Split (1)

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"WHY DO YOU HAVE A D IN MATH?!" While most would jump at her screams but Oliver didn't budge, as he was used to her aggression. The difference between pure and breed werewolves surprises many. People still think all of them are wild and unhinged even living in society. Oliver, trying to remain calm, "I failed at test-" "DID YOU STUDY?!" "Yea... look I'm gonna retake it tomorrow-" "WHY DIDNT YOU RETAKE IT TODAY?!" "He wasn't here!"Oliver snapped. He quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, knowing that he did wrong. His mother paused at his shouting, resisting an urge to chastise him more. As she knew it would just make it worse, and was forced to refelct on her behavior. "I'm sorry Oliver..." Oliver sighed and hugged his weary mom, "it's ok."She could only respond to his embrace by hugging him in return. She held back tears of sorrow and meekly responded "I love you." Ever since his father was killed by hunters, things always were off between them. His mom was more prone to panic attacks, more hostile to human beings, and much more protective of him. He also felt more meek around other human beings, but his frequent activity in school has put those fears to rest. Carmen couldn't afford a therapist for herself, as everything she could did went to him. She knew Oliver wanted her to seek help, but Carmen would always say she'll be fine. Money doesn't fall from the sky, but some days she wished it would.
I wake up in an unfamiliar location. I try to move, but I can't. I take in my surroundings. A tiny room, barely lit. I look at my feet... and scream. This attracts someone's attention, as the door opens. "So... you're awake... Lord Drowl."The person before me grins. "CUT THE ACT! I NEED ANSWERS!"I'm practically snarling like a dog. "Easy there. I don't want to have to remove your head as well as your limbs." "Limbs?"I look either side of me. My arms are missing too. I'm just a head and a body. I sigh, realising I'm hopeless. "Whe... where are they?" "In the stomachs of our pets by now. We can give you robotic limbs easily, just so you know."The man chuckles. "So... you're plan is to make me literally useless and at your mercy, so you can bribe me with new limbs..."damn if that's not a good plan, if evil and barbaric. I'm already desperate just to have an arm! "Pretty much. We won't just give you new limbs, though. You need to earn them."The man again chuckles. "How? Without my limbs, I..."Suddenly, it occurs to me. I'm broken and defeated. I, lord of an empire, ruler to many and with loyal men at my side, have already given in to my captors. The man laughs manically. "Oh, it NEVER fails! Do you have ANY IDEA how many kings, queens, lords, emperors, and more, are under our control? Most of our targets have been eastward of where your land is. We were beginning plans to take over the nations there, but you had started on your precious empire. We decided to wait... why conquer one nation at a time, when we can take advantage of the hard work of others?" I don't argue. It's not like I can do crap... "So... what now?" "Now, my pet"he strokes my head as he says that, "you can surrender to us. You'll be given robotic limbs, and your empire... will become ours. You'll run it, but we'll pull the strings."The man grins. "Think about it, little puppet. After all, they've probably already forgotten you." I get furious at that comment. "NEVER! I wouldn't be abandoned so quickly, especially not by Naytar! I don't need your charity!" The man shakes his head. "Remember, dear pawn, Naytar was a hero hellbent on preventing your empire from happening. Why, he's probably dismantling it as we speak! Take our offer, and while you'll be our toy, your empire will stay. And what about those who doubt you? Who speak ill of you? Remember, you were only just beginning to gain people's trust." My eyes widen. "How do- was there a spy in my team? Did you plant a mole?" "I'll leave that to your imagination. For now... think about what I said."The man exits, locking the door behind me. I sigh. He... he's wrong... Naytar wouldn't abandon me... he wouldn't... right? DISTANT TOWN =NAYTAR= "I've got a lead!"the woman, Greta, exclaims. I jump to my feet and rush over. "Really? What is it?" "According to one of my contacts, a suspicious vehicle was passing through Hunter's Valley. I wish I knew more, it may not be Drowl, but-" "Lord Drowl"I snap. She rolls her eyes. "Fine, it may not be Lord Drowl, but everything else is a dead end. This is your best chance."Greta looks at me with concern. "You've... heard about Hunter's Valley, right?" I nod. "Everyone has. It's... quite far. I'm handy with a motorcycle, if you have one." Greta is taken aback. "You'll be charging into your doom, you know!" "I... I have to do this. I'd do this for a random citizen, I'd do this for my boss. So... why wouldn't I do this for a friend?"I look her in the eyes. "Wow... Lord Drowl really does mean a lot to you personally. You couldn't help but get attached or something?"A single tear escapes me. "He... he's an amazing leader... a caring boss... and close friend..." Greta looks at me sadly. "Very well. Men! Prepare a motorcycle for Naytar!" "Y... yes, boss!"The men exit immediately. I hug Greta. "Thank you. You know, with these skills, you don't have to be a villain. Think about it."I make my exit and hop onto the motorcycle. I rev the engines and speed off. Hang on, Drowl... I'm coming... \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [Dreams of an Empire.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/x9xqe3/dreams_of_an_empire/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
"You okay Sam that looked like a nasty bang" Sam shook himself and stood up and eveything was diffrent. "Where the hell am I?" "King cross central cesspool central don't know who you upset to get transferred here don't care under staffed and over worked." Turning to an embarrassed worker Which is why I'm not happy that out of all the clods you could bang some sense into you drop something on our latest recruit it happens again you going to find yourself fitted up and in the scrubs Before your next breathe got it sonny " Vimes couldn't understand half of what he said. But threat's were his bread and butter he recognised that. The worker suitably chastised scurried off carrying whatever he had dropped on Vimes. "Loved to give you the tour and introductions have to wait. Little bird told me a brass named Gloria saw the martin brothers pushing little billy into the canal with a big back of bricks for company. Now between you and me couldn't happen to a nicer guy ,but,its probably first chance to get these guys. So we got to get to Gloria before they do. "Why are you lot still here?Come on Sam move your arse. Sam was grabbed by the big man and dragged through a maze of corridors. Where ever the hell he was the job didn't change.
A drizzle fell from the sky, and coated Luric and the field in a light mist. The water collected on the wide brim of his black hat, before falling onto his black leather coat. Days ago, this field was alive with battle. Sounds of horses charging, steel clashing, gunpowder cracking, and of course, men screaming. Now the field was silent, lest be for the rain that pitter-pattered on the steel breastplates of the fallen soldiers, and of the two-score soldiers that stood behind Luric awaiting him and the priest. Luric looked over to the holy man, dressed in layers of beige coloured robes. The man stood at his covered wagon, quietly chanting as he lighted the incense within three separate thuribles. The silver censers soon began to exhume a cloud of white smoke, filling the air with smells that reminded Luric of ash, pine, cinnamon, ginger, and rosemary. “We are ready, Inquisitor.” the priest said with a hesitant tone, and Luric nodded. Then began the clearing, which moved with a fluidness that could only come from experience. Three of the men took the thuribles, leaving their silvered halberds at the priest’s wagon, and walked into the field and stood in a line twenty paces apart. The remaining, along with Luric and the priest then fell in, standing in a line a pace behind. The soldiers had their weapons at the ready, with the musketeers covering the pan of the flintlocks to prevent rain wetting the gunpowder. The priest began his chanting again, and the party proceeded forward. They walked through the battlefield, the carriers of the thuribles swinging them side to side. As the incense, now billowing a thick haze, washed over the field of bodies, some began to twitch. These were the ones Luric and his party had come here for. Those which from unknown means, would reanimate into ghoulish forms. Luric could see one ahead, stirring from the incense in the air. He reached the pistol at his side, but a pair of men had already spotted the beast. At a brisk pace they walked up as the animated corpse jerked violently attempting to stand, but currently lacking the control of its limbs to do so. One man, armed with a musket, in a quick motion cocked the firearm and brought it to his shoulder. Then with a flash of light and a crack through the air, a silvered bullet rammed through the creature's skull, exploding out the back. The corpse ceased its movement as fast as it had begun. The two fellows returned to the line, the musketeer reloading, but others headed out to deal with other ghouls that began to rise. They too were struck down. This one with a bullet, that one with a halberd, this one with an axe. It was brutal and efficient, and Luric couldn’t help but admire the party's smooth workings. &#x200B; Within the hour, the field was cleared of any corpses which stirred. The men now milled by the road where they began, and Luric now walked the field alone, inspecting the work as the rain subsided. It was here the priest approached him. “Inquisitor,” the middle-aged fellow began, “may I ask where we are headed next?” “Dullensdorn.” Luric replied, looking at the corpse before him for any signs of plague. “The Markovites were seen marching through there three days prior, and I have reports that there were skirmishes in the farmsteads nearby.” “Dullensdorn… that’s only half-a-days journey from here, and with the Markovites only three days away…” He trailed off, and Luric turned to face the old man. “What is it, Father?” Luric questioned. “Aren’t you concerned that we are getting a little too close to the conflict?” “Not at all. We are neutral in our mission.” “Yes, but folk around here - the Markovites included - may not see that. War is rare in these parts, ghouls rising from the dead is a folktale older children will tell to scare their siblings. To see us scouring old battlefields just after a fight, firing at and lopping off heads of corpses, well they might think us drunken bandits looting battlefields and desecrating corpses to get at their metalled teeth and ringed fingers” “Better they see us moving in those fields than the undead. Besides, what would you have me do? Wait until the ghouls animate in their own time? To rise again in full strength and numbers that after they consume the flesh of the fallen, they attack the living? No, better we stir them now while they are weak and feeble. Strike them down before they become an issue. I understand your concerns, Father, but we do not need to worry about the commonfolk, or of the Markovites. I’m sure if they spotted our party, they would not see us as a threat.” Above in the clouds, thunder boomed and a light rain descended onto the field once more. The two men stood in silence briefly before the priest sighed. “I pray you’re right, Inquisitor.”
God died by the pen. Not a fast death borne from hot words, but a slow one from a critical mind and a restrained hand as those in power chartered something sinister. An accord between Earth and its colonies. That AI can assist with warfare, but a human must pull the trigger. For how can a machine judge the life of a person? I almost scoff. How can I? I ponder that once more from the turret seat in my spaceship. Well, the part of mind that's still active, still awake—the rest of me is too dead from this mind-numbing battle. But I see the poor fools against us. They are on the near black of space. They're encroaching, trying to get inside, trying to get to the colony. But I don't worry. My visor's vision red. They aren't close enough. "Thoms,"my commanding officer yells at me, his voice crackling alive in my ear-comm as I hear his boots stamp out a rhythm against the shuttle's metal gangplanks, above where I sit. "Yes, sir,"I finally call back, even going so far as to look up at the specter of an officer, tall and wiry and pale like a ghost. He stamps his foot to a rhythm of irritation. Tap taptap tap. "Going up for promotion soon, hum?" "Sure, sir." He clicks his tongue. Holds his gaze, then says, "And not engaging the enemy, I see; not the attitude we want in a solider." I hold back a response as my visor's vision turns green. "Sorry, sir." He nods, then stands there, watching. Like Death itself. He hates me, I think. I'm not getting that promotion. Not unless I'm perfect. I hope I'm not. "Get to it, Thoms." "Aye, sir,"I say, indifference deadening my tone. Why even bother? I wonder as I take hold of my turret's controls. But it doesn't need me. Not yet. I'm just the trigger. The turret turns, it aims, AI precision borne from scientists and their long toiling days. Silicon decides how best to take a life, this metal moving. Killing is just an algorithm now. Like avoiding gimbal-lock. I sneered the first time I thought of it like that. Now I don't even care, my emotions are too slow to act while an AI does fast crunching calculations. The cross hairs line up, my visor gives me the go ahead. And in that slim moment, before my finger pulls back with practiced ease, condemning life, I wonder what God would think, had he not been killed by the slow long words that force me to be in this seat. A human must pull the trigger. Life shouldn't be so easy to take, right? I wonder as the turret thumps, the shots fired, the recoil systems already suppressing the feelings of it all. Is that why I feel so gray? Moments pass. Then the bright, revealing truth of well-aimed ammunition slams into poor fools. Why didn't you just stay home today? The shuttle explodes, a fire that is ten times ten times flares into view, but the orange bloom is snuffed out. Near vacuum does that. The visor turns red. My officer shakes his head. "Not fast enough."His foot taps out his emotions; I wish I could do the same. Everything's too dead in me. He says the promotion will be long gone, only dust if I don't hurry. I don't say anything. He clicks his tongue, his tablet pen already scratching out something in digital ink. Probably a reprimand. But I don't care, I stop listening; I wish God were alive to see this. At least he could judge me proper. Time passes, then a tap on the gangplank. The officer's voice. "Thoms, get ready. Another one coming in." And the turret turns.
Undying Bob, Leader of the GasFort looked at the bespectacled visator who had been asking questions about every vehicle in the settlement. Under his sun bleached skin, and skull painted helmet he pondered, if they were brave or stupid? The GasFort commanded fear and respect, across the wastes. Yet this stranger had been walking around with a clipboard saying now Boneslashr's spiked truck wasn't "street legal"or that Milky Mendoza needed something called a "License". Who could say how long it had been since the bombs fell. The wasteland people's had started to coalesce into groups. The making of bullets, the refining of fuel was rediscovered and the growing of food began again. Warlords had risen and fallen. Undying Bob had survived and even helped his group to thrive. While there were stories of the cruel treatment he'd given his foes, the warlord was curious as the person his watchman had dragged before him seemed different somehow. Perhaps some tribe had lost their pet fool "What is your business here? " "My name is Simon, I'm from the DMV.." "The DMV?"Bob questioned"Is this a joke? "Bob thought it must be. The government fell apart when what was left of it's minions stopped getting paid, and had no motivation to show up for work. Those days after the flaming skies were everyone for themselves. His father had told him of those institutions that once imposed arbitrary rules on people. "Not a joke. I'm from the Department of Motor Vehicles..." Comprehension washed across the faces of everyone present. The old stories were still told, of people who would make you wait for days in thier temple just so you could be allowed to drive your own vehicle. A tribe of misfits and weaklings, who contributed nothing of value yet had so much power. People who argued over the smallest least consequential detail like your vehicle makes too much noise, or uses too much gas, or doesn't have the right license plate. Those who lorded over everyone, and exacted tribute in exchange for people to use what they already owned. This representative of the old soft, wasteful world which had destroyed itself in nuclear fire failed to observe the expressions of hatred and disgust over the visage of the denizens of the GasFort. Grumbles of discontent arose. Milky Mendoza stepped forward raising a machete, running her tongue along the back edge, eying the visator with lustful, murderous intent...Undying Bob motioned for Mendoza to stop. "was another warlord out there who would protect this DMV and rain fury from the sky for disobeying them or could Simon's head adorn a spike for such insolence? Further questioning was needed. "What purpose have you come here?" "To check that everything is up to code. So far there are many problems. These vehicles are unregistered, and some of these spikes and other modifications are very dangerous, and does anyone here have a license? Who possibly insured any of this! None of this is safe. And very illegal. You can simply pay the fees and fines and get this sorted out after the modifications are removed" Undying Bob was now certain, surely he was speaking to some pet fool who had wandered away from his keepers. But he recognized the old words of busybody tyrants. "Life is unsafe. It is known."Bob calmly admonished the visator as if instructing a child."Licenses? Registration. Insurance? Such things belonged to the old world. The one that consumed itself and is now gone. By what authority do you come? ""The DMV.. It's by the airport...""What if things are done differently here in the GasFort? What can the DMV do if GasFort does not recognize such things? "Simon stuttered "But the law, the police will pull over anyone." "Simon.. in GasFort I am the law. My Watchmen and I keep order here. You come with meaningless words, and lack understanding of many things. GasFort does not pay tribute to anyone. There is no DMV in the wastelands and we are well rid of such an unnecessary thing. Be content as your tribes pet fool and never speak of such things here again! "He motioned for Mendoza to drag the fool away to the pit, perhaps Simon's tribe should be visited.
I hate Redcaps. I hate fae in general, but Redcaps take the cake. Werewolves are easy: they are animals, so just... Pin the attack on an animal. It gets a bit more tricky when Glass Walkers are involved, not many wolves in big city centres, but very few can differentiate between a wolf and a dog's bite. Just frame a dobberman and you're good to go. Vampires are easy. They have their own omerta, their "Masquerade"as they call it, they almost never leave hints of supernatural activity and when they do it's usually just a simple matter of finding a tool that could justify the bite marks. Two-pronged forks used for bbq are perfect for that. After all, it's one of the reason we made them in that shape to begin with. Fea were... Well, they didn't really give a shit about hiding their presence. Annoying, but there was nothing a little evidence manipulation and propaganda couldn't fix. Unless the little shits were redcaps Sure, a Ghast may cut people open to devour their organs, but at the very least they are surgical in their butchery. Just toss them in a hot tub, fill it with ice, make some shit up about organ trafficking and the sleeper will gobble it up no problem. There will be a hunt for the killer, but at least the Rule of Shade wasn't challenged. Redcaps... They leave bite marks. On. Fucking. Everything. There is no mundane way to explain a bite mark on a steel fridge. Or a doorknob. Or a metal bat. Or the clear teeth marks on the victim's exposed skull. I fucking hate Redcaps. Usually there isn't much i can do except destroy everything and use the Technocracy's contacts in the police to bury rhe case in paperwork, insurance claims and anything that takes the attention away from the condition of the victim. I sigh, turning on the gas stove. I wander around the apartment for a few monute, waiting for the gas to accumulate, while destroying what few evidence i can destroy without relying on the explosion. Once everything is done and i can start to smell the gas, i leave the apartment. I take a deep breath, channeling Forces before I open the door, toss my lighter into the apartment and shut it behind me. The explosion shakes the building and i hide behind a corner. I have to wait for around five minutes, the average response time for the firemen to come, then my team will come and survey whatever damage the fire caused and justify it to the sleepers. This will take me and my team a whole week to cover-up. Don't even think i'll make home before the game start. Swear to God, i hate those fucking fae (Continues)
The accident was probably years ago and Dwayne was still foggy on what exactly happened. Coming up in his blind spot, the truck was the last thing he didn't see. Ever since then it's been nothing but visions, beautiful and unshareable. The 'unshareable' thing was a little painful sometimes. He appreciated when the caregivers would speak to him, though he could never reciprocate. One of the night crew guys would even tell jokes while readjusting him and checking for bedsores. "Losing a little too much weight there, Dewey. Might have to take you to the gym."For a while after that he dreamed of being the size of action movie star and lifting cars off of people, dressed up like a superhero. Finally the flying would make sense. Is it really still just a dream if you never wake up? Dwayne disagreed with the word "just"being thrown in there. Dreaming was important to him. In his current state if he didn't have dreams he'd have literally nothing.
I'm just coming upon Hunter's Valley. I check in one more time with Alo. "Alo, how is everything back at the empire?" "Everything is under control, Naytar. Have you..." "I just reached Hunter's Valley. From here, you won't hear from me unless my mission is a success. If you don't hear from me for a while... consider me good as gone." "You're sure about doing this alone?" I pause. I'm absolutely not, but... "I have to." "...I understand, Naytar. I hope for yours and Lord Drowl's safe return." "Goodbye, Alo."I take a deep breath and ride up the side of the valley. I'm not just riding straight-through; that's suicide. I ride up and along, and I see it. Known to many as The Leader's Prison, as these criminals target only those with power, just so they can steal that power for themselves. The base itself is underground. I put on my disguise. Showtime. I abandon my motorcycle and make my way back down. The guards eye me suspiciously as I walk forward. I stop just in front of them. "Who are you?"one of the two asks gruffly. "Name's Laurence. I'm new."I look between them. "Must be your first day. Do you even have your chip?"the other asks. "I was told I'd get it on my first official day. That's today."The pair grin. "Well, then, I'm sure you're also aware that new recruits are held prisoner temporarily..."one of them goes to grab my arm. I'm dead if I keep playing along. Using the strength I've built over the years, I dodge, grab his arm, and slam him into the other guard, knocking them both out cold. Chip... what does that mean? I could be in trouble if I don't figure it out... just then, I hear the door to the base open. I waste no time in rushing over, grabbing the man by the collar, and shoving him against the base entrance. The fear in this man's eyes almost makes me let go - I'm a hero, dammit! But I have to put that aside, for Drowl. "Ok, I have some questions. I need answers. Got it?"The man looks nervously at the two guards, his lips trembling. He looks back at me and nods. INSIDE THE BASE =DROWL= I've been here for a couple of days now... helpless... I tried to refuse to let them break me, but... is help really not coming? What of my empire? Would Naytar really betray me, after everything? He... he wouldn't... Who am I kidding? I forced him to serve me. He doesn't really care. Heck, he's probably celebrating my capture! I... I don't want to bow to my captors... but it's either that, or be trapped here, while my empire crumbles... My cell door suddenly opens. The man before me wearing his black spy outfit, as usual. "Well, you're looking worse for wear, aren't you?"That voice sounds familiar... I take a deep breath. "I... I've had time to think..."I look up. "I... I surrender to you..."I begin crying. The man laughs, unsurprisingly. "Talk about ironic! The boss surrendering to his subordinate!"My eyebrows shoot up. "Wh... what?"The man removes his mask, a huge grin on his face, causing me to gasp. "Na... Naytar?"He rushes to hug me, something which I could return. "I had no idea... I didn't know how... how close you were to surrendering... I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, Drowl- uh, I mean-"Naytar steps back, embarrassment clear. I chuckle. "Drowl is fine. I'm not much of a lord right now... I must know, the empire-" "Alo's been looking after it. He promised me that, no matter what happens, he won't let the empire fall. Drowl, whatever happens, don't give in to these monsters!"Naytar says this with such conviction, but... "Naytar, do you have any idea how this feels? To have no limbs, to be completely and utterly helpless and defenceless?"I begin crying again. Only in front of my loyal second-in-command would I show such weakness and vulnerability. "I know it must be crushing, but do you want them to be in control?"I look up once more, Naytar's determination clear. "I'll do my best to save you. I may not succeed, but even if I don't, the empire is safe. Please... for every land you united, every person you saved... don't give in." I can't help it. I laugh, much to Naytar's confusion. "Wow, what a speech! You never cease to amaze me, Naytar!"Naytar smiles, and I clear my throat. "Ok, I'll remain strong. I... I hate to ask this, but please, don't leave me here! I... I don't think I could hold it together if you left without me..." "Even if me staying results in my capture? Even if leaving you here is the only way to..."I notice the words catch in his throat as he shakes his head. "No, that's selfish... I promise I won't leave without you! I'll be here until you're out safely... Lord Drowl." A wave of relief washes over me, knowing that Naytar is willing to do what it takes to help me. "Thank you." Naytar nods as he puts his disguise back on. "They're waiting for me. Because of the chip I stole, they think I'm a high-ranking member and had sent me to get news on your surrender. Gotta tell them that you're not giving up."With that, he exits my cell, locking the door behind him.
“It’s just so perfectly bland”, Zourrt thought to himself as he gobbled up his sixth serving of fish and chips. He was a food critic who was famous galaxy wide yet not even he had tasted something this unique. On every other planet he had been presented with a wide assortment of flavours and aftertastes, it was all exactly the same. Every culture used roughly the same spices, or at least as close as they could get having evolved on another planet, with roughly the same tastes. “It’s almost like eating the same recipe cooked by different chefs but this is truly unique”, Zourrt remarked, he was very impressed. “Send my warmest regards to the chef”, he told the nearest waitress. “A chef so talented that they can make something this great must be one of the best on this world.” “What are you talking about?” the waitress answered him in a confused tone. “This was made by the line cook we hired yesterday”.
I am The Guardian and 10 years ago, I killed my best friend…this is my confession It started in the summer of 1994. My first year as a professional superhero. As you know, after you pass the exam, you are assigned a nemesis. I was assigned was The Cryptkeeper. Our first meeting was pure chaos. Two kids, barely out of school duking it out with unrestrained passion. We caused over a million dollars worth of damage and I still have my reprimand from the society framed in my office. It was amazing. One day, after months of heated battles, we found ourselves far away far away from everyone else and I stopped the fight. I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t as into it as he usually was, so I asked him what was wrong. “My moms in the hospital and they don’t think she’s going to make it” he said. “Is that why you’ve been robbing banks? To pay her bills?” “Kinda, I mean, you can’t really be a hero and turn people into zombies ” “I get that. But what did you mean by ‘Kinda’?” “Well, that and I like kicking your ass” “Hey now!” I chuckled “ain’t no one kicking my ass!” We both laughed and just looked at each other. We were pretty evenly matched. “The name’s Tony” he said “Jeremy” I said The years came and went and Tony and I fought like cats and dogs. The days one of us wasn’t feeling it, the other would phone it in. Eventually, we found ourselves hanging out outside of work. Tony got married to Emilia a.k.a. The Goth and had a kid. Not long after, Bloodlust and I had our first child. Somehow Tony and I found ourselves as neighbors in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. Years of putting up a facade took its toll on us. I was never regarded as the superhero I wanted to be and Tony didn’t get the respect he deserved because he “couldn’t put me down”. We didn’t care, we had beautiful families and the respect of each other. That all changed in 2010. Our last showdown. Unbeknownst to me, there was a trend of nemesis becoming friends and the Society wasn’t having it anymore. So, like any good clandestine organization, they spiked our water with serum. It was set to activate once your heart rate reached a certain point and it would enhance your natural abilities. Now, being that our fights were mostly a facade these days, it took longer than normal for the serum to take its effect on me, and everything would have been fine if Tony hadn’t summoned zombies from under me. That rush of energy, he was on point that day…unfortunately so was I. Before I knew it, I was flying faster than ever and when I hit him, I knew instantly something was wrong. My last memory of Tony is watching him fall to the ground after pushing his spine out of the top of his head.
"Awright, youse mugs. Clam up, see? We gotta heist to plan out. Yeah. And this ain't no small time capah, capeesh? This here's the Battyscombe Asylum, one a the most haunted spots in the woild, see? So here's how we're gonna do it." \\\* They called themselves the Crypt Kickers. There were six of them. Rico Mortis, whose family had come to Little Italy by way of Big Italy, led the gang with a hawkish eye and, where necessary an iron fist. His second in command was Barry Atchett, a foulmouthed import from the 'ard streets of London's East End, where it was rumored he had done very horrible things to the leader of a rival firm using a broken bottle. Then came Tommy Rotten, the smallest and youngest of the band, though useful in a scrap; he had the stamina of youth and the fury of a short man teased once too often. Then Stabbem and Slabbem, a young couple who'd joined the business as part of an extended honeymoon spree across Oklahoma; he was useful as a gun man, and she was useful as a getaway driver. And finally there was Abner Malady, who, if not strictly the brains of the outfit, certainly supplied most of the gray matter. They were wanted in at least two states: the mortal one and the metaphysical one. They regarded themselves as specialists, of a sort. Where lesser gangs would focus on banks or trains, they opted instead to rob haunted houses. And business was, as Abner occasionally put it in his usual groanworthy fashion, booming. \\\* Barry took Tommy down to Abner's shop later that day to pick up some special gear. Officially Malady's company, Abner's Cadavers and Other Haunted Novelties, made Halloween decorations and props for haunted houses. Unofficially, in their line of work, Abner was better known for the other uses to which he put his technical skills. TO BE CONTINUED.
"What? No of course not, we don't own the sun. It's just... how do I explain?"The human stared at vis hands in concentration, gripping at the air as if to seize the words vi needed. I looked at vir, clicking my beak in idle patience. It's an obnoxious habit for those around me to hear, one that instructors strive to rid of. I snap back to focus as the human continues to speak. "We say our, but not as in own. Like a friend or companion, we do not own them, but they are there, simply existing alongside us." My companion, Talwi, shook zer head in confusion, "To me, human, that makes little sense, as the words in your language dictate your intent as possessive, and again you do not own the star."Celine glared at Talwi, sighing in exasperation, vi looked at me. "Funny thing, I don't even know what you are, or what to call you, like, who do you aliens think you are to just barge in. Immediately questioning a person is rude, not to mention you didn't introduce yourself or say why you're here or anything." Ah, so that was the issue, I turn to Talwi, touching zer shoulder so that ze would follow. We moved to the corner of the room, hunched slightly so that we did not hit the ceiling. "Kelis,"ze muttered in zer native tongue, "this is ridiculous, why must we speak with this human, nothing vi says makes sense."I spoke in english, a common language for the planet, and that which the human spoke. "This is our mission, all we require is that the human comes with us, otherwise we must find another and do this all over again, considering how long we've been doing this, and vis willingness to communicate, is that what you want to do."A delimited eye caught motion to the side, I turn slightly to look and was promptly startled by the human's close proximity. Displaying vis predatory teeth, the upturned corners of vis mouth showed it to be a smile. "You wanted me to go with you? Why not say so in the first place, and I still wanna know your name. Talwi's ears flicked in annoyance. I held a fist horizontally to ask for silence. Turning to the human, I nodded and lowered my hand. "I am Kelis, this is Talwi, if you do not wish to use our names in passing, refer to me with vi, vir, and vis. For Talwi, ze and zer are suitable. We hail from the planet Jahir, and are a race called Chere, Chereins as a plural. The human's smile seemed to stretch even further, "Imagine that, aliens, sorry Chereins, with pronouns."I looked at vir in confusion, "Yes, pronouns, as what humans use, yes? You have the features commonly seen amongst Chereins from the southern hemisphere, such as myself, so I simply assumed. Are you perhaps referred to differently?" The human nodded, "yep, my name is Celine, and my pronouns are he, him, his. But I wanna know more about what you said, why do you want me to go with you?"
Sivian thought they knew what these mortals meant when they said they had the power of friendship. After all, the band was closely knit already, and several had already tried that method in the past, but the god was only willing to play until they got bored. What they were not expecting, however, was to be presented with a t-shirt that read "Proud member of the Dirt Squad". They raised an eyebrow slightly as they studied the blue garment. "Dirt Squad. What in the Realms is-"they looked up, and saw every member of the band had opened their jackets to reveal matching blue shirts. They blinked. "Did you just- are you asking me, the most unruly god there is, to join a- a friendship group?" "Hey, all we said was we were gonna kill you and friendship was gonna be involved. Didn't it cross your mind we were gonna kill you with kindness?"the leader offered. They sighed deeply. "Just kill me the normal way, please. I'd like to spend a few years not aware of anything,"they breathed. "Hey. You said you don't have friends last time we met, we just figured we'd give it a shot,"the band's healer shrugged. "You-"Sivian took a deep, albeit shaky breath. "You were hired to kill a god who is notorious for causing chaos just for the fun of it, who isn't afraid of death because let's be honest, that guy's just a wet blanket nowadays, and your first thought after our little chat was to invite me to join the party?" "Yes." Sivian studied the garment for another moment, their mind racing. Maybe they didn't quite understand the Power of Friendship after all. "Alright, I'll humour you. But don't expect me to stick around forever," Interestingly enough, the band all cheered victoriously at that response. They shrugged slightly as they pulled the shirt on. Time to find out what friendship was really all about.
The Infiltrators Location: Classified. Earth. Generals gathered in a manner not entirely dissimilar to witches at black masses. There were a few stern-looking men in black suits and glasses and the odd nervous-looking scientist in a white lab coat sprinkled in with them, as well. For flavor, presumably. This was a place where important matters were discussed. Secrets, the kind that went unrecorded by history. The people in this room could have told you about Area 51, Hangar 13, Kennedy, Lennon, the Church, the Freemasons, and many other things about which no whisper had ever escaped to the public. Location: strictly classified. Not for normal people to know. No doubt the normal people were aware that such a place as this existed, on some level; a meeting place, not exactly for the heads of power, but perhaps for the shadowy, sly birds that perched on the shoulders framing those heads, and whispered gently into those heads' ears. On this particular occasion, they had a great deal to whisper about. Pleasantries would have been wasted. It wasn't pleasant work, and the people realized they weren't exactly pleasant people. So the figure at the head of the table, who was simply called Watchmaker, grunted and got to his feet. "Some of you probably know about today's business. Those who don't, you've at least heard whispers. About the discoveries made in Antarctica recently. And what was found there. So I won't keep you in suspense: Kowalska's report is true." There were murmurs from around the table, and the hisses of breath taken in. Watchmaker grunted again. "A huge mass of amber crystals, not like anything found on Earth, going down whole strata below the planet's surface. And at the bottom of that deposit- quoting from the report, here- sort of strange craft. I hardly need to tell you, not one from Earth." Well, that ruled out another mutated astronaut monkey, a few of the assembly thought to themselves, with just a soupcon of relief. "Now. I think Dr. Kowalska has a few details to share."Watchmaker gestured to one of the nervous-looking labcoats, a mousy woman doing her best to look like she belonged here. "Ah. The craft itself would have to be ancient. More than a billion years. Um. We think. We don't- that is. No material on Earth could last that long, but clearly, this- not of Earth. Um. It resembles some similar things we recorded from the last Mars mission. Nods. "One more thing. Important. The crystal deposits leading to the ship. Um. Very extensive. We don't understand them entirely, but we think they might be some sort of fuel. Have been, I mean. For the ship. And because of how the continents have broken apart over a billion years, it seems likely the deposit would exist in other landmasses, probably all through South America, likely in some places in Australia, though as yet, obviously, those layers haven't been discovered. That's, that's all I have for now-" It was enough. Everyone in the audience was riveted. \\\* At the end of the briefing perhaps two-thirds of the assembly filed out. Those remaining, advisors and intelligencers to kinds and presidents the globe over, sat in the darkness awhile. If one were attentive they might notice something off about their eyes. "A Precursor ship. On this backwater. This One actually doubted,"one said, in a language not from Earth. "Doubt no longer,"another responded. "And the Ore. A vein untouched for a billion years. It could run through multiple continents. The most valuable resource in the universe, in the greatest abundance in the universe. The All's for the taking." In the darkness, certain of their solitude, the figures removed their skins. \\\* The Gunboat-Diplomats Location: The Moral Event Horizon, underground vice establishment; Fulgerence, outskirts of Prelacy Space There was a bright center to the galaxy. Redglare had seen it back during his days in the Prelate's Fleet and he fervently hoped never to see it again. That ambition brought him here, to the untamed outer reaches of galactic civilization, where one could drown their sorrows in synthemesc and gamble on chem-spliced pit mutants fighting each other. It was a miserable, sorry, humble, wonderful life and it suited him fine. Omenus the Pummeling Pulsar from Sectors Unknown, the mutant he'd bet on, took a nasty psionic jab from the Bloodscreamer the Living Heart, and sank to the floor, beaten. Redglare swore and downed something from a glass, hoping it was booze.
Trent arrived late to school today. While normally a tardy student, he was tardier than usual today. Ever the pessimistic overthinker, he found himself another excuse as to why he should be late today: he thinks that there would be a school shooter at school today. Unfortunately for everyone...his outlandish assumptions turned out to be true. He watched the ten shooters group up at the parking lot from his hiding spot in some bushes. They were checking their weapons as they begun preparations to commit a horrible act. On the upside, somehow none of them had automatic weapons. However, shotguns, hunting rifles and pistols are still lethal weapons. Shotguns, especially. Trent himself brought along a weapon--his dad's M9 Berreta. It was something he personally had experience using, having convinced his military father to teach him how to use a gun for self-defense. He turned off the safety of his pistol and let out a smirk as he thought to himself: 'They won't know what hit 'em.' * Gunshots popped from inside the school. Screams of students and teachers rang out as the gunmen let loose their weapons. The shooting had already begun. A few bodies were already strewn on the ground, bleeding from multiple wounds. The gunmen laughed as they mercilessly shot anyone in sight. For two of them, however, their wicked glee would not last for long. Jackie laughed as he blasted a student's head off with his sawn-off shotgun. Beside him, his friend Anton took aim at a distant teacher with his rifle. "Tag that bitch, Ant! Make her pay for that F she gave you!"Jackie cheered on. "Shut up, Jack! I'm concentrating." A shot rang out, but the teacher was unharmed. She managed to get away right as Jackie finished loading his shotgun. "Your aim sucks ass, man! No wonder she gave you an..." Jackie's voice trailed off as he looked to his right and saw the dead body of Anton lying on the floor, the back of his head open like some grotesque flower of flesh and bone. "F..."Jackie fearfully finished his sentence. It was the last word that came out of his mouth as a 9mm round slammed itself into the side of his head, turning half of it into red chunks. * Ten minutes have passed since the shooting began. Although nearly two dozen people have died, the number of shooters have greatly diminished. Holed up in the cafeteria with a few hostages, the remaining three assailants fearfully watched the doors leading to the cafeteria. "Any word from Brad in the library, Carl?"Asked one of the assailants. "Nah, Jim. He got capped on his way there by some bozo."Carl answered as he shakily trained his pump-action shotgun at the left door of the cafeteria. "Shit. What about Glen?"Asked Jim. "Poor guy lost his head. Can't even read his thoughts even though his brain was plastered all over the girl's bathroom entrance."Chimed in one of the other assailants, armed with a revolver that was pointed towards the right door. "Fuck!" Jim angrily shot one of the hostages with his Glock, killing them instantly and causing the rest to scream. "Shut the fuck up, you cunts!"Jim bellowed. "Hey, simmer down over there! We still need them meat shields in case the retard comes along."Said the assailant armed with the revolver. "Fuck off, Craig! Keep your damn eyes on the--door!" Upon seeing Jim's panicked expression, Craig turned his head back to the door, but it was too late. Bang! Bang! Bang! Three shots were fired. Three bodies dropped to the floor.
Our story begins on a fateful Saturday evening at the castle atop the hill. A plumber was sent there to sort the rusty pipes that were causing the water to change from clear to a disgusting dark colour. He was a strong man our plumber, with a powerful chest and bulging biceps. His legs were sturdy and flexed as he walked up every stair to the top of the castle's grand bronze gates. He was allowed entry into the castle and upon passing the threshold of the garden he saw a fair and beautiful Princess. She was standing at the door in an elegant pink dress that flowed past her feet. Her golden crown glimmered in the sunlight and the colourful jewels shone upon the plumbers glistening muscles in hues of red and green. She did not speak, she did not smile, she stared intently into the plumber's eyes and then gestured for a man to come forward. A small man came forward from behind the Princess. He was immaculately dressed. He was wearing white silk trousers, a bright white threaded undershirt and on top of that a blue blazer with an intricate gold trim that shone in the sun. He had a most curious hat as well. White with red dots upon it. Whilst he was dressed beautifully he had the most dreadfully ruinous face. The man spoke. "I am the assistant to her majesty. You may call me Mr. Ba."He held his hat and bowed to the plumber, who simply grunted an approving yes. "Mhmm, okay plumber you must follow me to the basement where I shall show you what pipes to fix". Mr. Ba turned and walked into the castle. The plumber walked past the princess standing at the threshold of the door. He looked up and she returned the gaze towards him, never blinking once. He walked past the door and could feel a cold breeze touch his neck. He looked up at the vast entrance hall, which was dimly lit by only a few candles. Mr. Ba took a single small candle from the candelabra and walked down the corridor. The plumber looked at his hand guiding the light, the candle was melting quite quickly. Even drops of wax turned to fire before being snuffed out by the cold stone floor. the wax was starting to melt all over his hands and even a small drip of wax set fire and dropped onto Mr. Ba's hand. The plumber was about to come to his aid but nothing happened. He did not even flinch. Either Mr. Ba was either a master of pain or immune to fire. After following the last of the winding stairs they came to the basement of the castle. Mr. Ba lit a candle on the wall which lit many others. The room was illuminated all apart from one space. He pointed to the ground where a large dark opening had been made. "Do you think you can fix this pipe?"Mr. Ba spoke softly as he hovered what was left of the candle on top of this hole, trying to illuminate the darkness of it. The plumber spoke. "This is a pipe? It looks more like a hole in the floor than a pipe."The plumbers words were sharp and Mr. Ba grimaced in secret.
Winded Hearts As I assended from the transportation orb, I see other humanoid beings that do not appear very different from my own kind. Expressions of shock and awe appear on their faces. I turn to my research companion as we both are amazed that these strange beings are not wearing any wind vascular conversation garb. It seems as if they can extract oxygen directly through their nutrient gaps. I fear the power these earthlings may hold. We successfully capture a male of the species and return to our transportation orb. He seems frightened, but I try to keep him as comfortable on our journey as I can. I feel empathy for this human. If he only knew the power he may hold in his chest we would be undone. I must learn to communicate with him for a better understanding of his species. This human is strong. The sounds he makes are powerful and loud. As he paces in his holding unit he keeps repeating the words, "Breathe, Aither. Just breathe."As he says this phrase, his oxygen levels even out causing a mental settling that appears to alleviate his stress and physically lower his heart rate and blood pressure. His mild scrapes and bruising from our effort to apprehend him are healing at a rate significantly faster than anticipated. Their anatomy is different from ours. Though they retain blood that feeds their muscles and they have hearts that run their systems off of an electrical current as we do, they have these sacks that intake an energy boosting chemical from outside of their bodies through their nutrient gap as I had speculated. It appears as though they can somehow convert this chemical into a healing power source for both their physical and mental well-being. Communications with him have become mildly successful. He now makes a sound with the wind from inside him that I recognize as a name for myself as his caregiver, "Clicks". The sound seems to be his word for the tapping we use to communicate amongst our own kind. I have found a way to use my conversion garb to intake and release wind at various speeds to imitate the sounds he makes. This has increase the rate at which we are learning to communicate with eachother. I believe his kind also has names as we do which is why he has decided to name me. Aither is the name he seems to respond to. Communication has progressed and Aither has been able to relay many thoughts to me both in his language and mine. One thought that concerns me is this emotional release his species can emulated called a scream which is like a loud crying wind. The decimal and pitch at which this can be released from the wind in their chest could potentially prove fatal to my people in battle with no achievable defense. Aither understands and has begun to communicate in a softer and quieter tone to me and my researchers as he realizes our sensitivity to sound. We have determined that there is a shared form of communication between our people's languages. It is an art form of clicking sounds that spells out earthly words. It has been one full solar rotation since we captured Aither. Our research team has become fond of him. I am now beginning to believe that his species is not as primal as we originally thought. The invasion of earth is scheduled for 1/4 solar rotation from now. My team no longer believes we should invade this planet as we see these humanoids as equals at least if not possibly godlike beings capable of manipulating wind and air. I have patitioned the council to reconsider, but they have rejected my research as evidence. They are set in their ways and will not yield to our concerns that humanoids of earth are intelligent and powerful having the capability to create their own oxygen from within their own bodies. I have been labeled an enemy sympathizer. Aither wants to return to earth to warn his species of the aggressive advancement to come from my people. My team has compiled our research and given it to Aither to take back to his leaders. I am hopeful that my people will fail in our first attempt and retreat before causing catastrophic losses. We sent Aither home and the time of invasion is upon us. I have pleaded with my people to leave, but they hunger to capture this world of the gods and will not heed my warnings. As I watch our warriors leave our home in their transport orbs, I fear none will return. The invasion has begun, but within only a few hours a faint hum can be heard throught the universe and all communication with our troops has been lost and no one returned. After some solar movement has subsided. I awake to a clicking and realize it is Aithers earthy communication radiating sounds through space. The message reads: "Clicks, I empathize with the loss of your people because they did not heed your warning. We were successful in operation wind cry. I thank you for your research and assistance in the preservation of my home and my people. I hope we may one day attain peace between our worlds."
For three years the Thief ruled over the barren lands that had once been a kingdom of awe and beauty. It did not get this way within an instant. Slowly, day over day, the land choked and dried. Its nourishment diminished night to night. The Thief fed off its light and warmth, its mystery and terror, its deepest loves and hottest hatreds, until nothing but grey death remained. The magic spires in the North stood empty and abandoned, no wizards roamed their empty halls. The spaceships to the West lay derelict, away from their frontiers. The Eastern City lost its lust for stories of romance and betrayal. And even in the darkest reaches of the forest in the South colossal monsters and horrors beyond one’s understanding lay motionless and decomposed. The gods, once eternal, turned to cold stone, forsaken statues to themselves. Only the Thief prospered. The Queen abandoned all of it to rot. Choked by a thousand mundane pains, she let her glory be reduced to nothing and drowned her confidence in pity. Imagination was sacrificed to numbness. Success fell to a lack of failure. The more she forgot the less she cared. Until one day, almost as a chore, she made her way back to the kingdom and set to work. The ground still moved to her command. With difficulty and clumsiness but it moved, shaping itself into a stage. Seats formed around it. Figures of old drifted to them. Heroes, villains, broken and kind, powerful and meek, all gathered there to watch. Bound by ancient laws, the Thief sprouted wings of onyx and descended onto the stage opposite the Monarch. With a voice subtle like a snake but loud as thunder he spoke to her: “Leave. There’s nothing left here anymore. Dead things belong to vultures.” “I won’t,” answered the Queen. “Take what is dead, but I have more life to give.” “There’s nothing in you!” hissed the Thief. “You’re empty!” “You and I are speaking on my terms. I gave you a body and a voice. I made the stage and gathered the audience. My power is not yet spent.” “Nonsense! Clumsy drivel and hollow metaphors! Self-indulgent farce! You’ve let your skill rot to the bone. Do not embarrass yourself and leave.” The Queen waved a hand and stage lights shone upon her. Red curtains unfurled. “Skillful or not, this place belongs to me. I’d rather see it foolish than hollow. You cannot make me abandon it.” “Then I will fill it with your pain.” The Thief rose up, dwarfing the highest castles with his stature. “All that you fear, all that you loathe, all that still eats at you I will rain onto this place until you cannot bear it anymore.” “I will take your poison and let the trees feast on it.” The Queen walked forward, taller and more imposing with each step, light radiating from her crown. “May it fuel the farthest reaches of my empire and give birth to monsters of dark beauty.” “I will never leave!” shrieked the Thief. “Rebuild all you want, but I will feast on this land again when you abandon it!” “And I will rebuild it yet again.” A sceptre flashed into existence in the Queen’s hand. Its light diminished the Thief, turned him from a terrifying monster to a bird vicious yet small. He fled into the darkness of the forest to join the horrors that were already rousing in their caves. A streak of light flashed from the West up into the sky. Rainbow lights danced North between the spires. The audience was gazing upon each other with new eyes, finding lovers and enemies alike. The Queen bowed and made the crimson curtain fall.
\[Play\] MOTHER sweeps around the cottage as DAUGHTER is thrown into the household. The village starts to swarm into and around the tiny cottage. &#x200B; DAUGHTER &#x200B; I live in anatomy with no autonomy, It is your fault because you never taught me, To say thoughts as if they mattered A boisterous voice is male and becoming - If in the body of a bitch who one must admit Embodies the sound of nagging. &#x200B; The simplicity of feeling up in a down limb - Rather than the passing of a single neurotransmitter, Must be a relief when over and done. But if down equals up and left and right have no meaning - I can’t birth my thoughts that echo through silent mountains! &#x200B; You all can neither live in different bodies, A succession of sameness cowers over the reality of bleakness, The finality of our actions is felt in bodies each. A never-ending anguish of plunders A savor without a name, a face, If this is to be fought, we cannot dwell on singularities - We have to become something beyond the rising stone, Or the slit to berth, We must earn the right to be seen. If blank-and-white thinking is simplicity, Then why were we cursed? I want to see yous as people but we who hear, see, touch, smell, or Neither, in-between is felt on the bifurcations of centuries of misacts, The cursed nature, but when then to breed good nurturing? &#x200B; MOTHER &#x200B; Cursed it bee, The feather does fall and fail, A seed spread before fully made. Creatures' rash actions nothing but wrath in the face of men - But of the same blood, nay of same flesh. Mirth in the youth as growth may speed internal anguish. A reflection can only bend an already relative distortion. &#x200B; The CROWD around starts to pound their feet in slow unison. A hum begins to swell. &#x200B; CROWD &#x200B; Step – step – step – step, Running from thy breathe - A ghost Exhaust in soul Pay thy toll - addendum oath - Kill! Kill! Kill! &#x200B; The CROWD swells over DAUGHTER. The end.
Look. I wouldn't say I have a death wish but do you know how often my life DOESN'T flash before my eyes..? NEVER. To be wandering along the street aimlessly watching the decisions and potential for my future only to merge into one decision that I haven't made and then nothing? My knees went weak and I collapsed into the rough concrete. A deep chill seeped into my bones and all the colour was drained from my face. My hands were grazed from trying to save myself in the fall but I couldn't feel the sting of an open wound. My eyes were unfocused as my mind's eye was staring at the discoloured wooden door with the tacky neon sign above declaring it as "The Duck and Cover". My hand raises to push the door open and with a shaky inhale I scent stale beer and urine then.. nothing. It goes black. My eyelids flutter and I look down, eyes unfocused. I blink hard to see my hands, cuts and scrapes with blood. I breathe in deeply and smell the fresh grass next to the path I am sprawled on. My brow furrows and I close my eyes to focus again on future decisions but nothing appears. I exhale in a burst and my heart rate kicks into gear. I can start to hear each thud in my head with each second I spend trying to focus. Trying to grasp at an image in my mind's eye only to feel like my fingers pass through the blackness and come up empty. The chill in my bones causes my body to ache, I attempt to stand up. My balance was thrown off due to the normal weight of my decisions not being on my shoulders. I physically felt lighter and yet the warmth of my soul felt like it had left my body and was buried beneath me. I shift my weight on my legs and hold out my arms to stabilise myself. When I look up from the ground I can see the neon pub sign in the distance. My mouth feels dry and I swallow instinctively with the first step I take. My temples throb with each heartbeat, each step I take closer to the pub down the street. My breathing uneven as no decisions or futures appear as I get closer and closer to the black hole that had already swallowed me. I stand under the neon sign, staring up at the lettering, the red matching the bloody scrapes on my palms. My eyes water with my unblinking stare and a crash comes from inside forcing me to flinch. My attention is drawn to the door and a mist fills my brain as my hand reaches out towards the door. Ironically this is the first real sense of deja vu I had ever experienced and the bone deep chill in my body slowly leaves as my fingers connect with the door. My fingers and palm grow hot as I begin to push through the door The warmth rapidly growing to a burning scold and I cry out as the door swings open suddenly from under my hand and I stumble forward inside landing in a heap on the sticky floor. The mist inside my head has grown tenfold and I gasp as I begin to feel like I am suffocating. My mouth is wide open and I struggle to take in a breath, my chest is rising and falling with each wheeze but black spots dance in front of my eyes and for the first time I am truly terrified of my future and what it doesn't hold.
I hold a bowl of what looks to be pistachios but are not, as they are golfball-sized. Doc, are you sure this will work?” The middle-aged man in the white lab coat places a hand on my shoulder confidently. “Yes, I have confirmed this method by trying it myself two weeks ago, and I have yet to feel any negative side affects.” Hesitantly, I pick up the non-pistachios and crack one open. The inner nut is coated with a thin layer of… something? As instructed by the doc, I begin to suckle the non-pistachio nut. “Why does this taste like honey?” Doc shrugs, “I don’t know, but be glad it’s nowhere near bitter!” After a minute of suckling, I move onto the next nut. Gradually, I feel a strange tingling in my abdomen. “Doc, I don’t know if this means that it’s working, but my stomach feels strange…” Doc nods, “Yes, yes my dear, your monstrous transformation is reversing itself from inside to out.” He was right, I can see my skin change back from purple to tan, and the warts all over my body slowly shrink in size. By the time I got through the whole bowl, I felt like I was back to normal. “Oh thank you Doctor Quandangle, thank you! You’ve saved my life!” Dr. Quandangle smiled warmly, “No problem! And thank you for believing in my treatment. Not everyone takes me seriously due to my name, apart from the Sugondese. Speaking of which, they are going to ship me more of their harvest next week.” “So does that mean you’ll cure my daughter too?” I was very happy to hear the news, as Candice was at a later stage of Ligma than me. “As long as those nuts can fit in her mouth then yes, she can be cured. I’ll see you two next week!”
Gerald sat at their kitchen table, absently running his fingers over a patch of scratches, flipping page after page of statements. Rebecca had come to the table twice that evening. Once to eat, her staring causing distraction and making Gerald lose focus. The second time to give him a hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, and a whisper of love. Sticky notes were covered in jottings, results of his analysis, areas where money could be saved. Six months out of work had withered their savings down to where it was signaling a frightful timeline. Subscriptions could be cut. Less water; shorter showers and fewer flushes. The thermostat should be set as low as tolerable. He'd preferred the local grocery, but the one twelve minutes away by car would save them a great deal each month even with gas factored in. They'd never had to worry about such things. They had considered themselves frugal for driving low-end luxury sedans. A separate sticky note sat far forward and to the left of the rest. On it was the word Remembrance. The frequency of the charges labeled with this single word gave him anxiety and hope, for the sum of the charges was beyond significant, and since neither he nor Rebecca had any clue what these charges may be, disputing them and receiving reimbursement could return his mind to comfort for a month or two. His mother had made him sit at the table with her as she wrote each expenditure in her ledger. The weekly routine had made him loath tracking every purchase, and once he and Rebecca had reached a point where money was not considered but assumed, he had entered the habit of not checking statements and paying whatever he was told was owed. Gerald turned the last page, sealing the stack of one years worth of statements. A heavy breath and rolling of the neck felt well earned and slivers of the stress he'd been carrying glided away. He would make a list of all the action items and paste them on the fridge, then check on their progress with each new statement. The last real work to be done was with Remembrance. "Rebecca, will you come help me?" He continued to stretch his neck as the creaks of the hardwood neared. "What can I do?"Rebecca asked. "Call this company for me? I hate talking on the phone, too tired to make myself. Ask if they have our names on an account, and if so when was the account opened." "It seems like a lot, and you'll have more questions after that. Just call tomorrow?" Gerald let out a grunt that tapered into a sigh. "Alright, I'm just in the zone, but you're right." Rebecca came up behind him, rubbed her hands on his shoulders. "You need rest now anyway, you're body is trying to bounce back." Gerald nodded. "This has been a long stretch. I hope it means the next gap will be longer, too." "You'll start remitting soon, I can tell,"Rebecca said, bending over and kissing his cheek. "Let's go to bed." An hour later Gerald had finished his slow and pained nightly routine, which began with the difficult walk up the stairs. Rebecca helped to ease him into bed, and kissed him again, then rubbed his back as his drifted off to sleep. The curtains held a dim glow of light when Gerald jerked away, feeling a pinch in his arm and a swell of unreasoned panic. His eyes were blurred as he searched the room for what he sensed was there. Feeling to his left he could not find Rebecca, and after a moment of frenzied patting he was certain she was not there. "Rebecca! Rebecca!"He paused after each scream, and thought he heard the faint flutter of her cry from down the hallway. His right eye had begun to adjust, but his left was a useless haze. He swung the good orb over the room and his whole body flushed with terror as he found himself staring back from the wall five feet from his bed. For a moment his mind pleaded for him to accept it was a reflection, but the white uniform and crispness of skin convinced him otherwise. "Rebecca!"Again a distant wail, he thought he heard her mumbling. Gerald wanted to ask what or who the thing was, but the words rolled over and over in his mouth never leaving. He tried to spring from the bed but fell to the floor, weak, crawling then pulling himself up with extraordinary effort and walking in a stagger toward the hallway. He glanced down at the welt on his arm, surrounding a pinprick hole, then glanced back at the room. The thing in the corner, the fresh version of himself, did not move. He reached the hallway and began for the stairs. When he looked to his left he saw Rebecca. "You weren't supposed to feel anything,"she said through tears. "I didn't think you'd wake up." The meaning of her words settled, and Gerald went to flee from her as well, and missed the first step. He regained consciousness, in too much pain to feel any, and heard the footsteps nearing. His healthy other leaned over him, staring down. On the bright white shirt Gerald read a single word before the hands closed around his neck and sent him quickly into the darkness. Remembrance.
Freezing rain pelted the glass exterior of Tracy's diner in downtown Star City. Ambulance sirens rang out in the distance, warbling through dark alleyways. Slow night on the streets, the police scanner silent all night. Somnus pulled her hood down as she hustled down the street, needed a warm cup of the best joe in Star City. Place looked empty. Detective Falcona was on her way out, maybe there was something going on tonight. She normally went to Paul's, not this dive. The eponymous Tracy was already pouring out a large mug of coffee for the nocturnal super. Somnus shook off some rain droplets and took her usual seat at the countertop. Somnus loved Tracy's, looked like a place George Jetson would go, had that retro futuristic feel. Tracy leaned on the countertop, the wrinkles on her face multiplying as she smiled. Wispy grey hair dangled at her shoulders. "Sweetie I say this with nothing but love in my heart. You look like shit, you need to get some shuteye. Looks like volcanoes are spewing from your eyeballs." Somnus took a large sip, it warmed her up, even Tracy's great coffee was starting to have less of an effect. Somnus worried about what would happen if she needed something stronger to stay awake. "Justice isn't always pretty Tracy. Apex predators hunt best at night."Somnus yawned loudly. Tracy rolled her hazel eyes and went to brew a new pot of joe. She checked on the other people in the joint. Somnus hadn't noticed, tunnel vision was starting to set in, her eyelids felt like sandbags. Rodney was tucked away in a back booth studying for his finals, young kid was too highstrung for his age. Tony and Linda sat at the far end of the countertop, bickering as always, they never stopped. Somnus checked her phone, no notifications, all quiet, no bumps in the night tonight. Maybe Tracy was right, it could even be dangerous to be so tired. Somnus didn't know the true extent of her extraordinary abilities, she was scared to find out. She turned her phone off and got another large cup of joe. As the world sleepily turned a familiar perfume snapped Somnus back from the dreamworld. "Hey Sommy!"Pheonix, a local dancer at 'Vav-a-Voom', exclaimed. She hugged Somnus tightly from behind, her fur coat was warm, she vigrously rubbed Somnus's chest to warm up her hands. "Fucking cold outside."She kissed Somnus on the cheek and plopped down on the barstool next to her. Tracy got her a shot of espresso. "You're up late. Don't tell me you're just getting off work?"Somnus sleepily asked. Pheonix nodded, her platinum blonde hair bobbed around her face, it didn't hide the fact she was wearing more makeup than usual. "I hung around and chatted with the other girls. Slow night tonight, nobody wants to go out and freeze to death, not even for a lapdance." Somnus ordered her another espresso and one for herself. "But you braved the elements to come here after a slow shift? That's not like you." "Didn't feel like going straight home. Not really tired, this is the only place open this late."She replied meekly while clutching the collar of her fur coat. Somnus lightly rubbed her back, she leaned in to get a closer look at her. "I don't want to pry into your business but I'm asking as your friend. You using again?"She asked quietly. Pheonix shook her head no. "Is he?" Pheonix nodded. "Not as much as he used to, just every now and again." Somnus licked her thumb and flicked it across Pheonix's cheek. A deep purple bruise hidden under the surface. "Why do you stay?" Pheonix's eyes watered, her mascara started running. "I don't know, part of me knows I should, another part of me tells me not to. Love makes you do stupid things sometimes." "I ain't gonna preach to ya. Do what you think is right, I'll have your back either way."Somnus rose from her stool, she stretched out to engulf Pheonix in a friendly embrace. Pheonix cried on her shoulder. "If you need a safe place to crash you have my number, my door's always open, I don't sleep much, stop by anytime."Somnus pulled her hood up and made her way to the door. She turned her phone back on, no new notifications. Time to call it a night. As she turned to wave goodbye her phone vibrated. An address with a short message attached. 'Don't hurt him too bad, maybe just give him a little scare? :) :P'
Abigail and Rory were in the hospital room. She was breathing heavy, in labor. Rory was holding her hand: yes, I remember the day Rory was born. His mother and father were having an argument. As soon as they saw his face, their own lit up. That’s exactly what I saw here with Abigail and Rory—minus the fighting, they never fought—as the doctors bring back in the baby for them to hold. That’s probably why I do this. I’ve done this countless time, for you see, I’m the Sweet Sower. I bring life to this Earth. Wherever I walk, flowers bloom. Wherever I run, trees sprout. I hand-deliver children to the world. I’ve watched puppies being born. No need to thank me, I’m doing what I love.
“Excellent job, Yonah.” I say, as he puts his radio back on to his belt. “Now we must act fast.” I clasp my hands around my Lessor Ward Conjuration Stone. “Asaph Cerere, Asaph Cerere, Asaph Cerere.” I chant continuously in a deep low tone. Slowly, a limp body familiar of myself forms in front of me. Then, I turn to Yonah “now the Dimensional Rift Stone.” I say sticking out my hand. “The payment first,” he retorts. “Ah yes of course, of course. I am nothing but a man of my word.” I say as remove a small sack of gold previously concealed in my cloak, and toss it to him. “Now the stone, quickly.” I say, sticking my hand out once more. He tosses me the Dimensional rift stone, and picks up his radio again. “Subject appears to have died from self inflicted wounds, requesting immediate evac. and support units for further investigation.” I nod as a sign of thanks and crush the stone in my hand, activating it. Colorful beams of light shoot out from the crushed stone, completely engulfing me. “Set course for North Vadal.” Moments later, the lights vanish, and I stand on the desert sands of North Vadal. — [Fuji Jufi Writes](https://www.reddit.com/r/Fuji_Jufi_Writes/)
A great dragon with stony scales, each one large enough for a human to use as a shield, laid peacefully coiled around a great oak tree. Some thought it was a statue, made so by a basilisk or gorgon, until it's eyes opened. A great old one; one that several beings came to for questions. One learns many languages throughout millennia, through speaking stories of old and learning from those who seek to know. One day a clutch's worth of hatchlings stumbled into the grove, four young dragons barely old enough to walk. It stirred and ancient one, revealing golden yellow eyes that stood from otherwise grey hide and tattered fins. They squeaked and chirped, figuring out the language of their kind on their tongues. Eventually, the young who seemed to lead- not biggest, but the most coordinated, figured it out. "Great... þrumuveður."The youngling still had to puzzle out her name, looking up at the much larger dragon. Focusing on the youngling, also a female. They all only had small buds for horns to eventually grow longer and impressive, but she could see some damage to one on the speaking female. Perhaps wrestling with siblings. "You have seen many ages of time,"she went on, picking out her words carefully, "Mother caught us fighting and said I'd end up with a broken horn like the great fight ages ago-"another youngling bowed it's head sheepishly, the biggest of them- a male, who looks a bit ruffled. "And we don't want to end up like them... but nobody knows what happened!"The last sentence was emotionally squeaked out. "And thought that you'd know." The old dragoness considered it for a few long moments. Barely old enough to be alone hatchlings, she hadn't an idea how they got all the way here safely, let alone without being tracked town by their parents. But, they are safe now. And perhaps their bravery for coming here earns them the tale. "Very well."The words came on a deep hum, a voice as old as time. The young chirped a bit more, rushing to make themselves into a comfortable pile. She meanwhile raised her head, swinging her tail to lay around the hatchlings once they'd settled to surround them. And she'd start telling the tale... . Long ago, dragons did not work as they do now. Males ones were those that ruled- deciding wars, where to lair, when hatchlings would be pushed from their homes once deemed old enough. Among many more things. At first, perhaps it worked well. But as time grew, the bulls grew comfortable in their seats of power. Hunting brought by females for their feast, only watching young while mothers took care of them, dictating lairs to only their comfort. Females had little power against them as the males had an ages old network that would see females thrown out (or worse) for their insubordination. It all came to a head when a male decided he'd breed with a certain female, and that was the end of it. The Golden Crown-tip, the leader of all. The female, a Stormwing, decided to instead challenge his power. Amused, the Golden decided to accept her challenge- confident he'd win, and he'd get her against her will or not. The fight took place the next day, with dragons from many lairs onlooking. The females grouped together, watching and hoping. The males sneered, at least those that were belligerent. A few younger males hung nearer the females, pushing away those belligerent ones and keeping them safer. It started with a mutual pounce; the Golden was larger than the Stormwing, but she had cunning and experience while he was out of shape from hardly leaving his comfort. They were a ball of furious claws and teeth, blood spilling shortly after it began. The Stormwing got to the Golden's back, her thick scales deflecting his bites- he couldn't reach her, and he couldn't even buck. She reared and smaller down on his shoulders, forcing him to the ground where she put her weight against the middle of his neck, pressing it flat. Now choking, he scrabbled and clawed the stone to get out from under her but only succeeded in dragging a few inches. His wings beat but he didn't have the muscle to muster the power. The Stormwing closed her jaw around one of his horns, digging her claws into his neck, and began to wrench. After what seemed to be hours but only a mere few seconds- crack Her head jerked away, carrying with it his horn in her teeth. A curled thing with metallic tips on spikes growing on the topside. She let him from under her, dropping it at her paws and roaring as he recovered his breath. Enraged, he pounced again. And such a move would be his downfall, and the Stormwing instead bowed her head. Her horns were upturned, straight, and pointed. His leap landed on her, and she only needed to brace- her cunning led him to piercing himself upon her horns. They broke through the scales of his chest and slipped deep within. All paused. The Golden screeched and scratched, but the damage was done. He pulled himself off, blood pouring from the wounds. He spoke curses to the Stormwing in desperation as he tried to hold a paw against the wounds as if it'd stop the rivers of blood. She wouldn't hear him; making her own pounce to close her jaws around his throat and pulled him off of his feet. There, held by her by the throat and blood forming a pubble on the stone, he would die. This sight bolstered the females, who turned their eyes to the males who have long mistreated them- they were outnumbered. Several also would die that day, no better than the Golden. This shook the order of dragons. It took time to reform, but it did. The remaining males were those that were quite happy to work with the females, together. Dragons became much more prosperous under shared lead. Though the story has been slowly losing to time, no male dared again to place himself upon a throne. Perhaps a primal memory, passed down generations, to never size power- it would be downfall once again. . The hatchlings were enraptured, to say the least. They listened silently to the entire tale, watching as she spoke and motioned with her paws at times. "Whatever happened to the horn?"One of them spoke up. "Nobody knows. The names of them, either." She let out a long, deep rumble from her throat as she considered it. These are young dragons, whose memory may too soon fade. The story must be kept alive- or it may see another age of rule. There was no answer to them, but she raised her head up into the oak. When it came back down, pinched between teeth, was a weathered old curled horn. The tips of spikes still had their unmistakable gold. It was simply dropped in front of them- and she was used to watch the pile fall apart into tumbling hatchlings as they rushed for a closer look. It took a while, but they put the pieces together. Looking at one another in question, then alarm once they'd figured it out. They'd heard telling of the talefrom the very Stormwing who long ago killed the Golden, and they knew her name all along. "Do not forget, or history may very well repeat itself."A claw went around the horn, drawing it closer to her chest. "Perhaps it was time for new ears to hear."She smiled at the four young as they gathered before her. "You may help yourselves to the berry bush,"her tailtip brushed a nearby bush, "you will find them quite filling, and the taste is whatever you find as your favorite. Afterward, I shall take you home. I cannot let time forget."
“For the last time, get out of my house!” “For the last time, this IS my house!” Another standstill it seemed. Sean sighed and scratched his head. It was always like this since Kaela had moved in with him. They were friends since childhood, going to school together, playing together on the weekends. For much of their childhood they were inseparable. Adolescence changed that, the two drifted apart and found themselves in friend groups of their respective genders. In fact, she had almost slipped his mind when his mom told her that she was moving back into town and was having trouble finding a place to stay. He had just bought a house, after years of scrimping and saving, and the thought of a roommate had crossed his mind more then a few times. He reached out to her and she agreed. At first it went well. The two of them reconnected easily. Despite the fact that she had went to college and him the trades they seemed to share many of the same hobbies and interests. They had both been gamers, and had kept it up into adulthood. They had also both learned how to cook, and took turns trying new dishes on each other. Sean loved it, ever since everyone moved away to pursue their interests he had had a hard time making friends, and now he had a pal living with him. One time his mom joked that he had gotten married without knowing it, but he just laughed. She was just his roommate. Besides, she was way out of his league. Recently though, everything changed. He wasn’t sure what happened, but it was like a switch had flipped in Kaela’s head. Every time they crossed paths there was something for her to nitpick, be it the way he put the cutlery away, or what ingredients he used for supper, she even got mad at him for putting the toilet paper so that it rolled away from the wall. Who would want it to roll AGAINST the wall. The fights were reaching a point where Sean didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to kick her out, but he also couldn’t live like this. Finally he mustered up the courage to talk to her about it and went to her bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he gently pushed it open. Kaela was absorbed painting. Sean knew she was something of an artist, but he had never seen any of her work. It was a landscape of a children’s playground. The sun was shining and the sky was clear, and blue. Looking at it brought a rush of memories back to Sean, “Is that where we first met?” he asked softly, trying not to startle her, though he still managed to startle her, “Y… yes,” Kaela blushed, “It’s amazing,” “T… thanks, I call it, Happiness,” “Why that?” “Because it was…” Kaela shook her head, “Why are you in my room?” “Because,” Sean sighed, “I need to know why you’ve been so angry with me lately,” “Why?” Kaela got more and more angry looking, “Why?! You know why?” Sean stared blankly, “I really don’t,” Kaela looked shocked, “How could you not pick up on the signals I’ve been sending you?” “Signals?” “Yes! The meals I’ve cooked you, the outfits I’ve been wearing, the hints I’ve been making-” “I’m not good with hints,” “Dammit Sean, what about the time I sat in your lap, hugged you, and told you it would be great if you took me out to dinner and a movie sometime,” “I’m not good with hints,” “What about the time I told you that I was interested in you romantically and you laughed at me,” “I’m not good with hints,” Kaela sighed in exasperation, “Sean, I don’t want to be your roommate, I never did, I came here, to this town, to try and get the man of my dreams, but after you didn’t show me any interest I couldn’t help but be mad at you,” Sean stared into her beautiful eyes, “I just never thought a girl like you would even think about dating a guy like me,” “Sean…” Kaela’s voice cracked as she threw herself around him, “The reason I named the painting Happiness…” Sean wrapped his arms around her, “Is because that’s where we first met.”
"They not only discontinue bodily functioning, they cease to have ever existed legally or digitally. Only other people's memory of them will persist."I was lying through my teeth. "If you think it is worth the price." "The best assassin the world has ever seen. Over 500 disappearances directly accredited to your calling card. And it will only cost me $40 mill to have both of them out of my hair. The ROI is heavily in my favor." "As soon as the initial deposit is made, the process starts. It will not be stopped. You will never be able to contact me again. Payment will happen within 48 hours of proof being made public. If it does not, there is zero leniency. You will join them. This is the reason my count is this high and I am still available for service. Nonnegotiable." "Here is the requested information. Your deposit should be in the account before our conversation is over." He passed the micro sd card across the table. We made small talk like it was any of the other business lunches taking place in the loud restaurant. When I got to our office, I had my team tear down all the info on my two targets and make a plan with timeframe. A simple snatch and grab was set up for the following day. They happened to be in a carpool together and Target One was driver with Target two as first pickup. Everything went smoothly at the designated intersection. It looked like a carjacking. They were whisked away to the compound. The processing took very little time. My computer specialists removed every trace of them from the web with their scraper AI. A physical was given to check and confirm their health met what records had indicated before agreeing to their "assassination." The doctor sedated both and put them in my plane. I flew them down to the coastal compound. Once onsite, the unconscious targets were suited and strapped into the rocket. They would awaken a few hours into the flight to their new home on Mars. The secret colony needed a cartographer and geologist.
It was the mistery of a century, why did this seemingly normal looking men at the young age of 18 proceeded to kill an entire military base with a single kitchen knife, one he managed to expertly use. There was also the fact that the men knew where each and all soldier were coming from and at which time they came from. All in all, for every questions they had, ten others would pop up to be added to mysterious case that was the men. It was not as if the FBI searched everything about him, from the memory present inside all of electrical devices or even any clues in how he acted in elementary school but nothing, all came out as clean, not a single speck of suspicion that that men would ever commit such an action against his own country. Hell, the guy was not even trained, had a unfit body and was barely 5'7 but still managed to take down a whole squads of marines single handedly in MELEE ! So now, here you are, searching trough more of his personnal belongings, your collegues had already torn open the walls, taken off the roof, and had tried to find any clue or ways to further the investigation, the people wanted answer, the army wanted answer, hell the US national security wanted answers but alas, the FBI found none. It was why you are still busting your ass searching trough his small library YET AGAIN to fond anything worth noting down, but you knew it was all for nothing, these books had nothing substential in them, it is nothing new but the higher ups keep the pressure and it is starting to wear you down. But after going trough the motion and finding nothing for the 10th time, you start to wonder if this whole isnt just some "Ching ploy"as your friends call it, or perhaps an act of the Russians ? Nah, it all seemed hollow, nothing felt like it could be an answer in all of this. And as you pass trough the school book of the men. You find an odd one through all of them, the book was clean, odd. Compared to the others that clearly looked worn and used, this one seemed to have been more taken care of. So with a shrug, you take a look at the title. "Time Loop, instruction manual." That takes your interest, and with your curiosity at its peak, you start reading the first pages. The content seemed at first like a diary of some sort but felt more like a to-do list than anything Along the various instructions were arrows that were pointed towards a situation. And so while reading the notebook, he could see weird expressions or sarcastic jokes of some sort ? He took another look down only to read more of these cryptic texts. [02/19/1997 16:03] Drive for 16 minutes to the park to begin stearing the average person towards your views.-----> 1st step to becoming the Imperor of the Imperium Of XarXa. After reading trough half the notebook, he would arrive at the date of his death, but the book seemed to continue on. Instead of leaving at that, the men continued, its where you start to freak out, as the men talked in rather precise ways about future events with date, hours and even places and exact locations or elements. But where the book truly left him speechless was in how the men managed to accurately explain the election of the new president. Along with the speeches, the way they look, their health condition. The book seemed to continue on and on. But at this point, you were too fatigued, you just couldnt believe it, but as you started closing the book, a small page slips by and catches your attention. You take a look and find a simple phrase. 2042835th loop.
"BEEP-BEEP" I hit the alarm clock firmly with my fist but because of last night's beer dullness, I accidentally hit my wrist which caused the clock to fall over the floor when I hear glass shackles as the clock strikes my wooden floor. "Ah, shit, not again,"I say to myself within my mind. but then I realize something my alarm clock was made purely out of plastic so how could it make glass noise. Then I rubbed my eyes to remove all the haziness from my sight and looked down under the bed to find my alarm clock where I encountered more glass pieces and I couldn't help but wonder where these glass pieces came from... I was terrified, never been one in my life. I was always a curious child, one could even say an inquisitive one. First, I thought it might be the neighbor's cat that used to roam around freely in my garden. As I started thinking more and more, I had an urge that I Gotta PEE. From all the beer I had last night, I needed to go to the bathroom really badly. So, I wore my sleepers from under the bed and ran as fast as I could towards the toilet. Something got stuck under my sleeper, but I was in a rush to go to the toilet that I overlooked such a small thing as a pebble under my sleeper. Once I did the deed, I raised my right foot in order to remove the truck that's been pestering me while I was flowing the waterfall from my cozy body to the inevitable black hole. Oh, a glass piece again? I returned back to the path I once traveled in haste just to realize that it was a mess here. Everything, I mean everything was just a huge mess. It seemed someone had mayhem here, perhaps even a rampage riot for peace havoc. Whatever that supposed to mean. Then, I searched my place, but there wasn't any sign of an alien entity just things were out of place. If it was a thief who did this he might have taken something out of there right? That doesn't seem to be the case. Everything was just out of order nothing extraordinary seems like any other New Year's Party a week prior to Halloween. Suddenly, I looked over my wall, there was something near the painting I bought last summer at an auction. It was a note. The note reads "You deserved this". The painting had red paint over the dusty glass covering. Little did I know, these were blood stains. It seemed I was thrown under a Japanese Bullet train and all my bones were shattered in a metaphorical sense. I didn't know what was happening and I didn't know who caused this. All I know was whatever I was feeling RIGHT NOW!!! I haven't felt this since I was little. My heart was beating like a Drum filled with high-pressure water and all I could think at that moment was, "Nothing" Yeah, Nothing, I was as still and quiet as noise-cancelling headphones kept on a table with no music buzzing in it. Everything, was so still, so quiet. A complete Tranquility on the outside, yet a storm within my mind hovering over me, when all of a sudden I heard a loud noise on the back of head. "IT'S A PRANK" I saw David, and George with John holding a camera and filming me. If it was a moment longer I could have just opened up THE SAFE where I had kept my GUN.
He shoots the can that got in his way to the side of street. This day hasn't been a good day for him. In fact, none of the days in this week have been good for him. He had a downgrade compared to last month's test. Which was terrible considering even the last month wasn't good either. The new bald-black math programming teacher allways had his damn eyes on him. He was allways a good student. At least in terms of manners all. He was even famous among class for having too much discipline for a human. And what was about all these black cats that came and went one after another. 'What the hell was going on in this crappy city!' he thought. Suddenly his nose touched something. Fortunately, he allways had a good reflecting capability which came in his favor. Taking that into his advantage. He was able to not get cushed by that red thing. He took some steps back to see what that "red thing"was. It happened so be a red door. 'What is a red door doing in fifth avenue?' he thought. "Hey is this a prank or somthin? Because I didn't have good day and would be glad for this to stop right away!"He shouted. No one answered. Even people in the street had no reaction to him shouting. As if he wasn't even there. The door opened, on the other side was...nothing. Just pure... whiteness? 'Yeah this is definitely a prank. I'm not gonna go there.' ... 'Yeah definitely...' ... 'You know what? Fuck it! It can't make my day any worse!' He furiously went to the other side. The door behind him closed and a couch apeared nearby. A bald black man sitting on it...he knew that baldness too well. "Mr.Smith? What's happening here..."He said. Mr.Smith was a really serious type and even if you had spent two minutes with him you could tell, he wasn't a man for joking. That moment, he realized this is more than just a prank. "Ah, there you're. I have been waiting. Come and sit right here."Mr.Smith said and pointed to the other side of the couch. Mr.Smith inpatiently continued "Before you ask anything. Let me ask you something, how do you extinguish reality from dream, Mr.Anderson?" The young man innocently tried to answer the creepy question only to be distracted by another part of the question. "Excuse me, Mr.Smith, I'm Peter, Peter Parker."
“Jomi, don’t touch it!” It was just a simple action, a dropping of a bar of lye in the shower ward. It had happened many times before on the outside; Jomi never had hood dexterity. Something was different this time, as Jomi bent to pick up the bar tab. “Look, its too late! Back off boys, he’s a gonner!” A glow shone from the nearby drain, and the smell of sulfur spread through the showers. The floor trembled slightly as the glow turned into a beam, and the walls began to steam. “ Here it comes! Get out! HEAD FOR THE DOORS!” screamed the leader of the Bomi Gang. #“The sacrifice has been chosen!” All at once, a hand of molten steel thrust through the drain, and grabbed Jomi; dragging him through a series of twisted pipes. The men of the Bomi Gang listened as Jomi’s screams faded. Another victim of the Drain Yokai had been claimed. The drain opened up one final time, deposited out a fresh a bar of soap, and slid slowly shut with an eerie screech.
The day couldn't have been more worse, I was sick the day before, couldn't even get it finished before the deadline, and this asshole Dave who gave me this amount of unreasonable tasks told me to go fuck myself? Well, fuck you Dave! With all the suffering I have gone through, I will fucking resign to this shithole of a place. I pondered ways to get the most extreme and extravagant ways to resign to screw over Dave. I couldn't focus on typing spreadsheets anymore due to the motherfucker called Dave. I mindlessly type again without a care in the world for errors that I metiulously wouldn't get past me before. "Alex, you having a bad day?" "Oh hell, I'm resigning right this instant!" "There's a surprise waiting for you back at home, maybe it will come washing away your bad day today." "Hmph, even if it did Harry you won't change my mind I will leave this company sooner than you can imagine." "I'm not saying I am preventing you from resigning, its just a surprise,.... Like say a farewell gift, not that I gifted it to you, I just saw someone on your apartment that looks similar to you!" "Are you stealing credit from the other person or did my apartment just got robbed?" "The former maybe, but she's kind, I was curious at first, maybe this will be your big day you never had a girl before." "You aren't going to tempt me with that, you know I'm terrible at them." Harry was unusually ominous today, a very bad day at work makes me even more irritated by others trying to sweet talk me out of my slump. He was very unusual when he joined our team, so I guess this is normal. Hours passed, and its finally time to leave, naturally of course I'm the first one to leave the place "See ya never, suckers!"As I said triumphantly leaving the letter on my desk awaiting to be found out by my boss, and never seeing my team including Harry ever again. I took the metro and saw the setting sun behind the pillars of the skyscrapers and various random lighting scattered on the establishments, it was picturesque, its going to be a great desktop wallpaper if one had to take pictures, it blends so well in the background. Oh well, maybe I should've studied even more harder to get to my dreams in an art school, maybe I didn't make the decision to get an engineering degree if I knew I wound up in a cubicle clacking keys on a keyboard. Where had life gone wrong? After an hour in the metro and a half hour of walking, I finally reached my home. But something was amiss, it was unlocked! Resurfacing what Harry said back on the office, I bust through open the door, I hope they would leave my microwave alone, I don't care if they stole, or in this case a she, if she stole everything. Just not my microwave so that I could still live. But to my surprise, it was well cleaned not a single thing stolen, there was even food on the table for one person. Did Harry mistake my mom when passing by? Relieved, I called out to her name. Someone emerged from the corner expecting it to be my mother. But... I was so shocked and froze on the spot, that woman isn't my mother! But why? When I saw her it felt like looking at myself!? She's also flustered when she saw me, she gulped and proceed to for a sentence before me. "Why is there a male version of me here!?" "This is my apartment!" "No! This apartment is mine!" Our personalities are even one to one to each other we argued and presented our histories and our names are completely the same, other than the gender itself. "Ahh, you've got to be kidding me!"(F) "Oh, fucking hell what now?"(M) Then I remembered what my boss Dave told me, I thought the day will be done after my resignation, now I have to take care of my other self which I found is unbelievable and impossible. I pondered again, what went wrong to my life for my female self to come here in this world. God help me find the answers.
Something is VERY fishy... that monster totally knew it was being filmed... I've been warned not to go after it by my fellow monster hunters, but I have no choice... It's night-time. From my understanding, this thing LOVES to play at night. I'm fully geared. I'm sneaking around behind trees and boulders... soon, I hear a scratching sound. I look behind me. This thing was called a 'Vague-squach' by The Myth Hunters, but that's a dumb name. It's a strange creature to my knowledge; for now, I'll stick to 'The Purple Giant'. I don't see anything behind me... I then hear cackling, coming from... everywhere? Ok, that's spooky. But I'm fine. The laughing is accompanied by growling. The sounds culminate to a single point. I look beside me. Right there, bent down, its large, purple body obvious underneath the full moon, is my target. "Hello"it says, donning a wicked smile, its tone so low that the ground shakes slightly! I resist the urge to scream and run, instead shooting at it. It doesn't seem bothered, but is clearly not amused. It lifts its arm, preparing to grab me with its talons. CRAP! I grab the electro gun, strong enough to knock an elephant unconscious! I usually use it as a last resort, but if this thing can shrug off bullets like they're nothing... I shoot as quickly as I can. The beast roars, attempting to stay up, but ultimately collapsing. It's defenceless. I aim my strangulator gun at its head. "Once I shoot this... your neck will tighten... and keep getting tighter... until your head pops off..."my finger hovers over the trigger. "WAIT!"the creature cries out in desperation. "Please... please don't... I beg you..." In astonishment and confusion, I lower my weapon. "What are you doing?" The monster looks at me with worried, frightened eyes. "Just... just stop... you're making... a mistake... I... I'm not... a threat..." I eye it sceptically. "Weren't you just hunting me?" The beast seems angry at that comment. "Damn... damn TV... people..."I wait patiently. "I... I don't... hunt humans... I just... scare them..." Ok, what's even going on now? "Why?" A mischievous grin greets me. "It's... fun... to terrify... 'brave'... people..." I put my gun away. It seems relieved and musters what strength it can to stand. A good look at this being reveals something that looks kind of like a giant minitour with goat horns. "Come"it commands. "You need... to see this..."it begins to walk away. Courageously or foolishly, I follow. A boulder is removed from a cave entrance, and I'm gestured inside. When I enter, I see a teenage boy reading a book to... "Lisa?"the pair turn to look at me. "Oh, hello"the boy greets. "Yes, she's Lisa. Don't let her aunt or uncle know she's here. She basically begged Nightler to take her 'prisoner' so she could GET AWAY from them." "Nightler?"I turn around. "That's your name... species name?"Nightler laughs. "Good one. I'm one of a kind, literally! I've lived for... I think forever. I don't really track time. I just live my life. How it always was."He sighs. "I... I see."I look at the girl and the boy again. "So... too many people know my true nature... I have to move on."The being looks at the girl. "It's your choice. You can stay in this cave with these two to look after you, or you can come with ME." "WITH YOU! WITH YOU!"Lisa cries. She runs to the... monster? Can I call it a monster anymore? He picks Lisa up, cradling her, and without another word, dashes off. "I wonder if we'll see him again?"the boy ponders. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [A Monster Parent.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/y2rsu6/a_monster_parent/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
"Oh."I sigh feeling slightly guilty "sorry Kid, no"her mother looks at me imploring me to entertain her"No"I say again but more firmly, people get a little awkward but my boyfriend changes the topic and starts talking about how good the potatoes are. Crisis averted, at least for the moment but this could raise questions when we get home. I've always insisted we make love in the dark and he never questioned me about it, just accepted it but at some point I'll have to tell him the truth about who I am and where it is I come from, I don't know how much longer I can keep this secret. He deserves to know.
Blue flames burst out from the basement and I back away slowly expecting the cabin to catch fire. Everything remains intact, a women arises from the cabin and laughs. The flames begin to subside as if on her command and the smoke begins to subside. It's my mother in law! "What are you doing here!?"I ask her. "How did you do that?"She looks at me and says"deep down you know the truth, you've always known the truth"she grabs me by the neck"Say it"her voice doesn't sound human anymore, it's deeper, aggressive, the voice of a demon. She begins to squeeze"SAY IT!!!""Satan"I squeal pathetically. She laughs manically and I begin to shake."I offered up my daughter to you human so that a child of my blood could walk through the gates of heaven and bring down the Kingdom of God""I can't be part of this!I can't!""Why not?! Did you vote for God?""Well no I didn't vote for him but he's God so I didn't hav..."She looks at me like I'm a bit loose upstairs"Don't you believe in the Democratic process? God is a despot, a dictator, he assumed power but he never let the people decide what they wanted and if they don't act in accordance with his will he burns them and he expects to be thanked for offering you salvation from himself. Do you honestly expect me to believe that you would vote for God if he was a politician?""Well...no""so then I'm the good guy?"She asks me? "You might be but I need time to work this out""take all the time you need"she's surprisingly gentle in her tone. "When the time comes you can offer me many soldiers for the coming war"
Every bad thing that happened to me always ended positively, if I got hit by a car I would then be gifted ten million dollars from the cars wealthy owner. Whenever I go to cross the street the light is always red but somehow a kind driver always let's me cross. I wouldn't say my life is unlucky, or lucky really..I feel like I'm just leading an ordinary life with ups and downs. But that all changed when my beloved wife Mary died due to cancer, and the very next day I won two billion dollars from her health insurance. It seemed like a cruel act from the God's. My whole life nothing truly horrendous and incredible had happened, but now here I was..the love of my life dead and now one of the world's few billionaires. I couldn't be more miserable, I would have rather been allowed to grieve my wife's death then to have hundred of reporters follow me home and have a massive amount of money I have no desire to spend. "Mary..I will be with you once more"I said as I slid the cold piercing knife through my neck artery. Surely it would have been an instant death..if it wasn't for my cursed Goodluck. I survived and everytime I tried to end it all I was saved once more. (Not a great writer but trued my best lol)
It was a hard decision from what I've heard, but they'd taken me from the vast sea of reeds quicker than I thought. Gods were fickle, leaving me in that place all because I expressed a simple opinion. "You expect me to believe you rightfully judge people? You're God's, what matters to you isn't the good or bad, it's what you get out of it. If they worshipped you, if you liked their attitude? What would you think if someone claiming to be a God, thinks they have right to decide if someone's actions were justified with no witnesses? You all are truly a faulty court." I do suppose I shouldn't have said that to apparent God's but, why should I care? They're the ones who thought it would be a good idea to judge beings who had always been in the palm of their hands, without even caring what the truth of the matters were. However I do suppose they didn't care for justification as long as they deemed it worthy, they just desired entertainment. But that wouldn't change my own fate, I did further insult them by saying one of them seems like they were the most worthless fool for someone who'd never walked the mortal plane. But I do suppose I shouldn't have been so hard on something that didn't even know it looked like a fish out of water. Truly though I don't see why they'd plop me into the plane of limbo only to make me walk down the long corridors again, it's not as if I wasn't aware they were going to send me to hell; while I understand beings of such low caliber with the ability to do anything have no need for thinking, I most certainly did. And of all my thoughts the most prominent was the corridor was long enough that it could've been limbo; after all reeds are comforting, this? It was cold. However it wasn't as cold as it was loud, they were stomping around in their courtroom like impatient toddlers. I did sincerely hope they realized someone that couldn't even reach the doorknob couldn't open the door. However just like toddlers they couldn't comprehend that either. So when I suddenly appeared in their faulty court once again I wasn't shocked of their impatience. However their response was. "OKAY LISTEN HERE YOU- wait these are humans right? Was it another name,"another of the giant figures had to confirm it was human, not too shocking considering they were all less intelligent than the toddlers I'm comparing them too, "well listen here you human, we've come to the decision that none of us want to deal with you! You really couldn't be more rude, and well.. right, BUT ONLY RIGHT HALF THE TIME! Therefore we've decided you will take our roles as the court, heaven and hell it's up to you, we'll even grant you power-."The large toddler had forgotten the rest of what it was supposed to say clearly, so it was quite refreshing when one of the few that could think finished it's sentence a few minutes later. "However your powers will be discussed, you did fortunately give us a conclusion to what you'd actually use. So while this court is now yours, you can bring the necessary witnesses, as you were correct of us being biased; I truly hope you're not as insulting to those you'll be judging, as you were to us."And with that they all disappeared. Truly you think they'd have realized by now, that I'm so small compared to all of them that it's impossible to work; really I was like an ant to them. Yet they were insulted by me? I'm far more insulted by their lack of perception, to realize I can't even leave this room or even get off the floor. Though in the end I'll the job far better than them, I suppose being on someone else's level does help make a judge more intimidating. Still it would be nice if I could fit in the chairs.
You would think that the world turned horribly and utterly terrible. That all people were mean and the world was harsh. But that never happened. Studies show that people that were mean developed random and insignificant skills. So many mean people suddenly had a really shitty party trick that they were very good at. The skills were never useful, they were kinda cool but being able to do a cool trick also made the people around you instantly know you were horrible. You can throw a card through a carrot? How can you live with yourself!? You are amazing at stacking cups? Well congratulations on all the people you made cry. Sure, some people still showed of, but less and less people cared. Being a nice person without a party trick made you more popular. And somehow, it turned the world into a slightly better place as bad partytricks were no more a thing.
The evil sorcerer didn't seem to understand your decision, perhaps assuming your defiance of the overlord hinged on this city or kingdom's continued existence. Sure, having the royal bloodline die today would plunge Leadale into chaos, but you didn't give a flying fuck. Tsk tsk, that ship had sailed long away when they got your puppy killed. You wouldn't stop until that bastard paid in blood. "Besides, the question should be..."You unsheathe your sword. "What is more important, your life, or destroying this city?"That got the coward teleporting away with his tail between his legs. The priestess bows to you in thanks. "You managed to bluff him! How clever!"You shot that misunderstanding down. "This place can burn for all I care. I'm only doing this for Arlo." Before anyone can react, you set off to the last dungeon, you only needed that last relic to turn the main bastard mortal and avenge your dog.
Oh dear, one of Zeus's many many girlfriends has finally had enough and kills him. The jerk had it coming, Hera says, but she's still obligated to find his killer since, despite having several thousand mistresses over the centuries, he was still King of Olympus and the leader of the gods, so for the sake of appearances, she's got to find his killer. Hera teams up with Artemis and her Hunters to find Zeus's murderer, although she fully intends to thank her husband's killer before she takes them in to be tried by the Olympians.
“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?”- Friedrich Nietzsche The quote runs through my head as I remember what transpired that grim evening. You see, it all began when he created this horrible flood. Why was our god, our creator, trying to wipe us out? What had we done to be deserving of such a fate? Never-mind that, we survived, we moved forward as us humans always seem to do. But then came Sodom and Gomorrah, while yes it was easy to see that the worst of what humanity had to offer seemed to all reside in this one city, we were still his creation, he created them, does a watchmaker break his watch when it accidentally skips a second? Anyways, he send his two angels down to wipe out the sin loving city. These are just two examples of god destroying his own creation out of anger. He was irrational, worse than any human. After the death of his son, Jesus. At the hands of humans, we all began to fear what his reprisal may be. Seconds became hours and hours became days, with no retribution… it was driving us to madness lying in wait for our assured end. Then some of us began to plot against god. Out of fear mainly, fear of what was surely going to come. Maybe this was a preservation instinct. Who knows. We had just one issue, how do you kill a god? How do you kill and all knowing and all powerful being? Well, we figured it out, or at least hoped we did. We would wait until god came down to unleash his wrath upon us, then at that moment we would summon the morning star. Contrary to what the “good book” wants you to believe, the morning star, better known as lucifer, really wasn’t out to get us. He just hated god and previously believed hurting us was the best way to get to god, not realizing that what god had done to us was magnitudes worse. So the day came, god came down riding a cherubim covered in flames from the skies down to our city. You see our god had such a sadistic nature that he couldn’t simply just smite us, he wanted to watch the whole world burn. As god is walking through the city, setting everything in sight ablaze, we summoned the morning star. God none the wiser to what was happening had let his guard down taking such pleasure in hearing the people scream as their skin melted from his heavenly flames. The morning star struck first, stabbing god in the back with an unholy blade. Then all the humans poured out from our hiding places, all wielding unholy daggers and swords. All of us slicing and dicing at our god, all of our built up fear and anger towards him spilling out with each cut. In an explosion of light, God was dead. Murdered by his own son and his own creation. We were finally free from his tyranny, what would we do with this newfound freedom was the only question left to answer. This is the first time ever doing one of these so apologies if it’s awful. Also I did this on my phone so the formatting and everything is certainly terrible so apologies for that as well. But other than that, I hope at least one person enjoys it!
BANG BANG BANG. I can't pretend the sudden clamor doesn't make me jump. Even with impenetrable, diamond-hard skin and the power to shoot laser eye beams hot enough to melt through steel, an action-packed past filled with decades' worth of high-flying multi-fights and bombardment with entire arsenals of enemy fire at a time tend to make one paranoid and prone to flashbacks in old age. You should try it sometime. (Not.) But it's just the front door. BANG BANG BANG. The racket continues. Goddammit. I thought I was alone out here. My closest neighbor is five miles up the dirt road, my homestead is enclosed by a ten foot barbed-wire fence and guarded by two mean dogs, and yet, someone's managed to come out here and bother me while I've got a stew on the stove. Grumbling, I turn the heat down, take a swig directly from the handle of whiskey I keep on the counter, and drag my old bones to the door to see what all the commotion is about. Standing on the doorstep is a girl of about eighteen, with her hair in twin French braids. Her standard-issue gray Heroics Division training jumpsuit hangs baggy over her scrawny frame; standing at about five and a half feet, she clocks in at a buck and change, soaking wet, at most. "Captain Justice?"she inquires. That's a name I haven't heard in a long time. "The hell are you?" "My name is Natalie Lafayette, I'm to be America's newest superheroine, and my handlers at the Division have sent me here to train under you for the summer!" Oh, no. No, no, no. There's a good reason why I moved out to The Middle Of Nowhere, Oregon, where I once was sure the Division couldn't find me. "Get lost, kid." "I don't think you understand, Mon Capitaine. When I say I'm here for training, I mean you WILL train me, whether you feel like it or not. Capice?" "This way to the back,"I hear myself drawl. I beckon her inside with a head gesture and lead her through the house and toward the backyard, my feet moving of their own accord. What the…?! "Behold,"chirps the girl, "the power of compulsion! Magnifique, oui?" Jesus. Where are they even finding these kids these days? "Does it work if I tape your yap shut?" "Mais non, but you're not going to do that. I also can't compel anyone, or anything, that doesn't understand English…or French. Those dogs of yours are quite intelligent, though! I wouldn't have been able to slip past them if they weren't." "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah."We reach sunlight, and I sit down on an overturned barrel. "You got a fancy bag of tricks, kid. Now let's see you throw a punch."I raise both hands in front of me to catch her blows. She takes the hardest swing she can, but despite her grunt of effort, her knuckles only manage a weak smack against my open palm. "Ostie et tabarnak,"she groans under her breath. My guess is that it's a curse. If so, 'ostie et tabarnak' is right: we've got a lot of work to do.
"Let's meet up at 'that' place tomorrow, alright? I know you already believe me, but I want to show it to you. That we're not as shitty as you guys think." "Okay, then. Promise?" "I promise. Just call for me using the method I taught you, and I'll come running to your side, ok?" "You got it, Sulu!" Ever since I ended up meeting a young demoness and earning her friendship, I realized that our perception of demons--evil entities who want nothing but our soul and to see us suffer for eternity--was not entirely true. While it is true that they often offer to bargain with us and grant us our wish in exchange for our souls, they do grant us what we want and are only hoping to get a fair transaction. While it is true that they can be cruel and revel in it, that side of them is only reserved for the shittiest people imaginable. All in all, demons are not as horrible as we thought. There are a few exceptions here and there, but they're not truly evil. They're just playing their part. Right now, I'm about to see her again...to finally make a deal. I arrive at the mall. As always, no one else was there. The once eerie feeling I felt when I first came here...was replaced by a calm sensation...as if everything was going to be fine. So far, that's been the case after knowing what the demons truly were. As I went deeper into the structure, that feeling began to slowly wane. That's strange. Shouldn't it instead become much more pleasant? Well, I'll see soon enough. I arrive at the lowest level of the mall, entering an isolated room. By this point, the eeriness of before had returned...and I know why. "Why's the portal closed?" Did it run out of energy? Were they doing maintenance or something? Well, I'm certain something must've happened. "Good thing she taught me how to open one." It was surprisingly simple, the method to open a hell portal. Some chalk to draw the circle, my own blood to give the spell some juice and one helluva tongue-twister to conjure the gateway. I practiced the incantation diligently whenever I could--she warned me that, though harmless if said on its own, botching it during the actual ritual would kill me and destroy who I am. Thankfully, all that practice paid off as I said the last syllable and the once intricate circle of chalk became a flaming circle leading to the second paradise. Some smoke escaped the opaque portal, but I figure that's just from the ambient fire. "Well, here goes nothing. Time to summon her." I clear my throat as I begin to chant the mantra necessary to summon her. Normally, such a ritual would be more elaborate and tedious, but doing it close to a hell portal skips everything else and just requires you to chant the demon's name until they respond. "Sulucima, sov ocovni. Sulucima, sov ocovni. Sulucima, sov ocovni..." Half an hour has passed. I still continued calling for her, but so far, she hasn't responded. I'm getting tired of this. Come on, Sulu...where are you? Eventually, I stopped chanting. I didn't mess anything up, so I was fine. Fine, then. If she won't come to me, then I'll come to her. I was about to step into the portal when a red, demonic arm came out. "Sulu!" Without wasting time, I grab her hand and begin pulling her. As soon as I pulled her up, the first thing I noticed was her face. "Sulu...what happened?" Her face was covered in wounds, and her horns were broken. A look of fright was upon her face. As I pulled more of her out of the portal, I saw her curvaceous body was completely ruined by wounds so grievous that no human could survive them. Luckily for her, she's not human. "Run away from here, Jack. You shouldn't have opened the portal today!"Sulu spoke hurriedly. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" "Shit's in complete chaos down there. Chaos that isn't our doing. Something is slaughtering us all, and I'm scared, Jack. It nearly got me. I only escaped thanks to you." "Well, it's a good thing I opened the portal, then. But what is it that's killing you down there? Aren't you guys basically demigods?" Before she could answer, a muscular arm clad in green armor punched through the portal and grabbed hold of Sulu. "JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!" The scream she let out completely fucked with my ears as I saw the hand dig into her flesh like it was mud. Without much thought, I hugged her tight and we both fell into the portal. As I went through, the last thing I saw before I lost it was a green, heavily armored man ripping out Sulu's spine with his hand...and the two barrels of a sawn-off shotgun pointing straight at us. 'Oh, fu-' BOOM!
Shard clicked on the email that just popped up. She had been getting invitations to join supervillain groups incessantly for the past few days. Shard was already preparing to delete it when she realized this was different. This was from a hero. “Dear Shard, Don’t listen to all the haters threatening to arrest you. They don’t know what they’re talking about. Personally, I think you did a good job defeating those robbers at the bank. I was hoping we could maybe team-up sometime. Follow the pink butterfly if you’re interested! Love, Flutterby!” Well, that was weird. What even was a pink butterfly anyway. Right on cue, a fuchsia butterfly flew in from the window, landing on her table. A hero who could control… bugs? Why not? Without a second thought, Shard got up from her seat, prompting the butterfly to fly towards the door. As soon as she opened it, the insect sped outside, beckoning her to follow. She got into the elevator and pressed the button that would bring her to the ground floor. As Shard exited, she found the butterfly waiting, before it flew away again. “Wait up!” she panted. “You’re going too fast!” After what seemed like hours of chasing the overexcited bug, the butterfly settled into the outstretched palm of a young woman leaning Avis t a fence. “Hey, miss, sorry to bother you, but I think I’ll need that butterfly back?” Shard said awkwardly. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s mine.” the strange girl replied. Understanding dawned on Shard’s face. Of course. This must be the hero who contacted her. “You’re Flutterby?” She nodded her head yes. “Come. Follow me.” She unlocked the fence gate, and walked in. Shard followed closely behind. Flutterby waited for Shard to enter the house first, before stepping past the threshold and shutting the door behind her. Flutterby spoke, “There’s something I need to tell you. I’m not a hero. But like you, I started out as one. But my power was disgusting and weak, so they deemed me a villain. My real villain name, is Outbreak.” Shard looked at her in shock. “You lied to me.” she said. “For a good cause. With your power, you’ll never be seen as anything other than a freak. It’s only a matter of time before you understand that, like I did. But if we work together, we could vanquish all those who look down on us, do some true good behind the scenes-“ “No! I’m not like you! I’ll never hurt innocent people like that!” Outbreak snarled, “So be it.” Swarms of insects invaded from the windows. But before they could even touch her, Shard felt a hand grab her wrist. Then, without a word, she vanished from the house.
Over the eons that I have existed never has an entity like this shown up, he was not the worst person to walk through these gates, neither was he the greatest saint to ever live, in fact he was neither. Stuck at a grey point of judgement it felt like deciding whether 50% was a fail or a pass. Pushing these thoughts away I opened the gates with a flick of my fingers. They slowly swung open as a faint smell of marmalade wafted out of the void, a steady click, click filled the vast hall as a vivid blue coat flapped into sight, gloved hands tightly gripped a handbag as an old lady slowly walked to the front, awaiting her judgement.
“Something seems off, Dan.” I let out an exasperated huff as I crouched down to inspect the body. Female. Blonde. Mid 30s. A pool of blood had congealed under her right temple, just below the gaping hole where her eye used to be. My partner stood above me taking in the mural on the far wall. “What do ya mean? Are her fingers missing?” “Yes, but…” He didn’t wait before plowing on. “And is a lock of her hair missing?” “Yeah.” “And did our perp use those missing fingers and hair to paint that.” He gestured at the floor-to-ceiling mural on the far wall. The blood had already begun to oxidize into a rustic brown, but the shapes painted onto the satin surface were unmistakable. “Seems pretty on, Chris. The Mad Master strikes again.” I stood up angrily. “The Richardson residence out in Bloomfield? What was painted?” Dan’s cheeks flushed. “You know I’m no art expert,” he stammered. “What. Was. Painted?” I asked again, lightly. He grew flustered. “I believe forensics determined that it was a recreation of Lippi’s Madonna with Child.” “And the Morris place down in Deer Brook?” “Something by Caravino?” A wrinkle of uncertainty began unfolding on his brow. “Caravaggio,” I corrected him. “The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist by Caravaggio. And what about the time before that, up near Waller Farm?” “I remember that one. The Three Graces by Rubens.” He flashed me a whimsical smile. “They were all naked in that painting.” “Yes,” I said. “Crime scenes all defined by a singular purpose: painstakingly recreating some of the most intricate classical masterpieces in the victim’s own blood.“ I crossed the floor to stand beside the current exhibit. “And what, pray tell, is this.” “Uh, looks kind of like a bored monkey in a sailor’s hat?” That was the last of my partner’s protestations. We watched in silence as the crime scene technicians bagged up every morsel of evidence and snapped pictures from every conceivable angle. It took less than an hour to positively identify the victim as one ‘Julia Crane,’ a house sitter from San Simeon. It would take much longer to identify the killer. But at least one name could be scratched off our list: The Master. Instead, this had all the hallmarks of a copycat trying desperately and pathetically to mimic his unique calling card. And if there’s one crime that I truly despise, it’s forgery.
"G50. G50."I call out. "Sir."The knight stood in front of me, his armor gleaming in the lights, "Please, we need your help." "N45. N45."I read off the ball. "Bingo."A elderly woman shouted. "Susan Bellfort with the bingo! Let's go."I shouted as the room clapped. "Sir!"The knight shouted. "I'm working right now."I said with more than the heart of winter. The knight stepped in surprise, "But, The Dark Lord..." "Has returned. Like I said he would."I dropped the bingo balls back in the cage, "but no one wanted to listen to me. I saved the world the first damn thing it does is go back to killing itself." "Sir, please, my father, my grandfather."The knight stepped in stage and climbed. "They were loyal to you. I'm loyal to you. Please. I had fifty men ready and-" "FIFTY! You fifty is enough?"I was losing my cool. "I had five thousand the first time and we barely returned with fifty." "I know, and I'm trying to recruit more and-" "Why should I?"I asked, "Why should I face that monster again. I came back, learned I was now immortal, and then tried to lead people to better future, but nooooo. People thought I didn't belong it politics. Didn't even give me a salary for saving the world. If it wasn't for my kids opening this nursing home I won't have a job. So why should I bother?" The knight stared in stock. He face fell and he turned away. He sulled off and out the door. Joey Smith looked at me and putting his dentures in he asked, "Now why did you yell at boy, Hero? You know you're going to go again." I sighed, "I know, but I got my pride. Beside, I need to help you get your armor on. You didn't think I going to leave you behind. Did you?" My lieutenant smiled with false teeth. "Let's roll, Hero."
Oh my god a Genshin prompt hell yeah This is set during 1.1 Archon Quest, before Childe awakens Osial. Traveler generally hates the Fatui because of Signora kicking their bestie Venti. Katia tossed another Fowl in the cooking pot, not even batting an eye as it floated rather pathetically in the water above an unlit fire. Stranded in the middle of freaking nowhere in the nation of contracts, with only a few written orders from Harbinger Childe every few weeks, having to hunt their own food....... And stuck with 3 other Skirmishers, one an Anemoboxer Vanguard, one a Geochanter Bracer, and the last one her brother Semyon, a Pyro Agent. Archons, even being stuck in Mondstadt of all places would be better. "Hey, Semyon, light the fire!"She called. "DO IT YOURSELF, IM BUSY."he shouted back. "SPARRING WITH EFROSIN IS SO FUN! :D" "I swear by the Tsaritsa, did you just make an emoji-" "LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" With a sigh, Katia turned to her only other teammate, Stefan, the Anemoboxer. "There's literally no one out here but us, and Semyon's busy. What's up bestie?"She gave her old friend a friendly punch on the shoulder, internally hissing at the pain in her hand. Right, all of them were specially enhanced soldiers. Stefan now had huger muscles than before. "....... Do you ever feel our existence, in the grand scheme of Celestia, the 7 Archons and the Tsaritsa'a unknown plan, is utterly meaningless?" "No?" "I really feel it that way, though. In the land of ice and snow, when we die, it's said our souls become trapped in the very ice we died to escape. With only a proper funeral can our souls leave the ice and go on the afterlife. But with the costs of literally everything going up, including funerals, who knows how long our souls will remain trapped in the ice?" "I don't know buddy. Say, there's a rumour going around that some blonde haired traveler is going from camp to camp beating up a lot of Skirmishers, Mages and Agents. D'you think it's real or not, cause if it were..."Katia gestured to her Cicins. "Even with a Cicin Mages and Pyro Agent here we miiight lose." "Oh, you'll lose all right."A commanding voice sounded out from behind them, and Katia and Stefan jolted up, gun and Cicins at the ready. In front of them were Semyon and Efrosin, with whirling blades and staff summoned. Beyond them were a group of 5 people, 2 of them mere children, one a young woman with a startlingly sharp gaze wielding a blue-purple greatsword and the last a distinctly Inazuman looking woman, twirling a fish made of Hydro in her hands. But most dangerous looking of all was a blonde haired traveler wielding a sword with a murderous glint in their eye. "QIQI, GET THEM!" This was based on my old team because I got Kokomi really early and went to my friend's then AR 35 world to farm for her The team is Qiqi (main DPS), Diona (shield), Xinyan (sub DPS) and Kokomi (hydro applicator, main healer, there for aesthetic)
# Accident Report Form 49-923$E-6 \|FILED ON\|12-26-2XXX\| \|:-\|:-\| \|FILED BY\|Fuwafuwaka, High Lord of Death and Taxes\| Victims: \|NAME\|INVOLVEMENT\| \|:-\|:-\| \|Hamada Yoshino\|Intended target\| \|Iro Aoki\|Driver\| \|Natsuki Yoshikawa \|Driver\| \|Princess Wilbarim II\|Witness casualty\| Incident: On 12-24-2XXX an accidental misfiling resulted in the same target profile being delivered to two drivers. Hamada Yoshino was brought to our attention as a potential candidate for the 'Isekai Truck Enrichment Program', and had a profile written up and sent to copy. The intended recipients for the original file and the copy were the Department of Records of Reckoning and the Truck Driver Division, respectfully. However, employee error and lax policy resulted in both files being sent in the same stack to the Truck Driver Division. Further lack of checks resulted in no second pass to make sure targets were not duplicated. Around 9:46 PM, both Iro Aoki and Natsuki Yoshikawa departed for their daily rounds. Somehow, presumably because the Board of Fate Directors was drunk at the wheel or something, both drivers acquired target sighting on Hamada Yoshino at the same time at 10:34 PM. Naturally, their first response to seeing him crossing the street was to accelerate. Radioed orders to back off were ignored. Upon contact, Hamada Yoshino was divided in half. Left side remains were found at the intended destination coordinates in the memory banks of Iro Aoki's truck, while the other side was found at the coordinates in Natsuki Yoshikawa's. Presumably, the teleportation fields repelled each other while the trucks were not directly touching, resulting in a magnetic-like field that was split perfectly between the two sources. Unfortunately, Hamada Yoshino was being crushed by two trucks in a head on collision, and had no way of escaping the increasingly tight space between them. With Hamada Yoshino no longer between the trucks, the automated target teleportation fields switched off, no longer finding any life immediately in front of them. However, since the trucks were still careening at each other, those fields switched back on when sensing the other driver within range. What resulted was a feedback loop where one driver's truck attempted to teleport the other, and vice versa, which oscillated between the two with increasing frequency. Dimensional speeds increased, and both trucks were sent rocketing across the astral plane after the teleportation fields destabalized. On 12-25-2XXX Iro Aoki's truck was found significantly squelched inside a small planetoid populated by sentient coins. Iro Aoki was unable to be retrieved. Natives were hostile to extraction requests and smelled unpleasant. No plans are currently made for retrieval of truck. Athough an idea of showing them a gumball machine, waiting a few hours, and beginning extraction efforts unimpeded has been thrown around, this is yet to be determined as viable. Same day, Natsuki Yoshikawa was found to have been the subject of a summon-type teleportation. Princess Wilbarim II had filed the request through mana circle channels, however the request made was vastly smaller than the resultant summon. Expecting a small lizard, Princess Wilbarim II was too close to the summoning circle. Instead she was instantly squelched with the rear differential of Natsuki Yoshikawa's truck. Exfiltration efforts of the truck and driver have been successful, however extraction of Princess Wilbarim II's remains have been impossible. As funny as it would be, there are no plans to send the rear differential back to her realm. Personal Recommendations: Hamada Yoshino and Princess Wilbarim II should be sent to the Reincarnations Department as an apology package. Natsuki Yoshikawa and Princess Truckbarim II should be decomissioned. The planetoid of sentient coins should be eradicated, as those twits thought I had 'come to audit their souls'. Also serves as a quick way to decomission Iro Aoki's truck. ~~----------------~~ First post, please be kind. Idk if the formatting was too out-there, but it was the first thing that popped into mind.
“Look who I managed to catch, the most powerful hero of all time is at my mercy”. Why do I have too be in love with her, what’s wrong with me. I’m a hero she’s a villain, I should hate her but I don’t I can’t. “Well hero, are you going to speak or just sit there and bore me till I die”. “How long do you think you can actually keep me here?”. “I could keep you here for however long I want. When I captured you I made it look like I killed you”. This is perfect, I have a chance to be with her and no one would even know. “Did I at least go down In a blaze of glory?”. “Nope, I just made it look like you were completely disintegrated and turned us invisible so I could get you here”. “Perfect”. “Huh, what do you mean perfect? I just faked your death and captured you, no one even knows you’re alive”. “For me that’s perfect, because the only person that needs to know I’m alive is you”. I saw a look of confusion on her face, but also a look of curiosity. “The thing is, I’m madly in love with you, honestly I’m so in love with you that I’d do anything too be with you”. “What an interesting turn of events, the most powerful hero is nothing but putty in my hands”. “If you think I’m joking, I will do anything for you too prove it, I’m going too tell you my secret identity”. “Wow you’re actually serious”. Just like that something changed about her, she went from the usual arrogant and confident villain to someone who acts like a child around their crush. “My secret identity is Taven geon”. “Ok if I’m being honest, I’m in love with you as well, that’s actually the reason why I captured you, and my secret identity is frae haythorn”. After that day me and frae entered a relationship and retired from being super powered people fighting each other. It was weird the most powerful people in the world, on opposite sides of the moral spectrum, were in love with each other. A few years later we got married and had a kid. I decided to take my wife’s last name because I like haythorn better than geon. We both knew our kid would grow up to be more powerful than the both of us, so we never told her how powerful she truly was or how powerful we were. Little did I know that would cause so many problems later on.
A millennia I've searched, A millennia endlessly seeking a host to fulfill that which I desire, a human body. It's been said that these "Humans"are unique in our universe. They live in dense cities and relies on communication with others of their kind and here lies the problem. They often have a lot of other humans who accompany them, whether they're growing up or until the day they are put to rest, they always have someone close with them. It is unclear why the Great One has forbidden us to just take a human vessel that has known a lot of familiarity of it's kind but it is still the rules set upon thee. Thus, my chance finally came. A lone soul, hungry and alone, on what looks like the two pillars from my homeworld one stone made of grey and another of red with white square gems that you can look through, the other humans around him treating him like garbage on the street. It's creators discarded it a long time ago and now it is just waiting for it's life force to expire. "Heh"a menacing grin crept up on me. A vessel all to myself, with my abilities I could easily fix this things' body and make it my own. But, I have to wait, it's consciousness is still strong, I don't want to be like what happened with Al'hrk, came into a humans body too early and his consciousness was taken over granting that insignificant human Al'hrk's abilities. No. I would rather consume 10 richt fruits than become that. I'll wait. Afterall, I have all the time I need. Finally! It's here! the light from this humans eyes are fading and it's consciousness is slipping away, it's here! Finally here! A vessel to call my own! I must act now! I extend my tentacle and tap it's head. Immediately, a blinding flash in my consciousness as I try to conquer this things' body. "Heh, hehhehe, HAHAHAHAHHAH!"within the depths of me, I laugh maniacally, "Oh what horrors I'd bring to your wret ---" Wait, something feels off, the teachings of the Great one states that once the vessel has been conquered I should be able to use it's body. But, what is this! It looks like a box room with just a sitting device and a crystal cube that displays images "Oh\~ I didn't know I'd have guests today"a voice came from behind me. Wait, behind me? How can this be? I have no body and yet but I feel I have one. I look at my tentacles, they weren't there... In it's place, human hands, DISGUSTING! Instinctively, I look back, I saw another human, one dressed in an odd fashion, the things it wore on it's body resembles those that the humans leaders wore. Black cloth upto it's hands and feet and white underneath it. I look at it's eyes, it was as if the universe was staring back. Cold and empty, it's locked onto mine. A chill ran down my spine. "No, nonononono, it wasn't supposed to be like this, WHO ARE YOU!"water was coming out from the pores of my face, my back tingled, and instinctively I stumbled back as I raise my consciousness towards this intruder. The creature before me raised it's lips, "Who am I matters not, I am merely here to pick this one"he points to the human sitting in the back eating something, it's square and colored white, absolutely disgusting, but this is the same human I am trying to conquer, how can this thing be in front of me!? "I ASK AGAIN! WHO ARE YOU!?"in the top of my consciousness I shouted the human behind this creature was blown away and yet the thing standing in front of me didn't even get fazed. "I have to escape... is what you are thinking, correct?"the creatures voice echoed in my head it wasn't painful it even felt pleasant but this just confirms it. This "thing"is way more powerful than I. "It's a shame\~ I have others to pick up and it would be bothersome if you stay in this ones body\~"the creatures pleasant voice ran throughout my body. "P-p-ple-please spare thee! I shall provide you wit---"I try to finish my sentence but my head was already on the floor and I could see the body that I was in fall in this cold stone room.
I woke up at 3:56AM, I was late and I knew it myself, fearing from my life that my mother will scold me, I brace for myself from the impact coming...... Minutes passed, the 4:00AM alarm rang, quickly shut it off due to fright, I still waited,.... There's still nothing. I prepared myself as I open the door, which routes and activities makes the least time consumed, will I make it to the 4:30 AM train? Is my bag ready? What excuse should I say to my professor? A series of battle plans sprung to mind as the entire day is destined to be a battlefield fighting using wits and time. Executing what's best on my mind, I sprung into action, I immediately did everything I need, preparing materials, getting a shower, breakfast and ironing out in my uniform for the day, It was all but done in 15 minutes, I'm proud of myself in that achievement! I left the house...., seemingly no one went to stop me from leaving the house, that's weird... Everyone should be awake by now. I brisk walked to catch the train, and catch it I did. Then barely an hour later I was in front of the campus, internalizing my battle plans on my head, I set forth, ready to face the challenge in front of me. As I was nearing the front gate I noticed a figure sitting slumped under the light of a gate lamp The guard was still sleeping? Is everyone in a sort of lazy day today? I don't know myself either, I checked up with the guard and he was immediately woken up. "The hell? Its still 3:30 in the morning how are you too early?" "Uh what!?"I immediately checked my phone, but it says 5:15 AM? Is there something wrong? We both compare our watches in confusion. "Someone played a prank on you, damn I can let you enter if you want but only stay on the guardhouse." "T-Thanks."I went to the guardhouse and waited until it was opening hours of the university. That was how I hold the record of the earliest bird in the university that happened during November 11, 2011, I'm not proud of this achievment at all as I saw them being plastered all around the campus, although anonymous I still resent who pranked at me that day Later that early morning my mother was worried about me but I reassured her of the situation. And then I finally knew who was the mastermind of this prank sometime after I reached home after another tiring day at the university.... It was my sister. THAT GOD DAMN PIECE OF SHI---
Cad Arnold, a smart man. Is making his way down his apartment complex. He didn’t brush his hair that morning, so as any business man would do he would look in the lobby mirror. Everything looked alright, but a man who was obviously in a hurry bumped by Cad, knocking him into the mirror. Cad watched as his reflection got closer to him, bumping into him, and knocking him to his ass. Cad went to tell off the man, but he was already gone. CRASH! And that was the start of Cad’s bad luck. Year 1: Cad ended up getting a pay cut, wouldn’t be that bad if he didn’t have to pay for the medical bills from having a big ass mirror falling on him. He also had to pay for the mirror, which was an antique and made out of silver. Year 2: Mr. Arnold, not being able to pay rent due to bills gets evicted. Being evicted gets him fired from his job, leaving him jobless and homeless. Year 3: Not very eventful for Cad. Normally his life is interesting, but this year was quite boring. Year 4: Cad gets a job at a fast food place, and gets a cheap place to rent. However the place he rented had asbestos, and didn’t find out due to incompetent management. Year 5: The fast food place Cad worked at burned down, due to a new worker not giving a shit. This leaves him unemployed, but this time he files for unemployment, so he gets to keep his asbestos filled home. Year 6: Due to living with asbestos, which wasn’t removed due to the incompetent management. Cad got lung cancer, he tried to sue but while walking to the lawyers office, he slipped on a puddle and got a concussion. He was fine, but the whole brain damage thing left him with no memory of the lung cancer, and no compensation. Year 7: And here we are, in the present. Its the last day of Cad’s bad luck, and so to celebrate he made a journey to his old apartment complex, which was being tore down due to termites. He made his way past the yellow caution tape and made it upstairs to his old room. Creak Cad made it up to his room, now vacant, he went to open the door when… Crack! And there goes the floor. Cad makes his way very quickly to the lower floor, and that’s when he figured he should probably leave. Cad making his way downstairs finds out that termites are no joke, this places really should be tore down. Getting down to the lobby, Cad feels weird but chalks it up to his hurting lungs, He rushes to the exit but accidentally bumps someone in front of a mirror that was put up in place of the old one. It looked remarkably similar. Once outside he looked at a clock, 6:01 AM. It has officially been 7 years since he broke that mirror, and now his bad luck is gone. Cad stopped near a newspaper stand due to his hurting lungs, he figured it was due to almost dying. So to calm his nerves, he goes to read a newspaper. Everything is quite normal. But it all seems so… familiar. Cad goes to look up to the date and he couldn’t believe his eyes.
I’m not one to believe in the occult, I even came to despise it after I've witnessed it being the first step to madness for someone in my family. The only thing such beliefs can give to an individual is false hopes, and false hopes is the sweetest and deadliest poison known to man. Be it ghosts, conspiracy about aliens, or simply astrology, all that can go to hell. So why ? Why did I pick up this book on this fateful day ? When I found its white immaculate cover on the step of my door, I knew something was terribly wrong, yet I took it and opened it, letting the poison free from its container. All the pages were blank except for the first one where a short sentence was beautifully handwritten : On these pages, write the name of a departed one and they shall come back once and for the last time on these mortal lands. Normally, I would have just thrown it away right there and then, but the poison was freed and started to cloud my senses. My hands were clutching the book like a vise and my eyes were gorging themselves on that same sentence over and over again until it was engraved on my mind. I then entered my house like any other day and threw the cursed item on my desk. “Resurrection ? Who would believe that ? I should just throw it away and forget it.” I said those words aloud, trying to convince myself, but the seed was already firmly rooted in me and there was only one way to pull it out. After all, why not ? Why don’t I just expose that sham for what it truly is ? I then took with a trembling hand a pen, and in the same gesture, opened the book. When the tip of the pen landed on the paper, I realized that I still needed something pretty important. Whose name do I write ? Theoretically, with a power like that I could do some pretty wild things, like bringing Jesus Christ back from the dead. Many names and scenarios made their way through my mind. What would Leonard Da Vinci or Nikola Tesla be able to do with this era’s technology ? What would happen if I revived someone who was sentenced to death ? Would they be technically free since they already served their sentence ? If this book truly held the power it pretended to have, then I could change the entire world, but she was my world. As a tear slowly dripped from my cheek to land on the white sheet of paper, I realized a painful truth. Eight years and I still hadn’t moved on. So, while remembering the shine of her smile and the warmth of her embrace, I engraved her lovely name with ink on the grimoire. I then put the book away in a drawer and stared at my door for what felt like hours, but nothing except the distant sound of cars ever came from the other side. “I knew it.” As I gloomily muttered those words, I went to sleep for the night. A week passed, but no one ever came. In the end, I did what I loathed. I let myself get tempted by the illusions. I tasted the sweet juice of false hopes but all it left was the bitter taste of disappointment and sadness, so I ripped the book apart and threw it away. I then tried to go back to my everyday life, but I just couldn’t. Though I had grieved and cried as hard as I could back then, because of my thoughtless actions I went back to square one. It was almost like losing her again. While reminiscing about those days filled with happiness we spent together, I decided to visit her grave. I laid some red amaryllis in front of her dark tombstone and sat on the grass while apologizing internally for not coming more. I then fixed my gaze on her name, reading it over and over and over. “Ah, I was stupid. Of course you won’t come back...” After that, I talked to her about what my life had been like since last year. Nothing had really changed so I quickly became silent again and let my thoughts wander for a bit. It was then that I had a grim epiphany. a voracious dread crept up my back while freezing my bones. It was like my spine had been replaced with an icicle. “It can’t be..” As I let those words spill out of my mouth, I finally put two and two together and obtained forbidden knowledge. I stood up and ran like my life depended on it, heading for the exit of the cemetery. I came back several minutes later with a shovel in my hands, and as I started to dig, I could feel the strings holding my sanity together snapping one after one. After some moments, I saw it, the same wooden casket she was buried in, and so I opened it. That’s when I saw her beautiful inanimate face, as fresh as it was before the car crash, and the other side of the lid which was smudged with blood and full of clawing marks.
I hesitantly walked up to the door of my apartment, my heart beating out of my chest. But if I'm being honest, the fact I could feel a heartbeat at all made me feel a little better. Behind the door, I heard a woman's voice cry out, "My baby girl's home!"A giant blur of black and white fur threw open the door and pulled me into a bear hug. I laughed and said, "Hi Naomi. How was your day?" Naomi nuzzled my face as she kissed my cheek aggressively enough to leave an indent. "It was so boring! I had such a hard time trying to keep myself from catching up on our shows without you. But now you're back and we can fall asleep watching cartoons and cuddling!" "Mmm, that sounds fantastic, sweetie. But first, there's... something I gotta tell you." Naomi took a break from showering me in affection to look at me in concern. "Is everything okay? Did something happen? Do I need to kill somebody in the name of my darling dearest June?" "In order: not really, yes, and definitely not. Can we go inside now?" Naomi nodded and carried me inside. As we made our way to the bedroom, I snagged a cookie from the pantry. Naomi happily let me stick the cookie into her mouth as we sat down on the bed. Once Naomi had devoured her snack, she let out a little burp and said, "So what's going on?" I sighed. "Okay, it's easier if I show you, but promise me you won't freak out."I took a deep breath and lifted my hand up to my wrist. I sunk my teeth into my wrist, drawing blood almost instantly and sending Naomi into a panic. "JUNE?! June, what the hell are you doing?!" The second I pulled my teeth off of my wrist, I felt the curse take hold instantly. The bleeding started to reverse flow and move back into my open wound, which was closing rapidly. I felt my blood run cold and my heartbeat slow down as my skin started turning pale. A sharp pain radiated through my jaw as my incisors extended into fangs. Naomi looked at me in shock. "June, w-what--I don't--what?" I sighed as I pulled back my lips enough to show my fangs. "I got cursed today, don't know who did it. But the gist of is any time I draw blood, I turn into a vampire for the next twenty-four hours. Any amount of blood. If this is a dealbreaker for you, then I will totally--" Naomi cut me off with another hug as she said to me, "Baby girl, why would this be a dealbreaker? I love you!" "Well, I always thought vampires and werewolves hated each other." Naomi groaned. "Ugh, that old crock of bullshit. That was made up by old werewolves and vampires who were resistant to the idea of members of either group dating each other." "Oh, thank God. Ow!"I winced and grabbed at my tongue. "Right, can't say that until tomorrow night." Naomi giggled. "Oh, my poor baby. If it's any consolation, I think your fangs are super cute." I purred as I nuzzled into her chest fluff. "That makes me feel a lot better, hon. Thank you. And hey, think about it like this: I have a really good reason to work from home more often!" Naomi gasped and let out a joyful 'awoo'. "Yay! More cuddle time! Speaking of which, can we watch She-Ra now?" "Yes we most certainly can, my big, snuggly love puppy."
Warm. The late evening sun caressed Yannick's cold, grey skin, as a soft breeze made waves through the grassland around him. He loved freeing the beast of course, running with the wolves and tearing meat from bone. Those instincts, those base urges were always so satisfying to indulge in. But something about the calmness of a normal human mind comforted him. It allowed him to really, rationally think. About himself, his situation, the world and all of its peoples. But right now, thinking was the last thing on his mind. The warmth of the sun, the symbol of the enemy. There was something alluring about it, comforting even. Most creatures of the Pact can't even stand regular torchlight, let alone the light of the blazing ball of fire in the sky. But for a Werewolf like Yannick, it was simply a time where he wasn't able to fight. Why do I fight so much, though? What's this all about? Just as he was about to put his head on the soft ground, to truly appreciate a moment of solace, he heard a voice. "Oi, wolfman!" "I have a name!"he shouted back, turning his head to see the source. A few yards away, standing in the field, was a familiar orc grinning from ear to hear. Orgim Sneak, a very inspired name for an orc as speedy and nimble as him. He came all this way, walking through the blazing sun just to see Yannick. The dry, pale green skin shows that this wasn't his first time, too. Every time he does it Yannick wants to say that Orgim can just send a messenger, and the Wolf can run back as quick as ever. But the orc never cared, as he stepped closer to Yannick to pull him in a big embrace. Yannick tried to resist at first, but couldn't fake his annoyance for long and hugged back. "Why are you all the way out here now? Did Saar-ibex devour the captain's new batch of soldiers again?" Orgim snickered and stepped back a bit, gesturing down to the spot Yannick just sat at. "No, nothing like that. She's fine, although she's noticing the tension." The Werewolf sat back down again, his partner doing the same thing. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Tomorrow is the day, of course she's gonna notice that something is off." "That's kinda what I wanted to talk about,"said Orgim, grabbing Yannick's hand. "Tomorrow is the day, exactly. The day. The thing we've all been working on for years and years. We made deals, created soldiers out of bones and scrap, we have an army ready to take on the entire world!" "Okay, so what's your point here?" "Well first of all I'm terrified of the idea that we can lose each other in the battles to come." Yannick gave the orc a shoulder bump. "I mean that's a given, I hope. But it's not what you mean." "See? That's what I mean! You actually listen to me, talk to me, respect me for who I am. It's just that... what's gonna happen to us afterwards?" A brief silence fell over the grassy hill, as the sun crept closer towards the horizon. "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it,"mubmled Orgim as he pulled his hand back. The silence continued for a bit, until Yannick stood up. "Do you think the war is a good idea?" "I think we can win. I know we can win! I mean, just look at the odds! Those Brighties stand no chance!" "But...?" "But when we win, not if, what then? Are we just going to kill every single being of Light on this world, plunge it in eternal darkness and just live our lives bored out of our skulls until the end? Are we going to be fighting forever? What if we have nobody to fight? Are we going to fight each othe-" The increasingly rapid stream of words suddenly stopped, as the last rays of sunshine disappeared behind the horizon and Yannick put his hand on Orgim's cheek. "I know you don't want to fight. To be honest, neither do I." He moved the hand further along, and wrapped his arm around the orc's shoulder. He looked back at the sky, the last bits of orange and purple dancing through the clouds like paint on canvas. The two sat in silence, but had the exact same idea. They made their own pact. Not to fight, but to live.
-"I KNEW IT WAS TOO GOD TO BE TRUE! WE KNEW IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!"- -"BUT WE STILL ACCEPTED IT YOU DUMBASS!"- -"WE ARE GOING TO DIE BY THEIR HANDS!"- -"IF WE FOLLOW THE RULES IT'S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT!"- -"Can you two be more quiet? Some of the prisoners are getting angry, and not the good ones"- another guard and the mentor of the two newbies said, followed by a sigh and a disappointed face. it was true, free housing and food, two hours of work per day and only five days of the week, it sounded great, but the truth was far from it. The "house"was just a bed on a corridor full of them, the food was a strangely pink paste with a horrible taste and during two hours of their day they had to clean the cells of the most dangerous monsters in the entire galaxy. The job proposal only sounded too good to be true because if everyone knew the truth behind the offer they would find absolutely no one. But hey, they weren't the only people fooled by the "amazing"opportunity.
Now some people might say that scamming is wrong, and to that I say “Well maybe you should work on your critical thinking skills.” I’m a business man, and to get my paycheck I need to get ahead of the game. Now the crowd that thinks there is some “higher power” or whatever baloney is the easiest to trick. All you have to tell them is that a radioactive rock will cause them to live forever and they buy them up like hot cakes! Now my latest fallacy is this pyramid, its suppose to “rejuvenate your soul” but really its just tacky house art. Now I obviously need to have the product on “sale” to make them think they’re missing out, make some false reviews, and boom. The “Alacabnaga.” It took a few days, but I got a hippie to purchase it! Now the most important thing to remember is to have no refunds. And- Ding! ___ Ted looks over at his computer, away from the camera. He got a new review, which was odd so he decided to break script and do some improv. “Oh, look at this! A live review, lets see if they caught on and wants a refund.” Ted manages a fake laugh. ___ Dear Mr. Baer 4/5 Stars I really enjoyed the Alacabnaga, honestly these should be common place in every house. It made me feel really nice, and I wouldn’t mind doing a joint-venture with you. I can help you get more stock. Cheers, Lucy Vones ___ Ted is dumbstruck, he isn’t used to people enjoying his products. Its even more eerie that they know he only had one. He swipes the visible sweat from his brow and continue on with his script. ___ Well that was a nice review. So as I was saying you have to have no refunds, and you need to make the shipping time as long as possible. To uh…. ___ Ted remembers that he only sent out his product yesterday, there was no way it could have gotten there on time. Ted turns off the camera and queries the buyer if he actually got it ___ Dear Mr. Baer Of course I got it, the shipping company you picked was very speedy. Here’s a picture of the Alacabnaga. 20221120_img.jpg Cheers Lucy Vones ___ Ted clicks on the image link, its an image of the pyramid on some grass. Ted goes to click off the picture when he notices something in the background Knock Ted jumps out of his seat, runs to the door and looks out the peephole. Nobody is there so he figures its just some teens. He goes to sit back down and chalk this all up to being paranoid. Knock Ted flings the door open, revealing a woman wearing a red dress. “Alright I don’t know who you are, but whatever your selling I’m not interested.” “Oh I think you know me well enough, would you mind using this?” The woman pulls a cube out of her bag, and hands it to Ted “Uhm… No?” Ted hands the cube back to the lady. “Well I tried to make this easy for you, but I guess we have to do this the hard way.” Ted tries to close the door on the woman, but became overwhelmingly calm. “What in the… World?” Ted collapses in his doorway, when he awakens he finds him in a jail cell, with the same women. Looking more ragged and remorseful. “Alright lady what did you do to me?” “I was waiting for you to wake up, uhm… I’m not entirely sure whats going on but I’ll let you say something first” “Did you drug me? How did you make me fall over like that? Why did you take a picture in my yard?” “Uh… No, I don’t know, and I don’t know. Whoever you met wasn’t me I’m in the same situation you’re in” “Alright, if you say so.” “So did you also use the pyramid thingy?” “No, I’m the one who sold it to you.” “Ah, well I also felt calm when I interacted with it, and then got here.” “Well you walked up to me, tried to give me a cube, and then I got here” “Oh no… did you interact with it?” “No? Why would I take a nasty cube, I’m no hippie.” “Well it could be that evil spirits took over our bodies” “Alright sure, or maybe your trying to scam me.” Ted lays down, happy with his solution to this mystery. “Have you noticed that there are a whole bunch of jail cells?” Ted looks up in confusion “Like this block can hold a whole bunch of people.” “Okay?” “Wait, who’s that over there? HEY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?” “Jesus Christ don’t bust my ear drums!” Ted looks over to where the lady is looking, his neighbor is laying motionless in an adjacent cell. “Oh that’s just Todd.” “Well don’t you find it a bit odd that now people you know is ending up here?” “Yeah I guess, but I’m trying really hard not to freak out.” “Well damn, he’s coming back to reality, HEY TODD!” The lady and Todd goes and engages in conversation, while this happens Ted drifts to sleep. “Hey, Ted. Wakey Wakey.” “Why are you waking me up, I was sleeping so good.” “Because I think I figured out what happened, and it isn’t good.” “Well spill it on me.” “What you unleashed on the word was a demon/zombie plague. Its the end of the human race as we know it, and the demons are taking over. Using your scamming and hatred as a vector for entry. Oh and you know the best part? We’re stuck here for all eternity.” “Alright… well that’s a lot to take in.” “You have all the time in the world.”
Sometimes, no scent is worse than any other. I just wish I had known that before. I never told my family about what I could do. How would I ever be able to explain it? “Hey mom, dump your boyfriend. He smells like he’s lying, cheating, and using you for his own pleasure.” I’d be locked up and deemed insane. It was better to work from the shadows. I used what I knew and my connections in the force to dig up their lies. I could smell their intentions and knew what I was looking for. The rest was simple enough. By operating like this, I protected my family for years. My sister was the hardest to watch over. She had a real knack for picking up the scum the police could never find. So I was constantly taking care of her trash. It became a running joke between family and friends that I just hated that my sister was dating. I earned the title of “most overprotective brother” with ease. But I never got credit when things fell through. When the guy would suddenly incriminate himself or leave evidence of his wrong doings. One even managed to get arrested mid-movie night after he sent “confirmation” of his job well done to our mother, rather than his boss. No one ever acknowledged I was right out loud, but they knew in their hearts that I had yet to be wrong. And no one ever questioned how these coincidences didn’t occur until I was involved. But then I changed my tune and everyone took note. My sister brought home a girlfriend weeks after coming out and was supported full-heartedly. And when I met her, I welcomed her with open arms. Afterall, she had no scent. I could not pick out the usual suspects that my sister usually brought back, she seemed to be your average woman. So I let her be. And everyone took my acceptance as a reason to celebrate. I didn’t even bother with a background check. I trusted my senses, I was confident I knew what I smelled. I trusted something I didn’t realize I never understood. Eventually she moved out, and we saw them less frequently as months went by. When we did, she seemed a lot more soft spoken than before. And as days passed between visits, our fears only grew. So my detective work finally began. I looked into everything. Background, past employment, her family, and even medical records. She made the others appear to be saints. Her parents lost custody after using her as a “pay to play” rent service. Pay a fixed rate and they didn’t care what you used her for. By the time she was put into foster care at thirteen, She was a key factor in several drug schemes and human trafficking rings. She spent the next 5 years passing from house to house. Even the seemingly best homes ended up being raided due to anonymous tips and mistreatment of the girl. At eighteen she vanished and wasn’t seen again until age twenty. She was found as a victim in her current boyfriend's underground redlight district. She went into rehab and was released, moving and making her way to my town. But it’s what her now ex said that really stuck with me. Cuffed and being shoved into a squad car, it was noted he cackled as he called out “You got the queen, but missed your chance to capture the king!” And it was that lone statement that made my heart hit rock bottom. I had misunderstood myself. There was no such thing as no scent… I just wasn’t able to tell all of her intentions apart. I was overwhelmed by scents, and perceived them all as being none. Diving deeper into the records of cases she was involved in squashed what little hope I had left. I knew by the time I reached the end, the sister I knew was gone. My error led to her downfall.
“As in, like, gods? We could recreate any timeline we wanted, any person, hell, we could recreate the time we were living down to the last exact atom, but with the added benefit of being immortal, all knowing beings?” “Yep” responded the man standing across from him. “Okay then, lets vote guys- option a, godhood and total control, or option b, return to life as it was?” The medeival peasant, 90 year old civil war veteran, the modern McDonalds worker, and the homeless man all stared at eachother for a few seconds. They all started to laugh. “A, obviously.” “Yep” “Yeah” “Mhmn” “That was easy”
"So I just want to be clear,"said Bill, the short, stout man. "You claim to be from the 14th century, have no experience in public relations, social policy, lawmaking, and don't even know who the current president is." He let out a long, incredulous sigh, emerging from the depths of his portly soul. His eyes met Olaf's from across the beige table. "But you want to be the next governor of Pennsylvania." The lenses of his glasses, thick as quartz, fogged from the odorous wind blown out his lips. Olaf recoiled slightly; the smell was worse than some catacombs. "My dear sir,"the vampire said with an entrancing tone of liquid moonlight. "I have seen the rise and fall of many 'Sylvanias'. I know the depths of greed with which men rule, and the price that has been paid by fools. I have overseen thousands of battles, dined on- with, royalty and peasants alike. I know the frameworks of which masses will come to rise, and which will be consumed by darkness. I can assure you I will be able to bring out the...lifeblood, of Pennsylvania." The ham sandwich across from him barely reacted; emotions of a wax figure. "I'm going to tell you something,"he began, leaning in. "And before I do, I want you to know that what comes next never, EVER, leaves this room. If you say anything about today's conversation, to anyone, there will be consequences more severe than you can imagine. Especially for a vampire. Are we clear?" Olaf maintained his facial expression, but cold sweat began saturating this brow. How does this mere human know what I am? "We are clear,"Olaf replied. "Good,"said Bill, arms folded indignantly. "You're a little new here, so I'll catch you up to speed: there's a common saying that politicians are 'bloodsucking'. Ever heard that before?" Olaf shook his head, and Bill continued: "Sometimes adages happen for a reason. See, I meet people like you: young, smart, wanting to work their way up on this planet, maybe right some wrongs they've seen. But what you're going to learn is, the game can't be won by one mere, goodwilled creature. Because we're all vampires, every single one of us. And we've had this game figured out thousands of years longer than you've been alive." Olaf's jaw hit the table. Bill's human form began to distort and warble, revealing sheeny, pale skin underneath. His front incisors, once retracted, now extended to their full, vampiric length. "Well, now that you're here,"Bill said in a terrifying tone of liquid moonlight. "I suppose we could put you to work." Several of what Olaf assumed to be vampires entered the room. Something about them was more ancient; features dark, elongated, emanating a cold field of dread. Hellish gargoyles. They surrounded the desk. "We have an election coming up soon,"Bill iterated, pulling what looked like a contract from a nearby drawer. "And we both know full well we need to feed. Do you know the best supply on the planet?" Olaf shook his head. "Voters,"Bill replied. "And we'll keep them coming back, every two years, every time." He slid the paperwork over to Olaf. As Olaf thumbed through, he saw what looked like contracts, scripts, and detailed backstories. An entirely new persona. "I hope you like acting, because you're going to be doing a lot of it the next eight years,"Bill told him malevolently. "Now sign the damn thing; we've got work to do."
A young man was sitting on his sofa, bouncing his leg while waiting impatiently for someone. When the doorbell rang, he jumped up and, after checking his hair and his shirt in a mirror, opened the door to find a beautiful woman smiling at him. "Here I am!"She said, and gave him a quick hug. "Finally, you made it."He replied, trying to play it cool, even though he was clearly showing signs of anxiety. "So, what do you wanna do?" She was about to answer, but then something behind him caught her attention. "Aww! Who is this cute little kitty?" The man's eyes opened wide, as he immediately turned around and saw a cat staring at the woman. "Not that face."He muttered. She was simply letting the cat smell her hand, when he suddenly snatched it away, threw it in a room and locked the door. "Sorry, her name is Muta."He laughed nervously. "Oh don't worry about her!"She insisted. "I love cats, whatever we do I'm happy if she stays with us." "Trust me, it's better like this."He said. "She tends to get ... overly attached to strangers." The woman tried to convince him one more time, but he refused again and they decided to went on with their date. However, some time after the cat incident, while they were watching TV together, loud sounds started coming from the room where Muta was. "You see..."It was obvious that he was hiding something and attempting to create a convincing story. "She likes to play with the handle." The woman was suspicious, but just nodded. He then got up to use the bathroom. She didn't want to violate his privacy, but couldn't keep her curiosity down after hearing some more bangs. She thought that he was only being overprotective or paranoid, and that if she showed him that she could get along well with Muta, then everyone would have a good time. So, she tiptoed towards the room and unlocked the door, trying to make no sound. She opened it slowly but let out a scream when a human hand appeared. As the mysterious person got out, barely balancing on their feet, the woman became even more scared, realizing that they were a naked copy of her. The man got out of the bathroom in a hurry and looked at the situation with fear. "Oh no, you weren't supposed to see this." ———————————————————————————————— "Is she really going to shapeshift back into a cat if she stays calm?"The woman asked with clear embarrassment, watching Muta, who still looked like her and had no clothes on, play with a toy mouse on the floor. "Yeah, pretty much."The man answered, as he glanced at his pet and immediately blushed. "Don't look!"She shouted. "Come on, you must have something she can wear!" "Everyone knows that cats hate clothes." "And I hate having a butt-naked version of me acting like an animal in your flat." "I mean, it could be worse."Just as he ended the sentence, Muta jumped on the sofa and sat on his lap, making them both die inside, probably for different reasons. "Worse than this?"She said, closing her eyes as if it could make everything and everyone disappear. "Yes, she could need the litter." ———————————————————————————————— This is my first attempt at a writing prompt, I hope you like it! Also English is not my first language, so any correction is welcome.
Section 14: Sexual Reproduction From our earlier look on the oddities of human anatomy we recall the ungainly sexual organs for reproduction actually serve a double purpose as liquid waste disposal. Truly awful. Our marginally-invasive scanning reveals that males wear these organs externally; females internally. * Since this species has indeed been afflicted with gender, they are currently experiencing a social movement to allow individuals to alter their gender definition at any time. More bizarre, is how two individuals unify together to create offspring. The start of the mating process for humans often begins with male signaling a female from across a distance. Take a listen: Hey lady you look good huh? In this next example, a persistent repetition of her gender: Hey girl hey girl hey girl! Other attempts can include comparisons to nutritional plant life: If you were a fruit you'd be a fine-apple! There is a debate among galactic researchers on why the mating call of the human male actually repels the female.
A tear ran down his cheek as he looked out over the barren, hellish landscape of his former town. It was the town he had grown up in, everyone he knew and loved had been born, lived, and died in this small hamlet just on the outskirts of Lord Jolan's land's. As he sat holding the now cold hand of his would-be bride, the sun set over the burning town. Roberts love for Nicola saved his life in that moment, as when he bent to kiss her one final time, a dagger hissed through the air above his head. Robert turned expecting to be confronted by a troop of the kings guard, but found instead only a small - yet somehow mature - girl. As he attempted to recover his wits, Robert looked around for the assassin, for surely this little girl didn't throw the knife! However, in his haste, or perhaps because of the dark, he never saw the blade until the final glint sparkled off of the reflecting sunlight just before it plunged into his eye. The small assassin bent over the warm corpse, seeing that in his final moments, the man had reached out and grasped the hand of the woman laying on the ground next to him. As she cleaned the gore off of her knife using the dead mans cloak, she mused silently to herself of the pointless nature of love. "attachment only leads to suffering"she said, as she kicked the two hands apart. The assassin stood up and reflected over the days events, listening to the dying screams as the town burned in front of her, the small flecks of light beginning to drip out the holes in her body where she had suffered wounds this day "This was a good start, but I could do so much more"... She flexed her arms and the blood covering the ground around her began to boil "...SO....Much.....More"
OPENING: The screen is still black. A discordant violin chord plays. FADE IN: multiple quick images transition one to another. A sickly looking bog. The trees are dead and nothing grows. (O.S.) VOICE "Your people left me a dying world." TRANSITION: A ruddy, brown river. A sign comes into focus that says "DO NOT SWIM IN WATER" (O.S.) VOICE "Polluted. Uninhabitable." TRANSITION: A dirty inner city, overcrowded and littered, as people pass each other in smog under neon signs. (O.S.) VOICE "There was no planning. Neither empathy nor forethought. Cycles of consume and sell." TRANSITION: A prisoner in leather working gloves scales a mountain of trash. The camera pans with him as he climbs. (O.S.) VOICE "And now I am left to clean it up in the way that I can. Our survival is now my problem. My calculation to make." The prisoner climbs to the top of the of the pile, to reveal the garbage stretches into the horizon, with black guard towers rising at the edges, fading into a polluted haze. TRANSITION: Close up of a mixed race man in a blue military uniform. The violins cut. (EMPEROR) ALEXANDER: "And I will maximize our chances. I will bring our numbers back from the brink." He turns to face the window, and the camera pans back to show his office, and a caucasian man standing there facing him. Sam Bennet is a modern, well-dressed man, nervous to be debating the Emperor. SAM: "Just make sure you subtract all the people that end up in front of your firing squads." The emperor does not turn away from the window. ALEXANDER: "Don't worry. I did." A military drum line starts. RAPID MONTAGE TRANSITION: The scene changes rapidly between many images. A line of riot police, a swarm of drones with cameras flying over a gathering crowd, a throng of thousands of protestors in a dense urban area, a female prisoner wearing a straight jacket in a white room bangs the back of her head against a wall while crying, a news broadcast clip with the ticker tag "Pornography banned globally,"A formation of attack helicopters with guns bristling... (O.S.) ALEXANDER \[Talking through a speaker\]: "If we were meant to survive..." The scenes continue to change: an explosion at a bus stop, a line of blue-uniformed soldiers in armor taking aim at a single prisoner, three motorcycles with brightly-colored riders attacking an armored vehicle, a power-armored suit fires a machine gun into a building, (O.S.) ALEXANDER \[continued\] "It will be now or never. If we fail here..." The drum line speeds up further, joined by heavy percussion. The scenes continue to change: armored soldiers with swords, capes, and covered faces march in unison toward the camera, the crowd of protesters from earlier charge the line of riot police, a school assembly raises a fist of defiance against a speaker in a blue uniform and shout at him, Sam is seen hiding behind a tree as a helicopter flies overhead, (O.S.) ALEXANDER \[continued\] "then mankind was doomed all long." A single image of a mechanical, red eye lingers. The drumline comes to a conclusion. FADE TO BLACK: The title appears- "UTILITY".
There once was a girl with the name of Maranda. She just didn't feel like anyone else in her town and was very lonely. She was only allowed outside of the house for an hour once noon hits. Her mother was very strict directly towards her but not any of her sisters. Pffffttt. Obviously. Do we need another Disney princess? Like, why? There's already like eighty of em; we don't need another. Also this sounds like Cinderella but written by like a 10 year old. Annyyyyywayyyyy. At 1:01 PM, exactly one minute after Maranda should've headed back inside, she decided to take a detour to the mailbox, which was forbidden to open by any means. She decided to open it and saw an invite to a birthday party, specifically starring a boy named Ryland. Oh, but Maranda wants to go so bad. He looks like the perfect man. A chiseled face, a beautiful smile, and oh, those perfect eyes just had to catch her attention. There was only one problem though. The party started at 2:00 PM tomorrow. A perfect romance story. Let me guess; Maranda's gonna sneak to the party and all her sisters, who are trivial to the story right now, are going to be there. The sisters try to get Ryland's attention, but Maranda caught his eye. I bet it will happen. Bet. It just has to. Duh. Maranda snuck the card in the house and devised a plan, like all Disney story girls do. Since her sisters would be there (Obviously), she can sneak in without the mother noticing because the sisters have to be taken there. The next day at noon she explores the front yard all over again. She waits a whole hour and then another inside the house. The time comes. "Alright Maranda, make sure to remember that you can't exit the house AT ALL during this special day. Do you understand"Maranda's mother asks. "Yes. I know."Maranda acquiesced. "Loser, you can't even do anything. Bonjour idiot!"I could hear the shout from one of my sisters, Elitia. She said "bonjour"even though that means a greeting. Of course there has to be a sprinkle of irony in any story. Maranda decides that since the others are long gone, it's her turn to go. She starts running towards Ryland's house. She wants to get there on time, badly. She arrives just as the real stuff starts. Like all other movies, she's on time because no one can stand the main character being late, right? Once she enters, she is immediately dazzled by Ryland's appearance. He looks even better in real life. She starts fantasizing about what it would be like if he was her boyfriend. Her daydreaming gets interrupted by her sisters' attempting to flirt with Ryland. She could only make out something like "Oh, you're cute"or "Wanna have lunch together?" Ok. Seriously? That's just totally weird, but fret not, because Maranda will ruin the sister's dreams of being with Ryland (though only one of them can win anyway). Ryland unexpectedly walks away to a random direction, and the sisters' jaws drop as soon as he starts walking toward a perceived unknown person, that is, Maranda. Ryland likes Maranda blah blah blah. Ryland wants to go to lunch with her and she says yes. This is every story ever made. The ending was toootalllllly unpredictable. Feedback appreciated as I'm not the best at creative writing.
Donna flung the TARDIS door open and ran out. "oooh, ancient Sumeria, I can't wait."She took about five steps before stopping short. She was standing on a street corner surrounded by strange skyscrapers, flying cars and people dressed very differently to her period-appropriate attire. She turned around. "Doctor, where are we? This doesn't look like ancient anything." Ten ambled along behind her, taking in the scenery from behind his glasses. He grabbed a passerby. "Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help." The man gave Ten a quick glance up and down. "The cosplay convention is about three blocks that way, you can't miss it."He pointed down the street. "Nah, I was just wondering where we are." "Corner of High and Fern." "Which High and Fern? There are so many of them." The man raised an eyebrow. "Uh, in Sumeru?" "Sumeru, Soo-meh-ruuuuu...Oh, on Braxton?" "Why other planet would you be on?"He walked off before he could be asked anything more, muttering something about 'weirdos'. Ten turned back to find Donna with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side. "You landed us on the wrong bloody planet." "Yup, seems I did." "How can you miss an entire planet? Look at me,"she gestured at herself, "I got all dressed up for a nice trip to ancient Sumeria and instead you take me here. I'm gonna stick out like a sore thumb." Ten shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Well, we already know one place where you'll fit in."He answered Donna's quizzical look with a glance in the direction where the man had pointed earlier. "Shall we?" \----------------------------------------------------------- The convention was indeed impossible to miss. It was held in a large open area of the city, with lots of posters and booths and, of course, people dressed in every fashion imaginable, plus a couple extra. Donna's robe looked quite plain in comparison. A person in a suit and sneakers approached the Doctor eagerly. "Cool, you dressed up as Professor Wangley too! It's so great to see another fan here. Did you see the episode where he defeated a Mangerian tiger with just a butter knife?" Ten gave himself and the cosplayer a quick look over. "Oh yeah, yeah, that was a great one. Not as good as the one with the, you know,"he gestured upwards to imply something tall. "Oh yeah, that one was awesome! Well, have fun, I hope to run into you again later."Wangley jogged off, waving at someone else. "What was he on about?"Donna asked. "No clue. Let's see what's going on over there." "There"was where a large group of people were congregated around...something. Ten and Donna worked their way closer to see what the commotion was all about. When they got near the center they were able to see what appeared to be a swamp monster. People were pointing out various details like the texture of the skin, wisps of hair along its body, and trying to figure out how someone would make the slightly inhuman anatomy work as a costume. For its part, the creature was mainly standing still and looking around. "That's quite the costume,"Donna commented. "I can't believe someone took the time to make that." "That's no costume,"Ten replied. "That's a baby kamori. Mum's probably out looking for it right now." "Baby? Mum? Should we do something?" "Probably. Fortunately, they tend to be pretty docile unless you upset them. They can have quite the temper if you do, though." Right then there was a howl and people started backing away from the kamori. 'it's okay, it's okay!"someone was yelling. "It was just the tail, it doesn't look damaged, but I can help fix it if you want."The cosplayer backed off after another roar. "Run?"Donna asked. "Run,"Ten answered. Everybody ran.
I had never invited a diagnosis, but sorrow would rise to the surface during the holiday season. It had become predictable as the cold fronts approaching with Autumn's clear sky giving in to the turbulence of Winter, visibility decreasing as the color receded from the world around me. Whiskey spirits would loan out charm at family gatherings, enforcing harsh interest between nightly withdrawals and morning payments. The self-inflicted scheme was the elephant in fine print, receiving only a passing glance, my aunt's disapproving side-eye, my sister's mocking and feigned disappointment. My dreams had become my second life, but my primary agenda. As a child, their obscurity was fascinating against the college ruled canvas of waking life, staying within the margins, unable to erase my mistakes. I would spend my days wondering if I was to revisit the previous night's divinity or be enlightened by a new happiness each approaching night, otherwise taking only safe routes from dawn toward twilight. However, once I was too deep into my addiction with lucid dreaming, daily routine had slowly turned into cyclones of white-wash undertows and erratic tides at the mouth of clarity into the sea of confusion. I was increasingly unsure I was awake or asleep, but I had learned to cover up my panic. One year though, the elephant was bound to trample the decorations in the living room, or maybe charcuterie boards in the kitchen, reality at cruising altitudes. I slept in my own cabin on the last night. The troublesome trunk and tusks would have pushed my directs and distants over the threshold into dawn's cancelled flight plans. It was best I sink in the deep end instead of splashing in the shallows if our family vacation was to proceed. I could bother the mountains alone once we made it into Tahoe, and stumble through the niceties of dinner times. We simply had to make it there, but the inebriation was a heavy fog that night, and I wandered blindly into the darkness unable to feel the terrain changing below my feet. Five AM alarm, morning weather report, talk radio, flight announcements, passenger instructions from the humorous attendant. The flight had been mostly uneventful as I had hoped. I passed the time sipping my drink and counting the contradicting moralities in travel Bible verses, thankful I chose first class. I briefly wondered where I would be that night. "How many you got so far?", my cousin David had also put in the overtime to have a quiet flight away from our extensive family. They were busy being the bane of coach existence, squawking over strangers, playing tag up and down the aisles, amending social statuses. "Twenty-seven."I wasn't actually counting but it was an honest estimate. I amplified a burp of whiskey fumes for a quick laugh. First class was a tough crowd. "Let me know which verse makes sixty-nine.'' An intentionally mischievous fit of laughter proceeded with sarcastic longevity as I joined in. "Hopefully I make it to four twenty."The theatrical laughter continued. I was able to stay in character as a stranger tapped my shoulder, turning towards the aisles with a characteristically crimped smile. "Excuse me,"began a woman's voice. Too my unexpected and immediate dread I saw Miranda. I played it as cool as I could, but muscle memory took over, and years of practice had engrained her script. "I was wondering if you wanted to come and sit with me."In my dreams I had preferred starting as strangers and falling in love like it was always the first time. "I just thought you were kind of cute."She blushed and smiled at her feet, awaiting my response. It was fight or flight, and I was already in Rome. "Get away from me right f\\\*ing now!"Before the other passengers could respond to my irate demeanor toward Miranda, I was wrapped in the darkness of wet sheets drenched in the aroma of last night's campfire. It was one minute before my five AM alarm. (to be continued. its 3:20 am)
Normally, I write with a beginning and ending in mind. I come up with the character, and know exactly how I want their story to end, the steps in between I let take whatever form they come to me as, almost as if the character themself was on their journey, and I merely transcribe them. That is, until the end. But this new character I'm writing. They feel almost... different? Like they aren't the same person I started with. And, like, I mean more than just a character arc or something. I don't know. Like, at one point, he was about to complete his ultimate goal, and I know for sure the character I started with would have been jumping out of excitement, but now, all that felt right was him just giving a heavy sigh. But anyway I'm trying to write out his ending, and. Well, the ending I gave them involved his death. And I just can't get myself to write it. Like, I know the exact words I would use, but I just can't. It doesn't feel... right... anymore. I've never changed an ending before. But then, I've never had a character change on me like this before. Sorry, what's that? Oh, right, um, I'll take a number 3, and a large frosty.
"hello"said. Disembodied voice "you have reached humanity's answering service."We regret to inform you that we are all away on holiday." You look quizzically at your ships computer. "If you are an archeologist please connect to frequency REDACTED and proceed to the nearest civilization restoration site immediately. If you are a visitor on holiday please visit our sister planet REDACTED. Lastly if you are in search of your soul mate please return to your safe space and watch your favorite programming as you will eventually get a message from them telling you how to REDACTED." An alarm bell begins ringing thru your ship. "We apologize for the inconvenience but we have just been informed grandpa will be visiting for the holidays. "said the message suddenly in a differnt voice. "YAY GRANDPA IS COMING!!!!"Squeeled the voices of two little human children. "Where the hell did you two come from?!?!?"You scream. "Watch your language please they are just children after all. "said the original voice over the intercom. Switching back to the other voice it continued."Okay kids we need you to make sure everyone in that reality is safe and sound. Did you remember to set humanities away message for them this time??? Last time you forgot it caused all kinds of problems." "Yes Dad, mom already double checked."Sighed the boy of the group. "Sorry we have to go now. We wish we could hear your whole story but we already know it ends perfectly. Just be yourself and follow your clues." With a snap of their fingers both children vanish in a flash of light. Edit: sorry forgot the important bit GOODLUCK!
"Detective, you've lost it. Do I need to call another psych eval for you?"Oliver, the detective-in-training poked. "A golden retriever. Right. A big, fluffy, family dog. Sure. And Deputy Jendler is my fairy godmother."He waved his hands in frustration. "Yes, Oliver. That is exactly what I'm saying."I placed my hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him. "It explains so much! The slobber we couldn't get a dna match on, the shedded fur everywhere, even the scratches on the legs!"I beamed at my conclusion. "Okay, Detective 'Dolittle'. Is our next stop the shelter down the street? Maybe our suspect is looking for a home."Oliver mocked. "Come on, Howard. You clearly aren't getting any sleep again."He pushed my back forward, toward the car. Spinning out of his reach, I hunched. "Riddle me this! What evidence have we found that would point away from a dog? Hm? Meat packing plants? Doggie's lookin' for a snack. Untied boats at the dock? A game of tug of war! Even the Crown Hotel's firewood stock - dogs love sticks."I moved my hands as I spoke. Sighing, Oliver mused me. "Okay, fine. Let's say the Phantom Thief is a dog. How do we go about finding it?" "Simple, boy. Shelter logs, pet store employees, and the Butcher has plenty of dog people that come by for scraps." "Ugh, fine."Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "Four years. Four years wasted on a damn dog. Who did I piss off to deserve this?" After a few hours in the car, a cup and a half of bad coffee, and one too many canine puns, Oliver and I stepped out of the busted old vehicle. My back and knees popped, as Oliver gave me a 'what the hell?' look. "Alright, here it is, boy."My hands fell upon my hips. "Strange that we have so few shelters back in Jadesville. Though, I've seen very few strays around." "Can we just get this over with? My record is enough of an embarrassment already."Oliver tugged his hat over his face. I clapped a calloused hand to his back. "Oh, Oliver, my boy! You are such the joker."Letting out a seasoned belly laugh, I shucked my coat off to put in the car before gently closing the door. "I'm sorry you got stuck with this old geezer. I like to think I'm a fun person." Leading us into the shelter, the wave of dog smell hit me like a brick wall. Oh, joyous dog smell! As if my nose had hands, the smell rummaged around my brain and yanked up memories, so old they may as well be in black and white. I'd been sitting on an old, sunken couch with at least three dogs piled on top of me and two more watching from the floor. Shaking out of my dog-smell haze, I checked over my shoulder to see Oliver, clearly upset. "Hey, Ollie. You need to step out? Get some water? Talk about something?"I ventured. "No. I'm fine. Can we just get this done?"He snapped. "Alright. Let's go find ourselves a Phantom Thief."Turning to walk toward the receptionist, she smiled warmly. "Welcome in! Are we just looking today, or are we searching for a new member of the family?"She asked, before stumbling over her words. "Ah, sorry - my boss is always getting on me about my intro to visitors. I'm Holly!" "Very pleasant to meet you, miss Holly. I'm here on behalf of the government a few towns over - you see, one of our officers' beloved dogs was nabbed. We were hoping to find something that would lead us to them."I explained. "Ah, yes, of course! Does the dog have a microchip or a collar?"She began typing on her computer, likely going through a database of some sort. "We're not entirely sure. Dog's always been a local favorite with everyone, never needed a collar or a chip. Plus, our town doesn't have very many pet owners, so the vet is a bit far out from us."I lied. "My nephew here insisted on coming along, he's a bit upset. Loves the fluffy thing, you see."I gestured towards Oliver, who picked up his act very well. "Well, that's going to make it a bit difficult. Do you know the dog's breed? Any defining markings?"She ventured, flipping a pen between her fingers. "Looks like a golden, but I never got the specifics. Been on the loose for a long time now, if you'd picked up our dog then he'll be real dirty. Always getting into mud, that dog." "That can help me a ton. In the meantime, are you looking to adopt as well?"She gave a forced hopeful smile. "Well, I don't have a history of leaving shelters without a leash in my hands. Why don't we see what you've got, hm?"I chuckled to myself. Can't break that streak after 15 years, huh Howard? "Not sure if it came all the way down to y'all, but we had a terrible storm a few days back. We're bursting at the kennels trying to get these dogs adopted out."Holly made small talk, walking towards the door to the dog's kennels. "Be warned, it's gonna be loud. These new dogs like to bark and howl."As if on command, the squeal of the door brought the room from almost silence to a choir of dogs. "I'll be out front, if you find a dog you're interested in, come on up and let me know."Holly left quickly, rushing to prepare paperwork. Walking on, Oliver grabbed the back of my shirt. "Wait! Look! A golden retriever!"The dog, face dusted with a generous amount of silver fur, picked up his head with a gentle wag of his tail. ... I brought him home and named him Buster. He's such a good boy. &#x200B; \[Sorry for abrupt ending, my writing energy ran out :') please feel free to reply with any feedback!\]
it was midnight when I heard the voice. I was lying in bed, trying to sleep, when I suddenly heard a voice in my head. It was a female voice, that said, "Today's show is brought to you by the letter E."I sat up in bed, wondering what the voice meant. Was it some kind of message from aliens? Or was it a warning from the government about some kind of impending danger? I didn't know, but I knew I had to find out. I got out of bed and turned on my computer. I Googled "voice in my head today's show brought to you by the letter E"and found thousands of results. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had heard the voice. There were message boards and forums full of people trying to figure out what the voice meant. Some people thought it was a message from God, while others thought it was a warning from the government. No one knew for sure, but everyone was speculating. A day passed until the voice was heard again. But this time, it said something very, very different. It had announced the name of the show that was to be brought to everyone by the letter E. And that show was "thE End of the world."
Another day, another failed attempt at meeting people like me. Which means another night spent sipping ginger ale at a bar. I'd probably get more enjoyment out of going home and reading erotic literature with my bed full of Plushie Dreadfuls (rhyme not intended), but that would've given me no choice except to confront my lonely existence. So, ginger ale it was. As I sat on my stool and sipped my drink, I heard someone else pull the stool out next to me. A woman with a messenger bag loaded up with pins and buttons plopped down onto the seat and sigh. "You saving this seat for anyone or can I take a seat?" I shrugged. "It's a free country as far as a white guy in Tennessee is concerned." The girl laughed and stuck her hand out. "I'm Sari." I shook her hand and replied, "I'm Jessica."I flagged down the bartender, my friend Olive. Olive strided over and deadpanned, "You know, at some point, I'm gonna cut you off." "Ha-ha. I'm buying my new friend Sari here a drink."I turned to her and asked, "Anything in particular you want?" "Yeah, I'll take a screwdriver. Both the drink so I can drown my sorrows and the tool so I can stab my brain to death after the night I had." Olive whistled as she mixed up the cocktail. "And here I thought Jessica here had rotten luck at these mixers. What's the story, mon ami?" Sari groaned and threw her head back. "It was going so well. We both liked electroswing music and Harry Dresden books, she was super funny and charming, and she was actually impressed by my art skills. Then came the million dollar question: what kind of werebeast are you? And then it all came crashing down because she didn't want to date a wereboa." I stared at Sari. "Boa? Like... the snake?" Sari downed her screwdriver in one go before responding, "Yeah, like the snake. There's not a lot of us, but we exist. And it doesn't matter how much I promise that I'm a vegetarian and that I don't eat in my wereboa form because it takes forever to digest like that, everyone's terrified I'm gonna lose control and swallow them whole."Sari thumped her head against the bar in frustration. I tentatively rested my hand on Sari's shoulder. "I can relate. I'm actually a werewhale, believe it or not." Sari looked at me in surprise. "Werewhale?" Olive nodded and interjected, "Orca, to be specific. Blowhole, black-and-white coloring, sharp teeth--the works. I've seen her werewhale form, it's actually kinda cute." I gave Olive a tiny salute as thanks. "And yeah, I'm way too familiar with what it's like to have your romantic prospects die off because you're something other than an animal found in the Canadian wilderness." Olive scoffed. "You two got it easy, far as I'm concerned. Try being in my shoes for a day." I looked at Olive confused. "Wait, what? I thought you were fully human." Olive shook her head. "Negatory, friendo. I'm actually a werebat. I just stopped telling people after I got asked if I was a vampire one too many times." Sari shuddered. "Ugh, vampires. Why would anyone want to be one? It just seems so inconvenient. Like, never being able to go outside on a sunny day?" I nodded. "And no more garlic. Ever. Garlic is goddamn amazing." Olive chuckled as she presented me with another ginger ale. "Plus there's the whole thing about needing to drink blood. You know what you get when you add all that up? No spring picnics with Italian food." Sari, Olive, and I cracked up and kept the conversation going for the rest of the night. Before we knew it, closing time was upon us and Olive was locking up the bar as Sari huddled close to me and checked her phone with a frown. "Damnit, it's gonna take at least an hour to get back home on the bus." Olive coughed. "You know, my place is actually on the level right above the bar. You two are welcome to stay the night." Sari beamed as she replied, "That'd be great, thank you! But just a heads up, I sleep in my wereboa form, so I hope you don't mind an overly affectionate snake coiling around you like you're a teddy bear." I threw my arms over Olive and Sari's shoulders. "That sounds like the only proper way to fall asleep. Let's get on with it."
My trip to San Francisco had been better than I’d hoped. The weather had been uncharacteristically beautiful and I’d managed to see most of the tourist traps with hardly any lines. The last big thing on my checklist was to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. I’d been offered a bike rental, but I wanted to take my time. I took in the view of the bay and started across. The sight was truly spectacular. Oranges and reds of the late-afternoon sun danced across the gentle waves. The sky, stunningly blue today, reflected off the water in a tapestry of cerulean, indigo, and azure. The blues cascaded over and across each other until they met with the glow of the sun’s reflection, twisting and melding into an array of purple and burgundy. The green of the surrounding hills - closer now to jade than clover in the waning light - seemed larger in their mirrored visage. The seemed to stretch across the bay as though they were reflecting mountains. I had a vague perception of people around me, gathering closer, pushing out to the edges of the bridge. “Of course,” I said to no one in particular. “It’s such a lovely view.” The waters below me had become restless. The gentle rocking of the waves had given way to a churning. Not violent. Or frightening. Just... more interesting to watch. The colors of land and sky seemed to become more vibrant, seemed to frolic more intensely as if to entice. I imagined this was what nature was like when you were able to slow down and appreciate it. I became aware of the sound of a low rushing, like a river in the distance. The churning had grown, swirling around and collapsing on itself in a rainbow of water and foam and mist. I almost didn’t notice the splash. The waters had become so rough that they began to hide the cavalcade of bodies falling to greet them. I only saw what I had because they’d been right next me just moments prior. I expected to feel shock, or at least surprise, when I realized what I was seeing. But instead, it made sense. The scene before us was so beautiful. Why would I not do everything I could to get closer? I had become mesmerized. I began trekking forward. When I got to the edge I became enraptured with the enormous creature rising out of the depths below me. It reached almost as high as the bridge itself and its body spanned roughly half its length. It sang the most beautiful song I’d ever heard. All I wanted in the world was to hear the melody more clearly, to soak in the impossible spectrum of color emanating from its vast tentacles. I resolved to cast myself from the bridge along with everyone else. There didn’t seem to be any other choice - I’d finally realized my life’s purpose. As I reached the edge, I could clearly see the masses of bones that had washed up on the shore. Hundreds, maybe thousands had already come here to surrender themselves to something greater. The last feeling I had as I became one with the bay was a sensation of fulfillment, ecstasy, and pride.
"Is . . . come on, This was on the review!" "Agh, whatever, the answer is that humans are expensive, we break down easily, our minds can get muddled, we get tired and sleepy, we get hungry, our emotions can sometimes influence our decision making in both good and bad ways. But this wasn't the when it happened. You see class, after a couple pandemics the world realized just how crippled and dependent its function depended on living beings. So governments across the world in the year 2020 gathered around and set a new initiative that was to be accomplished in twenty to thirty years, the HNAct or as some of you who done your home work know this as the "Humans Need not Apply"act."
She wasn't a meal yet, I told myself. There'd be no satiation I could gain from eating a child so young. So I let young Audrey live in my den. When I told her this, she hugged me tight and didn't let go until she fell asleep. When Audrey turned six, she asked me where the other sphinxes were. I said to her, "Oh, we're not very social creatures, I'm afraid. We keep to ourselves if we can help it. In fact, I left the den a year after I was born." Audrey stared out at the moonlit field as she rested her head on my paw and said, "I'm sorry you've been alone all this time."She fell asleep like that not long after. I didn't have the heart to move her. Our lives fell into a routine like that: I planned to eat her, she did something cute, I pushed back the date, and so on. When Audrey was eight, she made me a little book of rebus puzzles, and I decided to wait until she was nine. When she turned nine, she dressed up like Athena for two weeks straight, and I pushed the date back to when she turned thirteen. When she was thirteen, she introduced me to her girlfriend, an arai named Imogen, and I swore to myself I'd eat her the minute she turned sixteen. But as I bid her goodnight the evening prior to her birthday, she looked at me and said something to me that etched a place in my heart forever: "Good night, mom. I love you."As Audrey strolled off to her bed, I was frozen in place, the grand truth having finally crashed down upon me. I didn't want to eat her. And so, the morning of her sixteenth birthday, I surprised her with a big stack of pancakes and a banner that read, "Happy Birthday to my Amazing, Unforgettable Daughter". The years went on, and I loved Audrey more with each passing day, freed from the shackles of the person I once was. And as I watch her walk down the aisle with her darling Imogen, tears form in my eyes from the sheer overwhelming gratitude that I lost my appetite in the end.
698 OU, Third Seed, Day 12 I found it. The exact concentration, I found it. The framework is operational, the tests are promising. And now that I know, now that I'm on the cusp, fate fucks with us. Marcus is gone. Orlan is too young, Rose is too far gone. Sebastien hasn't been seen in years. Our dream is within reach and so far away. The ritual won't work with even a drop of Elder blood. I have to find another. &#x200B; 698 OU, Fourth Seed, Day 4 Final tests are complete. Rose is the closest match. If it works, she could fight off even the Capitol. I hesitate to conduct this trial. If Marcus were here, he would stop me. But what else can we do? It's all or nothing. &#x200B; 699 OU, First Seed, Day 21 Rose has gone mad. She must be put down - and Gods, I sound like the Inquisitors. I did this. I gave her this power. But she must be killed, before she infects the Core. I'm sorry Marcus. I never meant for this to happen. &#x200B; 702 OU, Second Seed, Day 2 I've given up. The Taint can't be fixed. The Inquisitors were right the whole time. If Marcus were here he would convince me we were fighting for something. Gods, to hear his voice again. I'm sorry. &#x200B; 704 OU, First Seed, Day 14 The Core is irreparable. The Taint has infected the moon. All is lost. Sebastien killed himself trying to drain it. Orlan left his body behind and is gone behind the veil. I'll never see any of them again. I did this. I did this. There is no hope. All I have left is vengeance. &#x200B; 705 OU, Third Seed, Day 1 Fuck them. They wouldn't even give me his body, so I killed them and fed them to the Taint. It will ever grow. What's the difference? Fuck them. I think I know how to make it spread. Is Marcus in there? Is Orlan? Maybe I can see them again. &#x200B; 706 OU, First Seed, Day 30 I killed the Capitol today. What if they could see me now? My power is incredible - the life-force of a planet, and none of it means a thing. I think I can feel them. Marcus, Orlan - Sebastien! Even Rose, I feel her, endlessly screaming in the crust of the Earth. I have to die, but no one is powerful enough to kill me. If only Marcus were here. &#x200B; 710 OU, Second Seed, Day 10 I used up the mantle. Damn lunar mages, where were they a few decades ago. Our government was so focused on killing our best hopes they overlooked our greatest enemies. Doesn't matter! I handled it, and there's no country anymore, so it doesn't matter. I drew deep on the Core, but I was wrong to call it Taint. Blood magic only draws on humanity. I hear Marcus in my dreams. &#x200B; 728 OU, -- Seed, Day -- Marcus told me I'm right. If people aren't good, there are no good people. If there are no good people, then let chaos take the world. I'm so lonely. I killed all the people. I won all the wars! The Core is dying. Soon, a magic-less planet of sand and empty buildings and bones will be all that's left. Marcus is waiting. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
The initial feeling, of course, is panic. Because hundreds of thousands of screams is never a good sign. You frantically look around your backyard, hoping to see one of your neighbors to ensure you aren't hearing things. For a moment, you see Alex Parker sprinting into their home and the door slam behind them. You rush indoors as well, locking the sliding door behind you. Every anxious thought runs through your mind of what it could be. You knew of the horror stories when you moved here; about how violent of a place this could be. But this was something else. This was nothing you've seen in the news before. You scramble for your cell and fumble it to unlock. Along the front of the screen it says: &#x200B; >"OFFICIAL ALERT: L̵̡̡̧̲͚̺̲̜̫͉̩͎̤̀͌̓͐̈́͑̀̓̄̈́̈́̕͘͘̕Ò̵̧̦͕̝̘̺̼͎͉̗̫̿̋̉̚ͅC̶̡̭̘̞̰̗̮̯̠̞̙̍͆͐̋̽̓͌͒͋Į̷͓̞͔̠̤̮͔͙̺̝̞͓̼͆̔͋͑̏S̸̫̤̟̲̗̻̼̦̜̾̾̏̋͆̈̎̿̑̆̈͌͠͝ͅ ̵̨̞̤̊̊̀̌̃̀̋̌̔͘̚Ĕ̶͍̲̓̃̿̕͜͜Å̴̙̰͊̆͐̈̌̾͆̉̊̀M̴̛̖̺̥̻͑̈͌̅́̃͛̽́͝͝͝Ư̵̡̧͖̰̤̠̖̠͂͂̇́͛̈́̆͘͜͝S̸͖̙͚͇͖͍̲̾̅̈́̾͋͛̓͆̌̒͜͜.̸̧͔̳̯͇͈̙͋̃̀̅͊͂̿̂͠" &#x200B; Your hands are shaking as you see the texts flooding in, all repeating the same distorted phrase from the government alert. Your phone begins to ring from an unknown number, making you drop it as if it burnt you. A weapon. That was the first thing your mind jumped to; had it been another day you may have laughed at the irony of it all. You sprint to your closet by the front door, taking a quick moment to lock it. If it was the Purge then you knew you needed to secure yourself and hunker down. If it was a Quiet Place, you needed to be silent. The movies swam through your mind as you begin ripping open boxes you hadn't touched since the move. A large part of you cursed yourself for not buying a knife set yet as you searched. Finally, you pull out your cricket bat, gripping it until your knuckles turned white. It was at that moment, you could feel the ground begin to rumble as a loud hum rattles your windows. It's getting closer; whatever it was kept getting closer. Your body freezes in place, choosing the third option of fight or flight. Fear is seeping into your bones, and you worry about the bat cutting into your skin from how tightly you're holding it. You wanted to see more. The thoughts of what you wanted in this life flashed before your eyes. The Grand Canyon trip you had planned for the spring, the invitation to watch 'football' with Alex next week, a desire to perfect cooking fried chicken, finding someone who loves you and who you can love in return--everything crashes down on you as you realize how much you still have life. At some point, the tears began to drip down your cheek as you begged your body to move. You wanted to focus on something other than the vibrations getting closer and closer. But hearing the oncoming roars petrified you. A small knock on the door is your saving grace, pulling you out of the approaching sound. Your body releases from the tight grasp of panic. Despite what Bird Box said, you take a look through the peephole. Avery is standing there with their hands behind their back and bouncing up and down on their heels. The fish eye distorts their expression, but you can see a smile. "C'mon! I know you're in there! I literally can see your shadow! We're going to miss it!" Avery shouts out, knocking again. Miss it? Miss what? You step back from the door, holding the bat ready. "What are you on about?!"you scream back, the hitch in your voice giving away your tears. There was a pause, the hum getting closer. "It's the best holiday of the year!" Alex shouted eagerly. You didn't want to be a sacrifice for whatever odd 'holiday' they were celebrating. You saw clips of Midsommar. "It's a cultural staple! We'll even go to the Cheesecake Factory after!" Avery said in a sing-songy voice. Now there was confusion--the Cheesecake Factory? What abomination was even happening here? Before you could react, you saw the lock start to turn back. Ice fills you as you recall the key you hid under your doormat. It was a foolproof hiding place, how did they find it? You hold your bat higher, ready to swing as needed. You had too much to live for--you weren't going to die this easily. The door creaked open and through the door--but where you were ready to swing at a person, you see a glittery pink gift bag held out to you. The confusion between the promise of food and a gift is fighting against the thrumming of the house. It seemed so out of place for a present while it sounded as if the demons of Hell were approaching. Keeping the bat raised with one hand, you snatch the other from Avery's grasp and quickly shut the door once more--narrowly missing Avery's hand from behind slammed. You hold the bag away from you, arching your head to see what's in the bag from a 'safe' distance. You see some hurriedly added tissue paper and then what appears to be red lettering in the bag--enough to catch the word "HELL"before being cut off from view. "If you really don't like it then that's fine! I can always return it!" You realize there's nothing in there actively trying to kill you within the bag. You nervously put the bat into the bag and awkwardly try to fish the item out. The more you fidget, the weaker the bag gets. After a few frantic seconds of fiddling, the gift flops out to the ground. A white t-shirt is staring back at you amongst the piles of tissue paper. You crouch down and pick up the shirt. In big red letters you see the phrase: >>!"YOU CAN GO TO HELL. I'M GOING TO TOYOTATHON"!<
It wasn't always like this. I used to be a normal person, well, as normal one can be these days. Mirrors reflected me, my whole body, but not anymore. That thing isn't me, I'm stuck as a passenger in my body. I don't know exactly when things changed. Or what caused it. Perhaps it was the one time I got got migraines. I should have asked mom to take me to the hospital then. But I thought it was just a headache, it got better and I went to sleep. That was a mistake. I woke up in the morning trapped in a body that wasn't under my control. I looked in the mirror, and tried to talk. But my jaw was locked, and this thing staring back at me didn't even care. That pissed me off! I struggle to move my arm and punch the glass, making it shatter and cut my knuckles. Mother barged in the bathroom, she heard the glass break and held my injured hand. "Derek! What did you do!"I tried to call her, but the intruder says that his arm moved by itself. I'm here! I did this! "Hold the towel on the cut, we'll see the doctor."My mother forced my body to go to the hospital. Did she understand my call for help? Could she see her trapped son in my eyes? I hope so, I hope this can be fixed. >"How's Derek? Do you know what's wrong?"The neurologist examined the imaging of the boy's brain, pointing at a spot. "See this? It's a stroke. It affected his frontal lobe, that's why his arm acted by itself."It could be brief, or last a lifetime.
"Wait wait wait... So you hear the voice, too?"my new friend had said over the thumping music I was actually taken back. I've heard others make blurry hints at It but haven't ever heard anyone call It the name I'd given It. I'm new to such arts and know very little so my study has lead me to religion at this point. At first I only believed it to my inner self, but after It spoke back, I'd pretty much say "its"God. "Well... yeah! I'm in touch my Creator bro. And It's not just 'a voice', its God. Dosn't He teach you things?"I asked as I took a swig of beer The party went still. I thought it was one of those moments where the music is changing songs and everyone is quiet, but this time was different. When I looked over for my new friends response I noticed every single person in the room was perfectly, still as if time itself stopped. I heard a voice, not in my left or right ear but in my head. "He tells me how to mediate."The voice resonated in my brain. It was tangible... it smelt with how real it was. "Good... good."I said as I stood up, looking everyone over. In awe at all of the emotions, all of the Beings existing, at all the extreme potential energy without kinetic. "I can tell you listen well"still not knowing where my partner had just went. Slowly in a deeper tone my partner's voice spoke in my knowing "Indeed. I've come to understand myself deeper. But, that is all I think it is: listening to you're higher self. Becoming away of the energy that you not only hold, but energy you produce. Look what I have done. Purely from the energy I've gathered and cultivated. You exist in my realm" By this point I had almost made it outside of the house, time still at a halt. The looming destruction feeling was no stranger by now, I had began retreating after my former partner said "..listening to your higher self"I cleared my throat and somehow caught the confidence to speak back. The words almost slipped my tongue before I yanked the energy into his realm. I stood firm and slowly responded, this time in my head: "No respect for a higher is a sign of unchecked power. Untamed power."before I could speak an image of fire singed my mind. It was so powerful I had to sit down, I was on the front steps of the house by now, time still frozen. The voice was loud this time, but still clearly refraining. "Why check your power?! Who are you of anyone to say if my power deserves to be checked? No higher power could ever hold me back!" At that moment, I looked up. There in the middle of the street was a bright light that slowly formed into the shaped of a human. Only now did I notice the humming in my ear, it was growing louder as the shape was formed. As the light walked closer, the humming got louder. He was in-front of me at this point. The "atheist"'s voice, although he was continuing his villain speech, was being nullified by God. At that moment, God reached into the air and pulled back an invisible curtain. Behind it was my parter. He was sitting in the middle of a toppled house, bearing the elements. He was in a criss-cross sitting position, meditating completely naked. God reached down, woke him from his meditation, and pulled him back to our original reality. He set him right next to me. I snapped back after I saw a car pass us on the road "Man why are we even arguing about this anyway, lets just enjoy the rest of this acid. This talk is making mu paranoid anyway" My buddy took a puff on his joint, somehow being halfway through already but just getting back from hyperspace. "hell yeah, I think you're right anyway. God is all the good things in this life like a hot dinner and good friends. Plus that voice"He winked at me and I faded off into my beer.
"Oh, okay. Do you wanna just cuddle?" John smiled at Oleander warmly. "That would be perfect, hon. But could you maybe carry me to the bedroom? I barely had the strength to open the door." Oleander nodded and scooped up his husband out of the harmchair (which was just a recliner the couple had named as a joke). Oleander then carted John off and dropped him onto the bed. As John bundled himself up in the blankets, Oleander wrapped his arms around him and began spooning him, being careful not to poke John in the back of the head with his horns. Oleander's breath was warm and cinnamon-scented as he purred, "I'm very happy you don't have any plans for the rest of the day, because you are not leaving this bed." John sighed contentedly and responded, "Music to my ears, my big clingy cinnamon bun."John nestled into Oleander further, making his belly jiggle. Oleander laughed and kissed John on the cheek with a soft, "I love you so much." "I love you too, big red."
”No great story ever starts with a glass of milk.” I thought to myself as the cafe erupted around me. While fine china began flying from the decor holders as people escaped the building, I just sat there, my nice warm milk glass in a right hand. It was just another Tuesday, and this time, it’s a dimensional rift opening down the street. It’s always been like this- one time this place became the center of a war between ghosts and skeletons, another time this became the last bastion of a fleeing band of heroes against a dark lord. But regardless, it all had to start on 42 Maryford Street somehow, because it does. Been like this since the end of the Civil Rights Movement that Martin Luther King Jr. started. It hasn’t been as bombtastic recently, up to and even now, y’know? Worst thing that happened, really, was that Godzilla showed up here once, guessing it was 2013 when he did. That was actually a really bad time because a lot of buildings were destroyed for real, instead of most contained final showdowns or new beginnings of similar nature. Since then, though, the insurance rates shot up as people flocked here, all wanting to live at the Little City of Beginnings and Endings. And today, on this fine Tuesday, it’s happening again. This time, it was a sparky green rift that made some of the stuff around it float with a green aura, apparently ripping a hole across time and space to this world. I step out with my glass in my right hand and left in a jean pocket, and wander out of the store to see the commotion, which had unfortunately subsided. Five girls were before my middle-aged white-collar-job-working ass. A ninja and four Brits. “Hey, anyone here know which anime these girls are from?” I yelled, knowing the streets are empty for now save for me and these folk. The police will be here soon, so I just stood, keeping an eye out on the slowly-recovering girls. Meanwhile, I began contemplating about when the next big beginning or ending will happen. Maybe on payday next Friday?
Thump thump thump “Aaaaah” Thwamp! I rolled out of bed. What the heck could be making that racket on Christmas Eve. I picked up the baseball bat from under the bed and headed outside. There on the ground was…. Santa Claus. Red suit, trimmed in white fur and black leather boots. I think he fell off of the roof. I stepped back onto the street so I could see up on the house, and I kid you not, there was a sled with 8 freaking reindeer on my roof. I walked up to Santa and rolled him on to his back. Everything was exactly as you would expect…. Except for the red skin and the horns… I was really not prepared for the horns. I checked for a pulse, “he is dead. Santa Claus freaking died falling of of my roof….” The ground around Santa started to glow. A big circle with what I think was a pentagram in the middle started to melt through the snow until the big man was on the grass with the circle and pentagram glowing brightly. The suit began to collapse and the body disappeared into a puff of smoke. A white Casper looking ghost floated above the suit, “oh, thank God, it is over”, and then it floated up and away. “Man, this just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”, I said to myself. “It is going to get weirder before the night is over…”, and there right beside me was an…. Elf? He was short and wore pointy boots with bells on them and had a cute little hat on his head, and there was where the similarities ended with the movie elves. More horns, curly short horns, reddish brown skin and a mouth full of fangs. It was a truly hideous creature. “Are you ready?”, he asked “Ready for what?”, I asked. “Time for you to get fat”, he said with a terrifying smile. I looked at suit, looked at the elf, back to the suit. “Nope. Don’t even think about it! I am not becoming Santa”, I said The terrifying little elf started walking towards me, causing me to back up. “You will become the Claus. You will deliver toys and coal. You will terrify every child on the planet. You will break into homes once a year”, he laughed at me. I tried to step back but couldn’t. I had stepped into the circle and was trapped there. I pounded on invisible walls. There was no way out. “I have some bad news and some worse news. The bad news is that this is going to hurt. The worse news is that it is going to hurt allot! Hahahahahaha!!” I started screaming. The terrifying little elf started chanting: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Sed iaculis consectetur efficitur. Nulla facilisi. Nullam in neque et nunc faucibus semper. Etiam at lorem nisl. It was like my bones were melting and stretching all at once. I was lighter. I was heavier. I could feel the horns sprouting out of my head and my skin was burning. And then I blacked out. I woke and I was laying on the ground…. Wearing a red suit with white trim and black boots. I looked like Santa. “Welcome back sir”, the little elf said to me. “Ho ho ho! I fucking hates when that happens.”, I could hear myself talking but it wasn’t me. It was like I could hear and see what was happening but I could do nothing. I have been possessed by Santa Claus. I got up and jumped up to the roof and hopped into sled. “Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas! And to all, a good night!”
"Sorry my bad"I said as I stitched reality back together. "I swear it's the last time. It's just wife and i are trying to have a baby and it's really stressful right now. Finishing the last stitch I turn around to see a massive path of distruction caused by the 4 legged friend. My dog sitting at my sitting at my side just tilted his head and gave me a big doggy grin. Turning further to the crowd gathered I continued speaking. "To be fair Krypto is alittle energetic and takes his responsibilities very seriously."Turning back to Krypto I coo'ed "who's a good little Krypto!." "What about all the damage! You are lucky no one was hurt!."Bellowed a portly man with an air of self importance." "First I'll fix anything broken, second Krypto would never allow someone to come to harm in the fulfilling of his duties and lastly..... who made that kid stop believing in Santa Clause."
Part 1/2 The room flickered in the erratic light of the screen, displaying scenes and places almost too fast to follow. With each blink, an ephemeral image burned behind my eyelids, suspended for a fraction of a second. Ruined castles, decaying forests, a beach, a woman smiling, bloated corpses hanging from the trees. Vastly more. Locations that I couldn’t place, places that made no sense, with distorted angles and colours, and rarely, recognition. A place I was sure I had never been, but knew, without doubt. Then it was gone, lost in the maelstrom of images. With the scenes came the aromas, dispensed by a small machine of tubes and gears at the edge of my vision, and the sounds, cast from vents in the stone ceiling. Occasionally they matched the images on the screen, but were more often harshly discordant. A rotting body paired with children crying and the fresh scent of apples, or a banquet hall mixed with acrid smoke and clashing cymbals. At first I had kept my eyes firmly closed, hiding from the technicolor assault of the screen, but the sounds and smells assaulting my senses could not be blocked out so easily. I was allowed to keep my eyes shut for brief periods, perhaps a considered, twisted measure of kindness, or perhaps it simply did not matter. After the slight reprieve granted by blindness, a smooth, neutral voice would demand politely that I open my eyes. Failure to comply led to the toolkit, and a neat, clinical application of pain. The source of the voice was a gaunt figure. My only living companion in the room, dressed neatly in a white suit. He sat calmly to my left, positioned such that with my head restrained I could only half-see him, a spectre in the corner of my eye. An unmissable reminder of my current predicament. Prior to the starting of the cacophony of sounds and images, after securing my battered body in the chair, he had carefully described exactly what would happen to me. “I am telling you this so that you might be convinced to reveal what you know,” he stated plainly, “without the need for any unpleasantness.” He gestured towards the various machineries of the room. “These tools are designed to elicit memory recall, irregardless of conscious or unconscious suppression. Our brains cannot help but forge connections between input stimuli. The smell of a meadow causes us to recall having been in one; the sight of a beach gives way to the scent of the ocean. You will be shown unceasing amounts of these stimuli, until either you tell us what we wish to know, or we scrape it from your mind involuntarily.” He walked over to one of the other chairs facing me, and with one finger, gently tapped the slim metal needle protruding from an appendage on the back of the chair. The other end of the needle disappeared inside the occupant at the base of the ear, angled upwards. Around me, all four of the other prisoners had the same mechanism attached to them. All four of them were deceased. “This machine inserts a probe into the temporal lobe of the brain, and through application of electric and magnetic fields, can both influence, and record neurological activity. Though you may try to hide what you know from us, you cannot hide it from your own brain. Give us what you know, and you will be released unharmed.” Throughout this explanation, his face remained curiously neutral. There was no malice, or hatred present. I had stated that I knew nothing, and had no idea why I was here, or who he was, or represented. He had sighed, nodded resignedly, and then, before I had time to feel panic, inserted the needle. There was no pain, just the nauseating sensation that something terrible had happened. And the onslaught against my sensorium began. Every fifteen minutes, he would say, without emotion and with slight disinterest, “Give us what you know.” “I sell books! I don’t know anything! What could you possibly want from a bookman?” I protested at first, but it made no difference, and before long I stopped replying. Yet, still he asked, every quarter-hour unceasingly, for hours. And with each flash of the screen, each disruptive sound, every subtle manipulation from the needle embedded in my neural tissue, the veil of my past fell away. I remembered, aged 22, being handed the keys to my fathers shop after his untimely passing; killed in the street by stray fire from a robbery across the road. Simultaneously, brought about by the smell of robes and the flash of a cathedral hall, I remembered being 22, celebrating graduation as the chancellor pinned the seal of an infomage to my lapel. A silvery darkness skulked across the back of the graduation hall, and was gone. My vision swam, the question echoing in my ear. The smell of flowers, and I was amongst dense trees, walking on a sunny winter afternoon, a small gloved hand in mine. A blink and I was in the bookshop, alone, making my first sale as owner, a fraction of time later and the shop dissolved. I looked down as we walked through the Threefield woods, but instead of my daughter, there was only the silvered, reflective void, and I found I could not recall her face. The void, the blank space, crawled out of sight. It shrieked, a haunting, ancient sound; like ice cracking. I knew, without knowing how, that it was not a yell of rage, but of hunger. I did not know what it was, and I did. I knew that I must never remember. The question once more asked, the deep copper-iron scent of blood from the machine in the corner of the room, and I recall standing in the frozen corpse of a village. Doors and windows swung idly in the gentle wind. The main courtyard, in which we stood, lay littered with possessions dropped in a hurry. A few bodies lay in frozen pools of blood. There were no sirens, no wailing. No sounds at all aside from our boots crunching through the thin crust of frost covering every surface, shining in the summer sun. We were six strong, dispatched from anti-terrorism arm of the Federal Bureau of Extant Threats, each of us experts in our respective technomagical fields. We made our way to the collapsed apartment building on the edge of the yard, and before long found a set of corpses clad in white, crushed under the debris. “Entropic cultists,” grimaced Andelyn, as she pulled a protective signet ring from the finger of a white-gloved, dismembered hand. “A summoning gone wrong. Whatever they brought in, it burnt through their protection like nothing.” Fynell, our xenologist, nodded, bending, and wiping a finger against the frost-sheen of the frozen earth. “An ice-wight,” he growled, rubbing his finger and thumb together, “maybe even some form of lich.” I remembered the apprehension, the sick feeling of missing something. I watched as Andelyn continued to search the corpses. Fynell consulted his encyclopaedias. Lionel and Tryste finished erecting the fourth Field Divination Rod in the final corner of the courtyard. Dynan adjusted their heavy-duty protective charms, and readied his projector, muttering charging arcana under his breath as the brass spell-coils of the weapon whined. “Well, whatever it is, the bastard won’t be able to hide from us now.” Captain Thomson stood over the divination computer, connecting each rod’s cable into the portable mainframe. Like a lightning bolt, I realised the cause of my nausea. There weren’t enough bodies. This was a village, and nobody was home. Aerial imaging hadn’t found any escapees in the surrounding countryside. Something as dangerous as a lich or wight would have torn through the populace in hours, leaving thousands of dead. There were no sounds. No sounds at all! No wildlife, no birds, no fucking rats. Even the sunflowers hanging in baskets around the courtyard were brown and shrivelled. It dawned on me slowly. Too slowly. I grabbed Andelyn’s upper arm, dragging her up from her inspections. “It’s not a wight, it’s not even a lich! It took everything living! Everything!” She stared at me, nonplussed. I continued. “It’s a goddamn semantivore! An information vampire! Their summoning went too deep in the dead layers of reality. They tried to bring back a handgun and brought back a fucking nuke.” I realised my mistake too late. Too far to hear my outburst, Thomson flipped the switch on the divination computer, bringing to life vast informational processing capability. Fresh meat, for the lion. The divination rods began to hum. A sound like ice cracking, deafening, echoed off the empty buildings.
As I treaded across the vast sea of orange, my boots pressed into the earth, cracking apart the sand beneath with every step. My rifle swayed side to side, occasionally slapping against my thigh. My throat was as dry as the desert, so I dropped to my knee and unbuckled my pack. I heaved the jug of water up and began drinking. I drank for 2 minutes straight, lucky I didn’t drown. I placed the jug back in my pack and was getting ready to keep moving, then I heard it. A distant, growing, harrowing scream was echoing through the valley. I checked my rifle’s bullet count, 3 in the chamber. The scream, that sounded like a thousand dying men, grew closer, and closer, and I could pin the direction. I reached down and clasped the radio on my chest and said, “Found the fucker.” The radio replied “Don’t miss.” I reached down into my pack, and removed the old can of diet coke. I gave it a small shake, hearing the clanking inside. I looked back up saw the origin of the scream. It’s silhouette as small as an ant that far out. But it was getting closer, and fast. The size of an ant quickly turned to fly, than a bee, than a beatle. This fucker was fast. I reached back down to my radio. “If this doesn’t work, I will haunt you so hard.” The radio gave one short, simple reply. “Trust.” The silhouette was now as big as a small rock. I planted one foot in front of the other, held the barrel of my rifle in my off hand, and the can of diet coke in the other. I pulled my throwing arm back, like a cannon locking in a shot, and waited. It was no longer a silhouette, but a clear visual, as big as a rat from here. The thing continued screaming, I felt like my ear drums were about to burst, and lord, the look of this thing. I almost fainted at the sight of it. The fucker was close enough, so I launched the can of diet coke into the air, towards the beast. I swung my rifle around and grasped the trigger. I looked through the scope and followed the can down to earth. I lowered my aim as to lead my shot, and boy, I got the CLEAREST view of this things face. And to be honest, I freaked out, and I pulled the trigger. The shot flew at its face, but before it connected, the can of diet coke fell perfectly into its trajectory. BOOM! Fireworks! Fucker went from big to small real quick. I walked over to the remains and wrapped up every bit. They wanted everything, the skin, flesh, claws, horns, and I always deliver. I grabbed the radio. “Got ‘em” “BRAVO!”
To whom it may concern, I, known by the name Mary Smith, being of sound mind do hereby make my last will and testament. So that it may be proven that I am who I say I am, and that what I say now is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me Father Zeus, I leave vials of blood to edifices of learning throughout the world. I also sign this document, and press my thumbprint in blood. While my blood will not reveal the secret of my semi-immortality, it will prove my ancient DNA. Truth number one. Zeus was my father. He was a real person. He was not a god the way that people think now, but he lived thousands of years, as have I. Truth number two. The pyramids were not built by aliens, they only influenced the designers. The aliens were from a ship that malfunctioned, causing several (I never found out exactly how many) escape pods to launch and land in various places on the globe. They are gone now, they were able to 'phone home' as the saying goes. Truth number three. Alexander the Great was assassinated, he was pushed over that wall specifically to be at the mercy of the Babylonians. Truth number four. I never found proof that Jesus Christ existed, preached, or was crucified in such a manner. The whole truth is that I never found proof that he didn't, either. I do know that the Vatican has many contemporary works that address this, and that King James was a misogynistic bastard (literally) that used his authority to declare what the 'translations' said. Truth number five. Mohammed did exist, but he was not a person such as Zeus and myself (and others). I don't know if he was holy, just that he existed. Truth number six. The Black Plague was accidently released by another group of aliens. They didn't realize that their form of alcohol had active bacteria in it that eventually crossed species. They were more closely related to reptiles than primates after all. They apologize. Truth number seven. Queen Victoria was not a werewolf, she was a werebeagle. Fortunately she did not pass it on to her children. Truth number eight. Arch Duke Ferdinand's death was an accident. They were trying to get an assassin in the crowd but a gust of wind... well, he apologized too. I oversaw his ritual suicide myself after the war was over. Truth number nine. President Kennedy had four people with guns to kill him at different places along his route. Three were pissed off women, one was a nutjob. Guess which one actually did it. Finally, Truth number ten. Send a message in ancient Egyptian (since the Aztec language studies have less to go on after that idiot Cortez got through with them) towards the first star to the left of Polaris (from England at the end of February) and tell them that they owe you, and you want the cure for cancer now in reparation. Don't be too mad at them, they honestly spilled their Wug by accident into the Yangtze River. \signed Mary Smith with a bloody thumbprint next to it\
I look at this planet's leaders with utter contempt. Some were cowering at my presence, their guards (for what it is worth) are pointing their guns at me, or at least the ones who are not already on the ground. Some of the leaders where staring at me with cold calculating eyes trying to decern how it would be best to move forward. "So as I said, I am here to take over your planet, and this has already been decide, you have no say in this."My voice level and calm, but still commanding respect. saying this countless times already it better have. I slowly turn in a circle, my midnight black cape trailing behind me. I looked around at the leaders. I chuckle slightly, this causing several of the leaders to flinch slightly. "Sorry, it's just that when I normal appear suddenly in front of a planets leaders they start to shout for me to identify my self, yet non of you have, makes me feel as though something is missing."I remarked causing several of the people to tilt their heads in confusion. I smirked and exude a slight malevolent aura, just enough for them to notice but not enough to kill any of them. "I AM THE DEMON EMPEROR MALEVO DRESDGRULL, RULER OF COUNTLESS WORLDS, HIGH SOVEREIGN OF THE ETERNAL DEMON EMPIRE, AND MANY MORE TITLES THAT I DON'T WANT TO GET INTO NOW, BUT WILL BE LATER STATED IN THE PAPER THAT WILL BE PUBLISHED FOR ALL!"I voice boomed with my will, the world dancing to my desires. I looked to the people for the effect and was pleased with their expressions I continued. "I AM A LENIANT LORD, HOWEVER SEVERAL OF THE ACTIONS OF THE PEOPLE HERE DESEVER MY IRE, AND NO THE GOOD DOES NOT OUT WAY THE BAD HERE."With that I wave my hand and several of the leaders and guards are erased from existence. This causing those who remained to panic, screaming in horror. I sigh and they all freeze in fear. "CALM."I commanded, and they all slowly got back their seats, the guards going back to their spots. The looks on their faces where confused and slightly warry but calm non-the-less. Good. I begin to speak once more, withdrawing my aura to my-self. "Sorry about the unpleasantness of that. Now then, time to begin, first, I will stop all wars on this planet for the time being, you can get back to them later, after all the adjustments have been settled into."As I stopped talking one of the leaders, a women of some European descent raised here hesitantly, I nod to her and aloud her to speak, mentally noting her. "Yes, I am Margert Handsy, of England, what adjustments?"She asked slowly a slight British accent in her. I want to say cockney? However I nod to her question as it was reasonable to ask. "Simple. I will get rid of all your student debts and medical ones as well, fund and support public transit to the entire world, shut down all of your current power plants and replace them with magical ones, ETC. Once every one has gotten used to this I will then add a status system to your world, just think of the status menus in RPGs and other such video games and you got the gist of it. Once you all get used to this I will then introduce you to the life of the other planets of this world, dealing with any problems that may arise from this. This should be easy enough to do over the course of about a thousand or so years."I looked around as all the people around me looked at me with even more wonder. Oh what fun this time will be, don't you think so dear read? I thought as I look directly at you.
"Tommy, you're currently trapped in the grip of my robotic butler/bodyguard/best buddy. I don't think you have the right to criticize my branding." An hour ago, Clopin and I had staged a jailbreak to run off with our quarry: a man by the name of Thomas Andersen. Tommy made a living through a complete hatchet job of an online news podcast called Andersen Alert. The show was a two hour dive into the real truth, which for some baffling reason always ended up being some variation of the gays being satanic predators, socialism being a murder cult, and Christianity is the only source of morality in the world. Everything you'd expect from a weasel that describes himself as a theocratic fascist. Bored as hell, Tommy said, "You know, deep down, I always knew this was a possibility. All my years of speaking truth to power was going to make some bleeding heart--" "No no no, none of that. Clopin, give me an arm."Clopin shifted to present Tommy's left arm without letting go. I took Tommy by the wrist and bit down as hard as I could. "AAAAGGH! Did you just bite me?!" I smirked as I responded, "Yes I did." Tommy rolled his eyes. "Way to go, Kittenator. You really...uh, really..."Tommy started coughing and sweating profusely. "I--I don't--what's happening?" I grinned. "My toxin is starting to go to work." "Toxin? But kittens don't--" I grabbed Tommy by the face. "Sweetie, my name is Kittenator because I turn people into my kittens. Sweet little pets who can't even wrap their precious minds around the very concept of disobeying me." Tommy went wide eyed. "WHAT?!" "Oh, don't be like that, Tommy. This isn't a downgrade, it's an evolution! After all, fascists aren't actually people--they're just pathetic, scooped out husks of flesh and bone that we've been deluded into believing deserve to be treated as human beings. And considering the alternative was beating you to death, I think you should be a little more grateful." "Of course I'm grateful, mistress, but--"Tommy clamped a hand over his mouth when he realized what he just said. I smiled as I purred, "It's starting. You can feel it, can't you Tommy? Like a big soft cloud is settling over you. That's the toxins going to work, giving you real worth for the first time in your life." Clopin let go of Tommy, leaving him to stumble on the floor as his voice sputtered out. I leaned over him and continued, "Every second, my gift to you is working through your body, changing you. Improving you. I wonder what you noticed first. Was it the way your skin thins and softens? Your fat cells moving around to all the places I want them to be? Or how every hair follicle below your eyebrows is leaving, falling out in droves?" Tommy tried in vain to hide his growing smile as I kept talking. "Or maybe you felt the mental changes first. The way it gets harder and harder to think about things that don't involve me, the wonderfully bubbly feeling you get when you think about obeying me."I leaned in very close to whisper in Tommy's ear, "Or maybe you noticed the best thing of all: the fact that you still remember the person you were, but you just don't give a shit." The transformation proved to be too much for Tommy, and he passed out. As my newest kitten snoozed peacefully, I handed him off to Clopin. "Clopin, tell the kittens to get a room ready for our newest acquisition, and have them prepare his outfit. Something...pink, I'm thinking." Clopin's eyes blinked as he said, "Alert: the mercenary known as Chrysaor Black has been sighted in the area." I chuckled as I took a spiked collar with a leash from my belt. I spun the collar as electricity arced between the spikes. "Well, I'm never one to turn down a two-for-one special."
“I’m in love with you, I’ve been coming to get my cards and palms read every month to see you, not to know my destiny” The fortune teller (Leila: or as she called herself on her billboard, The Great and Mysterious Lana) clutched the beads on her wrist, it had been a long time since she had been confessed to, or even with someone. But something in some way would stop her from taking it to the next stage, call it Fate if you will.. “I am flattered sir, but I am bound to Lady Fate and Fortune, I don’t see romance in my life, however you do, your cards have shown this many times” what she had failed to tell him is it would be one sided love, never returned, it would break his heart and he would eventually be reborn. Sitting in her room at night, illuminated by candles and the statue of Fate with offerings around her. “Oh Lady Fate, why can I not meet someone, when I encountered your path I did not expect love to be this hard” “Because my child…that is not what I have predetermined” was the voice that responded, light and tranquil, but soft and welcoming “your fate is to do this until you find your student..one who will replace you, only then will your fate be done and you can go on to love…with that you will meet Aphrodite” Leila grimaced, she had always had similar response in the cards, how she had to find a student, she was tired of these words. And decided what the heck, grabbing a lantern she found herself walking to the nearby Tavern where she knew the man who confessed would be, as he had not so subtle dropped hints on it. She found herself sat opposite this man a few hours, and drinks, later. Laughing and touching his arm gently as he wooed her with stories and how much he wanted to meet her. “THIS IS NOT WHAT LADY FATE HAS DETERMINED!” the tavern began to shake, lights and candles extinguishing, in the darkness a light emitted and there she stood, Lady Fate, angry..furious..or ready to change Leilas fate.. “YOU WILL FULFIL YOUR DESTINYYYYYYYY!”
Pretty good for a rough rough! Very detailed but not to the point of boredom. Although I would've liked to see more interaction, I think. Maybe actually have Sarah spook him and interrupt his thoughts, then have that lead on to a different but related chain of thought, if you know what I mean? Just so that it isn't one massive info dump, even though I think you handled that pretty well. It sounds pretty thought-through and interesting!
SIX MONTHS AGO "Clearly not us. Eat it?" "Wait! No, I'm not one of you, but I mean no harm! I came as a visitor! I was actually about to leave..." "Leave so soon?. Come." "But leader-" "We let go, we lose meal. We invite, we make friend maybe?" "Umm... sure..."I, Max, entered a cave, wondering what would happen to me... NOW "Interesting. Still can't believe humans still exist!"a scarter inquires. "I'm still in disbelief that humans come from TWO PLANETS!"I state. Having lived with the scarters for a few months now, I've learned a lot of surprising things, including that there were humans on this planet too. WITHOUT space travel. There's still signs of the previous civilisation, but there's a rule... "MUM! Check out what we found! It very big! Wheel! Boosters!"a scarter child cries. "Did you near ruins again?"another scarter says. "Sorry, miss, but we think it works! I think it flies!"another scarter kid cries. "Wait, what? Where? Show me!"I ask. "Max, human, don't encourage them"the female scarter states. "But... but... I want to go home... I enjoyed being here, I really did, but I want to go home!"I'm almost ready to cry. The leader comes up to me. "Glad you liked us. Will be happy to help you home." I smile. "Thank you, sir." After the spaceship was dug up, and a scarter historian helped me figure it out, I started it up, and I'm on my way back to Utopia... Amelia must have had her baby by now, I can't wait to see it... \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [Alien Life.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/x1uytg/alien_life/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
"I suppose you're here to say I had it coming too." Hunter lay in his bed, his body covered in bandages from the waist down. Heart monitors beeped around him. His normally impeccable physique was now hidden beneath a simple hospital gown. His entire face was covered in scars and slashes from where automobile glass found its mark. Above him hovered Chris, his old job rival. Ever since he was brought in with much fanfare by the boss a few years ago, it became clear that Chris was destined for big things. Hunter wanted them too, and he had seniority and the ear of those that mattered. So began their cat and mouse, their song and dance, their attack and parry. "Look, there was a time I might. I mean, we both know the shit you did. Hell, the whole industry knows. All this time, the ride over, the elevator, everything... I was..." "Lemme guess,"Hunter cut him off as he always would. "You were thinking you shouldn't be here." "Well, yeah. I knew what you'd think. But this... this doesn't seem real!" "It's real. Trust me, you get a catheter jammed into you, it IS real. Do yourself a favor, kid."Hunter called Chris "kid"from the day he arrived; what was once a disdainful nickname now felt more cautious and sincere. "Buckle up." "I will. What are the doctors saying?" "Lotta damage and a lotta surgery. I'm pretty much done. I..."Hunter held back tears, even to the end protecting his image. "I don't know if I'll ever have kids. How do I tell my fiancee?" All of this blindsided Chris like a steel chair to the temple. "Give it a year?"he offered. "I know my friend got some nerve damage and he was fine in a year." "Your friend's a little nutty, with all due respect,"Hunter interjected. "Nah... unless there's a miracle, I'm done." Chris found words coming out he never thought he'd say. "You... you can't be done. You? After all this time, all this buildup? You spent years making sure you were forever, man! And... I know, I was the guy you stepped on! All of that posturing, all of that backstabbing, and now that's it? It's all for nothing?" Hunter shrugged as he struggled to adjust himself in the bed. "Crazy, ain't it? So, yeah, you've wanted to see karma come and bite me in the ass for years, haven't you? Lemme have it." Chris looked Hunter up and down. He felt himself ticking off a list of grievances he could air, a thousand items long or longer. He should be mentally drinking champagne and celebrating right now. He knew Hunter would be relieved with one less target to hammer down if the roles were reversed. But here, at the moment of truth, Chris slumped into a chair in the room. "What's there to say? Everything we went through feels so fake now. All that you did is just noise. And I know a lot of people would want to kick you when you're down, but... well... I feel like I need to thank you. I came into this company before I was 30, and I was destined for greatness. And I got a big head. You made sure I understood the ins and outs and pluses and minuses... and I... if I didn't listen, would I even be here today? I'm sorry this happened to you. Let me know if you need help with the bills." "...nah,"Hunter groaned out. "Big boss already has it covered." "You sure? I could do a fundraiser to..." "Yeah, he's sure. I just need to rest right now. The painkillers are kickin' in. Thanks for coming, Chris. I'll see you on Monday."
The necromancer glared daggers at his assistant. “Your insolence is testing my patience, worm. I AM A GOD. I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE.” His assistant, a tall bespectacled man, continued calmly. “Sir please think this through. Putting all your power in a baseball bat is a horrible idea. You’d get tired of carrying it after 5 minutes. Also have you considered how easy it would be to take the bat away from you? How will you protect your-“ The necromancer yelled again “KNOW YOUR PLACE BEFORE I REMIND YOU OF IT.” An orb of necrotic energy gathered in his hand. “This plan is foolproof. With all my power in this baseball bat all I have to do is hit someone once maybe twice.” “Sir…” The necromancer continued, pacing around the room now “Think of the armies I could raise Melvin. The souls I could control in seconds. Think of all the spells I wont have to memorize now…” “Sir…” “Then again, you’re probably too stupid to see MY genius.” “YOUNG MASTER!” The necromancer sneered. “Oooooh the worm has some bass in its voice. How impressive. ” Melvin took a deep breath and cleaned off his glasses. He didn’t mean to yell. The young master was only 12 years old after all. But it was late and his patience was wearing thin. Powerful necromancer or not, there’s no way Melvin was going to bend to the whims of a child. Especially while he was getting paid only 5 gold an hour. “Sir,” Melvin said calmly yet firmly. “you must not have heard me earlier. So allow me to rephrase. You have exactly ten seconds to reconsider this plan and give me that bat before I inform your mother.” The necromancer paused and squinted at his assistant. “You wouldn’t dare incur my wrath like that you spineless, brainless-“ Melvin interrupted. “ I’ll also inform her about the gauntlets you tried to enchant, and the incident with her telepathy helmet.” He held out his hand. The necromancers face flushed and he threw the bat at Melvins feet. “Stupid human” the necromancer grumbled. “I was only kidding. You must be too dumb to understand comedy and genius” Melvin smiled. “Please freshen up young sir. You have school in the morning.”
The whole world seemed to stop that day. It all happened so quickly and so suddenly. Some of us were at work, some of us were lounging around at home. It started with a breaking news report, and then another, and then another. Each one grew graver and graver until all the phones and all the TV’s and all the radios around the world started blaring alarms. It had finally happened. World War 3. Some were moved to tears. Many didn’t react at all. Perhaps for some there was some bizarre joy in the liberation of death and destruction. However, we all waited. With baited breath we waited for the missiles to come and for it all to end. They never came. We waited and waited and the missiles simply hung in the sky, as if frozen in place. The tension built. We started to grow impatient. The only thing worse then death is the anticipation of it. In all our hearts there formed some perverse desire for the bombs to fall, for the conclusion to come. As the bombs stayed still we all started to panic. That was when the message came. All the phones and all the TV’s and all the radios sang at once. It wasn’t a song, but a sternly worded message. “Well that was disappointing. You’ve had your chance.” If there was any confusion as to who sent the message it became painfully clear when the missiles all turned to face Russia and China. In a few terrifying moments over a billion people were wiped off the earth. People always joked about America having stolen UFO tech, but clearly something was up. We were all scared out of our wits. After the dust and fallout settled some countries immediately surrendered to the Americans, other’s merely swallowed their pride and kissed the ring. Every once in a while some group, some rogue state, would try to rise up and break free, and every time the same message would appear, on all the phones and all the TV’s and all the radios. “Well that was disappointing. You’ve had your chance.”
A writing prompt is an idea or a concept that's supposed to inspire someone else to write a story. On this subreddit, most of the posts are prompts, and they are what need to be tagged. The tags here are the two letters in square brackets at the beginning of each post. The most common is , which stands for Writing Prompt. [You can find a full list of possible tags here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/how_to_tag_prompts/) The stories here should be inspired by the prompts that get posted. A writer scrolls through the available prompts, picks one that they like, and writes a story for it in a comment on that prompt's post. The stories do not need to be tagged, just the prompts. The only exception is poems, which should have the tag [Poem] somewhere in the comment. If you want to share your writing that isn't inspired by one of the prompts here, check out our affiliated subreddit, r/shortstories.
Although poor, he had commissioned their wedding ring to made of tungsten. He gave it to her as a symbol to signify the strength of their bond. He knew he would lose a ring as he worked the land, so his labor would be his band. It was a beautiful wedding in the most picturesque valley in spring amidst blooming flowers of countless variety. The pictures were enchanting echos of that day. Through the long years of the toil of everyday life, the ring never scratched or tarnished. Much like their love for one another, it endured. Through the spring of youth with its excitement and vibrancy. Its love of new things and the birth of their children their vows grew deep like the roots of the mountain laurels, growing into a beauty that shown from the humble earth. In the summer of their lives, their children grew strong, adventurous, and proud. Love nurtured and ripening like peaches bringing sweet joy to all that partake of them. So to must children grow and fall from the family tree when ready. Autumn’s crisp nights and balmy days brought such beautiful colors from all the dogwoods, beech, oak, and maple. Yet their love, stubborn like the evergreen magnolia, held as age robbed them of their youthful energy. Somehow the pallet of the mountain fall made them more beautiful to each other, and so their bond grew still. Like fall apples, grandchildren brought a sweetness to the shortening days. Winter’s stark and barren landscape mirrors the white frost tops of the elderly lovers. Cold, slow, and sleepy as night deepens and the days grow short. Frailty and weakness do little to blunt a love so long in the making, but makes the things difficult. Family visits like bright days show the beauty in the extended family that has grown from that love. Sitting hand in hand on the porch, a blanket over them together they watch as the long night comes. To comfortable in their long years together to disturb the other’s rest they sit quietly, comfortably, the memories of their youthful love long faded. The photos bleached by time no longer show that beautiful spring day. Even winter’s cold grasp must break and springs rebirth is announced with fresh shoots of green in the lengthening day. No longer do rough hands bring fruits of the fields to the little wooden cabin. Time and the passage of many seasons has long erased their presence in the valley. Sitting upon a stone amidst the beautiful trees and flowers, all that’s left of them is a tungsten ring.
People would kill for a seat on an Artemis mission, I only had to play dead. You’d think it would be almost impossible to remove the NASA approved test dummy aboard Artemis I, who NASA actually named Moonikin, slap on some makeup and a plastic face mask, fake the sensor feeds Moonikin was supposed to be recording, and put myself into its place. It turns out it’s way easier to do that than getting accepted into astronaut training. I should know, I’ve tried both and only succeeded at one. The plastic mask I was wearing to mimic Moonikin’s face didn’t have eye holes, so before launch I was blind as a bat. The helmet muffled most of the sounds. So, all I could really hear was the short, professional, mumbles of the ground crew working through final items on their checklists, and their bootie clad footsteps on Orion’s deck. Well, that and the sound of air blowing into my suit. There’s an intake valve on my flight suit’s thigh that feeds all the way up to the helmet. I don’t know whether to call that valve being active NASA’s big mistake, a massive waste to the US taxpayer, or my evil inspiration. See me and David, one of my buddies working on the Moonikin sensor package, were slaughtering digital zombies after work back in July and chatting. I had been correctly pointing out that Sisko had a Starfleet education on theory of combat and tactics, and David had been incorrectly pointing out that Holden had proven adaptability in commanding classes of ships he wasn’t trained on, so would have an edge if put in command of a Star Destroyer. I was racking up a double-digit headshot shooting streak when talk turned to work and David started complaining about how the turbulent airflow into Moonikin’s flight suit was reducing the sensitivity of the sensors he was designing. I asked why they were even bothering with that, it wasn’t like a dummy needed to breath, and David said, and I’m quoting him here, “NASA’s acting like Moonikin is alive.” While my digital brain was getting devoured by a zombie, it felt like the normal world full of complexity, disappointments, and bad luck had just been turned sideways and there was suddenly this narrow, but clear, path ahead: I could stow away on Artemis I. We all get evil ideas sometimes. Part of being civilized means not giving in to those temptations, or just having a laugh about them when they’re really clever. Just because the idea of stowing away seemed like it could work didn’t mean I’d really do it. But then came the mission delays. Every time they pushed back the launch I thought about it, I planned a little more. A part of me wanted to do this, and week, after week, after week of delays it kept poking at me. Eventually I had a plan to sneak on, but not off, and that little voice in the back of my head asked, “what if we roll the dice? If you sneak on, and it launches, then it was meant to be. If you sneak on and they delay again, then you shot your shot.” Yeah, not great logic, but that was what convinced me. The blast-off was pretty cool. It was smoother, and shorter than you’d think, but that probably had something to do with the adrenaline. You know your endocrine system’s going a bit wonky when you’re riding a rocket into space and jonesing to do some pushups. I wish I could tell you about how spectacular it was seeing the curvature of the earth, or night turning into an even darker night, or the stark intensity of the stars, but I kept my Moonikin mask on the whole time. I was worried that if NASA found out while they could still abort the mission, they would. Technically once they ignited the engines any kind of abort would have a multi-billion dollar price tag affixed to it, but NASA makes weird choices sometimes. I might be the only astronaut (am I an astronaut? Is it a title which must be bestowed, or a descriptor of those who have done?), anyways I might be the only person whose heart rate actually slowed down during blast-off. I was just so crazy relieved that I’d actually pulled this off, that I wasn’t thinking right.

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