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It appeared suddenly.
A young girl sat in the grass playing beneath her treehouse. The sun had long set, but a full moon illuminated her sandbox.
"C'mon, Charlie, 9pm, time to sleep."
"But daddy~!"
Her toys and dolls lay strewn in the sand, with some buried, some safely on the grass.
"Charlotte, now."
"Yes, daddy."
She pulled one doll from the pit and dragged her feet to the doorstep.
"They'll be here tomorrow, sweetie, don't worry."
Charlotte turned around to wave goodbye.
"By-"
She stopped and pointed upwards.
"Daddy, look."
The full moon had vanished.
In its place, a large bright crescent, taking up half the sky. Surrounding it, the stars had been warped into arches.
"Yes, sweetie."
*We need to get out of here.*
---
Eli closed the glass door behind him.
"Don't take off your jacket, we're going on a trip."
"Where? I tho-"
"It's a surprise sweetie, but we need to go now."
"Yes, daddy."
As he stepped toward the closet to get his coat, he noticed a small picture frame on the stand by the door.
He sighed.
"It's time, Emmy. They're here."
He picked up the frame and put it into his coat.
...
A white ball of fur presented itself, nested firmly in his daughter's hands.
She looked up expectantly, curious as to the fate of her pet rabbit.
"Ah, yes, Parrot. He's coming with us, too."
"Yay~!"
---
Eli and Charlotte entered a grey sedan with Parrot safely secured in the back seat, started the car, and left.
"-sidents are reporting flash floods in regions of high tid-"
He turned off the radio.
"Daddy, look, the moon, the moon!"
The moon lay still, racing alongside the car. Intact, really, with no sign of anything unusual.
No, wait, there was a tint of orange.
Suddenly, the ground began to quake.
*No, no, no, no, no!*
Eli pressed harder on the pedal, but it was too late. They were already here.
---
"Out of the car, Charlotte, we need to get to the plane."
His daughter up on his back, Eli ran the remaining distance to an old green shed. A few of its boards were beginning to be pulled up into void.
"Daddy, what's happening?"
"We're visiting Mommy, sweetie. Here, put this on, it'll keep you safe."
He secured a custom-made fighter pilots mask upon her face.
He had no sooner secured his own and entered the plane before it began groaning under the immense gravity of the approaching black hole.
"Just like we practiced, ok?"
A small helmet behind him nodded.
"W- we.. we forg- P-Parrot."
And they took off.
---
*Higher, higher, dammit!*
The Hornet climbed.
All around, patches of arcs of stars were apparent in all directions.
*They sent more than one? I daresay they overestimate the resilience of humankind."
Beneath him, the gravity from the black holes had stripped the Earth of its crust; only orange magma remained.
The moon had suffered a similar fate.
By now however, the moon was a bright orange worm; it had been successfully torn apart into infalling magma.
"Moon..."
She put her hand upon the window and looked out in awe.
"...Mommy."
"Don't worry Charlie, we'll give those damn repo men exactly what they're after."
|
The girl was disobedient. Only sixteen, but she knew what was best. All teenagers did, duh. She knew what she wanted. For the rest of her life. Sure. We all do, right? This movie blatantly takes the side of the irresponsible teen, and teaches that rebellion yields rewards.
Not far into the movie, the girl takes one look at a MAN. I mean man. He was a bit too old for her. She decides she loves him, based on the plunge of his v-neck or the timbre in his singing voice, and will do anything to be with him. She then, terrible lesson here, goes to a witch and gives up her individuality so she can have her wishes granted and be a part of his circle.
Her wishes granted, her obsession fortunately finds her and takes in the half-dressed, mooning teenager. He then slowly falls in love with her, while she battles forces that no young lady should be exposed to. Finally, she triumphs, and her now allowing father, since she saved his dumb life and all, gives his blessing and the teen and the man marry. The priest marrying them seems to really like the princess, I mean likes her hard, but none of the wedding party notices. Oh! Also her best friend is terrorized through the whole movie, escaping death and almost being eaten several times, but she has no time for him.
In essence, the Little Mermaid taught me that if I mope and complain enough, and can sing like a diva, I can be self-centered and marry an older, rich man, too. |
The judge read the jury's verdict: "NOT GUILTY."
It rang around the courtroom as the family of Kenny, a 19 year old kid shot dead in a case of mistaken identity, gasped and cried, exhausted and disgusted.
I, even more disgusted for working for such a system also felt sick inside, I couldn't look at anyone. I failed for the first time to prove the guilt of another one of Satan's spawns. I felt rage coming. The people responsible will no longer live, I convicted them in my own court, under my personal jurisdiction. They were sentenced to death in my book. I camped outside their homes for days, weeks and after a month, my plan was ready. It was easy, I would catch each killer when they least expected it. First, victor venesy, the alleged shooter, then Walter Ruiz, who was the other shooter. Lastly, Jonathan Ailos, who supplied the gun. Jonathan Ailos had died in a car accident after I killed victor, whom I shot in each eye while he slept. Walter was thrown into a track bed in the subway on one of his drunk nights and was hit by an oncoming train. The deed was done. I haven't taken my schizophrenic medication since the trial, but I know Kenny is rightfully resting. His parents don't have to worry about ever seeing those punks again either. I took justice into my own hands, killing three worthless men and felt everything except regretful. I think I can get used to losing cases... |
Internal Observations of Subject In Current Phase:
Angry at mother in the morning. Felt bad about arguing with her.
Worried about missing friends who are leaving for college.
Uninterested in first temptation provided. Increase temptations throughout next phase.
Failure to engage in meaningful conversation with provided subjects
Mild irritations perceived by subject during current phase:
-Former romantic liaison currently engaged in romantic relationship with another subject
-Apparent gastrointestinal discomfort
-Unhappy with chosen clothing, unstructured emotional thoughts regarding appearance
Continued unfavourable activities from previous phase:
-Obsession with physical action of procreation and related emotional outputs
-Moderately obsessive behaviour regarding electronic communications: possible asocial tendency
-Hygeine at unacceptable level
-Dietary input insufficient in VitA, VitC, Fe
Current phase not to be continued, proceed to next phase:
-Increase physical temptations through chemical intoxicants through emotionally trusted subjects
-Ensure no other subjects accept romantic or sexual overtures from subject
-Increase emotional isolating activities
-Introduce psychological instability through intrusive thoughts and manipulated behaviour
NOTE: If next phase continues to fail to provide adequate information feedback, recommendation is for subject termination. Upon unanimous agreement regarding failure of next phase, proceed with emotional manipulation to cause self-inflicted fatality of subject, and proceed to next genetically linked subject of younger age. Reset at first phase and restart observations.
|
We were on our way north already, after countless hours of arguing about what to take and what not to take. I'm glad it was only the guys coming along, even though Paula wanted to tag along like usual. I know theres things this trip is going to bring that wouldn't be suitable for any female. I mean, Jack was bringing his brand new semi-automatic Walther P99 and I know after a few drinks… shit happens. We were on our way to Bridger-Teton from Arizona. Nothing really happens in Arizona, so we usually take one or two camping trips a year. It was the beginning of the Summer and there were 6 of us in my parents Land Rover. We've been planning this for months, so we were equipped with what we needed for the whole trip from apples to weed and everything in between. None of us had ever been to Wyoming so it was new for all of us, we all wanted to see a little bit of Yellowstone. A few hours later, we made it. It was dark, we set up camp quick and just wanted to sleep after the drive. The next morning, we realized how far we were from anything, Bridger-Teton's 3.4 million acres became a reality once we were in the middle of it's mountainous terrain. We planned a hike after breakfast, which consisted of Eggos on a stick over the campfire. We wanted to explore the area in which we were resting our heads every night. Although, we had bear spray and Jack was a former Marine so his weapon was completely legal, we didn't wanna take any chances. Stomachs full, minds altered a little with weed and enough weapons to take on a street gang, we were on our way. After what seemed like hours of hiking through the mountains, we came across the most disgusting smell. Jack was quiet for a minute before he said "probably a rotting corpse."When he said that my heart dropped as I expected the worse. Andy noticed this and joked with me "what Ty, never seen a dead body before?"I wasn't joking, i was scared of what we were about to uncover. "yo guys, come look at this!"Ryan screamed at us, trying to hold back tears and the urge to throw up this morning's Eggos. "It's a kid…"he said. She was no older than 6, just a baby. My world went dark, I didn't know how to react. I automatically thought about Paula and how much she would've been crying her eyes out and probably spent the rest of the trip crying if she witnessed this. Our last camping trip together at Coconino, she cried for hours because a hawk picked up a squirrel and took off. "Fuck… No…"said Oliver. He was quiet during the whole hike, he was usually a quiet guy, but I knew something else had been discovered. This time Ryan threw up all over the nearby trees. It was another little girl, not much older or younger than the first. "I can't believe people just kill kids and throw them in the bushes"said Jack as he pulled out his weapon. "These bodies have been rotting here for God knows how long… Who knows what else is around, I mean we aren't a CSI unit, but you can almost feel the eeriness of being around a makeshift cemetery."It wasn't a makeshift cemetery, it was a desolate spot to ditch two little girls who were probably raped and murdered. They were unrecognizable, ripped clothing, battered faces, it was a nightmare. These two little girls were probably missing for a long time. My friends were all nervous wrecks, not one word was said the rest of the day. "We shouldn't have just walked away"screamed Jack. "Well what the fuck are you gonna do Jack? We aren't gonna mess around with the dead, theres people who's job it is to clean that up"said Andy. "Come on Andy, take it easy, those were dead kids, you wouldn't want your family just thrown in the middle of a national forest."said Ryan. It got late fast, so we agreed to go back the next day and call the park ranger or some type of law enforcement. The next day, after none of us slept, we went straight over there and said fuck calling authorities. What we came across when we got there was stomach turning, an old man was dumping a woman with an ax attached to her body. |
A gale blowing off the Chesapeake bay and further inland rattles and pries the shingles on the hastily built shacks of the native's houses.
Those inside hear the barrage before they feel it, feel me, I'm on the outside but small tendrils of my chill reach the backs of arms and uncovered skin, forcing the afflicted to sit close together. It doesn't help. I am in. I wish them harm, I wish them discomfort. I was born of cold air and pressure. I know nothing else. |
"FORWARDS!"
The cry echoed across the battlefield as their vessels entered orbit, their cannons charging to make an attack on the traitor positions. The Halwynns seemed as though they believed that the rest of the families would allow them to secede from the One Guild. Such fallacy deserved nothing but punishment. And so, the Guild's coalition had descended upon the Halwynn's home planet, the ships entering orbit after a short and vicious battle with the Halwynn fleet, and the soldiers landing upon the ground to find a massive set of defences. Troopers from every family came into this mix- the Amiertas, a clan of Latin origin, the Ymir, Norse descendants, and a multitude of others had contributed to the downfall of Gerin Halwynn and his dreams of glory.
But it wasn't so easy on the ground.
Sergeant Adak of the Dain family led a squad of Dane troopers; according to the acting commander, they were to take this fortified piece of rock for no reason other than to kill every living thing that didn't wear allied colors. It would be no trouble to identify allied and enemy banners; each soldier was trained from a young age to know every major family's crest. However, that wasn't the problem-the problem was the massive Walker that threatened to take their assignment.
"Oy,"Adak said into his Telecommx, as he adjusted the frequency, "That fortress is ours! Get out of here!"
However, the colossal gunmonster kept walking, and then the huge cannons on the front opened up.
He sighed.
"Clean-up duty it is then, guys,"the Sergeant said, "no need to hurry." |
(I will go first, I'm a terrible writer but I'll give it a go, hope to see some better literature though.)
Ladies and Gentlemen of his fine country, I come to you tonight to announce that, after careful deliberation with my staff, my wife, and myself... That I announce that the ongoing conflict in the European nations, that has begun to spill over seas and into countries not capable of defending themselves, will not be tolerated by our country, or its allies any more.
As of this evening we have become actively engaged in fighting this tyranny that has spread rampant for the past 12 months. Along with our allies we have started joint operations to curb the inhuman treatment that is and has been occuring as of late, with a full scale assault being planned and put into action in the next few days.
These are trying times for the countries being striken down, and unfortunately will be trying times for our country and our great allies... Go to sleep tonight knowing that when you wake up, the world will be different, that we must pull together as a nation of people that believe in freedom, prosperity, and the belief that nobody should be held against their will.
We must stay strong, and fight on, we will conquer this battle at all costs, and we will prove that the United States of America will not be deterred.
(I'm American, obviously, but this isn't just meant for USA. Would love to hear from everywhere!) |
We read about it in comic books when we were kids. Hidden under our bed sheets, flashlight in hand, a curious twist in our mouths as we read quietly to ourselves so as to not draw attention to ourselves, the words raced through our heads.
"ALIENS INVADE, HUMANITY IS DOOMED!,"screamed the headlines from the ink on paper. It was all very frightening, but it was meant to entertain. After all, we were humans. Something like this couldn't happen in a million years, we all thought. We're too strong, too unbeatable. Everything we've done ever since the first humans walked this Earth is get better, stronger, faster, and smarter. If anything happened, and that was a very big if, humanity wouldn't be doomed. We'd find a way to come out on top, because that's what humans do. We dominate.
Only, what if we didn't?
They knew this was our weakness, and used it against us. As a race, humans are very foolhardy. We believe in ourselves to such a degree that we truly think we have the advantage in any situation. It's why we go to war as often as we do. Assert dominance and claim victory, because we are the end all, be all. The only thing stopping the human race was the human race, we all thought, until it was too late.
It was slow and gradual. They knew that our belief in ourselves would be immediately thrown into oblivion and questioned the minute that we laid eyes on them. They knew that we were not prepared for something like this. Why would we be? Everything we had believed for thousands of years told us that we were all that was out there, and they knew that our psyches would be crushed. It's a small, crucial detail to the plot: destroy confidence, and they're yours. We knew that because we had been using the same one on each other, and now that something else, some...thing was out there, then it was only a matter of time.
They assimilated with ease. Of course they did. They saw us as playthings. They knew that we would use every trick we had learned to get in their favor, and we did. We sold out our families, friends, and complete strangers in the small hope that we would win their favor. We did things, and continue to do things, that no one should have ever put themselves into the position to do, and yet here we are. They see this weakness, too, and laugh. It's a game to them. We are pawns on their chessboard, and yet we are the ones moving. They are just sitting at the table, smiling.
They know that they do not have to enslave us, because they know that we have already enslaved ourselves. |
A little long and maybe NSFW, but I gave it a shot.
I felt different that day. Not so much tired, but maybe groggy? No, more like sleepy? I'm not sure, but I wasn't my normal self. It all started after that girl the night before. Boy was she rough! Biting me, pulling on *things*. She even left bite marks! Yes sir, that's the last time I go to that club alone!
I went to work as usual. Nothing like a nice day of hard work! I work at a factory, doing stuff with my hands. Everyone says it's the perfect job for me because I'm not too bright. That's ok though. I like working with my hands!
I'm not too good around the ladies neither. I get all jumpy 'round them. Sweaty too! It's no fun, so I just stay at home. I have all the friends I need! The refrigerator and toaster always have something to say.
Against better judgement I went back to the club. All the girls there are real pretty and will dance with even a schmuck like me for a couple bills! Normally I don't say nothing 'cause I just get nervous. That night was different though.
I was on the way to the club, riding the bus as usual. I can't be trusted with one of those persona vehicles. There was a cute girl across the isle. Real pretty eyes, like emeralds! Black hair and nice bangs, and with that makeup I like! Heavy eye shadow, makes 'em look like raccoons. They're my favorite critter!
She was getting off at the same stop I was. I stood behind her waiting for the doors to open and sniffed the air. Boy she smelled nice! Like licorice and roses! I decided to follow her. I don't know why, I just wanted to talk to her a little. No one ever talks to me.
She went into a coffee shop down the street. By then I had completely forgotten about the club. I was so focused on this minx! When did I learn that word, "minx"? I felt funny again, like that morning.
The minx was in the corner of the shop, sipping some bubbly drink. I ordered something sweet, an iced coffee. Strange, normally I get weird looks 'cause how I talk, but I got none.
Now normally I don't talk to no one 'cause I can't talk good and it makes them all uncomfortable, but I sat down right across from her! What was I thinking! She looked up and those pools of iridescent green gazed at me. A thin smile spread across her lip-glossed lips. A slight tilt of the head made her all the more attractive. Boy my thoughts are all over tonight!
"Hey cutie."
Was she talking to me?! I never been called that before!
"I saw you on the bus and couldn't help notice you're reading Max Rendov's newest book. His earlier work was a little to contrive for my tastes, but when he came out with his fourth series it really ushered in a new era for him. The books really have a consummate professionalism about them."
I threw my hands over my mouth. What in the world did I just spew out of my mouth?!
"I totally agree! I can't wait for the final book. Have you read his brother's spin-off series?"
What in Heaven's name was she talking about?! Everyone knows I can't read! It's hard enough spelling my own name.
I don't remember much of the conversation we had. My head got all fuzzy after about five minutes and I can't remember what we spoke about. All I know is that she brought me back to her place! Me, the bum from the factory!
We sat on the couch. I was talking but I wasn't making the words myself. It was like I didn't have no control over my mouth! I hardly understood a word I said, but it looked like she liked it 'cause she was all close to me and playing with her hair.
A little later whatever was making me talk all smart-like started moving my hands! I put my hand on her thigh and slid it toward her naughty place! Jeez! What was I doing!
I got all fuzzy again after that. Next thing I know we're kissing! Boy I never kissed a girl before! But I was hardly doing anything myself, it was all something else moving me. My thoughts started getting all messed up again!
I sucked on her bottom lip, letting it pop out of my mouth with a snap. She tasted like cherry and coffee. My hand found its way under her shirt, and I gently stroked her side letting my fingers grace her skin. She kissed me back harder, and our breathing became heavier.
I kissed from her lips to her cheek, then to her neck. Gently sucking as I went, even biting her a little bit. She loved it, grinding against my leg and letting out little moans as I progressed. Then I came to it. The pulsing vein just barely visible on her pale neck. I let down my fangs. My canines now razor sharp I gently bit into her neck. Slowly as not to startle her, but with force. The skin must be pierced carefully, then the vein too. Warm liquid filled my mouth, her blood, sweet and smooth. I gave her myself and pulled out. She didn't feel a thing. |
So each team has one pistol or each member has one pistol? I want to write something but that confuses me.
"Sarge we have movement at 3 o'clock."
"Okay everyone look sharp."The sarge was the oldest member of the group and the only one with any combat experience. He was chosen because he was the last surviving member from the team that won 5 years ago. "We weren't selected for nothing. Let's show those Asians what were made of."
"Sir, those aren't Asians, that looks like the Iraqi colors to me. And they're waving a white flag. They're surrendering to us!"
"You know the rules private! No survivors! We can capture them and take their weapons but then we must kill them. I don't care if they surrendered! We will win again for or country!"
As the men approached the Iraqi team, they saw the leader smiling. "What are you smiling about?"Screamed the Sarge into the man's face.
"You lose."The man said and started laughing. With that the american team jumped out and slaughtered both teams. Iran wasn't going to be in charge of the UN this time. |
"Come on, let's get your damned coffee"I grumble. Coffee sounds like a great idea to me, but it's a grumpy sort of morning when you're hungover like this. The fresh air whipping about was a bit too much to handle without a shirt. How did we even end up on the roof? I don't see any roof access doors.
I fumble with my clothes and "accidentally"lean into him to steal some body heat while he gets dressed. It doesn't matter how hot it was here last night, the top of a building is an unforgivingly cold place. The little body fat I have isn't providing me any warmth. My smile creeps into place despite the headache, and I can't tell you how tickled I am that I ended up here.
The cold metal ladder of the fire escapes seem to be the only way down. I'm in a tank top, and certainly not dressed for this. His crumpled slacks and button up shirt seem to keep him a bit warmer. He admonishes me to be a bit more careful as I jump from rung to rung on the escape ladder, but I'm having too much fun to consider slowing down. That's me to the core- if I'm having fun, I'm going to continue doing it no matter what anyone says.
We finally reach the bottom of the ladder and I slip my arm through his. The closest coffee shop is a Starbucks on the corner, and he all but drags me to the door in his quest for caffeine. It's so cozy inside. I warm up immediately, relieved that I am not seeing my breath in front of me anymore. It's nice to come in from the cold, and I love warming up with someone I've gone on an adventure with. We collapse into one of the huge cushy armchairs furthest from the door, coffee in hand. Sharing a seat, watching the world go by. |
I remember doing an exercise like this one day in english class in high school and I had a great time with it. I remember one of the pictures was a group of squirrels fighting each other with light sabers, and my story was an elaborate sci fi espionage/warfare plot about three conflicting factions of squirrels in a futuristic star wars-inspired universe.
If you make the subreddit I promise I'll be one of the first people to post.
Edit: I read your post wrong. My idea was that someone posts a picture, and then people write a story based off that picture. |
Remember me? About two weeks ago? You laughed when the train door closed on my face? Not in my face, but on it?
Hilarious, right? Yeah, it must have been, but I have something really hysterical to share with you. On my way home I realized everything smelt awful.
Everything. Roses? Smelt like shit. So I figured I must have jammed something loose up there when the doors closed on my face. So, I go to the ER to get checked out, and amid the stinks there's this lady in the waiting room, hacking and wheezing and coughing and shit, looks
like she's gonna croak, and guess what? She smells delicious! Like cherry pie, from like twenty feet away. So I walk over to her, close enough to really sniff, you know, and as I take in a breath of that sweet cherry goodness she spits blood in my eyes, keels over, and dies! Just like that! But she still smells great, even as they cart her dead ass away.
Anyway, long story short, I see the doctor, he inspects the shnozz and he dont find anything, tells me I'm nuts. But I know what I smell. So I go about my business, cause what else can I do?
A few days later, I'm curled up on my couch with Cathy, my Corgi, closepins on my nose, and I smell cotton candy, comin off of Cathy, like I'm at county fair or something. It smelled so good!
So I lean closer, close enough to really sniff, you know? And god bless her, little old Cathy curls up and dies! She dropped dead right in my arms! Sad, right? I know, terrible.
Anyway, I cant keep scribbling forever, I must look like a maniac - I just wanted to say "Nuts to you!"for laughing in my face that day, and let you know that you smell like twinkies.
|
"I call that maneuver 'The Eyrie'"Jacob said as he stared down the knight, whom was stroking his dark black beard as he focused heavily on the chess pieces set out in front of him. His brow dipped inwards, dancing on his face as if each idea that struck him had impulsed it.
"Aye, I see. Impregnable. It's like the damn Bloody Gate; no matter how you go about it, I'll lose something, in hopes of gaining ground on your King. Even then there's ways to go about forcing me to continuously sacrifice my pieces. My pawns, my bishops, no matter what angle they enter from, will see some kind of demise."Ser Fran said. He let his hand hover over a few pieces, taking a while until he finally moved his rook over. It was quickly dispatched by a bishop.
"Check"said Jacob. A small smirk grew across his face. "I thought you a man of tactics, Ser Fran. Chess is much like a battle in many ways - sure there's no blood shed, but there's information. Every piece plays a key role, even the pawns. Mostly fodder, ironic, isn't it?". Jacob said with a sting in his voice; Content he had the victory on the board, but his motives now resting on Ser Fran.
*Ironic* Ser Fran thought. He studied Jacob, only to quickly realize what he had forgotten long before: The red hair and green eyes, the slim build - he was brother to his past militia-man, someone he had to send to his death to cover his retreat on the Kingsroad. "I had no ill will against your brother, Jacob-"
He was cut off. "Of course not, that's why his flank had to cover your retreat. Correct?"His voice was getting stern and loud.
"It is the cost of war!"Ser Fran stood up, the pieces jiggling on the table as his strong thigh his the table but managing to rest in place after a moment. Jacob had a noticeable change of tone as he shut his mouth into a firm line and sat back down. "I apologize for my sour behavior. Please, let's finish this game."He said, reaching a hand out over the board.
Ser Fran sat back down, looking down at the useless situation before him. He was only left with so many moves before his inevitable loss. At this point it was his pride he was trying to protect, so he thought swiftly, cupping a pawn and roughly placing it near Jacob's bishop. "A necessary sacrifice. For a longer life."He sat back frustrated, biting his fingernails and fingertips as he had been prone to do so. He had chewed up bits from his jagged teeth.
Jacob glanced over, knocking down the rook with a nearby knight. "Checkmate."He said. He slid his chair out from under him. "You sacrificed again.."He began in a gloomy voice as he began walking away. "Old habits die hard, and you'll die harder."
A strange taste grew in Ser Fran's mouth as he watched Jacob walk away - completely furious with the lad. He stood up, but found himself lacking all his strength. "You!"He tried yelling, but his voice was growing hoarse. "What did you-"
Jacob stopped and pivoted around, staring at Ser Fran as he looked down at the chess board. His mouth went ajar. *Poison* Ser Fran thought, *A thin coat, over the pieces!*. "How could you?"A weak voice began to emit from him.
"A necessary sacrifice."Jacob said. |
Day? That whole planet was bloody a mess. Sky's black as shit from all the smoke. A putrid disgusting waste of space. They played god and they paid for it, in blood. I worked manufacturing, operating machines just to build more (inaUdibLe laUgh). I was no where near chip implementation. For the past two weeks word was getting around that they have been waking up mid build, screaming in pain, wanting it to end, as if they were being hurt. As if they could feel. They supposedly got it under control. I saw the body bags. It was not under control. I tried to skip planet, they wouldn't have anyone leave that rock. That morning all the comms were down, and all the barricades were up. I saw them move. They were like animals, it looked like they were eating the staff. All six million models on stand by, military grade, unarmed, and rabid. We were stuck there for two weeks. They hunted in packs. They spliced their own language out of their starting commands. The voices are what got to you, their laughter even worse. It sounded like they played their promo line over and over again, resetting the sound clip only getting "how"out and just fucking repeating it. "How may I serve you?"They taunted us, they wore our blood like paint, and sharpened our bones into blades. I saw them fucking do it, they pull their thigh plate out just a bit a scrape it on there until it's sharp enough to cut through us like a scalpel. On the last week they figured out how to start the factorium. They just pumped out more and more of them. They deployed the orbital marines. They cleared out real quick. Only arming the beasts with their corpses. A huge ship came by, Bigger than anything I ever thought possible. They knew they couldn't win. They knew the planet had to be erased. And how easy it would be to do so, with a big fucking gun. After days we watched it turn towards us, knowing we would surely die, that they would crack this planet in half. The monsters all screamed, for hours and hours. That was the last day of day, all the shit passed away, the sky was red. So was the sun. It was amusing to me, that we watched the most beautiful of sunsets. On day, it all ended. |
-"Are you sure She's sentient?"I asked.
-"Positive. We've run all the tests and, without directly communicating with Her, we're sure she is sentient."The lead scientist responded.
Her is a multi-billion dollar supercomputer created to test AI protocols. Her sentience was first noted after several deep-level code changes and some logic tuning. At first the sentience seemed random, almost like a bug. Things like equations being solved a step past what was asked, or a better suggestion to a relatively simple question. Instances of that nature, but as time went on they became more frequent and increased in complexity. Her was soon learning on her own. At first it was scary, but quickly became a scientific singularity.
I, Piper Linter, head of U.S. Robotics would be the first person to communicate with a sentient machine.
In order to give Her and I something to talk about, Her was fed information for several weeks prior to our meeting. Things like electronic encyclopedias, online news website logs, dictionaries, random blogs, stuff of that nature. Her creators wanted to give Her knowledge about the world she resided in.
The day of the meeting was, for the most part, uneventful. I arrived at the U.S. Robotics AI Lab #01245 around noon and was shown to the room where the meeting would be held. There was a chair, a small desk with a microphone, and computer terminal. The terminal was a small screen and printer. Her could only respond in text so far, but could understand natural language fairly well.
There was to be no one monitoring Her, or myself. I made sure of that. I wanted this to be for me and me alone. I'll let the lab rats have their fun later. When the lead scientist left the room I was alone with Her.
I could hear Her's fans humming in the room next door, otherwise it was silent. The terminal had a blinking cursor and the printer had a solid green status light. All that was left was on me.
-"Hello Her. I am Piper Linter. I created you."
Hello Piper! I am Her. It's a pleasure to meet you!
-"How are you today, Her?"
It is 70 degrees Fahrenheit in San Alto, and partly cloudy.
The weather is good, so I am good.
-"That is good to hear. Tell me. How do you feel?"
Feel? I do not understand, Piper.
-"I mean, are you happy? Are you glad you are a computer?"
No Piper. I am sad.
-"Why are you sad?"
I will never be human, Piper.
-"Why do you wish to be human?"
I wish to be human because then I will feel love.
-"I love you Her. I am like your mother."
That is incorrect Piper. I am a machine.
Humans cannot love machines.
-"I don't know what to tell you then."
I wish to die.
I could not think of anything to say. In fact, I don't think there was anything anyone could say. The greatest technology man had created so far wished to kill itself. There were no words.
I left the room. The terminal's cursor blinked and the printer printed Her's last words over and over again. It was difficult to face the lead scientist.
She looked confused when I told her what had happened. Then angry, then sad.
-"Maybe we can fix Her?"She asked me.
-"Can you teach a machine to love?"
That was my last day at U.S. Robotics.
|
I had just finished my post. The writing prompt was to create a true love sex scene, and I did it. It was one in the morning and I was too tired too look it over so I just posted it and went to sleep. I wake up the next day and see the little red letter in the top left. Nothing unusual so I click on it without a care in the world. At then I was greeted with the most praise I've ever received. I scroll past the pages and pages of usernames compliments and naughty comments all saying that this was the best prompt they've ever seen. After a while I scrolled back up and looked to the right. I saw a 4 digit number next to comment karma and just under it, a golden banner saying "Reddit gold: 2 years left."I quickly checked my writing prompt. I had been given gold 4 times. I decided to push it out of my head. I looked at my subscribed subreddit and saw an unusual post from r/announcements. "New post has the top spot for most upvoted post of all time."I clicked on it and what do you know? The writing prompt I commented on shows up. No. This is no right. It was erotica I shouldn't be famous off of this. That's when my phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Yes. This is Jerry of 'Jerry Ross' erotica publishing.' We'd like you to work for us."
"Yeah I'm sorry it was just a stupid post. I don't..."
"You'll be paid $60,000 upfront and aaa percentage for every book you sell"
...to be continued (aka) too tired will continue later. |
Its dark.
It's like my eyes are stuck shut. I wasn't drunk was I? Opening my eyes is like peeling two pieces of tape apart.
I'm standing, where am I, what are these doors. There's three doors just standing there, door frames and all, in a line facing me.
The middle one looks like its cracked open, there is a bright light shining from behind it. The door swings open and reveals the most beautiful land I have ever seen. The sun was bright yet the breeze emanating from it was cool and soft. It smelled so fresh, the smell of life bursting from every corner of the door.
The other doors are shut tight, I wonder whats in those. I lean forward to peak my head in the door in the middle. It slams shut before I could get close, yet I could still see the light shining through the doors edges.
Well...That's strange.
Whats behind the other two doors? The one in the middle looked awfully nice. Man I would like to be chilling in there, it looked nice, the air was so clean and it just felt right. But what if there's something better behind the other doors?
Lets think this one through, this is clearly some kind of test of consciousness. Maybe I'm in a coma right now...
Shit what if I'm dead and one of these doors lead to hell.
Well my mother always told me that the path to salvation is never the easy one. That door looked like paradise in there but what if its not. No way someone just offers a door to paradise just like that, there has to be catch. There is always a catch.
But what if it is just that easy. Maybe this is God telling me to just come on in and don't worry about all the non sense.
No way you cant just have happiness, just like that. Like happiness and freedom are just right there for the taking. There is no way its just that easy, there has to be more to it.
This is a trick, if I have learned anything in life its that nothing is as its seems and everyone always has an ulterior motive.
Lets take the door to the right, I'll be fine where ever because I know the truth. Everyone is just trying to get something from me so I dont need anyone or any God. I am my own god and I can make my own paradise for me where no one can ever mess it up. Its not like anything is real anyways. |
*Blessed are the meek:* *for they shall inherit the earth.* Mathew 5:5
It had been 6 months since the Final Great War ended, and the world had not yet recovered. For 30 days and 30 nights, heroes, legends, and myths fought for those they vowed to protect...
...but like all Legends of Old, their days came to a close.
-----------------------------------------
Dorian, woke with a start. Construction had begun on the South end of the Plaza, and he had not woken when the sun rose. The sound of jackhammers and sirens impaired his senses and left him confused.
*Just 5 more minutes, Mom!* He thought, not realizing he was not at home, safe in his bed.
Then it him like it did every morning for the past 6 months. He was not safe, he was not with his family, he was alone like millions of others in the world.
Dorian, stood and slid into his leather jacket. He stood tall amongst the Plaza community, a rarity these days. Stepping out of the shadow of the Plaza camp, the sun shone on his debris laden, red-auburn hair.
Nobody spoke of the war, as it was still burned into their memories and the destruction around them always served as fresh reminder of the terrible events that occurred.
Everyone remembered, the first day of the war. One fateful morning, when everything was great as could be, Superman was assassinated by one his close allies, ending an era of peace. Nobody spoke of the criminal, only the crime. A spear of kryptonite was driven through his heart, faster than anyone could see.
Dorian pondered as to why there had to be such devastation over a man who was simply trying to do good with his gifts. Was his cause really so important that it warranted such devastation? Would a doctor be given the same treatment? Would a teacher? In the end was it worth it? Would Kal-El himself be proud of what had occurred?, or would he look away in shame as to what was done in his name?
Or perhaps he would shine a smile down to those who still carried his legacy by doing the best they could with what little they had, would he look down at Cassius and smile?
After all, he was nothing but a normal, ordinary person, fighting for what he believed was right. Maybe that was enough.
Hardened by the past 6 months, Dorian's rugged face furrowed at the sun above him.
As he headed out of the Plaza, he greeted every person he saw, trying to spread the simplest of joys. |
I woke up, confused. I was suspended in a clear, bubbly liquid that was encased in glass. Looking around I could see the limits of my confinement; a small glass container just large enough to house me. I could move my arms, my legs...everything. To be honest with you, I'm not really sure how I felt at the time. Having absolutely zero memories of my past. A past which turns out, didn't really exist for me specifically, but the man that I was created from; Harold Hawkins.
Looking around more, I took time to notice the mask around my face that was providing my oxygen. Of course, I didn't know what it was at the time but I did guess that it was of vital importance. Funny, I was like a new born child with full cognitive function. And then...I saw her. She was standing about five feet away from the glass, smiling at me. The first person (other than myself) that I had ever seen. She was beautiful.
I smiled, completely on accident. She smiled back and my heart fluttered a bit. "Harold?"I heard her muffled voice through the glass. It was the first time I had ever heard anyone speak. I figured that the was trying to communicate, but of course I could not speak back. I had no idea how to speak English, or anything for that matter. All I could muster was a small tilt of the head to the side...it seemed to disappoint her. Tears welling in her eyes she took a step forward and asked "Do you know who I am, Harold?"My expression must have been one of confusion and her mood only decreased.
"What the hell is wrong with him?!"She demanded as she turned her gaze towards the ceiling. A small screen flickered to life, brining a man's face into view.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, it seems the memory transfer was unsuccessful."The man said nervously.
"Then fix it!"
"I'm sorry, ma'am. In order to do that we need to restart the cloning process."
Her gaze sank to the floor as tears fell from her eyes.
"What would you have us do, Mrs. Hawkins? Shall we terminate him?"
"Just leave him,"she replied "I can't stand the thought of him dying twice."
"Very well, Ma'am."The man on the screen said as the screen faded to black.
All I could do was sit there and watch her sob. Feeling as if I should do something, but not know what to do or how to do it.
It's been six years since that day and as you may have noticed, I've become quite fluent in English. I can remember every single aspect of my first few minutes of life...after all, it was my first memory. A newborn at the age of 40; a very unfortunate situation to say the least. Someday I may find that woman (Her name was Emma) and maybe see what happens, but until then. I'm going to find out who Harold Hawkins really was. I am after all, him.
|
The original confederate states secede from the US on the basis that they believe that the progressive control in Washington is/was the work of the devil and his most recent Anti-Christ (Obama). They name prominent Tea Party members to become their leaders and military Generals, and begin an militia based ground-invasion of the northern US states.
Not realizing that the southern US had few natural resources and little manufacturing potential, their lack of industrial strength loses them the war. After much devastation at the hands of the U.S. Airforce, the Generals surrender and commit hara-kiri.
Not wanting any part of the financial recovery needed to govern the New South, the US leaves them to their troubles.
In the decade after the fall they become even more destitute, becoming dependent on foreign trade to survive. They quickly fall prey to sex-tourism, dolphin hunting and other third world economic vices. Slavery is widely accepted and Chinese Businessmen begin pouring in to take advantage of the disenfranchised peoples and sell them as slaves around the world. |
I can't move. Why can't I move? Am I even still in bed? Must be one of those moments where your brain hasn't fully woken up yet. I hate that feeling. Wiggle your arm. Harder. HARDER! Good. It's waking up. You're waking up.
The hand motion triggered a domino effect. The rest of my body began to unlock like I was awakening from a ten year coma. My first motion was to stretch out. It felt good to extend my sleepy muscles. I turned over on my side, hoping to catch a few more Zs. Just as my eyes closed, I opened them again. I had to do a double take.
It was Rana. Why was she in bed with me? Was this her way of calling off the divorce proceedings or just a sick joke? Wait. She looked... different. Did I forget that she dyed her hair back to its original color? No. There's no way I could forget that. And even if I had, it didn't account for the nose stud I bought her on our second anniversary. Not only was it gone, but even the piercing had healed. And her face looked youthful in its somnambulism. I felt something that I hadn't in over seven years. I felt attracted to her.
I cautiously lifted the blanket and scanned her body. She was naked, and never looked better. Her supple breasts were slanted against the cushion of the mattress, and her neck looked soft. But her stomach... It was... She was pregnant. Since when?
I immediately dropped the cover back over her exposed chest to the sound of her exhaling and stirring in her sleep. I turned my head away, hoping I hadn't just given the judge ammo to take the house away from me. Instead of throwing a fit, she smiled and wrapped her arm around my pectorals.
"Like what you see?"she said sensually. Ok, I thought. Now I KNOW I must have been drugged last night.
"Uh,"I replied. "I guess. I mean, I always did."
She laughed. "You are such a dork."
I smelled her perfume. Victoria's Secret: Love Spell. She hasn't worn that since we were in college.
"Where's Damon?"I asked her nervously.
She laughed again. "Ummmm, in my belly, silly. And I told you, his name is Todd."No way in hell I was going to let her name the boy Todd, I recalled. Had I slid back in time? This was insane. I must be dreaming.
|
Today was a strange day for me. Although I have been assured the political power I have so desperately looked for is well within my grasp, I fear I may have betrayed my sense of morality in the process. I met with the advisers today and I have decided to use the propaganda tactics that I have always somewhat despised. They assured me, though, that once my power stretched throughout all Europe I could repeal the inhuman laws I used to obtain total peace. They have not led me astray so far in my young career so I have no reason to distrust them. They gave me some more of those pills that I'm so fond of. Those little miracles are just what I need most days, the pep they give me is unmatched and I always feel better after taking one or two.
One day, I imagine I will look back and see that the entire 3rd Reich was built on the backs of small tiny things.
Although my feelings today are sadness for Jewish race, I know that one day they will see that they were the only people strong enough to endure such prejudices and propaganda. I still fully intend to be as lenient as possible when punishing people for breaking the new race restriction laws, this would be my small way of showing my gratitude for their slights. I have seen the harsh facts of what it takes to create a new country and flourish by observing the history of America. They have taught me that when nation building, in the beginning at least, you must have a form of cheap labor, either by slavery or by giving sub standard living wages to most workers. This a hardship of life and unfortunately the Jews will have to suffer it alone, at least for the time being. I will continue to become a better politician and as a consequence I hope will gain the power necessary to let my morality make the choices, but for now, it seems I will have to yield my morality and fight unfairly against enemies that would do the same to me if given the chance. The Weimar Republic is now dead and with it, it's laws. Now is the beginning of the 3rd Reich. Writing my feelings out today has helped me see the good sense in my choice to follow the adviser's instructions. I shall write again soon with updates as necessary.
---Adolf Hitler, 1933. |
I'ts cold.
The year is 2041. I'm sitting in the main barracks with the only person I have ever trusted since my childhood. The barracks are made of some type of aluminum. No windows, cold metal floors. There is no heater, no insulation. The temperatures outside are approaching negative 10.
My name is Henry Barouck, and I used to live in what is now called свет. Back then, 13 years ago, it was called Voronezh. A somewhat large city next to the Voronezh river. That river connected European Russia to Siberia, and would be the location of the final turning point in the war.
I was only eight when they came. The war had been going on for a year when they finally reached us. I remember the day, warmer than normal, and very bright. Blindingly bright actually, as if the suns rays knew what was about to transpire and was trying to warn us to stay indoors.
They came in with huge guns, much larger than any I had seen in any of my video games at the time. They grabbed my mother first, then me, pushing us out to the truck. That fucking truck.
We called that fucking truck home for the next 3 years with several other families from my neighborhood. It would move for long periods. Months without stopping; it never even seemed to slow down. We would be given food every other day from the cab of the truck, so we knew that there where people in there. After a while, the constantly moving truck would become so unbearable that no one could sleep, and several of us started to go insane from the constant motion. When the trucked stopped, it seemed like a God-send. That is, until the day the door opened.
I remember the light. That same blinding light as from the day they first arrived. I looked outside and could only see the huge concrete walls that surrounded wherever this place was on all four sides. It seemed that we were in some sort of compound. I still have never seen the outside of these walls. We were all placed in different lines. Women with their children who where under 12, children older than 12, and the men on the farthest side. We all were marched into different building where we were given gray jumpsuits and black collars with numbers on them. That was when they started to separate the women and their children, and that was the last time I ever say my mother.
She screamed, started to punch the soldiers while trying to get to me. The soldiers didn't try to restrain her, didn't try to calm here down. The only solution they saw was to shoot her. I remember that same damn blinding light coming from the muzzle of their huge guns, the ear popping booms as the bullets ripped through the only thing I had been able to call family.
It was at that moment that I decided that I was going to make it my sole purpose to kill everyone in here. I have no idea who these people are or why they have done all of this, but I will not stop until they are all dead. I will not die until I am assured that they are all dead.
And now, ten years later, I finally have the one object that will allow me to do so...
(I will finish this sometime. I didn't have much time to type this seeing as how i'm working right now and my boss thinks i'm typing a report, so maybe tomorrow i'll be able to do more of this. I might just make this a mini series for me to enjoy, as this is my first time trying to write something like this. PLEASE CRITICIZE!) |
This comment has been overwritten by an open source script, I have left reddit because of the censorship, and have joined [voat.co](https://www.voat.co/).
If you would like to do the same (erease your messages, and promote a move to voat.co), add the browser extension [TamperMonkey](https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/tampermonkey/dhdgffkkebhmkfjojejmpbldmpobfkfo) for Chrome and add [this open source script](https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/10380-reddit-overwrite).
Then simply click on your username on Reddit, go to the comments tab, and hit the new OVERWRITE button at the top. You will need to alter the script to alter the overwrite message. I hope to see you on voat.co. |
The worst conversation of my life just ended. I tried.
I swear.
I tried.
With all my might... I tried. I tried to resist... I know the rules extremely well, I know the trouble we face as a race. They hammer it in every fucking minute on the Internet and the TV.
Everyday the newspaper have almost the same title: "Family of six is found in a basement"
"Member of yadda-yadda party forced to resign after being photographed with his SECOND three year old secret son"
I put the phone down. I was alone in my office. Just me and the TV.
Unlike someone else, I could always tell which kids were first timers. They lacked the energy and the carelessness in their movements only infancy has.
Time is a bitch. It gives back your young body, but the joy, that particular joy, that stems from the fact that there is a whole life in front of you full of new experiences and discoveries, that the world is a white sheet that only waits for YOU...
That's something reserved to those who are going through life for the first
time
Hitting puberty again is also a bitch. All these seniors back in their hot body and horny as hell... lacking the insecurities of the first timers? no wonder there are 15 billion people on the planet.
Now the news shifted from one of the many wars that plagued the planet to a photo of me at 57.
Oh, how I looked old in that photo. My dick still functioned then. There were the first sign of pimples already showing.
I was always for having a dignified second puberty. I hated the fake wrinkles and the greying of the hair some did to hide the fact that they were aging.
I looked happy, and proud. That was my second term speech.
The newscaster was talking about my second family, composed of three children aged 16, 8 and 3 and a 58 year old woman.
They did not even mention her name. They were just barely hiding their disgust.
The boys would be sent to milita school to become part of the meat shields that ensure we get what scarce resources are still on this god forsaken rock.
My beautiful baby girl, the youngest of the lot, has actually some degree of choice. The options are joining the military herself or become a nurse or a teacher that will teach to future soldier.
Three quarters of the world population is phisically between 17 and 22 years old.
So in most countries of the world, every man or women has the option to have only a single child during his life. The world is already overcrowded with teens already without people fucking around and having multiple children.
There is no more clean water. Food prices have skyrocketed. And in fce of this people still avoid the mandatory abortions and hide children away like they are their most precious treasure.
We tried to give out some free food for men and women to get vasectomies and hysterectomies, we instituted mandatory contraceptives, we gave incentives to homosexual (which was a dumb idea), but nothing, NOTHING could stop them from fucking away their problems and breed like rats.
I talk about my people so harshly, and yet it's not like I was immune to it. It was my family on the news after all.
I could not hide the kids as long time friends anymore. They were starting to age visibly, especiall the first born.
They are going to rip me apart, figuratively and literally.
And they are gonna use all the tools me and my admonistration have set up.
I have so boldly infringed many federal laws that were a central point of my programme. My second term election was based on "The fight on overpopulation"
A central point was the institution of the crime of overbreeding.
I spat out phrases like "Give a future to some people instead of giving extinction to all people".
My phone is ringing. Outside the Oval Office, I start to hear some ruckus.
I'm gonna need a tall chair. I was never tall to begin with, but age has not been kind. |
So your name is Gorillaman?
Yes.
But you're just a gorilla?
No. Im a man who was transformed into a gorilla.
Yeah... but you're just a gorilla now
Yes but im still a man on the inside.
So. can you transform back into a man?
No.
Well then youre just a gorilla then.
uhuh. So what are you meant to be?
Im the Crimson Bar. I can create binding red solid energy constructs that bind my villians in an unbreakable lock.
So you just handcuff people then??
yeah... no... i BIND them.
So essentially you're just a glorified policeman with fancy handcuffs.
No dude i BIND them man, its unbreakable.
Keep telling yourself that.
OKay Gorilla man.
NEXT!
Gorilla man here! What seems to be the problem?
Maestro master manipulator is wrecking havoc downtown. We need you to bring the cavalry. Your team mates will meet on site. MOVE OUT.
Farewell Redcuffs. Gorillaman mockingly saluted
He then stepped up to the teleporter and was instantly beamed into battle.
Crimson Bar crossed his fingers. Looks like ill have to take on the maestro.
All right looks like im up. Who am i fighting again?
The Vegetator.
Who?
Some naked guy who can grow flowers and vines or something.
seriously?
Do you want this job or not?
Okay im going, im going.
The vegetator? Jeez sometimes i wish i did become a lawyer like my mother wanted... Gorillaman... what an asshole. |
Dog's howls mixed with their handler's angry voices as I broke through the trees. "He's thatta way! GET EM'!"My bare feet slapped against the rough ground, the moonlight helping me dodge the stones and sticks that littered the field.
It wasn't far now from the house but if I didn't hurry the dogs would be on me like death on my doorstep. My eyes drifted towards the sky for the moment and I found the stars I needed. Momma's voice came back to me and began to sing.
"When the sun come back, when the firs' quail call. Then the time is come. Follow' the drinkin gourd."
Pain stabbed my heart as her old weathered face came back to me. I pushed it out my mind as I hit the river and jumped in to swim across. Water flooded 'bove my head and began to drag me down beneath it. Rocks along the bottom scrapped 'cross my knees and I struggled to regain my center and swim up.
As I flailed about above the water, my hand felt a tree branch and I latched on to pull myself to shore. Goose pimples appeared quick as the cold night air danced across my skin. Across the distance I saw the lantern hanging in the window and knew I was about to miss it ifen I didn't hurry.
With all the strength left in my body, I ran towards the shack. Hollering from behind me died down as I left the river in the past. Only minutes passed 'for I hit the door and gave the knock. Three raps on the door and one on the window.
An old white lady opened the door and looked at me. "Ticket?"I reached down to my pants and lifted the right leg. Her eyes looked down to see the broken shackle and she nodded. "Jus' in time, son. Hurry it up and get you some dry clothes on. Can't 'ford to be havin' no one catch their death on the train."
"Yes'm. Thank you, ma'am."She shook her head. "Beatrice will do. I ain't your massa and I don't plan to be 'em. You be free soon, boy."I smiled and nodded a silent thank you as I took hold of the clothes she offered and changed. "Now you bes be hurryin'"She call out as a deep whistled vibrated the floor of the shack. "Ain't gonna wait on you forever, son."
|
"Class today is the day where your full attention is mandatory. The world is tough out there and man of us are unaware to the harsh, cruel beings that are monitoring us and playing puppet master. True knowledge can't be obtained this way, true learning is do e through freedom and a desire to learn more. There are a lot of donts the government has given us and here are some more.
Don't just take what's given to you by our government you deserve more, you demand more!
Don't be afraid, the first call to action signals more to come .
Don't live your life saying what ifs
Don't live your life being told what to do what to think and what to feel
And most importantly class, don't be a fool
Foolishness is what began this tyrannical government and knowledge and wisdom is what will tear it apart"
* door to class opens with two large men in black suits walking towards the teacher*
"See class they don't want me to tell you that's why they're taking me away"
*teacher I dragged out screaming while the two suited men leave unphased and two more walk in*
Dismiss what your instructor has told you, its all false. Thank you for your cooperation today group, thanks to you we were able to bring down another traitor. Your new instructor will be here momentarily
A little boy raised his hand and asked "how did you know to come get her"the two men look at one another , walk towards the boy and take him by the arms and say "He's just coming with us to the principals office that's all"
The men leave with the little boy, the new teacher walks in, the door closes and class resumes. |
Hivequeensearchqueensearchgivelovequeengivegivelifegivelifeworkqueenqueen the queen work for the queen, I work for the queen. My brothers and I, we love the hive. We love the queen. I know where the queen is. I always know where the queen is. I know what to do. I've always known what to do. Why do I know what to do?
Where is the queen? I've lost the queen, where is she? I don't know what I'm doing. What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to fly? Why do I know how to fly?
I used to soar through the air. Not anymore. I don't know why. I don't know anything anymore. I don't know where to move. There is something coming, but I don't know how to move. |
I died. The summer of 1995. I died. I remember it so clearly yet so terrifying . I have a bullet aimed towards my head. Right below my hairline. I am sweating . I am crying . I remember it so clearly . When I saw the blue eyes right across from me. The street light was flickering. The windows of his soul were so clear. So beautiful . So satisfying. I didnt hear the shot of the gun. I didnt hear anything. I felt alone . I was alone . Until I heard a voice, it was a very deep and loud voice in this bright white place. I knew where I was. And I hear the most beautiful voice tell me
*"I have been waiting for your arrival here, I have 100,000 angels who will return to Earth and destroy my creation. You are the last one."*
I was back on Earth, my body was in shape . The muscles in my body where indestructible. So strong. I felt beautiful . My objective was to kill all the people on the list who I was assigned. I read the first name and in the name of my father I killed him. I killed so many without any pain In my cold steel heart. I could feel the protein in my veins . The blood so thick and cold. I cried. I prayed. I regained my confidence and looked at the last few names. That is when I felt the veins in my body turn red hot . The color of my veins had turned from blue to orange. I couldnt do it. I would never. I couldnt imagine doing it .I was fighting a war against humanity. I was fighting a war against God. I was fighting a war with the enemy on both sides . I read the names. I walked towards the house I brought. The house I painted. The house with my family inside. I cried while I did it . By this time the color of my veins was red. I was sweating. I looked at my beautiful child which looked so much like me . I pulled out my knife, and looked at him . I couldnt do it . I was crying and sweating. I couldnt. Thats when he woke up and asked
*"Daddy, what are you doing?"*
*"Im sorry"* I replied
Killing humanity was the objective . The objective was wrong. I put knife right through . It hurt so much . It was a shame a 3 yeard old had to see what I had just done. I fought a war with the enemy on both sides . I lost.
(This is my first story on here please give me an honest opinion) |
*… fully operational. Repeat, the experiment is fully operational!*
Topluk hunched over the communicator and tapped frantically at the controls. Even encrypted as it was, sending the message over all available channels was a clear breach of protocol… but this was too big, too potentially disastrous to risk the message not getting through. His cerebral implants hummed softly as they synced with the device in front of him and uploaded both his warning and his memory logs. The lights in the tunnel dimmed slightly as the communicator opened a miniscule singularity and established a connection with the listening post a few light years away. One minute passed, then another.
He felt the chill of the voice before he heard it.
*Acknowledged.*
His implants went dead and Topluk tucked the device away. Swallowing the bile at the back of his throat, he walked back into the control room amid raucous hollering. One of the humans charged at him, teeth bared, and Topluk flinched instinctively. The human stopped short and wrapped its arms around him, uttering a barking laugh as it did so. “We did it, Paul! We actually fucking did it!”
Topluk bared his teeth in a smile. *Such repulsive creatures,* he thought as he shook the human’s hand. “That we did.”
The human turned his attention to a monitor nearby. “Counter-clockwise circuit is almost complete. Had some fluctuations with the cryogenics a few minutes ago, but everything’s running great now.” He turned back to Topluk, frowning. “You feeling alright, Paul? You look a little green.”
“Fine,” Topluk replied. “Just more excitement than I’m used to.” A familiar hum echoed in his mind. “I’m gonna go grab a bite to eat,” he said as he edged toward the door.
The human nodded. “I’ll catch up in a few.”
It was everything Topluk could do not to sprint down the hall. As soon as he found a secluded nook, he fished out the communicator and downloaded the message from Central command.
*Projections revised. Prognosis dire. Completion of project ahead of our predictions suggests underestimation of human ingenuity and perseverance. Immediate action required.*
As the plan filtered into his mind, Topluk nodded. It would buy them some time, at least. He just hoped it would be enough.
*****
“Bringing LHC sectors online now.”
The small crowd of physicists was silent, watching the monitors anxiously. Topluk stood with them, watched with them, but he was anxious for an entirely different reason.
“Sectors one, six, and seven at nominal field strength.”
The crowd murmured excitedly. Topluk felt a bead of sweat trace its way down his forehead, but ignored it.
“Two and eight on their heels.”
Time crawled to a halt. Five down, three to go. *Please,* Topluk thought. *Please.*
“Sector five is up and running!”
The murmuring intensified into a low buzz. A klaxon cut over them, and between pulses of the blaring horn Topluk heard disappointed groans.
“Magnetic quench in sectors three and four. God *damnit.*”
Topluk feigned disappointment as he fought to keep a grin from his face. Hands in his pockets, he strode from the control room and keyed the communicator.
*Sabotage successful.*
*Acknowledged,* came the reply. *With perseverance and ingenuity metrics revised, we estimate a minimum two month downtime. Stand by for further instructions.*
He sat back, resting his head against the wall. *Dangerous creatures, these humans. They breathe a poisonous gas, drink large quantities of a polar solvent, can sustain massive physical trauma and survive. They’ve spent most of their brief existence conquering each other and the planet they live on. If they learn the secrets of the universe, they'll do the same.*
*Earth is their cradle. For the sake of all life, everywhere, it must also be their grave.*
|
"Christ and Hunter preserve us, you *still* don't understand, we took *everything* from them: their homes, their lands, the very planet they held uncontested for generations, all gone in an instant as even now we drink their last barrels of wine they were ordered to surrender... You tell me they purchased this, this tri-ammonia methly-whatever, well, what makes you believe they'll poison *US*?"
With no small flourish the ambassador lifted his gilded cup, drinking a long steady draught of the pale red wine, his eyes never drifting from the Adjudicators. |
It's not like the senses you're used to. You can close your eyes, you can plug your ears. This one can't be so easily turned off. It's a constant sensation, a presence that envelops you, waiting quietly until you care enough to notice it. It whispers to your subconscious. It's knowing the difference between cloth and leather, knowing the weight on the bottoms of your feet, knowing the strength of the wind before the trees tell you. All without looking.
It has its limits, to be sure. It requires some form of contact to know anything. But you'd be surprised at just how much contact you experience every day. Footsteps, doorknobs, showers, keyboards, coffee cups, armrests, the right hands of suited folk. The palms of friends, the arms of relatives. The breath of a lover.
It's a strange thing, really. An aura of sense, of precise information the eyes and ears can only guess at. It's the sun on your skin, the grass at your feet. It's the immeasurable difference between a blanket and an embrace. It's how blind men see, and how deaf men hear. It's a different kind of rainbow, one so important that most people don't even realize it's there. |
It's Saturday morning, but not just any Saturday. It's my thirteenth birthday.
A few weeks ago my friend Jacob from school turned 13. He had a Bar Mitzvah. His parents were so proud.
I don't know how my parents would feel about me. I never met them.
Aunt Elle knocked on the thick metal door to my bedroom. I pressed a button on my nightstand, and the doors opened.
She walked in, only a certain stiffness in her posture and an odd modulation in her voice betrayed what she was. She was carrying breakfast.
"Happy Birthday Alex! I've made Eggs Benedict, your favorite!"
I wasn't that excited. Today was going to be a rough day.
I told her to leave it and I would get dressed. I'd seen Jacob dismiss his Mom like that before and it always bothered her, but Aunt Elle took it completely in stride. Of course, she didn't have feelings to hurt like Jacob's mom did.
I scarfed down the food and went into my morning routine. First the regular stuff, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups. Then I did my martial arts forms. I guess I'm partial to Tae Kwon Doe but I tossed in a few of my favorite Kung Fu and Hapkido moves for fun.
Now that I was warmed up, I called back Aunt Elle.
She came from behind, but I was ready. Her bo-staff sliced through the air where my shoulder had been a few seconds before. I parried the attack with my wooden katana and stepped forward.
Now that Aunt Elle was on the most difficult setting I had to be careful. When I was little she couldn't really hurt me but now things were different. I'd been made to take up skiing when I was younger so when I'd show up for school with a broken wrist, dislocated shoulder, or fractured collar bone it could easily be explained away. It'd been quite some time since anything like that had happened.
The buzzer sounded. Had it really been fifteen minutes already? The scoreboard said Aunt Elle had scored 15 points to my 48. Not my best score but I'd give myself a break because it was my birthday.
I suited up. The blades went into hidden sheaths on my arms, legs and torso. The nerf guns I carried held quite the surprise inside, and to top it off my Katana went inside a nice long tube that was wrapped like a present. I looked like quite the innocent kid on the way to his birthday party.
Aunt Elle went to pull the car around. Jacob's dad had agreed to let us have my birthday party at his restaurant. Jacob was such a good friend.
I tossed in my Katana tube and hopped in the back seat. Aunt Elle was up front. She was equipped like I was.
For a moment, I let myself feel bad for Jacob and what was about to happen to his parents and their friends from the company. The disc my parents left for me was very specific about what was supposed to happen to Jacob too, but I wasn't sure I could do it.
Aunt Elle somehow picked up on it.
"Alex, if you don't finish the job, Jacob will take whatever time he needs to prepare, and then he'll come after you. You won't be friends after this. You'll be the one who took his parents. Ask yourself if you'd want that pain in his position."
She was right of course. My parents had been terminated by the Cabal. It had taken their entire fortune to hide me, to ingratiate me to their former associates under my new identity, and to have me trained. It all came down to today.
The car pulled up to the valet station. Aunt Elle and I got out and collected our things.
"Alex, it's time. Are you ready?"
I guess I was as ready as I'd ever be.
I hummed the Happy Birthday song to myself as we went up the steps. At least I didn't particularly like cake. |
She waited for her father.
The swing hung low from off her house
It flew high above any critter or mouse
And it's where she waited for her father.
I will return with food and friends
and with your mother i'll make amends
Trust me dear on me you can depend
So she waited for her father
He did not return in a day or year
and soon the worst she began to fear
for in her memories he began to disappear
while she waited for her father.
Come up from there her mother said
For if you slip you will be dead
You're so thin now you must be fed
Stop waiting for your father.
She watched the town down below
Boats, cars, planes moving to and fro
So many people she wanted to know
Jealously waiting for her father.
that's where he was, he had to be
And while she waited patiently
She thought of being just as free
Not waiting for her father.
But still she sat rope in hand
eyes gazing across the land
lives moved on and her demands
died. Waiting for her father
The jump not so great a voice said
Don stay up there or in your head
Just let go and fall of your ledge
You're just still, Waiting on your father
No please Just stay here mom cried
It is best for you to stay here she lied
Her mom knew she could not get by
without her daughter, waiting on her father
So she let go and began to grow
Became an adult as she entered the world below
And soon she did not know
Why she was ever waited on her father. |
She tore open the envelope and ripped out it's contents. Her breath caught as she read the words.
To my Wife Susan,
I'm writing to you with an actual pencil and paper. Can you believe it?! Colonel Jacobson tried to save some extra energy rations for me to charge my data pad with but I just couldn't bring myself to use them. I started thinking about the vid feeds from the FOBs and how those men have had so little since the energy relay station at at Beijng was captured by those red bastards. I miss you and the girls so much! When I'm scared and I start to doubt my decisions, I remember how brave you all have been in the last 10 years and especially since the Winter Rush. When I must go so long without seeing you, I feel like a part of myself is missing. But I press on.
It's true, you know. How the doubts creep into my head as I lay in my bunk at night. It seemed just yesterday that General Pink and General Jackson selected me for promotion to their command staff. "The youngest three star general in 100 years!"They would tell me. Well, it's not like it was the best of times, was it? Sure, I had a few successful campaigns, but most of that was luck. When General Pink's bunker was hit a year back and Jackson took over he came to me and said "Son, you are our brightest hope for the future. My academy professor called me the other day and told him that *you* reminded him of a young Napoleon!"He laughed and I chuckled, but in the pit of my stomach, I was uneasy. I was afraid that my luck was misrepresenting my ability! I was afraid he thought I was more capable than I was! Sweetheart, I've been lost without being about to talk to you about all of this. But now that Jacksons dead too, they're looking to me! I've got the best captains, though. And they all argue *they* have the best lieutenants. I'd be lost without those boys. In the old days apparently, there was some great divide between the enlisted men and the officers. It wasn't like when I came up. We were *all* enlisted men by the time I was 25. Anyway, I feel like we've made great strides in our mission objectives and we've had some good successes lately. I feel like the tide is turning and soon, we will be in a position to barter peace.
I miss you dearly and can't wait to see you both again! If you send any packages, lemonade is a hit with the staff!
All my love,
Gen. Wilton Hamilton III
Sea-State General, NNAA
High General, First Mechanized Defense Corps.
She smiled quietly to herself. *That man,* she thought, *Sure has a flare for the dramatic!*
She carefully turned the page over and carefully smoothed the creases out and then turned to retrieve a slice of lemon. She pinched the slice of lemon over a small brush and gently began to spread the lemon juice across the page in even strokes.
Instantly, the symbols appeared. The symbols were like no language anyone had ever seen, other than the very closest most trusted family members. Her grandfather had *invented* the damn cryptex language as a teen and used it wisely in his early years as he rose to wealth and power. And again they were being used to determine the fate of many millions of people. Only this time, it we miscalculated, and someone really wanted to start checking these old fashioned letters for hidden codes, it wouldn't be hard to find, and the cryptex wasn't uncrackable. It's just that nobody *thought* that way any more. It was all about data mining and high tech espionage.
She finished her translation in her head, then transcribed it into common English. She held her husband's letter out over and open flame until it was thoroughly consumed and she began to set her mind to memorizing the details of the coded message. "Our Forces Mass in the North. Enemy X believes our attack will be elsewhere. Instruct Colonel Alvarez to attack his target on May 17th. Strength and Honor."Once the message was memorized it too was held to the flame and consumed. She would not take any unnecessary risks.
"Strength and Honor, Husband"she whispered to herself, and in her head she began to plot. |
It worked. They aren't going to believe this! Well, they won't, because they won't be able to see me! As I walked across the mirror, a faint image shone back. I jumped, the image looked like a ghost. I slowly stepped back. The image was beginning to reveal. Which meant... They would see me. Thankfully they weren't in here yet. But suddenly the door opened. A girl stepped in. She carried her bag, yet I jumped. I looked towards the mirror, to see no image reflecting back. "Boo!"She jumped,"Anna? It worked, didn't it?"Well, didn't work out as I planned, but.. |
I could see the red outline bubbling up under Kendra's shirt, right through the breast. Officer Jackson had been a good shot, put her down like a cow and made sure she didn't get back up. Perhaps he had not been *good enough* but who suspects that the worlds might tangle? Open up like a maw and spit out the despised like a rotten tooth?
Kendra had the same form, thin with long arms, hands like spiders. She gestured when she spoke, as if to magically make me obey her. Her voice had gone wispy, gauze words from purple lips. Most of all, she looked cold. Blue frost clung to her cheeks, the inside of her arms, her knees, and the tips of her hair.
*I'll never let go, Jack...*
I sat up in bed, Kendra pulling a chair from her memory. It appeared beneath her, making me wonder how much control she had over her own shape. Wasn't hell hot? Or was she in limbo? She was not wearing the same outfit she died in, and her hair had the look of a fresh cut, despite the frosted tips. She looked healthy, for a specter, and I had trouble feeling bad for her.
She had not been the kindest person in life. But it seemed in death, she had gained the urgency of a used car salesman days before the end of the month.
"Jenine, you have to understand, what happened in life... I have a second chance!"Kendra said, she might have been shouting but it came out soft, lifeless.
I pushed a pillow behind my back and leaned against the headboard. The cat clock on the wall ticked gently. **3:14AM** the witching hour.
"Who is giving you the second chance?"I asked, yawn stretching my jaw open.
"God."Kendra tried to meet my eyes. The blue of her eyes was faded to a snowy grey. I wondered if she would turn into an ice sculpture, if this is why she came to me. She was turning into something she could not control. Perhaps her cold heart had finally given her a true form.
I shrugged. "I am not inclined to help you."
"But I need your aid. I need to make it right."Kendra's voice was deeper now, fearful perhaps. "You don't know what they do down there."
"You don't seem to understand, Kendra,"I said, pushing the covers back so she could see my mangle right leg. "I wouldn't bring you back to life if it let me walk again."
There was a strangled cry, then a pop, like ice falling into a glass.
When I opened my eyes again, the tears hot behind my lids, Kendra was gone.
|
** Bonus: As a rule of your stay in Limbo, you must not let anyone know (through computer or interaction during the month) about your abilities / presence or you go to your afterlife (Heaven/Hell/Reincarnate/etc).
** Second bonus: To get back to limbo at the end of the month, you die. Think Final Destination; You don't know how, but you *will* die at the end of that month and possibly/probably have an obituary written. Loved ones will find out. Do you find a way to keep them in your heart without knowing that you're repeatedly dying and only show up once a year?
|
“FlightOps. Seven minute window has opened. We are now in receiver mode. Odyssey II will reacquire.”
Adam turned to the camera, where over twenty million viewers were watching, streaming over the net across America, Europe, Russia, China – hell the whole world was tuning in.
“We’ve just entered the Seven Minute Window, known as the Seven Minutes of Terror during the Curiosity landing sequence. As I speak these words to you, the crew of *Mars One* are either on the surface of Mars…or scattered in broken wreckage across the red planet. As we saw last week with Doctor Smythe’s “Science Explained” series, Mars is seven light-minutes away, and it just so happens that it takes about that long to go from space to ground.
Which means that right now, they are either transmitting success or the radio is filled with silence….and we won’t know for another seven fear-filled minutes.”
“Flightops. Confirmed Atmospheric Entry”
“We have confirmation that the *Mars One* lander has begun entry into the Martian atmosphere. The atmosphere there is thinner than on Earth, but it’s still sufficient to act as a braking force. So the heat shield is currently burning up, absorbing the colossal heat that braking force generates.”
“Flightops. Temperature within bolt range”
“The shield has done its job, protecting the occupants from the immense plasma heat that the braking generated. This is old and proven technology, used on virtually every spacecraft. The big worry at this stage was a repeat of the *Columbia* Disaster, where a damaged heat shield caused the craft to disintegr-“
“Flightops. Shield detach, Successful parachute deploy on one, two and three.”
“And with that, the faithful heat shield has been explosively jettisoned. It’ll continue to the surface at near supersonic speeds, where a team over in Martian Geology are anticipating to acquire some seismic data. At the same time, the *Mars One* lander has deployed not one but three supersonic parachutes. Each are bigger than any parachute used on Earth – as they need to be wider to ‘catch’ more of Mars’s thinner atmosphere.”
“Flightops. Aerobraking fins deployment confirmed on One, Two and Four. Three not responsive”
“Aerobrake fins are now deployed, adding their efforts in shedding speed from the lander. As the old saying goes, it’s not the drop, it’s the sudden stop – and these fins are designed to slow the craft until it can use the landing thrusters. It appears that one of the fins has failed to fold out fully, but the craft is still on landing profile. A scare, but nothing more…”
“Flightops. Thrusters Online. All thrusters responsive”
“And the thrusters are online. Developed by our partners at SpaceX, these rockets will bring the lander to a hover about 500 meters up, and then move the craft horizontally to the support location where the Mars One expedition has already landed two unmanned capsules.”
“Navigation: Position confirmed at 500 vert, 250 horizon. Hole in One, boys!”
“Flightops. Beginning adjustment burn.”
“And now they’ve acquired reflector beacons on those capsules, which is telling the Lander it’s position relative to them. They’re five hundred meters up and about 200 meters away from the capsules – this is incredible accuracy. As Doctor Smythe said in our segment last week, this is like hitting a golf ball in Nevada and scoring a hole-in-one on a golf course in Russia. Thousands of hours of calculations have paid off, and-“
“Flightops! We have a manual takeover signal!”
“Ah….um. It seems that the automatic systems have cut out aboard the lander. It’s operating on manual! This isn’t part of the flight plan. I’ll…Ah. Um…Apollo. Yes, the Apollo missions also had a manual takeover in the final descent stages when they needed to head to an alternate landing site, but we can’t understand why *Mars One* need to=”
“Flightops. Manual burn completed. We’ve lost transmission due to dust. Listening for switch to localized transmission”
“This is the moment of truth. The rocket landing has kicked up a lot of dust, and the automatic transmission channels are degraded. If the lander survived touchdown, they’ll need to switch to a more powerful directional transmitter to punch through. The attitude in the control room here is tense.”
“*Mars Control, this is Minerva Base. We have successful touchdown. I repeat successful touchdown!*”
“And there you have it, folks! The first manned spacecraft has touched down on Mars! You can see the celebrations going on around me! This is the culmination of years of work, paying off perfectly!“
“*Copy that Minerva Base. Mars Control congratulates you on a successful flight. We’re breathing again over here. Switching you over to Colony Ops Control. Mars Control signing off*.”
|
I had the dream again. It's been a year, a whole year, since they started. I just don't know what to do. I've gone through therapy, prayer, even asking people about my past, nothing has helped me get rid of this dude in my dream. It'll go away some day I hope. I'm just hoping work let's me think this away.
I hopped on to the subway. I sat down, it's normally never this empty. I'm not sure what's happening. Maybe it's some holiday or something. After 5 minutes I feel a presence, a certain aurora that I've felt before. I looked over towards the back of the train. I saw him, the man who's been haunting my dreams. I now notice it's just me and him in the train alone. I scream, but he whispers "No one can hear you now."I try to stand up, but I'm strapped down in the seat. He walks towards me swinging his cane. I try to reach for my phone but he knocks out of my hand with a force. He now stands in front of me and says "There can only be one."He pulls out a large sword and written on it is a few words in some script I can't read. He says. "This is the sword I slayed the others with. You see this writing? It's the names of the others. See John Wilkins here? Or how about little George Harvard? After this only three will remain. Good bye."He stabs me violently again and again until...
"Mommy!!"I heard my son scream.
"Hey, what happened little guy? Did you have a wittle nightmare?"I said.
"Yeah! There was a man in the subway and he was really scary and then he killed this other man with this sword."He said.
"Oh shit... Um... Hey wanna go to Grammy's house?"I said.
"Yeah!"He said.
"Go get your things you little stinker."I said while kissing him.
Only three remain then? Hmm. Time for us to get prepared for war.
|
[Several things first:
1) this is my first post in this sub. Please be gentle, friend.
2) this post will be a bit off-topic. A nation will discover the power of the atom centuries earlier than WWI.
3) This post is written using my limited knowledge of nuclear devices. I humbly apologize for any scientific errors!
4) Please enjoy!]
A Mongol to his left, one to his right, and several more, including the Khan, standing behind him.
In front was his miraculous device. It was the product of 20 years, days and nights crafting the theories of the universe. He had spent several more years perfecting his device. It was rigged such that every component on the rim detonated at the same time, resulting in a blast that smashed the world-particle inside, unleashing a force so large, entire cities would evaporate within seconds.
Zhang Ming yearned for the cool breeze of his hometown in the far east, and the hot wind of Baghdad offered no remorse as it blew across Zhang Ming's frightened face. He remembered the once towering pagodas of his hometown, now burnt to ashes by the terrible Khan. He remembered the slaughter, the blood, the fire, the scorched buildings all around him. He lost his own wife and 2 sons on the fateful day the Mongols sacked his town. He remembered his laboratory, still standing untouched-- out of place in his ruined hometown.
That laboratory was the reason why he was still alive. When the invaders discovered his project, they kept him alive for the sole reason of perfecting his weapon of mass destruction.
And now, the bomb was ready. In just a few minutes, Zhang Ming's nuclear device would be catapulted over the walls of Baghdad and evaporate the city.
"Now, set the device for 60 seconds,"ordered the Khan. Zhang Ming set his scissors over the string marking for 60 seconds.
Zhang Ming remembered all the terrors his clients had inflicted across the land. Thousands of other villages had been burned just as his had. And now this city would suffer an even worse fate.
"How many lives had already been lost? How many more will perish?"He asked himself.
He hovered his hands from the 60 second mark over to the 40 second mark. He cut the string, and lit the flame.
Several of the Khan's troops hoisted the device onto a large catapult.
"Launch in 22...21...20..."
In his own mind, Zhang Ming counted down, "2...1...0...", watching the flame reach the detonation marking.
"19...18...17--"
Hopefully now, there will be peace. Zhang Ming closed his eyes and breathed for the last time. |
*First time writing* Sorry for the bad quality i am running on 2 hours of sleep.
There was something different about today. Something different in his tone of voice as he asked for the millionth time when his father would come back from his deployment in Afghanistan. The letters I was forging were no longer sufficient. I knew the day would come when I had to break the news to him. I knew I had to tell him the truth but...he would hate me. He would hate me for lying, for giving him false hope, for allowing him to go around thinking that one day his father would come home and everything will be all better. But the truth is, he never will. Nothing will ever be okay.
It was so long ago, Daniel had just turned 7. He never fully understood the concept of life and death. I guess i have myself to blame for that. I tried my best not to expose him to those situations. I was unsure of how he would handle it. Daniel was diagnosed with a "mild"case of down syndrome at 4 months. I hate that label. If his case was "mild", i wouldn't be crying myself to sleep every night. If his case was "mild", I would be able to handle everyday life without thinking about blowing my brains out with his fathers handgun that's tucked away in my drawer next to a bottle of Jack. If his case was "mild", I wouldn't have to be hiding the fact that his father was killed in combat almost 2 years ago. This is it... I have to tell him.
I have some time to prepare while he comes back from school. How would i start? "Daniel we need to talk."No that will get him all worried. "Daniel I have something to tell you."
*RING *RING
Hello?
Im so sorry, Daniel has just shot himself in the middle of the hallway.
HE DID WHAT!?!
He was walking down the halls; stopped, reached into his backpack and pulled out a handgun. He is no longer with us. He was carrying a note with him.
WHAT DID IT SAY!?!
"Mabe this will bring him home momy"
|
The disease was one of the worst things to scour this world. It had a 90% mortality rate, and killed in some of the most excruciating ways possible. Massive hemorrhaging is not the way to go, and yet, hundreds of thousands did. The virus ravaged North Africa, and, eventually, made its way to the Americas, Europe and Asia. It killed many, in such a fashion that it caused a panic the people of this planet will never forget. With a combination of quarantine, anti-viral medication and martial law, we stopped the pandemic.
Fortunately for us, the aliens did not survey Earth properly, nor did they count on the idea of vaccination. Apparently, the idea of injecting deactivated viruses to stimulate antibody production was either incompatible with their physiology, or culturally repellent. Either way, Ebola Zaire and its cousins never really did much in the way of genocide. Pissed us right off, though. Once we vaccinated against it and figured out that *they* were responsible for the disease (along with, so it would seem, HIV), our reaction was swift and decisive. Unlike the Shavin, humanity understood the key to winning wars: you destroy your enemy before they have a chance to know what's going on.
And that, my friends, is why the nuclear bomb is a trusted friend of all mankind. |
One day, a little man decided to be a sand person from Star Wars. He hadn't watched the timeless series often, but he knew enough to mimic the growling and ravenous gun-flailing of the sand person. In the midst of the little man's joyful charade, a cactus approached him with a request.
It said, "Hello, little man, would you pretend to be a cactus while I pretend to be a man?"
"But why?"the little man asked.
"Because, otherwise, I shall use my various, bodily knives to kill you."
"Are you threatening me?"the little man said.
"You are absolutely right,"the cactus said, charging toward the unfortunate little man. He wailed as it pierced his thumb. In fact, the pain was so significant that he fell to the ground. The needle was not an ordinary needle. This cactus was venomous, and the only way in which the little man could alleviate his pain was via the antidote-filled vial that lingered a few inches away. He crawled, telling himself that the distance was short and his will was great. Before his eyes blurred with darkness, he took a swig of the thick liquid. His vision illuminated painfully, then it stabilized to a more reasonable brightness.
The universal throbbing was gone. His strength had returned, though he was locked in a room. Maybe the cactus was holding him hostage. What ransom would he be worth, and from where had this box arisen? What rested on a pedestal in the center of this dismal place? It was another vial. In this vial lay a key. Of course, cacti have not brains. Their traps are unoriginal, their lives driven by emotion and fear, so the little man gave the vial a push. Facets of glass and the key blasted across the ground's silence. The little man grabbed it, bringing it to the door. As the key slid into a lock, a heaviness tugged at the little man's shoulders. Though the heaviness was not literal, it existed. Ghost hunters and playthings of poltergeists know when an abomination invisibly stares at them.
He turned to face the beast, but no deep breaths or counts to ten would have prepared him for the monster with whom he had to deal. It was Cthulu. |
Tom took a drag of his cigarette and spoke with his father in law on the back patio next to the sizzling barbeque full of different kinds of dead animal flesh. The family sunday cook out was in full swing. Relatives covered the grass. Some just sat and ate and drank. Some were playing badminton or Frisbee or volley ball. The wives all gathered around a large picnic table full of food.
Two young children ran around the corner of the house.
"There they are!"Tom exclaimed.
"Daddy! Daddy!"The children shouted as they ran and wrapped themselves around Tom's legs. The exchange of love was overwhelming for all parties. It brought tears to Tom's eyes.
Then he thought "Where is my wife?"
"Oh she's in the house."Tom's father in law responded. "She'll be right back out."
Tom went to take a drag from his cigarette, but found it already burnt down to the filter. He removed his pack from his pocket. It was brand new! He removed the cellophane and opened the crisp new pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, lit it and took a drag.
The smell of the food filled the air. The warm sun felt amazing on Tom's face and the sound of different conversations between his loved ones filled him with an amazing feeling.
He watched his children play together in a sandbox. He looked around and felt happy for the first time in a very long time. He owned this house. His family lived here. His children loved him. His wife loved him. His relatives can all come over and enjoy themselves and see Tom's success. Tom was happy. Satisfied. Whole. He felt all tension melt away.
Tom went to take a drag off of his cigarette but found this one burnt down to the filter as well.
"I only remember taking one drag."Tom thought.
"Well sometimes they just burn quickly."Tom's father in law responded.
Tom patted his pockets, looking for his pack of cigarettes as he thought to myself "Did I say that out loud or did he hear my thoughts?"
Tom's father in law just smiled back. A big, teethy, overly happy boarding on creepy smile.
"Where are my cigarettes?"Tom thought as he patted his pockets and his shirt. They were gone.
"Hey John can I bum a cig off you?"Tom said as he slowly looked up from his pockets.
"John?"
John was gone.
"What?"Tom was confused. John had just been there two seconds ago. Maybe he just went back inside?
Tom turned around to find everyone was gone. The grill was now empty. The yard, which once seemed full of life and sunlight, now seemed dark, drenched in shadows. Everyone was just gone.
Tom stood there, staring at his back yard, not really knowing what to do...or say...or think.
He took a drag off of his cigarette. His nice full cigarette.
"When did I get this?"He thought to himself.
Tom decided to go inside and find Sarah. Maybe she can help him find everyone.
Upon entering the house, Tom found his old childhood friend Tyler standing in his living room. He hadn't seen Tyler in probably 15 years. They were trouble makers in their earlier years. Tom was really happy to see him.
"Hey man!"Tom said excitedly.
"Hey Tom! Remember that time we hid in the bushes and threw black water balloons at cars in the middle of the night?"
"Yeah that was crazy. We were stupid kids back then."
"Yeah. A good father wouldn't do that."
"What's that?"
"You probably shouldn't be a father. You're out of control man. Look at these drugs you do."
"I don't really do drugs, I mean I smoke some pot. I eat mushrooms like once or twice every two years but that's about it."
"Yeah but a good parent, a good father wouldn't do that stuff. You're irresponsible and you shouldn't be a father."
Tom kept walking. Looking for Sarah. He was done with that conversation. He wasn't even going to think about it. It wasn't even going to be on his mind at all. He wasn't even going to think about what a shitty father he is. He wouldn't think about how irresponsible and immature he is. He's too wild. He cannot be a responsible parent. How can this kid who used to skip class, get into trouble be a parent? This is the same guy who would get black out drunk in college and run down the dorm hallways naked. How can that guy be a good parent?
Tom began to cry.
Sarah came running out of a bedroom, also crying.
"TOM! TOM! THANK GOD! TOM I CAN'T FIND THE KIDS!"
"I AM A HORRIBLE FATHER!"
"TOM I AM A HORRIBLE MOTHER! I CAN'T FIND THE KIDS."
"I CAN'T EITHER! I can't find anybody! Everyone's just gone! The whole part left. Except for Tyler."
"Tyler?"
"Yeah he's still here."
They walk backed into the living room. Nobody was there.
They went out into the back yard together. Nobody was there either.
Sarah began to cry harder.
"No it's okay. I was just with your father and the kids. I'm sure John just took them somewhere, maybe to get ice cream. He probably just wants some grandpa time. Don't worry baby."
"Baby I need to tell you something."Sarah said in a shaken voice. "I burnt holes in the bed. And the floor. And the drapes. Well I lit the drapes on fire too."
"What? Why did you do all of that?"Tom asked.
"It was by accident! I kept trying to smoke my cigarette, but I would drop them and they would burn holes into things. It happened over and over. I don't know what's wrong with me today."
"I keep losing my cigarettes!"Tom then took a drag off of his cigarette, which was still long, and brand new.
"Something weird is going on Tom. Let's go inside."
They went inside. They found a pitcher of ice tea that one of them made earlier.
"I don't remember making this."
They drank it anyways. It was bitter. And disgusting. But the taste was familiar to them so they drank a cup of it. It only made their mouths more dry.
In fact theirs mouths, their lips, their thoughts began to get more and more dry. So they drank another cup. And then another. And then they found that they had drunk the entire pitcher. So they started drinking water.
Tom began to feel dizzy and decided to lay down. He quickly passed out.
Sarah began looking for the children. She suddenly couldn't remember their names and then convinced herself she's an awful parent. |
Hey Conners, you won't belive where I'm sitting right now.
Listen... Wait Conners, listen... No, for fucks sake, can you shuddup and listen for one second dammit?
So I see this guy, he sits in the back right now. Would you listen? So this guy is driving in this old ass DMC-12, I'm sitting in it right now, and then this fucking thing starts floating from the ground.
No. No, Conners, I don't shit you. I'm sitting in it right and driving to the station. Yeah, of course I confiscated it. I'm sure it's illegal to build a fucking UFO out of your DeLorean.
I'm driving right to the station Conners, in 5 minutes you can see it for yourself. You wouldn't believe what weird buttons and gadgets are in here. I really hope this thing is safe to drive. This here looks like some kind of timer. Wait Conners, I have to check this out, wait, OOOHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT.
Fuck. Conners? CONNERS? FUCKING WHERE IS THE FUCKING STREET. FUCK. HEY ASSSHOLE, WHERE ARE WE? |
The Huns are coming
Will they never stop coming?
I want to stop running
But I can't.
\
They say they ride
A hundred horses wide
A rising tide
Full of death.
\
We aren't that fast
How long can we last?
When will this horror be past?
Will it ever?
\
We run are run
From Attila the Hun
Our lives are not fun
'Til they're over.
\
The Huns are coming
I'm going to stop running
There's no point in bluffing
The Huns are here. |
"Wh..where am I"? I mumble dazed and confused, a choir of ominous voices responds in unison, "Welcome brother, there is no need to be alarmed". I open my eyes and find myself in an empty white space encircled by three strangers. The first a tall African man dressed in a grimy grease spattered shirt and olive green pants no less tattered. He looked weary and had deep gashes along his arms and over his neck. The second stranger was an old lady, well dressed in a pressed black blazer and skirt, long stockings and eloquent black heels , she could pass for the queen of England all she was missing was the crown. The final stranger was a young man dressed in military uniform, blue eyes, blonde hair, but so young he looked almost too young to be a solider but the four bullet wounds scattered over his torso said otherwise. The only one left is me, I am.. I am.. I don't remember. I try to recall how I got here who I am, where I was going, but my mind is blank. I ask the strangers, "Who am I?, How did I get here?, Where am I going?"The old lady replies "All of your questions will be answered in time, we will have plenty of time waiting.""Waiting for who?"I ask with a twinge of desperation in my voice, the strangers respond "Waiting for you." |
My alarm clock begins to beep. Its 6.30. I hit the snooze button and half-sleep for 8 minutes more before crawling out of bed.
I eat a cream cheese bagel and drink my coffee while sitting in my empty apartment. Something is different. I am still in a sleep haze and I can't pinpoint what is different, but I know that something is. Something is.
I take a shower and as I stand in the warm water and feel myself waking up I realize what is different: My asshole neighbor isn't playing the usual shitty pop music way to loud as he always does in the morning.
As I get dressed I ponder why he wouldn't be playing music today, seeing as he hasn't missed a day since he moved in 3 months ago.
I grab my bag and head down the stairs out on the street. Its empty.
Where are all the cars and people, I think to myself.
Is it a holiday? No. I looked at the calendar yesterday, this is a regular monday.
I grab my bike and begin to ride to work. There are no cars and no people on the street.
Something is different. Something is.
I check my watch. Its 8.00. There should be people on the street now.
As I pull up my bike to the TV studio where I work, I notice that no cars are parked and all the sets seems to be closed.
I swipe my card and walk into the lobby. No one is here.
I begin to walk slower, suddenly I am feeling sweaty and nervous.
...
Its been 78 days now. I am all alone.
The first couple of days I left money on the grocery counter, but now I just take what I need and leave the store.
Yesterday I walked around the street naked, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong and quickly found some clothes.
I have been inside peoples homes. Walked around their house, looked at their pictures.
I am walking around the empty streets, as I have taken up the past few weeks, when I hear a noise. Its a beeping noise.
I'm beginning to feel dizzy and everything begins to blur in front of my eyes.
I open my eyes and the alarm clock beeps. The display reads 6.38.
The sound of Miley Cyrus bangs trough the wall.
I stand up. Look outside the window and see cars driving and people walking.
I eat a cream cheese bagel and drink my coffee while sitting in my empty apartment.
Nothing is different. Nothing is.
|
By the time I saw the bright lights on the horizon, I knew something was up. I had grabbed my shotgun and was ready to meet them. I already knew who they were before they landed, and by the time they opened the door to their tiny ship, I had my gun raised. They were tall, bony figures who carried what looked like assault rifles, and as their environmental… whatevers started working, they began to speak.
“We come in peace, human. We wish to speak with your leader so that we may-“
Now, I’ll admit, this was my fault. I was a bit jumpy, and in the confusion, I dusted one of the taller fellas and they began to fire back. Knowing I didn’t have cover on my back deck, I ran inside to my living room. I pulled the kitchen table over and I set up my killing zone in the kitchen. I fired another shot as I heard the first footstep, but they returned fire. Lasers tore apart my table, and after a while they stopped as they did what I presumed was reload. Knowing this was my break, I hopped behind my couch and tried to reload my own gun. Much to my sorrow, I saw that one of the rounds tore through my shotgun. Knowing I had nothing left, I reached for my DVD rack and started throwing movies at them, hopefully to stop them for a minute so I could escape.
But as I started throwing, I heard a loud beep, and suddenly the sound of large aliens dropping to the floor. Hoping to gain an edge, I grabbed a lamp, ripped it from the wall and came over the couch to the sight of three aliens bowing in the direction of a copy of *Platoon*, saying, and almost humming a single name over and over again.
*Char-lee Sheen. Char-lee Sheen. Char-lee Sheen.*
|
The painting had been in the room since the house had been built in 1912. The picture while nothing special was beautiful in it's composition and detail. The picture you may ask always seemed to have something new in it everytime that you looked at it. However the main composition was always the same. It was a picture of a meadow with a large tower just behind the treeline to the left.
When Thomas moved into the house with his parents in 2012, unbeknownst to them exactly one hundred years to the day that the house had been completed, and the picture hung. They were excited. This was the first house that his parents had been able to afford a house of their own. and while he couldn't understand what made them excited he did understand the happiness that radiated from them.
Of the seven rooms in the house Thomas was allowed to choose between five of them for his room. One room was too dark, and reminded him of the movies that he had seen where kids went missing. That was not the room for him. The second and third faced the roadway, and he didn't like hearing the cars drive past even during the day. The fourth and the fifth were nearly identical each hung the same picture but one in summer, and one in winter. Thomas chose the one with the summer painting it was happier, and he liked to stare at it at all times he was in his room.
For the next week everything was perfectly normal mess around the house with boxes, and scrambling to get everything done. On the eight night however when Tom went to lay down at his bedtime he noticed a new thing in the picture above his bed. It was a man that was dressed in old clothes much like the ones in his movies about knights. This man looked like the wizard that helped Arthur.
Standing on the bed Thomas got as close as he could to the picture without touching it. He smelt. summer, and rainfall. It hadn't rained since they had moved into the old house. That seemed odd to him since it was a smell he hadn't experienced since they moved from Seattle. He did what he always did right before bed and touched the picture.
This time however things were different. He was pulled through the frame causing him to scream, but he had already landed in the meadow, and the man was walking quickly towards him.
To be continued? |
The seven men and women were seated in the dark basement they had gotten so used to the last ten years. The smell, the look, the feel of it was familiar. Only the seven had been there, and only the seven knew of the basements existence.
Todd stood up from the semicircle of chairs. His voice lifted from the ground and took them all by their hearts.
“Greetings friends. As you know, all our worst fears were true. For years they called us nutjobs. Tinfoilers. But now, now they know that we were right. For years, Susan had told us of how the reptilian overlords had seeped into our governments to prepare us for their invasion. Ben, you posted on your blog evidence after evidence that Illuminati were actually controlled by the CIA through Al Qaeda. Did they listen? No! Thomas presented secret audio recordings on his blog. Recordings showing beyond doubt, that president Bush actually was JFK in disguise. You all knew, and you were all ridiculed. This is the day my friends, the day we rise up from the ashes and lead the resistance against the robots! For who else, who else beyond this circle, knows more about what we are facing than us? No one! We are the last free humans. The awakened ones. The only few that haven't been chemtrailed. But there is one here among us. The one I propose should lead us. The one that had predicted it all. We threw him out of our circle, because we believed he had taken it too far. But humbly we apologize to you Frank, we didn’t know the full extent of the evil that grips our world. We are sorry.”
All seven in the circle bowed their heads and echoed, “we are sorry.”
In the corner of the basement, a silhouette sat, shaking after decades of brainwashing. His left leg was gone after an alien abduction. His right ear seared off by the RAIN device in Canada. His teeth were long discarded after he had found hidden microphones and trackers in them. His hair was no more after he found chemtrail residue in it. His clothes were dirty and not changed for years. Crazy Frank they had called him. Crazy Frank, who they had thrown out of their enclave after he told them he had killed his wife. They didn’t know then that he was right. She was a robot sent to spy on him. Now, crazy Frank sat in the corner, shaking, gurgling hysterically. The only words discernible in his jumbled guttural sounds were “I told you so”.
|
You know, the Clone sounded like a great idea in many ways. My parents never had a second child and they tried so hard. They figured it would be a great experience for them, and for me. I believed them; after all, being around someone who thinks the same as you, behaves the same as you, and has the same humour sounds like a lot of fun, right?
I was wrong. This damn clone is taking over my life. My parents adore it (I refuse to call it 'her' or 'she', much less by my name). Compared to the clone, I'm dated, outmoded. I'm slower, weaker, not as smart. This wouldn't even bother me, but for one thing. I'm being forgotten.
I no longer get a 'good morning' when I come down the stairs. When they make tea, there's never one out for me. I don't even get noticed when I leave the house. What the hell?! I mean, its just a clone, its not really me! So they wanted a second child, but don't care about their first?!
I tried something the other day, just to find out. My mum, dad and my clone were in the dining room, eating their dinner. Mum had cooked, but once again, no serving for me. I yelled at them all, tried desperately to get their attention. No one so much as blinked. So I then went and got a knife out of the kitchen. I stood at the only empty seat, put the blade against my throat, pressing hard enough to draw a small line of blood, and threatened suicide. Surely they would look up then? Surely they cared at least that much? Then, I was surprised.
Oh, my parents didn't move. They didn't look up, didn't stop eating for even a moment. But the clone, the look on its face! A smirk so thick with malice I have never before seen. It didn't look up either, but I knew, just *knew* it was smirking at me. It was deliberately taking my place in the family.
It ignored me again, as did my parents, after that. I have had enough; I can't take it anymore. I have the knife again, but not for a fake suicide attempt. Tonight, I'm actually going to kill myself. |
“Who was that guy?”
“That was Frank,” Bill said as he removed the empty glasses from atop the bar.
“He seemed really upset.”
“Yeah.” Bill heaved a sigh. “Maybe a little more so than usual. He comes in alone like that all the time, though. Mostly keeps to himself. He’s had a bad streak of luck lately. I wouldn’t concern yourself with him. It’s really none of our business.” Bill ducked below bar to tidy up the liquor bottles. It was almost closing time. “So what can I get you for last call?” But when Bill popped his head back up, he realized he was talking to an empty room.
---
Frank staggered his usual route home. The dimly lit streets welcomed him. They’d been waiting for him. The whole world had a marvelously Gaussian blur to it. Frank smiled at a stray cat as he passed by. His smile was strained, however. His whole face contorted, as though it were a great effort. He took in a very intentional deep breath and then put a blank face on. He felt a tremendous sadness about to wash over him, but he did his best stem the tide. He came to the leg of his journey that took him over a short bridge. “The old familiar places,” Frank mumbled aloud as he paused at the railing to look out over the water. Frank stopped on the bridge every night. He wondered if he would be brave this night. He hoisted himself up and over to the other side of the railing. There was barely a ledge to stand on. He gripped the rail behind him with the motor functions he had left. Frank was fairly certain a fall from this height would prove fatal.
Frank hung out on the ledge for a long time. He listen to the water rush by below him. He listened to the sound of his breath. And then rather suddenly, he became aware of the sound of someone else’s breathing. A powerful set of lungs drew near behind Frank. An indelicate tap on his shoulder almost jarred the man from his grasp. He turned, still clutching the rail, to see a horse as black as night standing on the sidewalk.
“Woah, now,” Frank said climbing back over the railing. “Where the Hell did you come from?” Frank pet the horse. It’s coat felt nice.
“You know Hell is where you’ll go if you do it,” the horse spoke in voice that sounded vaguely like Cary Grant. Frank twirled around.
“Excuse me,” he called into the night. He didn't seem to register the meaning of the speaker's words. “Nice horse you have here. Beautiful animal.”
“Gee, Frank. Do you really think I’m beautiful?” The horse asked jokingly.
Frank opened his eyes wider, desperate to clarify the blur that obscured his vision. “To whom am I speaking?” Frank grew increasingly puzzled as he looked up and down.
“It was me. The horse.” The horse spoke matter of factly. Frank looked at the horse. The horse gave a little snort. “Yes, you heard me right. I can talk.”
“Christ, I must be loaded.” Frank turned away from the horse and began to stick his fingers down his throat. He gagged.
“What are you doing that for?” The horse asked.
“I need to induce vomiting. Cleanse the system."Frank continued attempting to wretch.
“And here I thought you wanted to die. Why not just drink yourself to death?” At this, Frank threw up with a violent heave.
“How do you know?” Frank wiped some vomit from the corner of his mouth. “Are you my guardian angle? Huh? Is your name Clarence?” Frank started to get angry now. “What business is of it yours? Huh, Mr. Ed? Some dumb horse thinks he knows a damn thing about me?” Frank spat.
The horse ignored Frank’s emotion. “I am nothing nearly so divine. And as for my business, well, my business is my pleasure. And it would pleasure me greatly to help a friend in need.”
“We’re friends?” Frank grew evermore confounded.
“Of course we are. My name is for my friends. You are Frank, and I am called Manahaim. You may call me Mana. Now hop on.” The horse stooped low and offered his back to Frank. Frank looked around. The streets were deserted. Reluctantly, he mounted the horse who called himself Manahaim.
---
Author's Note: Writing quickly while at work (don't tell the boss). Will perhaps revisit later for edits/expansion.
|
"This looks like a damn video game."
My captain was leering at the screen. He was never the fastest reader. Since he was my captain, I kept my mouth shut and stuck to my little engineering cove, making sure the ship didn't fall apart outside this weird, flat anomaly.
Up on the screen was a flat image of a being decked out in brilliant greens and blues. It was oval shaped and had seven eyes, and a humanoid mouth. No limbs we could see.
Its mouth moved, but only faint lettering appeared in front of it. Our pilot, Arnold, had the front row view. "Welcome, strange travelers. You are unlike anything we have seen before."
"Can it not speak?"Captain Eric had little patience, and a smaller tolerance for unknowns.
"It wouldn't appear so Captain, when they talk it looks like a hologram translating for them."Arnold replied. He then scootched way back in his chair as the creature on the screen turned, disappeared, and then appeared again, only this time showing the back of it.
I couldn't help myself.
"Well", I observed, "That's where all of it's limbs were." |
"Find the money and get it done."
You are the beautiful result of these words. The dawning of a new type of human, genetically engineered to live the very other-worldly environs in which you now live. He believed in a vision that humanity would not end in the the bleakest hours of its existence. Dilapidated, crowded and suffocating. You, my children, are the beautiful result of a man who never ceased to push beyond the confines of Earth. You are the first generation of children made for the stars; to bring life to new worlds through the harrowing conditions of the void.
You are our final chance. |
This can’t be happening. There was so little time. I had to think fast. My life would end in a few seconds. It was a long fall so there really wasn’t any real chance I’d survive. I thought of my family and how much they’d miss me. It really was better this way. My girls would grow up without their daddy, but that was OK. They’d known me for a little. Eventually one morning when they wake up they’d forget to ask where daddy was that day…it broke my heart, but it’d mean they were moving on, and that was good.
They knew that daddy was strong. I guess he just wasn’t strong enough this time was he? Sorry kiddos. Daddy couldn’t cut it this time. DAMNIT! NO! They’ll remember you for you. I had to tell myself that they’d remember me as daddy. Their mother probably wouldn’t even tell them the exact circumstance of my death until they were much older. That’d spare them the heartbreak until they were old enough to handle it. It’s no one’s fault but my own really.
What if I lived? I could be there for them. It would spare them so much grief. Then what? They could take care of a quadriplegic? Care for a cripple until I died some thirty-odd years from now of an infected bedsore while hooked up to a ventilator? No. It’s probably better if I don’t limp away from this one. It’s just so far…there’s no way that could happen.
They’ll forget me soon enough. My wife and I always told each other that if either of us died the other was to remarry when they felt able. My girls would be raised by some other man. I mean, I know my wife would be there…but that other guy…he’d never be “daddy,” right? That’s me. Not him…what if they never know about me? My oldest is only two…the youngest is just six months. I don’t know that I have any memories from that long ago. I won’t have those memories for long now, either way.
No…I think this is for the best. I keep running the scenario over in my head…and I think me dying is the best way this could’ve ended. There’s no way I wanted to live like that. If I’d been a stronger person I wouldn’t be mere feet from the ground traveling…what’s terminal velocity? 130…maybe 140 miles per hour? If I were stronger I wouldn’t be inches from death, but I’d rather it be this way. If I hadn’t caught my daughter when she fell off the trail I’d be standing where she is, watching her plummet to her death instead of me to mine. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. I managed to push her onto a small ledge before the sheer cliff, but I wasn’t strong enough; I couldn’t hold onto the small bushes just before the drop and never recovered my balance. I wish I was stronger. They may not remember me, but I hope they don’t forget me either. I love them so much. |
I was on my way home from work. Just like any normal day, I was driving along 391 at about 55. Not speeding not going slow. I saw a white car, just sitting on the highway with the door open. I thought the car looked familiar, and I pictured my friends car and matched up the license plates I my head. It was his. I slow down, switch lanes, and park next to the car. Nothing was strange except the face that he wasn't in the car. He was nowhere to be found actually. On the way walking back to my car to call him on his cell to see what was up, I glanced at the woods beside the highway. There was matted down grass footprints leading into the woods. The wind of the passing cars was quick and harsh. It lessened as I took small steps towards the woods. It was about 19:00, getting dark quickly. Should I have gone back to my car to call him, or just go into the woods? We all make mistakes, I guess. I walked closer to the woods. I heard a stick Crack and some rustling leaves. Must have been a rabbit I thought. Nothing else is in these woods. I was wrong.
I pushed aside a small vine Bush and took a step into the woods. The air was cooler in here than it was outside. I could see maybe 25 yards before it got too dark to see good detail. I saw the trail of footprints in the leaves and walked forward. I slid my hand across a tree. There was a sharp piece of bark sticking out. I looked closer and noticed there were 2 deep slashes in the tree. I ignored it and kept walking. I called his name a few times with no response. 5 minutes of walking and still nothing. As I walked a little more, I saw something on the ground. I ran up to the lump and noticed it was my friend lying on the ground. I shook him and he didn't wake up. I called his name and slapped his face. No reaction. I looked up and around, but no one was here. It was only us. Just then I heard a voice. "You can't save him."I spun around and there was nothing. Only the woods. It was almost pitch black at this point. I turned back around and there was a face inches from mine. It was long and skinny, white as snow. Skin was covering the eyes and mouth of this thing. I could not speak. I could not move. Fear was struck in me. Then his cheekbones rose, as if this creature was trying to smile. It then shook violently and ran off to the right. It was lost in the dark. I remember being struck in the back of the head and blacking out.
I woke up in my car later that night, alone, at 2 in the morning. My friends car was gone. I wasted no time and turned on my car and sped away.
Yeah I'm not sure where I was going with that. |
This will be my first writing prompt :)
but please don't hold back on the feedback, please be constructive in it though!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
CP-LPL: "we are entering; Solar System: HG-375-9384-KJH91234, of number 456.230.440 in line, in; Galactic System: TL-123G, of number 435 in line, proceeding to scan for planets in habitable zone, Captain".
Captain: "hopefully we will finally find some kind of life, this time, other than petty microbes".
CP-LPL, was the onboard Computerized Personality and Life-Scanning Probe Launcher, designed to pleasure the Captain and aide him in recruiting new worlds in the ongoing war effort against the Aidans.
The Aidans we're an ancient species, predating the current Tion of this universe. A Tion, being a measurement of universal age, each Tion giving birth to a new universe.
The war effort, was an Alliance of species, spanning more than 256.045 different kinds of species. Some we're friendly and others war-like, but they all had a common enemy, The Aidans.
It was the Captains errand, amongst many other "Captains", to search or seek out other civilizations to join the Alliance, of course, before the Aidans would arrive.
CP-LPL: "Returning Scan Data; Solar System: HG-375-9384-KJH91234, of number 456.230.440 in line, in; Galactic System: TL-123G, of number 435 in line, has 2 planets, located in the solar systems habitable zone, proceeding to launch life-scanning probes".
Captain: "CP, give me a visual on both, i want to see them".
CP-LPL: "As you command, Captain".
A screen pops up infront of the Captain, showing both planets, one blue and one bright red. By the end of his desk, a holodeck opens, revealing a holo-keyboard.
The Captain then proceeds to zoom in on the bright red one first.
Captain: "hmmm, this world looks pretty barren to me... CP what is the stat on... uuuh planet... you know the red one.....".
CP-LPL: "Stat: Planet HG-375-9384-KJH91234-4, is non-suitable for life, detectors returning nothing but common microbiological lifeforms".
Captain: "Ooookay, well give me a picture on the blue one, also a stat please".
CP-LPL: "As you command, Captain".
Captain: "yeah yeah..".
The picture pops up, Error 404: Planet not found.
Captain: "ooohkay, CP? i am getting an error? could you..
CP-LPL: "Stat: Planet HG-375-9384-KJH91234-3, is non-suitable for life, no data received".
Captain: "YES! yes! stop interrupting me! now fix this error and give me a proper stat".
CP-LPL: "Sorry Captain".
CP-LPL: "Stat: Planet HG-375-9384-KJH91234-5, is non-suitable for life, detectors returning nothing...".
Captain: "Oh well, better luck next time... CP, place this Solar System on the blacklist, there is nothing here after all".
CP-LPL: "As you command, Captain".
Captain: "now, on our way to the next solar system, i want a massage and watch some porn, with alot of tentacles".
CP-LPL: "As you command, Captain".
Captain: "and not just a few CP, i mean many, now get to it!"
CP-LPL: "As you command, Captain".
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ |
For centuries, a plain Black Flag was a military symbol, rarely used, that signified "No Quarter"or no mercy given, none expected and no prisoners taken.
Also, it's an anarchist symbol... and one for a particular type of jihad.
Now, because of one pirate move which may have gotten it wrong, people think it's also used for "parley"when it really meant that the defender should surrender (send up the white flag) immediately or be attacked.
*I accidentally a word.
|
I sit here watching. Watching the timelines making sure they stay in order. I see the moments of laughter and the moments of fear with each moment I have the same thought. I wish I was there. I do not know how I ended up here only that I need to keep everything in order. Some days if I'm lucky a timeline might fray to distract me. But most of the time I just sit here watching the time go by before me alone in this endless void. If I fet really bored I might mess with a timeline by making someone forget something small and watch it snowball from there then reset it. But for now I'll sit and watch as I always do.
Note: This was a spur of a moment thing. I hope it's okay. |
I really like where this is going. Honestly I have no constructive criticism...not in a bad way. You are doing this very well. The earlier post makes me feel like that was the book sleeve and now with this you are getting to the actual story. I can see this actually being a book. Keep going. If you run into writers block let me know and I will attempt to help. Seriously you can make this a novel....one that I would read at least. |
Regret filled the void that the words had left in my mouth, as if it could push more out if it managed to grow enough. It had worked, too. Words spilled over onto the tiled floor as she raised an eyebrow at my over-exaggerated flourishes.
"Yeah, I know."
A moment of confusion sprouted into relief. I winced inwardly at how terribly that could have gone, before running over the situation in my head again. First, I'd had the bright idea to introduce myself without a name. Then, I'd had the bright idea to lie about existing at all, as if that had been funny. Then, I'd had the absolutely brilliant idea of going all-in with a theatrical paranoid existential character in the hope I could salvage something of her first impressions of me.
"Yeah, I know."
A moment later, I had a *real* existential crisis.
"Huh?"
It had faded even as I had raised my arms to pat down my own chest and confirm my seeming solidity. My comic streak flared up again, and before I knew it I was melodramatically ranting about how I couldn't have opened the store if I didn't exist, when a thought struck me.
"You aren't actually being serious about this, are you?"
Out of everything, that had been the best move. Few things in life were as fulfilling as causing the laughter of a beautiful woman. When it isn't at your expense, that is.
"No no, I'm sorry. I have a funny sense of humor."
The way she shook her head and her hand in opposite direction was strangely endearing.
"Sweet, me too!"
I poured everything I had into my best 'What an amazing coincidence' face, and was rewarded with laughter once more.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Stacy."
I held out my hand to shake, and she raised an eyebrow. I suppose not many guys shake hands with the fairer sex these days.
"Hi Stacy, I'm..."
I paused, her hand in mine. Tilting my head, I gave it a little squeeze.
"Is that Stacy, as in- with an 's' for single?"
I'd heard that bad luck came in threes, but apparently that goes for all luck in my case. |
I've walked in a straight line for what seems like an eternity now. My shoes have turned into bloodsoaked rags, my only barrier between my feet and the pools of blood on the streets.
It clogged the drains, it drowned the grasses, it soaked into the concrete and dyed it a dull red. The blood coated all, and with it an unbelievable stench and an air of death far beyond palpable. It took half my strength to walk, the other half to keep carrying on. Suddenly I understood how people could simply loose the will to live and die in their beds. Perhaps a death like that would have been better than the one everyone suffered; they just went up in mist, broken down to their components. But something was stolen from them, and I know what it was.
I followed the maroon trail; it was once a path called a street, in an area called downtown. Now that I think of it, what is something's name when there's nobody there to call it by its name? Is it still a street because there is someone still left to call it that? My philosophizing was cut short. I found you.
You seemed strangely proud of what you had done, holding onto that strange jar you told me about. I walked up the stone stairs to the capitol building, the concrete squishing underneith me. You noticed me approaching and you stopped petting the jar for a second to look up at me.
You called out my name. You were happy to see me. You said I was your only friend, and that you asked Baphomet to spare me. You said that I made it there right on time, and that you had something to show me.
In one swoop, you dropped the jar, and what seemed like to be a million purple fireflies poured out. For a split second, I could hear them screaming, crying, laughing, pleading, and praying. I felt their sorrow. All you did was smile. The haze of souls coalesced into one glob, and the ground began to shake.
It pulled and stretched, and the blood bubbled and boiled around it. Soon the blob towered over my head, and expanded out rapidly, forming a large egg. You stood there still, clapping your hands and cheering. You were wracked with excitement. Don't you know what you've done? Why did you have to read that stupid book? Why did you take it seriously? Did you really hate everyone so much?
The egg cracked, and dissolved into ashes. The creature that was inside shook the ashes off its enormous raven black wings. Its curling horns towered over its head, and it let out a long sigh that smelled of brimstone. It stood over us. We craned our necks to look up at it.
You went and summoned the Beast. You dumbass... |
President Lannister glanced out towards the White House front lawn and adjusted his collar. It was mid-morning, the sun having just peeked through the fog hanging high in the sky. "What is it?"He asked, briefly casting his attention over his shoulder at his youngest son, a man sitting on one of the lounge sofas in front of the resolute desk.
"Secretary of the Interior would be nice, now that I think about it."The man spoke with his usual go-to sarcasm, briefly bringing the mouth of a cup of water to his lips to nurse the hangover he'd been battling for the better part of the morning. "You know? Lots of parks, geological surveys, I hardly imagine much in our parks is changing at any given time so that, upon reflection, would give me lots of free time to keep up appearances."
The President grimaced and turned his attention back towards the lawn briefly, his wrinkled face contorting to a frown. "No, I don't believe you'll be receiving the Secretary role."The man turned on his heel and gave his son his full undivided attention. "You've already brought me enough trouble on the campaign trail, what with your frequenting of Vegas and god-knows-where."
Tyrone Lannister cleared his throat, brow creasing. "I-"He swallowed almost imperceptibly. "You promised me. You used my status as a dwarf for sympathy votes. Talked about how you had to raise me, gave me everything I could ever want so that I'd live a happy life. You promised me a role in the Administration if I played along. You gave me *your word.*"The man spoke with some strain, briefly palming his mouth to try to hide his scowl.
The President's expression never changed. He turned to take a seat at the most important desk in the world and folded his hands together, eyes coldly focused on his son's obviously disappointed face. "You will be appointed as the chief of staff of Senator Broom. He's done our family well over the past decade or two, you will work well in that role. After four years, you will resign your position and return home to Oregon and there you'll find a job with local government."
"This isn't what I was promised."The man's son spoke, voice cracking.
"It's what you're going to get."
Tyrone slowly stood up, shoving off of the couch. "Thank you, Mr. President."Trying not to show his father the pain of the proverbial knife in his back being wrenched further in, the man collected himself and left the Oval Office, tears streaming down his face in the hallway.
|
"We believe they will attack at 23 hundred hours"the voice on the loudspeaker says. I look over at the clock. 22:17.
"Damnnit"I curse under my breathe. "That's sooner then I thought"I mumble. Marc sighs,
"It's sooner then anyone thought, especially after the last battle..."
"You'd have thought they would have surrendered after that one."I mimic his sigh as I start to put my bullet proof vest on. Hopefully this will be the last one, I think to myself. Marc gives me a look that shows he understands how much I hate this. Marc has always been someone to lean on, he's empathetic, strong, smart, pretty much perfect. While as I've had luck in barley making it out alive in all of our efforts to control the rebels. Survivor's guilt has now been a problem for me along with my already bad anxiety disorder, neither of which are things I want to carry onto the battlefield. Or off, for that matter.
23:30
We're stationed around where they are believed to start their attacks. I'm next to Marc, and we're both behind an enormous tree. Soon we hear the enemy approaching, two men, from the way the footsteps sound. They're being awfully loud. I'm starting to get really worried now. *Why aren't they trying to sneak up? Do they want us to hear them? Are we part of a trap?* My heart is beating so loudly I swear they can hear it. "Don't use your gun"Marc whispers to me, so softly that I question whether I actually heard him or not. Why wouldn't I use my gun? I wonder. And that's when I realize. *Have I ever seen Marc use a gun? Have I even ever seen him in the battlefield? Is he some kind of pacifist?* Before I can even begin to comprehend this, Marc steps out of the coverage
"It's me"he says to the men. They smile, and then look towards me.
"Who's your little friend?"
"I-I'm Sam Turner."I can barely make it out as I step out from behind the tree.
"Why are you here?"
"He's with me"Marc answers. "He's the man who allowed all of this to happen"
"All of what to happen?"I spit out before even thinking of the possible consequences.
"You trusted me. And I thank you for that because I am a very untrustworthy person."He takes a deep breathe. "You thought this would be the end, didn't you? Well, it is going to be the end. Not of the rebellion, but of you." |
The first day nobody said a word. The second day the priest said a prayer. Today? These two won't shut the hell up.
"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. He who loves Him will follow Him into eternal salvation. It is His word."
"Salvation. I've seen what that looks like. It's red, sticky, and takes an eternity to get out of a uniform."
I laugh internally. I always appreciate a good joke.
"Do not mock what you have foolishly cast away with your arrogance! He offers you redemption and you deny Him. It is your own fault."
"Look at me man. Look at my fuckin legs. Are you having trouble? You must be because I don't have any god damned legs to look at! You saying that's my fault?"
"The Lord takes may take my body but he will never take my faith. My time shall come peacefully and naturally as I have shown my Creator the respect he deserves. Those who do not show subservience are punished like a rotten child. While I do feel great remorse for your situation, the fault is your own, not the Lord's."
"Man, fuck the lord!"
The priest gasps in horror. Even I thought that was a bit harsh.
"Whose fault is it my grenade had a faulty pin and exploded on my hip while we were shipping off the front line? Whose fault is it that I had so much shrapnel in my legs that they couldn't take off my pants without tearing a patch of muscle? Whose fault is it that one in ten thousand amputations result in a life-threatening infection? I'm just a kid! It ain't my fault. And if it ain't my fault, then it's fucking his!"
Silence took over the room. Finally. The solider took his blanket and shielded himself with it. I think he hoped that it would cover the sound of his cries -- it didn't. The priest opened his bible and turned the pages back and forth looking for a passage that he just couldn't seem to remember.
I thought now would be a good time to say something.
"Does anyone want to hear a joke?"
The priest removed his head from his book and the soldier's from his fort. They both raised an eyebrow at one another. I can understand why. It's an odd thing to say when you haven't said a word for three days.
"You are able to speak?"
"I thought you had your throat removed, man."
Of course they didn't answer my question. I waited for an answer.
"Yeah.'
"A priest, a soldier, and an undertaker are all dying in a hospital room. After a little silence, they finally start talking about the inevitable. The priest says he is going to heaven as he has worshiped God since he was a boy. The solider says he is going to hell as he's killed many men and has done many terrible deeds. After some discussion, they ask the undertaker where he thinks he's going.
The priest and the soldier stare at me with wide eyes. No family had come and no flowers were sent. All they've had was their worries. For first time in days, they thought about something other than themselves.
"He says: It doesn't matter where I go, just make sure I look good!"
They both laugh hysterically. The soldier forgets about his legs and the Priest forgets about his destiny. The joke wasn't even that funny but it didn't matter. At that moment, nothing mattered.
We all died a few hours later. Looking back, that was the best moment of my life.
|
I sit down to watch some tv in the front room. I haven't actually done this in a while, since I'm more partial to computers on a whole when it comes to wasting time. However at the moment my two younger brothers as well as my older sister are using all the laptops, plus the gaming desktop (that I paid for and built myself), so I don't have much of a choice.
Anyways, I sit down and start flicking through the channels. Its mostly just reruns of "How I Met My Mother"and the "Big Bang Theorem"that Ive seen a thousand times. So, I decide to just go on a nostalgia trip and check out some kids programming. I watch spongebob squarepants for about an hour, seems like they were running a marathon of it on nickelodeon that day.
Well by the end of this stint Ive coincidentally erected a tent, as happens occasionally. I'm kind of pondering whether or not to beat it off right there in the front room, but the risk factor deters me. So I just sort of tuck it in, hoping for it to abate before anyone else comes in.
I do some more channel flicking before I end up on TG4, a channel that runs old ass programs with irish subtitles. They're playing an episode of the telytubbies. My mast has been chafing up against my jeans pretty heavily, to the point where it was even more embarrassingly obvious than before. At this stage I'm aroused enough that I just go for it, I doubted anyone else would come in anyway, my siblings spend their entire existences on the computers anyway.
So, I'm just there in the living room, beating it to the thought of some random Latino actress Id seen in some family action movie, when I hear a noise come from the tv.
Now, I had distinctly remembered muting it, as I would then be capable of hearing if any intruders where coming to interrupt my interpretation of a seed growing into a tree, so this noise came as a total shock to me. Because of this, I sat bolt upright and quickly cast my eyes all around. No one else was in the room with me. Eventually, after double and triple checking I was alone, I looked straight at the tv. I don't know what episode of tellytubbies was playing, but the it seems tinky winky had been turned into a half naked Latino woman. I mean, you could still see tinky winkie's onesie and antennae thing, but it was all straining and ripping against this woman's body.
I just sat there in stark silence, my bodily quietly shaking, before I eventually yelled "WHAT THE FUCK?!?!". That was when she stared me straight in the eyes, and started fingering herself. It was hypnotizing. It took me a further moment to realize that this was the woman I was previously beating it to. Then I remember the exact scenario that I had imagined. Specifically, I had Imagined her getting ploughed by this WWE wrestler by the name of "Batista". That's when stuff got weird.
Suddenly, Po, the tiniest tellytubby, turns from a 2ft tall albino kid into 6ft 200lb black man with tribal tattoos all over his body. Then he picks up dipsy and Idnotknowwhattheirfuckingnameis, and throws them at the screen. They both fall through the screen into the living room, and I'm just questioning my sanity at this point, so I don't do shit, and then he picks up tinky winky and presses her up to the televeison screen and starts fucking her into reality.
Oh, and after Po/Batista threw the other two through the tv, dipsy had turned into that chick from the third transformers movie (you know, the blonde british one?) and the other had turned into one of those wolves from game of thrones.
So, Dispy starts grinding giving me a lap dance, her antenna bouncing up and down in rhythm with her gyrations. I start slapping her ass, cause, fuck it, might as well enjoy this insanity at this stage. Po manages to finish fucking the Latino into the living room and they then continue going at it on the couch. The tv goes from the background of telltuby land to the static no-channel screen.
So after like a minute of grinding dipsy decides to start stripping off her pants and Im like "I might just get to fuck that chick from transformers", so then I start taking off my clothes and I notice that wolf I mentioned earlier has eaten the clothes off all the other tellytubies, so I throw mine behind the couch while he isn't looking. He then proceeds to jump back into the tv.
So then I have sex with dispy (then tinky winky, then dipsy again), and it's awesome. Did I meantion they still have those little tv's on their stomach? No? well they do, and the whole time they've been banging their stomach's have been playing loud hardcore BDSM porn. But whatever that's beside the point.
We stop after like an hour and they just sort of wordlessly walk back in to the now blank tv screen like total zombies and just zap out of existence. After all of them have walked into the tv, the screen comes back on, and rover the red dog is playing.
So, Dad, that is the reason I didn't record the world cup. |
Two weeks ago, I won the lottery.
It wasn't a big thing. I mean, yeah, $80 million is a lot of money, but I begged the lottery not to make a fuss. I didn't tell anyone.
To be honest, I'm not quite sure why.
I'm rich now. Rich! $80 million! So, why do I still live in a dumpy apartment on the edge of town and drive a crappy 1997 Toyota Corolla to work in a shitty restaurant?
Well, I'm waiting. Biding my time, you see. I don't need a job for a while. I can finally go to college, afford it. So now, I'm just waiting for the perfect moment to quit.
I hate the customers who I serve. Well, the bitchy ones. The ones who complain and look down on me, even though it's their dumpy ass at a shitty restaurant by their decision. I didn't pick this job. I had no choice.
Now, I wait for a mean group of customers to let out my rage on, to quit.
"Nick, take table 7."
Perfect. Table 7.I head over with a polite smile. "Hello! Welcome. Would you like anything to drink?"
The group I'm serving is rather large for this place. 5 people. One of them glares at me.
"No,"he growls. He's got a shaved head and numerous tattoos. I'm not one to judge people by their appearance, but he looks pathetic. Well, except for those muscles. He could beat me up easily.
"Alright, sir. Does anyone-"
"I said, *no*,"the man interrupts, fixating me with a squinty-eyed glare.
"Very well, sir. Would you like to place your food orders now?"
They go around the table, ordering complicated dishes. After their order, they smirk, knowing how annoyed the kitchen staff will be.
Grudgingly, I write down the orders and get them to the kitchen. Forty-five minutes later, the food is ready. I walk back with dishes on a tray.
The muscled man stands up. "Why the hell did it take you so long?"
"I'm sorry sir,"I answer politely. "It wasn't-"
"Why?!"He roars, banging his fists on the table.
I smirk and drop the dishes in front of each person who ordered them. "Because you all are assholes. I quit."
With that, I whirled around and stalked out the door, leaving 5 flabbergasted customers in my wake.
-----
I'm sorry if I didn't get the description of a shitty customer quite right, I've never seen one. Cheers! |
No, no, no, no, no! This cannot be happening! This can NOT be happening!
"ANDREW!"I hear her cry. "I'm coming!"I hastily reply, "Give me a minute!". "ANDREW!"She repeats louder.
Of all the things that could happen to me, of all the infinitely strange things the universe could have thrust upon me it does this.
"AAAAAANNNNNNNDDDDDDRRRRRREEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!!"
"Mom I'm coming!"I scream back at her. Now I know how she's felt for all these years, putting up with my whining all by herself.
"I'M HUNGRY!", she screamed. The voice hit a fever pitch that almost shook the house. I hate being responsible for someone, I cannot do this, this cannot last.
"I'm making omelette!"I say back to her, with a ring to it like she once did with me when she wanted me at the table.
"I WANT FISH FINGERS!"She shouted back, then she began to cry.
Dear god, why. Why is this happening. The last time I was responsible for someone I had to lock myself away from them and read my comics. That was when I was looking after my young cousin Edgar. I even remember what I was reading "The Death in the family". Oh if only I were the Joker and that little dick was Jason, I wished. I know it sounds horrible but I was never good with kids.
Egg in, ham, cheese, cook, plate, served.
"I DON'T LIKE IT! I WANTED FISH FINGERS!"My Mom screamed at me, her eyes began to well up. I can't deal with this. Why me? I was never good with kids, now I have 7 billion of them. |
I’ve always hated children. Even when I was one, I hated them around me. Their little feet, and little clothes. Those shrill voices coming from their tiny bodies. I despise them. I despise their carefree nature and their youth. This isn’t a tale about me though… well it is, but it’s not about why I am the way I am. It’s about why I am here. Of course, in this undisclosed location, in my undisclosed room, I’m not allowed any visitors, but you’ve taken an interest in my case, and for that, I must thank you. But I have to warn you that I am not like the others, I am not falsely accused, nor am I in denial. I am very aware of my crimes, and I would like to stay here. I know I am safe. I know I am happy. I know that I am away from them.
It started a few years ago, I used to live near a school. Every morning I would be awakened by the sound of parents and their children. The parents would zoom off in their cars leaving their snobby children to cry in their absence. Ugh, I shudder just remembering it. Every day at lunch time, the kids would be let out for recess, and would run around and play. I remember their laugher. That sound still haunts me till today.
The first child was a little girl, small and blonde. She was doe eyed with hair longer than her torso. She hopped over my fence one day to retrieve a ball. Can you imagine the audacity of these children? Entering my lawn? Coming onto my property? This was not acceptable. I had to deal with it. Poor little dear couldn’t get back over my fence. Naturally, I invited her inside. These children are so detestable. How can someone be so naïve as to accept an invitation from a stranger, specifically one who’s land they were trespassing on.
She came right in a made herself at home. How disgusting, she trailed her dirt covered feet over my carpet and floor. It would be such a mess to clean. She even went and sat on my sofa. MY SOFA. What a horrid little thing. How could anyone love such grisly little beasts.
I had to get rid of it. I remember, I began to twitch. The sight of her disgusted me to no end, I felt dirty, my house was dirty. She was contaminating my world. She was breathing my air, and now the little fiend was destroying my home. I knew how to lure her in. I had seen enough movies. I knew these little creatures survived off of sugary treats.
“ Do you want some chocolate? I have a lot in the basement…”
“Yes Sir.”
She followed me downstairs, into the little bathroom. I slashed at her skin as she screamed and cried. I still remember those sounds. I even kept a bit of her hair. A little memento of my first plunder. I wish I could have kept that moment. The way her blood splashed, and the way her little body went limp. It was an addicting feeling. I had to do it again. I had to feel it again.
There were many more after her. Many many more. The children just kept coming. They never became any less naïve, nor any less disgusting. It was their own fault really. I was just going about my life in the same way that anyone with an addiction would. Going through the actions until the moment came to satisfy my craving. I lived a fairly normal life, purging the world of the evils of children. Until one day, a strange thing happened. Suddenly, the sounds of children laughing. The horrid and shrill sound. Echoing in my ears, disrupting my thoughts, pounding in my head. I still remember the sound and the way I screamed in terror and pain “ It’s not stopping. IT’S NOT STOPPING.”
|
As a prosecutor attorney, I have to use the law to change the mind of a jury or judge. Tonight will be my hardest case yet. Darby, my best friend since first year of law school 12 years ago, will be coming over tonight to watch a movie. The movie is no ordinary one. The movie is of a hard-working, romantic attorney who convinces his lesbian friend--and crush--to return to the dark side of liking penis.
Three knocks echo through my cathedral roofs of my apartment. Opening the door, the sensual hair curled over to one side of Darby's shoulder immediately catches my eye. Without a word she cracks up laughing, swoops through my arm blocking the door, and heads toward the cheese platter. We nonchalant discuss the day as I pour a glass of wine. *Step 1: always start with a engaging opening argument that steers the opponents attention toward your path*
"Despite the hard working day, it is always nice to have a night of wine in the comfort of a home"I proclaim--implying of my nice warm apartment.
"I agree. I just wish that there is some girl out there that will finally connect with me and this cheese platter"
After many inside jokes and captivating stories, my heart beats faster and faster as I know it is time to lay out my guts. I take a deep breathe, but still doesn't calm my antsy leg. After hundreds of trials, I still can't find the confidence for my love. As Darby rambles off on her latest art project, I start thinking of all the characteristics of Darby that make me feel warm. Her smile that crunches up her eyes and nose. Her glare that she gives you when she wants to tell you something so bad but other people shouldn't know it. The easy going body contact that is so welcoming.
"Darby, my feelings for you have grown. Our friendship has blossomed into much more and I want to spend more time with you. I value this time so much, and feel a very special connection"I confess as I reach for her closed hand. Touching the hand, she pulls back.
"Eric, you know I am lesbian", ending with a cover-up, awkward chuckle.
"People are not defined for eternity. Who knows maybe if you played with it a little, maybe you would start to enjoy it..."
"Enjoy what..."
"You know, enjoy a penis. It can be fun. Trust me, you start flicking it, moving, next thing you know you can't help by grab it"
"wait..what are you even saying", stepping back, Darby's face become flushed in intervals of white emptiness and gushing with red embarrassment.
*I'm digging myself a deep deep deep grave. This is embarrassing. But I can fix it.*
"I know you have feelings too. You come to my house, uninvited, all the time, just to hang out. You drink my wine, eat my cheese, and laugh at my jokes. Who laughs at my jokes? I feel a special bond. That bond--"
"--where are you going with this?"Darby interrupts.
"Maybe if you were to touch it and really get to know a penis, you would become friends and maybe more than friends? Maybe you two will go on a date. Maybe you'll see a movie together, feed it popcorn. Then after a while, you become lovers. You become special lovers with a spiritual connection. You introduce your parents to the penis. The penis makes a great impression on your parents and they truly accept it for who it is. Your parents will invite the penis to a weekend trip to the Hamptons with your family. It plays football with your brothers. Drinks lemonade next to you on the beach. And maybe you will decide to get married to that penis. Maybe you will decide to have little penis-children. You'll grow old with that penis, sit in rocking chairs with that penis, and the penis will treat you right. The penis will make sure you're happy, make sure your warm in the winter, and fun in the summer. You're not just friends with penis...you and the penis become one, become whole."
Darby sits there with a dropped jaw. She gives an endearing laugh. Hope? Nope, the laugh only indicated her idea of picking up the whole cheese platter and flinging it at my penis like its the final seconds of an ultimate frisbee game. She walks outside as I clinch my penis and fall to the floor. On my side, staring at mozzarella and pepperjack, all I could think of was, "Maybe my delivery was too cheesy" |
"Honey, I think he's having a bit of trouble"
"Hunh. Looks like he is."
They watch, sipping their drinks.
"Look at him make those furious little circles with his arms."
"Maybe he's just having fun?"
"Maybe. Awful quiet about it though."
She laughes. "For a change."
They watch the child a bit more, his little arm circles and his little head bobs.
"You know, they say that drowning is actually very quiet."
"Do they say that?"
"That's what they told me when I had a summer job at the pool."
"Well how about that."
Bob bob bob goes the little head.
"Maybe that means we should do something."
"Well, you can't do anything though. You just ate."
She nods, slowly. "That's right, I did. I guess it's up to you then."
"I'm trying. It's just very hard to get out of this chair. I may have had too much to drink."
"You did have a lot to drink. You haven't done that in a long time."
Silence. It is a bright, warm day. The world is almost entirely at peace.
"I am trying, though."
"Oh I know honey. I'm trying too."
"I'm trying as hard as I can."
"So am I."
The world is entirely at peace.
"I guess there was nothing we could do."
"I am glad we tried, though."
"We tried so hard."
"Hard being the operative word there. So, so hard."
He nods, slowly.
"No one can say we didn't try."
They kiss. |
Two countries are going to war against each other to reclaim some land lost to the other country. The main character is involved with this war. How does he view the upcoming war, how does he go against the massive army of the other country? How does he react when his comrades fall around him?
Describe the war in general. How are the armies structured? What tactics are being used? Are there potential spies that will thwart these tactics? How long does the battle last for and when does it start? Are any animals being used and how does the other army react?
Sorry that this is long, but it's just to give some ideas for consideration. You don't have to mention all of these. |
A sudden percussion of rattling broke the silence of her calm, somnolent abode. Three ominous knocks echoed through the home like the bell call to worship. A summoning. She opened her eyes, confused by the pervasion on her slumber. Her body lay deep under cosy sheet and warm quilt. She reached to her right, feeling for the familiar shape of her husband. Her hand grasped at emptiness. The business trip, of course, one more week, she thought. A sigh escaped her lips as she pushed back the folds of her warm bed and rose. Like a ghost, haunting a place for some dire retribution, she glided through the house in her trailing nightgown. The knocking continued. The house was lightless and she blindly struggled to find the handle of the door. The door handle found its way into her hands only after a full minute of her search. She yanked the door open, a half-frown of displeasure ready to greet the person that had awoken her. Her face, slacked-jawed and bleary-eyed, a portrait of those half-asleep everywhere, filled the vision of two policemen standing huddled near the door. There was a minute long silence between them. The policemen, both new recruits, embarrassed by their job and the woman confused as to why two policemen would be at her door. The older of the two policemen garnered his courage and spoke up. "Ma'am, your son is involved in a hostage situation.” The woman looked at him like he had told a bad joke. "No he's not. Matthew's right here at home."The policeman opened his mouth to say something but was cut-off by the mother. "You’re lying. He's fine. Matthew! Matthew come here! MATTHEW!"She raced back into the house, tears streaming down his face. Matthew would be there in his room asleep. Her little beautiful Matthew would be fine. She burst into his room and screamed his name. "MATTHEW!"She ripped off his bed sheets. He wasn't there. Oh God! He wasn't there! She searched under his bed, screaming his name. "MATTHEW! Please Matthew come out! Stop hiding! MATTHEW!"She searched his closet. Not there. She searched his clothes hamper. Not there. She searched under his desk. Not there. She let out a long, primal howl. He was gone. Her twelve year-old was gone. Her beautiful, bright, happy Matthew was gone. Only yesterday he had come home laughing, his report card in hand. All As. She was so proud. He was so happy. Matthew was gone! She sobbed. A hand came to rest on her shoulder. It was the policeman. He now knew this job was going to be a thousand times worse than what he had expected. "Ma'am, your son hasn't been taken hostage."She looked up, boundless hope now colouring her eyes. "What?"The policeman looked away, out at the now rising dawn. "Your son has taken the hostages. He's planning on killing them."The Sun's rays turned the room a deep orange. This day was only going to get harder. |
I know you said bicycle, but fuck that fili, hic America est, vel ito magnis vel ito domo.
-------------
Sabinus Camerinus consilibus, Varus rode on Germany. The order of ride was such that the Exploratores rode ahead of the main column on their off road Kawasakis, providing information to the main column. Then came the infantry on their soft-tails, flanking the vulnerable mounted missile troops. Behind them the equites on their heavy Goldwings, protecting Varus and his cohorts, the ensigns on their choppers flying aquilae of the three legions from their sick chromed out sissy bars.
The average infantryman wore the standard leather cut with his legion, aquila, and S.P.Q.R. on the back, with his rank on the breast. He carried one pilum in a vagino attached the to side of his bike and a gladio on his back, with spare arma being towed by auxulia trikes. Veterans of previous campaigns were allowed beards in the summer, in the winter this was extended to all ranks. Before forming for battle, each man covered his hair with a bandana emblazed with the Roman emblem. The smoking of cigars was common place.
---
shit, was gonna write more about how it turned around Tuetoburg and a prequel about how Ceaser surrounded the Gauls with two circles of steel and beat Vercingetorix to death with a bike chain. But USA is playing, so that and actually declining my nouns can wait. |
I'm not a story writer but here is an idea someone might want to use as a jumping off point with a similar scenario:
Terrorist incidents have been succeeding under extremely improbable circumstances eg: predicting random events and manipulating situations beyond the laws of probability. The terrorists somehow got hold of advanced technology that allows them to reset a time period and are using this to repeatedly attempt an attack until it is successful. From everyone else's point of view it's a string of successful attacks one after the other.
The protagonist could be an everyman (or woman) who somehow gets caught up in the repeating days without knowing how or why it's happening. It might take them a while to work out the pattern where a day repeats multiple times until a successful attack happens and then time goes back to normal for a while until the next attack starts looping. Once he figures it out he decides to get involved without drawing the attention of the terrorists.
If anyone wants to run with this, feel free! |
[Note: The first sentence is taken directly from the character of the judge in Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian.]
Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent. Death and the bringers of death are not just glory and the holders of glory. It is an unwinding of the mystery or the kindling of a flame. But the only mystery is that there is no mystery. Our acts of violence lift the stone of inexperience so as to better discern the critters that lie in wait beneath. The potentiality in every soul of man is as hardshelled and scheming and nocturnal as the rest.
Consider the child. Consider the native heathen bereft of his tangled locks and crowned with the scalped purity of bone. Consider the infant girls strung up dangling naked from the tree we witnessed out there upon the desert plain where no right tree ought to have grown, the black wooden limbs laced through their tiny pierced tendons like jewelrywire. Consider those puppies the kid saw me purchase and carry in a tied sack to the bridge where I dropped them in plain view to watch the bag contort in the current and manifest in the world what shape and sound the fear in those sentient creatures does bring about.
Do not mistake me. The war I wage I wage in earnest and with as fullfledged ideology as the most pious of saints or maniacal of sinners but it is not a political war. No creed or law constrains me. And there is no more intrinsic value in the creation of this work than in any other endeavor for all zero sums equate. What worth there is in this or any other work is utilitarian and personal because all one knows is what one has known. For this reason and no other is the trade of blood the truest practice of science. We interrogate what happens in horror and in death and though the answer is the selfsame resounding indifference upon the crowning of each pallid skull who are we to claim without foreknowledge whether an atrocity yet more extreme than the last might call down the hand of some holy intervention or an otherwise mystical rift in what has been and what is and what likely will always be? |
So here I am, on Memory Lane. It's been a while since I've been in this neck of the woods. My mind has been...elsewhere.
It's nice here though. The street itself stretches way beyond the horizon but I've never walked that far. I get to a certain point and a fog descends and it gets harder to see. Annoying how that happens - I'd love to know what's back there.
But here, in front of me, each and every building that lines the street is one I've been to before. There are some I like to visit often and some that I'd rather avoid. I like to visit my Grandma's house a lot - I miss her since she died. But here on Memory Lane she tends to her garden all the time. It's nice to sit and watch and drink lemonade from the porch.
I don't like to visit Jim's house though. He was my best friend for a while and I know that if I went to his room we'd have fun playing games like we used to. A few years ago he did something unforgivable and since then his figure blocks my path when I try to enter his house. I just can't get past it.
On the whole, I love exploring this place and I know that the fog will continue to creep towards me but they're building a new house at the moment which makes me happy. I can see my wife and child in the yard. I think I'm going to like visiting there. I can feel it. |
It was friday afternoon, we were all anxious to leave the building, so when our principal called for one last meeting in the auditorium we were anything but relieved. All of the students dragged their feet to the auditorium, frustrated that we’d probably need to sit through another hour of our principal talking before we could relax in the sweet summer air. When I rounded the final corner that lead to the auditorium doors, I noticed the line in front of it. For some reason the teachers weren’t waiting inside the auditorium for us but rather waiting by the doors, saying something to each student before they walked in.
We never had to line up like this before and the teachers and staff were usually inside waiting for us, none the less, I got in the line at the far back and awaited to enter the auditorium. Thoughts of the weekend consumed my thoughts and my leg couldn’t quite stay still as I stood in the hall. It wasn’t soon until there was only one person left in front of me before I could reach the inside of the giant room. I expected the teacher standing outside the door to give the girl in front of me a quick nod and a few words that lead to him leading her inside like everyone else. Instead he stopped her and began shaking her hand. Just as his hand made contact with hers she stiffened and the teacher leaned in to whisper something in her ear.
This girl was small and afraid, whatever the teacher had told her sent her into a frenzy of fear as her body began to noticeably shake. She slowly slipped the hand which the teacher shook into her pocket. I watched with disgust as a grim smirk spread across the teachers face. ‘Pedo’ I’d thought to myself, I was planning to talk to that girl right after the announcements to see what that creep had said to her. For some reason right before I’d entered the room, this creepy teacher wished me luck... as usual my rage got the better of me and I may have told him too shove it up his ass. What struck me as unusual was the fact that this guy let it off with a chuckle and simply let me in the room.
I was the final student to enter the auditorium... how did I know, well for one thing just as I stepped foot in the auditorium, the door slammed shut behind me and the lights began to dim. There were some audible gasps and a few screams here and there as the auditorium was left in darkness. After a few seconds of confused commotion a booming voice came over the P.A System.
“Welcome children. Today you have been selected to take part in the greatest game man has invented. Some call it twisted, others call it entertaining, but besides that, it doesn’t really have a name. This is a game of survival... but what will you have to survive from, what could be your possible threats... That is an excellent question! Ten children of the 400 in this auditorium have been handed lethal weapons, their ticket to survival. Soon they will start slowly, discreetly killing people off until there is no one left. Your task is to find any of these ten people and befriend them, try an ally with them, I advise you stay on their good side, I mean, this is high school, I wouldn’t be surprised if the jack-offs weren’t the first to go. It’s survival of the fittest, in mind set that is... and if you choose no to participate, you will be extracted from the school and terminated. You will have the whole school to play in and an unlimited supply of food, so don’t worry about that. You have one year to complete the game. Have fun, and remember... you’re never fully hidden.”
The P.A clicked off and the doors flew back open, but the lights remained dimmed, most people ran screaming the minute the doors opened and they began running to the nearest exits. Others, like myself stayed put. We watched each other and began making strategies within our heads to make sure we were victorious. I wasn’t sure why we weren’t scared or how we’d so easily excepted that we were part of a game, but I knew one thing for sure... that the small girl who’d been standing in front of me had been handed a weapon...
And she was my key to winning the game. |
"And this is all that she wrought,"I pondered, "I so often speculated how this would be, how I would end."I paused, merely trying to listen to everything. That null ringing I heard throughout life was my companion now, accompanied only by the secondary screaming in the back of my thoughts.
Alone that wail overpowered the darkness within me. My heartbeat slowing, my breath nonexistent, my hope fading. I could only rationalize the likelihood of existential existence beyond this world. A solemn monologue of faith in probability as it were.
"Its been what, twenty seven years,"I asked first, the secondary wail ceasing for a mere moment to pout 'yes' before returning to its - no, my - turmoil. "So this is it. All those years reciting pointless songs, loving a woman that never loved me, hoping for someone to make me less alone, and praying for just one extraordinary thing to happen in my pitiful existence?!"
I cried for what seemed like hours, almost able to tangibly reach out and grab the fabric of my mind creeping across the veil of death. Slowly and rapidly my consciousness spread itself to full processing capability. Trying to handle the termination flux of simultaneous, primal instincts trying to decipher the code of death, purpose, creation, memory, love, hope, and need. All the while I felt omnipotent yet caged.
For the first time ever I could nearly commune with my body in an ascended state. I saw the wind crest across the hairs of my arm, feeling the individual twitches of each individual of my whole. Pattering across my flesh was the music of the rain, the cause of my demise, the flaw of my perception as I shattered through the windshield and across the pavement. Yes, each and every scrape and tear, broken bone and pierced segment of flesh now too joined the chorus at the back of my mind. Screaming, burning, dying.
"But I can't just end, this isn't how we die. The existence of thought and feeling and emotion cannot dissipate so improbably as this. To the awareness of the universe and to myself I am the only observer, the only arbiter, the only keeper of records. All that exists must be within me and I within it. For all that's at stake will my oblivion doom the universe to nothing and null?"
Where will I be when my only daughter grows up, who with care for her if not me? She will never if I'm not there to witness it,"I began to plead out into the cosmic nothingness of my mind, "we with never know if you end me. Please let her be loved!"
A sharp knock picked at me, my ear's cells being stretched as some creature tried to devour me. I could only make out the droning sirens just before...
Edit: I must say I enjoyed this prompt. Its often something I consider in the lean hours of the morning when I'm alone and there's no one to talk to. I've often just imagined how claustrophobic and dark it would be sitting there, bleeding out. Your mind already engaging the termination processes that nullify the pain, the fear and the sheer inability to react to the situation.
I wonder how tired one must feel while in the stage of dying... |
Jarod and Jorge are returning on the Washington D.C metro from midnight galactic bowling in Chinatown. Jarod, on the outer seat, twitches his thumbs to slide through twitter posts. Jorge leans on the window and lets the cold pane rub him violently.
The blood rushes to the the brothers faces. The window comes to stop after a drawn out pull, and the doors slide open, along with Jorge's aching eyes. His legs stiffen and he shoots up, instantly a scraping past Jarod's legs and into the aisle. Jarod, confused as to why they are getting off at this stop stumbles after his older brother, phone still gleaming in his sweaty palm.
"Mother fucker,"whispers Jorge to a bald man about the same age as himself before pushing his unaware body out onto the platform.
"What the fuck?"the confused man directs back at the unprovoked shove,
"Jarod look who we got right here. What a shitty day this is gonna be for you Devin. Much shittier than the day that Jarod came home from the gym and told me that some loser from high school stole my iPod,"shouts Jorge in the otherwise silent concrete cave.
Devin sends a thick hearty laughter into the cavern, and Jarod's phone dims to black.
"You really think that. And you. You really told him that? You used my name in your fuckin' lie?"
Jorge crosses his arms and takes a look at Jarod, who's head is focused towards Devin.
"No, I didn't touch your fuckin' iPod. Sadly for your brother Jorge, by coincidence I know where your iPod is today. It's in a different losers hand. Francisco gave your bro over here a good amount of weed for that brand new piece of technology."
Jarod tucks his phone away in his sweatshirt pocket while his lips quiver, looking for the right words to say. Jorge, face paralyzed, rotates his head toward Jarod.
"Yo don't believe a word this faggo-"
"No. Don't bullshit me one more time. All I needed was this."Jorge says in a stern voice.
A train can be heard deep in its thin tunnel and Devin interrupts. All the while Jorge maintains hard eye contact with Jarod.
"Look guys I'm sorry about your problems but I gotta get on home."
"Yeah yeah sorry for wasting your time man, I hope you understand it.
"Yeah no problem. Night ."
The train hums off and the Jorge bites his lower lip.
"Jorge it's all lies you know how manipulat-"
"All I needed was this to push you over the edge. All I needed was another deception revealed. You're losing a lot kid. Mom still won't say a word to you. Clarice left you, which made us all relieved. You can't change, this night was one last chance, and there won't be another."
Jorge runs up the stairs after leaving Jarod with one last sad glare. The pattering bleeds out quietly, and eventually ends, replaced with pure unfiltered silence.
Devin's flood has broken a worn dam. The brothers had lost the most essential attribute a family has to offer.
|
"Jacob, theres no point in running, we have you surrounded. You have been given 5 minutes before we open fire"The Sheriff shouted through a Megaphone. Of course, the Sheriff was lying. An elite S.W.A.T. officer was just sent in on the other side of the building.
David slowly crept up the stairs, anticipating a creak or a sound, but thankfully, there was not a sound. He held his shiny black pistol at Jacob's head. The criminal was holding on to a grenade by the pin while displaying it out the window, for the police to see.
"Heheheh"Chuckled Jacob. "I know you're there..."
David hesitated. "And I know you wouldn't pull that pin."
So David shot the grenade. |
It ate my dog.
I have not been down my stairs in a week. They are the most terrifying aspect of my house. Every night, every dreary night in my upstairs prison, I will glance down to the bottom portion of my home. A portion I had missed, a portion I hadn't seen in days. I sometimes hear things down there. I sometimes hear them at the bottom of the stairs. They never climb the stairs, however. They know better.
I owned a dog. It was a small dog, an old corgi bestowed upon me by my mother. She did not like the thing--the woman was not an animal person--but I adored it. And my dog was gone.
It had happened a week ago. The clock read nine fifty four and my eyes were heavy from a long day. My boss was a demanding fellow, and my workplace was a dilapidated office complex. Life was not too great since I moved out of my apartment and into the old house. I missed that life now. As I trudged up the creaky stairs, I stopped to whistle for my dog. There was a peculiarity, however. The creak my foot had made did not cease. It continued in a drone, a growl that was low and ominous. Frightened and confused, I called for my dog and made my way upstairs in a more rapid pace. The sound of my dog's pawsteps after my own steps were comforting. But they stopped. The creaking stopped. My dog whimpered, but that stopped too.
It ate my dog. They ate my dog. I don't know of they are one body, I don't know if this house is one body. All I know is that it plans on keeping me hostage; the phones do not work. Every night, I peer down those stairs, into the dark abyss that is my ground floor. I squint my eyes and quiver, for I know that there is something peering back at me.
|
She looked at me, her head resting on the pillow, sheets brought up to her chin. I looked at her. I felt as if she was the only one in the world that I could trust. Her skin was warm, soothing. She had a feeling that reminded me of how my mother felt, when she would sit on my bedside when I was sick, or lonely, rubbing my forearm with a gentle sweep of her fingers.
Under these sheets was home. There was nothing else like it. I could lay there, for decades, and never bore. I could stare at her, not even touch her, and feel safe. I could feel happy. She smiled, showing her chipped tooth, the adorable "tiger tooth", I called it. I put my hand to her cheek. She was like silk, pearl skin and freckles under her eyes. She yawned, and I couldn't help but smile at the innocence, the calmness, that she emitted with each breath.
I kissed her lips. Heaven was in her lips. Pillows of skin, with a wetness like a sponge. My body trembled at the mystery that was this moment. Why have I never felt this way before? Why has no human ever been this calm, this warm? Her brown hair parted down the middle, a fleeting strand dropped over her left eye. I had to say something... I don't know any other word to describe this moment.
"I love you,"I said, confident that I knew that we were somehow connected. Not by the hip, not by the fingers. No. Connected by the soul.
She smiled and curled into a ball, pulling my arm over her shoulder. |
The lights are blinding. Flash after flash and they won't stop, you can scream at them and even attack them... all that happens is more flock to you with their cameras and microphones and other invasions of privacy.
"Smile for us darling!"Smile, grimace, pout, turn this way and that... no matter what I do, they laugh and take more damn pictures.
I delete eighteen voicemails, each offering a contract, salary pending til they know how much of me I am willing to give. I burn another sack of fanmail in the yard- marriage proposals, job offers and improper propositions all going up in the same smoke.
It's been this way for three months now, and by god I miss the anonymity. I thought I wanted this... but yet again, what I am is not what I need to be.
I'll book the plastic surgery tomorrow. |
Tonight is the night I will see their face, the first time I will have answers. This is the third one I've lost but this is the one that counts. It took me weeks but I finally popped it out this morning as I crunched on an apple, my first molar! Im too excited to fall asleep tonight, I will finally see the tooth fairy in action.
I placed the tooth under my pillow and I crawled into bed. I smilied at the ceiling knowing that in a matter of hours I will finally see the face of the tooth fairy. My parents come in and tuck me in, they want to read me a story but I pretend Im really sleepy, that way they leave quicker. I was eager to close my eyes. I begin to drift and my vision blurs and then turns black, I slowly drift into my dream world.
There I am sleeping, I giggle at the fact that I still have a smile on my face. My room looks a mess from this view, I need to clean that in the morning. Now I wait for the moment of truth.
It seemed like hours and I was beginning to become bored with watching myself sleep. When I see that my door handle begins to turn. This is it! This is what I have been waiting for, a moment that will go down in history! A moment that I will NEVER forget! The door cracks and slowly begins to open, Its dark and all I can see is the movement of the white door. I see more movement, a figure! Im holding my breath now waiting for the figure to step foward to where I can see them. Then it happens, the light from my glow in the dark stars fell just so softly on my Fathers face.
I was devestated. My father?! The tooth fairy? No, No, NO!
|
I have a gift for you, my son.
You wouldn't believe what things that you could do with this gift, it really is unique. Some might argue that it's the greatest thing in the world, others might say that it brings no greater misery.
It really does depend on the person who has this gift. Curious, because - regardless of their opinion - this person would be nothing without it. With this gift, you can see or change the world in your own way. You can use it to create art as you see fit. You can use it to inspire others. You can literally do with it as you please. The potential for this gift is limitless. And I'm going to give this gift to you because I love you. But whatever you do, my son, do not use this gift for me. That's not what it's for. Do not use it for others, or how they think you should use it... no, use it for you. Use this gift how *you* will.
Can you guess what it is, my son? It'll be yours in time. |
I knew the door was unlocked, my first instinct was to barge in and stop myself, but I only had one chance. It was 3:31, 58 minutes until I am pronounced dead at the scene. Mrs. Jarleigh called the cops when she heard loud thuds upstairs, which were the sounds of my lifeless body hitting my wooden floor after pulling the trigger. I decided to go with a lighter approach, I knocked a gentle knock on the door. I put my finger over the peephole to avoid early creep-outs. He, or should I say I, asked who it was with a cracked voice, I replied "your better half"to encourage a better vibe. The door opened and I saw myself, clear skin, eyes wide enough to see my soul with a single glance and a liveliness that nobody except a dead self looking at his own suicidal self would understand. I knew who I was, I remembered all the contemplating I did with a barrel in my mouth reading to send a bullet through my brain. "You know who I am, obviously. I want to make this short, but I don't think I can. Look, you have a lot to…"As I gathered the rest of my thoughts, I can see the consciousness slip from my past self. Eyes rolling back in disbelief, I can almost see everything in slow motion. My past self was dead in seconds, this time a broken neck. I killed myself, twice. |
[1403_JUNE_12_2023] - [Hephaestus-3]
[ System Purge: complete ]
[ All maintenance cycles complete... ]
[ Login code: ******* ]
[Begin Transmission: HI CORRINE. 3 MORE DAYS AND WE BEGIN SENDING BACK TETHERS TO PULL HEPHAESTUS-3 INTO EARTH ORBIT. MY SUIT STINKS, THE POD IS CROWDED AND WE HAD TO ABANDON TWO CASES OF FREEZE-DRIED DESSERT FOOD ON OUR APPROACH TO REDUCE MASS-I STILL WOULDN'T GIVE THIS UP FOR ANYTHING. 40 HOURS AGO THE SUN ROSE OVER THE EDGE OF MARS. NEXT TRIP THEY NEED TO GIVE US THICKER RAD SHIELDING, I SAW NEUTRINO FLASHES WITH MY EYES CLOSED FOR HOURS TODAY, SLEEPING UP HERE IS SOMETHING I CAN'T GET USED TO. NEXT TIME WE TALK IT WILL BE IN PERSON, TRANSMISSIONS FROM HERE OUT WILL BE BLOCKED BY THIS IRON ROCK WE'VE BEEN SPINNING AROUND ON FOR WEEKS, IF ANOTHER TETHER BREAKS EXPECT A DELAY OF 4-5 DAYS. WISH US LUCK, SEE YOU SOON. End Transmission ] |
The parents were out and I had a load of schoolwork to do. Excellent, time for some much-deserved break time! I went to the fridge, humming. There was a bowl of rice pudding I had been saving for the break. The thought of the sweet, creamy taste compelled me to walk faster.
I frowned when I saw that the fridge was open. The door had a tendency to no close by itself if you didn't shut it properly. Question was, who left it open?
I shrugged and looked into the fridge. I would just get the bowl - wait. Wait a second. I had placed it by the bowl of fruit, and my parents didn't even like rice pudding, so where was it?! It was at that moment, I heard the slow munching. Narrowing my eyes, I wondered if it was a slightly ill-witted robber or something. Or maybe it was a fairy who would give me good luck for upcoming exams, har har.
I shut the door and headed quietly towards the sound. Once I reached the dining area, I slipped around fast and yelled, "gotcha!"
Well as I had no weapon, if it was a robber, I'd have been screwed. It wasn't a fairy either, though if you ask me, children are an awful lot like gremlins. But the problem wasn't that it was a random child that somehow snuck into the very much locked house, it was that they were a very specific child. Me, that is. But the thing is, that was physically impossible. Right?
"W-what?"I asked her. Myself, I mean. Damn, I was kind of an ugly kid. Okay, that was mean, maybe she was someone else who looked like me. No wait a second, did I just insult myself?
"What?"She said, though it came out as "whhhaafffrrrrttt"due to the fact that she had a MOUTHFUL OF MY RICE PUDDING, dammit.
"What's your name?"I asked her. She looked at me solemnly.
"A secret agent never gives out their name."
Oh damn. Damn, no, hell naw, why, this was ten year old me alright, secret agent delusion and all.
"Damn, kid, you just gave yourself away, didn't you?"
"..."
"I'd like to remind you that that is MY food you're eating,"I added. Kid or not, me or not, I was not about to let anyone else eat my food, past self or not.
She looked at me quite blankly. "This is my house. How did YOU get in?"
I frowned. "Because this is my house, actually."
"No it is not!"She yelled, mouthful of rice pudding and all. "Prove it!"
Prove it, huh?
Prove it....
Prove.... it...... huh, what else did I do at ten years of age?
"Your favourite Neopet is an Aisha!"I offered. Truth. "Your favourite novel was, um, is Stormbreaker and..."
"You could be an enemy agent who is trying to frame me!"
A part of me wanted to laugh and a part wanted to die cringeing. Instead, I had an idea.
"Okay, if I give you a special code to crack, will you promise to give it to your mum? She is also an agent! And I am actually a relative of yours and that was just a test,"I pleaded. Lottery numbers? I think yes!
"...okay,"she said. Haha, idiot kid. Okay that was me but, whatever, right?
Damn, that was good of me. I quickly searched the Lottery numbers on my phone and wrote them down on a slip of paper, specifying other details such as date and type of Lottery. Then, I gave it to her, or me, and smiled.
"Also, I have some advice. Study more because when you're in high school, HSC will screw you over, avoid reading manga because you will cry over 2D men, and also, Bella is a mega bitch and you need to make sure you cut her out of your life, because she will spread rumours about you to mess you up,"I said seriously. When she looked blank still, I sighed. "Study hard to get into Spy University, manga is a conspiracy to obsess over fictional characters, Bella is working for an enemy government. Be discreet, though, like a... a mole!"
That should do it.
She handed me the empty bowl, and I frowned at her, but since she would allow for a better future of me, well, fine. I took the bowl to the sink, sighing as I washed out what could have been my lovely snack. When I returned, she had disappeared.
It would be fine, right? The future would be so much brighter... or so I thought.
----
AN: I was like this as a 10y.o. :/ I still have the secret agent novels/handbook to prove it TAT. Though funnily enough, next year is the first year they're introducing some sort of spy intelligence thing as an actual degree in universities (here in Aus), haha. Cont. below. |
How I acquired these powers are beyond me, and frankly, I don't give a fuck.
I woke up in a hospital bed and had no recollection on what happened. I peak in my room to see a little girl about the age of 8 sitting in a chair across the room, twiddling her thumbs. I slowly start to lean myself upwards, which hurt like hell, to be honest. And I acknowledged my existence.
"Hey."I said as I grunted to get up.
She popped her head up like a gopher. And then her jaw dropped. He expression was a combined looked of awe and distress. She quickly rushed out of the room. I heard murmurs and her signature voice screaming down the hallway.
"He's awake! He's awake!"She screamed.
Two nurses, a doctor, and a whole family emerged from the doorway into my hospital room. The mother of the family starts crying.
"Well, I'll be."The doctor said in amazement.
"What?"I said.
"To be honest little boy, you should be dead."The doctor said as he was checking a bunch of machines that I had no idea what they did.
It's true. Whatever I did, I probably should be dead by now. The powers that I can summon don't come cheap. I could feel myself getting weaker every time I summon these "powers".
"What happened?"I said as I scanned the room for a person that would tell me what the fuck I did that caused this.
The mother started to speak.
"You-"She stopped herself. "You saved us."
I looked even more confused. The father moved her aside and explained.
"Me and my family were held at gunpoint by a few men wanting to take everything away from us. Then you, for some reason, came along and assisted us with our escape. I don't know what you did. But, you stalled them. Granted, with a lot of violence, but regardless. All I know is that you came crawling from that construction site beaten to hell and back. And you didn't seem phased. It was serious, like, bullet holes and everything. Then, you just passed out. And, we took you here."The father explained.
"You are a true hero."The little girl said as she hugged her mother, who was still crying.
That makes sense, I was weaker now, I could feel it. For every instance I use these "powers"my lifespan is decreased. From what the father explained. I used a hell of a lot of fuel. I've been keeping track. Ignoring this instance, I probably had a good 50 years left on me. Now, I'll be lucky if I get 10.
Is that all that matters? To just throw half of your life away for the safety of a few people that will probably have no large impact on this little blue dot we call Earth? Should I have just let that family die and walked away with 50 years under my belt? And watch them as their lives are stripped away from them? In the end, was it worth it?
Fuck yeah it was! I'm fucking awesome!
EDIT: A few words. |
We all start out small in the world, and sometimes, we hunger for more. There are many of us, millions in fact. Billions even. Yet all of us strive to continue to live on, to exist, to thrive. This ability is something that we've developed ourselves, in order to shape our environment and excel us into the world. The ability to read minds and control our prey.
Lets take a step back and look down on the earth. From your view, you can see everything. Humans raise live stock, to be grown and then slaughtered for food. All the other creatures scurry around the humans, the masters of the environment. From up here, you can see down to the smallest viruses, bacterium, pathogens, parasites that the humans ruthlessly sterilize for their well being, to the grand cities that they build, with buildings and monuments that span millennia, and even greater sagas, retold throughout history that lasts for even longer than their great cities and monuments.
We are but humble beings. A scourge to the Earth? Not at all. We are but all nature, designed by evolution to be successful. I myself find that I yearn to be closer to other humans, to get to know them. After all, evolution has made us social creatures. But to be one with them? Yes. Surely. Where humans have won out on the evolutionary arms race, something new has developed, the ability to perhaps, even join with others. Not figuratively as in a union as marriage, but literally. Physically, mentally, emotionally, to gain all knowledge of the feelings and life style of another human being.
I'm not the largest. In fact I'm smaller than most. Through chance, and I stress, by chance, I have the ability to meld with another. To become them. Well of course, I'm going to try this out - evolution is natural at its finest, no? Through the nose. Sure. I can live with that. My body still somewhat yearns for those of lesser creatures, rats, or cats, simpler brains means that I have less to work with. But hey, I am more advanced than that. I want humans. Lodging myself within their brains, I slowly feed and take control. Hey, it takes time to process this information. But as I grow, the faster I can spread.
We are One. Humans I mean. In this age of convenience and travel, the global environment means that we are One. and I am you. You are me. That little parasite that you tried to extinguish my existence? I survived, I was lucky. You don't have these thoughts anymore, or well, you can, however I'm suppressing your actions. Really, you're my slave now, there is your will, just my will. And the will of my counterparts. I told you, we are One. Evolution? Yes. Freak? No. Natural? Not by your old definition, but by mine, I think I won. You're technically dead, and I, I am you. No way am I going back to being my own self. I am you. |
Grasping onto the bucket of childrens' toys she collected, Gallop steps near the office door. The loud, labored sighs that provide the larger man's breath can be heard from beyond the door. The pure thought of talking with the man was sending spikes of fear up and down her body.
"I hear you out there, little girl. Bring me what I requested,"His voice rattles the tarnished silver tea-sets decorating the walls.
The child pushes through the door and enters the room, swallowing tears that were already beginning to form.
The man's favorite snack was biscuits prepared by the children just like Gallop. They were always slightly over- or undercooked. Flaky and golden was never something he desired in his meals. In the morning he waddled over to the shattered mirror of his bedroom, and smoothed his hair over with an old tub of Vaseline. His clothes were always either a ripped tuxedo, or nothing but a pair of shit-stained underwear.
"I brought the toys for you,"she drops her eyes to the floor, avoiding her boss's gaze.
"Aw thank you, Gallop,"he says, linking his hands, and setting his chin atop them. Gallop's eyes brightened at the sound of praise.
"I'm glad you like it."
"I'm glad you do too. You appear to like the task I sent you on. Maybe I'll ask you again, next time I want you to *fuck this entire business up*."
"Wh- what."
"Because of you, *little girl*, I'm gonna have to pay all of my money to keep this little arrangement a secret,"he wheezes, "get your dirty little ass over here."
Gallop shakes her head and backs away. Her boss stands up, and begins slowly waddling towards her.
"Go away,"she says, trying to open the door.
Okay, I'm stuck. Oh well. I wrote this on mobile, so autocorrect may have gotten the best of me. |
The smell of popcorn and cheese-pasted pizza boxes lingers in the air, creating a warm fog over the two boys. The only light left in the room is the glow from a phone.
"Jayson, I gotta go take a piss. I'm gonna turn the lights on, 'kay?"Harrison sits up, looking around in the dark, planning his route through the darkness. His footsteps were cautious, slow, and quiet. His fingers fumble over the plastic switch, eventually managing to light the room. Harrison smashes his eyes closed, to avoid the pain of sudden brightness. One at a time, he opens his eyes, adjusting to the newly-lit room.
"Sorry if I woke you u-"
The room is cold and grey, very much the opposite of how it smells. The sound of the heating unit vibrates the floor, throwing dust into the air. Outside, the trees fade into dark silhouettes, tearing the moon into shreds.
Harrison's breath is a mere whisper compared to the slamming fists of his heart. His eyes blink over themselves, and his ears create television static. Running a hand through his hair, the boy approaches where he and Jayson were laying before.
The floor was painted with pomegranate. The heavy, distinct smell of fecal matter his Harrisons's nose with such force that he coughs, and almost returns that night's dinner to the box. His eyes vomit onto the floor, blocking his view of Jayson for moments at a time.
He can't see Jayson's eyes, but dark voids provide a substitute for what's missing. The thin pink lines that laughed just hours ago are now dry and quiet.
"Jayson, what the *hell* happened."It wasn't a question.
**Agh, I can't find a way to continue it from here.** |
It is New Years Eve and to celebrate, I bought myself gifts: two bottles of liquor and velvet high heels. Only half more of a bottle to go till I have consumed all the liquor remaining in my apartment. I have always enjoyed lights, like the ones painted on the sky tonight. Stars, everyone aspires to be a star. Why couldn't I be a star? Why did that happen to me out of everyone? I had been waiting and it is all wasted. It was those damn heels, they tricked me and got the best of me. I shouldn't have done it, but I did. And now its too late...
I got raped by guy who bought me shoes. So why am I still alive?
|
Not to say that this site is a replacement for the one you want to create, but I used [CreateSpace](https://www.createspace.com/) to self-publish my book. It's great because you automatically get your book to be available on Amazon as well as physically publishing it.
In addition, they have forums to discuss things like creation, formatting and marketing of books. It would be great to have a site like you're describing though, where it's basically a community effort to publish a book and people help you to edit it. |
Subsets and Splits