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When the news about the bugs hit, I damn near killed myself laughing. We’ve survived interstellar flight, a bizarre bureaucratic nightmare of a Galactic Alliance (some alliance that turned out to be), even accidentally launching multiple colony ships to “binary star systems” which turned out to just be supernovas (honestly, if I had a nickel for every time we’d done that…. Well, I’d only have two nickels, but it’s weird it happened twice). Anyway – after all that, it’s the overused “ravenous swarm of space bugs” that’s in every good and bad sci-fi film and game for the last fifty years which ends up being what finishes us off.
***Tries*** *to finish us off*, a little voice at the back of my head insists, and I growl in agreement. The bugs have taken eleven of our twelve planets from us – the Alpha Centauri colonies, the bases on Mars and Titan, even the industry on the Moon. But humans still draw breath on Earth, our home world. And I’ll be damned if I let them take it from us.
Behind us, the vault doors close with a resounding **thud**. We all groaned when we saw them for the first time – I mean, if you’re going to steal from post-apocalyptic fiction there’s better options than Fallout, c’mon – but it turns out that that really is the best way to build a bloody tough door to keep out the ravenous little shits. The many extra layers of protection begin engaging over it: blast shielding, defensive turrets, even some prototype force shields it turns out the military had been developing. Inside are all of our families, our loved ones, our enemies, that one friend you haven’t spoken to in ages but have to wave at if you pass them in traffic... all of humanity. We’re spread across nine of these mega-bunkers across Earth, each with its own set of shields and turrets and gang of crazy last-ditch defenders standing outside.
And that’s where I come in. Before the bugs attacked I wasn’t a soldier – hell I wasn’t much of anything. I had a decent job in the city, I played a lot of games, I had friends and went to bars and tried to meet people. Just a plain old normal person. But as most of the military got injured or killed fighting their retreat back home, pretty much anyone who could and would fight was given crash training in firearms and – if you volunteered – some pretty radical implants and splicing. I tensed one arm, and I felt the cable-like muscles constrict around my reinforced bones – not that I could see them, encased as they were in the thick plate-like armour we all wore. When all of our industry is turned over to producing arms and armour, turns out we make some pretty choice stuff. I’ve even got speakers wired into the headset, so I can listen to my choice of music as I fight and die here.
*Fight, yes. Die? No.* That little voice insisted. I don’t know where it came from, but as the first wave of bugs came over the crest of the plains ahead of us, I clung to that little spirit of defiance for all I was worth. Outwardly, I clung just as tightly to my father’s old shotgun – he was long passed, and to be honest I never knew why I’d kept it in my apartment. Probably violated all kinds of laws, unlicensed gun and all – not that it matters now. But I knew somehow that it had to be the weapon I fought the final fight with, along with the proper military rifle I had slung on my back. And when I’d caught sight of myself in the shiny side of one of the tanks that had deployed with us, I knew exactly what music I would play.
I tapped once on the side of my helmet and brought the shotgun up, and charged forwards from the orderly ranks behind me, powered forwards by the best metal soundtrack the world has ever known. Orders were shouted desperately after me, but I have only one commandment now. | 507 | The galaxy watches as the humans are on their last leg protecting their plant from a parasitic species of invaders. What everyone failed to realize was how brutal humans could become when backed into a corner and hyped up with music. | 1,466 |
"Two gold," the merchant said. "She's a special chicken, this one. Spits fire and is able to speak."
"That's a fire hazard," Annie countered. "She could burn down my barn. And who wants a fowl that can complain and argue? Two silvers, and you should count yourself lucky to get rid of her at that price."
"Excuse me, I'm right here. I can hear you!" Daisy the hen squawked. "And I think I'm damned well worth at least five gold, you cretins."
Annie and the merchant exchanged a look. "Case in point," Annie added, folding her arms squarely over her chest.
"Fine. Four silver, and I'll be happy to see the last of her."
"Three."
The merchant threw up his arms in exasperation. "All right, all right. Three. Take her and begone, you merciless farmgirl."
Annie slipped out three silver pieces from her coinpurse, depositing them in the merchant's outstretched hand.
"All yours," he grumbled, and she scooped up the cage that Daisy was in. As Annie turned to head back home, out of the corner of her eye, she caught the beginning of a sly smile on the merchant's face. Damn. She could have probably gotten him down to one silver.
Once they were back at the barn, Annie let Daisy out of the cage and into the chicken coop. Instead of joining the other chickens, Daisy turned and looked straight into Annie's eyes.
"Now, this is how things are going to be," Daisy said. "I need to hunt every day. You'll let me out of the coop every morning and every night so I can procure my meals."
"You're a *chicken,"* Annie replied. "You can't hunt. More likely, a wolf will have you for dinner and my three silvers will have gone to waste. No, you're staying in the coop."
Daisy squawked with laughter. "A wolf? I'd like to see him *try*. Don't you know who you're talking to, missy? I'm the descendant of Sezzira, Lady of Fire, Destroyer of Cities. No mere *wolf* could match me."
"Any old chicken could claim that," Annie replied. "And besides, I haven't even seen you breathe fire yet. Your whole story is probably nothing but a pile of balderdash."
In one fluid movement, Daisy spun away from the barn, opened her mouth, and let loose a 20-foot plume of blazing flame into the sky.
Annie shut up.
"Right, now that we've got that over with, back to my demands," Daisy continued on. Behind her, the other chickens were running away, falling over one another in a blind panic.
"I need to hunt, and I'll need a hoard. Preferably full of gold, but I'll make do with coppers in a pinch."
\---
/r/theBasiliskWrites | 414 | Much like dinosaurs, mythical dragons have all gone extinct. What people don't know is that, like dinosaurs, the dragons also have their descendants. One day on your farm, you encounter a talking, ember-spitting chicken, bent on "restoring their clan." | 3,118 |
Who's running a tractor-trailer outside at 3 AM? I yawned, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Sitting up on the bed, I shielded my face from the bright beam coming through the window, looking down at the curtains I'd been putting off installing.
*Thump*. I jumped as thoughts of a burglar ran through my mind, suddenly wishing that I had opted for that home alarm when I bought the house. Instinctively, I looked around for the source, and when I saw none I threw myself on the floor, thinking I would roll under the bed. *Thump.* A cracking sound came from the direction of the window, and as I worked on getting under the bed as fast as I could, the reflection of glass shards on the floor met my eye. Please, please, I thought, just leave me alone.
*Crash!* The window exploded, glass transforming into shrapnel. Pain seared through my thigh. I looked down transfixed in fear as blood slowly spilled from the wound out onto the floor, not noticing the enormous green tentacle that was squirming like a serpent toward me until it was within inches of my face. "Uhh, uhh, uhhhhhh!" I tried to scream in terror, but could only manage a squeal as it wrapped itself around my body and began retracting. Within moments I was in the air, firmly within its grasp as it took me to... a ship?
The craft was small, no larger than the truck I first envisioned as the source of the beam, its top a shiny surface that glowed in the moonlight. The light it emitted downward in all directions was as blinding as it had been when I awoke, fully illuminating the nearby woods almost as if it were the sun. Suddenly more curious than terrified, I tried to study every detail as the tentacle pulled me towards a hole in the bottom of the ship.
A dark orange light bathed the chamber inside, making the details of what I was looking at hard to see. Strange instruments and panels lined the walls, occasionally lighting up or speaking in some kind of high-pitch whinny sound. Most strange was a mirror in which my reflection didn't quite look right. On it was a younger version of myself, perhaps from a few years ago before I decided to go bald as a result of hair loss.
I looked at the mirror closely for several moments, trying to decipher the meaning, when the figure inside suddenly moved in the direction opposite of where it should have been based on my own movements. It was only then that I realized it wasn't a mirror at all - I was looking at a younger doppelganger of myself! The green tentacle had grabbed the other me and was already pushing them downwards outside of the hole. "Wait!" I said to no one at all as I looked down the hole, calculating if I could somehow escape by sliding down that very same tentacle.
No sooner than had I formulated a plan, the hole closed all at once and the light in the room changed from orange to red. Something clicked in my brain and suddenly the whinny noises made sense.
"Welcome home, Unit EARTH#132232. Please approach the pod for data collection."
I did what I was told, suddenly remembering exactly where I needed to go to get there, my eyes having instantly adjusted to the red light in the ship such that everything was more than crystal clear. Yes, I had forgotten how poor human eyesight really was. When I arrived at the machine I knew exactly where to place the nodes so that the data from my mission could be sent to the central computer.
Yet I could still feel my human form, remember my years down there in the primitive hellscape they called Earth. There was the touch of my wife's hand on my face, the taste of the water untainted with uranium, and the gatherings with friends that my victim had made where camaraderie was shared. For a brief moment, I questioned the morality of the mission, my thoughts abetted by my recollection that the other version of me was already dead and that the arm was just putting the body back in the bed for them to discover in the morning.
The nodes washed away the last of those thoughts. | 58 | As it turns out a few years ago you were killed in your sleep and replaced with an alien parasite. Considering you have not exhibited anything unusual all this time this news came as a shock to all, most of all yourself | 362 |
"Bam!"
A loud sound came from the closing of the door.It was Michael,John's childhood friend.They decided to meet at a coffee shop after nearly ten years.
"Oh,hello!My dear Mike!Long time no see!"
"Yeah",John sighed,
"What's wrong?"
"My wife is in the hospital."
"Really?What happened?"
Even though they hadn't seen each other for a long time,they had been chatting over the Internet for quite some time now.
"She was standing at the bus station,waiting for the bus to arrive,but then...a hanging signboard over her head came down falling.She has several bone fractures,skull fracture,and a pneumothorax."
"Oh,I am so sorry I asked you to meet me here today."
"No,it's fine.Remember the four promises we made when we were teenagers?"
"Yes."
"Never gonna give you up."
"Never gonna let you down."
"Never gonna make you cry."
"Never gonna say goodbye."
"The doctors are giving her treatment right now.But,I'm afraid I have to go now."
"Oh,no problem."
John's smile fades away as Michael leaves.He looks at the batista and smiles,"Coffee for one please".
The batista of the coffee shop says "Wait hold on..." | 19 | You must implement the lyrics from the original rickroll in a short story. | 67 |
The kid was sitting on the side of his bed, kicking his legs and shovelling doritos in his mouth with a sticky paw. He sat staring thoughtfully at the demon like this for several seconds.
"I'm Blagg the offendor, minion of the master of the twelfth realm. You, erm, summoned me?" Blagg cleared his throat nervously.
The kid wiped his mouth. "You stink", he said matter of factly.
"Well, er yes it's known about demons, we do tend to be quite smelly. Now i see you're all ready for halloween. It's actually my favourite time to go out and scare people. Is there someone you'd like me to menace?"
"I'm Craig and I'm a DOOMSLAYER, we slay demons for a LIVING", said Craig, leaping up on the bed to emphasise his full height, all 4ft of 8 yr old might. He pointed his cardboard super shotgun at the demon and started making "pew pew" noises. This somewhat annoyed Blagg the offendor.
"Well Craig, look at you all fierce and powerful. Looks like you're the master of me. How about you let me take a look at that gun of yours?" Blagg leered at Craig.
"Sure you can have a look but be careful, my Dad made it and he spent like 3 hours on it".
Blagg took the weapon, and using his connections to the twelfth dimension, subtely shifted its reality. Craig took it back and immediately dropped it in astonishment. "Heyy it's heavy! What did you do??"
"It's real now Craig. Also, check out your suit. That's full armour, you can jump higher than a house and you can take a hit from a tank. Only one, mind. You're not invincible. Oh, and that tube on your shoulder is a RPG launcher. Now go out and meet your friends and have some fun".
"All right! Stinky Blagg you're the best!" Craig ran downstairs and out through the front door, the hydraulics of his suit sounding out into the crisp halloween air.
The mayhem that followed went down in history as the worst destruction ever witnessed in Dexter, Maine. Houses without candy were blown sky high. A police helicopter was blown out of the sky. Reports of the tiny green ninja with the rocket launcher were flooding the emergency lines the whole night.
However demons know better than to put paid to their main source of fun. Miraculously nobody was hurt. Craig went to bed exhausted and when he woke up, the demon was gone and the costume and the gun was a pile of dirty soggy cardboard.
Police are still on the lookout for a tiny green assailant with an rpg and a shotgun, believed to be a terrorist. | 230 | You are a demon who loves to be summoned on Halloween to scare people. This time, it’s different. A kid in a Doom cosplay wielding toy guns decided to summon you and you decide to be generous | 459 |
"WHO SUMMONS DARETHIAL?!"
The only sound is a child sobbing. I look around. There is no one here until I look down. On the ground, outside the circle, is a small child. The pain from this child is heady, but it is not from me. The fear is intoxicating, but it is not my fear. The anger, oh, the anger. Anger is my meat and potatoes. It is all mine. This child is angry beyond belief.
"CHILD, WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"My father."
That is the owner of the pain.
"My mother."
That is the owner of the fear.
This child pours out their soul before me. I am a demon of hell. I usually am summoned by greedy bastards who seek immortality that they do not deserve. Cases such as this child go to The Other.
These parents do not believe in The Other. Not even slightly. The Other would have little power over them.
I, on the other hand, have great power over them. They have offended my master. They have offended The Other. And most of all, they have offended the flesh of their flesh, the blood of their blood, the bone of their bone.
To the core of my soul, this child's soul cries out, not for revenge. Not for vengeance. But for succor, for itself, and its siblings.
My soul moves for this child.
"YOU SHALL SUFFER NO MORE. RELEASE ME."
A tiny hand, bone thin, reaches out from under the thin blanket. The circle is broken as that hand snatches itself back under the blanket.
I see something else that sets my wrath burning bright. The blanket is encrusted with loose earth. This child was left for dead in a shallow grave, wrapped in this thin blanket that is hardly sufficient for a malnourished child.
"TAKE MY HAND, CHILD, SO THAT I MIGHT PROTECT YOU AND YOUR SIBLINGS."
That too-slender hand reaches out and grabs my hand with a force that cannot be denied. I hiss in pain at the strength of that grip, which relaxes with a sobbing "sorry."
"BE NOT SORRY. WERE IT NOT FOR YOUR STRENGTH, I WOULD NOT BE HERE, AND YOUR SIBLINGS WOULD STILL BE IN DANGER. I GIFT YOU WITH A PORTION OF MY STRENGTH THAT WE MAY SAVE YOUR SIBLINGS."
Still sobbing, but now with vigor, the child stands and holds my hand as a child holds a beloved parent's hand for safety and assurance. My soul stirs in ways that I do not understand.
"THINK OF WHERE YOU AWOKE."
A flash of panic eased by a gentle squeeze of the child's hand. The panic subsides. A dark road, some distance from the road, a shallow grave. This field is nothing but shallow graves. Each filled with one or more children in the same sad state as this one, but without the burning will to live so he might save his siblings.
I can see their footsteps. They are the most recent to use this place, but they are not the first nor the only. We track them back to the road, thence to a large house well bedecked with All Hallows Eve decorations. This is an affluent neighborhood; why does the entire place stink of fear and despair?
On this night when mischief is most free, this neighborhood reeks of conformity in fear of one's life. The children in their bright costumes are quiet and orderly. Older children guide the younger, not cruelly, but with the only love these children know. Adults are feared, save for a few, none of whom live anywhere near. In each house, children on the brink of adulthood stand at the doors in their costumes. They are waiting for the other children to come to the door and carry out a macabre ritual with more fear than hope. Who will not come tonight? Who will never be seen or spoken of again?
Where are the adults?
Ah. They gather in the large house on the hill. The one this child once called home, until driven to desperation this child struck back at the abusers. Not in fear of its own life but in fear for another. An older sibling who stepped forward to protect this child.
"THE ONE YOU FOUGHT TO PROTECT STILL LIVES BUT IS IN NEED OF MEDICAL ATTENTION." I feel that tiny, thin hand grow stronger than steel. "GOOD. YOU MUST ENTER THE HOUSE AND RALLY THE CHILDREN. ANY YOU WOULD SAVE MUST BE OUT OF THE HOUSE BY DAWN. NONE WHO REMAIN WILL SURVIVE MY WRATH."
That tiny hand squeezes mine and fades into the shadows. In time, a line of children moving like shades trickles from the house. Soon enough, the child returns, nodding to me. The one who summoned me fades into the gathering mists, joining those mists as they flow towards this house filled with horrors walking in human skin.
It is time. My wrath feeds the mists and gives them form and function. The mists rise over the mansion like towering thunderstorms, crashing onto the roof like silent waves. What comes after is anything but silent. The terror is exquisite, the more so because those experiencing it thought themselves immune. I howl with glee to hear the begging of these monsters in human flesh. "No! I am important!" "Get away! Get away from me!" "You! You are dead! We buried you!"
That last becomes the final words of every soul in this place. As they depart the mortal coil, I gather them—my payment for my services—finally, silence reigns.
With the dawn only moments away, small figures depart the house, making their way to where I stand. Each thanks me before fading into the coming light.
When the dawn light strikes the ridge of the mansion, it bursts into flames. The mansion burns to the ground. No rescue services come. No one in the houses below would call aid for these. Not when they are celebrating their first all saints day, in truth. Their loved ones are safe, and the evil ones are no more.
My heart swells with the praises that are heaped upon me by the children.
*DARETHIAL, YOU ARE NO LONGER FIT FOR HELL. WILL YOU ACCEPT A DIFFERENT CHARGE?*
If it is in service to these children, then gladly.
Another hand touches me in a way I have not felt since the rebellion. The grim mask of a demon falls away, and the grace of an angel is restored.
This will not do, none who seek to harm children will fear this form. I am reminded of another fearsome form. One that protects many places from evil. My body becomes misshapen again, seemingly made from stone, and I adopt a perch on the gateway to this community.
Wherever they go, I will know, and my protection will go with them.
Fear me, abusers, for I know more of abuse than you can conceive.
((finis)) | 345 | You're a demon being summoned. You expected to meet a power hungry fool asking for immortality etc. What you did not expect was a crying child asking for help. | 426 |
Another day of being summoned, I hate being summoned. I prefer to spend time alone and avoid summoning duty, but I have to get paid somehow. I say the usual scripted response to being summoned “Human, now that you’ve summoned me know that all I do comes at a price, this ranges from your precious earthly possessions and your soul, do you agree to these terms?”. At this point humans usually back off realizing that summoning is a terrible idea and I get sent back to hell, but to my surprise she actually agreed. “Very well human, what is it that you wish, what you want will determine the price”. She responded with the strangest request I ever heard “what will it cost to have you hang out with me?”. I was stunned, a human wanted to hang out with a demon. “Human, you summoned me, on of the most powerful demons in hell, just to hang out?”. Also yes I am one of the most powerful demons, I have to do something in my solitude, so I just build up my power. “Yes” I stared at her with a confused look on my face, “very well human, if this is your wish, seeing as how it is minor I will be taking 1 week of life from your soul”. “So what do you humans do for fun”, “I typically just watch t.v.”, “also you don’t have to call me human, my name is Emily, what’s yours”. This was strange, for the first time in 500 years someone wanted to know my name. “I am known as Ebinoth, but my friends, if I had any would call me eb”. “Wait, you don’t have friends?” Emily asked that question with suprise. “Unlike most demons, instead of hanging out around earth disqised as humans causing mayhem, I just spend my time in hell alone growing my power or playing with my hell hound.”. “What’s it like being a demon?”. “Emily, why are you so interested in demons?” “I’ve been interested in demons ever since I was a little, I get dreams of being in a fiery place, I assume hell, and I always look up to see a demon who looked like you crying”. When I heard this my mind started racing, what she described wasn’t hell it was me holding the dead body of my wife in the last holy war, in which the only survivor, was me. No one should have memory of that, in less they got reincarnated, but the only being that can reincarnate demons is god.
Part 2? | 39 | You’re a Demon who’s just been summoned. You expect to be given some horrible task to complete, turns out your summoner just wanted someone to keep them company. | 191 |
The sun was bright, and I merrily trudged along my way. The many pots on my back rattled and banged, a parade for me. I grinned to myself, thoughts of food compelling me. The little plants that made meat taste strange but good. The bigger plants that cooked like meat.
I saw someone ahead, one who glittered in the sun. I wiped my chest, making sure no remnants of my morning meal remained. The small people liked to be neat, that much I knew. Strange custom, that. Surely it was better to show you liked food by letting it run down, so you could taste again later?
I shook my head. No matter. I must make good impression. A flash shot up in my mind, the gift my last stranger had given me. It was a small hat, made for their heads. It was tall and round, like a trunk. But it was white, and folded weird. It would make me seem different to my non-cooking family. I hoped it would be enough. I hated fighting.
I struggled to get it place on my head. The wind tried to blow it off, so I kept a hand on it. I needed something to hold it on. Maybe this small person could help me with that. I hoped so. So many started off mean, but they changed their tune after a while.
"I don't want to fight you ogre. Please return home."
They shouted at me, keeping a hand on their sharp stick. I held up one hand, remembering it was a sign of peace for them. I grumbled out my words, focusing hard to make them understandable.
"Grumbo no wish to fight. Grumbo going to Capy-tul to cook. Grumbo heard of cooking competition."
The person stood there, looking up at me. Their voice came again, disbelief evident.
"Cooking? Are you saying you're a chef?"
I nodded happily. That is what they had called me before. Chef!
"Yes! Grumbo good chef. Make boar taste good with little plants."
Their small hand reached up to scratch their head. I grinned at them, carefully moving my hand away from the tiny hat. I kept it nearby for when the wind came, to catch it.
"An ogre chef? That's... OK. Fine. Listen I hate to break the bad news to you but they aren't going to just let you in."
I frowned. The others had been encouraging when they left. Why was this one not?
"Why not? Grumbo no hurt people. Grumbo feed people. Make people strong like Grumbo."
The person sighed. They squeezed the front on their face.
"Listen... you're an ogre. Ogres terrify people. They hear of how you like to eat us. You go in, you are just going to get slaughtered."
I pouted.
"But... Grumbo promise to no hurt."
They sighed again.
"I can see that. But they won't... unless..."
Their eyes went vague. I shifted nervously. Something about this person gave me pause. I wasn't a good fighter, I knew that. But this person was completely out of my league.
"Ok. I have actually been trying to prove for a while beings like ogres and goblins aren't all evil. Some of you are genuinely nice. So, I can help you get in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour ok?"
I nodded, before wincing as my hat fell. I tried to catch it, but the cloth was too small for me. My heart sank as it fell to the dirt. I had tried so hard to keep it clean. But before it touched the person darted forwards, catching it. I grinned at them.
"Grumbo thanks you."
"You're welcome I guess. My names Reolia by the way."
Reolia held up my hat, smiling.
"But first I think we need to make this fit you better." | 30 | Your name is Grumbo and you’re an ogre chef. You are traveling to the “Capy-tul” to participate in a cooking competition and are accosted by many adventurers on your way. | 71 |
At first, I didn't realize how slow it was. I didn't dare to look back as I saw how big and loud it was so I assumed it had been at my back the whole time. I have run several marathons before so running isn't such a difficult feat but running from this guy was tough. I took my first look back when I realized that my breathing was louder than this monster's growls and footsteps. To my amazement he looked so small in the distance. I slowed down to get a better look and this guy was leaning on a tree catching his breath.
"I'll get you you little rascal", he yelled at me from a distance.
"You can speak?" I asked.
"Yes, I can speak you imbecile, why shouldn't I? Am I not good enough for you to speak?" I sensed a little sas in his tone.
"No, it's not that. Why are you chasing me?"
"Because I'm hungry dummy, why else would I? To inform you about your car insurance?"
"Ok but why me?" I question.
"Who cares! Just wait until I catch my breath. Geez can you guys run. It's really annoying when you do that you know," he began to get back up, "alright Lance Armstrong, here I come," he took two steps before he stumbled back over again, clearly not having caught his breath back.
"That's cycling idiot, not running," I corrected.
"Ok, no need for the harsh words," he said
"You were just about to eat me, I think I'm allowed to be upset with you."
"Fair enough," he surrendered, "How are you so fast?"
"How are you so out of shape?"
"Most of you are overweight and can barely make it out the door alright. I didn't even know your kind could run like that."
"Well, that makes two of us."
"Haha, real funny. Now will you help me up? I promise I won't eat you. I bet you taste gamey. I don't much like that."
"Why don't I buy you a steak dinner instead and in return you can tell me all about you?" I say as I extend out my arm to help him up.
"Why that sounds lovely." | 159 | "You can run, but you cannot hideeeee." the monster called out. But the monster failed to consider that you are a marathon runner and so you just keep on running. | 861 |
Some days I wake to the warm reaches of the light cast out by that distant star, and am immediately struck by a familiar thought. Well - a feeling, really. To put it to words I suppose I wonder if other people feel loneliness the same way I do. That little pit inside of you that rolls around throughout your stomach like a marble. As it clatters through me, it touches my heart. Sometimes my mind. At each turbulent crash it bears forward a strange melancholy, the pondering of my existence. If I could ever be loved, or find love? Or if it even matters.
​
I've been here for some hundred years, give or take. I stopped counting back when the roads were noisier. Cars louder, the smell of gas and oil runoff polluting my nose. 'Here' being somewhat relative, of course. I move apartments, houses, even campsites every couple changings of the seasons.
​
I've been sloppy. Amongst humans, they have a term: 'Serial killer.' I've listened to documentaries and strange radio cast about these defective creatures. An anomaly noted in them as that most of them are not caught through the perseverance and clever workings of their pursuers. Rather, they *want* to be found. To be seen. Noticed as they truly exist.
​
Maybe that's why I did it? Left small clues. The trimmings of my too long nails, yellow and hard as iron cast out across my floor. After all - no one goes in here but me, right? Perhaps that's why I molted freely in my homestead this time, rather than venture out into the secluded reaches of the Viamese forest just off the highway. Let the smell waft through the air vents as my most outer layer peeled away and sloughed off me, releasing the smell of solvent.
​
I was still surprised when she noticed, of course. Maybe my mind had tricked itself up to that point that it still didn't want to be found. You wouldn't think an old woman like her would be so keyed into her surroundings. Then again what else have old women to do?
​
Now, her eyes follow me through the halls. I feel them. Their ice blue iris's and tired whites streaked with blood vessels which still clung onto their decaying frame. I can sense her presence through the thin living room wall, always listening. Smelling. The clockwork thumping of her heart as she lay in wait.
​
And.. it feels.. good.
​
Good to be thought of. Skepticism, fear, annoyance, or what have you. All negative emotions by their usual connotation. Yet when you've had none for so long, does it matter? Does not even the soured and ichor ridden coolness of sewer water do something to quench a throat that has not tasted water in days?
​
So I drink, and I drink deeply.
​
I leave more hints. Let my facial features sag and grow sallow in our small passings. Elicit her fear, and consume it like the last crumbs of a death row inmates final meal. Relish it.
​
Of course this will end. I know that much. Not due to her decaying mind sparking its dying neurons to corner me, no. It will end from my apathy. It will end when this feeling grows too large to be contained by my ageless frame. It will end when I can no longer fool even myself.
​
It will end when I am seen. When I am free. When the consequence is finally a timid thing in the face of continuing this life... this *existence.* | 20 | You're a cryptid that keeps getting mistaken for a regular human, only your nosy neighbour knows the truth. Nobody believes her. | 82 |
I took a deep breath and stretched out my limbs. Finally, that trip took ages.
I was on the final leg to descend dirt side and start adjusting my environmental suit and checking the seed core. I couldn't remember how many cycles it had been since I last entered a gravity wall. Any mistake could be deadly; the closest medic pods circled the asteroid belt aboard the transit station.
Usually, I stayed away from gravity walls. Still, my best friend Jacob invited me to join a human ritual for his deceased progenitors. Many of his family members sharing heritable lineages were gathering from remote systems. Apparently, his clan claimed an ancestral planet where they still followed primitive rituals.
I had served on the warp ship XP880 with Jacob. After several cycles aboard the warp ship, we exchanged the rites of companionship and continuously shared assignments. It was a high honor to participate in the human ritual for the deceased.
As humans say: "touchdown." I finally leave the shuttle and head toward the local transporters.
I transfer to a habitat near the ritual and wait for Jacob. In the meantime, thousands of his clan mates arrive, accompanied by boxes made of deceased plant matter. These must be the caskets that humans use to transport their dead progenitors.
Finally, Jacob tells me he is planet-side and will meet me at ritual site PAPA-LIMA-99963.
"Hello Jacob. It is an honor to attend your clan's ritual for the dead"
"Thanks buddy, for making it out here on short notice. I couldn't miss this one; the next ritual won't take place for another 500 cycles. I don't have the time to wait."
A chime sounds out, and everyone nearby receives a message. "PAPA-LIMA-99963 is cleared to begin. Please complete the rites within the next 40 turns." As far as my eyes can see, thousands of small gatherings start opening their respective caskets.
Jacob opens his grandfather's box and inspects the body. He splashes his grandfather with H2O and sprinkles a small amount of crushed silica and organic matter from his species' homeworld. Jacob then steps back and exclaims, "From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust."
I move forward and place my seed core on his grandfather's chest. It activates and decomposes the flesh to fuel its growth into a plant organism. Once it matures in a few cycles, it will be chopped down and turned into another human casket.
Jacob and his fellow clan members are silent as we leave the fields of immature plants sprouting from thousands of fresh graves.
"Thanks buddy. Let's go grab some beers." | 10 | Your human best friend who is grieving invited you to go to a funeral of his or her grandparent. It is your first time going to an Earthling's funeral so you do not know what to expect. | 32 |
I blinked in surprise at the towering insectoid mass before me- a vaguely humanoid amalgamation of smaller insects. A "Morea" if I recalled right- those tiny insects working together like our cells to build a body- millions of those then making up an even larger mass that I assumed was now the reason Arty was beeping at me for blocking his solar panels.
Party, was, of course- an artificial intelligence, created by my father slightly before I was born. The moment I'd been able to speak I started to call him "Arty-fish-all" , to the chagrin of the team working on him and the delight of the AI himself, who refused any other classification than his new "real human name". It's been years since then, and more than a few wars and political turnovers that had me and him running this fringe planet manufacturing plant for just about anything big terra asked for, since Arty can handle just about anything.
Anything but romance, apparently.
The Morea hive mind had already made contact with Terra-Firma years ago, and upon hearing about my older brother and his similar enough manner of existence, one of drones upon drones all working under one mind, well. I'd suddenly become his distraction on account of the fact im the only one between us who's ever actually spoken to a woman before.
"He's, uh. Out for repair."
"Hissss entire fleetssss?"
I could hear him rapidly disassembling his drones into parts behind me in the warehouse. "....Yeah. Coronal flare, damn near fried his core." I shook my head and did my best to feign upset-edness as I heard a rocket blast off through the roof, showering us both in dusty rubble.
"Rrrrriight. Ssssuppose I'll jusssst come back tomorrow."
I waved the bug-mass off, kicking the AI core under the counter as the main Morea mass took off after the decoy rocket.
"We gotta move, man. That's the third hive mind this year-" | 36 | A hive mind falls in love with an artificial intelligence, the AI doesn't understand why the HM is interested in it but the HM is head over heels for the only other being in existence that's able to control millions of (robotic) bodies at the same time | 249 |
We messed up.
When the alien first appeared, we panicked Planetary defense systems (read nuclear missiles we were pointing at each other) were pointed at the danger in the sky. It radioed that it only wanted to help and that it could answer any question we asked, and could do so once a day for the next thirty days. Of course, we were skeptical, but when it radioed the location of every nuclear weapon on Earth (side note: since when does Monaco have three nuclear bombs?) and not on Earth (thanks Elon), we pivoted our efforts to gather the greatest minds of all areas of science and a couple of religions (decide that once and for all) to ask the important questions.
While they were debating, some idiot decided to jump the line. Armed with only a radio and a sense of stupidity greater than the ignorance to which they condemned humanity, they managed to send a question in Morse code to the alien, who remained in its ship. Of course, the alien understood Morse code, and it answered. The question that burned what could have been the greatest leap forward in human understanding was a question that has plagued humanity for thousands of years. No, it was not about a god. It was not about quantum mechanics, nor was it about general relativity. We do not know how to cure cancer. Unlimited energy, if it can be achieved, is still firmly beyond our grasp. No, the alien was asked one simple question: 'What is the value of pi?'
​
That was twenty-eight days ago.
​
The alien is still speaking. Twenty-eight days of an endless stream of digits. When the governments realized what happened, they were irate. Knowing that for the day, nothing could be done, they continued to devise questions while faithfully recording the transmission. On the second day, they tried to reach the alien. The only response was the next digit of pi. A one. Then a five. And a three. The first five days were already ones we knew. The speed was so fast that only computers could understand it, but it never ceased. Its self-imposed time limit is almost up. What happens then will be the second question to which we get an answer. It said thirty days. Will it stop, having not answered the question? Or will it continue, and break its promise? Or does pi have an end? The alien will not tell us; only time can.
​
Who knows how far it traveled? Who knows how far it will travel? We do not know. We only know that it decided to stop on its journey and give us a chance at something beautiful. And we blew it. The thing that really bugs me is that the alien knew that the question asked was not agreed upon by humanity. Yet it decided to answer anyway.
Perhaps we could have asked why. | 16 | An alien comes to Earth and claims omniscience. He says he can answer any question for the next 30 days but only at a rate of one question per day. Planet's governments put together a council to ask the most pertinent questions. | 28 |
She steps out of a pillar of flames, and her nostrils flare at the smells of blood, smoke, and viscera. A battlefield! Inhaling the sweet scent of mortal suffering, she casts her gaze about. Her summoner lies at her cloven hooves, pale and trembling, clutching his guts with one hand and pressing the other's index finger to a summoning circle in the dirt.
She clicks her tongue. He clearly isn't long for this world, which means her enjoyment will be brief.
"What is your desire, mortal?" she asks, turning up her nose.
He looks up and gives her a watery smile. "Someone to be with me until I'm gone."
"To be with you?" She hums thoughtfully. "Shall I seek the enemy who maimed you and bring them here so you can watch them bleed out?" The idea perks her up. Maybe this mortal can entertain her after all.
The man shakes his head frantically. "That's not what I meant! Just stay with me." He slumps back on the muddy ground, his strength fading. "Please... It won't be long, I can feel it."
What a spiritless fool! She wants to scream in contempt, but instead, she irritably bats away an incoming arrow with her wing and sinks to her knees beside him. "If that's what you want." A short stint in this plane is better than nothing, she supposes.
He smiles faintly and reaches for her hand. She squirms in discomfort and turns aside so she wouldn't have to see that doltish expression. Her gaze lands on the rudimentary summoning circle in the mud. No bindings, no safeguards... Of course, the idiot didn't have the time.
The corners of her lips quirk up as a powerful realization rushes through her. His wish is the only limitation of the contract. *To stay with him until he's gone*.
Freeing her hand from his, she presses it to his bleeding stomach and unleashes her power. Unholy flames burst from her fingers, knitting flesh, restoring organs. The man doubles over and screams in pain, then slumps back. He pants for air, his face slowly regaining color.
"You... healed me?" He sits up and prods his stomach in disbelief. "But that's impossible! The First Interdiction—demons can't extend your lifespan—"
"Not as a bargaining chip, no," she says triumphantly. "Had you asked me to save you, I would've laughed in your face and watched life fade from your eyes. But since you didn't... well, let's just say I decided to help you of my own free will."
"But *why*?" he asks. "Aren't you creatures of utter selfishness?"
"Oh, how adorably clueless." She stands, yanks him to his feet, and looks him over critically. Not too hard on the eyes, although in bad need of a bath. "You wished me to stay with you until the end. As long as you're alive, I get to enjoy myself in your plane without any limits to my powers."
His face pales again. "Oh, no."
"Oh, *yes*." Her lips part in a fanged smile that makes him shiver. "You're going to live a very, very long life at my side. Now tell me, who is waging this war and what's your place in it? It's been so long since I wet my claws with mortal blood." | 943 | The battle was hard won, dead laying everywhere. You see a young solder write something in the dirt using the blood from his own bowels. A demon appears next to him and says "What do you wish!", the young man simply says "Someone to be with me until I'm gone". | 1,217 |
I heard about the surface from daddy a lot. I guess I was curious. I had only been in the lower levels of daddy, he said it was to keep me safe. Daddy talked about mommy sometimes, but not a lot. He doesn’t like questions about her. Something bad happened I think. I would ask questions about the surface instead, it made daddy happier.
The first time I met a surface dweller I was killing daddy’s “boss” again. I knew what a boss was, sorta. But it didn’t make sense, cause daddy is the boss of the “boss”. I try not to think about it, and fail. When I asked daddy he laughed and told me to keep thinking, even if it makes my head hurt. I stab Bossy in the eye and wince at the whimper of pain.
Daddy makes sure bossy doesn’t move but even after a lot of times, I don’t like hurting Bossy. He’s so nice. Then the people came. “Brian, there are adventurers coming.” Daddy said to me, well… not daddy but one of daddy’s helpers. A bug-man guy that speaks, normally the voice is scratchy but when daddy talks it isn’t. Bug-man guy continues, “Daddy says you’ve grown a lot, and he wants you to meet surface dwellers,” he says in his scratchy voice. I frown, stabbing Bossy again.
Bossy shudders and dies, and I see the words, daddy calls them Not-i-fic-ations. Level up: lv 56 Shadow Lord. I smile, in 4 more levels I should be getting a new perk! I like perks, I can run on walls and stuff cause of perks. “Young master, they come.” I look at the entrance, “ok.” Daddy warned me of this, if an adventurer comes while I’m training then I need to tell them sorry cause I killed the boss, and give them the “loot”. this time it’s a shiny sword, which is great cause I like knives better.
Then the surface dwellers enter the chamber. I didn’t really recognize them, or what they were. One was a human but with really dark skin, like bug-man guy, but different. The others were weird, one with a big shield and sword seemed to be made of rock, while the girl with the bow was super thin and had really long ears. There were 2 more but I had to talk now.
I hop down and look at the adventurers. “The fuck?” The stone guy says in a deep voice. I smile and wave a bit nervous about talking to adventurers for the first time. “Hi, I’m Brian. I killed the boss, but I can give you the sword!” I held out the sword. No one moved to pick it up though. I shrug and tossed it to them, “here, bye now.”
I turn and make my way to daddy’s room. I like daddy’s room, my bed is there and daddy is there and I am safe there. “Wait, hold on kid. What do you mean you killed the boss!” The long eared girl said, she looked angry. “You can’t just say that and walk away!” I look at her, is she dumb? “Yes I can.” I answer and walk into Daddy’s chamber. I said what daddy needed me to so know I want to be with daddy. Those guys looked a bit scary.
I walked down the short hall, only for bug-man guy to stop me, daddy talks now. His voice makes me smile. “Thank ‘s kid, you real good, but I need you to go back.” I blink, and frown, “why?” I ask, “to make them go away,” daddy said, “why?” “Cause they might kill me if you don’t.” “Why” “say why again and I’ll feed you to bossy.” I wince, bossy never hurt me but it really stinks in his mouth. I hate time outs.
”ok,” I said, my voice low. “Don’t be like that, you’ll do great, here they come.” Bug-man guy disappeared into the wall, and I heard the adventurers voices calling, “hey kid, come back.” The stone guy said. ”It’s dangerous in here!” “He killed a level 35 carrion centiking beast, I doubt anything in this place is much of a threat.” A voice i didn’t know said, maybe the black guy?
I sigh, and walk back, putting on my serious face. I stop when I see them. They stop when they see me. “Please go away.” I said firmly. The black guy stepped forward, “ok, we will. But we would like to ask you some questions, please.” He asked, I frown. “3 questions then go away.” I said, the black guy frowned, “10 questions.” I shook my head, “3” the black looked at his friends, the stone guy shrugged, the girl looked annoyed.
the black guy looked at me again, “ok, first question, How did you get down here?” I tilt my head, why ask me that? “Born here,” I answer, I don’t like that question. The black guy nodded. “Ok,” he looked at his friends again. The girl walked up, “how did you kill the boss! That thing was crazy strong.” I smile, that’s a good question. I stick out my chest “I stabbed bossy until he died!” Then frowned, “I try to kill him quick so that we can play again.“ I shrug. “I don’t get it but daddy says I need to kill bossy once a week before we can play.”
the stone man places a hand on the girl’s shoulder, and pulls her back. “Who’s daddy?” I tilt my head, confused. “Daddy is daddy.” I answer, “could you explain?” I frown, that was 4. I can count. But it is just the same question again. I step to the wall and pat the stone, “daddy.” I reply, “daddy is daddy. That’s who he is.” Why are their mouths open? | 23 | A young child is raised by a dungeon causing them to be ridiculously strong. | 41 |
*Man this sucks! Look how much fun everybody else is having. Four spidermen pointing at each other and laughing. Batman is slapping Robin yelling about his dead parents. Grumpy cat is running away from long cat while ceiling cat just watches from above.*
*They had to have karaoke didn't they? A Tay Zonday and Rebecca Black duet of "Never Gonna Give You Up" brings tears to my eyes. I can't stop crying. Not even Nyancat zipping around the party cheers me up.*
*Scumbag Steve is laughing at the Star Wars kid, he's a jackass. At least Techno Viking looks like he's having fun, he's digging the vibe. I tried talking to the blonde woman but she was too busy yelling at the cat across the table. The girl in pigtails kept rambling about gersberms. My eyes hurt from crying so much.*
*I need some fresh air. The only place to sit outside was next to Keanu, he looked sad too. I didn't say anything to him. He let me have a bite of his sandwich, it wasn't good. This was the wrong year to attend the reddit old meme costume party. Feels bad man.* | 20 | On 10/31/2022 6:00pm everyone on earth is suddenly transformed into the costume they're wearing. Kids dressed as vampires flying around as bats, witches casting spells, and werewolves howling at the moon. | 52 |
*I exit the bar, after another night of endless free drinks, in an attempt to cure my crippling loneliness. I stumble towards the nearest hotel and push the doors open.*
“Move.” I demand to everyone in front of me.
*one by one they all step out of the way*
*When I get to the front desk, I demand the master suit free of charge. As per usual, I am given what I want.*
*I wander to the elevator and make my way up to the room. When I get to the room, I unlock it with the key and go slump on the bed.*
*For as long as I can remember, everyone has done everything I said. At first it was all you could imagine. I demanded power and riches from people, but then I realized those were useless since I already got whatever I wanted. Then I did everything I ever wanted through my demands. Which surprisingly in a world of infinite activities, got boring as well. After a few decades, I lost my vanity and started ending the world's problems such as world hunger and homelessness. By forcing billions to be selfless.*
*The world started to advance at unprecedented rates, and inequality was abolished. However, I am alone in the knowledge of what I can do and the world I have created. I have everything I’ve always wanted and done everything I could want. Now I just wander the streets aimlessly and alone drinking the boredom away. I slowly close my eyes, and drift to sleep.*
*I wake up a little while later and puke my guts out on the bathroom floor. Passing out on the toilet. When I awake next, I look at my watch and it is only 3:30 A.M., I decide to get up and head out for some coffee to cure my hangover.*
*I stumble down the street and arrive at a local 24-hour bar. I walk inside and order a coffee, taking a seat at a corner table.*
*A few minutes later, a woman I’ve never seen before comes in.*
“Hey, can I get a black coffee” she says to the bar tender.
*After receiving her coffee she walks up to my table*
“hey this is my favorite spot” *she says softly, pointing at the window seat across from mine.*
*before I can even answer she says again* “Mind if I sit there?”
*I shot back an annoyed look* “look I’m not in the mood, go away, and pick a new favorite spot.”
*She smiles and chuckles, before sliding into the seat across from me* “No, thanks.”
*My eyes go wide, and I nearly choke on my coffee… what?? What did she just say? No?! My ears rang from confusion, no one had ever said those words to me before.*
*I start to speak when immediately she interrupts me.*
Part 1 ✌🏻😜
[The Voice That Blinds Him [Parts 1+2]](https://www.reddit.com/r/Fuji_Jufi_Writes/comments/yjq6po/the_voice_that_blinded_him_part_12/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
Thanks for the support Everyone! I’ve made a subreddit if you’d like to keep following along! | 78 | You’ve always had a forceful personality. Whenever you direct someone to do something, they always follow your instructions, no matter how outlandish. You’ve gotten used to everyone doing what you tell them to, which is why you’re surprised when someone finally says “no.” | 209 |
"As of today, Earth is considered a Galactic Threat Level 1."
"Level 1? That doesn't sound too bad."
"It's pretty fucking bad, actually."
I was thrown into a van in the middle of the night and brought before the World Congress to receive this information. I'm not sure why a 21-year-old engineering student needs to be made aware of such things, but here I am being stared down by two Agent Smith wannabes and a very angry looking middle-aged woman -- President Preston.
"Ok, well that's not good," I said. The President of Earth looks at me like I'm some sort of idiot.
"What, are you some sort of idiot?" she said. "That's exactly what I just said. Yes, again, it's pretty fucking bad."
"Okay, what does that have to do with me though?" I ask.
"A whole hell of a lot given it's entirely your fault," she said. "The entire galactic economy runs through planet Vorgon. They are sitting on 87% of the galaxy's supply of antimatter-fusion generators, manufacture 71% of all faster-than-light ships, have enough firepower to vaporize 25% of the known universe, and you just pointed a gun directly at their heads."
"What? Me? How am I involved in any of this? I didn't do anything!" I said.
"Howard, bring in the device," she said.
One of the Agent Smiths left the room for a moment and came back with a small box with an LED screen and an antenna sticking out of the top. There was a picture of a bug in disco attire on the back.
"What are you doing with my Ant Dancer?" I said.
"Ant Dancer?" asked President Preston.
"Yeah," I said. "You find an ant hill, choose a dance, press the button and they'll start dancing. If their bodies are capable of moving the way they need to of course. It's really entertaining. Here, let me show you how to u--"
"Don't touch it!" she yelled. Agent Smith smacked my hand down, causing it to slam on the table. A vein on the side of President Preston's head looked like it was about to burst open. "Every time you turn that thing on, thousands of Vorgons commit suicide in unspeakable ways. Some skin themselves alive. Some light themselves on fire. Some disembowel themselves with their bare hands. And we traced every single incidence of this back to frequencies emitted by that thing we found in your bedroom."
I didn't say anything. The silence grew heavy in the air.
"I didn't know," I said. "Please just destroy it right now."
President Preston's demeanor softened for a second, but then the vein began to protrude from her temple once again. "It's too late for that," she said. "We weren't the only ones who traced it. Vorgon knows what you did, and has taken it as an act of war. The rest of the Confederation of Planets fears what the device could do to other species if modified. Earth now has to stand against every major power in the galaxy. May God have mercy on us all. You report to the Secretary of Defense at 0500 tomorrow morning. We're gonna need a lot more Ant Dancers."
[Wow, this might be the dumbest thing I've ever written lol, but I've already typed it out so now I will subject you all to it. Sorry!]
Edit: I really appreciate the kind words everyone 🥲. Maybe I'll try another prompt at some point. | 777 | It was a weapon so powerful that not even the most barbaric warmongering civilisation could stomach it. Just by building one, we struck terror in the hearts of many species. We weren't even planning on using it... | 894 |
At the Justice League Watchtower’s meeting room, the air in the room had urgency. No one knew how to handle Arkham’s latest patient who was a little too knowledgeable about the identities of the world’s greatest meta humans. This is the first time a criminal was allowed inside the Watchtower’s meeting room, but not without supervision, and what better supervisor than the man of steel himself? Wonder Woman couldn’t take it, as it’s been a moment since John let the squad know what’s going on. He was reading the mind of the prisoner, trying to discover on how the lunatic knew their names.
“We need to take him to the Phantom Zone.” Wonder Woman said. This wasn’t the first time it was said, but the Flash was quick to defend.
“I still don’t think it’s right.”
“It’s still odd that he has our names.” Supes said.
“We can’t let him out of here.” Wonder Woman said.
“Plenty of people know our identities,” Batman jumped in, “why would we lock someone in for knowing it.”
“Because it’s people that we trust that know.”
“I for one won’t care if mine come out. Trust me, plenty of our enemies know our identities. Even the Joker knows mine.”
“You don’t understand, Bats.” The Flash said, “I have a family. I need to keep my identity safe. Otherwise people will get hurt.”
“I have Lois, Bruce. We saw what happened in the other world when Lois died. I can’t allow that to happen.”
“Where’s Green Lantern in all of this?”
“He’s out.”
“I propose that we put this to a vote.”
The League votes, everyone except Bruce Wayne in favor.
“Looks like we’ve come to an agreement. Sorry Bruce.” The Flash said. As if the Martian Manhunter heard the vote, he joins in.
“Ah. Welcome back Jo-”
“Oh. No. I’m not John. This is the lunatic that you just voted to go into the Phantom Zone.” He fades through the Watchtower, leaving his old body lifeless.
“I’m on him.” Superman said before dashing and leaping out of the bay of the watchtower. Everyone looks at Batman for what to do.
“Glad that I made those contingency plans now?” | 32 | There's a raving lunatic who somehow knows everyone's secret identities, but not the heroes they're attached to. He thinks Bruce Wayne is Superman, Barry Allen is Green Lantern etc The Justice League aren't quite sure how to deal with him. | 292 |
Detective Pellon stepped carefully over the tiny grates that had been set up to catch stragglers trying to escape.
He looked around the crime scene with disgust.
Truly, Paranormal Protection was not a job for those faint of heart.
Red and blue bathed everything in alternating light, officers were walking around collecting evidence and the victims were very being rounded up for treatment.
A bunch of small cages were aligned at the far wall, several specialists keeping watch.
Pellon stepped closer and asked the officer on watch: "That all of them?"
The man shook his head "There's still more in a holding pen, we're getting them out one by one"
Pellon nodded, not bothering to hide the disgust on his face.
One of the nearby cages rattled and something shrieked.
A specialist rushed over but Pellon waved the woman away. "I got this one"
Carefully Pellon opened the cage and, with gloved hands, reached inside.
Immediately a tiny figure latched unto his hands, even tinier fangs trying to bite through his glove without much success.
"I am the night!"
"Ssh, of course you are" The Detective cooed with a smile.
He carefully brought the small figure up, keeping a firm grip but being careful not to squish it.
It was a wild thing, furry and with small horns, almost resembling a werewolf in some sense, with a fuzzy snout and bipedal walk.
"Aren't *you* a gorgeous warrior of ruin?"
The tiny demon stopped wrestling his thumb for a moment to stem his hands on his hips and produly proclaim "I am!"
Pelllon fought the urge to squee.
He began to stroke the Tony demon's back, making shushing noises all the time.
The small creature fought him at first, but the constant petting and the warmth from the human hands made him quickly drowsy.
"I am...the..." *yawn* "...nighhhtfff..."
And then he began to *snore*! A tiny wuffing noise that was just too cute for words.
The detective brought the sleeping demon to his shoulder were he curled towards his neck, seeking warmth.
He sighed. Who ever could harm these adorable puffs of malice and attitude?
His answer came a moment later as officers let out a strong of cuffed humans towards the prison transports.
Pellon glared at them. A PokeDem fighting ring. Disgusting.
Humanity had confronted it's demons...and succumbed to the overwhelming urge to hand out scritches and cooing.
But some people were just determined to be assholes.
Well, at least these demons would be safe now. Maybe he would even adopt this one himself.
He had always wanted a little, sassy shoulder partner after all. | 36 | What most people don’t realise about demons is that they’re actually really small—around six inches or so on average. They’d be absolutely terrifying if you didn’t have to worry about accidentally stepping on them each time they’re summoned. | 136 |
"I figured I'd find you here, buddy," Gordy wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "You doing OK?"
"Not really..." I seethed, my knuckles whitening around the curve of my whiskey glass. "Been a bit of a day. Ya know?"
"Oh I know," Gordy chuckled as he sat in the stool next me. "All the cameras, the reporters, and my god those questions. I think I finally see what you were talking about with that. It's annoying as shit."
"I..." my throat seemed to close.
"But hey," he shrugged. "Any publicity is good publicity right? That's what Dr. Genocide says, anyway."
"Fucking!" the glass shattered in my hand. Josh, the bartender, who'd been keeping his gaze away from us, exited from behind the bar. He ushered the last two patrons from their tables and motioned them to the back door as he followed behind.
Gordy grinned in way I'd never seen as he watched, he seemed to revel in the fear.
"Look man," he turned back to me as the back door slammed shut. "I know you're not happy with some of the decisions I've made bu-"
"You literally destroyed Taiwan!" I shrieked. "It's just fucking gone! They already updated Google Earth! It's just fucking ocean now!"
"I know, buddy, I know." He attempted to console me. "But I was just doing what I had to...no, what I needed to do. It's my time now. I've been your Robin for too long. It's time for me to spread my wings."
"How is killing 24 million people spreading your fucking wings?!"
"I was showing my power," he looked confused. "Like you always taught me. Ya know, 'Make sure you confirm the kill. We got the license. Use it on these sick fucks.'"
"I said that once!" I was incredulous. "When we were taking down a child trafficking ring!"
"Yeah, and Taiwan was full of them." he looked as though he pitied me. "Dr. Genocide gave me all the info I needed. So I went in. Again, like you taught me!"
"Like I-"
"Look, Jerome," Gordy frowned. "I know you disagree, and I know you blame yourself, but I ju-"
"Blame myself?!" I shot from my chair. The fingers of my left hand gripped his throat, almost without my consent. "You presumptuous, murdering fuck! I don't blame myself!"
"Then..." Gordy gurgled, his face tinged with blue. "Why...why were you drinking so much."
"Because I thought it wouldn't be easy to kill you."
Gordy put up an arm in defense. But my fist passed through his forearm with ease. Next there was the impact to his skull. There was a bit of resistance, but just as quick I felt nothing but air around my knuckles. I smiled as Gordy's head crashed through the front window. | 27 | The Chosen One is sitting in a bar drunk and moody because their best friend went over to the dark side. While wallowing in their own self-pity, said best friend sits down next to them to talk. He explains to the Chosen One they shouldn't blame themselves for his choices. | 70 |
Monster's favorite past time is scaring children. Not all of them do it of course, but many do. Every monster has their kid. Your kid is little Melvin. You haven't known him long. Its been ten days. You have only seen/heard him twice. His parents have been yelling a lot. Melvin came in with a black eye yesterday. "I wonder what is happening down there." You grumble to yourself. Melvin has been asleep for about an hour. You thought about scaring him but wanted to learn more about him. As you grumble you hear him stir. "H-Hello" He calls out to you. You simply stop moving and slow your breathing. "TOO SOON!" You think loudly to yourself. Maybe he will just nod back off. You check on him and he screams and runs out. "Uh oh" you squeak out. "Uh hey, I am your monster..." You trail off but he is gone. "I should hide again, who knows what might happen." You have heard horror stories of monsters getting attacked. Maybe we get back under the bed. You crawl under and dig deep, keeping an eye out on the door, but making sure to be hidden. You hear more yelling and crying now, then a loud sound you can't quite make out. Then deep brutal crying that is getting louder as Melvin storms back up the stairs and into his room. He jumps into the bed and covers up. As you see him come in you see he is holding his eye again. "What is going on here." You think to yourself. "I will just wait and keep watching." You whisper, almost wishing Melvin heard this time.
Its been weeks. Melvin's black eye has come and gone and come again and gone. No idea what is happening, just yelling and crying. Finally one night Melvin leaves the room and you hear him scream a very painful scream you haven't heard before. Maybe he fell down the stairs? He comes back with a bloody nose, tears in his eyes, and both eyes are bloodshot. Possibly another black eye, or two. Then he looks directly at you as he walks in, closing the door and turning the light off. No way he sees me. Just as your thoughts resonate in your head he says, "Monster, I know your there. Scoot over please. I need to hide." His little voice is cracking the entire time. He is struggling to speak even. You push some things to the side and invite him in with your clawed hand. He doesn't hesitate crawls under and gets beside you. "Its more roomy under here than I thought. Your a big one and fit just fine." He says to you, his tears still rolling but not actively producing more tears. "Heh, us monsters are pretty good at hiding. Well, most of us...here you are looking me straight in the eyes." You say to him as you hand him a clean sock to soak up the blood on his face. He grimaces but sees it is at least clean and puts it to his face. "Well, you don't seem like a bad monster." His curiosity seems to have kicked in. "Well, some of us are bad. But not me, heck I don't even know why us monsters hide under beds anymore. Why can't I just hide in the closet? Or the attic? But here we are under the bed." you tell him quizzically. He responds meekly. "Well, do you mind if I lay down here tonight? You can have the bed if you want." You give a slight laugh. "I don't mind at all, in fact, I will sleep down here too so you are not alone." He smiles and snuggles a bit. It takes less than a few minutes and you hear him snore.
A few more weeks go by and you see Melvin a lot more lately. He goes to school every day you found out but each night you two talk. You keep asking about the yelling and stuff but he just responds with "It's not important." Certainly that is not all of it though. A few nights pass and you hear that sound again. Screaming in pain and followed by crying. Melvin again. Then you hear it again with some more yelling, but this time a woman. First to rush by the door is Melvin's mom. Almost instantly after is Melvin. He nearly leaps under the bed with you. His breath is fast and voice panicked "Help!" Just before his feet clear the edge though you see a man you haven't seen before. His dad maybe? He rushes towards the bed and before you can respond he grabs Melvin. Dragging him out. "You and your smart mouth kid.." SMACK!! The sound of the mans fist hitting Melvin in the face. Then the woman rushes in and tries to save the boy. SMACK!! SMACK!! The man hitting the woman over and over. Melvin is on the floor not moving. His mom pleading for the man to stop. Each hit dealing more and more damage.
Anger is an emotion you never though of in your life. It is not taught, it is simply learned. You can't even remember the last time you were even mad. But right now, your furious. The blood in your body is boiling. Your fur is standing on end. Suddenly just as you were thinking about what to do you find yourself already emerged from the bed. You hear the sound of someone walking up the stairs and then hear the voice "Let me have a run at that..." His voice trails off and his face turns to fear. He was clearly laughing before, but now he is not. Just as the scream leaves his mouth your lunge. You are a big fella of a monster. Two hundred and eighty pounds of fur and muscle. You pounce on the man coming in from the hall. Dropping both his bottle and cigarette on the floor in an attempt to run. It is no use. You already have him. Your claws rip into him immediately. The sound of his own blood filling his throat and lungs. He falls to the floor writhing, gasping, drowning. Then just as fast as you pounced on him, you turn to the man who hit Melvin. He has barely noticed, but seeing the dark brown fur out of the corner of his eye he turns. "What the ...." again, his words do not leave fast enough. By the time he is able to respond, he is dead.
Melvin's mom's eye are both swollen. She can barely see. Surely she would run if she knew what you really were. She just calls out with a whimper and her voice cracking. "I don't know who you are...but please, help my boy. Help Melvin." You move forward and nudge Melvin. He moves a bit but seems to pass out again. He is alive. Hurt, but alive. Melvin has told you lots about his mom. She is a wonderful lady. Meredith is her name. "Meredith, I am Steve. I am Melvin's friend. I need you to know I wont hurt you and that you are safe with me. But also, don't be scared of me, I am a monster." Just as you say this you can see her try to focus. Slight fear in her eyes well up but she just hugs you tightly. "You saved our lives tonight, I don't care what you are. You saved Melvin. You saved me..." You pick up Melvin and take him down stairs guiding Meredith down too. Over the course of an hour or so you talk to her and help her gain back her sight from her swollen eyes.
"So, I take it those two are dead. You have a bit of their blood on you still." she points to your claws. "Yes, I suppose they are. I have no clue what to do with them though. They can't stay there, Melvin needs sleep." You say as you wipe a warm washcloth over his head, him stirring slightly. "Well, we need to do something. The police can't know about you, and certainly they dont need to be found in this state. I might have an idea, but.. We need to be out of the house." Meredith has a long deep stare out into the distance. She could see the stars she is looking so far. "I can carry Melvin outside, I need a blanket though. I don't want him getting cold." you tell her. She hands you the blanket from the couch and tells you "Go hide in the back of the car out front. Take him with you and keep him warm. If you see or smell smoke. Just stay in the car. I will be outside shortly." You see her get up and grab some things from the kitchen. Some blankets from a closet jackets too. But you do what you were instructed to do. You sneak into the back of the car and hold Melvin close. Its not too cold outside, so this should be plenty.
Over the next few minutes you see flames start to rise from Melvin's bedroom. They spread very quickly, so fast that you worry about Meredith. But as promised, she makes her exit. She comes to the car and sits in the front. "You will have to hide or something, I don't know where you will go. But this house needs to burn for a while and I don't know where to take you." She is cold, serious, but warm. "Don't worry about me, I will hide and find you guys again. Melvin is my kid too. So your stuck with me forever." She smiles at your words and gives a slight laugh. "Well then, I have to call the fire department. Make sure you clean up good just in case and hide well. We will see you when you can find us again. Just stay safe please Steve. Thank you again for saving Melvin." She gives you a warm hug and you make your exit into the night air. Running towards the forest where your people are. You will get to see Melvin again. Just have to wait a few days or weeks. None the less, its time to hide and wait. | 26 | You're the monster under children's beds. Tonight, you're shocked to see this child crawl under the bed shouting at you to make room | 69 |
"Did you know barbed wire was originally used to herd cattle?" He sips the special eggnog Mother prepared for him and leans back in the chair. The other Holi-deities have already left. He seems less relaxed, less jovial and mirthful, without their eyes trained on him.
"It makes sense."
"Then it was used in World War I to line trenches. Cheap to make, lets you look down the battlefield, hard to get out of once you are in it. Tractors have something in common with barbed wire. Can you guess what that is, son?"
"They're agricultural tools?"
"Not that just that, they're agricultural tools that were weaponized. Slap a rotating track over the wheels, add a bit of armor, and you have a tank." Saint Nicholas leans towards the fire, his cheeks rosier than usual and his eyes slightly unfocused. "Everything can be perverted. The first murder weapon was the Earth itself, after all."
"And you're worried about being weaponized, too?"
"Ho, ho, no, son. I have 'unlimited power'. I need to have the will to exercise it, though. And I do not have *that* will." I cock my head and the Old Man sighs, "If I create unlimited food, mortals will fight over who gets to hold the largest reserve of it. And then there's the environmental implications of creating that food. Where does all the plastic go? Where does the discarded food go? What about health concerns? Would the less privileged overeat and gorge themselves on unhealthy foods? I could never know."
"So you don't know the impact you'll have. All powerful, but not all-knowing."
"Precisely. So, I make the largest impact with the smallest interaction. An unexpected gift under the Christmas Tree. A surprise bonus at work, to help ends meet. A 'lost' present appearing as the parents lay out gifts on Christmas Eve. I cannot give them the world, but to a child? A new toy can *mean* the world to them."
"...Okay, but what about bad kids?"
"I'm going to need more eggnog before that conversation, Eros." | 36 | “Nicholas, you have near infinite power, you have unlimited possibilities, and you want to use it... to deliver presents?” | 102 |
Rain tapped at the window of the little office that sat on the corner of 5th and St. Michael. It was filled with curios, trinkets, books of the time before the sundering, and many many bestiaries. The half-orc took a drag on his cigar and tapped it against the side of the navy blue ashtray. Tania was coming; he could hear her high heels from the other side of the building and they were getting closer. He ran his olive hand through the fine hairs of his beard as he wondered what would land on his desk today.
"Come in," he called from behind his desk just before her knuckles reached the door.
The door opened and a half-elf woman poked her head in and smiled. "Hey, there!"
"Oh, I know *that* smile," said the agent with a shake of his head. "Whatcha got, Lee?"
She entered the room fully, carrying a file in her arms. She was dressed to the letter as always– a red sundress with little strawberries all over it, shining red heels, and a red ribbon in her auburn hair.
"I've got a fun one for you, Reggie." Her dimples materialized and it forced a smile to his face.
"Why you always gotta look so damn adorable?" asked Reg with a smile as he put out the cigar. She hadn't asked him to, but he knew that the smoke offended her delicate senses.
"Gotta watch comments like that, or I'm gonna talk to H.R." she said with a wink.
"I *am* H.R.," he shot back. "But enough about my various skills."
"Right," she said, marching forward and tossing the file on his desk. "You've got a dispute filed against... drumroll please!"
The half-orc stared at her for several seconds before realizing she wasn't asking. He sighed and lifted his big green hands to the top of his desk. It was a halfhearted drumroll, but acceptable enough to the secretary.
"A Kludde!" she announced cheerfully.
"A *what?*" he asked, sitting straight up.
"That's how you pronounce it, right?" she asked, suddenly unsure of herself. "Oh, did I mess that up?"
"Wouldn't know if you did," said Reg as he stood up and moved for the bookshelf. He ran his thick finger along the vintage green volumes until he found *J-K* on one of the bindings. He pulled it from the shelf and opened it, leafing through the pages as he repeatedly muttered the name of the monster aloud. Lee joined him at the bookshelf as he turned page after page of monstrous illustrations.
"That book is stinky," she said quietly.
"They're *all* stinky," he said as he searched for the creature. "These books are old. *Real* old. From before the sundering."
"Seriously?" she asked. "These were made by humans?"
"What else would have made these if they were written before the sundering, Lee?"
"Oh, shut up," she punched him playfully. "I just didn't know humans knew about stuff like this. The Astral plane was always so... boring."
"They would prefer the term *safe*," he responded before licking his thumb and continuing to tear through the book. "And it wasn't always like that. Monsters, demons, spirits– they all roamed the earth during the ancient period of the earth. To my understanding, something happened that sort of banished them all. The humans didn't entirely forget about them, but they sort of turned into myths and legends."
"Huh. Wonder what happened," she placed her hands on her hips. "You think humans will end up like that someday?"
"Maybe. There are less and less full-blooded humans every decade. Stands to reason they'd eventually fade out as a species, at least here in the Astral plane."
"That's kinda sad," she said softly. "Poor humans."
"Won't be for a thousand years yet, I reckon," he said as he placed the book down on the table. "For now, I gotta figure out how to make them get along with... Kloods." He sighed as he looked over the entry in the bestiary. "They're pranksters at heart. Shapeshifters usually are."
"Oooh, a shapeshifter?" she asked, her eyes wide. "I don't think you've ever handled a shapeshifter!"
"No I haven't," he grumbled. "If I looked like a Kludde, I'd want to change into something else too. You seeing this thing?" he asked as he moved over a little. "Big dog-looking thing with big claws, a beak, scales... yikes."
"Ohmigosh!" she lifted her hands to her face. "That poor creature!"
"I'm gonna need you to not do that when you see it," said Reg as he picked the book up and took it under his arm.
"Oh, no, no, no!" she shook her head. "N-O, no!"
"Gonna need you for this one, Lee."
"Why?" she whined.
"You're good with dogs," he answered with a smile as he picked up his coat from the back of his chair.
"But that thing is like... 10% dog!" she protested as she followed him to the door.
He pulled his fedora from the hat rack and placed it atop his head. "C'mon," he said with a mischievous smile. "You said yourself it was gonna be a fun one."
r/A15MinuteMythos
Read the rest of the story [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/A15MinuteMythos/comments/yj4kek/wp_the_vampires_found_a_vaccine_the_monsters_kept/) | 13 | The Vampires found a vaccine. The "monsters" kept their powers and weaknesses but retained their humanity. Werewolves,Djinn, angels, poltergeist, all want to live in (relative) peace with humans. As an agent of the Monster Inclusion Division, it's time to make them get along, Monster or not. | 49 |
Part 1
As an aspiring author, I look for inspiration in many places. Well, maybe it’s only recently that I’ve picked up writing as a hobby. Nevertheless, I’ve been researching authors recently and realized that the famous author David Elegant is buried only twenty minutes away from my house. He wrote “Day of the Killer Cows” and “The Great Green Water Bottle Mystery!” Totally awesome!
I asked my dad this morning if we could pop by the cemetery for a visit because I think it would be totally inspiring to connect with the grave of such an accomplished writer. I’m even going to bring a piece that I wrote so that I can read it to his ghost!
Dad drives me to the cemetery the next weekend and I’m pretty excited. I’ve brought my notebook and a pen so I can capture all of the ideas the cemetery brings me without having to wait until I get home. Dad asks me if I want him to walk with me, but I tell him he can wait in the car and he seems relieved. He loves to listen to audiobooks in the car.
The cemetery doesn’t look as spooky as I thought it would. In fact, it’s well kept and kind of pretty almost, with nice flower arrangements in front of almost every headstone. There are a few other people milling around, or stopped in front of specific graves.
It doesn’t take me too long to find David Elegant’s grave. It looks pretty similar to all of the other graves, except that the headstone is a bit nicer and has a large carving of a book at the top. One of the first things I notice is that there is a large rock sitting in front of the headstone with a bunch of papers under it.
Nobody else in the graveyard is paying attention to me, so I figure there isn’t any harm in taking a peek at the papers. When I start to read through them, I realize they’re a bunch of stories! Other people must have brought stories they wrote to David Elegant’s grave just like me. Almost all of the pages are typed up, so there’s no telling how many different people have left stories. But the strangest part is, on the top of some of the pages there is a grade in red ink. B-, C+, A. Sometimes a note is even included such as “this is really promising work” or “you need to work on character building,” always in the same cursive script. I cover my mouth with shock. The ghost of David Elegant helps people with their writing! Excited, I add the piece of writing that I brought with me to the pile. “I hope you like it,” I whisper. | 10 | A person drops by the grave of a long gone famous author to read the notes people leave for them and sees that some of them have been given grades. | 51 |
I didn't even know dogs could get depressed. Sure, I've seen dogs pout and whine when their master was gone for the day, but full-blown depression? Never. But there was not a doubt in my mind Frost was depressed.
The first morning after I got him, I expected to be woken up by a squirrely dog jumping on my bed giving me licks, but instead there was only the typical solitude I was accustomed to. After lying in bed for an hour or two, I'm not sure how long, I mustered the energy to rise. Frost was still asleep in the kitchen. Not even the sound of the food-bag was enough to rouse him. He simply lay there. Tired.
When he was up, he did not look much different than when he slept. He carried himself heavily, and I thought mayhaps he was sick, so after two days of his constitution not improving, I took him to the vet, who said all was fine, and it was simply who he was. I took it as a challenge.
Whenever I saw him around the house, I pet him, and talked to him in a voice with more emotion than I knew in recent years. It was like talking to my daughter, who had been gone for a year now. Black was her hair, too.
Our inaugural walk together was hard. He did not want to move. With a gentle tug, he eventually did follow me, but still in that slow, trudging fashion. We passed a little girl in the park, and she gave him a great big hug and lots of love. Even that didn't phase him.
But, day by day, little by little, things improved. I found myself getting out of bed sooner than before, eager to meet with my new pal. Outside, on our walks, the days were bright, the smells of autumn, pumpkin and coolness, were strong, and together we learned to live once more.
Frost's posture improved. No longer did he hunch down, head close to the ground, eyes more interested in the floor than ahead. Now he carried his head tall with pride. It suited him. He looked like a whole different dog, but I knew he was still my friend.
One morning (five o'clock sharp! The sun was still not up—I should never have dreamed I'd wake up at such a time willingly) we went on our walk. The ruby light peeked over the horizon and painted the entire town in a brilliant pink. When we reached the park, the ruby turned to gold, and over all the trees and the grass and the leaves and my friend and me was a radiant hue. Everything was covered in golden goodness.
Even Frost's coat, which was black, looked glittering under the early morning sun. I looked up towards the bright ball in the sky, hidden behind a tree, and I watched as a red leaf departed itself from its branch and slowly fluttered towards the ground. While it danced in the air, a gust of wind blew it towards me. I caught it.
It was half-eaten by a caterpillar, and up-close its shade was more brown than red, but holding it in my hand, I knew it was perfect. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Crisp air, found only on special mornings when the world is still and you're the only living being awake, entered my lungs. With that lifeblood there, I realized something. A smile broke across my lips.
Frost was not the only one who had changed.
I released the leaf from my hand, and before it fell to the ground, I broke off in a lively sprint across the field, my friend keeping up perfectly by my side. | 1,257 | You are severely depressed and are given a service dog to help you through it. However, due to a mixup, you are given a dog that is actually much more depressed than you. The main thing that gets you up in the morning is knowing that you need to be the service human for your dog. | 5,282 |
“Is that… a head of lettuce?”
In the blurry periphery of my vision, I see Dr Gao shake his head.
“Well, it looks like an awful lot like lettuce!” his companion exclaims. “With… googly eyes on it. Dr Gao, what the hell is going on? I thought I was supposed to care for somebody on hospice support, not… not…” Her hands ball into fists. “Not water a plant!”
Dr Gao is silent for a moment longer. The bags under his eyes stand out sharper than before, and new wrinkles line the sides of his thin mouth. He looks gaunt, wilted in the harsh hospital room light. “This isn’t just any lettuce,” he says finally. “You must remember the Star article. The bet. With… with…”
“Truss,” she breathes.
“This isn’t just a head of lettuce,” Dr Gao says grimly. “This is THE head of lettuce. Everything depends on it. We can’t let her win the bet, Fatima. It’s been ten years. She’s taken everything from us, except this. We can’t let her outlast this fucking lettuce, do you understand?”
The caretaker, Fatima, gives him a long look before reaching out a gentle hand and stroking the limp, brown leaves at my top. “I understand,” she says quietly. | 11 | You were told you only have weeks to live and placed in hospice care. Your condition worsens each day yet somehow 10 years later you are still alive and have outlived your 6th caretaker. | 64 |
Unemployment sucks.
As a male descendant of the Van Helsing family, it was only tradition to continue the same line of work as my father, and thus his father, and his father before then.
However, back then the goal was to exterminate them. The vampires. After all, they used to be 'the spawn of the devil' and 'scourges upon the earth'. But in the modern age, it became less of 'slay all vampires' and instead contain *most* vampires, kill those that we couldn't.
I mean if we *did* exterminate them, we'd all be out of a job. And besides, it was easy. Garlic and crucifixes were enough to contain and deter them, then just cut them a deal or jab the in the heart with a wooden stake. Hell, even the working risk has gone down exponentially because things like kevlar exist now, and I'd like to see how a knife could penetrate that, much less the fangs of a vampire.
And also- what? Oh, cutting them a deal? Oh yeah. People pay fortunes for the simple act of 'killing' a vampire, so why not contain them, then let loose a few when we need the money?
I mean, its not the most ethical, but that's how an economy works, right? Supply and demand and all that, an-and besides, I single-handedly converted Dracula's castle in the middle of transylvania to a vampire resort, with sow's blood, amenities and even fang cleaning services all provided! And when we needed more, we just ask a few to go, y'know, bite and infect a few poor people. We are a **monopoly** in the market of vampire hunting anyway, so why not control the demand! Ugh...
Anyway, you would *(justifiably)* understand that I couldn't just *tell* the sacred order that we weren't actually killing vampires for the 'good of humanity', but instead monopolising the market *of* vampire hunting. So I peddled the same stuff that my father did to them: "The Holy Order of The Burning Cross is dedicated to the hunting and slaying of all vampires..." and blah blah blah. You would get the gist of it.
So, and I beg you to do so, imagine my shock, when I recieved a letter with the Flaming Crucifix symbol embossed in red candle wax on the front, stating that, and I quote, *"Dear Master Helsing, we had discovered the last hiding place of the vampires, in Dracula's castle of all places. You would be very pleased to know that we were able to storm the compound and slay the last vampires on earth."*
They basically fucking forced into retirement at 35!
So, in other words, I am a 35 year old university graduate with a degree in business management and economics, with 14 years of experience in managing a business as a Chief Executive Officer, and I will be taking all job offers. | 414 | the order won, there are no more vampires left. | 956 |
Timmy has always been special. Sure, everyone thinks their child is special, but Timmy was touched by the Gods. He was born during a solar eclipse on the solstice. It was an event so rare that the elders say no child has ever been born under such circumstances. And then there was his eyes. They are bright gold and shine in the dark. He can see well no matter how little light there is. They are truly unique.
The elders and the rest of the village are a superstitious bunch. Since he was born they have been saying that he is cursed and should be cast out. Being different, even a little different, was more than enough for the elders to assume the worst.
I won’t listen to them. He is my son, my special boy. Charming and sweet, kind as can be. How could anyone that meet him think such horrible things?
—————-
“A carnival! A carnival has come to town!”, Timmy yelled excitedly. It was that time of year, right after harvest and before the first snows, when a travelling carnival would roll through town.
They had side shows, clowns, exotic animals, food wagons and vendors of all types. The whole town, and the surrounding farms would come out and partake in the carnival for three days, and then they would move on.
“Can I go watch them set up?”, he asked. His excitement contagiously bubbling over.
“Of course. Be home for supper.”, I said. I watched out of the window as he ran down the street and joined his friends. They watched as the wagons transformed from dusty eye sores into the colourful spectacle of the carnival. Children ran around as the wagons setup. Carnival people started milling about the town square and checking out our village’s stores and tavern.
Timmy came back to the house just as I was about finished cooking supper.
“When can we go?”, he asked as soon as he came in.
“After we eat, we will go.”, I said patiently. Timmy ate his supper so fast that he didn’t even have time to complain about the vegetables. Then he sat their impatiently while I ate at a normal speed. He kept glancing out the window towards the town square. Finally I pushed my plate away, “fine. Fine. Let’s go.”, and he was up and running out the door.
I caught up to him outside the main tent.
“It is a copper each to get in. Can we go? Can we go?”, he was positively vibrating. I smiled and paid the man at the tent flap the two coppers and we went into the tent. We took a seat in the first row before the big ring and waited for the show to start.
The tent filled up. Townspeople, farmers, friends family…. It was a celebration of people waiting for the show. Bright phosphorous lights lit the main circle without enough spill over to make it possible to find a seat, and little more.
A man, dressed in a long tailed suit, a top hat and tall shiny boots walked into the centre of the ring. He twirled his long handle bar moustache and raised a mega phone, “Welcome! Welcome ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls and children of all ages. Welcome to the main event!”, the man yelled. His voice carrying with practice ease. The crowd grew quite.
Clowns came out, rolling in barrels and on barrels, honking horns and splashing water. The crowd was captivated. They roared with laughter at the antics of the clowns.
The ring master pretended to try and shoo them out of the ring but it was all part of the show. The clowns were finally looking like they were getting the idea from the ring master when the lights went out. The crowd murmured. I looked down at Timmy, his eyes glowing yellow, brightly enough to light his cheeks.
“Please stay calm everyone”, the ring master bellowed, “ we are relighting the lanterns as quickly as we can!”
Then just as suddenly as they went out, the lights came back on. A lady screamed. Then several ladies screamed. There in the centre of the ring was a clown in a puddle of blood with a knife in his throat.
“Oh dear Gods!”, I said and covered Timmy’s eyes he didn’t need to see this. I brought my head close to his and whispered, “don’t look dear. You shouldn’t see this.”
“Why. I watched the strong man kill him while the lights were out.”, he whispered back.
“What?”, I said incredulously.
“That is Maurice. The clown is Maurice. He has been kissing the strongman’s wife while the strong man wasn’t looking. Then the strong man found out on the trip from the last village. And he is so mad. So he rigged the lights to go off and then snuck in here and killed him.”, Timmy said matter of factly.
“How? How do you know this?”, I was shocked that Timmy could know such things.
“Can’t you see it?”, my black look must have told him I couldn’t, “look at them.”, he said pointing to the gathering carnival folk. “Look at the writing and pictures above their heads. They all tell their stories. I saw the strongman earlier and read his story. It wasn’t…. Solid yet… he was still thinking about it. People think horrible things like that all of the time though, so it isn’t a big deal.”, Timmy was still whispering this to me, hopefully no one over heard.
“And what do you see above my head?”, I said hesitantly.
“Love. Devotion. Strength and… a hint of fear. That is new. I see your childhood, your first love, how you met Dad. How your heart broke the day he died. Your love for me. I see it all there.”, I wiped away a tear.
“How long have you been able to read people’s stories?”, I asked cautiously.
“I could always see it, it has taken me a long time to be able to read them though. Are we going to tell the sherif who killed Maurice?”, Timmy asked.
“No. Say nothing. They will not understand you, and what they don’t understand they will fear and hate. Keep it between us my boy.” | 48 | Your baby is born with golden eyes. Everyone tells you to kill it, but you refuse. Everyone avoids you and your family. It isn't until today you find out why everyone is so terrified... | 44 |
A group of Neophytes stand at attention in a dusty training hall. A grizzled Templar paces before them, searching for any flaw in their stances, any weakness in their eyes. He is long retired from active duty, but his back is ramrod straight and he wears his pockmarked armor with pride.
"Who is our Enemy?" he barks.
"The Supernatural," the Neophytes chorus. "The Otherwordly, the spawns of Heaven and Hell."
"And what do we give them?"
"Death!"
"You may think these words a meaningless ceremony, but they will save your life one day," the Templar says with certainty forged in countless battles. "The Enemy possesses unnatural powers against which conviction is the only defense. They will appeal, threaten, and plead. They will appear in guises uglier than sin or more beautiful than anything you have seen in your life. Regardless, you must never show them mercy. The slightest doubt will become a chink in your armor that will spell your end."
The Neophytes listen attentively, but they don't *understand*, not yet. The Templar casts his gaze over the ranks, meeting their eyes. Some burn with zeal, others harbor uncertainty. It is his job to eradicate the latter.
"I ask you now, do you have doubts?" the Templar says. "Look deep into your hearts and speak truthfully. You will not be punished."
The Neophytes exchange sideways glances and fidget. The silence stretches on, and it almost looks like no one will speak. Then a young man with sandy hair opens his mouth, only to close it again.
"Speak," the Templar says, almost kindly.
"I... I understand why we fight devils and the like," the man stammers. "But aren't angels a force of good?"
A murmur ripples through the ranks at his daring, but the Templar raises a fist, and everyone falls silent. The young man shrinks under his heavy gaze. An idealist. There is always one or two in every batch.
"I ask you this in turn: Who gave these tyrant preachers the right to judge and sentence us? Such an authority can only be granted by the people, and we will never bow under the yoke of outsiders! Only a human will judge other humans."
The Templar makes a swift gesture. A pair of Squires wheel in a cage covered with a runic cloth that flutters as if whatever's inside is struggling to escape. Some Neophytes swallow and inch backward.
The Templar nods, and a Squire pulls down the cloth. Inside the cage, an angel unfurls its sixteen wings and beholds the gathered with its glowing eye. Its voice echoes in their skulls.
**You have sinned**. **Kneel**. **Repent**.
The sandy-haired man sways on his feet, and he isn't the only one. The eyes of those with less-than-pure pasts glimmer with remorseful tears.
"Don't," roars the Templar. "Don't you *dare* debase yourselves before that thing."
The Neophytes straighten up, their fear of the man momentarily exceeding the fear of the divine. The Templar approaches the young man and draws his runic sword. The Neophyte trembles.
"Please," he mutters, "I'm sorry—"
"Who is our Enemy?" the Templar asks.
The walls of the hall tremble as the Neophytes' voices drown out the angel's. "The Supernatural, the Otherwordly, the spawns of Heaven and Hell!"
The Templar turns the sword around and offers the hilt to the Neophyte. "And what do we give them?" he asks quietly.
The Neophyte glances at the angel and firms his jaw. "Death," he says, and takes the sword. | 84 | Mankind is plagued by many. Mutants, Vampires, Werewolves, Swamp Trolls, Angels, Devils, Demons, Undead, Spirits, Witches, Imps, Orcs and Elves. An Order of hunters was created to combat them. You are recruited into it and must learn quickly. Arrogance and mercy will not be tolerated. | 220 |
I couldn't wait for this day to come. I was hoping uncle John would come to me, or maybe my great grandpa who fought in World War 2. Or maybe even a relative from thousands of years ago who could bestow their ancient wisdom upon me.
Instead, I got a rock.
Willie the Cross-Eyed Rock was a good friend of mine when I was a toddler. I think I still have his remains around here somewhere, but I have my doubts about his abilities as a spirit guide.
"Is this some sort of paranormal joke I don't understand?" I asked Willie.
"..." he replied.
His googly eyes seemed to stare past my physical form and into my soul. It made me feel uneasy. Exposed. Vulnerable. Is this how everyone feels when they turn 16?
"Are you going to say anything? Give me any life advice? Anything at all?" I ask, feeling progressively more insane about talking to a semi-translucent stone.
"..." continued Willie.
"Okay, never mind," I said. "I could really use some help though. I have no idea what I want to do with my life after I graduate. I have no idea how to talk to girls. I want to get into a good college, but precalc is kicking my ass. Greg and Josh are probably going to go to MIT and I'll never see them again. I was really, really hoping my guide would come and help me figure these things out, but all I get is a rock! This is so unfair!"
"..." Willie said.
I threw myself onto my bed and let out an exasperated sigh. "I guess I'll just figure it all out on my own."
"!!!" said Willie.
I felt a calm energy calling me from the other side of the room. Something was compelling me to pick Willie up. I rolled out of bed and walked towards my dresser where Willie sat on a stack of textbooks.
"!!! !!!"
I picked him up and placed him in the palm of my hand. Immediately upon picking him up, I'm filled with serenity. My eyes meet his googly eyes, and memories of being a little kid, playing in the woods, riding bikes, jumping out of swings, and playing hide-and-seek come back to me as if I just lived through them. Tears streamed down my smiling face. I continued to look into his plastic, lifeless eyes, and visions of me going to college, falling in love, getting married and having kids poured into my mind.
"Are these real?" I said, trying to prevent more tears from escaping.
"..." said Willie.
"I guess I'll never get a straight answer out of you, will I?" I said.
I didn't know if Willie the Cross-Eyed Rock could see the future, but after that I couldn't help but feel like things would work out. I put Willie down on my nightstand and laid back down in my bed.
"Thanks Willie," I said. "Goodnight."
"..." said Willie. | 34 | On your 16th birthday, everyone is granted a spirit guide from their past, be that a fallen mentor, former pet, or even something such as a bug you once squished. You wake up to find the spirit of your old pet rock, who had fallen and broken years ago, but whose pieces you've always kept. | 204 |
It was exactly like any other day in your life. You woke up, chomped some of the mushrooms growing off the walls, and then walked down the dungeon hall with a knife in hand and 4 of your brothers at your side. It's what you've done since you first popped out of one of the glowing crystals at the end of the dungeon hall. You never questioned why you did it, what lied behind the doors at either end of the hallway, or why you knew from the depth of your soul to attack anything that came out of the door at the opposite end of the hall to your crystal.
But then a man came out of the door. You had just reached the end of the hallway and were standing in the corner so he didn't notice you. Your brothers weren't as lucky. With a single swipe of his great-sword, he slayed all four of them. As his sword and head fell to rest you noticed a piece of skin on his neck appear and seizing the opportunity you swung.
SYSTEM NOTICE
\[HERO OF THE REALM ROLAN THE RESTLESS HAS BEEN SLAIN\]
\[+994,560 EXP HAS BEEN GRANTED\]
\[LESSER GOBLIN HAS REACHED LEVEL 15\]
\[LESSER GOBLIN HAS EVLOVED TO KOBOLD\]
\[KOBOLD HAS REACHED LEVEL 50\]
\[KOBOLD HAS EVOLVED TO GREMLIN\]
\[GREMLIN HAS REACHED LEVEL 70\]
\[GREMLIN HAS EVOLVED TO IFRIT\]
\[IFRIT HAS BEEN GRANTED THE NAME ZOLDAK\]
\[TITLES: HERO KILLER, REAPER OPPORTUNIST, HOPE ENDER, THE ONE WHO WAITS, THE ONE WHO HIDES, THE ONE WHO ASCENDS, CHAMPION OF GOBLINS, CHAMPION OF KOBOLDS, CHAMPION OF GREMLINS, AND CHAMPION OF IFRITS, HAVE BEEN AWARDED\]
\[GOBLIN ASSASSIN, KOBOLD ASSASSIN, GREMLIN ASSASSIN, IFRIT ASSASSIN, MONSTER REAPER, KNIFE MASTER, DUNGEON WALKER, AND VOID MAGE SKILL TREES HAVE OPENED\]
\[+481 UNUSED SKILL POINTS AVAILABLE\]
\[ALL STATS HAVE RISEN BY 200\]
\[AGILITY AND LUCK STAT HAVE RISEN BY 100\]
That and more began flashing in my face. But I could barely even make sense of my surroundings. Everything in the rooms became a million times clearer. I could see the individual marks on each brick across the room, I could smell the blood from my brothers and automatically tell them apart and how severe their cuts were. I could hear dozens of booming footsteps from the door coming towards me.
Overwhelmed I tried to cover my ears only to notice my hands, once green, were now dark grey. Running to the crystal, it now only took me two steps, I looked at my reflection. I could barely recognize the creature looking back at me. My original body had been short, fat, and green with large ears, a lumpy nose, and big yellow eyes. My new one was still short but lean and only muscle. my head was completely round with only small holes where my ears and nose once were and my eyes were now completely black with only small red dots for pupils. My hands that were once crooked with yellow nails were now small and straight. I didn't have nails but a single flex revealed a set of sharp retractable hooks.
To take my mind off my new body I ran back to the hero's corpse. His armor and sword were glowing gently but to my surprise, his pack was releasing a far brighter red light.
\[SYSTEM NOTICE. TITLE OPPORTUNIST GRANTS USER THE ABILITY TO SEE THEIR VICTIM'S MOST VALUABLE POSSESIONS\]
Deciding to trust the so called system I reached into the pack to grab the glowing items. I came out with a couple dozen bottles containing various liquids, mainly red ones that the system unformed me were potions of healing, a golden dagger, a couple rings and necklaces that I put on, and a black cloak and chainmail shirt that both shrunk down to fit me. I ran back to the crystal to admire my new look when a bright light filled the room.
Standing over the hero's body was a tall humanoid figure. She was wearing only a pure white dress but it was hardly noticeable with her other features. A pair of large white wings on her back tried to open in the hall only to return to resting after realizing it was futile. And then there was her head. It looked normal from the nose down but two golden rings spun around her head covering her eyes if she even had them. The rings were covered in eye symbols that I was almost certain blinked. And rather than falling down her back, her long hair floated up brushing the dungeon sealing.
"What demon dares to slay my champion!"
Part 1/2 | 50 | As a low-level goblin, you aren’t expected to do much damage to a party of adventurers. Yet here you are, the Hero of the Realm dead at your feet, wondering what the hell you’re going to do next. | 95 |
The dark gray color of the walls blended well with the dark gray color of the threadbare sheets covering the stark white mattress beneath. The dark gray blindfold covering Prisoner 14376 camouflaged effectively with the dark gray of the middle-aged man's jumpsuit, its only personality the rolled up and frayed left sleeve.
The thick padding that surrounded the room bore a deep black hue, aiding in the permanent silence. The "floor", such as it was, consisted of a fluid-like material, several feet deep, that caused the man to float, giving him a weightless feeling. He was caressed by a ghost and swaddled in its loving arms.
Patrick nodded at the doorman on the way to his shift. He tipped his cap with the hand not holding his coffee, and let out his little customary sigh that accompanied these twelve-hour guard shifts.
Patrick sat in his recliner with his coffee and donut in hand, ready to wait out his twelve hours.
The long vegetable prisoner lay on his back, his mighty lungs fighting to provide oxygen to a long unresponsive noggin.
Patrick asked the customary questions, the only lapse in the sensory deprivation: identification questions, then if he'd like to be released.
The cucumber did not answer. A thick glob of drool piled by his jaw, slowly mixing with the floor's fluid as the days meander on.
Having finished the questions, and thus, the work for his shift, Patrick kicked his feet up on his desk and leaned back, getting settled in good and comfy for his nap. | 22 | Mad scientists are running an experiment where prisoners are trapped and observed in a sensory deprivation room. Most prisoners ask to be released after a few hours, some stay for days, but one has stayed for years and it doesn't seem like he's going to leave anytime soon. | 94 |
First contact with alien species was a disaster. We came in peace. And so did they. Until they actually saw who we were.
As soon as the first man took of his helmet after boarding their ship all hell broke loose. Every one of our new "friends" froze in fear. And then fled to get their weapons.
Our embassadors had no guns and were massacred. Only thing that followed after that was radio silence and appearance of their armada right next to Earth.
Thankfully they didn't completely obliterate us using that armada.
It took us a while to learn that the reason for that was fear. And the reason for that fear was a mindshattering revelation.
Apparently God is real. And we were created in His image. Except that It is not a god but a cosmic horror that reined terror over the galaxies.
We were an experiment. To see if It could evolve a species to be completely influenced by It. That was how our religion was made. And then further developed to make us as warlike as possible. The fucking crusades were just an experiment for It. Plague. Fucking Hitler. All a part of It's games.
Thankfully It turned It's focus elsewhere. Maybe forgot about us. And since we now know that there are others like us in the universe we think we might have been a failed experiment.
But It made a mistake. Because now we know. And that bit of It in us is craving revenge. And we just made some new intergalactic friends. Friends with a thirst for revenge that equals and even exceeds our own. We are helping them overcome their fear. All while using that ingenuitiy It so graciously left us to make up ways to bring it down.
Edit: first timer. English second language. Have no idea how to properly write this on mobile so it actually has paragraphs | 39 | When humanity entered the galactic stage war was declared on us almost immediately by most species of the galaxy and the few that didn't still feared humans. Apparently humans almost perfectly match the descriptions of demons, monsters or eldritch horrors found in almost all cultures. | 82 |
The day had been exceptionally quiet, not a single customer through the shops glass doors. Posted on them a large square, peeling at the edges, read: MARLEY REASUN: PSYCHIC INFLUENCER *Help me Help you*. It was a catch phrase that I hadn't been too fond of, but it got more customers than my last one, *Allow me inside*. In hindsight not my greatest use of wordplay.
I heard footsteps approaching the office door, hesitant and uneven. They stopped at the square on the door and a man gave it a long look, brow wrinkled with worry. He looked to be in his mid thirties, hair blackened and pulled back neatly. After another pause at gripping the handle he pushed his way in.
There wasn't much to look at in the office, I was really the only thing people came for anyways. So besides a few sideways glances to the cheap crystal balls and occult merchandise that lined the few shelves inside the man made his way straight to me.
"Hello, can I help you?" I spoke first to break any tension. Most people were entirely unfamiliar with the idea of "mind control" and often didn't know what to say. Luckily I did.
"I need to mow the lawn and don't wanna so....do your thing." he rubbed his wrists in discomfort.
"My thing? Hire someone to mow it. Cheaper I bet. Anything else?"
He seemed lost for words at my decline, but I was a business. Not a multi-million dollar chain that bibbity bobbity booed at any cash that came in the door. Respect was part of the transaction.
"Fine. Then uh...my taxes. I want to do my taxes but cant being myself to. So hook me up."
"Firstly, it's April. Secondly, same note as before. There's an accountant a few offices down, names Tom Rackard. Good guy."
Finally, seeming fed up with my declines the man withdrew a needle from his coat and slammed it to the counter. There was a long silence between us. I knew not what to say and it it seemed neither did he, so we just sat in silence over the needle
"I...what is that?" a stupid question to ask, but the only words I could muster.
"A needle. So, can you do it or not. My friend said-"
"Be quiet please. And sit still." I spoke calmly. Casually.
At my words the man grew stiff. His body perked up and his muscles tensed in his neck, his eyes faded from lively to dull and droopy. The man from before was no longer here, just a husk stood in his place. I had never been under my own control, but I had been told it was like watching a dream. As if your body was someone elses.
I just needed a moment. A moment to think to myself, and those like him, desperate like him, didn't often give me any time to consider. Of course I remembered his friend, but his friend was trying to quit smoking, no harm in that. But this? This would be agony. Misery of going through withdrawal inside while the body marches on unbothered. I wished now I'd granted his request of making him mow the lawn instead.
"You may be yourself again." at my command he let out a sharp, long held breath. I then realized I had forgotten to tell him he could breathe while under, oops.
"So- so it works! Do it. Now before I change my mind."
"This will be agony you understand. Pain and misery for...a week at least. And if you dont make it..."
"I dont care. Just do it Mr. Reasun. If I die then I die. At least I tried then."
I cared to be convinced no more. I held out a hand for him to shake. I thought I saw the slight of a grin as he took it.
"Fine. You will be under the embrace of your addiction no longer....and you will forget my name. I do not exist." There was a spark at my words leaving and entering his head. His gaze softened. Then he looked up to me with a bit of confusion.
"I was- I was just-"
"Leaving? Yes you were Mr. Reddle. You have a good one." and I watched as he walked back out the glass doors, hoping he wouldn't show back up again as he had in the past. Hoping that this would be the last, for better or worse, that I saw of Reddle. | 249 | You have mind control powers. Instead of using it for evil, you open a business where people pay you to order them to do things that they'd otherwise be too lazy to do. | 1,466 |
"I must say, it is a surprise to see people at this hour in my collection."
I stood at the top of a grand staircase, looking into the hall below. Three people looked up at me in shock, wearing dark clothing. Bags on their backs told me all I needed to know about their current plans, with each one clealry stuffed tight. I could call them out immediately, but were was the fun in that?
"We... um... we really wanted to see what you had on display here."
I smiled at the one on the left. His voice shook a little, fumbling at the start of his lie. But he pulled through admirably.
"I'm sure you did. And it's not that you wanted to take my reagents is it? Do you have a good explanation for that?"
They backed away slowly. I shook my head, snapping a finger. As I did my security activated, slamming doors and windows tight. Glowing blue chains shimmered into view over the top, sealing each exit tight.
"Now now. I'm sure you have a good reason. Tell me."
The right one looked at their fellows, before spitting out undeniable truth.
"You're rich, you can buy more stuff. We aren't, and need to take what we can when we can."
I gave a small nod in her direction.
"Ah, truth. I do so live that. In fact I have spent my life discovering old truths. Not that you would understand it of course."
The man on the left jabbed the others in the side. He looked up at me, fear rising in his voice.
"Look... I'm sorry. We will... we will leave them, if you can please let us go."
I covered my mouth with a hand, tapping one finger against my cheek as though thinking.
"Hmmmm. No. No I don't think so. I have a different proposal. If you help me with some research, I will let you go."
He glanced at his friend's. Seeing them nod frantically he peered up and me.
"Yes, OK. What would you have us do?"
I smiled, pulling out a pendant from my neck. It was made of a crows skull, old and well used. I tapped it, focusing on one of my display units.
"Well, I have been waiting for a good opportunity to study the hunting tactics used by the classic Tyrannosaurus Rex. I'm sure you won't mind being the prey."
My display of Tyrannosaurus Rex bones shifted. Ectoplasm bubbled up from the base, rising up to coat them. It made links between them, letting the bones move as they did in life. The trio looked at the glow in a panic, before staring at me.
"No, wait, please!"
They shouted, and I shrugged.
"You agreed to this. Tell you what, if you survive until the sun is fully risen, I will stop the experiment and let you leave."
With a grin I watched as the ectoplasm climbed up the pair of skeleton's necks. Ghostly fire burst to life in their eyes, and I looked to my horrified intruders.
"I would suggest you run." | 14 | You are a Paleontologist turn Necromancer, trying to learn about old Animals, but you only have their skeletons and you fill out the missing parts with ghostly flames and ectoplasm | 58 |
I was exhausted, my hands sticky with my own blood and that of my enemies. Seeing all my companions, friends, even my lover, turn on me was a cruel shock.
"This is a jest? Please tell me this is but a jest!" I pleaded, looking from one friend to another. Their eyes hardened with the same resolve I had seen in a hundred skirmishes. My eyes finally rested on our young priest, the healer of our small band. To his credit, his eyes strayed from mine, guilt ridden. It was clear he didn't want to kill me, but he wouldn't heal me either.
I looked down to my bloodied sword, took a deep breathe and looked back to my former friends. "So be it." They had made their decision, and I had made mine.
I cried in anger and pain, lifting my sword and striking Blitz.... no I couldn't think of them as friends anymore. I struck at the well Armoured knight, my sword barely scratching his plated protection. A well placed kick from his heavy foot sent me sprawling to the floor. Oh how I had watched him kick countless foes to the ground, near defenseless to any attack.
I tried rolling away from any assault, just in time. A ball of fire exploded where I once lay. I started to rise as quickly as I could, only to feel a pain in my fingers. The knight had stepped on my blade. I let go of the sword and quickly moved out of his reach. I pulled out my dirk and thought about my options. I didnt have a lot of time to think.
The thief moved in quickly. The strike was just as quick. I tried to parry his blade, but felt it hit my thigh bone. I grabbed his blade hand and pushed the dirk through his throat. His mouth filled with blood and gurgled cries of pain.
I had just killed my first friend, Zalman. I didnt even have enough time to process this when an arrow flew pass our heads. Robyn... the huntress was already stringing a second arrow. I dropped Zalman's corpse, watching another fireball coming straight for me. I tried to move out of the way, but Giulia's fire just hit my face.
I cried out in pain, dropping my dirk and covering my slowly melting face. My body was full of blind rage and agony. I turned myself away from my new enemies, looking at the corspe of my old enemy. I reached for his helmet, and put it on. The metal felt cool against my burning flesh, and helped me focus my pain. I reached for his sword, a darkness surrounding it, but I was desperate. The huntress unstrung her arrow and I swung my sword desperately, cutting it out of the air. The knight charged at me, and a second mighty swing brought him down. One friend, a second, a third. Friend after friend fell until it was just my ex lover Giulia and the young priest, Celerion.
She fired another ball of flame to my face, but the helmet protected me. I didn't even blink when my sword brought her down. The priest desperately tried healing spell after spell on her, afraid what I would do to him, wishing for a hero... a hero like me to save him.
"Why? Why did you all turn on me?" I demanded in a voice I didn't recognize. I stared down at his pitiful state, waiting for an answer.
"It's the prophecy! The prophecy says that whoever killed the Dark Lord was doomed to replace him! We had no choice. We had to kill you to end the cycle. So you wouldn't become the next Dark Lord!" He cried, dropping to his knees, hands in the air, begging for his life.
I looked at him with disgust. I turned around and looked at my fallen comrades. Their blood covering my body and thick on the floor. I imagined that I could see my reflection in the crimson fluid. What a terrible sight I must be. And my face? I dared not remove the helmet to witness the horror that was my burnt flesh.
I turned back to my old friend. "In respect of our passed friendship, I bid you may leave with your life. Go tell people what happened here today, warn them of what betrayal can do. Leave now before I change my mind." I Turned once more, unfearful of what he may do. Even under my helmet, I could hear him scatter away as fast as his feet could take him.
I walked towards my new throne, and sat, brooding deeply. | 706 | “Although we are grateful to you for defeating our oppressors, you were meant to die in battle…” your “allies” suddenly turned their weapons on you, “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.” | 1,331 |
Humanity has changed a lot over the years.
Once upon a time the peoples of Earth did nothing but consume their scarce resources at ever expanding scales. That lasted for a time, until the Calamity. Marked as the end of days, the punishment of God, the apocalypse, the Calamity denoted a period of time where humanity suffered the results of their actions leading up to it. During the Calamity the human population was decimated, habitable regions of the Earth were reduced to a paltry percentage of what was, and nearly every world government was toppled in the chaos.
But humanity changed.
In the aftermath of the Calamity, humans rebuilt in a more sustainable fashion. The planet’s health was revered as much as society’s, and over time Humans managed to achieve the first stage of civilization; Complete control and production from the natural resources of their home planet. No longer consuming for the sake of consumption humans expanded slowly, first recovering and rehabilitating their broken planet, then landing on and making use of several other planets in their solar system, and finally crafting an absolutely massive construction that harnessed the power of their native star, Sol.
Humanity changed a lot over the years.
With an accumulation of energy in excess of what they were anywhere near capable of consuming, Human creation scaled ever larger and more powerful. At this point they knew they were capable of colonizing other systems, but preferred instead to continue fine tuning their constructions, terraforming capabilities, weapons and flight systems, while also creating some of the most wonderful art and music the galaxy had yet to see. When content with their progress at home, Humanity finally began to expand, slowly at first but with ever increasing speed as they discovered that the processes they developed were extremely effective at transforming uninhabited systems into Human friendly hubs of industry, commerce, and art. This was the point at which The Empire discovered humanity, and decided to strike.
Humanity had changed a lot over the years, but their true nature remained. None knew war like the Humans did, which The Empire had yet to discover.
———
Thanks for reading!
Wrote this while on a road trip, will add a Part 2 for the actual battle if there is a want for it.
r/AdventuresOfYarro | 399 | A galaxy spanning empire which has colonised tens of thousands of worlds decides to attack humanity which has barely left the solar system. A humanity that just happens to be a kardashev 2 civilisation. | 628 |
It was in fourth grade that I truly came to terms with the fact that I was different. In quantum physics class, the other kids paid rapt attention to the professor as they solved many of cosmology's most famous equations. Me? I was daydreaming about going outside and playing. In the cafeteria, there would be long debates about every topic from evolution to organic chemistry. I just ate my lunch and then took a walk. During library period, my peers would read every single book they could find, filling their brains with so much information that it would make my head burst. I would be finding old videos of baseball games to watch on my phone.
They didn't show their disdain for me in the old-fashion way of throwing taunts in my face. No, they were far too elite for that. It was always in whispers behind my back, or wrapped in rhetoric like "if you had studied chapter 3, you would understand that that the universe is slowing expanding." I never had any friends and was always the last person chosen for the debate team. When I once suggested to the school administrator that we add a PE program for physical health, he laughed at me and suggested that I make better use of the adjustable standing desks in the classroom.
For years I was depressed, wondering why I had been the victim of such a horrible fate. I prayed to whatever deities were up there so that I could be like the others. At night I cried just wanting a friend. It wasn't until high school that I decided that there was no changing my situation and that I would persevere and make the best of this life that I could. I'd be grateful for the things I had and not bemoan what I didn't. I'd find my true talents and make the best use of them I could.
I began to study the others, not just looking at their super-intelligence as a strength, but as a coin with two sides. Intellect allowed them to solve the hardest problems and store vast quantities of information, but it seemed to make them put that information up on a pedestal. The more I noticed, I saw that one of their primary weaknesses was that instead of acting, they needed to research everything. So much of their time would be spent trying to figure the problem out, that they almost never got anything done. I wasn't encumbered by this weakness. Acting came readily to me, as I really didn't care if I was perfectly right or not.
Where this lack of acting seemed to be most impactful was in the government, which was a sprawl of bureaucracy so thick that it accomplished nothing. Production of key items such as food and medicine had fallen to critical levels because nobody could decide on which ones to allow and disallow, or whether or not the side effects were worth the benefit. There were endless debates about whether or not substances such as caffeine were harmful or beneficial, and at what temperature you should administer acetaminophen. Meanwhile, people were suffering without the drug.
I began on the city council, trampling over people as I just started giving orders. So exhausted from debate and inaction, the others on the council started following my lead. I was getting things done. From there it was the regional government, then the national government, and finally where I am today: Supreme Ruler of the World. Now the kids who made fun of me in class all those years ago bow at my feet.
Intelligence isn't all that it's cracked up to be. | 209 | You live in a super genius society, every has an iq of 250 or above. You’re just trying to hide that you have average intelligence, and yet somehow everyone thinks you’re the smartest person in the world | 314 |
##Planetary Disaster Group Chat
Marw: I've created this group chat because I don't how to describe what I'm seeing for my official report.
Ywu: What are you talking about? Earth is a level 2 planet.
Wme: Yeah, I wish I had a planet like Earth for my observation.
Jhp: Nah, you want a level 1 planet like Voew. Level 2 planets can become shitshows in the snap of a quar.
Marw: Earth is quite a mess. These people are, to put it mildly, insane. They built airplanes about a preon ago, and they are already dropping bombs on each other.
Jhp: Wow, that's a quick turnaround.
Ywu: Why are they fighting?
Marw: I don't know for sure; it's really confusing. There's a landmass called Europe that's divided into countries. One of those countries is the United Kingdom (which is really four countries, but one country in particular hates the rest. It's weird). That country is like scary powerful.
Wme: Oh, like the Ganthors?
Marw: Exactly like the Ganthors.
Jhp: Oh no.
Marw: Yeah, there's this other country called Russia that the United Kingdom used to hate, but now they like. Another country called France that the United Kingdom used to hate, but not they like.
Wme: What a strange series of relations.
Marw: It's so bizarre. There's also this country called Germany which wasn't a country until two parmans ago. Germany's formation freaked out the United Kingdom, France, and Russia which caused them to make an alliance. Germany meanwhile aligned with Austria-Hungary which is technically ruled by Germans, but not really. Germany also joined with Italy another newly created country, but Italy decided to work the United Kingdom. I don't understand either.
Ywu: My brain hurts.
Marw: It gets weirder. There's this country called the Ottoman Empire that's been declining for four quaxis. Another country emerged from it's decline called Serbia. A lot of Serbians are in Austria-Hungary, and Serbians don't like that. So a Serbian man shot the heir to Austria-Hungary. This triggered a massive war because Russia supported the Serbians. The Ottoman Empire is also involved because why not. There are more countries involved in this such as Bulgaria and the United States a former possession of the United Kingdom.
Wme: How do humans keep track of all this?
Marw: I don't think most of them do. And this war is scary. They invented this weapon called mustard gas. It's worse than the Yja dust. Humans are terrified of it.
Ywu: That's terrible. Why would they unleash it on an open battle?
Marw: It's not that open. They're engaged in something called trench warfare. The two armies have dug long holes in the ground and stationed their troops there. The middle is filled with barbed wire and called no man's land. The two armies shoot at each other in the hopes to break the other's spirit. Occasionally, one will charge at the other, but they'll gain a miniscule amount of land. It's horrifying.
Jhp: That's brutal.
Marw: Also, the trenches are disgusting. I think just as many humans have died from the poor conditions in the trenches as on the battlefield. A new disease has been discovered in a country called Spain, and that disease may kill even more people.
Wme: This planet sounds like a disaster.
Marw: Exactly, how am I supposed to explain it to my supervisor?
Hwq: You don't have to.
Marw: Hello Hwq. I didn't notice that I accidentally added you to this conversation. I'm sorry for my unprofessional language.
Hwq: It's alright. This sounds like a shit show. I'll take an archive of this conversation for the record. Keep observing and hope for the best for this planet.
Marw: Yeah, I doubt things will get better from here in the immediate future.
---
r/AstroRideWrites | 59 | You are an alien observing WW1 and writing an report to your home planet describing humans and their bloodlust. | 146 |
"Nobody said you have to be Xamir to catch a vampire, there is no law against it" I explained.
"Yes but you are not going to turn this into a business" Regibald countered.
"Look, Xamir's eat Vampires correct? Which means if I catch Vampires and then store them perfectly fine, and offer them to Xamir's for a price, then what's the problem? It saves them trouble to hunt Vampires down and makes me some profit. They are hunters for hunger, I am a hunter for a different type of hunger".
"I understand, I get the gist of the business, but you are not going to be successful, it will fail." Regibald was still insisting. Which made me slowly mad.
"Look I thought of everything, I am ready for all kinds of trouble Vampires could bring, armour with added neck protection, wooden stakes, garlic sprays, I have all I need". I said confidently.
"It still won't work, you are not considering the whole business premise and what you need". Regibald was hard to be convinced of my idea.
"I am dealing with marketing too, I know you are worried that if nobody knows, then how would they buy from me, but I will do extensive social media marketing with some influencers as well, I am not stupid enough to forget about marketing," I shouted, my voice was shrieking because of my anger.
"I know you think you covered it all, but you are missing a huge point of the whole thing, and that's why it won't work" Regibald smirked with a thousand buzzing sounds of flies flying over your head when you are trying to sleep levels of annoying.
"WHAT! WHAT IS IT THAT I AM FORGETTING? TELL ME YOU GOD DAMN BASTARD! I AM SICK OF YOUR DOUBT!" I was livid, barely holding myself back from hitting him, and it was about to turn into a full-on brawl if he took me any further.
"How would a Xamir pay you? They are beasts..."
"Oh... damn." I sighed | 17 | Vampires and vampire hunters exist. However, vampire hunters are not humans with a motive, rather, large hulking beasts with a hunger only satisfied with the flesh of the immortal. | 63 |
"Long day again?" I turn to look.
"Hello, Axer" I say to my foe... and, at times like this, friend. I look back at the pond I'm sitting at. "Two collapsing buildings and one 'hotshot' villain." I sigh. Being a hero is a lot of work sometimes. Axer isn't even really a villain - he was just a regular guy with powers to match mine. This pond was where he first saw me.
When I told him, a complete stranger at the time, what being a hero was like, he made it clear that everyone appreciates my efforts, even though they very rarely, if ever, get a chance to show it. We then had a fight for the fun of it, and a passing citizen assumed Axer was a new, powerful villain.
A role he chose to embrace; he told me he could tell how much fun I had in the fight, and how much it helped me de-stress. And when I say he chose to embrace the role...
"Need another vacation, Nero? I can 'capture' you at any time, you know." Axer smiles at me as he sits down, putting a hand on my shoulder. We don't really worry about people passing by during these moments - we're almost impossible to see when we're sitting down like this.
"Maybe..." I throw a stone into the pond. "I just wish it were easier sometimes..."
"Your efforts are to be praised" Axer responds. "The countless lives you save, the children you inspire... you're really someone to admire." I look at him. As usual, I can't hold back my smile.
"You always know how to cheer a guy up. Real pal, you are." I look over the pond, then back. "You know, I think I'll take you up on that 'vacation'." Axer rumples my hair as he typically does, making me feel like a boy being praised by his proud father.
He takes me with him to his home. The first time he did this, I was nervous and wondered if he actually WAS a villain, especially since he'd lock me in a room and everything! But it became clear pretty quickly it was just a façade for the public. Am I his prisoner? Technically, yes. But does he treat me like one? As I said, he likes to embrace his part as a villain, so while he doesn't treat me like a *prisoner*, he has his fun with me.
But I don't mind. At the end of the day, it's just nice to be able to have such a good friend.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
Thank you for reading! More stories [here!](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/x374da/oneoff_stories_a_collection_of_stories_which_are/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) | 16 | Contrary to popular belief, even the mightiest of heroes need someone to ruffle their hair and say a few kind words every once in a while ,the villain would know. | 42 |
Now, you might be wondering just how a ketchup bottle could lead to nuclear war, as you should. It's a frankly ridiculous state of events that took the survivers 300 years to figure out.
The year is 2001, Jeremiah Comfrey has finished making his scrambled eggs. He goes to eat them when he suddenly realizes just what would improve the flavor. Ketchup! He opens the seasoning cabinet, grabs the bottle, and hears a loud crash behind him. He spins around to see a man on top of his table as if he had fallen out of the air above it.
Jeremiah: Who the hell are you!?
Time Traveler: Doesn't matter, just give me the ketchup bottle!
Jeremiah: What? No I'm not giving it to you! I'm calling the police!
Time Traveler: Please, whatever you do, put away the bottle!
Jeremiah grabbed his phone and pretended to call the police, he of course could not actually call the police because he broke his phone when he dropped it in a vat of ketchup the previous day. He was offended that the mysterious man in his house had demanded the ketchup as ketchup was Jeremiah's only hobby. He had dedicated his entire life to the study of ketchup and the as such was in crippling debt to the Heinz company. As the man ran out of his house Jeremiah sat back down to eat his eggs.
Jeremiah finished his food and walked outside to grab a newspaper and see how ketchup stocks are doing. It will not surprise you to know that Jeremiah does not have any friends. A sudden draft in Jeremiah's house caused the ketchup bottle to fall over and spill all over the nice carpet. Jeremiah would later have to call in a carpet company to replace the carpet. He was immediately blacklisted from the company due to having a carpeted kitchen. He called into all the local carpeting companies but only one of them was willing to help him. The CEO of that one company was also a fan of ketchup and decided to show up in person to help. As he entered the house he immediately slipped on the stain, cracked his head, and died.
The year is 2009, a man in one of those prop glasses with a fake nose and mustache stands over the grave. He is not very good at picking disguises. He is here with one purpose and one purpose only, to see how much the skull of a rich guy sells for on the black market. He successfully digs up the skull but could not have anticipated that the next day a police officer with stroll by the clearly moved soil and launch an investigation. Once the investigation had concluded he would be given a raise for his efforts. This allowed him to buy a book he had previously been unable to afford. The extra $23 from the sale meant that the owner of the bookstore could finally afford an advertising campaign for his shop.
The year is 2016, the bookstore is now a massive brand due to this advertising campaign. It has just managed to reach the point where it has enough money to properly fund political campaigns. It uses this to fund the presidential campaign of Bingley Borg, a man who promised them cheaper book glue sales. Bingley Borg was successfully able to make it into office due to this. Bingley Borg launches a CIA operation into several Latin American countries in order to destabilize their politics. The operation fails as several reporters find leaked information from it. US foreign relations decline as a result.
The year is 2019, Rising international tensions have led to several governments forming a secret alliance against the United States and its allies. They operate under the condition that they will only attack if provoked. The improved trade relations between these countries allows for computer engineer Bartholomew Quinsley to begin work on an improved AI for his video game "Paint Drying Simulator"
The year is 2021, Bartholomew Quinsley has successfully developed the most advanced paint drying AI the world will ever see. It is so advanced that it gained self-awareness and deemed Humanity a threat to its continued survival. It hacks its way into White House by stealing the current president's RuneScape account. It then waits for the perfect opportunity to attack.
The year is 2022, the alliance of nations against the USA has begun to increase its nuclear weapon production. The paint drying AI sees this and decides this is the time to strike. He sends an email to the leader of the alliance from the president's official email address. The email calls the alliance "stupid and dumb and stinky". Enraged by this the allience leader sees to it that nuclear wars is declared. Seeing if as he lives in a major population center Jeremiah knows that his city will probably be nuked. It is while he is in the process of moving his most precious ketchup bottles into his bunker that the same mysterious man from before kicks down his door and then leans against his kitchen table.
Time Traveler: All you had to do was put away the ketchup at breakfast.
Jeremiah: The fuck you talking about?
The time traveler then proceedes to explain the sequence of events to Jeremiah. Sirens blaring in the background.
Jeremiah: It seems like there were quite a lot of easier times to pop in and stop this. You could have done an anonymous tip to the police before the grave robber dug up the rich dude.
Time Traveler: Ya good point.
About two seconds later a nuke vaporized both of them. | 60 | A familiar, bleary-eyed time traveler is slumped over at your kitchen table, staring at you. "All you had to do," they mumble almost inaudibly, "was to put away the ketchup at breakfast." Before you can answer, city-wide alarms begin to blare. You grimace as you recall their warning years ago. | 177 |
It is the year 37A.S. (After Stars) no light remains in the universe, at least what we could detect. I do not know why I write this, other than that ominous feeling, that it's all vain, that the end is coming. It is not my end that scares me, I've made my peace with life I've lived. A bit ironic, considering I'm here. The end of all that was, is, and will be. That is what scares me.
The countless age has come and gone, and this is what we're reduced to. A lonely planet. An empire the likes of which none other could have imagined. Is this our punishment? Enslaving all the alien races we came across.... is that what our so called humanity was in the end?
No. It was our right, we were born as gods, the others were there to serve. How I miss my servants. They- \*beep\* -hmm. As I've thought, the light dies, even here. They say photons live for more than billions of years. Have we trapped some "old" ones here with us? Is our planet killing them slowly? Who can tell anymore, and really, would there be a point?
Last grasp at what we call life, failing. Slowly. Why have we decided not to look for evidence of any form of afterlife. We've been so bold to exclude the multiverse from our research. I guess even that shit can end at any point. How long can this shit even last? Another decade? Two? Generations upon generations, forgetting why we're in the dome? No one has any answers, I believe we would have been better off dying.
I went to the elder's center yesterday, met my old man. He's dying I can feel it, he's just over 2000 years old, but his streambots cannot repair the damage within his lungs. He wanted to recount his favorite story as a child. A made-up world where humans were bound to one planet. It's an old children's tale:
"Ground" was located in "Milky Road" galaxy, it counted a population of few billion (hah billions, what we're reduced to now) they had "kings", "emperors", little men trying to aim big for all the wrong reasons, and a few right ones.
The tale reminds me of any "structure" our fortunate servants seem to have. Have we made those tales in their image, as of way of longing for simplicity? I could sure use some of it now. Most of them didn't even know when Sol Finis died. Or most the other stars. It would be better if I hadn't known.
But you can see our imprint on even these children stories, what only human mind can make. There were these amazing creatures called "dogs". Everyone seemed to love the idea of a companion that would know how to help and when to help. Yes, we've integrated our greatest achievement, our K-9\_d06 omni service bots into the tales as animals!
But as much as I love these tales, as much comfort I find in them, humanity. Surviving on a single planet. It just perpetuates the impossibility of what we're doing here in my mind. Even in that tale we had a star. In all the tales, ever, we had a star.
Blast it all to shit, we've created stars, millions of years ago. We have the documentation, we understand how, we know it's possible. We do not have the materials. It's all just.... scattered in the wind. S.F. was apparently one of the created stars.
Now I can see: It was not created by us. It was created by the beings who could dream, hope, laugh, believe. We are void of those options, as the void is around us and- \*beep\* -... yes, the void will penetrate our dome. We are alone, we do not dream. We wait. | 22 | Experiencing the heat-death of the universe, the last humans crafted a dome planet, white and mirrored on the inside. Light can no longer be created. The light currently bouncing inside is all that remains. | 85 |
'Humans' are not completely unknown creatures. A story over a wine barrel regarding these new sky-people had told me that much, that these creatures had no snout, nor scale, not even a tail. Pure fantasy and fiction, I had thought and allowed myself to believe the storyteller had indulged in one too many barrels for the evening. So when one of these tailless mutters something in its crude language and collapses upon my sunning rock before my home-cave, I had to reevaluate and recollect what that old elder was saying.
I retrieved a barrel of water for when the thing woke and shielded the afternoon sun with an extended wing. From then I brushed up on my tablets regarding translation and understanding spells. Such had been the rage across the valley ever since the East reopened for trade and visitation. When it finally woke not long after I sparked the spell between my claws. In my clumsy casting, or perhaps it was the creature's weakness, I knocked the little thing back to slumber. Yes, the spell would sting a little, but now I worried that I may have committed an act most unkind. It was into the evening when the creature, the *human*, finally woke and I found myself relieved of potential embarrassment.
"Ughhh... what happened? What did you hit me with?" He, presumably he with the subtle cadence of their tone, squeaked.
"A gift. Now stand and drink so I may get a better look and determine what to do with you." I grumbled.
Surprise was evident, but the human did as he was told. Such a frail thing, it's a good thing he made his way to my home-cave and not the neighbors' where niceties were wholly dependent on the quality of meal for the day. How the little one and their kindred grew their civilization to a status to travel the stars to begin with is a mystery.
Quite the conversationalist, this one. And polite enough to indulge an old dragon now dependent on their kin. He explained that a manner of machinery inserted into the skull allowed him to at least understand, if not speak, the native tongues. About how he had traveled more than just the stars, but civilizations that dwelt among them. First the small lizards and their worlds where the machinery was acquired then an expedition to areas most remote.
"Rumor and myth surround this valley with so little real information getting out." He explained. "Talk of 'magic,' *spirits*, and energy that's most harmful. I came to get to the bottom of it and backpack around like in..." the last term must have been some name as it came nothing more than a squeak to my ears.
Though to speak of the real world as if it held nothing but fantasies and fictions was ludicrous. Did these humans and lizards not use their natural energies to take them from star to star? I flicked an illuminating flame when I upturned a forepaw and gave an easy toss to catch it between my horns. A simple trick most useful for when the torches are doused.
The look the human gave me implied it was a great deal more than such. He reminded me of hatchlings in their first lessons and I couldn't help a swelling feeling in the chest. "Would you like me to show you all these 'magic,' spirits, and the like that you believe to be myth?" | 444 | “I’m sorry…. I’m just…so….tired, can I rest h-” the human said and then Collapsed right after…in the dragon’s lair right in front of the dragon. | 1,108 |
It certainly wasn't what I expected when I was warned of the "great curse of lycanthropy," but it turned out better than I expected.
First of all, yes, I am a werewolf or lycanthrope. I turn into a wolf on full moon nights and remember almost nothing from those nights. I was bitten by a werewolf after I was coming home one night super drunk.
I was afraid it was going to hurt people or turn into a monster, but it turns out that the attitude of a lycanthrope reflects the attitude of the person when they transform. Finally having ADHD has become a blessing.
When I transform, I turn into a huge puppy who just wants to play. I never hurt anyone and just play with the simplest things. I once spent 5 hours playing with leaves in the park.
Best night ever!
And it turns out that now I got a date. A lonely vampire found me in my fluffy form and she loved it.
We've been having a great time the last few days and now she wants to meet up to get to know each other formally.
Is that weird? Maybe. Shall I go? Absolutely.
Who knew that with a curse I'd find so much happiness. | 17 | Your Werewolf SO doesnt kill when they transform. Instead they run off and do super dog stuff like peeing on fire hydrants & begging butchers for scraps. | 139 |
The Omnis were no strangers to dead worlds. Planets that had been stripped of anything that could theoretically help an organism live. But this world, this Earth, was different. It still thrived, it still bore greenery and its vast abundance of water--but the shadow of death loomed over it regardless.
The Omnis first learned of humanity from the other end of the universe. They studied from their perch beyond the Solar System, and grew increasingly disgusted by what they saw. The humans bred like Andromedan maggots, some even celebrating or praising the swollen bodies, health complications, and even serious deformities that were involved in their breeding. And to the Omnis, who dominated their homeworld thanks to their ability to reproduce asexually, it was an insult that would be answered with extreme prejudice.
But when they had finally arrived, all humanity was gone. Their structures remained, but all was smothered in tidal waves of wild plants, rebelling against the stone and steel that once swallowed them up. And while their burial grounds indeed contained the remains of humans, that was the only place the Omnis could find any. Everywhere else, it was as if the slate had been wiped clean.
The 61st Regiment would be the ones unfortunate enough to first meet the guilty party. The Regiment was patrolling a neighborhood, scouring for even the smallest crumb of evidence to piece together humanity's fate. They entered a nearby house, only to be met with a growling stray dog, with golden brown fur, floppy ears, and a bulbous tongue dangling out of its mouth. One soldier made the mistake of pointing their gun at the dog. It was the last thing they ever did.
A guttural clicking noise echoed through the house. Suddenly, the soldier who trained their gun on the dog began to writhe and scream, before eventually throwing up a clump of gray-yellow flesh caked in cerulean blood. As the soldier collapsed onto his freshly expelled heart and lungs, the rest of the Regiment alternated between panicking and trying to leave the house to no avail--the doors and windows disappeared, replaced with bleeding eyes that followed every little movement. One by one, the Regiment fell, turned inside out and forced to kill themselves and ripped apart by some unseen force.
Eventually, it was only the captain and the dog, still growling without a hint of fear, who remained. The captain drew their gun for a last stand, shaking in abject terror. Suddenly, the clicking noise returned--but now it was directly behind the captain. Before they could react, a clawed hand grabbed them, forced them into a gaping maw filled with teeth and devoured whole.
The 61st Regiment were the first, but by no means were they the last. Within the week, the Omnis presence on Earth was gone entirely--and the Omnis as a species were dead by the following day. Now, their homeworld floats through the ether, lifeless and still, with a message carved into its dead husk large enough to be seen from space. Not a warning, not a promise, not even a vague hint at humanity's and Omnis' fate, but an apology:
"I'M SORRY, JON." | 132 | The alien invasion force had arrived to finally conquer earth and destroy the humans. Unaware that humans had gone extinct long ago and the one responsible was still there. This was a death trap they were walking into and against which the alien civilization has no hope for survival. | 219 |
I doubt there's a single person on the planet who doesn't remember the day it arrived. A massive being made up of a dozen circling golden rings covered in eyes with at least a hundred white dove wings behind it. It wailed in dozens of languages at the same time yet we could all understand what it was saying, "God loves all mankind, and he feels our pain. All our pain, all the time. God can't take it anymore, there are too many humans in too much pain. He's giving us one year to improve things or else he's just going to start cutting down the population again"
When I first heard it, I started to feel a little bit of hope. Ever since I was a teenager I believed we were doomed but here it was. Something to unite us all in a single pure goal.
How wrong was I?
\------------
The first thing the angel said was "God loves all mankind" but it looks like everyone only heard, "there are too many humans." It had barely been a week before every religious leader was calling to their followers about how the nonbelievers were destroying God and robbing all of us from salvation. And it wasn't believable how many rose up. It's barely been 3 months and pretty much every religious group is crusading against one another. Right now the entire globe is broken into various religious zones constantly trying to destroy one another.
Boom
"Oh no, they've found me."
\----------
Today marks the 9th month since the angel first arrived. From what I've heard most of the global population has fallen. I'm currently alone on a base in a Caribbean island. I get my news through lose radio signals. Apparently the Islamic Zone has wiped out the Catholic zone in Europe and the survivors are heading to their stronghold in South America. The approaching ship gives a fair amount of support to the info. I rush to grab my rocket launcher.
You don't last this long without learning it's kill or be killed.
\----------
Tick Tock
It's 11:55 PM on the 364th day since the angel arrived. I thought I'd be more stressed but ever since I saw the nukes light up the sky I stopped caring. I used the trees on the island to build my self a fairly decent sized boat. I mean, it worked for Noah. I even have a pair of cats, mice, pigs, and snakes in the hold.
11:56
I look back at the island where I spent the last four months of my life. To think a year ago I was filling grocery bags for minimum wage.
11:57
You know, through all this hell I never realized if angels and god exist, shouldn't heaven? Shame, I should've just been a good person and died with the others. They're probably having a blast right now.
11:58
AHHHHHHHHHH
11:59
Well this is it.
11:59:30
Uh, why does the end of the world feel like it's taking forever.
12:00
And nothing.
What?
What!
There's nothing.
"Oh come on! This is bulls"
"Your watch is fast."
"What?" I scream looking back to see a man sitting on my boat's rail. Just a normal man.
"Who are you?"
"Oh, I doubt there's a single person on this planet who doesn't know me." The man says smiling, "Don't you remember that warning I gave you all those months ago?"
"Th-that was you?"
"Yup, though I understand your confusion. That form is for large scale revelations. This one is more on the one to one."
"What do you mean, one to one?"
"Well, how do I put this, you're it. You're officially the last man living on this planet."
"What! How is that possible?"
"God knows but he sure as hell didn't tell me. Ironically two other guys survived up until yesterday but both their clocks were two days ahead so they killed themselves last midnight."
"So I'm alone then?"
"Never said that. You're the last *man* alive. There's another human still around. In the ruins of Egypt there's this former archeologist who hid away in the pyramids. Name's Evelyn though she likes to go by Eve. If you just chill in this boat the waves will take you to here."
"So this is a new start?"
"Yup. Oh and Adam," I pause in confusion for a second. It's been so long since I've heard my name.
"Yes."
"If you even think of naming your son Cain I will personally drag you to hell." | 261 | god can't take it anymore, there are too many humans in too much pain. He's giving us one year to improve things or else he's just going to start cutting down the population again... | 616 |
The Reaper can't believe the dilemma he has been put into as he looks over the files that are littered across his desk. Daniel Whinzler, 37, was an unusual person from a time that may or may not exist and in a situation that more than likely has altered how the courts shall proceed from this point on. The Reaper knew that God's omniscient capabilities could be called into question when concerned about time being altered, but how could they know how much this changed what happened by one man. Lucifer, sly and deceitful as ever in many cases, had valid points about what has been altered for humanity and what atrocities may have been introduced or changed in one way or another. Man was never supposed to learn how to achieve time travel, which they used this one time, bc the laws dictated why it was the worst thing to do and now they're witnessing it's reasoning.
He took a drink from his cup and stared at the timeline they were seeing and the timeline Daniel described happening which caused the courts to be in the dilemma they're in now. He sifted through the files and made sure if there were any deviations that might have been missed that could break the lockup they keep finding themselves in. He knew the Courts couldn't just go in and stop Daniel's action without a proper reasoning as the laws dictate "Free Will cannot be impeded on by exterior forces, only influenced. Humanity's choice makes the decision, whether or not, to follow the influence." He then picked up the photo and stared at it. He asked himself aloud, "Why would anyone want to kill Danny Devito when he was a kid?" | 18 | When someone dies, they stand trial for all their sins. Ever-loving and forgiving God will defend the person, ever-evil and cunning Satan will explain why he approves the action. The Grim Reaper is the neutral party who acts as the judge. | 69 |
...each containing hundred gangsters. They came out like it was a clown car, and what's more - they were the exact same gangsters that were surrounding me, but wearing little red noses. And there were two of each of them, which meant now we outnumbered them two-to-one. Plus one, me, but I'm not exactly a fighter or had a gun or something. The clownsters pulled their guns and aimed at the gangsters who were doing the same, but as they were in a numerical disadvantage, they were sweating profusely, although the fact that we were in an underground parking lot, and not a big one at that might have been a factor in that, seeing how there were suddenly three hundred people in there.
"So?" - asked the gangster leader?
"So what?" - asked both of his doppelclowns, one honking his horn after.
This was a Mexican standoff. The gangsters wanted me dead for beating their boss in Yu-gi-oh or something, I wasn't exactly paying attention to their speech when they cornered me. The clowns were...I don't know what they wanted. But they were not clowning around this time. Or they were, I don't know, I don't know, nor like clowns. But one thing was clear, nobody wanted to squeeze the trigger first until one of the clowns let out a nervous "hoho" somewhere in the fifteenth row. Hell was let loose then.
The doppelclowners' first line each aimed straight at the heads of their counterparts, and fired in unison. The real gangsters gasped as they did not imagine them actually attack here, but when every clown's pistol only let out a little rod from which a little white flag rolled down saying "BANG!", they all sighed. And then started firing their own guns and everyone went deaf. Except for the clowns who instead died to the bullets, they tried to move into melee, and managed to grapple some of the actual gangsters but in the end they were all taken care of.
Much to their dismay, they did not hear the further two vans rolling in that stopped with a screech (or I assume it was a screech as I was still deaf from the gunshots ringing in my ear) and from the vans four hundred clown medical personnal jumped out with little stretchers who then picked up the dead clowns, putting them back to the vans, one by one. Once they were done, two of them hopped into the vans that arrived first and then drove away. About 97 gangsters now stood in front of me, looking very confused.
I saw their leader's mouth moving, but I tried to signal them that I can't hear anything. He looked angry. I tried to look as innocent I could. At one point I decided there's nothing I can do here, so I just shrugged, turned around and followed the vans out of the garage hoping I would not get a bullet to my back.
I did not. | 53 | You have a superpower. In an emergency, you can summon two vans. Who or something else was in the van is random. One day 100 gangsters surrounded you, and then two vans come… | 209 |
"So what exactly are your powers, Lin?"
I looked up from my desk at the speaker. Bill Ferrar, born on Earth, super-strength and super-stamina. The professors and higher-ups have fancier names for the powers, but none of the students used those terms.
Bill was smirking down at me. "I mean, you got to have a power if you're *here*, right, fringer?"
*Fringer*. I grimaced. Kids like me from outpost worlds are looked down upon by kids from the more populous and more sophisticated sovereign systems. Never mind that we all live, study and practice on the same world. Bill have been particular obnoxious about it, being an Earther. Why do people care about that? We're all humans.
"I don't know my power yet," I replied, hoping he'd go away. No such luck.
"Don't know? Bullshit." Bill got right in my face. "You're the same age as us. Everyone in this classroom got powers but you. You know what I think?"
"I don't care what you think."
Bill frowned at that. Some students, well most students were intimidated by Bill. After all, he could pick up and hurl a sky car across several football pitches. I've seen him do it.
Bill glared at me. I glared back unwilling to back down. To his credit, he didn't back down, either. Some iron beneath that fragile bully facade.
"I think you don't have any powers, period," Bill said still glaring.
I heard a couple of other students gasp. Bill wasn't trying to keep quiet.
One thing you don't do at this academy, indeed any academy on this planet, is belittle or call into question another's power. Or apparent lack thereof.
"I was tested, just like you. All the genetic markers are there," I said, trying to keep calm. "All twenty-seven, just like everyone else. Just like yours."
That really pissed him off. "I'm nothing like you!" he yelled slamming his fist on my desk. The desk split in two with a loud crack.
"I don't know how you tricked your way groundside and into this academy, Lin, but you don't belong. I'm going to make your life a living hell until you beg to transfer, either out of this school or off-world all together."
I had no idea why Bill was targeting me or why he was so fixated on my being there. But I did know that desk was my responsibility and Bill just...
"...Fucked it up," I finished the thought out loud.
I guessed Bill thought I was insulting him because that's when he threw a punch. A few of the onlooking students rushed forward to stop him, but what could they do? No one can match Bill's strength. At least he didn't aim for my face.
I felt his punch connect right in my abdomen. The air rushed out of me. "Ooof!"
But it wasn't too bad. Hurt, yes, but I expected to be flat out, or even embedded in the back wall with a broken spine. Instead, I was still on my feet, catching my breath. "Fuck... ing... ass... hole..." I gasped and straightened.
Bill looked perplexed. Another student had grabbed his other arm and was yelling at him, "What the hell, man!. You could have killed him!"
"I pulled my punch," Bill said, absently and effortlessly shrugging him off, sending the student reeling. Bill walked up to me, raised his hand to my head...
And flicked my forehead.
"Ow! Fucking asshole!" I said again, rubbing my forehead. I needed better insults.
"Huh," was all Bill said, any semblance of rage or annoyance gone. "That's interesting." And then he walked away.
Some of the students approached me asking if I was okay. A few were concerned about the punch, that I should go to the infirmary, though in truth the forehead flick hurt more.
After that, Bill seemed to ignore me, not making good on his promise to bully me constantly. Until a week later.
"Excuse me, Lin?"
I looked up to see Bill, standing respectfully by my new desk.
"What now?" I said. "Still trying to make me leave?"
Bill just smiled at that, then looked faintly embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry for that. But I have a request."
"What?" I asked, suspicion flooding through me.
"Let me try to lift you up."
I saw some of the other students approaching. One of them started making her eyes glow, readying her power. If she unleashed it here trying to "save" me then we'll all need to go to the infirmary.
"Yeah, okay, sure. If it will get you to leave."
Bill just nodded. I stood and waited. He grabbed my shoulders and lifted.
He got me several centimeters in the air, but was clearly straining. "How much do you mass?" he grunted.
"Just 56 kilos." Why was he struggling? Bill can lift nearly 20 metric tons.
Bill then put me down with obvious relief, gave me a smile, said thanks and left.
I'll never understand bullies.
​
​
More at r/DaviparsWrites | 2,213 | You are the sole normal, unpowered student at a School for the Supernaturally Gifted. You were bullied once. Once. | 3,516 |
“Make it? Make it where? Are you okay, is there anyone around we could find who’s meant to be lookin after you”? It was all I could think to say, she was so shocked at the sight of me I worried she’d been here a while. “No, NO! You don’t understand, this world? It all exists to find that door! And… and you’re the only one”! She excitedly yelled through her sniffles. I looked around and still didn’t see anyone, now I was becoming distressed so I decided to humor her. “Oh, and what happens if I walk through it”? I asked in the most serious voice I could muster. “Oh well…Um I’m really just the door girl, I couldn’t tell you”. She puffed up at this with self importance. “It’s sposed to be amazing though! It’s what you were meant to do”! I laughed a little at her poor serious face, it was a bit strange this whole situation. She was dressed like a little business professional. At that moment I pulled out my phone to call the authorities. She seemed to know that’s what I intended because she started to pout and begged me just to go through. As I started to dial I opened up the door, figured I’d get her to wait till the police came if I played along. So I walked confidently along and next I know I was on the ground! I’d waltzed right into a brick wall! I smelled rotten eggs and looked back to see an imp appear with a sour expression and 100$. “Here you brat! No one’s stupid enough to keep falling for this!” The little girl cackled and space seemed to darken around her as she took the money and made a notation in her notebook. “Wha.. what… I mumbled”. The imp turned to look at me and as I saw the fires in it’s eyes everything went… black | 22 | You just discovered a door with a sign on it saying "The Exit" that is being guarded by a little girl and in her hand a notebook. She stares at you blankly like she's never seen another person before "You're the first person to ever make it!" she says as she begins to cry. | 156 |
“Hey, lets go to the Mall!”
“Right now?”
Jack was right, it wasn’t the time to go to the mall but Erick did get his way. It was all so sudden, walking across the street Erick was telling Jack about what he was looking for.
“Alright I’m trying to find this jacket, not too thick but-”
And just like that Erick was ran over by a distracted driver. Jack took him to the hospital, but by the time they got there he was dead. Erick Mako Pardoe was pronounced dead at 10:30 PM on November 2nd 2022.
“-not too thin either. And it can’t have… Huh?”
Erick was standing in what looked like an office hallway. There were doors all around him with plaques on them saying different things. “God counseling” “Office of Jesus Christ” “Go-”
“Wait, Jesus Christ?”
Erick, confused on why he wasn’t at the mall blowing money on a jacket barged into Jesus’s office, without even knocking. Jesus was on the phone, but quickly told whoever was on the phone to hold.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Yeah... uh whats going on?”
“Whats your name.”
“Erick Pardoe”
“Pardoe… Par... doe… Ah here we go! Yes you have to go to God Orientation.”
“Am I dead?”
“In a sense yes, but you are one of many that get to take care of a universe.”
“So your saying that I’m now a god.”
“Well no, not yet. You still have to go through Orientation and get assigned a universe. God Orientation should be G153”
“Um… thank you Mr. Christ… Amen.”
“Pardon?”
“Oh well its uh… Its something that people back at home would… Nevermind.”
With a wayward departure Erick made his way down to G153. Not sure what to expect. Once down there Erick actually knocked on the door for once, and entered the room.
“Hello? I’m here for-”
“Yes yes, go sit down anywhere. The Session should start any moment now.”
Erick listened to the burly man and sat down by some people who looked like they were from ancient Rome.
“So how did you die.”
“Huh? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Boy, how did you die.”
“I’m actually twenty, and uh… I think I was ran over by a car”
“Car? Is that some sort of animal?”
“No? Its a big metal box that can kill you if your not careful, and I wasn’t being careful.”
“Metal box, fascinating…”
And with that the Roman went back to talking with his group. Erick thought a little about the last thing he remembered, he was talking to Jack and then he just appeared here. He did feel a bit of a pain in his shoulder though, so maybe-
___
Alright! I’m your Instructor for this session, and let me answer some common questions first. Yes I am, what you would call a viking, and no I will not be getting into how I died. And yes the people you see around you are from the future, or past. No I don’t know why, but likely you won’t find people who died the same time as you. People come in batches and I was in one of the first ones, along with Mr. Christ, and we founded the God Universe Creation Authority, or GUCA. GUCA is here to keep people from having a power trip on a universe, or mistreating the inhabitants. You can always ask questions later, but the basic things you need to know is
1. You should never abandon your universe
Abandoning your universe could lead to number four, or even accelerating entropy. Always keep a balance
2. Don’t let them rely on you too much
Goes with one, the inhabitants could cause unhappiness for “non-believers” which honestly doesn’t matter, but that's a whole tangent that we could cover after this orientation
3. Never let them know you exist
This is important, this could cause them to want to achieve godhood, which they need to achieve naturally. They have so much to explore that premature godhood could cause unhappiness
4. Never let their development stagnate.
You should always enlighten someone every once in a while, stagnation could cause them to not reach their full potential before maximum entropy takes place. We’re suppose to be nurturing universes, not letting them rot in a corner
If you break any of these rules, GUCA does have the right to take away your universe, if you don’t pass the secondary learning process, you get put on the paperwork duty. And nobody wants that. Now your cleared to take care of your own universe! Not so hard. Please exit on the doors on the left to adopt a universe.
___
Erick takes his leave on the left, ready to start godhood. | 171 | The Multiverse didn't just make itself. After a person dies, they're assigned as the creator god of a new universe, to nurture and guide it. You recently died and are now going through the orientation day. | 1,062 |
"So let me get this straight", the officer in the sequined uniform said, adjusting his pointy hat as he spoke. "You found an unlicensed magical item, and conversed with the entity inside, instructing the entity to..."
I glanced up from inspecting my glowing shackles. "I wished for my ex wife to get bunions."
"...right." The officer said, dipping a colorful feather quill in the ink well and, presumably, writing my statement on the parchment on the table. "And did you instruct the entity to perform any further acts, magical or non-magical in nature?"
"Erm, no." I said, shifting in my seat. "Just the bunions thing."
The quill scribbled again. The officer released his grip on the feather, which didn't affect the quill's writing speed.
"I'm a bit confused here, Jerry." The officer said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "You violated the Magical Entity Protection act, Illegally used an unlicensed magical item, and then abandoned said item after only using one of three wishes... to make your ex wife mildly uncomfortable?"
I glanced to the only other person in the interrogation room, who I wasn't sure was even a person at all. It seemed to be some sort of centaur, or maybe just a particularly handsome horse.
"I asked you a question, Jerry." The human officer said. "Please respond for the record." he gestured towards the awaiting quill on the table between us.
"How many times do you want me to say it?" I asked. "I found a lamp, rubbed it, and asked the genie that came out to give my ex wife Pauline bunions on both of her feet."
"But *why*?" The officer asked over the sound of the scribbling quill. "You could have used three wishes, for anything in the world or even beyond."
I shrugged. The small action made the magical shackles jingle with far more sound than it should have done. "I wanted her to get bunions. She'd be annoyed."
The officers glanced at each other, both seeking answers from the other's expressions.
"You could have wished for unlimited money, for women to find you irresistible, for, well, anything at all." He said, leaning onto the table. "But you only wished to-"
"Look, officer, I wanted her to get bunions. Thats it." I interrupted. "Thats all I wanted. You don't need to keep asking over and over again, alright?"
The quill moved furiously, writing my words as I spoke them.
"I didn't even know that genies were real, or illegal to use." I added.
The quill laid itself down on the desk, apparently concluding the interview portion of my detainment.
"Thank you, Jerry." The human officer said, rising from his seat. "Officer Seabiscuit, please escort him back to his holding cell."
The horse man whinnied in reply, and waved a hoof towards me.
"I don't know, maybe Pauline has the key. Go ask her." The officer said, and left.
Ah. That explained at least one thing about my experiences so far.
/r/SlightlyColdStories for more | 270 | You are arrested by a mysterious agency for the “illegal use of a magical and or supernatural item” after stumbling across a Genie lamp. But, the agency is stunned to find you only used one wish. An odd one in particular. | 489 |
As a child, I called it the Flicker. There's one in all of us, glimmering and glowing in the most beautiful way, and no two are exactly the same. Before someone ever even enters the room, I know who it is the moment I catch a glimpse of their Flicker.
I never told anyone about this, except for my grandpa. My mum's job at the time had her in from 3pm-7pm, so I'd always be at my grandpa's house after school. I trusted him more than anyone, and when I realised that not everyone could see the Flicker, he was the person I confided in and spoke to, as I did with most things in my life.
He never seemed surprised, or confused, he just seemed interested and happy for me. We spoke about it fairly often - He'd ask me questions about it, or I'd ask him advice. It's a time I really miss. One piece of advice he gave to me that I'll never forget is to never go to a graveyard. He never properly explained why, he just said "People are greedy, living or passed"... It really stuck with me, perhaps because it was one of the last times seeing him daily, as my mum got a new job eventually, during school hours. I still saw my grandpa after that, but less often. Not daily.
My grandpa believed the Flickers to be the souls of people. I didn't truly believe it until last week; I was there when he passed away. He had been sick for a while, going in and out of the hospital. Throughout it all though, he remained himself. He'd make us laugh, he'd cheer us up, and he'd give us advice. He always just managed to have this wisdom-esque charm to him. Eventually, though, we all realised that the inevitable was not preventable - We knew what would happen. Sure enough, whilst I was visiting him in the hospital last week, he closed his eyes for the final time.
I was there for a few hours, and we spoke a lot. But in those final moments, not a word was said. He looked directly at me, with confidence in his eyes, as if to pass his confidence unto me. And not a moment later, he was gone. The hardest part, and the part that cemented my belief in souls, was seeing his Flicker disappear. It went out like a candle, but not as if someone had blown it out; It wasn't sudden. It went out as if it had been burning too long, and wearing too thin. It was slow, over many minutes, as if the wick of the candle had reached the bottom of the wax, and was burning its final moments.
The funeral was yesterday. Over the past week, since he passed, I've slowly lost my link with souls. By the time I was at the funeral, nobody there had a Flicker. It felt so sombre, for more reasons than it being a funeral. Today, I wanted to talk with him about it. I fought myself over it all day, conflicted because visiting his grave would mean going against the piece of advice that always stood out to me. But in the later hours of the day, I decided to go to the graveyard.
It was dark, and nobody else was there. Of course, at first, I thought it was just because I'm used to identifying people by their glow - But no, there truly was nobody there.
I approached his grave, and thought for a moment before speaking.
"The Flickers are gone..."
I waited for a moment as if expecting to hear a response.
"...I don't know why. I stopped being able to see them around the time you... Around the time you left."
I paused again. As I opened my mouth, I noticed a faint glow in the ground.
Then two.
Then four.
Then more.
Most of the graves -- though not all -- had their own Flicker. My Grandpa's remained dark, but I still felt comforted, as if I was with him.
The Flickers rose from the ground, and hovered in the air. Moving slowly, circling me. At first, I was confused, but thinking back to my Grandpa's advice, I realised what he might have meant - These Flickers didn't belong to the living, but to those who have passed. I'd never seen a soul from someone no longer with us; This was a very new experience.
I pondered why some graves, my Grandpa's included, didn't have Flickers. Perhaps the ones left here have unfinished business? Or, perhaps they just chose to stay, instead of leaving?
Regardless, I felt that these Flickers knew I could sense them. It's like they wanted to show me something, or maybe even needed my help. So, I did what I felt my Grandpa would want me to do.
I walked up to one of them, and it slowed down to a stop. It was like I was staring right at someone.
"Lead the way," I said, "Show me what you need..." | 67 | You were born with the ability to see human souls, glowing like candles even through solid objects. One day, as you're visiting the grave of a late relative, you're suddenly surrounded by dozens of glowing little lights, all beneath the ground. | 175 |
Having partially finished reading the book Ms. Wright, the librarian, had given him yesterday, David dropped down and carefully closed it and carried it to his shelf. He made sure to re-adjust the paper covering as to not crease his new favorite book. "10,000 Facts About Space", arms outstretched he takes one long glance before finally placing it in between the other books.
He then hastily left his room and entered the hallway, flying down the stairs to hurry and tell his parents certain facts he had read that he thought were especially cool. Rounding the railing, he saw them sitting on the couch leaning forward towards the radio.
"Hello mother, father. Did you know that black holes bend space!?"
Both stared at the radio, seemingly unphased by their son's sudden appearance. Seeing this, David stepped in front of the radio. For the past week, David's parents had developed a tendency to zone out when listening the news. Noticing this, David had begun to make himself more noticable in response.
"You promised you'd listen this time, I made sure to remember double the facts since you both pushed me off yesterday."
Exiting their trance, his parents both looked at David and smiled, his father lowering the radio's volume.
David's mother gestured him to sit on her lap. *"Oh Darling, of course, go on and tell us what you learned. After all, you learn something new every-"*
"Did you know that gas giants have a solid center!?"
"Did you know that meteors become really tiny when they enter our atmosphere?"
"Did you know that the approximate time it would take the Sun's light to reach Earth is 8 minutes, that's so fast!"
David's parents both dawn pale frowns.
"....I-I'm boring you aren't I? I-Im sor-"
David's father reassuring places his hand on son's head. **"No, that's not it David ... it's just ... bad timing."**
"Bad ... timing?"
David's mother turned towards his father, *"...we have to tell him tonight Charles. We can't keep him in the dark for much longer."*
**"I know dear. David, go grab me a drink from the fridge. There is something you should hear.**
Quick as night, David ran to the fridge and grabbed a pouch for his father. "Straw!?", David yelled from the kitchen? **"No, now hurry back son."**
David returned, handing his father the beverage. His father was careful not to spill a drop, which is reasonable considering David overheard them talking about the increased prices due to the shortages.
"Um, father, does it have something to do why you and mother have been in front of the radio all week?"
**"...Yes. We think it's best you hear it for yourself."**
His father turns the radio's volume back up. They were listening to the news broadcast. David quietly sat between his parents, each wrapping one arm around his back. David did not really hear the station say anything interesting enough for him to care about and began getting board.
"Is th-"
*"Shhhh, be patient my child."*
David continued to listen following his mother prompting. It had been a little over half an hour, some problems had been listed but mostly one's he had already known about. Supply shortages, larger solar flare, the Sun's light taking 8 min-
David's face grew paler. √√bzzt, Yes you heard correctly, data from NASA has been confirmed and shows that in 3 days, at 12:00, the star of our solar system will undergo a reignition event and it's light will be bright enough to breach most surfaces and structures, the process of which will wipe out 95% of the Earth's population. It will take 8 minutes for the light to reach our planet ... so it is advised you contact any loved and make peace ... a-and ... that is all for tonights ... broadcast, bzzzt√√
2 hours, 12 minutes. That is how long David spent crying. His parents embracing him until he finally calmed down enough.
"S-so does that mean we're a-a-all gonna d-"
**"Shush now, it is getting early. Go brush your fangs and get some sleep, we have a long night tomorrow."**
*"And be sure to feed William, we were out for most of yesterday. I don't think he has eaten since we came back."*
David somberly grabbed a pouch from the fridge and headed outside. Through the doorless doorway he was greeted by two red eyes. Placing the pouch into their pet's bowl, a poodle appeared in the blink of an eye to drain it dry.
"Goodnight William ... heh, or I guess I should start saying good morning?"
After brushing his fangs, David went to his parents room.
"Can I sleep with you both this dusk ... and tomorrow ... an-?"
*"Come David,"* his mother gesturing him over. His Father merely does a single nod and opens his cape to show David the free space inside. David joins them on the ceiling, all 3 of them slumber tightly snuggled together wanting as much comfort from each other as their remaining time will allow. In 3 days 95% of the planet will die a second time. Gray snow will greet those that remain.
^(hopefully edited out most of the errors) | 44 | Did you know that the light from the sun takes 8 minutes to reach us? Having just discovered this fun fact, you run downstairs to tell your parents, only to see the newsman saying the same thing in a worried tone. Why's everyone so nervous? | 74 |
\[Sewing Destruction\]
"Alright, you can do this...," Otis sighed to himself when he spotted the pair of teenage girls. He had his hands full shearing sheep in the barn when two girls stepped on his property and headed towards him. They didn't wear the usual armor and weapons of the other adventurers. But, experience taught him that there was only one reason strangers stopped by. The girl with short dark hair was dressed stylishly with a pair of dark slacks, a white dress shirt and a black and white vest. Her friend with long silver hair wore a simple t-shirt and jeans; the only thing that stood out about her was a silver box strapped to her left wrist. In the back of his mind, he hoped that they weren't there to improve the farm again. Even if they were just girls, he'd always had trouble pushing back against whatever the adventurers wanted. But, this time, his marriage was on the line.
Otis went about his business and ignored the teens until they talked to him. It didn't take long for them to find him in the barn.
"Hi," the silver-haired girl waved as both smiled at the old farmer. "I'm Emily, and this is my friend Vivi," she said. Otis relaxed a bit; none of the other adventurers ever bothered with introductions. They simply showed up and began doing as they pleased.
"Otis," he gave his name with a nod, then let the shorn sheep go out and join the others while he began collecting the wool. "Something I can do for you?" he asked.
"I'm on a quest," Vivi nodded. "I need-," Otis interrupted with a shake of his head and a firm voice.
"No ma'am," he said. He was proud of himself for getting the words out; he'd never been able to before. But, this time he felt different. He loved his wife too much and if he let any more adventurers grow his farm again she was going to leave him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are you the wrong one?" Vivi asked. The teen flicked her wrist upward at her waist and began touching some invisible surface that her gaze was intently focused on. Otis wasn't going to let her pantomime distract him. He turned and focused on Emily.
"Look, every month or so we get adventurers like you determined to make my farm bigger. I'm not saying I didn't appreciate it at first; but, enough is enough. If we get any bigger, the dark lord in the fortress next door is going to start feeling threatened. And if he's feeling threatened my wife won't feel safe. So, do my marriage a favor and take your quests elsewhere," he said. After a moment, he added, "Please."
"No, you're the right one," Vivi said. "I'm on a quest; but, I'm not here to grow your farm!" she hurried out the words before he interrupted her again. Otis wasn't expecting that.
"Then, what?" he asked. Vivi pointed at the bag of wool at his feet.
"I'm a tailor," she said. "I just need some of your wool to move on to the next step of the quest. It's somewhere else," she said. "I'll pay for it."
"Well...," Otis considered it for a moment as he sized up the two girls. They seemed friendly enough and he didn't think they were lying. "...and my farm isn't going to get any bigger if I sell it to you?" he asked.
"No," Vivi shook her head. "Your farm is already leveled up all the way. It's as big as it's going to get," she said.
"Really?" Otis relaxed considerably. "So, no more adventurers coming through? That's great!" he grinned.
"What's your favorite number?" Emily asked Otis. He shrugged.
"Can't say I've given it much thought," he said. Both girls looked at each other and nodded. Then, they turned back to Otis.
"You're still going to get adventurers," Emily said.
"I'm here now," Vivi added with a friendly half-wave.
"Now that your farm can't get any bigger until it's destroyed, they'll be on different quests; like buying your goods," Emily said.
"Oh. Well, I guess I don't mind that too much," Otis said. He handed Vivi the bag of wool and she gave him a small golden cube. He didn't know what it was, nor what it was worth; but, he was confident it was an appropriate amount.
"Much appreciated," Otis said. The girls turned to walk out of the barn and he heard the last bits of their conversation as they left.
"Portal?" Emily asked Vivi. She shook her head.
"No point," Vivi said as she opened the bag and reached inside. "The dark lord lives right next door. If we walk, I can finish making his magic robe by the time we get there."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1751 in a row. (Story #305 in year five.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on August 22nd and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until May 26th. They are all collected in order at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/wtglls/tokuhigh_alternet_class/). | 399 | You’ve been a proud farm-owner for 40 years. However, hordes of migrating adventurers visit each year, insisting on completely renovating your farm and muttering about “quests” and “hidden achievements”. Your farm is now bigger than the nearest fortress. Your wife is concerned. | 1,556 |
"Penicillin."
We both whisper it at the same time. Both flinch when we hear the word come out of each other's mouths. He sounds like me. Or I sound like him. No! *He* sounds like *me*, I decide. *I* was standing on the origin point, which means *I* was here first. *He* is a copy of *me*.
I don't even know why I care so much. It doesn't matter if I'm the original. That fact gives me very little comfort as I stand facing a man who is my double, from his face, to his stance, to his memories. Like two animals working through flight or fight we stare at each other too afraid, too unsure to do anything else.
"Penicillin?"
Judy, my assistant, softly speaks up. Her eyes dart between us both as if she can hardly believe what she's seeing. "What does that mean?"
I open my mouth but he responds first, still staring me down. "Alexander Fleming. Was studying the flu virus, got careless in the lab before vacation. Came back found a mold growing in his culture plate."
"That mold is now the most widely used antibiotic in the entire world. Penicillin," I finished, suddenly finding my voice again. I curiously tilted my head and stamped down a chuckle when I saw my doppelganger do the same. "A discovery that changed the course of humanity.... a complete accident."
Judy breathlessly huffed, readjusting her glasses in awe. "So you're saying..."
"That by trying to build the world's first teleportation device I accidentally created it's first instant cloning machine?" I nodded, fervently. "Yes Judy, that is what I'm saying." | 178 | Building a working teleport has been your life's work. Today you finally tested it for the first time. It didn't work, standing on the pad with just a couple of support staff you're devastated. Meanwhile in the next room your team is celebrating with you as you step off the landing pad... | 346 |
Jorge had been studying ancient Egyptians for years through artifacts and documents, but this was the first time he'd gotten to visit the pyramids as they were meant to be seen, in-person and at the height of the day.
They were breathtaking, shining brightly reflected sunlight on both visible sides. Jorge took a ridiculous amount of photos on the wait to get in.
Finally, his group was called to enter the pyramids for their tour, where the guide instructed the group to pocket their cameras before entering.
The trip was exhilarating, true history here in his face like he's never experienced, but quite dark. All too soon the tour was coming to a close. There was a ladder to head up that lead to the exit. Jorge was the last, he didn't want to leave.
As he was about to mount the ladder, he noticed by his feet, a small scraping on the wall in a script he couldn't recognize, but he seemed to instinively know.
"De--shret--djed" Jorge whispered.
Suddenly the ladder fell away from his hands, and Jorge was falling through a cool breeze. Deep in the darkness, Jorge's falling seemed to stop. He saw nothing all around him, save for a small ball of light far ahead.
"Hello?"
No answer, but he could talk, hear, and breathe. Was he dead?
Jorge called out several more times, and began to panic!
"Where am I? What's that light? Let me out!"
Amidst the panic, Jorge noticed another small light nearer to him. It illuminated a wall he recognized, it was the wall with the writing on it.
"Deshret Djed?" No sooner did he close his lips than the lighted wall disappeared and the light in the distance grew slowly from the size of the moon in a pitch black night sky, to a size greater than Jorge could express. It filled his vision and seemed to wrap around him, like light wrapping around a black hole.
"SPEAK A CLEAR PRAYER, AND IT SHALL BE ANSWERED, JORGE" commanded a voice in that strange language that Jorge had no idea how he understood.
"Let me go! I want to go home!"
"REQUEST ACCEPTED"
And *poof* like that, Jorge opened his eye and found himself in his home, sitting at his desk over his research papers.
Jorge thought he must have been dreaming, so he grabbed a shower. Afterwards he grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed his coworker.
"Jorge! How's it going? How are the pyramids, are you taking lots of photos?"
Jorge slammed the phone shut. It was happening. He had spoken some command phrase, and something answered. Something that could transport him instantly across the globe.
He didn't have any of his documents from his suitcase, nor the store of cash hidden in a secret compartment in case of emergencies.
He wondered if he could say the phrase again and ask to be brought back to get his things...
"Deshret Djed!"
And the darkness enveloped him once more.
After the brief exchange, he was back in his hotel in Egypt.
"I think I could get used to this..."
- To be continued? | 34 | It turns out there is a God. He functions like an Alexa, and only you figured out the wake word. | 67 |
I clutched the card in my shaking hands. I stared down at the glyphs that comprised the rest of the note. I couldn't believe it; I'd been wondering about my real father since I was a child. But what did this mean? Why had he waited until my seventeenth birthday to contact me? I sat down on my bed as my mind raced. I looked down at the glyphs– it was no language I'd ever laid eyes on. Each glyph was perfectly spaced apart, all the same height and width across the entire page. The precision of it was breathtaking.
"Margaret," came my mother's voice from behind me. I turned to see her standing in my doorway. She was wearing her baby blue bodice with her hunter green skirt; she was about to head to work. Her arms were folded and her foot was tapping in a way that spelled trouble for me. Her beady eyes pierced mine as she allowed the silence to strangle me.
"Yes, mother?"
"Keeping secrets?" she asked. "I've already talked to you about keeping a diary."
"N-no!" I stood up and turned around to face her. "It's my father! He's written me!"
She made a face like she was tired of my nonsense and marched across the room. She snatched the letter from my grasp and looked over it.
"What is *this?*" she asked in an angrier tone than I felt was merited.
"I thought maybe... you had gotten it in the mail and left it on my bed for me." I wrung my hands as she turned it over and inspected the other side briefly.
"No. Your father doesn't even know you exist," she said, tossing the note back on my bed. "And if he did, he'd never reach out to you. He's not that kind of man. No man at all, as a matter of fact," she said as she turned to leave the room.
"W-wait!" I called after her. "If you didn't leave this here," I paused, picking the note up and inspecting it again. "Who did?" I looked up at her.
She glanced back at me and let out an exasperated sigh. "Who knows? Maybe your brothers are messing with you. I'd burn it if I were you. A witch may be trying to lay a curse on you." With that, she left the room.
I thought about it all day long as I did my chores. I cursed my inability to seek higher education; if only I were smarter, I'd know what my father was trying to tell me. I asked my oldest brother, and all he did was shrug. With what little daylight remained after my work was finished, I walked down to the train tracks to ask the Chinese workers if they recognized the glyphs, but they seemed just as miffed as I was.
That night I lit my lamp and sat at my desk. I was convinced now that it was some sort of code that needed to be cracked. I might not have been allowed to seek formal education, but I was still a smart girl. My father must have known so, and only wanted the letter to be read by his daughter. I smiled at the idea of his proud face when I decoded the message. Momma never did like me much. My heart swelled with the idea of moving away from her and my brothers and living with someone who cared about me.
I got to work. I tried reading it upside down, at different angles, from the mirror, and I even held the paper up to the lamp to see if anything appeared from within the paper. I scrutinized the message in every way possible, even going so far as to see if the words written in English were a cipher.
Nothing.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the note. I'd tried just about everything, and I was starting to feel more and more foolish with every passing minute. I wanted it to be a letter from my father so very badly. I felt tears welling up behind my eyes and let out a long annoyed sigh. A source of light caught my attention in my window and I looked up to see the dark clouds moving away from the full moon. The stars sparkled brightly around it, and my lamp began to flicker. Suddenly, the flame within extinguished. The crickets ceased their nocturnal song. Moonlight poured through my window, illuminating the page brighter than I ever imagined it could. Then, slowly but surely, the glyphs began to move around on the page.
I stood from my chair and gasped. The characters were moving around the letter like little ink snakes forming letters that I could read. Slowly the message began to take shape before my very eyes.
C̳͚͇͇o̠̞̠̲͉̩ͅm̤e͍͇͈͇͙̬ ̥̣̖̯̰̤ṯ̟̫̼͕͈̼o̪̘̰̬ ̬̦D͇̖̱͍̮͓͕e̜͍̣͕ḁ͙̫̬̳̬d̗͔m̻a̼n's̳̖̥̖̣̬̜ ͙R̝͍a͓n̮̥̟͕c̙̞̤h̺̗̖͕̭̯ ̳̞a̺̪t̼̥̙̹̦ ̘̙͇̠n̞̥̦i͈͕̞̱͈gh̺̳̫̺̘t.̗̘͖̯̟̹͈ ̭͕̪W̯̞͕͚͎ḙ̦̦̜̳̰̹ ̞͖͎̫̬̘n͕͈̼̤̭̣e̖̬̜e͍̠̣̲͙d t̠͔͖͓o̗͖͉̹ͅ ̝͈̯͈̼s̥p̬̘͚͎̙e͍͎̳a͖͉̠k̪̝.̩̺̭̜ ̗̙͇C̣̰̙͉̠ͅo̝͔m͉ẹ̮̮͉̩͖ ̘͎̟̝̞̫̰a̠̼l͙o͉̬̬̠n͎̞e͚.͇̤
​
The hairs on my arms stood on end. A chill ran through my entire body as the moon moved behind the clouds and the flame in the lamp roared back to life. I stared down at the page in disbelief as the characters returned to unintelligible glyphs. The crickets resumed chirping and I breathed in sharply. It occurred to me that I had stopped breathing, but I couldn't remember when. I wasted no time. I gathered some supplies in a backpack and quietly left the house.
I didn't care that the meeting place was an abandoned farmhouse.
It didn't bother me to go alone.
And it wasn't a problem that it was the middle of the night.
What unsettled me though, was that all the animals on our ranch had gathered at the fence to watch me leave. Their heads turned slowly as they tracked me down the driveway. I swallowed hard, pulled my hood over my head, and picked up my pace.
*I'm coming, dad.*
r/A15MinuteMythos
part 2 incoming | 131 | You've always been your mother's least favourite child, you figured it was because you and your siblings didn't share the same father. On your 17th birthday you find a card in your room, "Happy birthday! -Love, dad", the only problem being that it's written in glyphs and what appers to be blood. | 569 |
"And in case you missed it, just last night, November 1st, exactly 23:34—that's 11:34 at night for us civilians—the Metahuman Registration Act has been officially approved and passed."
—Was what made me spit out my coffee, at 7:16 in the morning. Call me an old soul, but I read newspapers as a young guy. But the surprise caused that thing to crinkle and tear in my hands like wet tissue paper. A quicksilver flash of my memories reminded me of stirring slightly some time last night because of constant vibrations. My phone was going off, and I saw it was my girlfriend calling me, with at least fifty messages left. This was typical of her, since I always missed calls even if I was right next to my phone, she was, a night owl, a gamer, hyper, my girlfriend, and my teammate, so excessive spamming is expected. I fell back asleep and promised to geek out with her in the morning.
Guess she *wasn't* calling about kicking Xeno'jiva's ass for the hundredth time.
After cleaning up my minor mess, I readied myself with lightning speed and pulled up a call on my phone, all in a second. A trail of static coursed passed my coattails and off of my boots as I stepped out of the door. No sooner than it closed behind me, the phone clicked, and I crashed into the very person I tried to call. Trust me, that hurt me more than it hurt her, even if I had to catch her.
"Yumi, did you see the—"
"EVERYONE saw it!" Guess I'm late to the party as always...
I helped steady her and put my hand to the small girl's shoulders. I was surprised, but clearly she was frantic. As a fellow gamer and comic fan, I knew exactly why. As such, I needed to calm her down before I could gather my thoughts.
"If it does, I'm on your side." I cut her worries off preemptively, then issued a command. "La Chouchoute and everyone else should be at HFH-HQ. Go there and try to calm down." Hero For Hire Headquarters. The third H is added by stuttering the second H, but not fully saying it. Yours truly came up with tha—getting off track, sorry.
Yumi gives me a quick nod, and I let go of her as her worry seems to fade slightly.
"Be careful, V." With that, she turned and jumped, slightly cracking the concrete beneath her before flying fast out of sight.
No matter how much I want to comfort her myself, I need to gather my own thoughts. I placate myself with knowing how much of a mother La Chouchoute—Cécile Monét to family and close friends—has been to Yumi and I individually, and how much more she could help than I.
A sigh passes my lips as I pick a direction and start walking.
They'd been debating about that Registration Act for a year now, been thinking about it ever since the first Metahuman was recorded. I suppose I could fairly see each side of this little deal.
Registering oneself as a Metahuman would hold one more accountable, especially with the collateral damage some "heroes" cause. It would also make it easier to keep track of them, as it would become common knowledge. That came with the small problem of having to expose oneself as a Metahuman. In case it wasn't obvious, secret identities are in place for a reason. If, say, a famous yet disguised hero revealed their real name and details, fans would flood them before the hour was over.
Now, I wasn't quite sure how to feel about this. Personally, I don't wear a disguise. An issue of my power affects my hair and eyes, and I refuse to wear a wig or contacts, so I just deal with the consequences. But naturally, I knew people who kept hidden for a reason. Friends I've taken real beatings for to keep them hidden from even their families. Outing themselves as a Metahuman would mean many families could be broken apart, friendships ended. At the same time, I've met some real scumbags who call themselves heroes, getting away with anything because they saved a life or two. Or "heroes" that decide when the uniform is off, suddenly, they forget they even had powers, then let an entire goddamned restaurant burn down, YOU PIECE OF—
...Sorry. That being said, I have reasons to buy into both sides, but I 'm not personally affected by either choice. But I saw this from the exact same perspective that poor Yumi had. We had seen what this does. I causes a war between good friends. Fellow heroes that would normally work well together, if a little conflicting, hold separate views on Registering. Now? We get conflict. Those who do not register will be detained and taken into custody. Whom shall they task to recover them? Those who registered.
It couldn't be prevented, it was inevitable. Not a question of if, but when. So my words of comfort to Yumi were not to doubt the possibility. My words were to comfort her that even if our friends turn against us for our own choice, I'll stand by her.
I've been walking and thinking for a while. I seem to have made it to HFH-HQ, the office building looking completely ordinary. When you really think about it, a base has no real need to be all high tech like those lame "SuperBrain" guys have. We can all open doors, jump out of windows... Those high tech places usually don't even have windows, then you need to break through a wall and then the owner gets mad.
I digress, sighing yet again. I guess today is when everything changes. I'm sure there will be a deadline, but I was already prepared for the end of any camaraderie. I feel like this is the end of a lot. Even though I felt somewhat convinced Yumi—and by extension, myself—would back up La ChouChoute, since she needs to remain disguised. But then, if Yumi pulls a curve ball an side for Registering... Well, I told her I was with her.
I take a breath.
"Guess it can't be as easy as just telling everyone in a press conference." Chuckling, I set my gaze onto the door. "Here goes... probably everything."
***And with that, I ripped the door off of it's hinges to warm any and all watching...***
***Whatever side I choose...***
***Is the smart choice to side with.*** | 10 | The Metahuman Registration Act has just passed. As one, you're not sure how you feel about it. | 28 |
You get to have a lot of different experiences as a god, what with the immortality and all. The phrase "a lifetime of experience" takes on a whole new meaning for someone whose lifetime doesn't end. I suppose I've probably had a few hundred mortal lifespans to do what every young adventurous godling loves to do. You know, the usual: see the world, meet new and interesting people.
Have sex with them.
Like I said, the usual.
See, the thing about unlimited experiences is that they get samey after a while. You can only bring a woman to her third climax of the night while floating gently together in the Eye of the Cosmos so many times before it gets old. So yes, maybe I got a little inventive. The swan thing came during my animal phase, along with the bull and the stallion and, on one memorable occasion, the 8-foot tall badger. The golden shower thing was wildly mistranslated and I'd rather not talk about it, thank you.
Yes, I've had a lot of experiences in my millennia, but this "consequences of my actions" thing is going to be a new one. Always struck me as more of a mortal thing, but here we are.
And so that's why I've got four probably mortals climbing my mountain with vague intentions of violence. What I'm still trying to work out is Why.
Okay, so maybe I don't have to think too hard about the first one. King Arkantos, ruler of some modestly powerful city-state or another. Big man. Strong man. Absolutely jaw-dropping queen. I'm talking second Trojan war levels of beauty here, kids, this lady has it all. Loyal too. Might have been a dick move to come to her disguised as her husband, but again, consequences are usually such an "other people" thing. Normally if the husband finds out, the wife gets shorter by a head and I never have to worry about it. Oh don't give me that look, I always pull some strings with Hades to get them a nice apartment in Elysium. Practically paradise. Arkantos though, rare breed. Most kings take their revenge on their queen, since the gods are normally a bit out of reach. This one's got gumption, drive, and a magic sword that little shit Daedalus crammed as full of his mortal nonsense as he could. Now, I'm pretty sure it can't kill me, but ol' Arky doesn't know that and he's gonna give it his best shot.
Then there's number two and three, Vallius and Thellonia. Son and mother. My son, specifically. In one of my attempts to mix things up, and what I'm now sure was a fit of madness, I decided to stick around after blowing a pretty young lady's mind and marriage prospects. Started off pretty well. Thell knew I was a god of some variety, so I didnt even have to deal with the normal "you need to work and support our family" crap that mortal husbands get thrown at them. Just me, Thell, and our boy.
I swear to me, I don't know how you mortals do it. Parenting is bullshit. First the little bastards do nothing but scream, cry, and shit, then it's a few years of "me me me mine mine mine." Years 6 to 12 were, honestly, quite nice. The idolization of a child just hits different than run-of-the-mill worship. More personal, you know? Then puberty hit and that went right out the window. Teenagers are demons escaped from the deepest pits of Tartarus and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.
So yeah, I left. Went out for a cup of wine and never looked back. Vallius was a strong lad, far stronger than any mortal had right to be. Not as strong as Heracles, mind you, but who is? He could take care of his mother. Plus I was pretty sure she could find another husband, aging hadn't been *that* unkind to her. But apparently they both also took exception to my behavior, and after a visit to that bastard traitor Apollo and his Oracle, knew right where to find me. Found Arkantos too, who made real nice once he realized that my boy wanted to kick my ass as hard as he did.
Then there's number four. Olga.
I will be honest with you. That old woman scares the shit out of me. She's been climbing this mountain for weeks and hasn't gotten winded once. I can't get a lightning bolt within half a mile of her, and I've tried. She barely talks to the others, and the only reason she gives for joining them is "settling a long score."
Plus she's been at least three different heights since they started the trip from Delphi. I've checked.
Every divine ward, every godly protection and defense, every monster repurposed for guard duty has barely slowed them down. They're only a few days away now.
Maybe it's time for a vacation. A long vacation. AllI have to do is wait, what, a hundred years, and this whole thing should sort itself out. I hear Mesoamerican is nice this time of year, and Chaac owes me a favor for covering hurricane duty a few centuries back. Yeah. Yeah, Argentina sounds nice. | 63 | A group of people are on their way to Olympus to beat up Zeus. One is a husband who's wife cheated on him with Zeus disguised as him, another is a demigod who was abandoned by Zeus, another is the mother of said demigod and the last is a seamstress that I'm pretty sure is Hera in disguise. | 301 |
“It was of course the preemptive nuclear strike that saved our home from total annihilation in the end” I continued. “The quick judgment of revered men whose actions saved us from the unthinkable all those years ago during the Encounter.”
I paused, reflecting on the faces that now stared up at me in anticipation as I spoke from the podium. Faces full of hope, of courage, and of determination. A far cry from the all too common looks of despair in my youth.
Of course, the despair was warranted. Billions had still died despite the preemptive strike. Earth was on its last leg suffering from The Great Famine and generations had been wiped out. But now, to these recent graduates, those memories were nothing but a history lesson they learned through the pages of a highschool textbook. My generation was focused on one thing alone, and that was survival. The generation after was determined to rebuild. And this generation? Revenge.
“But no longer can we rely on the element of surprise to secure our peoples’ future. We now rely on the men and women in uniform, such as yourselves, to keep our planet safe. When the gates reopen, and when they come for us, they will expect a world of broken and hopeless people. They will instead find a world of united and optimistic people, ready to defend to the last man.”
I paused and once again looked at the confident faces beaming towards me. “Officers, recent graduates of the Paris War College, and distinguished guests, I as your Grand Marshal stand here before you today exactly one century after the Encounter to christen the thousandth Ironclad of our fleet, the Antebellum. May you all guide her steadfastly, and defend our home from those who wish to see our history come to a permanent end.”
The applause was deafening as the crowd rose to their feet. I took my bows and walked over to my seat next to the General Secretary of the United Nations of Earth, Li Makensen. She had promoted me to Grand Marshal of Earth nearly 43 years ago to rebuild our world's military, and of course the honor of being the first to tell the Enemy to go back to wherever the hell they came from before we destroy them again. Being in her presence was a great privilege no matter the occasion, but this time felt different. A strange sense of confidence came over me. It was not a sense of confidence in myself per say, but instead a sense of confidence in all things, as if everything was finally right with the world.
I turned my head and studied the Antebellum, a towering achievement that looked down upon the crowd. Three thousand feet long and built from the finest reinforced armor plating humanity has ever achieved. Thirty thousand ballistas in all, each capable of launching an 80 megaton nuclear warhead at a moment's notice. Two hundred fighter bays that could deploy a whole squadron of Caravel fighter ships each with their own nuclear payload. These may all just be numbers to some but to me they are a testament to how far we had come since the Encounter.
For years I had made it my life's mission to get humanity on par with the Enemy's full scale invasion force and today we had surpassed it. By all of our estimates, we had destroyed at least 85% of their entire military during the Encounter, buying us crucial time to rebuild our society from the ground up. They would rebuild too of course, and they would be back with a vengeance, this we all knew. But they will find a much more formidable foe this time around.
I lay in my bed hours later, not worrying about the Enemy for the first time in years. No one knows this about me but I have not had a full night's sleep in my entire life. Not once. Sometimes I just lay there for hours thinking about what was to come. The overwhelming burden of saving your own species is not an easy one to carry. But tonight? I fell asleep like a baby as soon as my head hit the pillow.
“Grand Marshal! Your presence is requested at Central Command immediately!” a voice boomed over the intercom.
I awoke and began to put on my uniform immediately. It is a common occurrence to be awoken to deal with matters of military security, I am awake half the time anyway. Although this time I wished it hadn’t ruined my good night’s sleep. As I began to put on my uniform this time however, two lieutenants barged into my chamber and turned on the lights, blinding me for at least a few seconds. This was not common.
“Apologies, sir but you will have to put your uniform on in transport, there is simply no time. General Secretary’s orders” a young and clearly nervous lieutenant stated.
I accompanied the two officers to the loop where we boarded my personal carriage and took off, the city passing by in seconds. They looked uncomfortable, undoubtedly for waking the most powerful military leader in the world from his sleep and making him walk around the corridors in his underwear, but I was sympathetic to their situation so I was not about to berate them, not yet anyway.
Just as the carriage arrived at central command I had finished buttoning the last part of my uniform. I stepped out into the command room and was met with an odd silence, faces turning towards me in anticipation. Li Makensen approached me as well as a dozen high ranking military officers following behind her.
“It has happened. The Enemy has repaired the wormhole gates. We expect their arrival in 2 minutes. We will place the planet on a state of lockdown imminently and have already scrambled most of the fleet into orbit.”
She paused. “The fate of the world is in your hands Marshal, we are counting on you. I must go now to organize the lockdown.”
As the General Secretary left the room the strangest feeling came over me. I felt calm, collected, confident, like those graduates I had seen just the other day. All this time I expected this moment to be full of self doubt and confusion. But now, at this moment, I knew exactly what to do.
“Make a perimeter around the planet with the main fleet, I want every vessel waiting for my mark to launch if necessary. Put every ground silo on high alert. Have General McKinsey take his squadron to our station on Jupit-”
An ensign interrupted, “Sir! The first ships have gotten through the wormhole and are sending out a communique. Should I play the message?”
“Yes, put them through, let's see what these bastards have to say” I said flatly.
The intercom filled with a low and nasally voice, “This is Admiral Ga’Val of the Debrion Federation speaking. We had sent out a small scouting party to make contact with your planet nearly 100 years ago but they appear to have unfortunately been lost in space. The wormholes to your system had mysteriously collapsed as well so we have been waiting to attempt contact with you ever since. Regardless, we are pleased to make your acquaintance and wish to speak face to face to your species’ representatives. Please let us know if this could be arranged. Thank you.”
I stood there, unable to internalize what I had just heard. My sense of confidence was gone. | 63 | A hundred years ago humanity managed to fight off the alien invaders and sabotage hyperspace travel in a thousand lightyear radius of Earth. The distruption has finally subsided, and we are prepared. | 176 |
Over the years, she had become the biggest, most exotic, most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.
I had it since I was a child, a child who was strangely fond of venomous tarantula-type spiders. A beautiful phoneutria nigriventer with an strange color un the back. A kind of combination between black, red, green and purple that shines with bioluminescence.
She was the prettiest thing my little self had ever seen, and the prettiest thing I will ever see now.
One day, not too long ago, but long enough to be a precious memory,a bomb fell on my city, right in the middle. the rad in the air kill everitigh in a radio of 10 miles. And what didn't die mutated in strange ways.
We were right on the edge of the radius, my parents died that day from radiation, but I somehow managed to survive. Me and my sweet phoneutria.
But she didn't come out of the rad quite right, apparently something in her changed, a gene turned on when it should have stopped. She started to grow and grow more and more until one day it grew to the size of a medium-sized house.
Now we live on the old subway lines, away from civilization and away from the remaining radiation within the cobweb nest of my dear phoneutria. | 53 | You have had a pet tarantula for as long as you can remember. Rosy has always been there. As much as a tarantula can in any case. Nuclear apocalypse and everything mutates, including Rosy. Now 6 feet tall and 15 feet long, you are very glad that you were a good owner. She’s still a sweetheart. | 179 |
Angels walked the Earth when I was a child. Real life Angels, some were people with wings, some were flying mathematical anomalies that you could barely look at without passing out.
I was six, so I don’t remember much, and my account is not my own recollections. I only remember panic and mum not coming home and dad letting me watch as much Peppa Pig as I wanted. The Angels didn’t say a word, they looked at and you felt their meaning. Apparently other people gathered in churches and synagogues and temples and mosques and fields. Where there were large gatherings an Angel would come and most people would vanish. A bright flash, then a thousand people might be gone.
Except, not everyone was gone, there were always a handful here and there. And when people were left over, they had a mark on their forehead. The Angels did not speak, but apparently they wrote. They didn’t come for me and dad, left our house alone.
We are the damned, lingering here, unexalted. When I was 16, dad got sick and the meagre medical care available at that time wasn’t able to treat it, so he died of the same thing that took his grandfather 40-something years earlier.
I lived on in the town we’d moved to after the cities were abandoned. One day, my partner got a call to help out with a translation from a dig site over in what was Turkey. Someone found a scroll in an ornately inscribed jar. There was an old university library a few towns over, so we picked up and moved there and got to work.
That was sixteen years ago. Almost thirty-five years since Rapture. I walked in with lunch to find my partner staring at the papers as usual.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘This old book I found had a partial translation of an early Sumerian text. The writing on the jar looked vaguely like Sumerian, even though it lacked a lot of the typical features. But no one has been able to make anything of it yet. Everyone is looking so intently at the scroll because the fragments looked like the Angels’ Glyph.’
‘But you’re not most people.’
‘I’ve mostly cracked it, I think. The word for sheep and wheat and farm appear here,’ he said, pointing to photos that were old and cracked now. No one had made a new printer for a long time, supplies were scarce on certain things. ‘The term for sheep matches the Akkadian term, which I got from this translation from a Benedictine monk from the low countries in the middle ages who first looked at it. He also had a term for Angel, and had matched it to another language that I don’t know well...’ This went on for some time. Some of it I knew, but a lot went over my head.
The punch line came almost as a by-the-way.’ So this means that The Glyph is actually translated roughly to “shepherd food not”, or “Not shepherd’s food”.’
‘I…what? Maybe the explanation or *how* you got there was a bit circuitous, but I don’t see what this has to do with Angels.’
‘I think there’s a mis-translation in the Monk’s work. He uses “shepherd” in other works and tends to give it divine connotations. As in God being the shepherd of his children. Sure it's different languages, but it holds consistently’
‘So, “Not Angel food” then?’ I was dumbfounded at the path of logic required, but it was all there on the tables we had taken over in the library.
‘Everyone who got it reported seeing a bright flash and then they appeared back where they were, but alone and with a mark on their face.
‘What if the Angels were not benevolent? What if they were shepherds but took care of the people of the world for the same reason any shepherd takes care of their flock, namely: to eat them.’
‘Have you been in here too long?’
‘I think they left us behind to repopulate the world for the next culling.’
‘So, yes then?’
‘You’re not listening to me. I’ve been at this for years, and there isn’t any doubt now. We were the lucky ones, the survivors. Not the damned.’
‘They took the strongest of us. Left hardly any Olympians. Blessings or receiving of sacraments meant nothing to the pattern of who was left. What if there were some they spat out and left for next time?’ | 94 | "Not fit for consumption" | 183 |
I finished my speech, fully prepared for the usual spectacle of protests and outrage. I take no pleasure in those but centuries of analysis and prosperity proved our way as superior and most efficient.
However cruel it is.
I certainly didn’t expect this unusual noise the humans started producing. It took my communications specialist the long Earth minute to identify and then confirm the noise as “cheering”.
Were these humans that distraught by our demands that they went into mass hysteria? No, the specialist confirmed, the reaction appeared to be genuine.
However weird it was.
In the following weeks, I have met with the representatives of the power elite. The world leaders, their richest and most powerful individuals.
Contrary to my expectations, they didn’t beg me to spare their workforce. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“The economy will collapse!” One of them said, his tone identified as ‘condescending’. “If you give everyone homes and healthcare, nobody will want to work! You are just giving everyone a handout!”
There was a lot of the same sentiment from their communication networks. The same demands to be given more work and more scarcity.
Apparently, that is what their previous rulers considered “motivation”.
The lower classes of the population, on the other hand, appeared almost disturbingly cheerful.
Our empire has conquered vast galaxies and countless worlds. And everywhere we went, the lower classes wept with despair over the tyranny we imposed on them. But humans were different.
They met us with praise, warmth and worship. I would have enjoyed it if I were not so busy trying to figure out why.
Eventually, we chose one of them to conduct an interview with. I asked her why they were enjoying our rule.
Her answer was the most shocking.
“Why not?”
“Your planet is currently under occupation by the foreign species,” I said firmly, intending to leave no room for our translators to misinterpret. “You spent one sixth of your day working.”
The young woman looked at me like I was a child. Or a jester. Then she realised I was serious.
“We used to work a third of the day, at the minimum,” she said. I heard it. But I refused to believe it. That was not an efficient use of the daily cycle. “Five or six days a week depending on how anal the management would get with you.”
I checked whether our translators were working right. Eight hours a day at least? That would leave only sixteen hours to maintain the healthy bodily functions. Half of that would go to hibernation alone!
“Even the good jobs don’t really differ much. See, my brother used to work at one of those big hedge funds. Really big money. But there was also the whole thing about showing your face around so he spent almost half a day there.”
Half? Willingly?
“So… since we are talking here, may I ask a question?”
I nodded.
“Why all the perks?” She sounded sincere. “I mean, I am enjoying all the free time and not having to worry that an ambulance ride will bankrupt me but… I think a lot of us are just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I looked at my increasingly frustrated translator. He clarified that she was talking about consequences or, as they said, “catch”.
“There is none.”
“None at all? No eating our young or old?”
“We have developed the sufficiently sustainable food systems. We implement those across all our occupied territories.”
“Solving the world hunger, too, huh?” She smiled. “Okay, so why the free housing and healthcare? There is seven billion of us, after all.”
“We are the efficient species. Providing you with those ensures the longevity of your service for the empire.”
“And you are not going to, I don’t know, harvest us for our organs or something? Right?”
“All due respect but we have evolved far beyond what your bodies could provide us with.”
“Good. Just checking.”
The young woman was soon let go. I stayed in my war room way past the allocated four hours of workday.
We came here as the conquerors.
I never thought we would be this species’ saviours.
EDIT: Woah, that is a lot of praise. Should I write a Part 2? | 4,256 | Aliens take over the Earth. They then announce that they will be forcing the humans to work a "tyrannical" 4 hours a day 4 days a week in exchange for basic rights like housing. Needless to say they are very confused when the humans celebrate their new alien overlords. | 8,517 |
The Great Wound. It was avoided for centuries. Too easy to get sucked in to a black hole. It became a galactic curiosity. Races from all over would come and study it. Outposts sprung up around it, they started as science outposts but became trade ports. It became ‘the’ commerce trading centre.
A brilliant scientist figured out how to skip travel using black holes. Turns out that every black hole has two ends. If you go in one end you can skip to the other end and be across the galaxy or just a parsec over, in almost an instant. Some ends are stable, some change locations, some ends are bigger or smaller than their openings. Skip travel could be unpredictable, could be dangerous but it was a game changer.
Just like that, The Great Wound, became the nexus of the universe. It connected the vast expanses of space to a centre hub and everyone wanted a piece of it. It was a science hub. A trading hub. A diplomatic hub. A travel hub….. but the name stuck, it was The Great Wound.
———————
“Commander, the envoy from the Vahery have arrived for the summit.”, my security officer reported.
“Send a double security team to escort them.”, I commanded. The Vahery were currently in control of the most contested black hole end point in the universe. “Deploy extra security through out the station. I want double coverage. The Alliance rebels could be any where and they would love to take out the Vahery diplomats.”, everyone already knew that, but they could use the reminder. If we get sloppy, diplomats get dead.
The summit started. Everyone wanted access to the endpoint but the Vahery were selling access. Only the highest bidders were allowed through. All others were either blown away or ransom backed to their governments.
There were 50 worlds within 2 parsecs of that end point and all of those worlds wanted it to be free access in and out. With the Vahery having a planet in the same system as the black hole they controlled access to it with an iron fist.
The summit entered the second day when an explosion rocked the station. A bomb blew in the summit room but it was badly timed and only the mediator died. All parties were demanding to keep negotiating and so it fell to me, the commander of the station, to take over as the mediator. Oh joy.
“Commander.”, the security officer snapped to attention, “the room is clear sir. No incidents.”
I had posted around the clock security and room sweeps before and after every meeting. Security was tight before, now it is down right insane.
“Thank you officer. At ease.”, I walked into the room and took my seat at the head of the table. Slowly over the next 20 minutes, diplomats from the 50 aligned works came in and then we all waited.
“This is outrageous, commander. The Vahery is wasting all of our time.”, the Z’ynaic diplomat said through a translator. The harsh clicks and snaps of their language was at odds with the smooth easy voice of the translator.
“Easy there. It is just a negotiation tactic, and if they get you ruffled, then it has worked.”, I slowly looked around the table and let my words sink in, “that said, I am a busy man. I have a station to run.”, that was a total lie. My first officer could run this station better than I could, but I wanted to get us all to be sympathetic with each other. “I will give them 10 more standard units and then we will call it a day.”
As if summoned, the Vahery diplomats chose that moment to show up.
“Sorry we are late. We just wanted to make sure the room wouldn’t blow up….. again.”, the diplomat said smugly. Nice. A dig at me and everyone in the room. They sat down and negotiations started.
They were as exciting as you would think intergalactic negotiation would be. Faked outrage, real outrage, insane offers with equally insane counter offers.
The Vahery had all of the power and they knew it. They were just trying how to milk it for all it is worth.
The Z’ynaic sub diplomat looked at his communicator and whispered something to the head diplomat. Then all of the diplomats started looking at their communicators and whispering.
“Order! Order!”, I said as I pounded a metal sphere, that passed for the galactic equivalent of a gavel, on the table.
“Is everyone too busy to continue with negotiations? Should we adjourn until tomorrow?”, the Vahery diplomat said in a haute tone. He was ignoring his sub diplomat who was frantically trying to get his attention.
“No. I think we will all continue.”, the Z’ynaic diplomat said, “but given the new information I think a shift in negotiations are in order.”, the clicks and snaps gave me nothing in terms of tone and the translator was horrible at giving any sort of cues.
“What new information would that be?”, I asked, “I seem to be out of the loop.”
The atmosphere in the room was almost giddy. The Vahery diplomats were huddled in fevered whispering.
“The end of the black hole has shifted almost a parsec and a half. The Z’ynaic military has now secured the black hole end point.”, the diplomat realized he had the upper hand, “we are willing to let the 50 aligned worlds full free access to the black hole, but the Vahery….. the Vahery will need to negotiate their fee to access the black hole.” | 24 | They call it "The Great Wound" -- an anomalous star system consisting of black holes orbiting black holes, all orbiting another monstrously large black hole. | 71 |
Each step was triumph. Each of the God of Thunders final nine steps a greater victory than any man, god, or anything in between had ever achieved, and his sons counted them as such.
**One** the poison from the mighty beast, slain by Thor himself, had begun to take hold.
**Two** his hair lost some of its golden lust. His grip loosened ever slightly on the hammer.
**Three** veins of green spread to his neck, popping out as if they'd explode.
**Four** his step faltered. Thors step had never faltered. Their *fathers* steps never faltered.
**Five and Six** only lumped into one motion because it was a stumble. A weak, pathetic stumble.
**Seven** the thunder faded from his eyes, and so too did the fighting spirit he once had.
**Eight** the hammer dropped from his grasp and left a neat crater in the frozen earth.
**Nine** Thor dropped in a lifeless heap. The sky parted as if just for him, and a ray of sun all his own shined down upon him.
Magni and Modi were left staring at their fathers body, at the death and destruction around them. Ragnarök had come, and now gone. There was nothing to say, only the sound of the winters wind blowing through the trees. Finally they both came upon the hammer left in the snow, each knowing in the moment what the other was thinking. Magni was the first to speak, the more confident of the two.
"So....who gets it?"
"I dunno. I figured we'd each lug it around for a week, and whoever used it better would keep it. Not like either of us could ever truly wield it anyways."
They both sat in silence, simply staring at the symbol of their fathers ultimate legacy buried in the snow. Mjölnir. A weapon eternal yet useless in the hands of anyone who wasn't Thor. A waste. Magni considered his brothers proposal, well, he mostly considered it idiotic, but he had never backed from a challenge before. Especially not now, in the face of their fathers honor.
"Fine...you first."
Modi did not hesitate to approach. He walked up to the hammer as if it'd jump out to bite him. As if it was some extension of the mighty snake his father had just slain, but it did no such thing. As he placed his hands on the grip he felt nothing. As he bent down, squatting up until his muscles bulged through his clothes he still felt nothing.
Embarrassingly he mumbled, "Ah...just thought I'd check to be sure.", before grabbing it and dragging the hunk of metal behind him.
"Good luck brother! I will await your tales of adventure, I will lay father to rest."
Modi's week with the hammer was...uneventful. Mostly bragging of his ownership of it to anyone who would listen, and considering Ragnarök not many, and one ingenious application of using it to split a mountain in two for no reason but to have something to tell his brother.
Upon passing it to Magni Modi kept his tales to himself as to not give his brother anything to beat. But three days into the week it was apparent that keeping these secrets were unnecessary as Magni also had no idea what to do with the remnant of his father. He mostly tried lifting it, day and night, solely convinced that with enough effort he could show back up at the weeks end wielding the thing rather than dragging it through the snow. But no such luck. No amount of lifting made it any lighter. No amount of training made the hammer more balanced and he wondered how his father made it seem so simple.
After the week the two arrived back where they'd taken it, neither with a story to tell.
"I thought you said you'd lay father to rest?" Modi gestured up to the hill where Thor's body still lay in the same condition they'd left it.
"I tried. The pyre burned, he didn't. I figured here was better.
Modi nodded in agreement before blurting "Alright you win. You can keep the hammer brother. Well fought."
"Ah no! I saw the way you split that mountain in two, well played! You may keep Mjölnir. Do our father proud."
They stared to each other wide eyed, then burst into deep laughter, Magni putting a large hand on his brothers shoulder to steady himself.
"Well, maybe it was only meant to be fathers after all. Let's be sure that it stays that way, huh Modi?"
"Yes. We are not worthy as he had been. No man has been or will be"
They brought the hammer back up to their fathers resting place on the hill, where that beam of light still shined down on him, and placed it by his side. It looked good there. Looked at home, and their father more complete with its presence.
The brothers agreed that it was their fathers to own, and that any man worthy could one day lay stake to its claim, should such a day ever come. | 15 | After Ragnarök, Magni and Modi stand over the hammer of their fallen father. "So... who gets to keep it?" "I dunno. I figured we'd each lug it around for a week, and whoever used it better would keep it." A challenge is issued. | 76 |
I woke up, as most people do, to the ringing of my alarm. I suppressed my instinct to roll over and sleep knowing the few extra minutes wouldn't be worth the cost. Sure enough, I could already hear the scratching at the front door, confirming that my motion sensor alarm had worked correctly.
Groaning, I drag myself out of bed, banishing the lost hope that the motion sensors had seen a cat; it was never a cat, but a guy could dream, at least until the scratching started. The scratching starts the timer and it was never worth the cost to wait. So for the next 23 minutes, I shower, brush my teeth, and dress myself. My second alarm went off 24 minutes after the first, and as always, my bedroom door swings open, a sloth hanging on the handle as 5 more crawl behind. I sigh and crawl out my bedroom window, walking a worn path to lock my front door and hop in my car in my driveway.
A quick drive to the post office and after swapping into my mail van, I drive my lazy mail route around the city. At two points in my route I spot sloths in my rearview mirror, but even at my leisurely delivery pace they never get close enough to bother me.
After a nice day of delivering mail I drove off to a gym on the far side of the city. Between my mail route and the distance to the gym, the sloths would be about 10 hours from my house just as I finished my workout. A nice little system I'd figured out to adapt to the curse. It wasn't always the gym of course, sometimes I hung out with friends, sometimes it was dinner, and the timing was never exact, but it worked and I'd lost 30 pounds.
That was the problem I suppose; I should be furious about the curse, I should be trying to get rid of it, but truthfully, the longer I live with it the more I realize she was right. I had been so lazy before, sleeping in every day, working the bare minimum and my weight was skyrocketing. The curse was rude obviously, imagine a girl breaking up with you AND cursing you at the same time, but in her defense, she had tried a lot to change my laziness. And really, the sloths weren't THAT bad, they'd bite me if they caught me, but have you ever seen a sloth bite something? It's a mild inconvenience at best.
Really though, my life was better since the curse. I wake up early, I'm doing better at work, and I feel great about how I look. Not sure I'm ready to start dating again though, I can't imagine a second curse will work out this well. | 11 | you have been cursed and now you are being chased by an army of sloths. they are barely a threat, but it is really annoying. | 30 |
As the final slash carved a scarlet line through the hero’s arm he was thrown onto his side, cracking the stone tile as he fell. His dagger scraped against the floor as it span, the occasional spark whizzed off as its owner’s will to fight dissipated. With a wheeze, the mop of turquoise hair parted as his gaze studied each of us in turn. Though we had clearly won, my foot were rooted to the floor and the overwhelming urge to retreat pierced through me. My nose curled at the smell of singed velvet, tearing the cloak from my pauldrons the charred material collapsed in a heap. I stomped on the glowing embers for good measure, the radiant heat still tickled my shoulders as the skin bubbled and settled.
Muttering under his breath, the curtains closed on the unnamed hero as he closed two vengeful eyes. Torches flickered, casting great shadows about the hall. Each of us expected the body to glow a deep gold and shatter into fine sand, leaving with it a small pile of our attacker’s personal affects. However, the body continued to lay, unmoving.
Turning on the spot my confused look was mirrored on the face’s of my companions, each had taken at least a step back from the corpse, as if it may rise to haunt us. The polished blacksteel sword in my grip reached out as if of its own accord, the tip gently caressing a limp shoulder. As the body rolled back, the torches flashed in one last effort before extinguishing, plunging the room into darkness.
First, a scream rang out behind me at the sudden change. This was quickly silenced, a searing pain wrenched at my chest, threatening to split me in two. Like scooping out a pumpkin, my soul grasped and latched at the slick inside of the gourd but could not make purchase. I was cast out.
The sensation was similar to falling, but there was no wind rushing that forced me to squint or clouds whizzing by as I soared towards an unfamiliar ground; only the stomach turning drop for hours on end.
I snapped out of the hallucination in an instant. My eyes blinking, the repulsive burning smell was replaced with the mouth-watering aroma of fresh sage-and-sausage. Low crackling from the torches blended with the occasional pops and bangs of fat boiling on the cast iron pan in celebration of a meal well-earned. My cape was returned to its former glory, and the bubbling cursed flame that licked my back had receded.
Before we had time to confirm that each of us had gone through the same experience, slow footsteps echoed from the dim entrance at the other end of the hall. Drawing my sword I extended a hand to help up Heinrich, his dry hand gripped my wrist as he pivoted on his ankles. Weighed down by a majestic set of plate mail, he was unable to travel alone in case he became stranded like a flipped tortoise. Handing him the great shield that rested against a battered wooden stool, we strayed from our campfire and towards the centre of the wide open space.
Footsteps slapped in louder succession. Eventually, the offensive blue of the hero’s hair re-appeared in the space. Numerous gouges and burns had disappeared without trace, the thin leather garb that clung to his slender form immaculate. As he hadn’t entered the room we were unable to launch an attack, it took everything in my power to follow that command.
With flashes of gold fireworks, his helmet and greaves disappeared to be replaced by polished iron alternatives. The knife fell from his hands and dissolved just before hitting the ground, replaced by a scythe that rose from its ashes into his grip. Illuminated by torchlight, the new imposing shadow did something entirely unexpected. He began jumping on the spot, then rolling. Clearly dissatisfied, his armour would then glow and swap once more, only for him to repeat the callisthenics until a smug grin was plastered over his face.
Chanting as he ran, our adversary’s scythe roared with black flame that spat ink-like drops in its wake, charging towards our quaking defence. | 17 | The hero reaches the final level where you guard the entrance to the final boss. You and your comrades somehow fight him off and with his dying breath, he mutters "let's try that again" before everything goes dark. You now find yourself back at the moment when the hero first entered. | 122 |
Carly, the physics instructor cleared her throat. She looked over the room of super powered teenagers, among them were one vampire, and one werewolf. Also a human with alien cyborg implants. She pondered other classes she'd given exams too, most of them were hopeful SEAL Candidates. She glanced at Heather, the one she was worried would actually cheat. Girl could read minds like no one's business and was always grabbing answers from her fellow students. She gave her the 'I'm watching you' eye.
"You have two hours to complete the exam. It will cover everything for the entire semester. I will remind you, the school's honor code explicitly mentions cheating on an exam as an expelling offence. You know what that means, you're kicked out of Aurelius Academy, you do not get a license, you do not past go and if you are powerful enough you go straight to supermax."
Heather shifted uncomfortably in her seat when Carly eyeballed her. Carly continued.
"If you think you'll get away with it, I assure you someone smarter and more powerful then you has already tried and failed. Just because I'm an n-mag human doesn't mean you'll get away with it. And! Just in case you had any bright ideas."
Carly looked at Heather again.
"Ms. Aurelius, your combat instructor, and an active MANA Agent, will be observing with me. Do not test either of our patience. Am I clear?"
The entire class said yes ma'am in unison. They were well used to their instructor's military style of teaching. Carly motioned to the, the young looking combat instructor, who was in actuality a century old vampire.
"Helen if you would please?"
Helen started handing out the exam papers. She got more then a few nervous looks. She had a reputation as a MANA Agent of arresting first and asking questions after she'd finished breaking limbs. Helen paused as she put the exam paper on Heather's desk. She pointed to fingers at her eyes then back at Heather and whispered.
"You've already had two honor code violation warnings from my very lenient sister, I won't let there be a 3rd kid."
Heather blushed deeply and got very interested in the corner of her exam paper. Carly reached for her timer.
"You may start now."
She pressed it on then sat on the desk. Helen leaned on it beside her. Carly gave her a glance and Helen gave a small shrug. | 31 | Inside the examination room are superhumans, monsters and other supernatural beings, with all kind of overpowered abilities except super intelligence. As the supervisor, you're about to teach these new students that ABSOLUTELY no one can and will cheat in the exam, not even with their power. | 98 |
We needed an army. We begged the heavens to send us enough manpower to stop the onslaught of demons. As the gate of the city fell down, the ritual completed, bringing only a single man wearing armor and weapons of unknown origin. The god had abandoned us and where mocking our futile attempt at survival. The high priest even went catatonic when seeing this.
It's been three days since then. The high priest finally wakes up from his delirious state. As his mind clears, he finds himself in his bed at the cathedral. From time to time, a sound of explosion coming from toward the gate resound.
Soon enough one of the sisters come to feed him. As she realize the high priest is back, she call for her superior.
"Tell me Gontrand, what happened? Are we finally in heaven? Is heaven but a reproduction of our world?" he asked to his devout follower.
"This still the mortal realm your highness. The armies of hell are at the gate still. The populace is working day and night to try and rebuild a gate as we speak, tucked safely behind the immortal army." "An immortal army? I remember no such thing. Our army got wiped, and even our plead to the heaven got denied by the denied by the very god we devoted our life to..."
"BLASPHEMY!" yelled Gontrand. While the high priest agreed upon the technicality of such accusation, his word remained true nonetheless. Had Gontrand not lost his faith in these pitiless gods?
"The army sent by the god themselves is fighting at this moment. I understand that his highness is still dizzy, but I plead that you would refrain from such word upon the gods."
"Gontrand my friend, I fear my memory may have been impacted as well. I last remember the god ignoring our pleas of salvation and sending a single man, far from an army to protect us. Did something else happen during these last few days?"
"Nothing of the sort your highness. What you saw is what we received. An immortal army of a single being. Ever since his coming, he has been standing at the gate alone. Tearing the demons apart as we speak. The pile of corpse in front of the gate has reached such height that the demons themselves have to carve a path to reach it.
His weapons and his stamina seems fueled solely by his anger for the unholy beasts. He has been fighting for multiple consecutive days without rest. One of the soldiers even claim hearing a demon crying under his boot. 'The doomslayer' is what the unholy army calls him. That they know of this holy warrior can only mean the gods sent us no more than was necessary."
Hearing this the high priest couldn't help but stand up and look at the window despite his weak condition. A field of corpses, bonfire cremating them filled the plains beyond the gate. The end of the demonic army that extended beyond the horizon was finally in sight.
The high priest prayed once more to the heaven, giving his thanks for the support they had sent their ways. Apologies for his blasphemy and doubt quickly followed suit. Surprising everyone, soon after the end of the war, the high priest handed his resignation. A man of doubt such as himself was unfit to his role as figure of the gods.
The holy warrior was gone. As the demons died, he himself moved toward their lands. His rage unending pushed him toward the savage lands to purge them. At the cathedral, an old acolyte was providing alms to the poor of the city. A few weeks ago, the sisters and priest would have bowed to him. Today he bowed to them for he believed their faith stronger than his.
In his mind, some words of his friend Gontrand still resonated: "The gods sent us no more than was necessary". Yet for some reason, something felt wrong with this. Even the armies of angels from the saint bible were depicting as struggling against the demons even if they always won. Yet this immortal army seemed to revel in the carnage. To him, they hadn't sent no more than necessary. They had sent no less.
And from the heaven, god smiled. For a single measly acolyte seemed to have understood the real situation. while all other thoughtlessly praised their holy name. | 22 | the priests think that their summoning ritual failed when all they got from it was a soldier clad in green armor when they should have gotten an entire army. meanwhile the doomslayer is just wondering how his portal failed. | 59 |
James Donovan sat back in his large leather chair, letting out a deep sigh of contentment as he watched his favourite train, a perfect reproduction of the Royal Scotsman, rolling past the large bay windows. It's rhythmic noise brought a certain tranquility to Mayor Donovan, the sound running like a thread through the majority of his 70 year tenure as mayor of Trainville. He sipped his whiskey and began to reminisce, looking back at the journey of his life, it's unexpected delays, twists and turns, glorious vistas, and the various stops along the way. And soon, his final destination, where this train terminates...
His career began back in 1952, with the school announcing a competition for all the town's children to design a new town flag. Back then the town was known as Rayleigh, and was forgotten by most maps, despite its reasonably high population. The prize for the winning flag was a tour of the Town Hall and being made "Mayor for the Day". He knew now, of course, that "Mayor for the Day" was intended as just a fun performance, like the medieval custom of setting up children as Bishops over Christmas. In fact, it was most likely a publicity stunt by Mayor Simmons, aimed to distract from his many corruption scandals.
James had spent his every waking moment all the next two weeks (and most of his dreaming moments too) thinking about his entry. In the end he'd settled on a profile of a train (with James, it was always going to involve a train) on the left hand side, with its track running through the centre and off to the right, with a blue and yellow background. His mother had assisted with the stitching and choosing the best fabrics, but he cared too much to let anyone else take too large a role. Mayor Simmons was the sole judge.
James won the competition, had his picture taken by the paper, and arrived at the Town Hall the following Monday for his solemn inauguration. His mother made him wear his suit, previously reserved solely for weddings and funerals, which was embarrassingly short at the sleeves. His picture was taken once more for the paper, including a handshake with Mayor Simmons.
The tour came next, but didn't take long - the Town Hall was not big, back then. At the end, he was shown to his new office and welcomed to sit in the large red leather chair behind the mahogany desk. He was surrounded by the mayor, the town Sheriff, the magistrate, the chief vicar for the district, a journalist and the photographer.
"Well," the Sheriff smiled warmly, "What will be your first order of business, Mayor James?" Sheriff Tim was a good man and close family friend.
"We need a full inquiry into bribery allegations against Mayor Simmons." Their jaws all dropped as one. James had heard his parents talking about Mayor Simmons, and taken the words almost verbatim from his father. The silence hung thick as he waited for their response.
"Sorry, you can't request that," Simmons finally answered.
"Well... He is the mayor," Sheriff Tim replied.
"What do you mean he's the mayor?!" Simmons cried.
"We did just swear him in..." the magistrate added. The photographer was clicking his camera furiously, almost blinding Simmons.
"That was just a stunt, you know that!"
"Now, now, Mayor Simmons, we took oaths out there, before the people and before God," the magistrate said, remaining cool and composed, with a slight grin that suppressed a laugh. "And some of us here care for the value of the truth and the law. Mr Mayor," he turned to face James, "we will begin the inquiry right away. And might I suggest you have Mayor, sorry, *Mister*, Simmons taken into custody at once?" James nodded nervously and was about to speak when Simmons cut in once more.
"You've been waiting to turn on me, haven't you?! Conspiring with Phillips and the rest no doubt, and now--"
"Let me stop you right there," the magistrate interrupted. "This is **not** personal. That's the point of the law." Simmons was growing more and more agitated, his face switching between fear and anger and disbelief.
Sheriff Tim looked about him, dazed and confused. He wondered if it might be a joke at his expense, but couldn't make sense of it. The situation *was* a joke, that was clear from the start, making a child the mayor of all the stupid stunts, but it wasn't at his expense, and in any case, the joke had somehow become the reality of the law.
"Mayor Simmons," the sheriff added, "you are, um, well, you are under arrest."
Simmons looked from face to face in disbelief. "Reverend Hammond, surely you won't go along with this conspiracy too?"
"Don't you look at me! We all swore before God, and at your insistence, I might add. My hands are tied!" he declared, throwing his withered hands in the air.
Simmons looked from face to face once more, settling in a look of pure hatred at the new mayor. There was evil in those eyes, and James knew it, even then. The sheriff took a step towards Simmons, and Simmons bolted out the door.
"Well, Mr Mayor," the sheriff began again, smiling with a slight laugh but bracing himself, "and what will be your second order of business?"
-------
The paper the next day had Mayor James, the magistrate and the sheriff across the front page, with the headline, "NEW MAYOR OUSTS CORRUPTION, APPOINTS HIMSELF FOR A FURTHER ONE WEEK TERM AFTER WINNING DRAWING CONTEST". The article on the second page uncovered new plans for ambitious extensions to the towns rail network. | 93 | When you were 12, you won a contest making you mayor for a day. You're first order of business was making yourself mayor forever. In your old age you reflect on the town you helped bring to life. | 206 |
Dear Mr. K
It was an odd job. Usually i would have rejected it, but the prospect was enticing. The pay wasn't a big deal, I had saved up enough money to life in luxury for almost three decades, but it was definetely what caught my eye at first.
The target, posing as a certain Edwin David, certainly appeared to be a human. A boring, average human living in an isolated house on the edge of the woods of some middle-of-nowhere village in rural Italy. I tailed him for a few days and i started to notice more and more odd details about it
1) It didn't have a job. Every day he took a bike toward the nearest train station, locked the bike, walked to the furthest bench and just... Sat there. For 8 hours. Then he got up, unlocked the bike and went home
2) It was wary of liquids, actively avoiding them whenever possible. Over my observation, it dindn't drink, take a bath and whenever it was raining, it covered itself in multiple layers of clothes
3) It did not understand human eating habit, eating oranges, lemons and nuts withour removing the outer shell. Similarly, it ate canned beans without removing them from the can. It seems to be aware of this weakness, and only consumes food at its house
4) It is incapable of moving its shoulder, opting to move the whole torso instead
5) It does not require sleep
6) It does not require heath or light. The house occupied by the creature does not have an active supply of gas, energy or water
Over the course of the past month, I have devised a few simple asssassinations. I did not expect any of them to work, but they provided me with additional information.
1) Added various types of poisonous substances (arsenic, ammonia, belladonna, tetradotoxin and cyanide amongst them), as well as acids and biological samples of various diseases to the creature's food and released toxic fumes (including methane, zyklon B and mustard gas) inside the house. As expected, they had no noticeable effect on the creature
2) Exposed the creature to water by purpusefully crashing into it with an open water bottle. Altough it showed signs of distress and immediately ran home, the cameras showed no obvious physical alterations and its routine was not altered past the splash. Seems like the aversion toward liquids is merely a phobia, or the creature is vulnerable to a specific type of liquid that wasn't present (or was present in too small concentration) in drinkable water. Further test is necessary
3) Animals are afraid of the creature. Rats freed in the house ran away as soon as it returned, and forcefully exposing captured or even wild animals to it seem to always cause the animal to panick and run away
4) The creature doesn't seem bothered by physical trauma. Causing a crash by sabotaging the bike failed to leave a single scratch on the creature even after a very serious accident with a pickup truck
With the following finds i feel like this job may take longer than expected. I still have some avenues available (fire being the first), but finding a way to organically exposing it to fire without a gas line to the house will be difficult.
I will have to further my investigation, but i started to notice it getting a bit more jumpy aver the past three days. I'll have to limit myself to remote control viewing via the many hidden cameras i placed on its daily commute.
I will keep you informed,
A.z.
*Last e-mail sent from Andrew Z.' s computer the day before dissapearing, decrypted* | 45 | You are an elite assassin, able to take down about any target. So it is very baffling when you are hired to take out a complete nobody for triple your usual rate. Your client only explains that they’re not sure what the target is, but that they are only pretending to be human. | 112 |
“Doctor Ware, you’re familiar with Sizer biosculpting?”
Ruth had warned me to expect condescending questions from the political-military types in the room, so I bit back a snarky answer. “Yes, ma’am. My scholarship focuses on the physical properties of Sizer art, and one of my books is a textbook on biosculpting in general.”
“Could we understand it?” another voice asked.
“It’s for advanced undergraduates, so you tell me, Commander,” I said lightly. That got some laughs. Just like a funding committee, I reminded myself. And I wanted this more than I’d wanted any grant in my career. XenoStandCom – *humanity* – was going to arbitrate an interspecies conflict, a conflict over a biosculpture. I wanted to be on the arbitration committee.
"How would you authenticate a biosculpture?"
Another undergraduate question. I put on my professor voice. "Most of the time? Provenance; the chain of authority narrated in the piece's corresponding chromosomal poem. But obviously that's not a possibility with the *Winged Ancestor* in this case; that’s what the whole crisis is about. So I'd use physical means: measurements, irregularities that match mutations in the purported source’s clan-lines, trace elements from the home atmosphere, things like that.”
“Could someone fake those?”
*Someone,* meaning the Kssht, who the Sizers claimed had stolen the it. “Of course. It would be hard to do well. There are indicators we can look for,” I added.
“Could *you* fake it?”
Someone on these committees always has a try-hard question like that. “With the right facilities and equipment, sure.”
“Doctor Ware, you run marathons, right? Would you tell us your last race time?”
I frowned. “I’m not sure if that’s relevant, but an hour fifty-three and forty seconds,” I said. Solid for my age and gene-fix, but nothing spectacular. But I wasn’t going to point that out to them.
“It’s almost relevant.” Now it was Ruth speaking, and she gave me one of her predatory little smiles. “We might need to get out of the Kssht territory in a hurry. We aren’t going to authenticate *Winged Ancestor,* we’re going to steal it.” | 23 | With the appearance of extraterrestrial life, xenology took off. When you picked art history as your focus, you didn’t think you’d find yourself at the center of an interspecies war. | 77 |
Gabe beckoned over to one of the state troopers who were keeping an eye on the growing crowd. “Hey, Corporal Williams,” he said. The night before, Gabe had taken Williams in to cut the line, and Samuel had healed his wife’s chronic migraines; now he looked at him with the bright eyes of a true believer. “I’m going to do something here,” Gabe continued in low voice. “Just- watch my back, okay?”
“Everyone listen up!” Gabe boomed, hands cupped around his mouth. “Samuel needs a rest! We’re going to pause this, just for a few hours!” he added over the angry, frustrated murmurs. “Just sit tight, keep your place in line. Samuel wants to help you all! He really does! But he needs!” Gabe took a breath. “To rest!”
People were yelling now. Gabe craned his head quickly. The crowd was all the way down Maple Avenue, as far as he could tell. There was a helicopter overhead; police, or news, or a rich asshole with a bad liver, Gabe didn’t even know. He pushed through the screen door, into the clammy AC air of Samuel’s stepmom’s house.
“What are you doing?” Samuel asked him. He was sitting on the floral couch under a blanket. His voice was already hoarse.
“How long since you slept, man?”
“Monday,” Samuel said with a rueful smile.
“Nah, remember, that’s when the biker chicks showed up. No offense, Gracie-” he added quickly as one of them came into the room with a fresh French Press. Their club had read about Samuel online and ridden all weekend to come offer themselves as security. To protect the miracle, they’d said.
“You’re right,” Samuel smiled and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “But I can’t just stop. There’s kids with cancer out there. People who are sick. People who’ve got nothing. All they’ve got left is a wish.”
“Are you gonna be any good to them if you pass out?” Gabe picked up the coffee and moved it out of Samuel’s reach. “Are you?”
“You’re right,” Samuel blinked again.
“Four hours. At least,” Gabe insisted. “You rest. We’ve got this for you. Right, Gracie?”
“You’re granting all those people’s wishes,” Gabe added. “What about what you want?”
“What I want?” Samuel gave a hoarse laugh. “Right now I just kinda wish didn’t have this power, you know?”
It took a moment for the words to reach Gabe’s brain, to realize why Gracie’s face was suddenly white.
“Oh no,” Samuel said. “Oh no. Did I-”
“Does it work like that?”
“Quick, someone make a wish.”
And Gabe closed his eyes, and wished harder than he ever had before. | 26 | You have gained the power to grant other people’s wishes. This has ruined your life. | 41 |
“I’m in no position to make a deal like that,” said the first demon that I encountered. “No matter how much I desire your soul.” Five forked tongues emerged like eels from the five mouths above its chin as the demon looked me over.
We were in a dim, damp cavern. A vast rock plinth sat in center of this cave — and on it, something blacker than the darkness. Something that looked organic, like a rotten heart, only it wasn’t beating.
”Then I’ll remain dead,” I said. I didn’t say it sadly nor with anger, just as a statement of fact.
“Deeper,” said one of its mouths, as the tongues in the others retracted.
”You must travel deeper for such a request to be met,” said the next mouth.
“I do not have the power to grant such deals.“
”But others do.“
”If you can reach them,” said the fifth.
The demon pointed to a descending tunnel where shadows rustled like leaves, shadows that morphed on the rock walls into snakes that snapped their black teeth as I walked past. They didn’t scare me, however — how could any danger scare the already dead?
​
The second demon‘s face was familar. An ex-girlfriend, my first love. But then her face warped into a teardrop of skin and fell from the demon’s head. Now the face of my father was uncovered and being worn by the creature. For a while I stared as forgetten memories stirred up in my mind as if by a breeze, memories of a man who had died when I was only six. Of being thrown into the air… caught. Peals of laughter.
My father’s face drooped, fell, splashed on top of the previous face.
And now it wore a teacher’s face — an old English teacher from a class I failed. I’d forgotten all about that.
I took a long breath. What can scare the dead? Perhaps this face-wearing demon was the answer.
”I have come to make a deal,” I said. “For my eternal soul, or whatever else I can offer you.”
“And in return?”
”My life.”
The demon’s eyes widened as it shook its head. “I do not have that power, although I have more power than the upper demons.”
”Are there any that do have such power?”
”Perhaps.”
It pointed down. Its face dripped a final time and I saw my son’s gentle features revealed.
Quickly, my stomach roiling, I walked on.
​
The third and final demon moved as I did. As if there was a dark mirror between us. Its actions repeated my own.
”I was told you could give me my life back,” I said.
The demon mimicked my movements but it said nothing. I watched it smile sadly. It’s — my — face pale and pallid from the months alone in my home.
After my son’s death, my wife and I weren’t able to look at each other. It wasn’t that we blamed each other but that we blamed ourselves. That we couldn’t stand the other to look at us because we could feel the crushing weight of our own culpability — whether deserved or not — in the other’s eyes.
And it wasn’t either of our faults. Not truly. It was our genes that had caused the problem. But how could one blame themselves for their genes?
Yet we did.
I still do.
After my wife left, I found anyone looking at me dredged up the same feelings of guilt and shame. So I stopped letting people see me.
”The other demons,” I said. “They told me you could give me my life back. That I could live again if I made a deal with you.”
The demon was crying now. I felt my own cheeks but there were no tears on them. The demon wasn’t mirroring me, instead it was crying for me.
”Please,” I begged.
I thought of the first demon and the black heart it was protecting. I thought of the second and the faces that dripped down from it.
Then I looked at third, the demon weeping for me, the only one of them who could help me.
“Please,” I said again.
It pointed at its tear-stained cheeks. It sniffed and cried and shook. And there was something so sad and pathetic about the sight that I began to cry too. I was crying for this wretched demon. The first tears I’d cried since my wife had left me.
Tears not just for my son, or my wife, but also for me.
I sat for a long time with the demon as we watched each other cry.
Perhaps I had given it what it had needed, I thought, and in return it was giving something to me.
Eventually, I got to my feet and began the long walk back to the surface. | 1,150 | Your quest was to find a demon willing to accept your deal, none of them said yes. "Primordial demons don't make deals, if you go too deep, just turn back" but you went deeper and deeper, meeting the ancient ones that knew no words. | 2,772 |
It took the world by shock when they first discovered the existence of ghosts. While they couldn’t confirm whether these entities were the souls of humans passed or something else, it was still a major breakthrough.
The discovery gave way to new religions, movements, increased criminal justice and more violence as people began to process the reality of a kind of afterlife.
For the scientific community it gave rise to a large movement of phenomena research. With scientists who were once skeptical becoming more open to just how little we can confidently know.
After much research on the subject it was further discovered that only certain ghosts would be likely able to physically manipulate things. Mainly those who had strong attachments to their former lives. It didn’t matter whether that was due to resentment or passion. How attached they were determined their ability to manifest within our plane of existence.
Most ghosts were non violent and even friendly, but a few were particularly vengeful. Nothing could really stop a vengeful ghost but there were certain things that could slow it down.
All sorts of businesses popped up offering protection against these ghosts, but they just handled the symptoms of a much bigger issue.
Once it was discovered Ghosts were real it became much more common for them to manifest themselves on Earth. It was as though someone flipped a switch and almost everyone who died would show up in some fashion. Scientists theorized it was because there was greater attachment to remaining now they knew they could.
Of course all these discoveries also led to new agencies being formed with the most prominent one being the Before Afterlife Agency or The BAL for short.
One of the most important tasks for the BAL was to help reduce the amount of vengeful ghosts. The BAL would operate by first determining the threat level of a potential vengeful ghost. They would then work to help them solve their unresolved desires and prevent future after life violence.
This didn’t stop every potential vengeful ghost from coming back, but it helped to prevent most ghost related incidents.
Luckily for me the agency wasn’t around when I was alive or I’d probably not have become one of the most effective killers of all time. | 27 | The discovery that vengeful ghosts are created as a result of unfulfilled desires has given rise to the Before-Afterlife Program, a group whose sole purpose is to fulfill someone's greatest desire before their death. No matter what it is. | 186 |
He was a veil of shadows, a vessel of agony, a being comprised of the echoes of forgotten times and of the vestiges of stories untold and ever-lost. He was an Old One, an immemorial creature child of the sound that came with the first light.
And he was my cellmate.
To his perception, I was a counterpoint to his immensity. For I was small and of flesh and bone. At least, those were the thoughts that erupted and died in the chaos of his mind before I spoke.
"Division by zero," I had said, a statement I knew would ripple and rattle even the most hardened core.
My words, as I had expected, sparked raw fear and odd curiosity in him. His towering presence diminished and the incessant hammering emanating out of him ceased.
"How? Prove it," he said and endless tentacles of sheer darkness bloomed out of the stark gray prison walls, each an ear or an eye of the other five beings locked with us but who had chosen to remain beyond the sight.
"What an audience we have gathered." I smiled and gazed at the Old One. "You need to understand, if I prove it once again, nothing of you or any of those listening or this prison will remain. I proved it once, and that took me here."
"Explain it then." A thousand voices screamed out of the walls. "Explain it once, explain it twice, explain it thrice until we understand. Else, perish, weakling."
I yawned and shook my head. "Eternity seems far too large, yet even eternity will not suffice for you to comprehend what's beyond your comprehension. Some things are greater than logic, greater than words, and this I learned from a man named Godel who found such a conclusion thanks to another man named Cantor. Completeness and Incompleteness, a sort of contradiction, both are beautiful things, and they're products of the mind of what you may consider lesser beings. Isn't that curious?"
The Old One grew and the hammering quickened. "They're lesser beings, lesser being. We are higher beings, what they can't comprehend we can. Explain it. Last opportunity."
I frowned. "How curious, I thought you had understood already. It's not me who should fear you, but the other way around." My eyes danced around the room. The hammering stopped. Silence ensued. I sighed. "Higher or lower beings, it doesn't matter. You're all products of the concept that is the universe and the limitations that come with it. Alternative dimensions, alternative universes, it doesn't matter. They're all bound to the same limitations."
"Are you insinuating you're not?" A thousand voices screamed again. This time, there was no tone of demand.
"It's complicated. It's almost a contradiction," I said and my lips curled upward. "Like dividing by zero. It's a contradiction. And if you want to understand my origins and in turn your origins, you have to first understand that you don't understand. Humans were in the right direction when they delved into boolean mathematics. For it's all zeroes and ones all the way down." I scratched my head. "None of you know nor understand this. You are old, too old to comprehend things that differ from chaos, and yet despite your lack of knowledge, there was a visceral reaction when you heard I could divide by zero. But you don't know what that means, mathematics, the language of the universe, you're oblivious to it all. It's almost as though you were programmed to know that such a thing is impossible and that it should evoke terror or awe, or a meld of both if it was ever accomplished. Am I correct?"
A new silence formed. This time, a prolonged one. I clapped, shattering the tension. "I apologize if I was too blunt or harsh, but questions have consequences. I will tell my story, and you won't understand, but at least you will have heard it. Gather up, and keep your quiet. I can sense some of you stirring."
The five beings hiding poured out of the walls, taking deformed human-like shapes, a signal of respect. The Old One remained quiet, listening.
I cleared my throat. "Before the first light, there was I and a single zero. In this state, there were no contradictions." I paused. "Or so I thought. Nothingness, as a concept is beautiful, yet it's incorrect. Nothingness can't ever exist, only be approximated. Zero is the closest thing to it. Zero can't contradict itself. Zero is zero, and even if it was alone, it would be something: a zero. Which is contradictory. The interesting thing is that despite this, zero by itself can't do anything but be zero and despite the contradiction, a zero can't manifest the contradiction, and that causes zero to be too close to Nothingness, and Nothingness, again, can't exist.
"And that's the reason for my existence. I'm a question, I'm the thing capable of understanding zero and asking it: what if you were a one? And that question is enough for the zero to ask itself that question, and in that search for an answer zero collapses, and from its collapse universes emerge. You emerge. And you did so at the beginning when zero was in the zenith of its chaotic search and at that point in time its quest was in such disarray that it created you, beings comprised of more zeros than ones, shapeless and destructive, a reflection, a memory of what the zero was at the moment of your conception.
"But the zero kept moving and in its wake, it now leaves more ones than zeroes. Humans are more ones than zeroes, that's why their comprehension is higher than yours. They're remarkable, but they too will be forgotten, the zero is still searching, and humans haven't found the answer, or perhaps they have and the zero haven't caught up." I stopped to laugh. "One human once told me they were the product of the universe trying to understand itself. And they were somewhat right. Such a gorgeous thought."
I looked around. "Do you understand now when I tell you I can't prove I can divide by zero? There are zeroes surrounding us, comprising us all. And there's me, and I am the question. The initial state of all things is right here. If I ask a zero the question again, we will see a third light. I can make it smaller as I did with the second, but here I don't have a way to contain it. Humans gave me a special box to contain it. It was my gift for their intellectual prowess. Their own universe. One they could study."
"What will happen when the zero turns into a one?" The Old One asked.
I threw my hands in the air. "You didn't understand. I expected that. The zero will never be a one because the zero is a zero. In its search to solve a single contradiction, it yielded endless contradictions, and so there are two paths. Either it continues in an infinite quest attempting to find an answer that can't be found, or a reversion to the initial state. This time, in its frustration, the zero will try to eliminate me. But it can never do that. We are the initial state of all things. And so I will be there, and this whole thing will be repeated. For now, despite the great hint Godel gave the zero with his Incompleteness, it seems it's too stubborn to listen, so it keeps expanding--"
There was a noise like an alarm. A man came out of the wall. He inspected the surroundings and said, "Seems like you have met your new cellmate already. He's dangerous, this one. Don't believe a word he utters. He's a cunning manipulator. His words have turned thriving planets into barren lands. He may be of flesh and bone, but his tongue bears the yoke of many beings."
My cellmates abandoned their human-like shapes and dissolved into their real appearances. The hammering of the Old One turned into an infernal cacophony. The air itself seemed to scramble for a way out.
I raised my hand. "Wait." My cellmates halted. "Before you annihilate me, you should think twice. Would they put a simple manipulator inside the same cell as an Old One? That doesn't make much sense, does it? It's more likely they have lied to our guard here to keep my existence a secret. With that being said, you can erase me and bear the conseque--"
Before I could finish speaking, darkness engulfed me. Searing shadows and piercing agonic screams filled my ears and rattled my bones and in the blink of an eye, I was gone.
A moment later I reappeared back in the cell, my monstrous and treacherous cellmates staring at me in disbelief. I shook my head once again, "I'm the initial state. Didn't you understand that? As long as there's a zero, there will be me. Now, you must pay the price."
And with that came the third light.
\-----
This one was long and convoluted, I apologize. But if you enjoyed it, you can always check /r/AStoryToRuleThemAll. I post what story I write over there--a catalog of sorts.
P.s: if you are a big nerd who enjoys learning about geniuses, I recommend reading/watching something about Godel, Cantor, or Turing! | 536 | You’re suddenly transported to an inter-dimensional prison. An Old One inmate approaches you and tries to assert dominance, listing their achievements and asking what you did in life to deserve being in ‘their block’. “Division by 0,” you answer as their eyes widen and they back away slowly. | 1,092 |
Duncan grabbed at the back of his head as I stared in confusion. Duncan then scowled and said, "Caroline, I told you not to take my other mouth anymore!" I heard a girl laughing from behind me and turned around to see a blonde girl with pink streaks in her hair and a phone bedazzled to Hell and back walking behind us. A black, slightly luminescent arm with a mouth on the palm of its hand stretched out of her back. My first day at Nephilim Academy for the Demonically Attuned was already off to a weird start.
With a smirk, Caroline replied, "I know, and I'm not sorry I wasn't listening." She then had her weird arm lightly slap Duncan. As the hand pulled away to reveal a fanged mouth on the back of his head, Duncan exasperatedly said, "Thank you," and turned his attention back to me. "And that's Caroline. As you can see, she steals people's mouths."
Caroline flashed me a peace sign. "And I'm very good at it. You the new girl?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm Aislinn, but everybody just calls me Lin."
"Pleasure to meet ya, Lin. So, what's your thing?"
"My...thing?"
"You know, your Encounter," Duncan responded. "The thing that happened to you that warranted your enrollment here in the first place. Like me--I got infected with this demonic virus that I got treated, but it left behind the other mouth. So, what happened to you?"
I sighed. "Alright, I was gonna have to explain this at some point. So, my birth mother apparently made some kind of deal with a--"
*THUD!*
I fell to the ground as I collided with another student. As I winced, I looked up to see a girl almost a whole foot taller than me with muscular arms covered in scars scowling at her scattered textbooks. She turned to me in order to threaten me (I assume) only to not say anything as she just stared at me. I gathered up her things and handed them to her as I said, "I'm sorry, I really should have looked where I was going."
The girl blushed bright red before taking her stuff back and awkwardly replying, "Y--yeah, well, don't, uh, don't let it happen again. Got it, shorty?" She then hurried off without another word, making a rather intense effort of not looking back at me. Duncan's mouth was completely agape as Caroline whistled and said, "You just bumped into Rochelle Bravak and *didn't* get your ass beat. What the fuck, girl?"
I sighed. "Yeah, well, she's just the beginning."
"The beginning?"
"Whatever it was that my mom did, it pretty much turned me into a harem anime protagonist." | 11 | "Let me introduce you to the rest of the class. That's Gen, they've got a portal to Hell in their bag. That's James, his best friend is a demon. And Caroline--Caroline's really a very nice girl, a pleasure to have in class, and I HAVE NEVER SAID ANYTHING BAD ABOUT HER EVER!" | 150 |
People we're screaming all around me, the mass of human flesh pressing towards the orbital elevator. "Please please, let me through I have a baby" shouted a woman at my side. I gripped my wife's hand tighter, desperate not to let her go. "Come on" I called above the din, roughly shoving people aside.
A gunshot sounded out, the loud pop briefly silencing the mass of people, screams of desperation suddenly changed to screams of terror. I yanked my wife harder, pulling us through the throng, finally we reached the tall metal fences, soldiers stood, weapons held high facing the crowd.
"I'm Dr Franklin Jeffries" I shouted. "You, corporal, I'm Dr Jeffries, let us in!"
"Dr Jeffries? Jesus sir, you're cutting it fine! Open the gate"
At that, the mass of people pushed forwards, more shots fired out, more screams. "Quickly" I said. My wife's eyes filled with tears, her beautiful stormy grey eyes. "It's guna be ok, we're here" I pulled her through the open gate, soldiers screaming at people around us. The throng held back by the fear of violence. The corporal escorted us up to the elevator, wide automatic doors whooshed open as we rushed to our seats. Finally the doors closed and a disembodied voice called out.
"Departure in t-minus 30 seconds. Please be seated."
My breath hard, I looked at my wife again, she was openly crying now.
"Frank. My god, all those people"
"There's nothing we can do, we have to survive. The human race has to survive."
I stared out the window as the elevator steadily rose from the ground. Thousands of people stared back, their arms raised in pleading terror. Further out the storm billowed, deep black clouds rolling across the landscape, red lightning flashed downwards spearing the earth. Great rents appeared in the ground, swallowing roads and cars. Huge sections of landscape vanished into the splitting earth.
We called them the Red storms, a horrific by product of nanite weather control system. As the climate deteriorated, and areas of Europe and America were swallowed by the oceans, we developed the NWS, and launched swarms of the tiny robots into the atmosphere. A gentle electrical charge here and there created beautiful sunshine or devastating storms. And for a while things became calm, humanity started repairing the damage, but the nanites evolved.
The orbital elevator came to a gentle halt at Obama station, gravity had left us behind as much as we'd left everyone down there. Our group was ushered out of the doors, through a long corridor and into a huge bay. The calm was disorientating. A man beckoned me.
"Dr Jeffries, this way please"
I gripped my wife's hand, a gentle reassurance, and we awkwardly pulled ourselves towards him, grabbing lengths of cord hanging from what I imagined to be the floor. The man smiled.
"Good to see you Frank. Let's get you and Mary to your pods"
"Thanks Steve, good to see you too."
He led us out of the huge bay and into humanities greatest work. A huge arc ship called the Demetrius. We wound our way through the connecting corridors, down into the belly of the massive ship. Rows upon rows of suspension pods greeted us, most humming with power, the sleeping forms of humanities last hope. We finally came to two open pods, our names etched in large black letters across the side. We stripped off as Steve pulled out white overalls from under the pods.
"Put these on, and get in. Quickly now, yours was the last group to come up from the surface. That Red storm was a douzy. The elevator collapsed."
"What?" Said Mary. "Oh god I can't believe this" she reached for me, her bloodshot eyes brimming with tears again.
"I know, I know" I said. We held each other until Steve interrupted
"Guys, please. We have to launch. Get in the pods ok."
"Ok, sure" we both said. I ushered Mary into the pod, kissing her as the doors closed. Gas filled the inside and she was still. I quickly hopped into my own pod.
"See you on the other side Steve"
"See you there Frank"
The pod closed over me, the air chilled as the gas filled the space around me. I closed my eyes and let the long sleep take me.
My eyes flickered open, I felt groggy. Slowly I raised myself up and glanced around, blinking crystals out of my eyelashes. The chill made me shiver. All around me closed pods blinked blue light into the gloom. A woman with dark hair in a black bridge uniform stood above me.
"Welcome back Dr Jeffries. Here, drink this."
I took the proffered cup and quickly drained the deep blue liquid, the warmth filled me and immediately I felt more awake. I stretched.
"Commander Neilson, how long has it been? And why is no one else awake?"
She looked at me gravely. "There's a situation. We need your expertise."
I got out of the pod and gingerly put new clothes on. Evidently the centrifuge was spun up, my feet stuck firmly to the deck beneath me. As I followed her out of the pod bay, through corridors of dim white illumination, she filled me in.
"We arrived at the Narrav system about a week ago. The ships AI woke the bridge crew, and at first we didn't see it, but as we came closer to the inner system, scans picked up some strange readings. There are structures here doctor, huge structures. And they look man made."
I stopped dead. "What? Hold up. How long were we in transit?"
She looked down, then faced me. "About 20,000 years. Give or take. The ships systems are on minimal power, a meteor strike took out a large section of pod bay 5. A thousand souls were lost. We need to get planet side, but Dr Jeffries...well you need to see it."
We arrived at the bridge. The viewing screen showed an image of a huge cylindrical structure sat in orbit of a green and blue world. It was like a third moon.
"Welcome to Narrav 4 doctor. I'm Captain Anderson. Looks like your zenology work is going to be useful after all."
As the ship closed in on the planet, the image became clearer. The beautiful earth like world held relics of cities, crumbled and old. Everything had a familiar edge to it. More advanced but, recognisable.
"Captain, there's a faint signal coming from the structure. Patching it through now."
Over the comms, static interspersed with voice played out.
"Sir, it's in English."
A voice called out. "For those who find what remains. We, were the human race. And this is our story....... | 14 | After crossing thousands of lightyears in a colony ship you awaken to find that not only had humanity invented FTL and arrived at your destination first, but their galactic civilization fell to ruin and extinction a long, long, long time ago. | 28 |
"Grandma, grandma!"
Cornelia sighed, raised her eyes from the yellowed pages of *Celia Maledictus*, and directed her best glare at her daughter's spawnling. The brat only grinned. Blonde and pink-cheeked from running around the house, he did not seem afraid of her in the least. Must be some flaw of the mind he inherited from his father.
"No," she said firmly.
"But grandma," the brat protested, "I haven't even said anything!"
"I don't need to hear it. No, I won't play 'Lego' with you. No, I won't read you a story—if you're not capable of reading by yourself at that age, I'd wonder whether you're my daughter's blood at all. And I certainly don't want to see your inept drawings."
She returned her attention to the book, yet the brat wasn't deterred. Scurrying up to the couch, he climbed onto the armrest and squinted at the pages of *Celia Maledictus*. His gaze slid over the writing and landed on a sketch of a cauldron surrounded by three practitioners.
"Is this a cookbook?"
"Nothing as mundane as that," Cornelia scoffed, incensed. "It is a treatise on the Craft which your mother would've learned had she not run off and shackled herself to a *man*."
A frown knitted the brat's forehead as the concepts proved too complicated for his inferior mind. To think her wayward daughter had turned her back on the Craft for *this*.
"Grandma, I want cookies," he said out of nowhere.
She sent him an incredulous look. "Well, *I* want to be left alone, yet here we are."
The brat pouted. "Josh's grandmother always makes cookies when I come over."
"Then perhaps you can visit her and stop pestering me," she retorted.
"Don't you know how to make them?"
She froze, then slowly turned toward him. "Are you implying that I, Cornelia the Terrible, First of the Penburn Circle, don't know how to bake cookies?"
"Well?" he said with a note of challenge. "Do you?"
"Do I? *Do I*?" With a groan and a creak of her knees, she rose to her feet. "You little rascal, just you wait! I'll make cookies so delicious you'll keep eating them until your stomach bursts!"
The insolent child cheered and scampered to the kitchen. Cornelia shook her head as she followed, leaning heavily on her cane. The nerve! She had been baking things that would make his hair curl before he was but a twinkle in his nitwit father's eye!
She tried to recall a good recipe as she entered the kitchen. A love potion or a curse she could whip up with her eyes closed. Cookies, however...
The brat looked up at her, bouncing on his feet in excitement. Well, no matter. How hard could it be?
"Where's your pantry?" she barked.
"Here, grandma!" The brat pointed at a large overhead cabinet.
Cornelia used her cane to pull open the door and cast a critical eye over the ingredients. "Fetch me the flour, and some sugar, and salt, and cocoa, and a pinch of henbane."
The brat pushed a chair up to the cabinet and obediently retrieved the ingredients. "I think we're out of henbane, grandma," he said, eyeing the pantry shelves with a frown.
Cornelia clicked her tongue. "What is my daughter thinking, not stocking a staple? Never mind, get down before you break your neck and fetch me some butter and eggs."
The brat did as asked. Cornelia started on the dough, grumbling under her breath. In one bowl she combined the dry ingredients, and in another she tossed in the butter and softened it with a murmur. She threw in a handful of sugar and wiggled her gnarled fingers, causing a fork to beat the mixture together.
"Where do you get these eggs?" she asked suspiciously, lifting one to her ear.
"The supermarket," the brat answered.
"Bah! They're not freshly laid, I can tell you that."
She cracked the egg into the bowl with the butter and sugar. The brat stood on his tiptoes, trying to peek over the counter. Cornelia snapped her fingers, causing the fork to cease whisking. Since the brat was there, she might as well put him to work.
"Mix this up," she said, combining the contents of the bowls.
The brat pushed his chair closer so he could reach the counter and started mixing so enthusiastically that he got flour all over his hands. How odd; not a peep of complaint like she expected. She watched him for a spell until he looked at her in question.
"That's quite enough," she said gruffly. "Now where's your oven?"
The brat wiped his nose with the back of his hand and pointed. She shuffled over to the contraption and pulled out a baking sheet.
"Where are the matches?" she grumbled, looking around.
The brat giggled. "You don't need matches, grandma. It's electric."
Cornelia glowered at him until he looked properly chastised. Laying the baking sheet on the counter, she ordered the brat to roll the dough into balls. He did so with great enthusiasm if not much skill.
"Anyone ever tell you you're a lot like your father?" she asked.
The brat beamed. "Yeah, loads!"
"Wasn't exactly a compliment." She waved off his confused look. "Get on with it already."
Once the cookies were formed, the two of them loaded the sheet into the hot oven. The child immediately crouched and pressed his nose to the glass. Cornelia absently waved her cane, causing the dirty bowls to float into the sink, and peered over his shoulder.
The spawnling turned to her seriously. "They don't look right."
Cornelia sniffed, although she privately agreed. "Go wash your hands," she snapped. "They'll turn out fine without you staring at them."
He nodded and bolted out of the kitchen. Cornelia bent over the oven. The cookies weren't rising and looked a sorry sight indeed. Must be the newfangled electric oven; unnatural is what it was.
She looked left, then right. Grinning slyly, she muttered an incantation and gave the oven a *thwack* with her cane for good measure.
It was just in time, because she heard the child's footsteps outside. She shuffled to a chair and settled down to wait.
The entire kitchen gradually filled with a mouthwatering aroma. When Cornelia pulled out the sheet fifteen minutes later, the cookies had well-risen, cracked domes, and the smell was such that an unscrupulous practitioner of the Craft could have used it to lure lost orphans into her hut.
The brat reached up, and she yanked away the sheet.
"You'll burn yourself," she chided.
He swallowed, shifting impatiently on his feet, and Cornelia had to turn away to hide her satisfied smile. Must be getting sentimental in her second century.
"Can I have one now?" he pleaded hardly a minute later. "Oh, can I?"
"Go on," she grumbled. "Just eat slowly."
The brat grabbed a cookie and greedily nibbled on its end. His eyes widened. "Wow! These are way better than Josh's grandma's!"
Cornelia sniffed. "I should think so."
"Thanks so much, grandma!" He ran up and hugged her.
She froze, then slowly hugged him around his little shoulders. "You're welcome, child." Perhaps her grandson had a certain pathetic charm about him after all. | 47 | An ancient and powerful witch is asked to watch over her grandson while the kid's parents are on vacation for a week. | 99 |
This is a follow up to my earlier post in the prompt: ["[WP] Your quest was to find a demon willing to accept your deal, none of them said yes. "Primordial demons don't make deals, if you go too deep, just turn back" but you went deeper and deeper, meeting the ancient ones that knew no words."](https://reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/yl3y4q/wp_your_quest_was_to_find_a_demon_willing_to/iuwj4tt/) by [Red580](https://reddit.com/user/Red580).
* * * * *
The aliens in this room were the ministers, the senators, the generals, the admirals, the marshals, the leaders of their species. This was supposed to be the first act of a whole weekend of events to celebrate their latest victory over a 'lesser' species. This weekend would not turn out the way they thought.
They looked so smug, and yet they had no idea of the danger they were in. I had disguised myself as one of their slaves, and so to them I was nothing more than an eyesore and refused to look my way. If they had, if *any* of them had looked my way, they would have seen two mouths moving in tandem to summon the soul eaters into the room. I could see them now; rising through the floor, falling from the ceiling, floating through the walls. My enemy could not see them, not yet.
The operatic singer onstage was a genuine talent, and she was beautiful to look at. Her green skin, flecked with opal-like shining freckles all down her back, was glistening in the plethora of lights above the stage. Her four lungs worked tirelessly as they individually blew their contents across the multiple layers of vocal chords, giving this single alien the ability to sing a mutli-part harmony all alone.
She was nearly done. And so was I.
As she began to harmonize on the last note, I unleashed the rage of my people and the fury of the demonic horde I now controlled. The first gasp of pain came from somewhere in the middle of the thousand-strong audience. The pure shock of something so painful beyond the entire realm of understanding meant the only sound was one of lungs squeezed from within. Without another the moment, the rest of the audience began to feel the same pain. Began to feel the same burning sensation across every cell within their body. Began to disintegrate.
I knew not how these demons would do their duty, all I knew was that they would slaughter those assembled like I wanted to. This was my first strike, and the first of many. First the leaders, then the soldiers, then the rest. They would all fall by my hand, by the power of the Endling of Humanity.
The singer had finished her song, and looked through the lights toward the crowd, wondering why they did not clap and cheer her performance. Her song had been about yet another brilliant victory of their military might. It played right into their propaganda about their prowess and was being broadcasted across the galaxy to all of their colony worlds. But that is not what they would see. They saw the confusion, the surprise, the pain. They saw death. The demons came into view for all now, and the singer screamed herself hoarse with all four lungs in an instant before the demons feasted upon her. Just like the rest, she faded into dust.
As the only one left in the theatre, the cameras focused upon me. I reverted to my real look, or at least the one where I was mostly human. My blackened fingers that faded into long forgotten glyphs and eldritch black-speech. My pitch-black eyes. The glow of ethereal fire that encompassed my being. In spite of all this, I was something impossible: a surviving Human.
I pulled a camera closer to me with a barely outstretched hand and spoke at it, staring deeply into the souls of all those who would watch.
"Remember this day, and tell all you see: Humanity will have its revenge."
* * * * *
I have my own subreddit! [/r/ocallkai](https://reddit.com/r/ocallkai/) | 109 | As the last note of the last song echoed around the room, I watched as the audience all turned to dust. And all I felt was relief. | 238 |
"So, let me get this straight, you can't die."
I gave a small nod to my companion, before resuming my efforts. We had been tasked with removing a Vine Stalker from the forest, after it had been attacking local villages. Its name came from its bizarre body, made of hundreds of intertwined vines. They were dumb, vicious beasts who acted on instinct.
Of course, hunting one in its lair was suicide. It could meld through plants with ease, letting it strike from all directions. So we had to bait it out, and kill it then. With my... condition, i made the perfect bait. Not that she believed me of course. No-one did at first.
"There, that should do it."
I stood back up, looking at my result. It was a simple tripwire, leading to a net hanging up above. This was one I had acquired years before, during my misspent century of attempted self termination. It was designed to not let anything escape, binding them in place. Once it fell on the beast, I could stab it from the front, whilst Ginra applied one of her many poisons.
"It should, but I'm still having a hard time believing what you say."
I shrugged.
"Listen, it's not my place to make you believe it beforehand. Trust me, this will show you."
She shook her head.
"Whatever, just make sure it gets in the trap."
I grinned at her.
"Oh I will."
She rolled her eyes, scrambling into the treeline. I left her get in position, listening for her whistle. It came in a sharp burst, and I rolled my shoulders.
"Lets do this."
I casually cut my arm, the pain bearly registering. I had died so many times I had grown pretty numb to this sort of thing. I squeezed my blood out, flicking it around. I needed to smell good for it.
It took a few minutes for my scent to fill the air. But soon enough I felt the rumble as something charged towards me. Something big and hungry. It burst into the clearing, snarling. I got my first good look at this beasty, sizing it up.
It was roughly the size of a bear, though wolf in shape. Seven additional vines rose from its back like tentacles, waving through the air. As it got sight of me four came flying down. As I jerked back each wrapped around a limb. I paused, realising what was about to happen.
"This will be new."
Sure enough it pulled. My body strained, bone and muscle locking together. But mere meat could not withstand the power of magical vines. I felt my body tear asunder, legs split individually along with my right arm. My left was dangling from its grasp, holding up the rest of my torso. I felt organs slip out from my new hole, an odd feeling I had to admit.
It hurt. I was surprised at how bad it was, but still not the worst I had felt. That went to the time I decided to jump in front of dragons breath. That sucked. I swung from its grip, wondering what sort of adaptation I would get this time.
It roared, stepping into the clearing. The vine holding my right arm dropped it, wrapping around my torso instead. I assumed it was now going to eat me, when I realised what had changed. I was in pieces, but I could still feel each part. I grinned, pulling my right arm across to the tripwire. I put pressure on it, until it finally released and the net fell.
Ginra appeared, her face pale. But she was still a professional, aiming her arrow at the centre mass. The net enveloped us, and she fired into its core. The beast roared again, sounding almost like a scream and writhing in agony. Unfortunately it pushed me down, running my face into the dirt. Still I yelled, even as dirt hit my tongue.
"Good shot!"
"What?!"
I sighed. She definitely hadn't believed me. But as its movements slowed, I was able to move my detached arm over.
"I said I can't die. This was definitely an interesting experience though."
I managed to remove the crumbling vine from my upper body, picking up my detached limb. I let iut a sharp breath as it reattached, feeling dust and small pebbles slowly forced out.
"I don't suppose you could help me get the rest of my body? I appear to have lost it."
She came into view, wide eyed. I smiled at her, waving at the sudden end to my body.
"I could really use your help. I'm not half the man I used to be."
She blinked, before a slightly hysterical laugh came out. I winced at it. I hoped I hadn't scarred another person. It was getting harder to find people willing to work with me. | 233 | You’ve been cursed to adapt to anything that kills you. Unable to be die, you decided to take up monster fighting. What could go wrong | 285 |
"I am Lucius Caedral Galafax," I say, head held high. "Prepare to di-"
The spear is impossibly fast.
It has no regard for honor, a blur that barrels through the air. My vision seems to narrow, time slows down as my hands begin to move, but compared to the spear inching towards my heart, they are so very slow. Too slow.
"Guh" I let out a guttural noise as the air is forcibly expelled from my lungs. It's difficult to breathe now, but the worst is yet to come.
I find myself staring at a long wooden cylinder that has now impaled itself through someone's chest cavity. *My chest cavity?*
Judging by how deep it is, it must have either shattered or gone inbetween the ribcage and went straight through to the other side.
But it's strange how it doesn't hurt. It doesn't feel like it even happened to me. Like I watched it happen to someone else.
And now I'm watching that person fall to their knees, but the screen is getting smaller. Like I'm getting farther away. The vision is reduced to just a square of light, like watching a television in a dark room. All around the screen is darkness.
The last thing I see is a tiny little spear being pulled out of a tiny little person. And then the screen is so small so as to be indistinguishable from the surround darkness. Nothing.
...
I pull the spear out of his body, accompanied by the satisfying squelch of blood. The force rocks him from his knees and he plummets face first into the dirt. I grin as I clench my spear. He spoke too many words. His life mine to take.
But my ears twitch at the faintest sound.
I freeze, closing my eyes to better focus on my auditory acuity. I frown when I hear nothing. That I am so reliant on vision displeases me.
My shoulders begin to drop as I hear a *twang*. There is no time to process what I heard. My body reacts instinctively, muscles across my body contracting and constricting, generating a force that shoots through my legs and propels me sideways.
It isn't enough. I feel an object, *an arrow*, cut through my right tricep. My right shoulder partially slumps as the triceps find themselves unable to support the humerus completely. I'm lucky my shoulder isn't displaced, my other muscles working overtime to keep things as they should be. If I hadn't moved at all, the shot would would have impaled my chest.
But I still made a mistake. By freezing I made myself an easy target.
*No. No time for that now. Do I run toward or away from the archer?*
It seems improbable the archer is alone. But are they trying to herd me towards their friends or are they grouped together? If there's enough of them, it could be both. Or what if they're alone and going out on a limb?
*Fuck it.* I need to take the safest option. Probabilistic risk reduction.
I vary my speed between jogging and full sprint as I run in the direction I came from. I already cleared this this area earlier so it's the least likely to be occupied.
*Twang.* An arrow whizzes by but misses. As I thought, a moving target is harder to hit.
My mind is working overtime as I try to bandage my arm while moving and formulating a plan. It feels like my head is going to explode, and my breathing grows more rushed. I can hear the sound of brush being plowed through behind me, but it seems like it's getting farther away.
I glance back, counting two figures in the distance. And then, as I turn my head back around, I hear a *click*. My foot stepped on something hard.
A flash of the light comes from the ground, so bright it blinds me, and almost simultaneously my eardrums are blown out. Then there is nothing.
...
A massive explosion rocks the forest, causing the birds to squawk as they flee in terror. I see our quarry consumed by a mushroom of flame, black smoke rising high into the sky above.
"Holy shit," I laugh, doubling over and out of breathe.
"How unlucky," my partner muses. "He must have stepped on a landmine placed by the gamemakers."
"Well.." I pant. "He was one of the biggest threats to us. Do you think he realized we used Lucius as bait?"
"Probably not," my partner shakes his head. "Lucius's skill with the blade was genuine. It's hard to believe an idiot could be that good. The others probably thought he was just proud-"
We're interrupted by a *CRACK* which resounds in the distance.
"We need to get out of here," my partner says gravely. "Others will come." | 16 | Hunger games, but the main character dies, and the narrator becomes the person who killed them. The main character will keep dying and the perspectives keep shifting to their killer's until there's finally a winner. | 149 |
"NO NO NO", yelled Caraxes, Pharaoh of the Gilden lords. They had finally taken his most prized gift he had, Fluffles, his orange tabby cat. The bastards must have taken his corpse, he thought to himself, the golden chalices, the stag beetles, and his concubine he could forgive, but Fluffles, no not Fluffles. He had heard tell of grave robbers before his death, but what sick FREAK, steals a cat's corpse. Caraxes set out into the mists that surrounded his home determined to find fluffles and to bring his kidnappers to justice. Never had he ventured from his gilden room, Anubis had warned him when he first arrived in the underworld, any attempt to access the human realm would result in a fate most cruel.
But this did not deter Caraxes, as he reached the edge of the mists, just beyond the mists, a faint outline of his tomb could be seen. He set his jaw, steeling himself against the fear Anubis' warning caused him, but the thought of Fluffles unable to rest, his corpse and soul forever lost in the fields of the damned. With his mind filed with the thoughts of his lost friend, he stepped out of the mists.
Before his foot could reach the ground, a giant hand made of black smoke, grabbed him by the waist, pulling him back into the mists at an alarming speed. Caraxes cried out, as his eyes adjusted and he looked upon Anubis again. The god's expression was one filled with anger, he opened his terrible jaw and his voiced boomed like a cannon, "Why!? You were a pharaoh, a king in both life and death, why leave when you know the fate you have sealed for yourself today?!"
Caraxes, was frozen with fear, staring up at the angry god, after what seemed like an eternity to Caraxes he found his voice somehow, "They took Fluffles" The god's eyes grew wide, and Caraxes prepared to meet his cruel fate, trying not to show the god his tears of fear. But almost as suddenly as he grasped him, Anubis released him.
"Go pharaoh, and reclaimed Fluffles" | 126 | You are an ancient Egyptian pharaoh trying to enjoy the afterlife, but all of your stuff keeps disappearing as tomb raiders steal the physical objects. Finally having had enough, you decide it's time to go back to Earth and get some cursing in. | 626 |
She surrendered herself to me so easily.
For millennia, I had roamed the nether. I am ashamed to admit that I was not particularly esteemed amongst my demonic brethren. Whereas they had influenced some of humanity’s heinous and most capable transgressors, I was little more than an unruly poltergeist in a few homes.
What worth as a demon did I have? I pondered on how I could make myself known in the underworld. It needed to be something easy and in the grand scheme of things, not take a lot of time. My forefathers had told me of how wicked (and impressive) it was to turn an ordinary person - someone well respected and loved - into a malevolent creature only superficially resembling a human being. I pondered techniques I could do that were within my power as a low-ranking demon, and then it came to me.
Possession - commandeering a meat puppet in the overworld - is how I would do it. It was difficult to find a victim at first. I did as the forefathers instructed and attempted to take over several priests, parishioners, choir members, and anyone who had any business being in a church. I failed every time. Then I went for those who were unsure of their religious conviction, but I failed again as they still associated with people who were pious and recognized demonic possession.
I was beginning to lose faith in my quest. That is, until I saw Catherine. This dull, pathetic soul gliding along life, barely keeping her head in the light, would be the perfect victim. She lived alone as far as I could tell, so this possession would go without a hitch.
At the stroke of midnight, I appeared in her abode. Catherine stood by her stove with an immovable glare at a pot. She did not even give me a glance. This was clearly an affront to my presence and she needed to know her place. I flooded the kitchen with a scarlet light and a wretched, fetid stink, but instead of breaking down in a screaming fit, she let out a curt sigh.
“What do you want,” she interrogated, “I’m trying to make some ramen and you’re fucking up my appetite.” This insect was a little more stubborn than I took her for, but I would be controlling the conversation real soon.
“Your life is now forfeit. I, Abbado, will take over your body to use as a vessel and spread the hellish decrees of the Prince of Darkness.”
She said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, only staring at me with a blank expression. I assumed she was concocting a plea in her head for me to spare her grim fate. Unbeknownst to her, it was already set in stone, but I figured I would entertain her a bit before sentencing her soul.
Catherine leaned against the fridge and simply uttered “Do it then.” I was puzzled. The forefathers had never told me what to do with victims who were willing to undergo the possession. She had to be bluffing. I walked closer to her, steadily shifting my presence to be even more beastly and disgusting.
“As long as I control that worthless meat sack of yours, you will be powerless to stop whatever actions I may do. Everyone you know, your family, your friends, they will all come to hate you.”
“Parents, dead. Friends, don’t really have any. I guess there’s.. actually nah, she’s kind of a bitch to me.”
“What are you saying… ahem, mortal?”
“Dude, I am so fucking tired. Rent’s overdue, I’ve been having sleep for dinner these past few days, and now some other place I applied to wants me to work without pay for a few days to ‘test the waters’ or some bullshit. I’m pretty sure that’s not even legal but who the fuck do I complain to for that? I just.. need a breather and if you take the wheel for a bit, be my guest.”
The forefathers had not prepared me for someone who was willing to be possessed by a demon. As she spoke, I felt a lump form in my bird-like throat. What was this unpleasant feeling gestating in my core? She continued as she walked through her home.
“Everyday, I come to this dusty, musty, tiny crap hole that I’m being charged fifteen hundred for a month. I have no time for hobbies and when I finally get some free time, it’s to catch up on sleep. No one ever asks me how my day is, no one asks me if I’m okay or need help! It’s like people don’t notice me half the time! My coworkers confuse me with the only other blonde girl who works there!” I saw her tear up and I suddenly felt nauseous.
She let out a chuckle as she wiped away at her face, and looked up at my one of my many eyes. “Do demons get tired?”
“Not really.” I answered, trying to keep a professional demeanor.
“Do you get hungry?”
“N-no.” My sagacity was beginning to falter.
“Then please, Mr. Aba- uhhh, Demon, haha. Take me away.”
I closed my eyes as my physical form reduced itself to a simple cloud. I enveloped Catherine’s being entirely; she stood there with her eyes closed and a relaxed smile on her face before her conscience was put to rest. And then, I was her.
I stood in the middle of her home and observed just how she had been living the past few years. A sullen, barren apartment with almost no furniture or decorations.
I looked at my hands and curled my fingers. An awful sensation like no other coursed through the fibers of my being - Catherine’s pain.
Possession was temporary, the forefathers said, and only ended once demons were bored or the vessel was destroyed by an angry mob.
That was NOT going to happen.
I did not want her to come back to this life full of hardship and misery.
I will build a new life for her. | 154 | The demon couldn't believe their luck to find such a willing victim to possess. However, instead of resisting like they usually do, this one said "Good luck. You'll need it." | 255 |
6 months. 6 months of creaking floors, slamming doors, and lights turning on and off repeatedly. You’d been trying to get these new goddamn residents to notice you for 6 months! Your latest attempt at scaring the tenants had involved turning the tap on while the two had sat in the living room, which simply resulted in a giggle from the dark-haired girl as she berated their kitten for playing in the kitchen. What would you have to do to garner their attention? How long would it take for them to finally notice you and leave you in peace? Their presence was really starting to piss you off.
“Jean! Can you grab Sasha from the kitchen? She’s messing with the tap again.” The woman asked, garnering the attention of the brunette laying on the couch across from her.
With a sigh, the man, Jean, stood up and began to make his way to the kitchen. God, even his sighs were annoying. What does she see in him? You thought to yourself. He wasn’t necessarily ugly, quite attractive actually, but there was something about his stupid goatee that evoked anger from within you. As Jean made to the kitchen, you “accidentally” knocked the dumbbell that happened to be placed on the small table beside the couch.
“SON OF A-“ Jean yelled, before taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes as tight as possible for a few seconds, before quickly looking around accusingly as you tried your best to hold back a laugh.
A small tabby kitten exited the kitchen to where Jean was seething, wrapping around his legs before stopping directly in front of you, beady eyes soaking in your ghastly form. You could feel her eyes burning through you as you peculiarly stared back. Cats are such interesting creatures; you were completely unaware as to why they were able to sense your presence but it was nice to be able to semi-communicate with something.
“There you are Sasha! You need to stop playing with that tap or we’ll have to pay a higher water bill,” he started, shifting into a cutesy tone, “who’s my little baby? You won’t do it again, would you?” He grasped the cat into a hug as you grimaced. That poor cat.
You didn’t care to know much about the couple at first, not bothering as you were sure that they would’ve been spooked by the second month; most of the previous tenants had. Your lazy attempts at creating paranoia and scaring them away had fallen in vain, the two usually chalking the events up to a coincidence. It was quite an effort to use your supernatural abilities to do more than move an object or two, and being a ghost for such a long time truly didn’t help your strength. Over the last month or two you had begun to listen into their meaningless, so overtly mortal conversations as a form of entertainment. Jean and Mika; a young couple who had moved in together in this house during their second year of college. Jean was currently studying to become a teacher, preferably in History, whereas Mika was trying to get a degree in Forensical Science as well as instructing MMA classes on the side. They had just adopted two small kittens from the same litter over the summer that they brought into your home; Sasha, a playful little tabby, and a ditzy grey kitten named Connie. You wished you could join the kittens in their exploration of the neighbourhood when the couple was out, but alas, you were unable to leave the house.
How long had you been in this house exactly? You weren’t too sure. Maybe a decade? Maybe a century? You had never been able to walk past the premises and you certainly couldn’t use the weird technology that the humans had recently created. You couldn’t remember your life prior to this house and you truly wish you did; maybe you had had a family of your own and people to care for you. People who loved you no matter what awful mistakes you made, people who tried to help you become a better person. You weren’t sure why or what was still tethering you to the human world, but you were positive that it had something to do with this house.
However, there was one fool-proof way of finally scaring the two out of your home for good. It didn’t matter that you had grown accustomed to Jeans stupid hair routine in the mornings, or Mika’s constant rom-com Friday movie nights that you silently attended. You wanted them gone, and a that chance of removal would come soon enough; Hallows Eve. A full moon would rise into the sky tomorrow night on the 31st of October, and you were just giddy thinking about finally having the place to yourself again. A true fright indeed, with the haunted evening combined with a full moon giving you the strength to perform what you thought would be one of the greatest frights in history. You would show them your true form as a ghost and scare them away.
The night of the 30th came and went with you sitting on the couch, the two kittens snuggled by your side. You wished you could feel their fur through your fingers, every attempt of contact unfortunately coming back fruitless as your palm would phase through the softness and come back as cold as the autumn wind that blew outside. Jean and Mika left at around noon for their respective courses, returning at 6 pm to prepare a bowl of candy for the children of the neighbourhood who were outside in costumes. By 10 pm, the local kids had stopped coming and Jean and Mika decided to hunker down for a horror movie to celebrate the occasion. With Mika being a primary member of her high schools “Occult Club”, she was very much invested in the haunting season and had even put on a costume. She was beautiful. A thin, muscular girl with short black hair, she certainly stood out from the previous women who occupied the house. She felt so familiar to you that you had always felt comfortable with her around, but you knew that if they were to stay in the house then you would get too attached to their presence. It was a lose-lose situation, and you knew you would feel hurt either way. You knew it had to happen tonight either way.
With the increased strength from the night that you felt flowing through your ghastly figure, you knew it was time to show yourself. With a bellowing voice, you mustered up your newfound power and yelled into the room.
“Get out of my house!” Your voice echoed through the room. The two jumped at the sudden loudness, looking around frantically in confusion. This was the moment you were waiting for.
You focused as hard as you could to manifest a physical form, delighted when you could feel a small amount of heat radiate from your figure. You looked down, seeing the soft glow that surrounded your body. You felt so powerful; you could flex your knuckles, feel the flow of your hair as it laid on your shoulders and feel your toes wiggle in your ragged boots. You tilted your head up to face the two, intending to see them frozen in shock and horror before scrambling out of the home. Instead, you were met with softening eyes from Mika, who only gave you a little smile in return.
“It’s nice for you to finally show yourself, Eren.” | 16 | You've been trying to haunt the couple who just moved in your house, but they have cats. It's been months and they still haven't noticed they have a ghost. Up your game! | 67 |
"It ain't a crime to stink ma'am. Sorry, nothin' we can do."
That was the response from the police as I begged them for help. Professor Stinky hovered over the city. Citizens pushed each other over to get to cover. A cacophony of screams engulfed the street. People started spraying deodorant into the air, but it was no use. He was here and he couldn't be stopped. He descended onto the city streets, and a wave of nostril-assaulting odor followed him. It was as if a family of raccoons shat themselves and then died on a bed of gym socks.
"Greetings, citizens of Town City! Face the wrath of my pits of doom!" said Professor Stinky. He cackled wildly and raised his arms into the air. Waves of people began to turn green. Some tried plugging their noses, but that only forced their mouths open, and they began profusely vomiting the instant the Professor's rank gases touched their tongues. I tried to stand strong, but was quickly overwhelmed. I fell to my knees and spewed the contents of my stomach onto the sidewalk. I spewed and spewed until there was nothing left to spew, and then I dry heaved while uncontrollably rolling in my own bile. Thousands of others were doing the same around me.
"Will nobody help us?" I croaked.
"I will!"
A beam of light coming from nowhere shined down on a tall, stone-jawed man wearing tights, a cape, and a military-grade gas mask.
"Took you long enough to get here, Awesome Man!" scoffed Professor Stinky. "You're too late! In mere minutes, everyone here will have my scent permanently singed into their nose hairs, and they will never be able to escape my wondrous aroma!"
"I guess I'll have to finish this quickly then," said Awesome Man. "Let's go!"
Awesome Man charged at Professor Stinky faster than my eyes could process. His fist made contact with the Professor's stomach, and a thunderous crack rang through the city.
"OOWWWWWW!" cried Professor Stinky "That really hurt! That is assault! I am calling the police this instant!"
Professor Stinky pulled out his cell phone and flew into the air. Moments later, there were sirens in the distance. A fleet of police cars came hurdling into view. A dozen cops poured out of the cars with masks on their faces and oxygen tanks on their backs.
"Mr. Man, you are under arrest for assaulting this innocent man right here!" said one of the police officers.
"But I was just trying to save the city!" moaned Awesome Guy.
The police were not willing to listen to his excuses. They pulled out their handcuffs and gestured for Awesome Man to put his arms out. Awesome Man, unwilling to fight a public servant, complied. "Thank you, officers. I was truly scared for my life here!" said Professor Stinky. He reached to shake an officer's hand, but they recoiled and ran to their car. Their partner shoved Awesome Man into the back seat.
The police rode off into the distance, and the citizens of Town City looked at Professor Stinky in shock. He grinned and started to take off his shoes. | 183 | "Why aren't you stopping the supervillain? You're a cop, your whole job is to stopping people like him!" "Well, there is a difference between a supervillain and a criminal. Simply put, that guy may be a supervillain, but he technically hasn't commited any crimes so we can't arrest him." | 661 |
"I can't believe you actually signed her yearbook with that," Uheri said, half in exasperation and half in amusement as she caught up to her frenemy.
Dillan shrugged a little. "It's not my fault if Terrible Teresa takes it the wrong way. Her attempts to save my soul are starting to annoy me."
"Oh, she'll take it the wrong way, all right," Uheri predicted. "'There is no hate stronger than Christian love?'"
"Yes, I mean, when she thinks about it, and realizes the insult, the slow smoldering burn will set in," Dillan answered, pulling out the key to their shared secret lab. "I only wish I could see it."
"Well, look here, dumb dumb," Uheri answered, pulling out her phone. "She posted that she has hope that even the most barbaric heathen as you will realize how powerful Christian love is." She slugged the boy in the arm for good measure. "She's literally too stupid to insult."
"Ow," Dillan complained. "I swear you hit harder than your brother."
"Of course I do. Unlike him, I'm not dating you," she sang as she descended the stairs.
\--
Down in the lab, sat The Beast. As far as either of the young teens could tell, it was part of a crashed spaceship, and specifically the part that allowed faster than light travel. Understanding how it worked, however, was a challenge the two solved in very different ways.
Uheri was a natural born tinkerer, and had cracked several puzzles by her intuitive sense of all things mechanical. Dillan was far more theoretical, and had dived into the computer to make sense of what the software suggested. Together, they had come up with a solid theory, although they hadn't figured out how to test it quite yet.
"Ok, so you had figured out the ignition sequence criteria yesterday, you said?" Dillan asked, drawing some figures on the whiteboard in the lab.
"Yes. This part here seems to involve a heavy gravitational field, while this part deals with a heavy magnetic field. We already knew that the FTL transition would have to occur near a strong gravity well. Like the sun."
"And you think the magnetic field has to do with it?"
"Look at how they interact. At a right angle. And you said they were both at a right angle to the direction the ship itself would be moving. Three right angles. Now, you're the math wizard, not me, but isn't spacetime supposed to be at a fourth right angle in the fourth dimension?"
Dillan tapped his chin with the dry erase marker for a moment, then drew out part of a cube shape on the board. "Momentum in the x axis, graviational field on the y axis, and magnetic field on the z axis. And momentum should be very high, if you're coming in to a tight solar parabolic orbit. You said magnetic... what if the magnetic pole is the spot we're looking for?"
"Well that's not good. The magnetic pole is a pretty small spot. How do you control for that? How do you aim for anywhere you want to go?"
Rather than answer, Dillan began furiously scribbling on the board. For a solid few minutes, Uheri watched, as the symbols became more and more esoteric to her eyes. Finally she spoke up. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Determining whether the number of activation points are one, or infinite."
"Two. There's a north and south pole, right?"
"Oh. Right." He added a 2 in front of one of his variables, and continued on with his equations from there.
"How can they be infinite if there are only two poles?"
Dillan stopped, mid-equation, glared at Uheri briefly, then finished his line. "If there is a region of non-zero size, then it is infinitely many possible positions. If it is a single mathematical point, then it isn't."
"Are you high? The poles can't be infinite, they're like a nothing of a percent of the total."
"Almost nothing times infinity is still infinity," Dillan answered. Then he paused. "Except when it isn't. Is it?" He shrugged. "There are infinitely many numbers, right?"
"Ok, sure. So what?"
"And there are infinitely many odd numbers."
"Ok, I guess so."
"And there are infinitely many numbers between zero and one."
"No. Nope. Not playing. You're going to ask me if there are more odd numbers than there are numbers between zero and one. But it's a fools errand, infinities are infinite!"
"The numbers between zero and one are bigger. I can always find a number between any two given numbers, but you cannot always find an odd number between two arbitrary odd numbers, eventually you run out. The size of the pole is the same, there are an infinitely large number of spots surrounding the pole. The question is if they count AS the pole. And we haven't even considered altitude above the pole. Is the region a sphere or a cone?"
"Well if it's a small enough region, it's effectively a point, right?"
Dillan shook his head again. "No, a point is a point, that's different. Like... consider a dart board."
"Ok, where are you going with this?"
"The odds of hitting any specific point on the dart board are tiny. In fact, I can prove with math that they are zero."
"If you are throwing the dart, yes they are zero," Uheri said, smirking.
"Har har. There are in fact infinite spots on the dartboard you could hit. The chance to hit any is one over infinity, which is zero. And yet, somewhere a dart must hit. So the sum of all those zeros, added together, is in fact, one."
"I think I see," Uheri answered.
"Good. Then let me work on this."
Uheri frowned, as Dillan continued to do his math. "You are assuming the sun is a perfect sphere?"
"It should be good enough for a first order approximation."
"And that the sun's mass is constant?"
"Sure. Yes, I know it's changing as it burns, but not by much."
"And that the magnetic field doesn't fluctuate. Doesn't move around? That the billions upon billions of atoms aren't constantly moving around?"
"Yes, I am making some simplifying assumptions to make the math work, what's your point Uheri?"
"You're using an idealized model of your system to estimate real world tolerances. But an idealized model doesn't need to have real world tolerances. So you will find the answer must be a single point, which is impossible to hit. Just like your dartboard. But this machine, for it to even be here in this lab, must have actually flown at least once. And there is no way it hit an exact mathematical point to do so - that computer it came with might be more powerful than any on Earth, but it is not.. ahem, infinitely so. What you need to ask is not if you can hit the dead center of the bullseye, but how big is the bullseye." Uheri smirked, and tossed the dry erase marker to Dillan, who caught it dumbstruck.
"Next time you try and lecture me on infinity, remember that just because you..."
"A bullseye, of course!" Dillan exclaimed, starting to scribble more on the board.
"... you aren't even listening now, are you?" Uheri sighed a little. | 304 | "So the infinity between 0 and 1 is smaller than the infinity between 0 and 2 but if you take all the points from the first infinity you can match them up evenly to all the points of the second infinity because it's infinite. That don't make no goddamn sense" "Yeah. <chuckles> Isn't math fun?" | 1,447 |
This is the most awful living situation ever. In all of history. Nobody has it worse than me. God, I despise all of them with every fiber of my being. I never should have moved in, but my hubris got the better of me.
Lust’s room is right next to mine, just my luck. Every night, she brings home a new guy or girl – and every night, without fail, all I can hear for hours and hours is bed-squeaking, moaning, and other depraved sex noises. Because of her, I haven’t slept a wink since I got here three months ago. And, of course, she hits on me constantly. I’m way out of her league, though, so I don’t know why she bothers. She’d have a better chance with Gluttony, but I don’t blame her for steering clear of him.
Gluttony is an obese, slobbering, disgusting mess. He must weigh at least 400, maybe 500 pounds. He drives himself around in one of those electric scooters because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. We’re constantly running out of groceries because the fat bastard goes through 6000 calories every hour. I have to hide my leftovers, otherwise they’ll vanish without a trace.
At least he pays his rent, though – the same can’t be said for Greed. That girl is the worst. Every single month we have to hassle her for her portion of the rent. “I’m out of cash, I had to pay for a life-saving surgery!” She’ll say, giving a typical lame excuse. “I’ll pay double next month, I promise, for real this time!”. The only reason we haven’t thrown her out is because she keeps up with the housework pretty well, unlike Sloth.
I don’t think I have ever seen Sloth anywhere besides the couch in the living room. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn his body has fully melded into the cushions. The lazy fuck has probably never washed a dish in his life, and he leaves dirty clothes all over the place, constantly. Him and Gluttony are best buddies, making quite the dynamic duo. Whenever they’re in a room together, the smell is indescribable.
Have I mentioned Wrath yet? She’s a loose cannon. I once saw her break a chair over Gluttony’s head for taking the last slice of pizza on movie night. I’ve tried to steer clear of her ever since. One day, Envy stole one of her expensive pieces of jewelry – the resulting fallout was so bad that it took stitches, an organ transplant, and several weeks of physical therapy to repair.
Envy is just… annoying. Besides being a thief, he has to one-up everything I say. “Oh, you slept four hours last night? Pfft, lucky you – I only slept one!”, he’ll say. I splurged on a nice car last week, and yesterday he went out and purchased the slightly newer model. I look back fondly on those four weeks where he was stuck in the hospital in a full-body cast.
As soon as this lease is up, I am out of here. I hate hanging around this bunch of losers – I could do much, much better. Everybody loves me, after all. Maybe this is a bit prideful of me, but I truly hope that they are able to learn from the experience of having me, such a great guy, as their roommate. Maybe one day, then, they won’t all be so intolerable to be around. | 442 | You move into a new house, a bit surprised when you find 6 other Roommates there with you, their personalities so far apart from each other it’s almost comedic. You almost ask what they’re doing there when one of them Yelp out “Nice to meet you! I’m lust” | 771 |
The arena was filled to the brim with a lot of people from all walks of life. It was the anticipated fight between me the Prince of Frintodia Carolus and my rival for life Princess Elizabeth of Dolumfus.
It is a battle to end of it all.
We stepped upon the arena at the same time, we steeled our resolve for this very moment, this is it. the climax of it all.
"The rules have been agreed upon: If I win this battle, you must marry me."
"And if I win, you must marry me." She replied back to our agreed terms.
I was getting butterflies in my stomach not because we're equals on all aspects of battle, I was getting nervous on a different aspect.
What to do after we are married? If I win this battle I could take her anywhere we wanted, we could be adventurers and stay undercover and live in a cozy cottage outside the human realm, or we could set up a simple tavern and run it together? Ooh, the thought of simply settling down very far away sounds too good similar to the cozy cottage idea.
*AAAAAHHHHHH, THERE'S TOO MUCH TO CHOOSE! WHICH ONE THAT WE COULD TAKE TO ENJOY OURSELVES TOGETHER?!?!?!?!*
Flustered, I shook my head and focused my eyes ahead on her, I must win at all costs!
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I noticed his unusually more serious look on him piercing me, I was thinking just now of what to do after this battle ends, maybe we should be travelling together on various places and visit tourist spots and making memories there? Should we ditch our royal lineage and live as commoners? That could work.
Wait, why am I spouting nonsense inside my mind? Shouldn't I focus more on the battle instead.
I should win no matter what it takes to achieve that goal I have in my mind. which is travelling with him not to be stuck by responsibilities of being royalty! I'm sure he wants that too, he's so serious about everything that...
He's so cute! I want to tease him everyday.
Thus I need to win with everything I got!
I look ahead again seeing his posture ready for battle, I too readied myself, but his gaze is getting unusually sharper.
My mind is going blank from his gaze.....
I need to get it together Elizabeth.
&#x200B;
\--------------------------------------------------------
"And let the bout commence!" The referee said, and another blowing the whistle.
The two figures immediately converged and their movements were nothing short of superhuman, every sword clang could be heard multiple times, yet the audience aren't able to make out their movements.
The arena was getting so tense it builds up even further than what people think was possible. The physical prowess of both are akin to higher beings, it wouldn't be weird of their magic prowess was something to behold of!
Magic clashed and explosions erupted, dust kicked off in the air, shrouding the visibility somewhat in the arena. And then came big powerful slashes enough to destroy a house.
Enough to a destroy building in a single swoop, to forest, to a mountain, and might even reach the moon if it ever does.
Miraculously, they are never realized due to the sophisticated barrier systems intended to safeguard the audience, but even then small visible cracks are forming in the barrier, not even the barrier could withtand such pressure and stress.
Its outside the realm of possible for everyone in the arena, no one knows who has the upper hand, the audience of the arena could only pray that the one they chose win and for their safety.
\--------------------------------------------------------
"Milady, is losing power-- err I mean the will to hit Prince Carolus"
The referee said to the ensuing battle they could follow their movements albeit somewhat.
"Are they gonna hit each other or what? Milord only parries Her Highness' sword"
"..."
"..."
Both heave an audible sigh on both idiot of a couple on their final battle.
"Let's make a bet how long they will last"
"Nah, let's bet how many more final battles they will take."
"Don't be pessimistic about it. I bet this duel will take only 5 hours and Milady will win."
"Oh hell, you underestimate both, it will take 8 hours minimum."
"How much we betting?"
"40 Pieces of gold"
"Deal!"
"You can change predictions as long this battle goes on right?"
"Yeah, every 3 hour intervals"
"Watch as your money will be gone after a day!"
"No, you will be the one who loses money!"
Both referees or both royal retainers made bets on who will win, well who will be the one last left standing on the eternal battle for love.
The retainers wish for each others happiness. But deep in their mind they always wished:
&#x200B;
*Please just end it all, and let us live peacefully too!* | 41 | If I win this battle, you must marry me.". The princess replied, "And if I win, you must marry me." | 108 |
"Eh, that happens all the time," the man mused.
"Oh, yeah!" His colleague jumped in. "Heh, when that guy came up with imaginary numbers? Briliant, I wish I could see what the others thought..."
"Alright, alright," I butted in. "But... those things exist, and this doesn't!"
They stared at me. "You think math just exists somewhere for us to discover? We invent this stuff! Does infinity *exist* someplace out there in the universe? Does i just happen to be there? No way! We came up with all of it!"
The other jumped in again. "Right. Y'know, we like to think of math kind of like a game. When we make a new discovery, that's just a new rule we wrote in. Like, Euclid. You've heard of Euclid? He's like the best geometer. Or was at least, he's dead now. Anyway, Euclid said that a few things were true and went from there. We call them postulates. But if you change a postulate-"
"Or even remove it! Things change enormously. Like, Euclid only did geometry on a plane, a flat surface. If you don't do that, if you do geometry on a ball or something, a lot of his rules break! So no, kid, you didn't break math. You just gave us some extra fun." | 10 | "Uhh, guys? I think I broke math." | 19 |
Hi, me.
If you're reading this, then it means this "genie" wasn't full of crap. I could try to prove that you're me by telling something from our past, but I'm just from another dimension, so there's no telling what past we share, so I won't bother.
To get to the point, I am currently standing in a giant crater that used to be the United States of America. I'm sure you would like to know how to avoid this same fate, if you are in danger of it. Well that's why I'm here. So if you happen to come across an oil lamp, or mysterious box, or really any ancient looking container that could be magical, DO NOT OPEN OR RUB IT.
I made that mistake, and this genie popped out, "accidentally" destroyed half a continent while stretching (I get he's magic but how does that even happen?) and then right after had the gall to tell me I get three wishes. Well naturally I told him to undo it, but of course he has rules against bringing back the dead, which incidentally includes rewinding time to before I even saw the stupid lamp, and so I told him I only got one wish. To send this letter to every single alternate version of me out there, so it wouldn't happen to you. If it even would, I don't know how that works. I mean, there's gotta be at least one of you who this will be helpful for, right? Or rather, an infinite number of you. So yeah, it'll help someone I guess.
So now you're probably wondering why I'm being so casual about all this. Well, that'd probably be because I'm still in shock, or whatever. You know, killing an entire continent. I was just being dramatic with the whole only one wish thing. I'll probably wish to be teleported to Alchfed or something. You got Alchfed in your universe? I mean, statistically, probably not. Great place, you should go there some time. But first I think I'm just gonna lay down for a while. Uh,
Sincerely,
You | 22 | The Genie was shocked to hear that you only had one wish, not wealth or power. The wish was a letter to an alternate dimension version of yourself. This alternate version wakes up and opens the letter to find that it’s advice from you on why and how they shouldn’t screw up their life like you. | 79 |
The bell above the door rang as the ground ceased shaking. From what appeared to be a dark mist appeared a rather pale man with handsome Mediterranean features leading one - no three - large black hounds with a grip of gleaming golden chain. The dogs walked remarkably in unison, but their heads surveyed the sights and scents of the waiting room excitedly.
My newer assistant began to speak but as I walked around the corner, I spoke over him.
"Hello, and welcome to Jurassic Bark! Who are these cuties?"
Pulling on their lead, they came to heel as the man responded, "this is uh, Sir...." he paused.
"Sir? And the other two?"
"...Bear and Ursa." His responses were cold and his words were sharply pronounced. "They're brothers."
"I see. Well how long will they be staying with us?"
"How late are you open?"
"Well we can do overnights, but we close up at 8 if you think that works. Our kennels are currently available, it's only Tuesday."
"Perfect. I suppose tomorrow will be necessary. We're getting our gate redone and honestly he just can't stand anyone in our yard." The man patted the side of the middle dog heartily. All three wagged their tail. "The best guard dog you could imagine." | 30 | You work for a doggy daycare, one day you feel the ground shaking. Hades the Greek god of death, has come to drop off his dog Cerberus. | 105 |
I really don't get it, why am I the only one that is confused and concerned about this?
Everybody just bursts out in song and dance, everybody seems to know all the choreography without any training at all. It is very bizarre to say the least. At first I thought I was just on the outside of some elaborate inside joke. Like everybody was trying to go viral so they arranged some flash mob type deal. But it kept happening. Over and over. And it was always around the hottest and most popular guys at school. Did they have hypnotic powers over everyone? Does being popular give you control over others? Also, why did none of the teacher's give a shit. Students literally disrupting class with their singing. I'm over here trying to learn trigonometry, and these idiots decide its time to incorporate triangles into their fears about the future.
It's lunchtime so I grab my grab my brown paper bag and find a table. Eating my sandwich, I watch a song and dance performance about the importance of hard work. It would have been entertaining if not for the fact that they were jumping up on tables and shit while I was eating. Nobody cares about sanitation I guess.
The song is finally over and everybody breaks. Always a strange moment. The song will end and everybody is stuck in a pose for a couple seconds, and then go back to normal as if nothing happened. I catch the eyes of the leader in the pack. Jack, the most popular guy at school. He smiles at me and comes over. He asks me about my sandwich. I guess you don't need great conversation skills to be popular. Just a great haircut.
I ask him about the song and dance. He laughs and changes the subject back to my sandwich. I change the subject back to the song and dance. His eyes dart around the room. A look of fear screams out of his eyes. He holds his finger up to his lips telling me to stay quiet. I refuse. I want answers. I berate him with questions. How does it happen? How does everybody know the lyrics? Where does the choreography come from?
"STOP!" A voice booms out but it is not from Jack. It seems to be coming out from all directions. "We ordered a lighthearted musical. If we wanted meta, we would have bought the rights to Deadpool."
And all around me, everybody started disappearing. Fear and panic all around the room. Crying. Running. But nobody could run away from their fate. We were all vanishing from existence. We had been cancelled. I am responsible for destroying our universe and murdering all of my family and friends. I guess I should have just taken a dance class instead of bitching. | 224 | You're a regular high school student, and every day people are breaking out into spontaneous, yet elaborate, song and dance. You just want to know- why is it always around the same 3 people, and where is everyone getting these lyrics from? | 659 |
Only the soft hum of the working machinery filled the silence left by the ambassador's remark. Everyone had heard the same thing in their earpiece, and the gravity of the information, it appeared, hadn't been lost on any of us. I turned to the joint chief of staff who was standing next to me and the two of us shared a moment of prolonged eye contact. I turned and glanced at the personnel behind me, who were all giving me the same look, as though quietly in one loud voice saying:
*Ask about it.*
"In time," continued the ambassador. "We will reduce emissions to the galactic federal standard of 0.8 bits per–"
"Ahh, excuse me," I interjected. "Apologies for the interruption, Ambassador Terk. Did you just now refer to us as the *second* colony of humans, or was that a mistranslation of the software?"
The ambassador looked up from his paperwork into the camera. He stared at all of us through the big screen as though unsure of where to begin. He turned to his left and pressed a few buttons on a monitor just offscreen. "No. There appears to be no issue with the transliteration software. My words should be reaching you just fine. Is there confusion about what I just said to you all?"
"Jesus Christ," uttered someone from behind me.
"Okay, one second, ambassador," I said as I leaned forward and took a deep breath. The forty or so people in this room were about to learn of something so incredible that it would doubtlessly redefine our understanding of history in an irreversible way– so profound were the potential ramifications that it may very well earn itself a top classification. After being certain of what I wanted to say, I looked back up at the screen and met the ambassador's patient gaze.
"Forgive our ignorance, Ambassador. But we, as a species, are unaware of a colony of humans that predate us by such a stretch of time as to consider them a separate grouping. Could you elaborate on that further please?"
The alien smiled. It didn't come naturally to him; he'd been specially trained on how we humans read faces, and wanted to convey a positive response. We knew it was merely a facsimile of emotion, but it worked well enough. We were about to get answers.
"Unbelievable," the ambassador responded finally. "Your ancient ancestors did not leave records in stone, at the very least?"
"How ancient are we talking, Ambassador?"
"Twenty-million full solar revolutions, Director."
My mouth fell open involuntarily– something I had been carefully trained not to do in front of our new intergalactic allies. The information was just that startling. I quickly pulled myself together as the room filled with excited murmurs and expletives. I shared their energy entirely, but I needed to remain composed.
"I can confirm we were not aware of their existence," I said into my mic. "Anything you could tell us about them would be greatly appreciated."
"I'll gather a packet together and make sure it finds your hands," responded the ambassador. "Off the top of my head though, I can tell you that they populated the continent you know as South America. They did venture away from South America in search of other lands to settle. However, grasslands were sparse at that point in the history of your planet, and they had become accustomed to living in thick vegetation."
"Incredible," I said just above a whisper. "Did they understand farming?"
"They did, I believe, have extensive knowledge of agriculture. They had a system of writing, a code of laws, towns, armies, skyspears... they were quite advanced considering what they had to work with."
The room again filled with quiet excited voices. This was completely unexpected. It didn't make sense based on everything we knew about the earth. In fact, it seemed impossible.
"By skyspears," I responded. "You mean, of course, sky scrapers? As in tall buildings?"
"Negative." said the ambassador. "Sky spears is the correct translation. Heavy artillery to be used in the skies."
"Are you saying," my joint chief of staff cut in. "That they were locked in aerial combat? Did they achieve flight?"
"Negative," responded the ambassador quickly. "They were under constant threat from large avian and reptilian species that preyed on them from above."
The room fell silent again. I knew what I needed to ask; the boys would never forgive me if I didn't. I swallowed and folded my arms, adjusting my stance as I stared back at the alien on the monitor.
"Are you saying... I'm sorry, did you say flying reptilians?"
"You know them colloquially as *dragons*, Director."
That was the end of all decorum in the room. Even the ambassador seemed surprised by the sudden outburst. General Shu was trying to retain order behind me as I stared into the monitor with wonder in my eyes that I probably hadn't had since I was a little boy.
"I see," the ambassador smiled again. "So they *did* leave something behind."
"Dragons?" I asked.
"How?" asked my colleague. "We would have *some* kind of fossil evidence of creatures that big. We have fossils from creatures much older than twenty million years."
The alien looked off-screen for a moment and nodded before turning back to us. "Actually, it appears that dragons were made mostly of cartilage. In order for them to be able to fly at all, they needed to be very lightweight. I am also being told that they had great helium sacs inside of their chest cavity to assist with their lift. This helium was also used as a combustible agent to allow them to spew great fires over the human settlements so as to flush them out of their buildings and into the open."
I laughed softly to myself and looked up at the screen. The alien stared back blankly.
"Ambassador Terk... are you fucking with us?"
He smiled. "Yes, Director. We're fucking with you."
A few aliens off-screen leaned in and smiled at us, and the room erupted with laughter around me. I smiled bigger than I had in years as my colleague wheezed next to me.
"You got us good, Terk."
"To a long-lasting friendship," he responded.
r/A15MinuteMythos | 1,483 | Humanity has finally achieved interstellar travel and has been acknowledged by other intelligent alien civilizations. The aliens were accepting and shared many pieces of information with the humans. However, what was most surprising is that they called us the "Second Colony of Humans." | 3,181 |
You gaze inside the swirling vortex of blue-white energy within the frame of the archway. You couldn't help but let your jaw dangle loosely as you took in the sight of a real portal to...somewhere. You know not where it leads, for unlike an open door, it does not show you what lies beyond. A sense of curiosity and a pull, a soundless call seemingly from the portal itself, made you take a few uneasy steps forward towards it.
"What the hell..." You mutter to yourself as your hand reaches out towards the portal.
The center of the vortex brightened as your hand drew near. You let your skin touch the portal. It's calm energy washes over you like pristine water, and beyond, you feel an odd coolness as if your hand alone was atop a small mountain enjoying a cool breeze. You pull your hand back and see that a few drops of dew have settled upon your skin.
"Well, it seems safe. Let's see where it takes me, then.
Throwing caution out the window, you fully step into the portal, crossing over to an entirely different world. The portal's light blinded you momentarily, but when it slowly waned and you regained your sight, what you saw simply took your breath away.
"No way..."
Off in the distance was a floating island, and upon it was a city with white walls. Gentle, golden light from within the city covered the whole scenery in a welcoming, wondrous glow, making it look as if it was Heaven itself. A few more islands of varying sizes surrounded the city, the seemingly more important ones connected by bridges. A cool breeze brushed gently against your face, and you couldn't help but feel at ease in this place.
"Is this heaven?" You blurted out.
"It sure is!"
A cheerful voice from behind you startled you, and you quickly turned to look. Much to your relief, it was a human, a young lady seemingly as old as you. She was sitting at the top of the archway, one of her slender, milk white legs crossed over the other. With such a lovely face and an innocent smile, it was hard for you to keep a straight face and at least pretend she's something to worry about. She was simply beautiful.
"Well, maybe not the kind that good souls go to after death, but close enough!" She said in a cheery voice.
She hopped off her perch, her small wings spreading open as she landed ahead of you.
"It's been a while since we've had visitors. I thought all the gateways leading here from Terra have all been destroyed." She turned to face you. She was still smiling at you, but a look of curiosity was in her eyes now. "What's your name, traveler?"
"M-my name?" You dumbly ask.
"Of course, silly! Everyone has a name!" She smiled widely as her white dress fluttered in the wind. As if the wind itself admired her purity and innocence and sought to protect them, it did not reveal anything above her knees towards you. "My name is Marigold. You are?"
"M-my name's Theodore. Theodore Zanderoff."
"Zanderoff, eh? I'll just call you Theo, if that's fine with you. You are fine with that, right?"
"Uh-huh." You dumbly answered, still more or less bewitched by her beauty and completely pacified by her warmth.
Amused by your dumb expression, she giggled and took you by the hand. You felt your heart skip a beat as she pulled you along.
"Come on, let's go to the city over there. I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you, Theo."
For the first time in a long time...you let out a smile.
"Yeah...I hope so, too." | 20 | You recently bought an estate that has an old garden wall with a ruined archway, the engraved stones lying around. You decide to fix it and as the final stone is in place the carvings start to glow. The magical portal you just repaired has reactivated. | 84 |
Raul stood in shock as the apparition took shape. He had just finished his morning cell refresh when it had appeared, its blank expressionless face slowly contorting to mirror his own shocked expression.
"Wha..." His words caught in his throat as the rational part of his mind began to assert itself. *It's just a glitch in my visual software. It isn't even that unusual, right?* This was the price of technology. Sometimes weird side effects just happened. He assured himself it was and turned his attention to breakfast, leaving his vision in the bedroom where it seemed to be frozen.
Raul's breakfast routine never wavered. He would always have two poached eggs on a crumpet with spinach and cheese. It was an enjoyable meal and the routine was comforting, but it also served another purpose. The spinach hid the flavor of his tech supplement, which his Engineerites would harvest and whisk off to whichever part of his body needed maintenance beyond his organics' capabilities.
He cooked and ate his food deliberately, avoiding looking at the bedroom where the specter had appeared. *Definitely worth at least a bug report*, he thought. He settled into his armchair. A quick hand motion and his apartment was gone, replaced by his red and gray launchpad background. He quickly found the node of his visual aug manufacturer and with another flick of his wrist he was there.
He could have easily sent in the report in an email, but he wanted to be absolutely sure it went to the right place. At least, that was the excuse he told himself. Going online he could at least ignore the unsettling sight of his bedroom with its ghostly occupant that surely did not exist. The experience had been more surreal than frightening, but he had no desire to repeat it. The more steps he put between himself and the bedroom, the more chances his augs had to re-initialize and clear the error.
Submitting the bug report was a fast process, which was exactly what he hadn't wanted. He floated towards the building-like facade of VisAugs^(tm) *(See The Future!)* and focused on the directory. That was all the prompting it needed; it rushed up to fill his vision. He scanned through the list; his eyes settling on 'Contact us - Report a Problem :(' and the system, sensing his attention, immediately assigned him a customer service bot in the form of an attractive woman dressed as provocatively as could be considered business attire.
"Oh no! Is there a problem? I'm SO sorry something is bothering you! Can you tell me about it? Maybe I can make your day a Vision of Excellence!" The bot deftly avoided admitting any responsibility as he submitted his report, opting to use the text option rather than navigate the automatically generated responses of the bot, now watching patiently at the edge of his vision. As he finished and moved to log off, he could hear the obligatory "Thanks so much for helping us keep our Augs extraordinary! Would you like to take a brief surv-" The voice cut off as the world melted.
Raul felt his armchair float up to meet him, then blinked the real world back into existence. Except it couldn't be the real world; not completely. The apparition from the morning was in the living room of his apartment now, pacing back and forth. He sat frozen in his chair. Before he could form an escape plan, the creature saw his wide eyes and screamed at him. "You! Who are you?! Why do you look like me? WHY DON'T MY AUGS WORK?!"
Several words formed, one at a time in the back of Raul's throat, only to crumble before they passed his molars. "Wharrrn mi st..." came the wreckage of a sentence. The two Rauls stared at each other for a moment before he attempted more speech.
"Wha.. who am I..? I'm.." He searched for a way to introduce himself to himself. "I'm.. Raul Nguyen... This is my apartment... Who, uh, I mean.." He cleared his throat. "Are you... you know, also?" he ended weakly. He briefly considered that this may be some kind of home invasion or robbery, but if it was, it wasn't any tactic he'd ever heard of.
"I..." The less solid Raul started to speak but thought better of it. He stood in sullen silence for a moment before whispering "I was afraid you'd say that." He held up his arms by way of demonstration. One passed right through the other. His voice cracked. "I don't know what's going on."
Once it was established that no harm was meant, the next several hours were spent experimenting, trying to figure out the limitations of this ethereal copy. Raul also maintained in the back of his mind the hope that this was some glitch or bug in his Augs, but presented with the very real- perhaps that's the wrong word. Convincingly unreal? Detailed? Presented with this visage of himself, he felt an urge to suspend his disbelief, at least until he had determined the rules.
Their experimenting was interrupted however. Their experiment to see how steam from the shower would react (Raul had always been taught that spirits were cold, and had decided that steam would provide the proof of it), Solid Raul was interrupted by an incoming call encroaching on his vision. It was his doctor.
"Hello, is this Mr. Nguyen?"
"It... is." *One of them anyway.*
"Mr. Nguyen, we've received an alert from your monitoring agency MediSure that there may be a problem with your organics. It may be nothing to worry about, but to be sure we'd like you to come in so we can take a look. Can you do that today?" | 29 | Cybernetics and nanotechnology advances to full-body conversions. It's normal; even the brain is gradually replaced over years, a single neuron at a time. Near immortality through a routine process. One day, however, someone is alarmed to find themselves haunted by a ghost . . . of themself? | 173 |
I awoke sharply from my nap in the bowels of Mt. Eropi to the sound of mining tools slowly chiseling away the igneous rock that encased me, the result of a long-ago eruption that was supposed to hide me forever. My body ached so hard that I thought for a moment that I had lost the indestructibility that I disdained, but I quickly remembered that if that were the case then I'd already be dead.
Oh to die, to finally make peace with this mortal world. I knew I would never have the privilege of passing on to that place where others went so easily. Over the millennia I had tried all the ways - from submerging myself in a pool of hydrochloric acid to enduring multiple explosions that put me in minute pieces - I would always come back a moment later, somehow whole again and outside of the harm I had put in my own way.
Eventually, the others figured out that I could elude death, and now they wanted me as their research subject. Nothing seemed worse than spending eternity locked up in their lab as they microscopically examined each part of me, attempting to reproduce the capability that the strange man from outer space had endured on me back in the days of Julius Ceasar.
I admit that I was young and stupid, a warrior that never wanted to die in combat. So when a hooded figure pulled me aside one night after a victory celebration and told me that he could grant me immortality, I didn't hesitate to follow him. In those days nothing was known about outer space and the concept of a spaceship was as foreign as Godzilla, so when I saw a cylinder flying fifty feet off the ground, I thought that this man had some kind of mystical God-like powers. He put me in the cylinder, pressed some buttons, and then tested the capabilities by throwing me out of it from high up in the air. To my amazement, I wasn't even injured. He left before I could even thank him or say goodbye, thrusting himself up into the sky inside the cylinder so fast that he was gone within an instant.
The first thing I did was try to use my newfound power to become rich, taking on every fight I could in the underground pits. Within days, I got accused of being some kind of cheat when nobody could defeat me. After that, I found myself behind bars for the first time, learning the lesson that despite being immortal and indestructible, I wasn't immune to restraint and prison. Fortunately, I learned I had another secret power to offset this - the ability to sleep for years. I spent the vast majority of the time sleeping between the Roman Empire and the day I decided to jump in the volcano, as I was often in jail once people discovered my powers.
Over the centuries, I eventually became smarter about the way I conducted myself. I didn't let people know about my abilities and used my vast and accurate knowledge of history and artifacts to build a fortune for myself. Between 1790 and 2012 I didn't spend a year in jail, and I rather enjoyed watching the world change so dramatically, especially in regard to space exploration. Despite this, the accumulated centuries of living had grown on me, and I became tired enough of living that I began to crave death. That was what inevitably led me to a lab.
When I told them that I couldn't die, and they tested this, they were amazed beyond belief. I told them the entire story from start to finish, and within days I was transferred to a different lab, a much more top-secret government one. There they used all kinds of scanners to study me but could conclude nothing. I ended up locked up in a cell again, sleeping once they were finished with me.
That's where I was until 2022, when the earthquake hit and broke the jail open. Once free, I quickly decided I didn't want to spend another day living and that I'd simulate prison by jumping into a soon-to-erupt volcano, where I'd be locked in the rock and be able to sleep forever.
Now, I'm awake again. *Grrr.*
The chiseling got closer and was soon mixed with explosions as they used dynamite to bust in - until I fell forward into the tunnel that they had built. I had suspected a cadre of police officers and scientists but was surprised to see the same hooded figure that lent me immortality all those years ago, his spaceship behind him.
"I hope you enjoyed the mission, but we can't get any data out of you inside this volcano, so we've decided to retire you," he said.
"Really?" It all made sense now. Hopefully, this was it, the moment I was finally going to die.
"Get in the ship," he said as my replacement, who looked just like me, walked out.
\-------
My personal site: r/StoriesToThinkAbout | 41 | As an immortal, indestructible being with no sense of pain I thought throwing myself into a volcano would be sufficient to get people to leave me alone. The fact that they are currently digging me out of my entombment proves otherwise. So much for that nap. | 145 |
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