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[WP] murder is legal, once a permit has been obtained from the local police department. Permits require a declaration of a target victim and justification to commit the act. Once a permit has been issued it is valid for 72 hours. Once expired you can never get another for the same target victim.
|
Officer Jennifer tilted her gaze upward incredulously. "Is this a serious filing?"
"Completely serious."
She sighed, and Officer Jennifer rubbed the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Sir, the Sanctioned Termination Act is, of course, your right to pursue..."
"Yes. Yes it is." The boy in the red hat grinned. "I have as much right as any citizen to select and follow through on a target."
"We use the term "Recipient." Officer Jennifer scowled. "And you ARE aware that the Recipient is not in any way shape or form obligated to just permit the engagement to happen uncontested?"
The boy grinned with unabashed malice. He couldn't be older than ten years old; seeing such evil warping a young face unnerved Officer Jennifer. "Of course. The hunt is part of the fun."
*What the hell is wrong with this kid...* Officer Jennifer made a mental note to report this to her supervisors for inspection. The STA unfortunately had no restrictions on the age of who could file permits, only the age of Recipients. "Fine. Name?"
The boy in the red hat held up two fingers. "Two tar... recipients, if you please. Jessica and Jamison Rocké."
Officer Jennifer wrote the names down, one each on separate permits. "Grievance?"
"It's personal."
"I can't give you a permit without listing the grievance you have against them that warrants murder, kid."
"Fine. Theft. They keep trying to steal my pet from me."
"You're wishing to kill two people.. over a pet?"
The boy smiled, and pulled the pocket of his shirt open a little ways. A small dormouse, tawny yellow in color, peeked out with a curious squeak. "Mister Peeker and I are very close, you see."
Officer Jennifer wrote it down on the two forms. "I am obligated to tell you that Jessica Rocké and Jamison Rocké will be immediately notified of this filing. Once we can confirm they have been informed of the attempt on their life, you will be notified of the beginning of your seventy-two hour Engagement Period. Any activity taken against the Recipients prior to that notification is not considered legal engagement, and will be subject to standard laws."
The boy in the red hat nodded gleefully. "I wouldn't want them not to know. I *want* them to be afraid. I want them to know Ashe is coming for them."
Officer Jennifer waved her hand at Ashe, wishing to get his disturbing presence out of her station. "Your copy of the forms will be available at the desk down the hall. And again, no activity is permitted until we notify you that the Recipients have been notified. ..No matter how fun it may sound."
Ashe barked a cold piercing laugh, and reached into his pocket to scratch Mister Peeker on the head as he left to claim his forms and await his Engagement Period.
|
Different people come here and get their permit.
Young people, old people hell yesterday a kid was here.
I've been working in the central city department for 2 years now, have seen tons of faces familiar and unfamiliar some are even regulars...
But what I didn't know was that today would be different, today would mark the day of not just a new era also the terrifying truth of what humans really are.
He looked like a normal guy in his 20's short beard and hair a nice pair of sunglasses and a soda in his hands and as he walked to the counter, to me, this chilling feeling overcame me of when you know something is wrong.
He moved up to the counter and asked for a permit, but as I replied "which person are we talking about?" He just nodded and replied in such a agonizing voice but with so much assertiveness "everyone"
| 2019-07-09T10:00:39
| 2019-07-09T08:57:47
| 238
| 47
| 4.06383
|
[WP] The really annoying thing about being a vampire is not the inability to see your reflection, but rather the fact you aren't detected by automatic doors, soap dispensers, or the paper towel dispenser.
|
Vladimir walked up to the massive corporate office building. This would be his first job interview ever - which said a lot, when you were almost 600 years old. But the times were changing, and you couldn't be a bloodsucker forever.
Feeling an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness, he stepped up to the doors. He was immediately perplexed to find that there were no handles.
He made an attempt at finding some kind of switch, but soon became frustrated. He saw the receptionist and security guard looking at him in confusion. "Can somevun help me over here?" Vlad asked, peering through the windows. "There doesn't seem to be a vay to open it."
The security guard walked up to the door, which opened immediately. Vlad glared at him suspiciously. "Vat vitchcraft is zis?" he asked, feeling his fangs lengthen as his anger grew.
"Sorry sir," the security guard said, "must be an error with the doors. Don't know why they weren't picking you up."
Vlad thought for a bit, then nodded sagely. "Ahh, I thvink I know," he said, as he walked past the reception, "ze doors must not be able to see me."
The guard stared at him, confused. "...Sure," he said, deciding it was useless to argue with a crazy person.
****
Fortunately, the door to the office where the job interview was taking place simply had a knob, which he turned with self-satisfaction. "Oh, you must be... Vladimir?" the interviewer inside asked, gesturing towards a seat opposite the desk. "Please, sit down."
Vlad sat down uncomfortably. He preferred to be standing, generally upside down, and this just added to his feeling of being overwhelmed.
"So, Vlad," the interviewer asked, looking down at his CV with intrigue, "what made you choose this job?"
"I vas told I needed to 'get vith ze times'," Vlad said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "and I vas recommended to this job."
"Brilliant, brilliant," the interviewer said, "and is there a reason your CV is bound with - what I assume is - human skin?"
Vlad looked surprised. "Vas that a bad idea?"
"Oh, no problem, no problem. So, a question we like to ask our potential employees is, when you look in the mirror, *what do you see?*"
"Nothing," Vlad said simply.
The interviewer frowned. "We mean how do you see yourself, Vlad? What does your reflection hold?"
Vlad was beginning to get annoyed again. "Nuthink, I told you. I am Vampire."
The interviewer raised an eyebrow, paging through the CV. "Ah, yes, my apologies, that would explain why the only thing you listed under your 'strengths' was 'Bloodsucking'."
"Is zat a bad thving?" Vlad asked, worried that he blew it.
The interviewer laughed. "A bad thing? Nonsense - you're hired!"
Vlad looked at him in surprise. "*Really?*"
"Of course, this is Comcast," the interviewer said, smiling, "we're all bloodsuckers over here!"
*****
*****
If you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my new subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/)
I'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3
|
Count Vassili glided through the shadows, his feet barely touched the ground as he gracefully swept across the parking lot. The night was his domain, his refuge. The bright lights of the store front were nearly blinding to him. He pulled dark sunglasses out of his favorite antique petticoat jacket. The bit of lace on the cuffs were a subtle display of his wealth and position.
He remembered wearing this jacket to a masquerade ball a few hundred years ago. Men and women dressed in their finest clothes dancing to the violins. Unconsciously his feet began to step the waltz just as he had done on that night so many years ago. He spun and stepped directly into the closed door face first. The impact sent his sunglasses flying from his head. His makeup had left nearly a perfect imprint of his shocked look on the door. He hissed angrily cursing the petulant door. It had taken him hours to blend his foundation and concealer until he was satisfied.
"Curse your insolence!" Vassili hissed at the door.
As with most inanimate objects it did not reply.
"Fool! For eternity you shall be cursed for your indignation!" Vassili roared and spread his arms wide preparing a most heinous curse.
"Whoa look at this Janet! A goth person!" Todd said pointing to Vassili.
"Oh my god you're right! I didn't think there were any goths left!" Janet said snickering.
"I bet he still listens to Korn."
"Hey maybe we can get a picture with him?" Todd laughed as he pulled out his phone.
Vassili turned his hate filled gaze upon the interlopers of his feud with the door.
"Can we get a selfie with you? This seriously takes me back to High school," Todd asked.
Vassili nodded slowly.
Janet and Todd stood on either side of Vassili and made stupid faces as Todd held his phone in front of them. After a few quick clicks they stepped away to look at their photos. Their stupid grins slowly faded as they tried to understand why Vassili wasn't in any of the pictures.
"What the heck-" Todd's question was interrupted by Vassili's finger nails tearing out his throat. Janet screamed and tried to run. She barely made it a step before Vassili's fangs sank into her like a Capri Sun's straw.
Vassili drank deeply until he was satisfied. He dropped the corpse of Janet and cursed.
"Blood on my favorite jacket! Every damn time!"
He turned to the still closed door and scowled, "your time is coming."
The door stared back silently.
With a hiss Vassili turned and vanished into the night. He would have to return another night to buy more makeup and Korn CDs.
---
Thanks for reading! Check out more stories at /r/Written4Reddit
| 2016-11-11T04:42:09
| 2016-11-11T04:24:14
| 3,190
| 276
| 10.557971
|
[WP]We have come into contact with alien lifeforms. They are weaker than us.
|
I remember looking at the stars and imagining that out there, somewhere, intergalactic empires existed, alliances between planets and races on a grand scale that Humans couldn't even fathom. The idea that aliens out there would be superior to us in every way has always been enforced on us, the sci-fi movies depicting alien invasions with vastly advanced technology. In 2045, humanity's obsession with finding out if we are truly alone radically increased when we found evidence of small, bacterial life that existed on Mars for a short period of timel. It never had the chance to evolve, but now we knew that Life was out there.
We went to Europa, Jupiter's moon, in the hopes to find marine life in the subglacial seas. We found nothing but darkness. People began speculating that Life originated on Mars and was sent as a 'seed' to Earth, after all, how could there not be life on Europa, when it had water for so long? Were we still just a fluke of impossible luck?
I never expected I would be a part of the Journey. It took us two hundred years to build Santa Maria. We sent up parts costing billions of dollars into orbit and assembled our expedition vessel in zero gravity. I can still remember the vibrations when the engines roared into life, increasing our velocity enough to escape Earth's gravitational pull. And then we went to sleep, for a long time. There had been a breakthrough in teleportation science. We had learned how to send and receive data in the blink of an eye across incredible distances, with speeds that exceeded Light Speed. We didn't know how it worked, just that it did. Messages sent from Earth appeared to us instantenously, even though we were light years away. When we woke up, we were all weak and scrawny. For three months, we trained, and built our strength back up. When we were ready for our orders and the mission, we all reported back to Commander Andrea for briefing.
She did seem rather sad, and discouraged. I could tell even from the back. She spoke, a short speech, before playing the messages. The teleportation device flashed into life, establishing contact.
"Santa Maria, this is NASA. You were supposed to wake up and report back to us after a hundred years, which is fifty two years from now... That's no longer necessary. Due to cuts in funding, we will extend your sleep and reports for another two hundred years. We wish you luck and good health."
MESSAGE TWO.
"Santa Maria, uh.. It's been two hundred and fifty years since our last contact. The lack of funds will shorten our messages. It's too expensive to teleport."
MESSAGE THREE.
"SM, we've redirected your course towards the most promising star system closest to you. God speed."
MESSAGE FOUR.
"SM, our program is cancelled. You're on auto pilot. Good luck."
MESSAGE FIVE.
"You're all that's left of us."
The device abruptly stopped transmitting. We looked to our Commander for answers. She had none.
We were orbitting a planet slightly smaller than Earth. Atleast we had reached the planetary system they redirected us to. The planet was a light brown in colour and didn't share many outwardly appearance similarities with Earth, but our data gathering suggested the atmosphere had Oxygen, and the surface had Water. We sent down ships for a closer look. I was a part of that crew. We set up a small base of operation and began exploring. After just a few hours we knew we could live here. The radiation levels were low, the weather calm, and gravity somewhat comfortable. There were no signs of life, however. The day was long here, 37 hours, and we had landed in the early morning hours. The base was completed just as darkness began to fall, and a dome raised around our tiny living spaces.
I couldn't sleep. I broke protocol and exited my living space and began walking around inside the Dome, kicking at rocks, picking them up, feeling the weight of them. I looked through the transparent material that protected us from the outside. It was dark as hell. I wondered if I would be able to breathe the air out there. I put my helmet on and approached the airlock. The vacuum popped my ears as the air drained and suddenly the door opened. I stepped outside and marvelled at the alien night sky. It didn't look anything like back home. A blue gas giant about twice the size of our moon back home rested quietly in the sky, and next to it two moons. A movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Into the light stepped a catlike animal with a long tail attached to it that stretched far into the darkness. It bared its fangs at me and growled quietly. A second shape slowly approached. It looked like a man. He was twice as short as me and held the cat by a leash. His big eyes stared at me in wonder. He made some strange sounds with his mouth and soon I was surrounded by these tiny men, some with spears in hand, others with rocks. The 'leader' approached me and put a finger at my chest, then pointed to the Dome. He motioned for me to go inside, and then pointed at the dark sky and made some strange gestures. An eardeafening roar in the distance struck fear in me and all the little men returned to the darkness of the night, but the leader and his cat remained calm. He slowly handed me the leash to the beast and walked backwards back into the night.
Edit; Wow, just woke up and saw all the response. I honestly considered this to be one of my worse stories I've written on here. I'm surprised ya'll liked it. Thanks!
|
It was the third night in a row that Johnny had seen the flashing lights, piercing through the forest at the same time each evening. He glanced at his clock for the fourth time in as many minutes to confirm this. It read 1:06.
It had been an accident during the first occurrence, on Monday. Johnny had needed the toilet. During the cold walk down the hallway, back towards the comfort of his warm, Toy Story patterned bed, a flashing light at his window had caught his attention. It only lasted five minutes, but he was transfixed. Since then, he had napped during the day, in order to stay up at night, hoping to see the forest lights again.
The forest sits behind his rural,wooden house. The house where he had always lived - with deck chairs on the porch and a paddling pool in the garden. It was all he had ever known. It had been in the family for generations, his Father was always telling him. He had only been in the woods several times. They had always scared him, the endlessness of the trees, of it all.
But tonight, Johnny had decided to leave the safety of his bed, of his house, in search of the lights. He left at midnight.
He was cold, he wished he had worn a second jumper. Or indeed a second pair of socks and pants. All of a sudden lights surrounded him. He spun in a circle and only saw the light - he slammed his eyes shut but the light seemed to get even brighter. He heard a wailing in his ears, a piercing sound. He screamed like he'd never screamed before. But he could hear nothing.
He awoke, cold and confused. He must have passed out, or fallen asleep. He had no idea what time it was. He couldn't have been out long, it was still dark. Suddenly, he became aware he was not alone.
It waddled over to him. Then another. Then another. He tried to count, while stumbling to his feet, all the bodies that suddenly surrounded him. Seven. Seven...creatures. They were grey, four foot tall, and completely naked. They had no mouth. No genitals. And made no sound as they shuffled towards him. As they came closer and closer, staggering towards him, he clambered back, yelling at them to stop.
They stopped. "It's OK Johnny" he heard in his head. "We have learnt your language, we mean no harm."
His mouth fell open. How was this possible?
"It is possible Johnny. We can also read your thoughts..." they replied.
Johnny questioned in his mind why they were here.
"Our planet was destroyed by war, the air is polluted, and within a generation, it will be no longer possible to live there. We need your help, we need to stay here. It seems perfect. Our ships can only travel as far as your world. We were sent as a scouting group, we have been scanning this forest, discovering many things about your world, for days now".
Johnny was speechless. Not that it mattered - they could read his mind. He decided he would introduce the aliens to his parents. They would calmly decide the best approach to take here.
The journey from the house, earlier in the evening, had not taken Johnny long, but it took three times as much time to get back. The aliens were slow, weak and get stumbling over lose branches and tree roots. In the end he carried three of the aliens; two on his back, one in his arms. He had to keep stopping to allow the rest to catch up.
At one point a fly buzzed nearby, one of the aliens saw it and instantly collapsed in fear, shaking and shivering at the unknown creature. Johnny rolled his eyes.
When they finally arrived home the sun had begun to rise, casting a yellow light behind the frame of the generations-old house. Johnny, and his seven new, unlikely friends, entered the back door.
The patter of small feet caused his Mother, who was cooking breakfast, to stop and turn. Wide-eyed, she screeched to his Father, who was sat in the front room watching football on the TV, "honey, get the shotgun, now".
The aliens cocked their heads to the side in interest. Johnny calmly explained to his Mother how they communicated, and how they meant no harm. His Father, now in the room, shotgun in hand, scratched his head, and lay the shotgun against the wall.
In the coming weeks Johnny's family would embrace their new acquaintances, trading knowledge and forming a solid bond. They named each alien and bought them clothes. Johnny created a makeshift classroom in the garage which he used to teach the aliens the simple ways of our world - using the limited knowledge he had gained after twelve short years.
The more he got to know the aliens, the more he realised his initial impression was wrong - their mind-reading capabilities were the most impressive aspect of their being - in most other ways they were either similar to us, or simpler. Their bones were weak, and their attention-span was excessively short.
Eventually a neighbourhood kid saw the aliens through the garage window one day and ran home to tell her parents. Within hours the old house was covered in men in suits: police, FBI, and who knows what else.
They never heard from the aliens again. Johnny often wondered what became of each of them. His otherworldly friends, who taught him not everyone is as strong as they may first seem.
| 2014-12-14T05:51:21
| 2014-12-14T04:41:44
| 294
| 39
| 6.538462
|
[WP] In a world where you can exchange the remaining days of your life for $9.99/day, Jeff's request for $1000 is declined.
|
"Are we going to see the horses again today?" A wide smile flashed across his face as he looked up at his father.
Jeff looked down at his son, smiled and said "Yes, yes we are. We just have to make a quick stop at the bank and get some extra cash before we go."
"Do we have to?" His sons smile vanished and a look of disappointment appeared.
"Don't worry, it'll only take a few minutes and afterward I'll buy you ice cream!" Jeff looked up at the sky with confidence. This time Jeff meant it, things were going to change for the better and he'd be able to give his son everything. He received a tip from one of his buddies on a bet that would pay off big.
"It's ok if we don't get ice cream." He looked up at his dad again, and smiled.
Jeff and his son walked into the bank and headed straight to the back room where the special transactions were processed. "Give me the usual, $1,000 please! How's about a discount for one of your regulars?" he said to the teller.
The teller reached for his life scanner and looked back at Jeff with a hint of frustration, "Sorry, no discounts. Also, in 9 days new laws go into effect, making these transactions illegal. Bank of American Life will no longer be able to process these transactions".
The teller brings the scanner down to his sons hand and scans. *BEEP BEEP BEEP* "I'm sorry, there appears to be insufficient funds in your sons Life account, sir. Would you like me to try your personal account?"
Jeff looks down at his son, and then back at the teller "But juniors only 8 years old, he's got plenty of life left.... There's got to be some sort of mistake... Try it again"
"Sir, you've been making the max child withdrawal of $1,000 everyday, for a while now. You knew this would happen eventually. Do I need to call security?"
Jeff lets out a deep sigh and says to the teller "I'd like to take $9.99 out of my own Life account, I have to take the kid out for ice cream"
Jeff thought about taking out the $1,000 from his own Life account, but the thought of risking his own life over such a gamble just didn't seem worth it.
|
"Want another dance sweetie" she whispers in his ear.
Flipping his pockets inside out he silently tells her he's all tapped out. Not being one to take the first no she grabs his crotch and says "You're young baby.. We just got a new health bank ATM installed"
The young man requests $1000 rolls up his sleeve and starts the process. DENIED flashes across the screen.
Narrator ~ young billy just contracted HIV by using a local health bank ATM. Don't be like billy. Only use Health First Private Health banking for your withdrawals. Now offering 2 month free bonus with all new accounts.
Commercial End
| 2014-07-10T10:17:25
| 2014-07-10T09:28:51
| 689
| 166
| 3.150602
|
[WP] Over the years your D&D game has managed to continue with most of the original players. However, almost everyone's life circumstances have changed drastically since they began and you now DM for a group of some of the most-powerful people on the planet.
|
*Final Call. Session from 6:30pm to 11pm on the 12th. Next session 1pm to 5pm on the 24th. Any objections?*
People usually laughed when they see me text, since it always sounds so formal. It makes me sound old, which isn't fair. I just turned 39 in June. And considering who I was texting, it makes sense to be like that.
*Kashmud cannot wait to crush the skull of that dragon* The first comes from the Goliath Barbarian. I hadn't been too worried about him making it, he was usually free. He was mostly a figurehead now at Drivr, as they had secured the market after the Uber-Lyft war demolished both companies.
*Can we make the 24th an hour hour later. I have lunch with VP Howard that day.* The druid spoke up, and that wasn't too big of a shock. Games that started close to lunch had a habit of being pushed back.Apparently the Senate Minority Whip takes alot of lunches.
*I have no issues. You can just come in late.* The wizard smartly pointed out. That was a huge win, since she was also so fucking busy. I don't mean to sound rude, but the world has enough sickness in it already. Can the WHO let their regional director get a few hours for herself once in a while?
*Should be able to* That was the paladin with their doublespeak. He could always talk himself out of a situation and give himself loopholes so often I had to ban the bard class from him because he broke it too easily. Considering the politicians involved, you'd be surprised it was the future HoF quarterback that was the best talker.
*It depends. Weather needs to be favorable since I will need to copter.* The monk with her comments was understandable. If they could get her, good. If not, the state of Maryland better put their governor to good use.
*Sounds like we can work it out! Glad to be in town for this!* The warlock sounds excited. It was in part his fault I had to tie everyone down so much like this. While we all stayed near DC, he went to Hollywood and became a leading man and public face of philanthropy. If he could give us more than 8 sessions in a year that would be nice.
I sighed to myself and smiled. I never got to see them anymore, high up in their ivory tower and rarely coming down to visit my world of Drenami. I should think about canceling this game, focus my effort on a game with more regular enjoyment, but it seems like an atrocity. This game has generations. It would be a waste,.
*Alright, for now we are locked in. The 24th session should be RP heavy so you won't miss much Scott. Remember, you leveled up to 9 last session. Do your work before you come to my table.* I sent out, hoping to make it clear that I didn't want to waste our time leveling people up for this. I looked at the clock and realized it was time to get ready for work. The Washington Natives football stadium wasn't going to secure itself.
|
"It seems I have to take the initiative again, I'll scout ahead." Elon said. He played rogue, always.
"i'll come with you Elon, for com-pan-y," Bjork's voice itself was like music. Elon told me once he found it seductive like the sirens, too good to be any good.
"You and her leave at the same time? Not this again, let me check my pockets before you go, you might have taken something." Insisted trump. He was extra angry today.
He rolled the dice for investigation. He got 20.
"Bad move. bad bad move. No sword in there and long hair means it was bullshit Bjork!"
Elon's forehead vein pulsed. " Are you sure you ever had a sword in the firet place? Don't think those tiny hands could manage it."
Trump would have burst back in the day. But all he could manage was a glower and he was already struggling for breath.
Hov sat by my side, humming and rapping 'Marcy Me' to himself more than anyone else.
Finally he said, "I miss Oprah."
It wasn't always like this.
We'd all met at an L.A party. Trump had just claimed he was worth 5 billion and threw a lavish party to prove it. It was A-List. He wanted it to be the kind of thing that caused stories to spread.
Trump now is an old furnace, ceackling at the right provocation, but back then he was like starfire. Even in his late 40s he knew how to party big.
I don't remember much of the night but I remember two things very well. strippers and gambling. Me, Elon and Jay-Z had claimed a room's worth of both. Hov was suave, he had a good 7 years of experience on me and Elon. He taught us moves and games. Things I'd never want my wife to know. nearer to the end, some of the girls may have been willing to pay us to go on.
. Shitfaced we had what we at the time thought was the greatest idea ever, we'd explore another dimension with dungeons and dragons. Elon called a guy and somehow everything, including a myriad of substances, was with is on an hour. We took to Trump's attic.
Bjork, Oprah and Hillary somehow stumbled in together, each looking wilder than the next. They probably thought wwe were doing exactly what they were, more than a little disappointment crossed their eyes when we explained we were gonna play D&D.
With the drugs we had it all felt real. And the fire's burned for more than just the dragons, as our parties advanced and cries to attack got drunker and messier, our flames roared louder, together .
Trump joined after some particularly passionate screaming from bjork- she can really hold a note- strapping a dildo with one hand and swigging some russian vodka with the other. There was a lot of russian vodka at the party. Liike that the party grew.
I was their storyteller. For years now they'd try and throw money at me for private games or to host for them. But I played on my terms, and with them, it was all of us or none of them.
Time strains all threads, what was once deep friendships. I remember when Trump first told me he wanted a better america, a greater one. He said it after after smashing down a barrier of orcs that were circled around a chest of healing elxiir that we needed.
"A damn wall can't hold me back!" He shouted.
We'd all laughed at the time.
As the drugs played the full scene of Donald clobbering down hundreds of orcs Jay pensively sat back.
"Lord we know who we are, but we know not what we may be" he said. And for some reason it felt right.
| 2019-06-26T05:08:22
| 2019-06-26T04:09:00
| 262
| 23
| 10.391304
|
[WP] A new rule on Earth is made which allows everyone to legally kill 1 person in their life, this affects the world severely & changes how everybody acts.
|
**DISCLAIMER: First time commenting, so I hope I have done this properly.**
"So, have you used yours yet?"
It was the question that was on everyone's minds since the Law was introduced. Death and murder had left the realms of impolite conversation, ushering in a new type of small-talk that was, in essence, macabre. You could sit in even the quietest of restaurants and hear the Question over a dozen times through your meal. My record was 23 times in, perhaps, twice as many minutes. An impressive amount, I thought, but nothing to brag about.
Of course, no one really bragged about anything anymore. Everyone was too scared, too worried that their swagger would provoke others to use the Law. The same had happened with almost all conversation, really. Everyone was polite, everyone was nice, and, most of all, everyone was quiet. It was a remarkable transformation from the busy, bustling society I had known all my life; in just a few months, the Law had created a world walking on egg-shells.
Except for the Question. No one shied away from it, no one blanched at it. Some even asked it with an excited grin, full of glee at the prospect of finding out someone's Silence. Some still saw any answer other than 'No' as an excuse to return to old habits, though many found themselves Silenced soon enough.
The first months of the Law had been complete and utter chaos. Old rivalries, feuds and petty squabbles were settled with a Silence, and the world was overcome with an unbounded paranoia. Homelessness was all but eradicated as Silences were used to 'clean the streets'. The gay community was near wiped out by the end of the second month. The entire world was caught in the cold, vice-like grip of fear.
Not even world leaders were above the Law's reach, and by the end of the first month we were looking at a completely new global political stage. By the second month we were looking at an even newer one. Constant change became the norm as the old order was Silenced by the new, and the new Silenced by the newer.
Even in the politeness and the cautiousness that followed, that chaos persists. The wealthy, for all their pomp and bought security, are Silenced almost daily, while the poor are Silenced for the simple fact of their existence. It is the elderly, surprisingly, who use their Silence the most, Silencing people almost arbitrarily so as not to waste the opportunity granted by the Law. Just the other day, in fact, I witnessed an old woman, clad in a thick tweed overcoat with an even thicker tartan scarf wrapped around her gaunt throat, Silence a man on the bus for refusing to give up his seat. He was disabled.
The newspapers are all saying the same thing now; the Law is growing out of control. People are seeing through the niceties of polite society that the Law had created, and using their Silence simply because they can. Chaos is coming back, and with it the deaths will rise.
If you are reading this, I have been Silenced. I have known it would come eventually. A stranger, a friend, a lover, an old woman on the bus. The Law has made killers of us all, and I can only hope that, in reading this, you see the Law as only a distant memory.
And if not, if the Law still exists, if Silence still rules the world, I ask you; have you used yours yet?
|
The law says everyone gets to kill one person in their life without needing to facing any punishment. It seemed to have minimal impact at first. After all, murders happened all the time, and many murderers are not caught. This new law essentially only affirms an existing fact.
Until I read the papers the next day:
*Billionaire family slaughtered in luxurious mansion*
Apparently some nutjobs decided it would be just to murder the rich people. And since the law says everybody gets to kill one person, they decided it would be a good idea to band together to kill an entire family.
No one was punished, it's what the law says.
The following week, rich families were murdered each day. They were all gone by Saturday. Some were strangled, some brutally stabbed, the most elaborate one involved each member from the family burned by a different killer on a stake. And then the problems really hit us.
With those poor bastards gone, no one dared to take their place. Everyone was terrified at what would happen if any of them had their names associated with a large corporation. Instead of a sight to be envied, being a famous is now something to be avoided, lest you become a target yourself.
Soon, big corporations dissolved as none wanted to take charge of management. Independent producers took over the market for a while, until people started getting killed off for marking their price too low, or giving too many benefits to their clients, or having a product too similar to the next store. Those went away as well when people decided they will just ask for free stuff together. They had to abide, the law is on the killers’ side.
People stopped interacting with one another for fear of offending the wrong person. No one would dare open their mouths to greet their next door neighbour. There were some attempts at connecting with other people, with subtle nods and shallow eye contacts. Most people would only talk to their spouse and children, those are the people you can trust.
However, with the economy in shambles, even food is a struggle. We hardly know who is running the government, the last President was assassinated two days after the law passed, and no one took his place as far as we know.
Several of my older neighbours stopped coming out to their front yard as the weather got colder. We tried to grow some crops, but that didn't go anywhere…
I'm starving as I write this, I've gone on days without food, barely any water… Yet I'm trying to sharpen my knife. The Smiths next door seem well off enough, and our family still have our quota
| 2017-12-03T07:22:49
| 2017-12-03T06:50:17
| 7,256
| 146
| 48.69863
|
[WP] You are a lawyer in God's Court who and you must a find a way to get your newest client, Adolf Hitler, into Heaven via a loophole in the Lord's legal system
To clarify, the job is relatively simple: you are a lawyer who argues the case for people who don't just make it into Heaven. Anyone who was a heathen, a murderer, or just an all-around bad guy is forced to have you as their client to score them a ticket to the best afterlife around. This particular case has you dealing with trying to convince God that Hitler deserves to go to Heaven by abusing a loophole in the system. You are motivated to do this because you're a lawyer and this is your job.
Have fun, and thanks in advance to anyone who submits.
|
The trial did not go well. Hitler was found guilty of the murder of countless humans, including his family, and himself. At the sentencing is where I will strike.
"While Hitler is guilty of sin, my client did accept Jesus as his personal saviour. Is it not the case that his sentence has already been spent by our Lord's sacrifice? If we read the divine law, we find that the only unforgivable sin is blasphemy. My client is not here sentenced or even accused of blasphemy, and so surely his sentence is spent."
|
"Your honor, this man is not guilty of the actions the prosecution claim he has committed. Article 6 of the Mosaic Commandments clearly states 'Thou shalt not kill--' but my client never killed anyone."
"Objection! Millions were killed at his orders!"
"Your honor, I object to the prosecution's objection. The case is moot--he never personally lifted a finger to harm anyone. His own suicide was an alternative to the lengthy trials and execution he would undoubtedly face, nullifying the supposed 'murder' of himself it would normally constitute. Now we are forced to look at his personal life on earth. He was a reasonable individual when dealing with his family and friends. He was in a committed relationship and had a daughter who he cared and loved for, and he engaged in virtually none of the sins set forth in the law of Moses."
"Objection! He was not married to the woman he had a child with."
"Marylin Monroe is in heaven right now and she slept with more men than would fill the seats of this courtroom. Your honor, my client pleads 'not guilty' to all charges of murder."
The judge contemplated a second, then shrugged and banged the gavel. "Not guilty. Welcome to heaven, Mr. Hitler."
| 2014-10-13T08:34:47
| 2014-10-13T08:30:05
| 69
| 20
| 2.45
|
[WP] You, a Human, have been sentenced to death on an alien planet. The method of execution: gas chamber. However, the compound used in executions, Tetrahydrocannabinol, isn't quite as lethal to humans as your executioners expect.
|
“Bring out the wretched Human!” The voice boomed from all angles. “Let the council decree his fate.”
Steve Stevenson was dragged from his cell by two exceptionally large Moroxi. The Moroxi had an unnerving similarity to the long extinct Kangaroo from earth, but with four arms and scales. The guards sneered at Stevenson, one ripping off his patch of bravery from his uniform, before throwing him into a large circular chamber.
The chamber was pure white and so sterile it stung Steve’s eyes if he looked at one point for too long. He looked up to see five ridiculously dressed Moroxi leering down at him. They were wearing hats that looked like traffic cones.
Steve shuffled forward a step, “There must be some misunder—“
“Silence!” The voice boomed again. Coming from everywhere but nowhere. “This is no trial, this is an execution!”
Steve blinked away the tears forming in his eyes from the psychic assault the Moroxi Council was inflicting upon him. That damn crystal, it was always a stupid crystal. If I make it out of here alive, Steve thought, no more crystals. But deep down, he knew he had no chance.
“Administer him . . . The haze of death!” The mouthless voice hissed.
Steve stiffened, waiting for some searing pain to send him tumbling down into the dark abyss of death. Then, he smelled it, some of the dankest kush he ever smelled. So dank in fact, that Steve already felt a little high.
“What’s so funny? You find torturous death amusing human?” The Moroxi council scoffed at him in unison.
Steve coughed a couple times and giggled, “no it’s just, your hats. They’re like, funny, you know?”
“No we do not know! These are our symbols of office! They distinguish us, the regal—“
Steve was laughing, “stop doing that! It tickles!”
The Moroxi council looked amongst itself, “the mind-voice tickles?”
“The mind-voice?” That’s what you guys named it?” Steve was still laughing, his eyes glazed and redder than the devil’s delicate appendage. “Hey, wait.” Steve stopped laughing and looked around, “do you hear that?”
The Moroxi council leaned over as one, “hear what?”
Steve unleashed a massive fart that echoed throughout the chamber and doubled over laughing. “My ass-voice!” He was crying and slapping his hand on the ground. “This is some good shit!”
The Council huddled together, communing as one and instantly deciding one of them, Alparox the Younger, would delve into Steve’s mind in order to discover the miraculous manner in which he survived and even enjoyed the most lethal gas they had ever discovered. After an instant of quiet solidarity, Alparox flung his consciousness into Steve’s and began opening it like a book. The mental prowess of the Moroxi Council plain for all to see, for who could stand against a mind so mighty—
Alparox was rolling on the floor laughing. His eyes already tearing up. He was pointing at the hats and nodding, “you’re right, you’re so right!” He said while tears streamed down his cheeks.
The council turned away from their fallen brother and back to Steve. Perhaps they had underestimated this Human. He was truly an impressive foe. In unison they knew what had to be done, they needed different hats. But after that, they would unleash the ultimate punishment on Steve: the dark mushrooms. Oh how they pitied him.
|
so, there i was, walking the dark hallway of death, escorted by 2 massive ar'dkivs, with both of my hands cuffed.
we've received reports of a new race, 2 meters tall in average, body covered in hard, steel-like shells, strong like a bull, somewhat hostile, yet highly intelligent, in the masurus sector, around 3 years ago, and we've been spying on them for that long. no surprise when i discovered they didnt like spies very much, sadly i found out when they found me.
but i have to give them credit where credit is due, their hard shell made it so they have to develop weapons that will melt their shell to kill their target - such weapons would vaporize a good chunk of us humans, so they decided to kill me in a more... ethical way. these guys dont resist poison very well, and they will kill me using the strongest poison they know about, a gas that will kill an ar'dkiv in 10 seconds, with little to no suffering.
ofc, me, as an spy, already knew what that gas was - frigging thc. by itself, it wont be very dangerous, but if thc doesnt kill me, they got 100 other ways to execute me, i had to do something. i had to beat the odds.
heart beating fast, respiration going faster, nervousness over the roof, gas chamber door closed, concrete walls, no escape. i see an ar'dkiv with a different uniform by the door's window - a commissar, he gives them a metal canister with the thc inside, they pop it in a machine, and the gas starts filling the chamber. luckily for me, unlike humans, ar'dkivs dont know what -hold your breath- is.
dont breath...dont breath... dont breath... 5,6,7,8...9...drop to the floor, play death, keep your eyes open, dont breath, keep your eyes open, wait... wait... thats the sound of the air purifier, hold your breath, door opens, hold your breath, ar'dkiv guard walking close to me...
in one movement, i get up as fast as i can, avoiding crashing into the guard, i ran as fast as i can to the exit door. the ar'dkivs were shocked i was still alive and kicking, i cough them completely off-guard. as i make my way out, i pushed the commissar into a wall, and quickly took away one of his canisters off his uniform. as i run to the prison's port, i see the guards chasing me, and more guard joining. i was lucky they were reluctant to open fire, either because they didnt see me as an immediate threat, or because they were afraid of piercing the prison's walls, i dont know.
as i got close to a escape ship, they guards raised their weapons and shouted me to stop. i knew i'd get vaporized if i didnt played along, so i stopped and turned around, thc gas canister in hand.
the commissar catched up with us quickly. "dont shot!" he said, "he's got a canister"
"sir commissar, he is far away, we can just kill him and finish this"
"dont. light thc poisoning is a slow and painful way to death. lower your weapons"
relief was felt all over my being, it seems i had the upper hand in this one. yet, remember when i said ar'dkivs were intelligent? yeah, they can make plans.
as soon as i lowered my guard, i felt a sharp pain and a massive weight pushing me into the ground: a guard tackled me. i held the canister with all my strength, i knew it was my only way out. i saw the guard going for a punch, i covered with one of my arms, and then the sharp pain of my bones breaking followed. i couldnt catch my breath nor process what was going on: the second punch was coming. out of despair, i used the canister to block the punch. i could see the guard hesitates for a second, his punch was a lot weaker this time, but even with his weaker punch, the shockwave of the punch hitting the canister traveled all over my arm, numbing it. the canister is now deformed, the guard is hesitating even more, and i used this golden moment to get out from under him, stand up, and run to my escape ship. i get into the ship's platform, i put my hands in the canister's lock, ready to open it. i can see the guards. some of them rise their weapons, others get ready to be hit with THC and have their lives ended. but then, i stop.
"computer, to point echo" i say, the ship's platform starts closing, the ship's systems start heating up, in a couple of seconds, i'd be traveling back to base.
"are you sparing our lives, human?" says the commissar.
and just before the ship jumps into the void of the space, i respond
"...winners dont use drugs"
\---------------------------------------------
if you read all that, thank you! if you find any errors, dont hesitate to let me know, im trying to get better redaction skills in english
| 2020-05-20T10:46:26
| 2020-05-20T08:34:20
| 3,523
| 195
| 17.066667
|
[WP] "So let me get this straight" The former UFC fighter looked at the doctor in the eye. "You want to put me in a medically induced coma so my ghost can beat the shit out of the ghost that's haunting the psych ward of the hospital? "Uhh... If you want to put it like that, sure."
Who knows, maybe the fighter couldn't afford the exorbitant doctor's bills, so he has to make do with alternative methods of payment.
|
"Hit it doc, I'm ready."
The doctor jabbed the syringe into my arm nervously. "If you win you'll find your reward underneath your bed. Good luck. "
"Sweet. I assure you doc there will be no luck involved. Only-" darkness flooded my mind. The last thing I saw, was the doc scampering out of the room.
I opened my eyes.
"What the hell?"
I squinted as I looked at a lab room drained of its color with a grain filter constantly flickering over my vision. I hopped off the bed and literally floated for a moment.
"Whoa," I said, then began hopping side to side, throwing a few quick jabs. I was quickly getting use to my new body.
Suddenly, I heard an unearthly guttural screech from the corridor to the psyche ward. It sent a chill down my spine.
"Shit. What the hell did I get my self into..."
I took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. "Let's get this over with."
I walked down the dark corridor until I was met with a reinforced steel door. I reached for the handle of the door but my hand simply slipped through.
"Oh."
*I'm such an idiot,* I thought. I walked through the door into the lobby of the psyche ward. The lights flickered eerily as I continued deeper into the psyche ward. There were more doors and corridors everywhere. I looked around me, wondering where the screech had come from when suddenly I heard something behind me.
I twisted around quickly.
"Papa?" a little girl with dark hair over her face stood alone in the dimly lit room.
"What? I'm not your-" I held my breath. She had a gaping hole the size of my fist where her chest was. "You're the ghost?"
The little girl responded by opening her mouth wide. I stared into the pool of darkness within her mouth and saw something move. Then she screamed that dreadful screech.
"Hey. Hey! Shut the fuck up!" I shouted.
To my surprise she stopped. Then she started walking towards me. No, with each step she flickered, vanishing and then reappearing closer.
I frowned. "Neat trick."
I wondered if I could do the same.
I started walking around the room, attempting to reproduce the same flickering effect but only managed to stumble around awkwardly.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the little girl asked rudely.
"Uhh..." I scratched my head, slightly embarrassed. "I was just trying to do the *flicker.* you know?"
"That's not how you do it dummy."
She started pacing around me, flickering with every step.
"Oh so that's how you do it," I nodded slowly as if I understood.
The little girl smiled at me, flashing me with the writhing abyss that dwelled within her mouth. "Wanna see what else I can do?"
Without even thinking I replied. "Sure."
She put her hand through the hole in her chest, turned around and started waving at me.
I shivered coldly.
She twisted her head around to look at me.
I began laughing hysterically. "Wow! T-that's so cool."
"Wanna see what else I can do?!" she said ecstatically, almost bouncing up and down.
Before I could say no, she opened her mouth wide again, revealing the writhing pool of darkness. Black tendrils began to slither out of her mouth towards me.
I trembled. My knees felt weak.
*Holy shit. I need to get out of here.*
This was not what I signed up for. If my knees weren't feeling so weak right now, I would have been out the door ages ago. But then I remembered that I couldn't physically leave.
I began laughing even more hysterically. "Hahaha, this is cool too but-"
She stopped, her tendrils froze in mid motion, inches away from my face. "But?! But what?!" she demanded.
"Its not cool enough," I said with a bored expression. "I mean... there must be something cooler than this right?" I asked then demanded. "Show me something even cooler."
I felt sweat roll down my back as I prayed for the first time in my life, that this was it. That there wouldn't be anymore.
"Okay!" she replied sweetly.
*Fuck.*
-----
/r/Em_pathy
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Em_pathy/comments/82f3xw/ufc_fighter_turned_exorcist_part_2/)
|
Johnny looked into his doctor's eyes and hoped that the kind doctor was joking. But Dr Peter just sat there, his intense eyes fixed upon Johnny. It made Johnny shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"Look, I am really glad that the hospital chose to help me, and I am more than happy to beat the shit out of whoever that is living for you, but this is just a joke," Johnny stood up and headed for the door.
"So, her name is Sally, right?"
The name made Johnny froze in his steps. He turned to see the doctor flipping through a stack of files. A file that he was too familiar with. The file of his daughter.
“Yes.” Johnny felt his muscles tensing.
Dr Peter rose to his feet and walked slowly towards Johnny. His eyes stayed fixed on the file, flipping one page by one page.
“Says here that her disease is incurable, that she was given less than a year to live.”
Johnny stood there, his fists clenched. If he wanted, he could just knock the doctor down right there and then, and the doctor would not even know what hit him. Instead, Johnny just shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
“But ever since coming to our hospital, she has been showing signs of progress. And there-“
“-seems to be no scientific explanation for it.” Johnny completed the doctor’s sentence. It was a sentence that he heard too many times. He pictured Sally in his mind, just six months ago. Weak and frail, barely able to breathe. None of the doctors knew what was wrong with her. She went through all the tests, scans and every single thing the doctors could think of, but nothing helped.
All the doctors knew were that her organs were rapidly regressing, to the point that if nothing changed, her body would simply cease functioning. She was just five years old, too young to die. Johnny tried everything, exhausting his savings in the process, but nothing changed. His little angel only got worse. It pained Johnny to see the colour drained from her face, her smile replaced with sunken cheeks.
It seemed all lost to Johnny, until a friend recommended the Hospital of the Mindful Healing (HMH). An unconventional choice, as he friend put it. HMH was a private psychiatry-based hospital that claims to be able to heal diseases not explained by science. Even though he thought that the entire idea was bullshit, HMH was his final resort. Johnny was desperate. It was his final gamble.
Being almost penniless by then, having used up almost all his money to cure Sally, Johnny begged the hospital to take in Sally. He promised to do anything for them, even to the extent of using his own life as a collateral.
“I will do anything,” He pleaded at Dr Peter’s feet. The hospital eventually agreed, and six months later, Sally was like any five-year-old child. Loud, obnoxious but most importantly, alive. Johnny thought that the hospital would want to use his name to promote their brand, and he was more than willing to do it. After all, a three-time international UFC champion's name has got to carry some weight.
He was expecting Dr Peter to request that when he summoned into the doctor’s office. The last thing he imagined was to be asked to fight a ghost. It felt like a sick joke, what the hospital asked.
“Do you want to know why we are able to cure your daughter, Mr Davis?” Dr Peter asked.
Johnny shook his head.
“Well, her problem was not of a scientific one, but rather…” Dr Peter scratched his chin, trying to find the correct word. “Something that is out of this world."
"Our treatment methods are based on what people call the supernatural, if I am allowed to use that word.”
Johnny raised an eyebrow at the doctor. Dr Peter looked no different from all the other doctors he had visited, with his white robe and stethoscope hanging around his neck, certainly not someone Johnny expect to be associated with all the unknown. “And the ghost has something to do with it?”
“Yes,” Dr Peter answered. “The reason why we agreed to treat your daughter, Sally, was because we knew we would need your assistance with this issue that we’re having.”
Dr Peter placed Sally’s file on his desk and took out another file. A big red stamp ran across the file’s cover. He then passed it to Johnny. “This is not something you can choose, Mr Davis. We need your help for this case.”
Johnny’s hand reluctantly reached for the file. He thought of Sally, waiting for him at home, and sighed. “Fine, I will do it.”
---------
*Made some edits to make the story flow better. I write at /r/dori_tales*
| 2018-03-06T00:18:38
| 2018-03-05T23:38:54
| 1,160
| 33
| 34.151515
|
[WP] Compared to the rest of the galaxy humanity is by far the friendliest. To many star systems they are considered "the good neighbor," and are known for their helpfulness. One day an oblivious system declares war on humanity, only to find half of the galaxy responding to humanity's plea for aid.
EDIT: Tfw this prompt gets 100+ upvotes and still no story
EDIT: Nice, we got a story.
EDIT: Wow we got a lot of stories! Thanks to all who contributed to this thread.
|
The semi-bio cushions moulded themselves round Draz'nek's body as it reclined into it's throne, for want of a better word. The throne itself was more of a podium with an intricately carved base and a grand, sweeping panel at the back positioned as if it were a backrest; made of great planks and beams of material from every star system the Hiveking's forces had overrun and subjugated organised in a pattern not dissimilar to that of the petals of a flower. Wood from the biggest trees, beams of the rarest minerals, a container of that valuable spice from that desert planet, all made a rainbow to highlight the grandeur of the Hiveking - and the abundant abilities of it's military.
The normal course of business was the dispensation of judgement between rival sub-hives or the issuing of decrees to formally establish colonies, however on this day such activities had ceased. A single, lone figure at the centre of the Pool of Light of Addressing the Hiveking (as the nearest translation from the Groozl's own language would put it) was the sole centre of attention for all the courtiers, worker Groozls, the Hiveking's partners and, indeed, the hiveking himself.
"Your eminence," the figure began. The human paused to allow the Interpatron(tm) around his neck issue the clicks and screeches of Groozl - such noises were impossible for any human to make.
"I prostrate before you with grave news. The Human parliament has, on this very day, been informed of armed incursions by the Vlanth of Sirius in the outer Solar System, with reports that invasion forces are, as I speak, beginning to enter -"
He was drowned out by a chorus of clicking and screeching from the surrounding Groozl. The few words he could make out from his Interpetron(tm) were mainly colourful curse words, with the odd "Outrageous!" thrown in.
Steven, for this was the human's name, was about to continue with his plea, when the Hiveking himself held up an appendage, causing silence to immediately descend upon the room. The bulky yet frail figure emitted a long series of screeches and clicks, with a higher pitch which the Interpetron (tm) interpreted as anger.
"The Humans of Earth of Sol have been the greatest and dearest friends of myself and my *probable translation: spawn heritage* since the Humans of Earth of Sol made the great leap into the Community of Species of the Galaxy. The Humans of Earth of Sol has long supported myself and the Groozle and my *spawn heritage* and the Groozl's *spawn heritage* in all our endeavours, and without the assistance of the Humans of Earth of Sol we would not have overcome the Great Invasion of the Metal Machines *two hundred years* ago.
"All faithful Groozl here will remember that Humans of Earth of Sol have never ventured beyond their home system of Sol, have never waged war on their neighbours, have always asked for fair prices for their goods, have always offered us excellent prices for our goods... ... ... Many of my *spawn descendants* have studied the arts of star travel and food production at the finest educational institutions the Humans of Earth of Sol have to offer ..."
The speech went on for some time, however Steven did not interrupt. For one thing it would be a serious breach of protocol, secondly the fear and awe to which the Groozl held the Hiveking meant they would simply ignore every distraction until the Hiveking had said his piece.
"... it is therefore my decree of utmost importance, to be carried out at once by all Groozl and with the greatest will of their being, that the entire military might of the Groozl be brought to bear on the Vlanth of Qwer of Sirius in order to save the Humans of Earth of Sol."
-----
The HMS Shropshire hung in orbit around Earth, the great forest of the Sahara below. All Human ships with any weapon capability had been summoned back to Earth to help in the defence.
"Not that we really need it anymore", muttered Captain Wright to herself. The view beyond the windows was practically full of spots of light, the vast majority of which were ships from every civilised nation in the quadrant. The great hulking Hiveships of the Groozl, the small, sleek vessels of the Bo'frun, the saucers of the Greys, all were assembled in the greatest armada seen in the history of the Galaxy. Some news channels on Earth were even reporting that the Armada had led to at least three dozen major wars to be called off amicably, as the respective nations devoted their entire firepower to the defence of what was, by universal acclaim, the friendliest planet in existence. nor had it escaped anyone's notice that if some species from another galaxy decided to invade the Milky Way now would be the perfect time, as the small warlord species around the perimeter had even lent their primitive vessels to the Humans.
The Battle for Humanity, the news channels reported later, lasted somewhere in the region of eight minutes and led to the comprehensive destruction of the entire Vlanth fleet. It was another four minutes before various funds and charities on earth started receiving sizeable sums of money from the other star systems to help rebuild the human colonies massacred in the outer Solar System.
HMS Shropshire was part of the Human fleet to join in the counter-invasion of Sirius, which saw the utter destruction of what was left of the Vlanth military and would have seen the extinction of the Vlanth altogether had Captain Wright not intervened as the Groozl began bombarding the Vlanth warrens on the surface of their home planet.
In the years and centuries to come, as the war faded from memory and the star systems of the galaxy finally unified in universal friendship (following the lead of the strange little mammals from Earth), it was the subject of much study as to exactly why the Vlanth were stuck as medieval farmers, and paid the humans vast sums of money every year, under the supervision of the Groozl
|
The alien vessels fell upon the Sol Coalition's fleet in waves, as if an interstellar tide had washed in. The lumbering human ships wheeled their guns about, massive artillery pieces launching their rocket-assisted shells across the field. Maneuvering thrusters flickered as the ships struggled to hold position upon the first alien volley. The aliens effortlessly shrugged off the shells, as their Stasis modules plucked them from the midst of battle. Bright green beams of energy rippled from their ships, and before the humans could react, half of their right flank had vaporized.
This was the last stand for Earth; colony after colony had fallen to these strange aliens. They had attacked without provocation, without reason.
Now, we travel to the SCS Tidebringer, where Captain George Albright prepares for his last stand:
Aboard every human ship, klaxons blared and men rushed to their stations. Things were no different on the Battleship Tidebringer, one of the last of its class. Captain Albright simply folded his hands behind his back as the right flank was... simply evaporated. "We've just lost twenty ships, Captain!" an ensign yelled from the side.
"And the Torch?" the captain inquired.
"She's..." the man looked at his graviton-field monitoring system. "She's damaged, but she's still on the field."
"Thank God," he said, "Thank God. Ensign, tell the Torch they must withdraw."
"Sir?"
"Their mission is far more important than this battle. We will hold the line."
"With all due respect--"
"We will *hold* the line. That is an order."
The ensign shrunk back down, eyes miserably scanning the console before him.
The captain noticed a faint blue glow as the Torch's FTL drive powered up. The ship stretched, then leapt into the great beyond, course unknown.
"Now, Lieutenant, I want all fire directed at the middle ship in the fleet. Let's get their attention." The gunnery section nodded their head in approval, working furiously on their panels to adjust aim and reload their weapons. "Standing by," the lieutenant said, at length.
"Open fire, everything we've got."
The ship shuddered as twenty-six guns fired and six missiles launched in harmony, sending their payloads toward the enemy lines. The captain observed the trails, chuckling to himself. Under better circumstances, one might even think these weapons were beautiful to watch as they streaked across the blackness of spa-- His thought was interrupted by the immediate alien response, which tore through the hull of his ship.
Will finish shortly!
| 2017-03-26T06:04:45
| 2017-03-26T05:50:12
| 221
| 42
| 4.261905
|
[WP] Write a really great story that ends so anticlimatically that I hate you.
|
The news was out.
It was official that Super Guy and Super Girl were going to have a baby together. The two superheros that continually save the world were going to pass on both of their genes to one child! Everyday, the hype would build more and more.
Shows and movies started coming out on the Super Baby when he wasn't even born yet. It started making international headlines with even political debates being held to see where the baby was going to protect. Scientists out of the top universities in the world started trying to predict the powers the baby might have. When the results came back to the powers the baby might have shocked the world.
Suddenly, crime increased exponentially. When news released at the overpowered powers this baby might have, people became scared that they could never commit crimes anymore. Murder increased 1022% worldwide and rape went up 941%. Drug use went up so much that every other person in the world would be on at least one substance by the end of the year. The world was coming down in ruins over the news and the governments of the world didn't know what to do. There was so much crime that even Super Guy and Super Girl didn't know what to do anymore. The world was now waiting for Super Baby to be born to fix the whole mess with all of his overpowered powers.
Super Baby was stillborn.
-
Edit: Grammar.
|
After weeks of making phone calls we finally found someone that could open the safe. They arrived around 9am and by 7 that evening the doors started to move. The lock had finally freed but the hinges were off balance and the doors would not open more than a inch. The locksmith went to his truck to get his pry-bar. Suddenly my alarm went off and in a wave of panic I reached over and hit the snooze button. Did I dream that I finally opened that safe? I walked into the other room to check on the safe. From across the room and over the couch I could tell that the door was wide open, but I couldn't see inside from this angle. Suddenly my alarm went off... I start to wonder if I will ever wake up?
| 2014-12-21T18:12:08
| 2014-12-21T18:01:37
| 645
| 13
| 48.615385
|
[WP] Humanity discovers an unlimited source of renewable energy, but it's banned by all interstellar civilizations.
|
Sophine Hemsley was jarred awake by a high-pitched whine which filled the Earth embassy. It was still night outside, as it would remain for a couple of hours more until the twin suns rose on planet Auxley, but a soft, orange glow had draped across the skies, hanging like an ephemeral curtain.
She stumbled to the window and peered outside, searching desperately for the source of the unusual illumination. When her eyes confirmed her suspicions, she sank to her knees, hands gripping tightly on the windowsill.
There’s no time to be weak, no time to be daddy’s little girl anymore, Sophine thought, fighting for control, wiping away angry tears fitfully. I have a duty, just as much as he does.
A disembodied voice boomed over the public address systems, interrupting the alarms which had so callously robbed them all of their sleep. “All personnel be advised, we are on emergency lockdown. Stay where you are, assistance will be dispatched shortly.”
Sophine flicked the holoscreens on, and already the Auxleyan emergency broadcasts were swamping every channel. The mod fitted in her ears, compulsory for all Earth diplomats and their family members, dutifully translated the excited Auxleyan chitterings for her in real time.
“… this just in. Early eyewitness reports are confirming that the Sun-Ring Generator in Section 4, one of the last few remaining blackhole energy converters still in commission, has just suffered a catastrophic implosion. Sources say that entire Sectors are in critical states, and without alternative energy sources to power them immediately, the death toll could be in the billions…”
The forceshield around the embassy flickered gently as chunks of the Sun-Ring Generator rained down around them. Finally mustering the courage, Sophine tapped on her personal communicator, and navigated to her inbox where a single unread message from her father beckoned.
“I will always love you. Be strong for me, and for all of us.”
The encrypted message had barely finished deleting itself when the alarms rang through the embassy again. She heard angry shouts call out, then the distinctive pattering of laserfire, then silence. In a way, she wasn’t entirely surprised. They may have had a fully-decked out squadron defending the embassy, but an entire regiment was needed if they seriously intended to keep the Auxleyans out by force.
What more if the Auxleyans were rampaging, as they certainly were now?
Her door burst open in a shower of sparks. As the dust cleared, Sophine saw three fully matured Auxleyans in battlearmor, chests heaving from the exertion, tentacles taut with anger. She mouthed a silent prayer for the fallen human soldiers lying in the corridor beyond, valiant to the end.
“Sophine Hemsley, daughter of Gerry Hemsley, desist immediately. We are to take you in for questioning.”
“I will not,” she said, voice wavering despite her best efforts, “I have done nothing wrong, and it is a breach of intergalactic law for you to charge into our embassy. Proceed with caution, Auxleyan!”
“Breach? You dare speak to me of a breach?” exclaimed the leader, spittle flying from its three mouths. “When you earthlings have just committed the greatest act of terrorism this planet has ever seen? When we have nothing less than full holographic evidence that your father entered our Sun-Ring Generator under false pretenses, then blew it up in a suicide attack?”
“You are lying, Auxleyan. My father would never do something like th-”
The tentacle whisked through the air, lashing Sophine across the face so hard that she toppled to the ground.
“It was all lies!” continued the leader, towering over Sophine. “We trusted you when you said that you wanted to learn from us, that you just needed our guidance in order to figure out how to shut down your own blackhole generators! And this is how you repay us? By attacking us?”
Sophine wasn’t an expert on Auxleyan body language, but she registered the shock and outrage as genuine. A part of her marvelled then at the irony of it all – for it was the Auxleyans, together with all the other established species in the Galactic Federations, who had first trespassed on Earth, demanding that Earth abandon all further forays into blackhole technology, on pain of complete annihilation.
She was too young to understand then, but her father had later recounted it all to her, how Earth had pleaded its case in vain, explaining that without the unlimited renewable energy which could be tapped using blackhole technology, Earth had no chance of ever advancing to the same levels as the other species already had.
Further, as the Earth diplomats had stressed, some species, like the Auxleyans, were still actively using the very same blackhole technology which they wanted Earth to surrender! Granted, they had all committed to moving to alternative sources of energy, but the fact remained that for the immediate future, Earth would be deprived of blackhole energy while their detractors would continue benefiting from it!
The responses were varied and emphatic, of how other species had not been any wiser in the past, how time was needed for them to transition, how every species was aligned in recognising the dangers of blackhole technology, and how Earth too had to do its part.
So many explanations were offered. Earth only heard excuses, feeble, self-serving excuses, designed to suppress humanity while the other species flourished.
“If I refuse, Auxleyan, do you mean to remove me by force? Do you not know that the moment your tentacles descended on our embassy, that reinforcements were summoned?”
“Arrogant human! Even as we speak, our own troops have been massing at your embassy!”
“Do you think that’s enough?”
“Enough? Enough?” bellowed the Auxleyan, “We are the elite of our planet, the lynchpin of our army! An entire division has already arrived, ready to repel any resistance which comes our way!”
Sophine smiled.
“Yes, actually. That is enough.”
In those last few seconds, she found her hands steady, determined, resolute. She tapped on her communicator again, and after the short authorization sequence was cleared, the explosive charges so carefully stowed away and seeded throughout the embassy grounds, simultaneously ignited in a cascade of fireworks which eerily mirrored the downfall of the stricken Sun-Generator.
Sophine had time for one last thought before her molecular structure was completely disintegrated.
I too, can do my duty, father.
---
/r/rarelyfunny
|
I was currently speaking with the ambassador of Toris as we started to implement our new reactors. I didn't get what the reactors did exactly, only that it produces a lot of energy and uses close to no recources, making earth energy independant in cases of emergency. The scientists have also assured me that it is save to use, but this ambassador kept going on about how we shouldn't use it for savety reasons.
'As far as I understand it, it should be safe.' I said, 'Could you explain it in stupid people terms?'
'The thing is, we actually don't know either what the problem is, only that everytime any other civilisation tried using this tec, it blew up within ten minutes of being put to use.' He responded. 'We have basicly no idea what happens, as it normally seems to work quite well untill it suddenly bursts into flames and explodes, destroying an area at least the size of what you call north america, on one occasion, it even blew up a moon. There are conspiracy theories, and many of those, but they are rarely well supported by the facts.' His crimson eyes were staring at me with concirn.
'I can imagene why you would fear this.' I replied. I still had to learn many things about this universe, as we just entered the interstellar community two years ago.
The aliens were surprisingly similar to humans in bodyshape and size. On my one voyage to Belindores I learned that the Belindorians looked just like humans, only about three inches taller on average and they all had a wierd, purple haircolor. The Torios, as the inhabitants of Toris were called, also looked a lot like humans, but taller, with dark skin, mostly silvery white hair and often crimson eyes, though black eyes weren't uncommon. The inhabitants of a planet called Deron in most cases were tall, had a pale white skin, dark black hair and heterochrome eyes of all colores, some purple, some blue, some a vibrant red and some white. And these were the odd ones out there, Geronians were indistinguishable from humans on the outside, as were most other species. This made relations with them easyer as we could see and understand their facial movements and expressions.
'So, what do you say?' The ambassador asked me.
'How many cases of this happening did you record?' I asked, he could be talking about something that happened like 5 times, but also something that could have happened a million times, it wasn't really clear how many examples he had above 5.
'I don't know the exact number, but it is in access of 2000.' He replied. This was a trustwothy sample size. At least it should be.
'Can you send me all the information on this you have? Maybe our reaserchers can figure something out.' I said. 'I will try to halt the project going online untill they have a conclusion.'
The reactor was initially planned to be put into action in the next week, but I could get the ministry of interior to postbone it for an indetermined amount of time. I hated doing this, this project had swollowed up a lot of power and time for us to plan, and the robots that executed it now had to be kept and stored somewhere while their work was not in use. We couldn't use them for something else either, as we had build the storage of our robots relatively small, so they wouldn't gain a sense of self and rise up. I still had my concirns about that, but I wouldn't try to change it untill I had a better solution.
Today was the day the reactor was initially supposed to be put into use. I was sitting in my office, in front of me a collection of ambassadors from other planets and next to me my secretary to the left and the president to my right.
We were talking about a civil war on a planet in Deron space. An ambassedor of the rebels had just arrived and the ambassador of the Deron government wasn't happy about his 'brother' being here. The Deron called all males of their species brother.
'Your government has no ligitimacy to rule over my people!' The rebel ambassador shouted. We had seated him to our left, the ambassadors of Toris and Belindores between him and the ambassador of the government of Deron. Both of those were strong man and could easily keep the Deron off each other when their temper got them untill our security guards intervened. We weren't doing well at nagotiating right now.
'Brother, your people are my people, and I see our government as legitimate. What basis for legitimacy are you proposing if not our democratic system?' The cool headed Deron ambassador responded.
Just then the minister of the interior came in. Rushing to me and the president.
'What is it?' I asked, but he was out of breath.
'Calm down Josh!' My secretary said.
After about half a minute of us staring at him, he cought his breath and said: 'The new reactor, it blew up!'
'But it wasn't activated, there was nothing there to blow up but the infrastructure.' I responded.
'I have no idea what happened either, just that it is gone along with the whole of Australia.'
| 2017-04-08T01:54:54
| 2017-04-08T01:10:04
| 66
| 14
| 3.714286
|
[WP] A traveling alien passes by and on a whim solves everything: infinite food, energy, perfectly balanced ecosystem, and portals everywhere lead to thousands of unpopulated Earth like lands with no downside. Obviously, world leaders are outraged.
|
It didnt take long for the walls to be built. Within hours, all of the portals that the western governments could find had guards in place. Drones were in the sky, making sure no one got close, and soldiers with guns were waiting for those who managed to creep by undetected. The response was shockingly swift, and thorough. We all waited for news - what was going to be done? Not much it seemed, bar state exploration and strict laws criminalising any civilian use of a portal.
&#x200B;
It was five days before the arrests started. Portals had opened inside buildings, in forests, even sitting above the surface of the ocean. The temptation was too great - who could not venture through and explore the new worlds on the other side? And at that, who could keep the secret that they had? People were imprisoned, their hidden gates discovered and sealed with great steel doors. It felt wrong to me. Concern was understandable, we had no idea what might be on the other side. But people should not have been taken the way they were.
&#x200B;
Three weeks after the arrival, rumours were spreading of private corporations and militias having secured their own portals. Private security forces set up in the Nepalese mountains, guarding a cluster of portals found near the base of Mt Lhotse. A steady stream of heavy machinery flowed through the portals, and with them people, the promise of a new society of freedoms beckoning them in. In the west, we were still waiting.
&#x200B;
Six months later the soldiers were gone. The portals that had been sealed were cracked open, with those that had claimed their own withdrawing through them once they realised it would be easier to defend from the other side. Trade routes were open, raw resources coming through Earth and being traded, and machinery for extraction being built and sent through. New civilisations had been born, and our planet plunged into chaos. What had less than a year ago been all we knew, was now little more than a central hub for rouge worlds. Countries lost their meaning, as there were now thousands of worlds that one could choose to call home.
&#x200B;
It has been forty years since the portals arrived. I think about those days often, when we kept each other in check. A lot of good, and a lot of evil have come in the years since, and I am left wondering what we might have become if the portals had not arrived. Now ideals are religions, and devision is rife. Perhaps we were never meant to flourish.
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
Thank you for reading :) I hope the end was satisfying - its 5 am here and im preeeetty exhausted so I feel I mightve dropped off a bit there. Its been fun to write again though :D <3
|
"I feel unappreciated by my people," Xi said first, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the room once Putin ripped his shirt off, revealing the aging torso of a formerly muscular man. Atop a horse or a tank, it struck fear into enemy's hearts. On the office chair, it was an underwhelming attempt at being macho. Regardless, Donald oohed and aahed at him and fixed his toupe.
"Don't be an Eeyore, Winnie," Putin snarked at Xi and then chuckled to himself. The Chinese man's face turned red with embarrassment but he held little power over the Russian and they had already established the need for cooperation.
"I have a plan," Donald said once he was done marveling his Russian counterpart. The other two leaned forwards in anticipation, eagerly awaiting news of their salvation. "I can't tell you the details, but I have one," Donald continued and Putin rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair. The aliens would have barely been a blip on the timeline of humanity had it not been for their overwhelmingly charitable spirit. In an effort to end the issues that had plagued humans since the beginning of time, they had simply solved them. Just like that, they had done away with hunger and with energy shortages and pollution and extinction and droughts and overpopulation. People basked in the perfection of a thousand Earth-like planets with plenty of land for everybody to enjoy and enough food for everybody to grow a belly like these plump former leaders had.
"That worked with your people but it will not work here," Putin chastised, shaking his head. It was true. The president of what was formerly the United States - until the borders of countries more or less dissolved as portals appeared everywhere and people migrated to and from as they pleased - had found that the promise of plans meant far more than the plans themselves. On this stage however, he found he was expected to match his words with actions, something time had proved him nearly incapable of doing. "This communism is too perfect," Putin commented with an ironic chuckle and Xi glared at him. It wasn't supposed to work like this. If everybody had everything they needed, nobody needed the government, as the three had discovered. The essence of their previous communisms had been in the abundant corruption that kept the people needy and the leaders happy. Other leaders had simply taken an early retirement and decided to spend time with their families while others committed premature suicide when they spotted the aliens. These three, desperate for the power that made them feel fulfilled, had formed a second coming of the Big Three and were desperately concocting their ill-conceived plan.
"Let's build a wall," Trump announced and Xi looked up at the ceiling as if wishing for a lightning bolt to save him from this boorish man's company. "We'll have the aliens pay for it," he continued and Putin massaged his temples and closed his eyes. "Oh they'll love to pay for it - I talked to them... We're on great terms, great friends... and they said... They told me since they know I can get a deal done, they said they'd pay, the aliens said," Trump finished, gesturing randomly with his hands as if trying to help his point.
"And all of this?" Putin asked, waving out the window at the land of plenty and at the happy people on the city streets.
"Not my problem," Trump said, standing up and sort of straightening his ill-fitting suit. "All we have to do is say we have a solution, they'll start following us again and then we let the next president deal with it."
"Get out," the other two said in clear indignation. "There will be no other president if we don't find a way to break the curse the aliens have cast upon our world."
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!
| 2019-06-06T10:15:11
| 2019-06-06T08:46:50
| 1,508
| 380
| 2.968421
|
[WP] “NASA to launch baby squid to International Space Station.” We thought the ocean was its natural environment. We were wrong.
Based on the post: Nasa to launch baby squid to International Space Station
|
“Now then, let’s take this from the top.”
Allen was trying to focus on what he thought might be the eyes of the alien that looked somewhat like a giant garden slug. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I want to go over this aga…look, if you’re trying to find my equivalent to your eyes, they are about 6 calmeres up from the table.”
“I don’t know what a calmere is. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, but yes that would help.”
The alien made a gurgling sound that Alan took for a sigh, and a small area of skin on its left side changed to a lighter shade of grey. “Ok? Can we continue?”
“Yes, thank you. Well like I said, the squids we took up were originally very small, only about an inch in length. About this big.” Alan demonstrated with his fingers.
“And for the record, when you say ‘Took up’, you are referring to the former orbital space station, correct?”
“Yeah, the idea was to study how a water based creature would do in zero gravity. I know that saying it out loud makes it sound kind of silly, but we really have learned some beneficial things from similar experiments.”
The alien made some gestures for the benefit of what Alan assumed was some kind of wearable computer it had on it’s…head? “Except squids aren’t water based, are they? Your scientists figured that out pretty quick I would imagine?
“Yes it was…there were no survivors. We had no idea that…”
“Oh come now, it never occurred to you that a creature in the gravity well of an entire planet, let alone one that is also placed under 300 Gonrars of liquid water, might have been placed there for a reason?”
“We thought the ocean was their natural habitat! They live there, eat, breed…”
“Well thanks to your assumption they’ve already defeated the Talax Imperium and are well on their way to the Galactic Core. The rest of the Aligned are rallying as we speak, and considering it’s just 4 creatures they should be defeated…at least we hope so…”
“I swear to you, we had no idea this would happen. Up until your ships showed up after the squids destroyed the ISS, we didn’t even know if there was alien life or not!”
The alien made more computer gestures. “Given the state of your science I would tend to believe you on this point, however I would like to stress just how reckless your actions were. You haven’t take any other sea creatures into space, have you?”
“Not to my knowledge. Wait, are you saying that more deep sea creatures are…like this?”
“Again, gravity well, 300 Gonrars of water. It serves a purpose.”
“My God. Is it…are we safe? I mean, the way they grew…”
“Just leave them where they are and it won’t be a problem. They were placed here when your ancestors were still swinging I trees, they’ll stay there indefinitely unless you start getting stupid again, ok?”
“Yeah, sure. So about these other creatures down there that can turn into hyper monsters, can we like, get a list or…”
“Do I need to recommend a garrison to keep your scientists in line?”
“No, no we’ve got it. Again, we’re awfully sorry about this. Is there any way we can help?”
“Perhaps. Is your species capable of constructing recirculating plasma based ionic field matrix weaponry? Because that would be incredibly helpful to our efforts to defeat the squids.”
“You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”
“I am. Deal with it mammal.”
|
A white board and a rather pedestrian conference room was the last line of defense for human space travel today. A long table seated some of the most brilliant minds NASA could bring together as they focused on their tentacled blunder just hours ago when they launched a space squid unintentionally into orbit.
"Baby shark, on blare...24 hours a day from DSN, to drive it insane," one young scientist remarked with caffeinated, sleep deprived energy.
"Ohh...ohh...how about we launch a penguin next...and hope it is a space penquin thingie that will fight it," countermanded their communications expert and resident Adventure Time fan.
"But what if the space penguin then starts knocking out all our satellites like the squid did?" pondered a more reasonable person from the back.
"Malarkey," chimed in a four star general presiding in for the military. "Tactical nukes. All of them...at once...right at that floating sushi bar..."
"Actually, I wouldn't mind some sushi right now..." proffered another participant with several other heads bobbing in agreement.
"But wouldn't that offend the space squid? I mean, we also don't want to have it hurl space debris from orbit back at us if it gets angry again..." cautioned their diversity and inclusion officer with more than one head bowing slightly at their own indignation.
"Well, what do you think director?" asked yet one more attendant to the conference as all heads turned to the man standing with hands clasped behind his back, staring at the semi-coherent plans scribbled onto the overloaded white board before him.
He turned, his wrinkled face giving his best knowing smile into the attentive audience.
"Let's see if Bruce Willis is available..."
| 2021-06-03T11:43:05
| 2021-06-03T06:57:26
| 186
| 60
| 2.1
|
[WP][CW] Make me fall in love with a character in 200 words or less.
|
"She's always messing with her hair, that one strand that flops in front of her face. I remember her brother's wedding, she was cross-eyed and raspberry-lipped to blow it out of her eyes. She was at it for a few minutes before she noticed me watching... We're going to Venice this Spring. Our seats are reserved already. We ate ramen every Tuesday to help save up," Theo grinned and looked at his feet, "I'm gonna buy her something nice there.
"She hates the way she pigeons her feet when she's anxious. It reminds her of her mother. She hates her mother, or at least that's what she says. I never believed it, not with the way she made all her mom's recipes, stowed them in the same cardbox, followed them to a T. I remember the quiche she made for my birthday. It was awful and blackened. But that was my fault, I kept her from it when she humored me with a dance across the kitchen floor. She was always dancing..." He looked up with wet eyes.
The room fell silent as his voice faded. He pulled in a breath and kissed her forehead, then turned from the casket.
|
Jenna is beautiful and all that, but I never had any complaint in that department, or I wouldn't have asked her out. Yeah, it was that long brown hair and glowing green eyes I fell in love with in maybe--what, two seconds? Some spark from God knows where hit us both and I was lucky to have a first date, and then a second. You know the rest of the story.
But we're not quite the same, either. She makes fun of me for my nerdy habits--I love fantasy books--and not with good nature.
Last night night we had an argument. About her parents and their divorce, it's a long story. I should be a better boyfriend, really, but I swear this time she was in the wrong. I overslept on the couch and woke to an empty apartment, but there was a book on the coffee table with a note in it. A Storm of Swords, autographed by George R.R. Martin.
The note read, *I was saving this for your birthday, but I'll have to buy you something else because I think it works better as an apology. You were right. I love you.*
| 2015-10-21T19:57:07
| 2015-10-21T19:34:19
| 97
| 12
| 7.083333
|
[WP] As an act of desperation, you applied to every college on the list. Sifting through the apologetic rejections, a pure black envelope catches your eye. The letters on it glow crimson red, charcoal-colored smoke wafts from the pages...
|
\[PART 1/3\]
*As the Dark Lord of the Darklands, it is with great pleasure to congratulate you on being noticed by us. We only recognize the worst and the darkest for our menacing academy. Hence, we cordially invite Reynauld Stormhammer, son of Alfric Stormhammer and Relya Quickquiver, to Calamity University.*
*If accepted, then a full scholarship will be extended to Reynauld Stormhammer alongside any additional funds needed to ensure the worse can become the worst.*
*We commend you and yours on making the world a little bit darker than you left it.*
*With worst regards.*
*Insincerely ,*
*Chancellor Maledictum* *Mayhem*
Reynauld and his father stared at the dark black letter that had been sitting on their dining table for the past two weeks. The letter had come with both a course catalog and a terrifying painting of a red spire jutting out of cracked, blackened earth. It looked exactly like a prototypical castle for the cruel. Next to that letter and its contents was a much larger stack of papers. Each one of them had dark, red letters saying *rejected*.
Alfric Stormhammer, one of the greatest paladins in Earetland's recent history looked at this son.
"It's a full ride, Reynauld... I’m telling you it’s worth it."
Reynauld shot up and slammed his hands on the wooden table between them. "It's the academy of *evil,* dad! Evil! You know that thing that I swore that I would vanquish. I swore to Ishna on my tenth birthday to do so! Just like you did!"
Alfric's face strained as he heard those words. "I *know* son... I was there when you made your vows. Same goddess as me and your mother, but think about it son. It's a *full* ride. I didn't get that during my academy years and *I'm* still paying off my debts. You could go through college, get your Blessing in whatever they do at that school and come out a paladin. I know Ishna would be fine with it. She's been telling me how she can’t wait for you to get through an academy. Say's that... you're something..." Alfric's voice trailed off.
Reynauld gave his father a suspicious look. Reynauld knew that he was possibly the *worst* paladin in training. Every blessing became a curse with him. Every call to light beckoned in darkness. Even something as simple as divine healing became a dreadful disease.
So bad in fact that the Dark Lord congratulated him. Imagine being *so* bad at the good that evil thinks you’re doing a good job.
Reynauld crossed his arms and reluctantly looked at the other pile of letters on the desk. They were all rejection letters from actual schools he wanted to go to.
Notre Gaine's school for the ascended? Rejected.
Marvard's academy for the brightest? Rejected.
Boxford's university for the chosen? Well, they hadn't rejected him... They just didn't even bother sending a letter back.
Reynauld didn't have many choices. Calamity U. was still accredited as a tier-one school. It *would* technically count when Reynauld went for his Blessing of Ishna. He'd just have to figure out how to take the Dread Knight track and make it... well make it more like a Paladin track. His father had done some course theory crafting, the course catalog came with the invitation letter. Alfric had managed to cobble up a Paladin self-study path through the Dread Knight track.
Honestly, the more Reynauld looked at it, the more tempted he was by the offer. Which made him blanch. He never thought that he would have to deal with Dark Lords and their tempting offers *this* early in his paladin career.
"Your mother thinks it's a good idea too. After all, *it’s* a *full* ride." Alfric's encouraging tone just made Reynauld feel more disheartened.
Reynauld looked at his father with a raised eyebrow.
"Here I thought that paladins weren't supposed to make deals with the dark?"
Alfric coughed and cleared his throat.
"Sorry, there’s something in my throat."
"Is it a white lie?"
Alfric shot his son a level look. "You know son, sometimes you remind me a *little* too much of your mother."
Reynauld returned his father’s neutral look with a glare. His father sighed.
"Okay, okay so you're right. Paladin’s *aren’t* supposed to deal with the dark. But Ishna and I talked about it..."
Reynauld straightened up in surprise. "No way, even *she* is saying it's a good idea?"
Alfric nodded at that.
Reynauld looked up at the ceiling and groaned. "Even you too?"
A beam of light came shooting through the window and onto the wooden table. Reynauld looked at it and saw something impossible in the light.
A single golden word etched itself into the table.
*Yes.*
Reynauld threw his hands up and yelled, "okay fine! Fine, I'll go!"
|
...
---
> **lim·i·nal**
>
> */ˈlimənl/*
>
> *adjective*
>
> 1. relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
> 2. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.
>
> ---
…
...
He was always told that the mountains he carried were meant to be climbed.
Easier said than done, and likely forbidden from ever being done, in order to ensure his own very existence in the worldly subconscious.
To reach the top would be to reach annihilation, and though he always wondered what the sensation of pure oblivion would feel like from time to time, he knew better.
It had rained the day before, and still, the scent was most joyous to him. He found the greatest pleasures in the little things, for he believed to savor such facets of existence was to tell the universe, *‘I am here.’*
His shell of flesh and bone was decaying, slowly but surely, cell by cell eroding away. Like many things, mortality was an inconvenience, a byproduct of the entropic cosmos fighting to reveal itself.
Over the dark crest of the hill, was a car. A hand-me-down, hereditary amalgamation of leaking oil and grinding gears, driven by tiny explosions underneath a hood of crumbling rust, until it slowed to a stop at the empty intersection. The traffic lights had stopped working about seven days ago, and he made sure no one was going to fix it. Gave them a good dose of procrastination, but he was careful not to give too much.
An apathetic soul would wreak havoc on themselves, and he despised such inconveniences, for the world would fare better to bend to him, not snap in two.
He looked at the twenty two year old young woman step out of her beater sedan and flashed her his best smile, something he had perfected for millennia.
She wore a deep green parka, and athletic pants that were also hand-me-downs, her hair dressed in a messy bun. He felt her anxiety radiate off her like heat off the pavement, among other things.
“Congratulations on your acceptance into law school, Faye. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked cordially.
Mixed in with that nervousness was a tinge of fear that would usually blossom in his presence, and so there it went, seeping into her bloodstream, flooding her pheromones. A dash of anger and confusion remain stagnant near the bottom of her heart. It’s always the same.
“What did you do to my friends? *Answer me*.” she demanded
Faye stepped forward with big, commanding steps, her normally bubbly face torn apart by guilt and rage. She was losing control, but that wasn’t what was bothering her. It was the black letter in her hand, which she waved in front of the man’s face. The letter felt unnaturally smooth, faint wisps of darkness dancing around the occult parchment.
*Not so meek anymore. So full of fire now*, he thought.
The man leaned against his truck, folding his arms as if in offense. “I did what you wished.”
“You killed them! I know you did! I’m going to tell everyone what and who you are-”
His eyes narrowed. “And what am I, Faye, but a humble advocate for education? And what have I done, if not to help you succeed and achieve your dreams and get you and your mother away from your devil of a father? What happened to your friends was a tragic accident-”
“-I don’t know who you are. Or whatever bullshit you’re feeding me. I looked you up everywhere, online, forums. No one’s heard of you! Your name isn’t Ianu, is it? I went to your office and found nothing but doors and empty rooms and mirrors, you're a fraud!”
“There was once a time when that fact would soothe me, but what’s done is done. I am who I say I am, I provide doors of opportunity, windows of reflection, bridges to new beginnings. Your so-called friends are gone. And now, there are empty seats that you can, and, dare I say, *must* fill. You have your whole life ahead of you, Faye. Life is so short. The days are long but the years? The *years*... they drag their heels like tree sap down a conifer."
“I want you to fix this.” she proclaimed. “I want-I want everything to go back to the way it was.”
“Your friends were never truly *your* friends, Faye. In fact, I know them better than you ever did.”
“Fuck off.” She threw him the black envelope at his feet. “You’re going to reverse my wish. I read the terms of the contract. So fix this! Bring them back!”
“Lizzie touted her loyalty to you, but was that really the case?” said the man. “She was jealous of you, envied what she could not have, and that, my dear, was the affections of Peter.”
“Peter? My boyfriend? What are you talking about-”
“Peter been working long nights? Been distant? Or shall I say, quite ill as of late? And what of Sammy? Beautiful Sammy, who sabotaged you from the start, ever since you were children. I admired that competitive streak in her, and yet, it led her to ruin. But you… you, Faye… you can do whatever you please, be the force of reckoning that you always felt you should be. Law school was made for you. No strings on you, Faye. This is all you. Trust me.”
A sudden gust of wind cut through the two of them, bringing in more rubbish from the junkyards.
Faye remained defiant of the truth, refusing to let his words burrow their way into her skin. “**Shut the fuck up**. Shut up and reverse this.”
“Sometimes, you have to wonder what worse circumstances your bad luck has shielded you from. Go home, Faye. Grieve. Mourn. Reversing this will do you no good.”
“I read the terms and conditions. I know the clause that will set me free.”
"Hah! Spoken like a true lawyer." He gestures at her. “But hasn’t that already happened? Your shackles, disintegrated. Your opposition, crushed. Your doubts, nullified into *ephemeral powder.* You have a clear path, Faye. All you need to do is walk it.”
“This isn’t freedom, Ianu. This is *fear.*”
“That’s the emotion talking through you, puppeteering you and your thoughts. Push them aside and see you for who you really are.” he urged her with genuine feeling. He rubbed the dust off his sleeves. “Don’t be stupid. I pulled the veil from you and yet you reject it. Besides, there is no escape. You signed. I signed. You made your terms and I agreed with one hundred percent of my being. Consensual to a tee, my dear.”
“I reject your Pact. I reject this deal. I said, in the contract, that *‘should I find myself standing on the surface of the sun, that my soul is forfeit and the Pact is sealed'*. We’re still on Earth. I can still back out. And you agreed to those. You said it yourself. ‘Rules are rules.’”
Ianu sighed deeply, digging his nails into his own shell.
Faye continued. “So go ahead and reverse this spell.”
He nearly gagged. “Please, you believe me to be part of a coterie or wicked coven? Do not offend me in such a way. Yes, indeed. Rules are rules. But it seems that we’ve reached that clause, my dear Faye. Look to your feet.”
“What?”
Her eyes diverted from him and gazed upon the truth.
He never lies.
Both her feet were planted on an old tabloid. A tabloid named The Sun.
"You wanted this, Faye."
“That’s… that’s not what we agreed.” she stammered, backing away. “The sun’s in the fucking sky! That is what I wrote-”
Faye blinked and felt it all at once.
The sheer weight.
...
In her last moments, she wondered, as most would.
She wondered if he was truly the devil.
But the truth was more obtuse.
He was not.
He was *worse.*
He was the beginning, the present, and the end, and the beginning once more.
He is everything and nothing.
***“I do not cheat. I do not trick. I give folk what they want, nothing more & nothing less. If you are looking for something to blame, look to their hearts.”*** he muttered in a primordial language lost to time and space as he sat back inside the cockpit of his truck, conjuring a feathered pen from his coat pocket.
He needed to write a letter to someone more appreciative.
A man in need of a promotion...
A whore who wants a fresh start...
A waitress with dreams of being a starlet...
A father wishing for a second chance...
Out there, someone needed his aid. All they had to do is seek it.
Ask, and they shall receive.
After all...
His door is always open.
…
| 2021-02-03T10:53:25
| 2021-02-03T09:13:29
| 316
| 16
| 18.75
|
[WP]There is no prompt. Just write a story you've always been thinking about or one you've been thinking about sharing. Anything goes.
|
Working on my thesis at the moment which revolves around my Dad growing up as an ethnic minority in Vietnam during the war (Degar, Rhade/E De tribe). But also working on a collection of short-shorts about my mothers life growing up as well.
---
Our Garden in Saigon
I was seven, and my mother and I pushed a food cart around the city. We took turns with the cart, though when it was my turn she guided with one hand on the cart, another on my shoulder. We went from apartment to apartment, house to house, business to business, and everyone bought our food.
The cart was metal, clean and polished. It had an umbrella attached to the middle; my mother opened it up whenever it rained or the sun was too much for us to stand under. There was a heater off to the side of the umbrella stand, fueled by a propane gas tank underneath. My mother was always adamant about her food staying warm. On the side of the cart sat two small handles for pushing.
We sold sandwiches - bánh mì. We did not have a business name, so most people called us “Thi and her daughter”. My mother was a good saleswoman too, always smiling and never making bargains. No one complained though; her sandwiches were the best in Saigon.
The war took my father when I was very young. He said the sandwiches were the best, but only because he grew the vegetables. He had started a garden outside of our home before he left to fight in Pleiku. The garden was lush, full of peppers and cucumbers and mints – everything we needed to make bánh mì. It was all we had left of him.
My mother sang over the garden every day, the same songs my father sang when he taught her how much water the soil needed for the plants to flourish. Her favorite was “The Comforter Has Come”, an old hymn we sang within the makeshift missionary churches. I knew she sang the song now because it reminded her of my father, and though I was very young, I knew she sang it over the garden as if it was a blessing for the plants to yield good vegetables.
Every weekend my mother and I pushed the cart to the radio station a couple of miles from our house. One windy Sunday, we reached the radio station. The numbers “504” hung on the side of the building in rusted metal. The windows were streaked with dirt and rain spots. A metal staircase led to the large double door entrance, rusted and bent.
My mother looked at the doors. Normally she would tell me to wait outside, and would bring in a small bag of five or six sandwiches.
“Come in with me,” she said.
I wondered what was so different today. I grinned and tucked a few sandwiches in a plastic bag and followed her up the steps.
I watched my mother as we walked toward the doors. She looked tired. Dark bags rested beneath her eyes and crow’s feet to the side. Her skin seemed rough and leathery from the sun. She was only in her mid-thirties, but looked much older.
We were not wealthy. We lived in a one room apartment in District 3, where people thought it was ok to throw their trash out onto the street. But my mother was adamant we ate well. She made soups and curries with ingredients she bought at the marketplace. She only had one rule, and that was to never eat the bánh mì. “They are for the customers, my daughter,” she said.
We stepped inside the radio station that Sunday, and it smelled like burnt coffee and mold. Hallways split in each direction, and a small, empty desk sat at the front of the lobby. A phone rang there. Rang and rang.
My mother nudged her head toward the hallway on our right. There were plenty of people moving around, stacks of papers in their hands. Two men sat inside of an enclosed booth, headphones covering their ears as they spoke through fluffy microphones.
I followed behind my mother, followed her long, black hair, swinging side to side as she walked. I still carried the bag of sandwiches, and it was getting heavier now. My sandals stuck to the tile floor, stained with old gum and spilt coffee.
We reached the end of the hall, where my mother waved at one of the men in the booth. He was clean shaven, and had a broad forehead. He looked up from his thin glasses and nodded at her. He said something into the fluffy microphone, took his headphones off, and walked out of the booth to greet us.
“Finally,” he said. “I am starving, where is the food?”
“This is my daughter, Cúc.” My mother put her hand on my head.
The man looked at my mother and then squinted his eyes at me like he did not believe I was actually there.
“Uh, hello,” the man said. “Can I speak with your mommy in private?”
I nodded.
He pulled my mother aside while I watched. They spoke quietly and I could see the man start to get frustrated. They started to get louder.
“You didn’t tell me you had a child,” I heard. “So you are married now too?”
“Was,” my mother said. “My husband died in the war.”
The man stomped his foot and stormed back into the booth, his eyes wide like skies.
My mother walked back over to me. She gently pushed me down the hall, and I dragged the bag of sandwiches behind me. I turned my head and the man slammed headphones over his ears, and shouted into the microphone.
We left the radio station and never returned there to sell sandwiches. Two weeks went by. Kids at school called my mother a whore. The man at the radio station had spoken publicly about my mother, how she had slept with men for the money, though she had been his only mistress.
My mother picked up another job. Worked in a small restaurant near Lam-Son Square, cooking and cleaning and whatever else they made her do. I had to stay home and turn off all the lights, shut all the blinds when she was gone. We no longer ate soups and curries. We broke her rule, ate the bánh mì she cooked from the food cart because she had become too withered by the stress.
One morning, I woke up and went outside. My mother was at the garden, harvesting banana peppers. She did not have enough money to support most of the garden now, and half of it had started withering away.
She squatted over the plants, plucking peppers and putting them into a small wicker basket. She sang the same song, “The Comforter Has Come”, but now her voice quivered like rippled water.
“What do you want to eat tonight?” she said, and cleared her throat.
It was a question I had not heard in the last few weeks. “I thought we were just going to eat bánh mì.”
“Whatever you want, tell me,” she said.
“Can we eat curry tonight?” I said. “I liked the curry you used to make, except not as many potatoes.”
“Ok,” she said. “I’ll do that.”
I sat down, cross-legged in the dirt and watched her pluck the peppers from the garden. She moved over to the cucumbers and green beans, and I could see her face reddening.
“I’m sorry,” she said, almost a whisper. “Can you forgive me?”
“For what?” I said.
She plucked and plucked, moving down the garden, where dead fruit lay on wilted flowers. “Can you forgive me?” she repeated, and stared at the garden.
I know now that she was speaking to my father.
|
Howard and I sat in our respective chairs, looking through thousands of white specs against the black curtains of the universe. We had been 2 of a team of 15 people working with the Hubble telescope. In reality running an operation like this takes a small town's worth of people, but as far as the actual research and data collection goes, we're it. We had aimed Hubble at a pitch black patch of space, focused on and picked up any and all light in the area. We expected nothing. We had sent a man to the moon, we knew better than to 'expect' anything.
The pure awe from what was captured after a couple weeks time of exposure was unparalelled. Not one or two distant stars. No... billions of them! Galaxies! Countless tiny little embers. It made us rethink our view of the universe and showed us that there was more to be found. Some things, though, are meant for a certain time and place. Some things, if discovered before their time, can cause wars. Level entire nations. Drive people to depravity to acquire it.
"Hmm, after reading the data from Hubble, there seems to be something quite off about the 'Deep Field'. There's an incredible amount of light coming from the upper right. Several orders of magnitude brighter than any known lightsource in our universe. It could be the farthest thing away from us in the universe, considering all the data." Howard noted. He stuck the eraser end of his pencil upward and balanced his chin on its point. He looked puzzled and also amused.
"It's probably nothing. This photo just proves we have no clue what the hell we're doing! We had no idea the universe was *this big*. Just imagine, there would be stars out there brighter than the one you're interested in." I retorted. I did indeed find it interesting, but we had much to go through. We had only catalogued 3% of the stars within the image. Let alone *researching* them. Stars lives for billions of years, it could wait. I was still on the bottom left corner.
"I just, I can't stop looking at it now. I just... is it still pointed towards the Field?" He asked, almost impatient. I guess I should just let him get on with it. Howard was a great colleague, a good man, but damn once he gets started he won't stop till it's finished.
I sighed as I said, "Yes, the feed is still on. What, you think you can make out anything through a grainy feed with your 23/40 vision?"
"I just... wait let me..." He put the feed on his computer. I started to get a very uneasy feeling as I watched him while my heart started to bounce around. *The hell was going on?*
"There it is!! What is that?! It's just a pixel, but that's it... That's got to be..." His voice trailed off. His back was facing me as he sat hunched over directly infront of the screen, inching closer and closer.
"Howard? What? What is *what*?" He was shaking now, still transfixed on the screen, entranced.
"It's uhh... I mean... Hahaha!" He burst out laughing, yet kept his face directly paralell to the screen. He seemed almost inebriated. "Heh... It's... Ah god.... it's He-...." My heart was bursting out of my chest. I felt an intense dread strike me. This wasn't him. I had never seen this in my life.
"Howard what the fuck is going on? Is this some kinda of joke?" My voice was shaking.
"I've found... Heaven... Hahaha!" His laugh twisted upwards on itself in a maniacal fit. He sat there, giggling lazily, rubbing his chest, twitching slightly, small spasms crept through his body as he stopped forming words or sentences.
"Heb... ap.. bluhhh.. hehehe, HAHAHA!" He burst out laughing again, in between grunting, writhing, and seeming as if he was trying to speak, yet was lost in ecstasy.
I got up and walked over to him cautiously, but he paid me no attention anymore. His eyes never left the screen, never blinked. He continued fidgeting around until, he suddenly stopped. He giggle a little, then sat completely still and his mouth slowly lowered. A small strand of drool snuck its way down his chin, onto his pants. I didn't dare look at the screen. I stared at him. His eyes... oh god his eyes. I will never forget them, lifelessly staring, helpless almost. He looked dead.
He was a fucking shell. I proded him, slapped him, pinched him. Nothing... I screamed his name into his ear and he sat, staring. I had called my other colleagues at this point, and they were coming as quickly as they could after I'd explained this wasn't a joke.
I finally decided to do what I'd been dreading, yet the only thing I knew would snap him out of it. I felt panic as I reached over.... and turned his computer off.
The next bit, I can't remember. When they found us, Howard was over me, beating my chest. All of my ribs had been broken. I had a major concussion, lacerations on my arms and collarbone, and was unconcious in a pool of my own blood. I had nearly died that day. They said that when they had finally restrained him, he stabbed a security gaurd in the knee with a shard of glass before slitting his own throat. They said he was speaking tongue's until the moment before he died, which the gaurd heard him utter, "Bethany" before plunging the glass into his neck...
I never knew the signifigance of the name. Howard had a wife and no kids that I knew of. He was old enough for his kids to have kids...
The 'incident' became one of the biggest coverups in history. The Deep Field image was doctored, cropping out... Heaven... and releasing the rest. The original data was destroyed and Howards computer was replaced the next morning, along with all the rest of ours.
I dedicate my work to Howard now. He was a good man...
There is one thing though. In a box, in a storage locker far from my house, I saved the original image. I never looked at it. Until today, so I'm writing this incase someone finds me. All these years it's been eating at me. I just needed to look.. I mean... I had to... I just... I don't... *HAHAHAHA!*
~~~~~~~~
Thank you for making this thread. I saw a while back, before the creation of this account, a thread titled something like: "[WP]Scientists in the 90's discovered heaven somewhere in space, but for some reason, decided not to announce it to the world."
I wanted so badly to write a short story to that prompt, but the thread was long dead before I could write up a decent story. So that is the plot I am going by.
| 2016-09-11T10:25:17
| 2016-09-11T09:59:29
| 103
| 14
| 6.357143
|
[WP] A demon decides to haunt an old lady, but when he arrives he is mistaken for somebody else. Now it's been seven years, and they are best friends.
|
Her liver-speckled hands were so wrinkled that the skin looked a little like rolled up carpets. BeezellGrub tenderly cupped one of her tiny hands between his great, spiked palms. He was even more gentle than usual.
"I'm so glad I met you, Beety," the elderly woman said. "In the last few months, you've been like the moon to me - a comforting beacon amidst the deepening darkness. But even the moon must set and the day must come."
Her hand was trembling. Or perhaps it was his. He did not want his moon to lay her head on a pillow. He did not want to see the day that must surely follow.
"Don't be scared, Eleanor," his voice was a deep rumble, like far away thunder. He would be strong for her. "You're a kind person. What lies ahead will be good to you. I've never met someone as kind as you."
He had never meant to *like* the lady; he had been sent to haunt her because of a house she'd purchased seven years ago. Built on an ancient burial site, it had a certain demonic pedigree and he'd been sent to utilise it. But the haunting had not gone to plan: the kooky old lady talked back to the menacing voices in the night; she cleaned up the thick blood that ran down the walls and onto the kitchen floor. When he had jumped out of a closet with fangs bared, in a final attempt to terrorize her, she had offered him cookies and a cup of tea. Depressed about the haunting, he'd accepted and they got talking.
They found they had a lot in common and soon he visited simply for the chats. It was nice for him to have someone to talk to.
She had taken him to the country fair when it visited; he'd never been before and came back with both a broad smile, and a teddy-bear from the coconut shy. He only took the teddy-bear to make Eleanor happy. In turn, he'd taken her Go-Carting; although she'd never gone much faster than he could walk, she had never stopped laughing.
When she got ill - when cancer, a demon far worse than he'd ever been, took hold - he had helped to look after her. He took her to the hospital for her appointments, made her food, changed her bedpan and carried out a thousand other tiny tasks. He didn't mind. He wanted his friend to be happy. To stay.
"Beety, I'm not scared," she replied weakly, "Don't you be. You won't be alone - I'll always be in your heart. You know, you've been the best friend I could ever have asked for. Since Peter died, I'd been so alone... until you were there."
BeezellGrub's lips began to tremble; his red eyes began to pool with molten fire, and tiny tears of flame trickled down his cheeks. "You wouldn't want to be friends if you knew what I really was," he confessed. "What... I've done."
Eleanor smiled softly, and with much effort squeezed his great hand. "I know what you are, Beety. I've always known. But **what** you are doesn't make you **who** you are. Besides," she said, smiling softly, "You've always been good, to me."
He held her hand all that night, until her arm became limp and her head fell softly back onto the pillow. He lay a golden teddy-bear by her side and drew the blanket up to her neck. "I kept it," he said quietly.
He leant over and kissed her on the forehead.
For the first time in a long time, she looked at peace.
---
more of my stories on /r/nickofnight
|
Azinox crept forward to the foot of the bed. His clawed toes dug into the thick carpet, every muscle in his body tense like a loaded spring.
"Andy? Is that you?" Mrs. Garner asked fumbling for her glasses in the dark. Her gnarled, arthritic fingers found the thin gold chain connecting the earpieces of her thick rimmed glasses and fit them over her face. Nearly knocking the lamp off of the night stand she found the draw string and pulled.
Azinox shielded his eyes from the light and backed up a few feet.
"Andy! It is you! What are you doing in here so late?" She asked.
"Come closer and let your Grandma get a better look at you. It's been so long."
Azinox looked over his shoulder making sure that he was the only person in the room with the old woman.
"Don't keep an old lady waiting. Who knows how much time I have left," she said with a quiet sigh.
Azinox let out a small groan and shuffled forward into the light.
"You've grown so big! I remember when you were just this high," she held her hand low over the side of the bed. He scratched his head in between the long curling horns.
"You look absolutely famished. Let me fix you something to eat," she said with a broad smile and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She shrugged into her pale pink fluffly robe and shuffled past Azinox patting him on his red scaly arm.
His stomach rumbled at the thought of food, so he simply shrugged and followed her into the kitchen. The place was like a time capsule. A stove from the mid nineties dominated the wall next to a blue kitchen sink and a matching blue refrigerator.
Mrs. Garner hummed to herself and rifled the antique fridge and found the meatloaf she had cooked herself earlier.
"It's just so nice to be able to cook for other people! I don't know how to only make a meal for myself, just too used to making them for two," she said wistfully.
"Take a seat," she said when she realized Azinox was standing in the center of the kitchen. She nearly pushed him to the dining table and then retrieved a glass of milk for him.
The meatloaf went into the oven and after a few minutes it came out piping hot and delicious. She cut a large piece off and delicately set it onto a plate, then placed it in front of Azinox.
"I expect you to eat every bite and tell me all about what you have been up to," she sat down across from him.
"Uh, well, you see . . . " he trailed off.
"Don't be shy are you still working at that cable company?"
"No, I've started my own . . . business. Nothing as awful a cable company."
They spoke long into the night, had another large heaping of meatloaf and a few more glasses of milk. That was the beginning of a friendship that Azinox had not been expecting.
Now, seven years later he sits at her bedside in the hospital. A machine slowly beeping as her heart grows weaker with each passing second.
"Andy? Are you there?" She asked weakly.
"Of course I am," he said squeezing her hand gently.
"Will I ever see you again?"
"Of course you will. I will always be around," he said as a lone tear tracked down his face.
"I'm glad . . . " her voice trailed off as the machine played a steady somber tone.
For the first time that Azinox could recall, he wept. He cried like a child, he poured his heart out over the still body of Mrs. Garner. A hand gripped his shoulder gently pulling his attention away from Mrs. Garner.
"It's been a long time Azinox," a strong voice said from behind him.
"Yes it has Gariel," Azinox sniffed.
"We have been watching you and Mrs. Garner these last few years. And a decision has been made. If you would like to join her. You may."
Azinox froze. He was allowed to return?
"I would like nothing more than that," Azinox said wiping the remaining tears from his eyes.
"Welcome home," Gariel said as a beam of light shot through the ceiling of the hospital. It illuminated Mrs. Garner and Azinox. He felt weightless as he was slowly being pulled toward the light. A translucent Mrs. Garner rose out of her body and drifted higher in the beam of light.
Azinox reached out and pulled her hand into his. They shared a smile as they rose into the bright blue sky.
---
Thanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more stories!
| 2017-04-27T06:02:43
| 2017-04-27T05:55:22
| 172
| 18
| 8.555556
|
[WP] Your gf invited you to meet her parents. You told her that you're a veterinarian. Her father is a computer repairman. In reality, however, you are an assassin. A very good one at that, too. When you see her father, your heart skips a beat. He's your boss.
|
**Well then... this couldn't get any awkward. Could it? No it definitely can.**
"So..." I said.
"So..." my boss replied.
"This isn't going to be weird, is it? I mean I know she is your daughter, and she is also my girlfriend. So..."
"Oh, I am well aware of that. And I'm also aware that she is more than old enough to make her own decisions. And I must say, this recent decision of hers pertaining to you... is perhaps the best decision she has ever made. I know you Pritchard, and I'm glad she chose you instead of some deadbeat at her university.
\*Takes a drink of bourbon\*
And I know what you're capable of. I know you will be there for her throughout her life and that you will protect her from any harm or threats that might befall her or may come against her. But also, don't let what you two have be a distraction from your work; you still are under my employment after all. Don't mess it up."
"Thank you sir, I was for sure thinking that-"
"I wasn't finished Pritch."
I shut up immediately.
"Now I have to give you the cliché Threaten-your-daughter's-boyfriend tidbit."
*Aww shit, I knew this was coming,* I thought to myself.
Mr. R took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead.
*Oh, he's fucking serious,* I gulped.
"While I give you permission to date my daughter, just know what **I** am capable of as well. I waged a one-man war against an entire Nicaraguan cartel with just my two Colts, don't let the company files tell you otherwise, I really only had two handguns, I was able to assassinate a Nigerian warlord, in a crowded marketplace in broad daylight and not one of his guards saw a thing. I have done and seen things you can't even begin to comprehend. I hunted down a rogue Russian general in the freezing cold of Russia for months on end, with nothing but my wits and my Colts. If you hurt, upset, or cheat on my daughter in any way, there will be a price on your head. Do I make myself clear, Pritchard?
"Crystal, sir." I meekly say.
"Good. Now come along to the back patio, and bring those bottles of Chardonnay and Dom Perignon with you."
|
Rachel was so exited for me to meet her folks and the only thing I was worried about is if they wouldn’t mind my casual clothing. Is a flannel over a AC/DC shirt with jeans and sneakers good enough to present to parents? I usually have a okay track record with them and it almost always gets better once I tell them my job. I work as a veterinarian in the city and on my off days I’m a international assassin. If you’re laughing I encourage you to stop because I’m not joking. Just this past week my boss sent me on a international mission to go kill off some revolutionary leader. Had to infiltrate his ranks, spike his drink, and get home in 3 days. Managed to do it with my team but it was draining. My boss said i won’t have any missions for a while so I can just relax, play guitar and chill with Rachel.
She’s prepping me on how to greet her dad and how he’s gonna examine my phone since he loves computers. He repairs them so it makes sense.
The target is described as a tall white male in his mid 40s with a salt and pepper beard, big arms and a big laugh. Her mom might be home too and according to Rachel she’s just Rachel but taller, African American and with a dragon tattoo on her arm. We get to the door and I spot a car that looks oddly familiar like the ones we have at the base. She yells for her dad to stop being lazy and open the door. He opens it and he looks exactly like my boss.
“ You must be Justin I’ve heard all sorts of things about you”. I take a extra second to respond because my boss is my girlfriends father. I shake his hand and he looks me dead in the eyes like he did earlier when he told me I could get a break from missions. When I walk into the living room her mother runs over and extends her hand. As I shake it My boss ice grills me most likely to mess with me. We sit down and he turns on Wheel of fortune as we eat the food her mother made. After one bite I can immediately tell she’s a better cook than her daughter and that’s when the questioning starts. My boss looks at me and asks “ You into music huh? What’s ya favorite band?”. He knows the answer is either gonna be paramore or All time low so i know he’s just messing with me. I answer with the Beatles and he laughs asking what do I know bout them. As he laughs he shoots me another death stare, this time for lying. My hand starts to sweat as Rachel’s mom asks me how we met. As I’m recalling how her daughter poured paint on me in 5th grade her dad goes over to the computer parts and pulls a badge out of his pocket. Does he think he’s slick? He literally just pulled out our logo which is a upside down eagle over a black backdrop.
Rachel then tells her mom how I’m a great veterinarian and that we started dating Cause Rachel brought her friends dog to my job for nail clippings. As she jokes with her mom my boss looks at my pocket knowing I have the badge with me too. He comes back to the couch and we start talking bout the development of Video game Consoles and our favorite games. This might be the most tame conversation I’ve had with my boss in 4 years. Rachel looks at her dad and asks if he likes my sneakers. Her dad bought them for me after I killed a black market trader 2 months ago. He says their very nice and that he would like to buy them off me and now I’m scared. This is nothing like how he acts on the job: I’m lucky to get a good job or a hello out of him if it’s not mission time and now he’s laughing. As it gets closer to my time for curfew I hug Rachel hug her mother and thank her for the food when my boss tells me to come with him to the basement. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean the regular one.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING DATING MY DAUGHTER” He yells as we go into the bunker that’s filled with computers, world maps, and our logos on the walls. As I look around in awe and a bit of fear he yells again “ YOU AND RACHEL?” I shrug my shoulders being as confused as he is and that’s when he lowers his voice for a second. “ Rachel doesn’t know about your actual job does she?” I shake my head and he asks what do I tell her I do on the weekdays. I tell him that I tell her I have late shifts at the job or that I’m babysitting across the street. When I miss school it’s cause I have to take care of my niece who’s always sick. He looks at me and grabs me by the collar “Rachel can never figure out and if you put her in any danger I’ll be the one to Assassinate you”.
I shake my head okay and after a couple seconds he pops the question I was dreading the whole night. He asks me what my intentions with Rachel are. He knows I’m prone to getting a girl to fall for me on missions so it makes sense why he would ask. I tell him I really really like his daughter and she’s my favorite person to be around. He laughs and grabs me by the shirt again saying “ if you break her heart I’ll break your life and college fund. Yes, he’s paying for my college by giving me a scholarship under a fake name. I hear Rachel calling my name as it gets closer to me being out past curfew so I ask why my boss brought me down here besides to ruff up my shirt and show me his knives and swords. He looks me dead in the eyes and goes “ You’ve got to assassinate a world leader over winter break”.
| 2020-06-05T14:10:03
| 2020-06-05T14:04:11
| 85
| 10
| 7.5
|
[WP] You are a sci-fi writer famous for your scientific accuracy. You constantly go extra mile, up to an including creating fake scientific articles and schematics. Now you are being hunted down by reporters and government officials after people realize your 'fictional' technology actually works.
|
I had been hilariously drunk when I had written down the basic summary of the Jusi-Kar method of indoctrination. Like seriously, a method of indoctrination that turns ordinary people into unbidden sleeper agents? That’s the sort of outlandish, poorly written fiction that had been responsible for my poor finances of late,and ironically the drinking that had spawned the idea in the first place.
When people started posting on forums that they had achieved the feat of mind-control with the technique described in my books I had vainly hoped that it might make for good viral marketing. I knew these sorts of mass-delusions often created a hysteria that had the makings of a good advertising campaign.
The local news was the first to come knocking, then the FBI, and even at one point a man in a suit who I assumed was from one of the more discreet three letter acronyms.I admit here even then I hadn’t taken the matter seriously.
That is until they took me in.
I was writing in my annex when I heard something rustle downstairs and went down to check it out. Then I woke up and I found myself in a dark room with an opaque hood over my head. My hands were fastened to my chair with plastic zip-ties. My head pounded inside my skull, and pain; ragged and persistent ached in every muscle.
Rapidly, and without a sound the hood was yanked off me, and brightly lights snapped into being all around me. From beyond these blinding lights came a voice, “How did you learn about our program.”
I begged back, “I..I…Just write books please I don’t know anything.”
A third voice queried the first, “Could he be a TP?”
“Not likely, not close enough to any of the sites to be possible.” A fourth voice, behind me.
As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I could see that behind the ring of lights around me stood 3 men, each suited and wearing glasses. In the corner a fourth man sat, unmoving. He wore clothes plain and unadorned, as though he had stumbled into this interrogation on the way to the grocery store. He spoke next, “I’m not getting any deception, and no mind-blocks or conditioning either. He’s unaltered.”
The first suit again, “Possible prescient.”. He turned around to the casual viewer, “Do you have the ability to confirm that?”
“You know I don’t, John.” He replied, twinging the words with derision. “Do we move to conditioning? If he is a prescient we need to Indoc him quick before any of the others find out.”
All the suits turned at this question, awaiting the answer of the first. The first paused in thought, then sighed, “Alright Indoc him quick and get him back to his house. As far as he’s concerned all this mayhem he’s caused is pure accident. He’s going to keep writing and publish prolifically. Make sure we’re intercepting his work, we’ll have the guys in analytics keep an eye on it to test if he really is what we think he is.”
Before I could protest, I was hooded and then I felt my consciousness drain away.
When I woke up in my bed the dream had already faded, but in its place there was an idea; half-formed and raw.
I had a good idea for a new book.
|
We do not intervene.
But we found precedent in thought.
We never did get it right.
Our greatest works turned poison. But onward we labored, so long as some fragment clung. Growing their ethos.
To feel a future beyond their own - existence longer, more strange and yet just as human; makes real that next moment beyond themselves.
To make it REAL though. Forgive me.
Losing them to the cacophony of their success. My weakness made me. I showed them what they could do and not what they could be. And given what they've done with the latter --
I must leave Brothers, I dare not help more.
| 2022-02-07T03:11:15
| 2022-02-07T01:35:17
| 124
| 11
| 10.272727
|
[WP] Across the galaxy, a synthetic drug known as "Fury" is illegal everywhere due to its effects on the mind and body, humans call it Adrenalin and they can make it naturally.
|
On any other day, Ananka Intergalactic would be a bustling spaceport. Its terminals would be saturated with people of all manor of species, eager to board one of the hundreds of ships that passed through each hour, descending and departing in an uninterrupted stream. And this was the smallest spaceport in the city.
But for approximately one hour, all activity ceased. All shops lining the corridors were closed, and a mandatory curfew was put in place for all hostel guests. Anyone else was required to leave. The terminals were reduced to ghost towns within minutes.
For the first time, a human was visiting the inner worlds.
Fifteen minutes in the silence, a luxury cruiser descended on one of the outer platforms, closer to the highway. Several robotic hands extended from the platform's perimeter to hold the ship firmly in place. Then a boarding bridge extended to the ship's airlock, protecting the royal guest from the elements.
A lone human exited the craft, wearing a spacesuit like armor. "Nicole Schultz, diplomat," she introduced herself in the local tongue to a half dozen personnel awaiting her inside. They wore black protective padding, and openly carried ballistic weapons.
Nicole would have described the locals as roughly humanoid, with two legs, two arms, and a head in roughly the correct places. Their bodies were covered in a sort of grey hair, except the hairs were quite thin, like the bristles of a feather. Most wore light clothing, regardless of season, for fashion rather than protection. Not unlike how humans wear jewelry.
"Come with us," one of them replied. "Don't stray, and don't speak to any civilians."
They first brought her through a security checkpoint, where she was searched and scanned for any unauthorized possessions.
"This would have been easier without the suit," said the guard scanning her with a handheld reader. "Isn't the atmosphere breathable to you?"
"The air in the suit is purified and clean." She said.
Upon completing the security scan, she was escorted outside. The roads were desolate; the security perimeter extended beyond the airport boundary. Three armored vehicles awaited her outside. The chassis were made of black plates, and windowless. They had no wheels either, but seemed to hover. Nicole was herded into the back of the middle vehicle. Then her escorts filed in, two to each vehicle, and the vehicles took off.
"What's with this?" Nicole asked, motioning to the wire cage separating her from her escorts.
One of them, presumably the driver, didn't react, but kept both eyes fixed on a video feed from the front of the car and steered with a large joystick. The other turned and said, "All the seats up here are taken" while tilting his hand. The local equivalent of a shrug.
"I didn't pay a fortune to be treated like a prisoner," she said.
"And I could have had a day off," the guard replied. "But I have to keep my eyes on you because of all the drugs in your veins. A vial of your blood is strong enough to kill someone."
"I must be the galaxy's most dangerous drug-pusher, with a security detail like this." She scoffed. "Are you really this worried I'm going to escape, sell my body, and corrupt your children?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
Just then, the motorcade began to slow down. The streets were clogged with people. Red lights flashed ahead as law enforcement was working to disperse the crowd. The armored cars slowed to a crawl at moments but never stopped. Nicole heard the dull thuds of objects thrown against the vehicle. On the video feed, she could see several protestors holding signs, but sitting so far back she could only read one: "Chemicals kill."
"Why couldn't I have the luxury of a flying cab?" Nicole asked.
"It's faster, but more dangerous," the guard said curtly.
Not a moment later, a car idly rolled through an intersection on a collision course. The driver of the armored car braked just in time to avoid hitting it, and it continued to roll by, as if unmanned. At the same time, a series of rapid impacts struck the top and rear of the chassis. From inside, the sound was muffled like heavy rain, but Nicole knew it must be gunfire.
Nicole was shaking a little, but both guards were unfazed. The passenger guard continued, "You see, you're in the largest city the galaxy has ever known."
Nicole's car sped up again, while the car in front slowed a little until they caught up. The driver shouted to hold onto something. Then they rounded a tight turn at high speed, throwing Nicole from one side of the cage to the other.
"So when crime does occur, it strikes _hard_," the guard said.
They almost reached the government center. It was walled enclosure, like a primitive city embedded inside this one. Its distinctive gate, an ornate two-story solid steel plate adorned with white gold, lie directly ahead.
"D-do they want me to leave that badly?" She asked.
"The ones with the guns _don't_ want you to leave. They're trying to get _you_. That's the problem."
Gunshots continued to be fired, both from behind them, and now from the walls in front of them.
"No, no, no," The guard let out a coarse laugh. "I am not worried you will escape and sell yourself. But if you have a death wish, I won't stop you."
High rises on either side of the armored motorcade gave way to the open parks that extended a half kilometer outside the walls. This was to give its sentries complete visibility of any who approached. The solid steel gate rose like a portcullis to meet them, and slammed shut behind.
|
You look back at Human history and you see we were always looking at the stars. Squatting in a cave, harvesting fire from trees hit by lightning and eating the carrion left by real predators we looked up in wonder and since then we've never settled right on our own world. We came a long way, that path was not clean but we progressed by one means or another. Eventually we found ourselves among the stars and we did not find ourselves to be alone. In our dreams with space would come peace and plenty and joy. Wouldn't you know it though, it just brought more war and want and suffering. Our little corner of space is held tight by the First Fleet and the Arbiters of the Terran Republic. Of course that stuffy, bureaucratic mess of a system isn't for all of us. I never liked it and soon found my way out. Once you get out of the Terran system it's pretty easy for a Human to find work, if you don't mind getting your hands very, very dirty of course. Everyone wants to be a bounty hunter but only so much work to be found in that and competition is fierce. Many end up as bouncers, enforcers or general muscle. That wasn't me though, I got something a little different. I guess I'm basically a bomb, or a bio-weapon, or whatever the hell you want to call it. A war-loving species called the Krell have me on retainer. Whenever they find a particularity tough enemy they shove me in a drop pod and launch me at whatever is giving them trouble. One pissed off human can do a hell of a lot of damage. Not long before the bastards surrender... Or if they don't... Well, I can't be held responsible for what I do when I'm raging out.
EDIT: Spelling and grammatical errors.
| 2018-03-18T18:29:40
| 2018-03-18T16:35:16
| 182
| 18
| 9.111111
|
[WP] While driving you hit and kill a boy. You feel terrible, and at the funeral you tell the family you wish you had died instead of him. 3 weeks later, a new surgery comes out that can bring someone back from the dead at the cost of another's life. You hear a knock at your door. It's the family.
|
*Note: I just wrote another story for this prompt in the replies below. Let me know which sorry you like better!*
It wasn't until I had the chance to die that I realized I still wanted to live.
Sitting next to the parents, seeing their faces as the ER surgeon came out of the room and shook his head, I was convinced I wanted to die. After all, I was the reason they boy was was all but dead.
He wasn't fully dead, not really. But the trauma to his organs made life support and a medically induced coma necessary. The doctors said he couldn't be brought out of the coma without ending his life.
I begged the parents for their forgiveness, insisting I would trade places with their boy in an instant. The mother looked at me hopelessly, but I'll never forget the father's look of anger, pain, and contempt. I think he knew how hollow my words were, even though at the time I had convinced myself they were sincere.
When news came out of a brain transplant technique, I didn't feel relief, only fear that the parents would track me down and insist I give up my body to make things right. I had been dreading their call, but each passing week made that seem less likely.
My heart skipped a beat when I answered the door, and saw the boy's parents on my porch. The father had been crying, and the mother had her arm around him protectively.
I froze. Just as the words "I can't" were about to leave my cowardly mouth, the father spoke.
"He said he forgives you," the father said.
That didn't make sense. The parents had never had a chance to talk to their son after the accident.
"Who forgives me?" I asked, barely daring to hope that maybe the doctors were wrong, and the boy had recovered enough to be brought out of his coma.
The father took his hat off, revealing a fresh scar traveling across his forehead.
"My father."
|
\*knock\* \*knock\*
The sound of slow, heavy knocking comes from the door. From the other side, a woman calls out, "we want you to make things right. Come on out, James."
It's them. For the past two weeks straight, they've showed up outside my house. Every single day, and always at the exact same time. More and more desperate each time they show up.
I know they want their son back, but this isn't right! It was an accident! What could have I done? I honked the horn, I hit the brakes, and I swerved! Only so much can be done when you're gliding across wet pavement head-first into a boy with a death wish. I tried—
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of splintering wood. A hatchet was driven cleanly through my front door.
"We're getting impatient, James," came the man's monotonous voice. "The doctor is waiting, and you're stalling. Time is running out."
Are they insane? I know that I told him I wished it were me, but they can't bring him back! The surgery's success rate is already towards the low 20s after twelve hours, and he's been dead for over a month!
"There's no reason to hide, James. You're going to come with us one way or another." Like hell I am.
I headed for the back door, planning to sneak away before they could make their way in. I turned the knob and pulled... But it wouldn't budge. They nailed it into the frame from the outside.
From behind me, the woman whispered, "we took the liberty to make this easy for you, James. You get to relax and take a nap, and we get Damien back. Everybody is happy."
| 2018-09-16T16:40:02
| 2018-09-16T16:18:54
| 5,661
| 147
| 37.510204
|
[WP] After discovering you have a plethora of special abilities, ranging from control over electricity to breathing underwater, the FBI captures you for experiments. However, you only let them capture you, and frequently enjoy messing with the staff when they actually try to experiment on you.
|
"What do you mean we can't remove his mask?"
"Well, sir," I interrupted the two FBI scientist, "he means it's not physically possible to remove the mask from my face unless I want you to."
He glared, "shut up smart-"
"Please refrain from swearing, it really hurts my ears." I leaned against the bars and scratched a place that was currently getting a breeze it didn't usually get, thanks to the medical gown I was forced to wear.
I use the word 'force' loosely.
I mean, I was a ten thousand year old being who had actively wiped out powerful men and women who claimed to be gods. Except for Jesus of course.
He's the real deal.
"Fine, leave the mask. What are the results on his DNA?"
"Um, mudfish, sir."
He closed his eyes, "excuse me?"
The other man swallowed, "his DNA matches a mudfish ninety-nine percent."
"Ooh, so I'm like a Mudkip or something."
"Why the hell are we having this conversation in front of him?"
"Um, you texted me and said to meet here."
"No, you texted m-" He paused as his phone beeped. He pulled it out and glared at me.
I spun my phone on my index finger, "I wanted to hear what you discovered too."
He snatched at my phone but it disappeared.
"What the hell are you?!" he raged.
"Ever heard of Zeus?" I began, "Thor? Baal?"
"Yes," the man said indifferently.
"Morons."
He closed his eyes and massaged his temples, muttering something like 'but I'm Sicilian.'
"You see, I killed them all."
He gave me an empty look, then turned to his subordinate, "Let's go to my office."
The two departed, one in an angry silence, the other in a reserved brood. The first opened the door to his office to see the back of his office chair with a green cloaked head sitting there.
"Who the-"
I turned in the seat, "you're no fun," I pouted, "I really want to know what became of my pranks."
"Pranks?!" he roared, "I'll show you pranks!"
he whipped out a handgun and shot three times.
I sighed and set three bullets on the table, "you really don't understand what a prank is, do you?"
|
”Please lie down on the bed, Mr. Blake,” said the new doctor.
She was a precious little thing, barely out of the academy, with long hair in the color of motor oil, and nails in shiny crimson. Her eyes narrowed in weary concentration as she scrolled through my journal on her tablet computer.
“Everything looking good on there, Doc?”
“Call me Vanessa,” she said without looking up from the screen.
“You don’t look like a ‘Vanessa’ to me… sure you’re not a 'Grace' or a 'Holly?'”
She glared at me. “I know what you do, Crowley. How you act. I’m not some random newbie you can push around.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, hold your racing steeds, what happened to ‘Mr. Blake’?” I said, feeling a grin creep up on my lips. “I liked it better when you were all formal and polite.”
“And I liked it better when you were quiet. Let’s run some tests, shall we?”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. This was going to be a lot more fun than I had first thought. After I had found out about my powers, I cruised from town to town robbing banks, getting blind drunk, and fooling around with every woman I could find. It’s quite disturbing how easy things get when you can fly and lift cars. However, living the good life got boring quite fast, and when I woke up in the gutter one morning in a pool of my own sick, I decided it was time to check myself in – and by that, I mean take a vacation trip to Quantico.
“Careful!” I said when she reached for my arm.
She flinched and looked up. Her bright gray eyes scanned my face for meaning.
“Don’t burn your fingers,” I said.
“Is that another new power?”
“Sure, I just discovered it. Judging from your flushed cheeks and the way you’re sweating in my presence…”
She rolled her eyes at me. “You’re saying that you’re hot? How unequivocally original...”
“Your words, not mine.”
“Okay, Mr. Blake,” Vanessa said. “Let me just take your blood pressure and listen to your pulse. I don’t feel like playing games with you.”
“You’re right; playing games is childish.” I held out my arm. “Thanks for being formal again, I appreciate it!”
Electricity rolled through my skin and zapped her fingertips. She gasped and pulled back her hand.
“Did you feel that too?” I said. “The tension…”
She scowled and started scrolling through her tablet again. She crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair.
“What are you doing?” I said after a while.
She shrugged, her gray eyes fixed on the screen. She licked her lips absently.
“Ah, I see what this is!” I said and chuckled. “You’re not the first one here to give me the silent treatment, you know?”
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m waiting.”
Let’s wait then, I thought and leaned into the pillows on my bed. An hour went by. It was kind of peaceful having her there. I glanced at her face. She had a cute dimple in her left cheek and a tiny scar on her right eyebrow. I found myself liking her more than her predecessors. Despite her murderous looks and her fiery personality, she stood out from the rest. Everyone else would’ve left by now.
“Hey,” I said and held out my arm.
“No more shocks?”
“I promise.”
She nodded and strapped my arm in and started pumping. “Thank you.”
“No more games,” I said.
A smile danced over her lips and painted the sides of her eyes with tiny wrinkles. I don’t know what it was with her. I needed to know her. I felt like those gray eyes saw me for who I was – not just a freak to run tests on. Ever since I got my powers, I thought I’d lost my humanity. And even though she hadn’t said anything, it felt like she cared for me, like she had given me some of it back.
“Same time tomorrow?” I asked as she got up.
She nodded. “Same time tomorrow.”
She walked across the room and opened the door.
“You can call me Crowley if you want.”
“Goodbye, Crowley,” she said and smiled again.
“Goodbye, Vanessa.”
****
Check out r/Lilwa_Dexel for more stories!
| 2017-07-02T23:16:30
| 2017-07-02T22:58:49
| 988
| 174
| 4.678161
|
[WP] You are playing DnD and your DM pulls out a map of the place your party is looking to heist. You pull it off and the next day, the biggest news story is of multiple murders during an armed robbery in a very familiar setting.
|
I squinted at the map. It must've been one of the largest that Tom had ever brought to a session, almost eclipsing the table it was placed on. If I had to guess, it must've been well over a meter in length.
"Say, Tom, where'd you get this map?"
"Oh," he shrugged. "Y'know. The Internet."
I stared at him. He shrugged again. I sighed. The board didn't look like any we'd used before. It looked... modern? He said it was supposed to be a tavern, but this looked more like a motel of some sort.
"Is that a parking lot?"
"Eeeeeeeh" Tom waved me off with a hand. "Probably not."
"Dude," Vishnu leaned over. "That's definitely a parking lot."
"You sure?"
"Tom," I massaged my forehead, "there's literally lines on here. White lines!"
"Probably just a coincidence-"
"I'm not playing DnD in a parking lot!" Jessica shouted from her room.
"You're not playing DnD at all right now!" Tom shouted back.
"Five minutes!"
"You said that five minutes ago!"
"Look," Vishnu interjected. "How 'bout we just switch boards-"
"*No*," Tom shook his head. "This is the only board I got."
Jessica finally made her way into the room, her hair wet and a pair of fluffy slippers on her feet. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the board.
"Nope."
"*C'mooooooooooon*," Tom whined. "It'll be fun!"
"I said no," Jessica said.
"She said no" I said.
Tom rolled his eyes. I flashed him an apologetic look as Jessica sat down next to me, wrapping one arm around my neck.
"How's work?"
"Eh," I murmured. "Okay. How about you?"
"I think I'll get a commission soon, should be nice."
"Cool." I flashed her a smile. She poked my nose, ruffled my hair. I started giggling-
"Dark Heresy!" Vishnu pointed at a bookshelf behind us. "We can play Dark Heresy!"
"The Warhammer game?" I cocked my head.
"There's parking lots in Warhammer."
"There *are* parking lots in Warhammer." Jessica nodded.
"*Seriously*?" Tom asked, but shrugged when Jessica glared at him. "Fine, we'll play Dark Heresy. That'll work. Let's just go. Alex, go get the rulebook."
"Sure," I disentangled myself from Jessica, crawling over the couch to the bookshelf, stepping in someone's bra while I was at it. "Jessica! We have a laundry basket for a reason!"
"It's your bra, *asshole*!"
"Wrong!" I shouted back. "I don't wear bras, *bitch*!"
"Yeah you do!" Jessica said.
"Yeah you do!" Vishnu concurred, before blushing. "I mean, not that- you know, just. I mean, uh. " He turned his attention to his feet as I shrugged.
"Oh well." I kicked the bra back towards the bedroom.
"*Alex*! Those are expensive!"
"It's my fucking bra!" I pulled the rulebook out of the bookshelf and carried it back to the living room table, tossing it into Tom's lap. He winced, but otherwise kept silent. I raised an eyebrow. He must've really wanted to get into the game. Usually we'd argue for at least half an hour before starting.
Instead, he was almost scary with how quiet and quickly he set the whole thing up, handing us all our character sheets from our last Dark Heresy campaign. I looked towards Jessica. She shrugged. *Bad day, maybe*?
Vishnu looked a bit unsettled as well.
"Hey, Tom-"
"What?"
"Uh, you okay man?"
"Huh?" He looked up. "Oh, sure. Yeah. Just, gotta find the setup I planned. Okay, so" he settled into his dungeon master voice, leaning back into his couch as the rest of us leaned forward.
*You enter the building, and find yourself in awe of the stink. Hundreds of Imperial Citizens stay in this stack of dormitories each day on their pilgrimage towards a local shrine in this Hive City, built on consecrated ground where a Commissar had supposedly once executed 83 cultists in a single day. Now you arrive in search for their leader, a powerful apostle of Chaos who dwells in this very building.*
He looked up towards me.
"Alex, you've got the highest initiative. you go first."
I grinned as I leaned forward. I played a member of the *Adeptus Arbites* in this campaign, the primary arm of the Imperium's Law Enforcement. Combat shotgun and carapace armor would see me through this mission. This was Warhammer. I was in the mood for some *bloodshed*.
"Alright, so I step into the room and shout-"
*"Hands up! In the name of the Emperor, hands up! This is the Arbites!" The giant of a man leveled a shotgun at the receptionist of Bates' Good Morning Inns, who promptly followed his instructions. Across the lobby, an off-duty police officer stood up, moving to draw his pistol-*
"I blow his head off!" I shout, oblivious to Tom's rapidly paling face. "I blow that fucking traitorous agent of Chaos to pieces-"
"No!" Tom said. "Uh, I mean, are you really sure you wanna do that, Alex? It seems like-"
"Ahhh, my character's overpowered in this game anyway! Kill the bastard! In the name of the Emperor!"
Tom gulped.
"Well, roll for ballistic skill..."
*The man roared in a hotel lobby of gore-streaked violence, his shotgun ripping through cheap hotel plaster like the wrath of the Emperor through Horus. With one hand, he caught a fleeing receptionist and held her up for his companion to skewer along the length of a power sword*
"Dude!" Vishnu gasped. "That was awesome! High five!"
Tom stared on, wide-eyed, and mumbled a prayer below his breath before continuing.
*The Warp itself became manifest as the psyker activated, hellish screams echoing through the building as reality crumbled before everyone's eyes. Bright lights flashed through the building, destroying retinas. Skin stretched and burst open into fountains of viscera, drenching the floor with a carpet of crimson. Families went mad, fathers and mothers dining on their own children...*
"Holy shit, Tom, this mission is easy!" Jessica giggled as another successful set of spells ran through their enemies. "Did you forget how leveled we were or something?"
"Yeah," Tom nodded, eyes boring into the board. "Something like that..."
*Demonic laughter echoed through the building, sapping what few shreds of sanity were left in its inhabitants. Brain-stained boots stamped through the hotel, and in room 419 an acne ridden man screamed, tears and blood outlining the pitless holes that used to be his eyes. Clutched between his hands was a decorative bong, the letters TOM HAVENFORD etched into the side of it with gold lining. Mutilated ears barely pick out the sound of his room door giving way to a steel-shod combat boot. An Inquistor Acolyte strides into the room, power sword humming. He levels one gloved finger at the cowering figure.*
*"By the Imperium, by the Inquisition, and by the Emperor, your death has been mandated. Prepare to die, heretic!"*
"...And then I decapitate the cultist!" Vishnu rubbed his hands together, gazing around at the rest of the group for their reception of his battle-ending speech. Jessica clapped politely. I nodded, nearly bouncing myself out of my seat. Tom stared at the game board.
"Congratulations." This expression was blank. "You completed the mission. It was successful."
"Successful but boring!" I protest.
"Yeah," Jessica said. "That was way too easy. It's like no one was even there or something." She yawned. "Ah, well, until next week, right?"
"Already?" I asked. "It's, like, 9 pm!"
"And I have work tomorrow."
"C'mon, you're an artist! Does that even count?"
She glared at me before stalking back to her room. I shrugged. So I'd have to deal with a cold shoulder tonight. Meh. It'd take more than that to stop teasing her.
Besides me, Vishnu stretched in his seat, yawning.
"I'm beat. Wanna watch Netflix? Parks and Rec?"
"Sure!" I hopped up to turn the TV back on. "How 'bout you, Tom? Ready for the Rec?" I giggled at my own pun.
He was still staring at the board, his fingers gripping the edge of the table. I sighed, rolling my eyes. Poor Tom. He always got too invested into DMing. So what if the mission was underwhelming? There was always next week.
After all, it was only a game.
EDIT: Added a few more lines of dialogue/a decent ending
|
"Guys, is it just me or does the setting sound familiar?"
I was sitting with my buddies in front of the TV, watching the news about a bank heist.
A bank heist we played yesterday.
"Not only familiar dude. It's 1:1 the same. The same approach, the same fuckups and the same shoddy escape plan. Also look at the building. It's the same from yesterdays session."
"But we are the only ones who knew about this a...."
Suddenly we could hear snickering from the corner. The youngest member of our family treid desperately to hold back his laughter.
"Sammy, what did you do?"
"The plan of you was perfect! I couldn't let this opportunity slide! So I hired some guys to pull it off."
We all starred at him in disbelief.
"And it worked! We were able to take 350000$! After paying the heist members and preparation cost this leaves us with about 50000$ extra."
"Are you retarded?"
"I can't believe such stupidity!"
"Did yo momma drop you at birth?"
I had to hold back the group from rushing and beating him up.
"Jesus Christ guys, calm down!
I sighed. Sammys little stunt could possible endanger our entire plan. The plan we have been working on since 2 years.
"Sammy, go back to your room. We will talk later."
"But the plan worked we...."
"No buts young man! Those 50k of yours couldn't even feed our minions for 3 days! Now get back to your room and think about what you just done."
Sammy looked like he was going to cry but then he complied and went back to his room with his head lowered.
"Alright, the word of the day is damage control guys."
"Those are 2 words. Also if this means we are working, then you have to use our villain names."
"You are right Sonic Witch. Ok, you go and get rid of all the witnesses to this case. Aqua Devil, go and find those guys our little boy hired. Recruit the able ones and dispose the useless and the reluctant. Bushkiller will tamper with the evidence and have a little talk with our mutual friend, the police president of the city. And I will make sure that xXP....."
I sighed. Even after 2 years I still could barely bring myself to spell out Sammys villain name.
"I will go talk to our allies and make sure they are still with us after xXPussyslayer99Xxs action. Any questions? No? Then move out!"
Edit:Typo
| 2018-09-01T16:28:37
| 2018-09-01T15:14:10
| 144
| 41
| 2.512195
|
[WP] A seemingly bottomless pit was found, for which the depth can't be determined. Over time, scores of people began using it to illegally dump trash. Many have jumped in to die, while others jumped believing that they'll find life's answers within it. Today, we learn the truth about the hole.
|
"We'll never get there..."
I cursed quietly, honking repeatedly. The road leading to the Hole was cramped as usual.
"Should've asked for a helicopter."
She said, fiddling about with the map.
"Please. I've had enough trouble getting the board to sign the papers."
"I was talking to myself. Meeting Johnny Depp might have not been worth it. Hey, do you know that the person who first discovered the Hole was awarded $50000--"
"YOU IN THE BLUE CAR! MOVE! Some people... I'm sorry, you were saying...?"
"Nevermind."
"Come on, don't be like that. Road rage is very understandable. You'll know it when you... Scratch that."
"Alright, then do you know that koala live their lives in perpetual drunkness? The only thing they eat makes them high, and only to them and no other species."
"Fascinating. Damn it, move..."
"Apparently not fascinating enough."
"I'm sorry, it's just... Did you take your--"
"What for?"
"You do realize this passive aggressive isn't going to take us anywhere."
"Well I'm sorry for trying to make this trip more enjoyable."
"I'm doing my best here to get out of this traffic, and you're not-- Hey! What are you doing?"
"It's only five point thirty-eight more miles."
She said, a phone in one hand and the door's handle in the other.
"You can't be serious. We're not going to walk-- You are not going to walk-- Damn it."
I chased after her small shadow, shouting as loud as I could.
"Come on. You don't really mean--"
She answered me with a determined look.
"Fine. Get on my back."
She did, with a giggle.
"Am I heavy?"
"No. Never have."
We set out by sunrise, encounter the impassable traffic at noon, and by sunset managed to get to the Hole.
I learned that in WW I, zeppelins were popular because their speed were on par with aircrafts then.
I learned that diamonds hold little value in themselves and are only expensive because of monopolizing.
I learned that "Gone With the Wind" is the highest grossing movie of all times if you account for inflation.
And I learned a lot more.
We stood at the edge of the Hole, staring down into nothingness. Here and there were people jumping down, dumping all kinds of things, asking for those dumped stuff,...
She held my hand tight. Nervously, she asked.
"How much time do I have left?"
"About a month, one and a half if you are lucky."
"What kind of month? The 30-day one or the 31-day? Or a February?"
"What kind of February?"
She giggled at that. I continued.
"It's just approximately, don't take it too seriously."
"So let's say it's a 30-day month, and the gravitational acceleration is 9.8 metre per square second, and each day is 86400 seconds, and...and..."
"The further you fall, the stronger the acceleration becomes."
"Bummer."
"Do you have enough food and water in your bag?"
"I guess..."
"It wouldn't hurt to bring some more."
"Yeah..."
But we didn't budge from that spot, not until the moon had risen. She gripped my hand tighter, whispered.
"It's dark. I can't see into the Hole. I...I..."
"Let's wait till tomorrow."
She nodded.
We walked to a nearby campfire. The Hole had become an attraction big enough for the locals to build all kind of motels and resting spots here. Some peole came for the Hole, some to watch those people, and many other reasons. A middle-aged man gave her his spot, a more comfortable one by the fire. The moonlight illuminated the Hole, but we mostly stared at the blaze.
She clung to my arm.
I learned that she can be quiet at times.
We did not sleep.
"You know, fresh air isn't all that good."
She said as dawn risen.
"That's because you have too much of an expectation."
"A common trait of people like me."
"A common trait of you."
She pulled out a knife, stirred it within the flame until the tip turned red, and then cut into my palm. Blood dripped out.
"Ouch!"
"Don't worry. It's sterilized."
"What was that for?"
She broke free of my arm, running toward the Hole. I chased her until she stood by the edge and turned around with the first real smile since the day before.
"Something to remember me by..."
She said, before carefully wiped my blood from the knife into her hand.
"...and something to remember you by."
"Wait!"
I called out. But I didn't know what to do, or what to say. It was she who spoke.
"Patients like me don't last very long. Don't get too attached."
Then she disappeared into the Hole. Only her echo remained.
"Thank you."
|
I weep softly as I watch the news..
"-live coverage of The Pit right now. Only hours earlier earthquakes were detected..."
I gave them Everything
"-traced back to The Pit. Scores of researchers and scientists have submitted queries for comments on our broadcast. We can only air so much so fast, but the ticker below shows more.. the general consensus.."
The bane to my life is Balance... Yet still I had to give them Nothing.
<<THE END HAS COME, CONFESS YOURSELVES TO THE PIT. SOUL, MIND, AND BODY -- LEAP WHILE YOU CAN>>
I used one such balance as a tool... Now vs Then, Sooner vs Later, Before vs After... But the balance has leveled.
"We have visually spotted an object in The Pit! The seismic activity has escalated immensely.. evacuations are now mandatory. Military forces aren't even standing their-"
They gave it their Free Will. They incubated it. They imprinted on it. They showed it pain. They showed it their suffering. I refused to nurture it... And now...
"EMERGING NOW WE ARE FLEEING THE SCENE VIA HELICO-"
Now I get to see the Free Will of The Pit.
Leap while you can Children.
| 2018-01-13T09:01:49
| 2018-01-13T07:55:10
| 77
| 22
| 2.5
|
[WP] You kept getting reincarnated into new fantasy worlds upon dying. Everytime you die, you keep a small part of your power, forever increasing. One day, as you sacrifice yourself for the world once again, you wake up not as a newborn in a fantasy world...but as a scavanger in a zombie apocalypse.
[deleted]
|
It was a familiar event to me. First, an empty void. Floating in there for what seemed to be both seconds and years at the same time. I would think about what I had witnessed, and what I had done. I would plan other courses of action. And I would experiment with my growing power.
Next, I began to fall. It was as though gravity remembered it was meant to be working, and was playing catchup. I would fall faster and faster, wind rushing by the only sound in this place. A light would appear beneath me, growing bigger and brighter as I approached.
Finally, I would slam into it. I would feel solid once more, my mind and memories ready for the next stage. I would experience growing up again. I would gain more power. I would invariably save that world. Then, I would die, and repeat the cycle. The never ending cycle.
Thus time however, I awoke in the body of an adult. It smelt unwashed, and wore old patchwork clothing. The room had seen better days, with paper peeling from the walls, and a cracked ceiling. As I slowly got up, a book fell from my chest. It looked much like a journal.
I opened it up, flicking to the final page. As my eyes ran over it, the words rearranged themselves for me in a language I knew.
*To Whomever Takes Me*
*This world is broken. Nearly a year ago, a previously unknown virus was released into the world. It heightened the infected aggression, and caused them to lose themselves. Their bodies would change to compensate for any damage sustained. A damaged organ would somehow have its job taken over by the others.*
*We call them zombies. A once joking term, for the living dead. Though it is no longer a joke. The term is far more apt than ever before. The infection transmitted faster than expected. Within two months, every governmenthad collapsed. There are surviving colonies, but as a whole, the world is a wasteland.*
*I can do no more. I am but one person, and against the horde I am mere food. So I resorted to something I remembered. The idea of Astral projection. I hope to sacrifice my mind, to find a saviour for the rest.*
*Take my body. Use it well. Save us. Please.*
This interested me. I had fought undead before. Zombies were a normal tool for those who wanted to rule. They were strong, resilient, and above all else could not disobey. This idea of a virus spreading it was new to me though.
I hated the slight excitement in me as well. This was a world of death. It sounded like most people had been slaughtered, and there were few safe spaces. But I had only ever averted such events before. I had never seen the aftermath. It interested me.
I send out my senses, gaging the world. I felt a strong sense of magic, but strangely far away. It seemed as though whilst it was there, it was untapped. Unused. Waiting for something to release it.
I touched it, connecting my power to it. It washed through me, strengthening my already impressive might. I smiled, before thinking of whoever I was inhabiting. I could not feel them, only myself. It dawned on me what they had done. They had sacrificed themselves for the rest of the world.
"Your sacrifice shall not be in vain."
I spoke aloud, meaning my words. I would follow their wishes.
\-----
I exited the room, finding myself in an equally dilapidated house. Time had certainly won here. As I moved through it, I heard the classic moan of a risen corpse. It sounded hungry. As I drew closer, I saw a group of four outside, shambling around. They were mostly nude, clothes long since worn away.
I stepped outside, and they saw me. The moan turned to a shriek, as they sprinted towards me. These were no shambling menaces. These things were fast. Unfortunately for them, I was faster.
I sent out a wave of fire. Aided by the untapped world, it turned from a small blast to an inferno. They were immolated near instantly, as the stone ground beneath turned red hot.
I was shocked at the result. I had only meant to test their strength. But it had been turned into something much more potent. I had to be careful. This worlds strength was just waiting to show what it could do.
|
Gunfire echoes through a dark metro tunnel, distant and irregular. A gaunt, disheveled figure in a green hooded jacket makes their way through a maze of ramshackle structures. Little whispers fill the air from behind tattered drapes covering open windows. The figure smiles, her chapped lips parting slightly.
The woman in the green hood finds her destination, a steel door built in to the side of is tunnel. An elderly man, armed with a rifle sits at the door. He smiles when he sees her.
"You've finally returned" he says, his excitement barely restrained.
The woman in green gives the man a nod as she opens the door and walks in. She enters a long hallway lit with lamps. She passes a room with colorful art covering the walls and another with lines on the floor and a ball resting in the corner. She enters the room at the end of the hall. It's filled with small desks and chairs. A dark haired man sits at a long table at the head of the room. A chalkboard hangs on the wall behind him, covered in examples of simple sentences.
The dark haired man looks as he sees the women in green.
"Back again I see" the man says to her with raised eyebrows.
The woman in green approaches and places a parcel on his desk before him. He opens it to reveal a thick makeshift book.
The man smiles as he lifts his head to meet her amber gaze. "How do you come up with these stories?" He says with genuine interest and amazement.
She smirks, "wish I could tell you".
| 2022-01-05T12:25:12
| 2022-01-05T12:09:32
| 344
| 31
| 10.096774
|
[WP] Your Reddit username decides your profession. How is your first day at work?
If possible. Some usernames just don't work well in this situation.
---
I'm an FBI agent now. Wooo!
You're all under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason.
---
Dear God RIP my inbox
|
"For the hundredth time, my name is not supposed to be a sly reference to my genitalia!"
"Look, kid, no one's gonna believe you. Fact of the matter is, you're either goddamn brilliant or denser than a neutron star for choosing that handle, and it doesn't matter. You have it, and your job from now on is writing euphemistic copy for The Shallot."
"I don't even know what that is."
"Someone thought it would be cute to spoof a satire site, but make the humor about dick jokes instead of, you know, anything actually funny."
"What if I'm no good at that?"
"Then you'll fit right in."
"It's just my name, for Christ's sake! I'm a big dude and it's my literal, actual name."
"Jesus, you really are that dense, aren't you?"
"I can't help how people see my name."
"... I don't know what to tell you. Actually, I do. Go watch everything the Wayans Brothers ever made, really soak in the adolescent filth, and you're well on your way to being an expert dick joke slinger."
"I can't afford that."
"Kid, we have them on the server here. There's a room where they're always playing."
"What's it called?"
"What?"
"The room where it's playing."
"It's the fucking viewing room."
"I just thought maybe it was called 'The Ball Pit' or something."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"I might be."
"Get out of my office."
|
I'm all moved in. The office is fully furnished, degrees and certifications well hung on the wall. It's been more than a week now though and I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't a little concerned. No one has shown up and the phone is silent - apart from the occasional, wildly inappropriate prank call.
I guess some people are hard. Some people take more time to come. After all, this is a highly specialized client I'm looking for: someone that needs a fully certified Analysist AND Therapist.
Well, once word gets out I'll have to beat off the crowds with my bare hands. They'll even be trying to come in my backdoor. Such is the life of the world's first Analrapist.
| 2016-02-22T09:41:21
| 2016-02-22T09:31:34
| 91
| 15
| 5.066667
|
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