I'll write you a story



(Hard Mode: Listen to this song on repeat while reading this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exbmO1uDMbM )

Although I didn't want to admit it, I was really starting to feel old. My legs were trembling, muscles sore and on the brink of collapsing me into the nearby snowbank on the side of the road. I barely held on and stood up straight, balancing my skis on my right shoulder and booths on the left, tied to together swiftly as I had run for the last ski bus off the mountain - just a moment too late. So, there I was, waiting for any ride to hop on, anyone to help me out in my slightly dire situation. I could always call Todd, but he was a dick and we weren't talking right now, so I was stranded for the time being, helpless amidst the quickly darkening mountain road, thumb hanging in the air for a reliable rescue.

After three hours of slowly walking down the curving roadside, and no vehicles passing me by, I was starting to feel cold as the wind blew through me with staggering speeds, creating whirls that snuck under even my jacket and causing me to mime an icicle. After another hour, with my arms becoming weary of carrying my gear while holding up my arm, I caught a small glimpse of light ahead, just a few hundred meters into the next forest section of the downhill valley. It was a yellow glint, bouncing softly of the cloudy, moonlit sky. I inched towards it slowly but surely, as my eyes were beginnign to crawl. I read the letters on the black and yellow plack:

"DETUUR, TO THA CITEY, ON THA RAIGHT, WIF MOTEEL, YALL WELLCOME NOUW"

I looked right, and I saw nothing at all. Just a thick, empty-looking forest and its deep, dark reaches. Slightly shivering not from fatigue or the cold, but the thought of the night-covered trees, he shuddered at the thought and was about to continue his hitchhiking slash walking marathon attempt. However, he peered to his left, and saw a snowy dirt road, covered in fresh tracks from big cars, trucks with a lot of troque. He smiled wamrly inside as he could see some lights over yonder on the left side, emanating from the vehicles he saw through his mind's eye and he ran towards them, hopping sluggishly with gear on hand to the left route on the other side.

At that moment, Harold Dunner, the owner of the Birch Side Inn peered into the darkness, eyeing movement near his sign, but couldn't make anything out as he did a few moments ago from behind his curtains.

"Tina, dear! Tina! ...TINA!"

His wife ran up the stairs in her nightgown, seeming a bit agitated.

"What is it now, Harold?"

He squinted into the darkness, almost making out a shape near his detour sign directing lone visitors to his four star motel.

"Honey... dear... did you put up the sign today?"

She looked a bit flustered, but answered determinely.

"Ahh diid!"

Harold smirked precariously.

"...was it the sign I wrote or the one you... wrote?"

His wife thought for but a moment. "..mah sign, hun!"

"Hmm... okay then, but did you also plow the driveway through the birches so that visitors would see the entryway clearly?"

She lowered her head in shame, and he knew the answer, turning back to the darkness and thinking about his nieghbours on the other side of the road.

"Honey... would you be so kind to prepare the rifle for me?"

I was following the tire tracks, leading me quicker and further down the mountainside than by walking on the road. The weight on my shoulders and back was becmoing heavier - I hadn't eaten for 12 hours now. The light shining in the darkness didn't seem to come closer no matter how fast I walked through the snowy trail, stumbling as I did, until it was suddenly before me. A large Chevy truck, azure in color, was running in place, facing me. I creeped closer and saw that there was no one inside, but the lights were on, the engine was humming and the keys were in the ignition. The doors I didn't try even though I felt a bit desperate, but I could here some kind of country music playing on the radio, mellowing me out a bit. Now I just had to find the driver and ask for a lift into town. Awesome.

I continued down and saw another trail behind the car, running down the steeper and darker small hill. I slid down with my shoes, which were definitely not made for trodding through fresh snow, when I saw something that looked like a... corpse. A fawn, maybe? Resembling Bambi, it was thrown on the side of the road in the bank, having slid a bit down the steep hill, leaving a long trail of blood and guts hanging behind it. I felt a bit thrown off by this, combined with my hunger and tiredness, after a full day of skiing in the sun, blazing, forgetting to eat or drink, feeling dehydrated, I swung on and off from reality at points, seeing white lights dangling before me, as I felt like the whole spun around me, and I fell forwards, sliding down the hill as I felt the world closing over me as I fainted into another world.

Harold was a man of character and principles. He carried the sign he had detailed himself, with clearly and correctly written English, knocking down his wife's attempt and placing his own on the plack on the side of the road. He sighed, looking at the foot prints in the snow, leading to his... interesting neighbours' property. Determined, he cranked his back, letting out an agonizing sounding crack and heaving over himself from the combination of pain and the following relief. He checked his pocket for shells and that the rifle was readied properly by his dearest, and walked over the mountain road to the other side.

I felt a bit weary, feeling blood dripping down my face as I saw my skis in front of me, probably my edges had cut me when I fell. Almost heaving at first, I saw another pair of lights at the end of the short looking road at the bottom if the hill I had slid down on. My coat was bloody, and I saw the fawn I had brought down with me by accident, stainining my clothers for good, I thought. I grabbed my gear and walked toward the lights and small sounds I heard from their direction.

I came to a small opening in the forestry hill side, plateauing on the spot where I saw another large truck, crimson, with its lights pointing in the other direction. That's when I saw the two men near a large metallic pot under the birch trees. There was a small smoke billowing from the large canister, and fire under it, with small tubing running across its side but not touching it, carrying some kind of bubbles and dripping through a smaller nozzle at the bottom, which one of the men squeezed shut while opening a valve under it, emptying some kind of liquid into a plastic cup held by the other man, dressed in bright blue overalls in the middle of winter, and nothing else. The cup was offered to the man clad in red overalls, and they spoke:

"....aaaaaaahhhhhhhh. Now that's some fucking moonshine right there. ...wanna taste, dick?"

"No, ass, keep it to yourself. If it ends up killing you or one of our beloved customers, then so be it, but I ain't touching that shit even with the longest straw available. Illegal as it is. Wait!"

My boots had dropped from my shoulder, hitting the snow with a loud crunch in the cold night, and they were alerted to my presence. I stood up into the small shade of light bouncig of the snow illuminated by the truck's headlights.

"Ummm, hi! Sorry to bother you guys, but I'm in a bit of a predicament here... I'm trying to find my way back to town, I'm a skier, you see... Heh heh... and I fucked up, you know, haha, I missed my last ride you know and I..."

As I was explaining the situation, feeling my heart beating a bit faster than normal, I saw them come closer to me, surrounding me on both sides, closing the valve on the moonshine pot before approaching me. The blue one walked over to me and all of a sudden pulled a knife on me! I had no time to react, my reflexes, my body, everything was numb as I felt a blade dig in through my clothes, hurting like hell.

"GAHHHhhhh,.....:"..:.:"

The red one walked over, nodding the blue one to take the blade out of my stomach area, dropping me to the ground as I struggled to breathe. I looked up and the red one looked at me, then the fawn I had dragged behind, and scoffed.

"Man... you could have been our client, you know, living in town, if you're not a tourist, is all. But this is some hardcore ATF shit we are running here, and no one, and I mean no one can see what's going on in this lot. Dan, get me the gun, the H&K, with the silencer."

The blue one went to the truck, rummaging through the glove compartment. "Are you sure it's here and not in the Chevy?"

The red one shouted. "Of course I'm fucking sure, just put on some lights, you idiot!"

While he kept rummaging and the man standing above me without a weapon looked at his friend, I could breathe again, and I could feel, slowly sliding my left hand up my jacket, that my Under Armour stomach plate wasn't cracked, there was no blood, no stab wound. I knew it was now or never. I was just about to get up when I saw the silencer pistol fly through the air.

"Take it, Jay!"

Caught by the man standing above me, sliding a bullet into the chamber and removing the safety, he pointed the barrel in my face.

"Here's to you in another world."

I closed my eyes.

BANG

A shot rang in the night, and the man before me flew backwards. I sprinted up, and saw an old-looking man standing at the top of the hill, with a smoking rifle aimed towards us.

"Run, kid!"

I left my skis and boots, sorry, I'm so sorry, I loved you, and ran into his direction up the hill. I could hear loud swears, something about "that old fuck", and I felt bullets fly past me, hitting the snow as silently as they left the silenced barrel. I ran up, only to catch the arm of the weary looking man before me, nodding as we went, running to the truck. We heard the other car start beneath us down the hill, and the man looked at me fiercely, relaoding his blot-action rifle.

"They know where I live, i can't risk my wife or any other guests! Get in the car, drive, now!"

I hopped into the driver's seat, seeing that the keys were in the ignition, hearing the mellow country song echo about cows, bulls and lonely nights on the plains, as I heard the man shut the door and floored it.

"The name's Harold. Don't you forget it, boy."

"I won't, sir. Than--"

"Just drive."

I turned left down the mountain road as I heard the moonshiners' truck climb behind us, and blasts blaring in the night. They had removed the silencer.

Harold spoke. "It's for better accuracy. Try to drive steady now, and down make any sudden slips, ya hear?"

I nodded as he hopped in the back, nimbly for what I assumed was his age, and he kicked the back window, breaking it away as it flew into the dark night, shining for a second in our followers', our possible killers' headlights. I looked in the rear view mirror, and saw Harold take an aim on the backseat's neck rest.

"Steady now."

I was swerving like crazy from the fear and panic,, but tried to keep the car on a good path.

"Don't rock it now."

I could feel blasts hitting the sideview mirror and the circuitry of the dashboard, shortcircuiting the diesel truck's horn and it blared loudly in the cold, winter night, unstoppably. Harold sounded agitated.

"...Jeeesh... of course the horn goes on tilt... Steady noooow."

I could see the blue one brandish a pistol, hand hanging out from the side windows emptying his clip towards us, only missing by a slight margin as they were gaining on us.

"Kid!"

"Yeah!?"

"When I say 'brake', you jump on the brake, you hear me!?"

"I hear you!"

"Steady nooooow...... BRAKE!"

I slammed the brake and clutch down as hard as I could in my state of mind and body, as I heard Harold exhaling, and launching his shot. BLAOW. It rang in the night, and I saw that it connected. The red one, who had been driving, was clipped in his head, possibly killing him instantly as he slumped on the wheel and pedaled on the gas. As I slowed down due to braking, they swung past us, with the man in the blue overalls reaching over from his window, still trying to get a bead on us through furious motions, before launching with immense speed of the mountain road, and disapperaing into the night below, never to be seen or heard again. I put the signal on the left and stopped on the side of the road, still barely alive after all that happened.

Harold jump in the front, leaving the rifle in the back.

"What a fucking nuisance, those brats."

I looked at him as if I had seen the savior.

"Thank you... Harold. I don't know what much else to say."

Harold looked at me, peering deep into my eyes, and looking at my overall visage.

"You were looking for a ride to town, yes? Or a place to spend the night?"

I sighed in relief.

"Yes, actually I..."

Harold laughed.

"Ahahaha, I don't really care, kid. Let's just say you owe me two nights and three dinners at my motel. Not a bad price to pay for saving your life, no?"

I felt shocked by this, but answered immediately.

"Sure... whatever you say, Harold."

I turned the car around in his pointed direction, when I came to the sign in the small intersection, with turns both left and right. I saw the motel now, a vestige of safety in the forest, but then I looked to the right, drinking of the fawn, the hillbillies' brew and their secret activities.

"Hey, Harold?"

"Hmmm?"

"...you woudln't mind a drink, would you?"

 
Write me a story about how shit got turned upside down and you'd like to take a minute to sit right there and tell me how you became the prince of a town called bel-air !
 
you're sick of living a static existence, same job, same friends, same girl, same life, nothing ever changes. you're fed up, you need to experience life. you buy an old station wagon, and start to drive.
 


"You think... you think you'll get away with this..!?"

Prometheus shouted at me, but I pretended not to have heard it, just to irk him a bit more.

"You may be mighty, but you are a sheep! But a sheep!"

I squeezed my right fist tightly, as it gathered the particles from the stormy clouds above into my hold, forming a glaring spear of pure energy. I glanced up into the skies, seeing my fellow Gods looking down, waiting to sneer at me if I showed any signs of weakness. I quickly turned around to face the thief, throwing the bolt with literal lighting speed towards him.

The thunder struck Prometheus in his freshly clawed-open wound, cauterizing it shut before he had time to bleed to death before the sun would set behind the rock he was shackled on. I boomed my at his being.

"Today is a special one for you - the wound is shut, and you will not die in mere hours. No, you shall suffer throughout the whole night this time. Maybe that will teach you to curse my name again! Pathetic."

Prometheus began crying in agony and I sprinted across the sky in the form of light, pure speed and descended on my throne on Mount Olympos. After the mortal wench had finished sucking me off, I rose up and walked to the edge of my residence, just to see how he was suffering. However, as the sun was setting and the orange glow whipped the green Earth beneath me, I saw something I hadn't witnessed in a long, long time.

Snow.

The beams of Apollo riding above me lit the side of Olympos, a side I hadn't looked at for millenia past. Whiteness littered the stranded rock-formations, steep as they came. I suddenly imagined myself riding the white miracle in lighting form, causing avalanches to ripple down the unbelievably high mountain walls. I teleported into my study in flash.

As a God, I could see the future, but due to the disturbance of Christianity rising ever popular in the kingdom, the powers of all us Gods were starting to fade. I focused all my strength on the snow and any matter of completing my vision of sliding down them, and the world shrank and twisted around me. The shackles of time were coming loose, and I could feel Athena striding towards my study to scold me, but I banned her entry with a wall of bolts just in the nick of time, nearly passing out as smoke filled the foyer.

I had passed out, a mighty being as myself - the waves of time were a wondrous thing, to say the least, one of the few things out of my control. I thought of how I pushed my son to fight the Hydra, just out of spite and boredom and wished I could take all I did back. just as I was thinking of him, the fourth dimension flickered before me, and something appeared, dropping on the ground with a large pang. It was a stack of some kind of papyrus, written in one of the possible futuristic languages I had seen earlier in my time seeks. English? That couldn't be right... Romans were conquering the world, maybe this was an anomaly from another strand of fate and time.

It was some kind of guide, how to build one's own... ski... press? It was penned by a seemingly respected and mighty author, named Iggyskier. I walked back to my throne, passing the scowling Athena with a shrug and called my universal engineers to my room. They saw the instructions and asked me to lend them my power to create this... ski, that would help me to conquer the snowy mountain below. I released my power with all of my might, nearly exploding the demi-god engineers, but they took it like the former Spratans they were and were on their way. I laid back on my throne, crossed my arms, and waited.

The sun rose and Prometheus' stomach was clawed open by the eagle that was a part of my being, and I woke up. It made me think of some other way to know when to wake up - I seared an idea of a waking up device on my room's wall with a blinding flash of lightning and got up. After the morning orgy, my head engineer hurried to me. They had completed their tasks, and he asked me to follow. I grabbed him by the shoulder and flew through space as he explained. They had read the manuscirpt and discovered the need for other equipment and completed them as well - some things called boots, binding and poles. We arrived at The Forge.

They bowed down as we arrived, having placed the things on separate pedestals. I approached each of them, imbuing my ultimate power even deeper into the finished products. At each object I thrust my hand toward the produce of my mighty forge, and struck my blue lightning at them with all my power.

The poles - Mithril Wands - glowed green in the sunrise.

The bindings - Hermes' Wings - fluttered softly in the wind.

The boots - Full Walnuts - embraced the air around them with grace and elegance.

That was when I saw the skis. Two identical pieces of... I did not know what. I tried to analyze them with my senses, but my own power was reflecting back at me. These were truly the creation of a miracle and an unimaginable power.

The skis - The AR5 - glistened softly in the rising Apollo's rays, the light mirroring into my eyes from their glossy surface. A truly magnificent sight.

They informed me how to use this equipment, and I promptly thanked them by teleporting them to a hundred year orgy. I grabbed the poles, strapped in the boots, clicked into the bindings now attached to the godly skis - and I imagined myself at the edge of Mount Olympos. A flash.

I could feel the snow beneath me. Surely a substance I had never felt before nor even calmored for. What had driven me here today? This was a cold atmosphere, the freezing winds were chilling even my godly being through the strength of Olympos. I was a man of summer and sun, a man of storms and the skies, a true God of the miracle of the world high above humans, surrounding us. Why snow? Why now? I could feel the sharp edges of these skis gripping into the tight pack underneath me, my poles' baskets holding me up and balanced while I felt my feet become one with the perfectly fitting boots. I was a God.

I was a God. I was. Immortal.

Yet I felt fear.

I looked down the sheer rock face, gusts blowing and lifting the snow, playfully but ominously, making me want to bring down a sheer snowstorm on myself right now, just to make this new experience even better, deeper. I saw Prometheus with my mind's eye. Writhing in pain, on the throes of death. He suffered because he was brave, because he felt no fear of us gods. He defied us.

Yet I felt fear.

I would show him that I was truly a God, one to be reckoned with. A puny Titan could not be better than the ultimate God. I swallowed my own pride, feeling stronger and more powerful than any being ever, large or small, omnipotent or worthless - I felt one with the world for the first time, and slid down the mountain face before me.

Prometheus couldn't breathe, once again at death's door, but he looked up at the snowy mountain above him. One day, he thought.

One day he would be set free, and the flame he stole, now burning in his heart, giving humans their ability to take control over the gods little by little. He glanced at the peak as snow was starting fall from a large cloud above him. He caught one flake on his tongue and drew his last breath for the day.

One day...

 


Ever since I was a kid, I thought I understood the world around me. Since I was a little toddler, seriously. You could probably say that I was either smarter or just developed faster than other kids. I had a clear grasp on the world that span around me, the universe growing ever faster and expanding all of our multiple possible worlds at an amazing speed, impossible to actually witness with modern human scientific equipment. That's why it felt very weird when it happened.

My whole world got turned upside down. Or so I thought.

I reeled on my back, nearly having broken my neck from the sudden few meter flight, or fall - into my room's ceiling. I went to the door and reached down to open it and climbed through. I ran into my mother in the hallway. She was still seemingly physically grounded on the other, real level. However, her mental state flew out the window as she escpaed the shight of me, her son, standing upside down on the ceiling, looking cynical as ever. Life was not going to be easy here on the isles outside Cyprus.

I went back to my room, still wondering why and how this happened, and tried to grab a hold of my laptop. To my surprise, it seemed that whatever I touched with my right hand also cahnged its... polarity somehow. The laptop now "fell" into my hands on the roof. The Wi-Fi seemed to work upside down, and I devised a plan to make the best of this.

After only a good hour of research both into the impropability of my situation in the sense of physics and the real world, I found a forum called "Upside Down Princes". It was a site for discussion of other people whose polarity had somehow changed. Some of them seemed intelligent, more than the others at least, but even after years of consultation with known physicists, they hadn't been able to get rid of the situation. In fact, they had begun to make the best of it. They told me and others like me to take a simple test - The Reverse Test.

It seemed that for some reason those who were struck with this condition, suffered from it at every place in the world - causing permanent threats of flying off into space if they entered any open space. Many had lost their lives. But one man, called Morpheus, had figured out a way to counter the effects of this state. One stricken by this phenomenon had to travel to the opposite side of the Earth from where they had been "infected", as they said. I jumped towards my map globe, grazing it, and it flew with me up to the ceiling. I marked my home with an X, and span the globe around...

I saw my destination.

I exited the airport, looking quite suspicious. I was wearing a large amount of steel, metal and iron on my body, not to mention the heavy adamantium suitcase tied to my left foot. My parents had ran away from me, the freak I was, but with the help of the Yellow Press, by selling them my story, and the Princes from other parts of the world, I coudl afford to transport my floaty being safely across the regular ground without rocketing into space and asphyxiating instantly.

It wasn't a perfect cure, though. As Morpheus had explained from his Russian mansion, the spot on the other side would have to be a large residence, otherwise the magnetic draw could still permiate a smaller apartment and reverse its polarity as well. But a large enough house, on the nearly exact coordinates across the globe - that would be enough. I had already contacted the owners. They sounded like a very nice family, a father who was a a judge, with a beautiful wife, a son and a daughter. They even had a butler, which I didn't mind for, but alas - it was to be the place to spend the rest of my life in. I exited the terminal and the California sun hit me in the face.

I whistled for a cab and when I came near. The license plate read 'Fresh'. Kind of tacky, but he also had dice in the mirror. Tackier. If anything I could say that the cab was quite unusual, but I thought it was nothing compared to what I had gone through, and asked him to take me to my new home - to Bel Air.

I pulled up to the house in the evening, I nodded to the driver, who had been kind to me and waved him off with a smile. I looked at the house before me, holding onto the weight - I was finally there. Soon, I would be able to sit down and relax. To feel the real heaviness of gravity. To know the Earth once again. I stepped closer to the door and rang the bell.

Soon I would sit down.

Sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.

 


He told me the car had seen better days. He wasn't lying.

The seats smelled like a dead hooker's skin flakes mixed with prehistoric wino blood. The wheel chaved and splintered my hands as the decades-old, polished mahogany grip was peeling off with the slightest touch. The gear stick was covered with a strange, yellow substance that wouldn't come off even with paint thinner. The engine compartment rocked and rumbled with every gear change and push of the pedals, carrying a burning smell inside the car. The windows were covered in everdust and some kind of gooish mess was forming, no, growing from the sills. An ugly existence, but it was new life born into this world.

It was a new life for me as well.

Carol never told me she loved me anymore. The weekly poker nights, once my safe haven from slight nagging and motivational speeches, were beginning to rot me from the inside. I had seen kids so young that they could've actually been my kids rise up the corporate ladder in mere months while I was stuck in the slow lane escalator. I had told Jimmy and Jake about the same things that had bothered me for years on end and I think they had already stopped actually listening a long time ago. I didn't really sleep anymore, it was more like a shared state between consciousness and dreamland - even my brain was fed up with my life.

I don't know how or when I actually did it, but I know why I did it. It's not every day when you notice you've run out of your own life, your so-called comfort zone, the endless daydream of slogging towards your death day-by-day, and you realize you've sold all the assets you could and ended up with a Samsonite briefcase full of cold hard cash, sitting beside you on a crummy passenger seat of a beat-up station wagon, inching forward to a new beginning. I was still in a state of shock, half-amazed, half-scared shitless. My phone was ringing in my jeans' pocket, it was Carol. I panicked and threw the cell out onto the road. I didn't see it shatter; the car didn't have side or rear view mirrors. There was literally no looking back now. A crude sign paved the way for my new life's first pit stop:

NIAGARA FALLS - 47 KM

I had never been with a prostitute before. I knew some old friends who had done it as some kind of initiation rite to adulthood, or manhood. I had Carol then, so I did nothing even though they egged me on before doing the deed themselves. I wonder what happened to those guys? I snapped back to reality as I realized I was going to come and the hooker rocked me to a fantastic finish. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, patted me on the side of my belly and made it wobble a bit. I need to start working out. I told her she can clean herself up in the bathroom while I got her payment ready. She closed the door and I pulled the briefcase from the ceiling, where it sat quietly on top of the insulation boards. I rotated my combination in - 2512 - and clicked the case open. Over the past day or so I had really learned to appreciate the smell of money, the scent of ink and wealth. These had to be quite fresh off the prints, either that or I just hadn't realized there really was an aroma before. I grabbed the payment and a bit of extra for my request and showed the case back into the ceiling. She came out looking as fresh as she did in the club, which was impressive considering the action we had not more than three minutes ago.

I handed her the money, but while she was going for it I grabbed her hand, softly. There was a slight moment of panic in her eyes, a sullen fear as she never probably knew what kind of freaks and weirdos could be posing as Johns. I added the other $500 into the wad in her hand and asked her if she knew about any fun and dangerous activities around here. She nodded with a sudden leer and beckoned me to come with. I grabbed the keys and we were on our way.

The rush was inexplicable. My heart was pounding faster than it had for years, no, faster than ever before. I didn't know if my heart had actually felt anything for the last twenty years, cramped inside a lifeless cage, trapped inside me. Maybe the mix of glee and terror and excitement and fervour was more than about what I was going go through. Maybe the tingling I had felt since I noticed I had left my old life behind was my being correcting itself for the new path I was about to experience. The new stories I was about to write. Maybe it was a sudden realization that my regular life was over and new, thrilling adventures and commotions were ahead. Something new every day, terrifying truths on the path of self-enrichement! Lessons to be learned and taught, taking control of the life I had never lived! Maybe it was just that feeling.

Or maybe it was because I was inside a barrel heading down the Niagara Falls.

I could hear the roar of the massive masses of water ahead of me. The force of this natural power station was immense; I could feel it in my bones. I looked back for one last time. The hooker, Tiff, was waving her hand at me with her two male friends who set me up in this 'extreme barreling' shebang. In my life, I had never felt fear. I only knew it now as I could feel my brains fighting the thought of dying, that these could be my final breaths. I had never felt fear. I had never felt so alive. I saw the majestic waterfalls before me and I could sense the rush of water quickening and I knew this was it. All or nothing. I crouched inside the barrel and sealed the top shut with quickbolt. Let's live to see another day.

I fell into the cold rushes below.

 


"Like sand through the hourglass in a galaxy far, far away, so are the days of our stars."

It's times like these

when I wish that I was young again,

To see the million suns up there

just burning without an end,

To learn of universes, multiverses

to find new friends,

But all I care about right know

is you here holding my hand!

Starships and Roses,

floating in the dark!

We see it all unfold

on mankind's final Ark!

To hear the roar of sunshine,

to feel it on our skin!

Starships and Roses,

let the consummation begin!

[/i]You're watching Starships and Roses, brought to you in part by SkeptoConsuCorp,

your leading and preferred One Stop Shop for Repopulation![/i]

Previously:

Captain Dawson finalized his log for the day, when suddenly -- a dark silhouette stood in his quarters' corner. He drew his trusty phastol with his quick reflexes and demanded the person to come out of the shadows. A robed and hooded form emerged, and revealed to be Anastasia, one of the Russian Vessels. The captain kept a bead on her just in case. At the same time, the Australian Seed Daniel had just finished making love to his newest Bio-Vessel, Multica, when he had a sudden flashback about the death of his three previous Vessels, especially Lucia, when her ghost suddenly appeared above them just when Multica announced that she was with child…

Episode 35798.02: Dawson Gets A Rude Awakening!

Dawson: What are you doing here, wench? Didn’t I tell you that I will not be friendly to the woman whose greatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgrandfather killed my ancestor! Ha, you’re not armed, are you? Take off that robe and show me your hands!

Anastasia: But captain, my darling, people have to move on, don’t they? One can’t simply hold a grudge for centuries…

She takes off her robe and reveals highly arousing undergarments, made from sub-silk. She caresses the captain as he lowers his weapon and gives into a passionate kiss with the blonde bombshell.

Dawson: I… I… oh, Anastasia, you are right. It would be wrong of me to keep doing this for years on end, stasis or no stasis. I… I think I… I have always lo…

Anastasia: …for centuries about such a minor issue, can they..?

Dawson: What!? You devil-woman! Get off me, you spawn of Stalin!

The captain brushes the vixen aside and raises his weapon at her once again. As she stumbles up from the mahogany spacefloor, she begins to cry, lowering the captain’s emotional defenses.

Dawson: Anastasia, I… I’m sorry! I would never even dream of hurting a woman, a woman I… respect. A true lady that I have been intimate with, coercing our blueblood origins into one existence. To think that I would hit the mother of my Offspring, no matter the reason, I feel ashamed!

Anastasia: …you’re not the…

The woman mumbles and the captain thinks he hears something ridiculous, but demands to know if he heard right. She pulls out her own weapon and aims it at the captain.

Dawson: Speak up or die, Vessel!

Anastasia: …you’re not his father. And actually I am… I’m your…

Dawson: Say it out loud!

Anastasia: I am your sister, Thomas! Your greatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgrandfather wasn’t killed by my ancestor’s hand, he killed HIMSELF! It was our Russian forefather who laid the seeds into our mothers’ wombs! We are KIN!

Dawson: …WHAT?!?!

Both fired their weapons in the dimly-lit room.

Meanwhile, the ghost of Lucia has appeared before Daniel and Multica, floating in their quarters.

Daniel: What the hell is this? You are DEAD! I saw you die with my own eyes; you floated away into the endless depths of space!

Multica: *Expression: Confusion* --daniel, my lord and seed, what is this sensory reaction overload that I--

He looks at her and corrects her socket to Night Vision. Multica can now see the apparition before her.

Multica: *Expression: Horror* --aaaaaaaaaarrggghhhhhh—

Lucia’s ghost: So this is how you remember me, your first wife, the love of your life, the pearl of your spaceship, the possible bearer of your Offspring? By fondling around with a Bio-Vessel!?

Daniel: Babe, this is not… I can explain! Wait, this can’t be happening, ghosts aren’t real! I saw you die, I KNOW you died, but still… how about this!?

He stands up and punches the ghost with a swift uppercut. To their surprise, he hits something solid and the “ghost” falls down. As she stumbles up from the mahogany spacefloor, she begins to cry, lowering Daniel’s emotional defenses.

Daniel: Look… I’m sorry! I didn’t want to have that Offspring, and you were an obstacle about to ruin my Unseeding days, you and the two others were the only one who wouldn’t let me pull out and look what happened! I HAD TO kill you, I wasn’t ready to commit!

Multica: *Expression: Anger* --daniel, my lord and seed, you are a pig—

Lucia: Ha! That’s all I needed to know! You probably didn’t know that I would float right into an alien spaceship and be rescued. The horrifying probing aside, they brought me back so I could exact my revenge, you dirty Vesselite! And know I have it all on TAPE!

She pulls out a RecoDe and a large phastol, set on “Murder”. Multica can’t handle the situation and her brain circuitry melts instantly, killing the Offspring inside her Bio-Womb. Daniel grabs his own phastol from under his spacepillow.

Daniel: You will pay for this… mother!

Both fired their weapons in the dimly-lit room.

How will the situation end?

Who shot first?

Was it all a space dog’s dream?

Will this show ever end?

Find out next time on…

STARSHIPS AND ROSES!

 
FJSX42WFHH3379T.MEDIUM.jpg
Do a story on this.
 


The guys and girls over at Big Sausage Pizza laughed in my face when I gave them my pitch. I knew there was an audience, a niche factor to my proposal; I had been to Japan and learned that there is a niche for anything you can dream of. I had seen Snooki gorge them down her throat on multiple occasions, and I knew the girls at the bar were not disgusted by my suckling of the salty suckers.

I knew there was a demand for Pickle Dick.

I got off the phone with the head honcho over at Sexxstarter and smiled while checking my bank account - I had been pledged 30,000 dollars by the pickle-craving lunatics of the world. I had already finalized today's first shoot beforehand, I knew the funding would come through and I couldn't keep my future fans waiting any longer for their first fix of Picklemania. I drove down to the party store, got my order in a large duffel bag and headed down to Calhoun Street, the set of my first porn shoot. Directed by me. Damn it felt good.

The girl was already waiting for me, she was someone I would trust with my pickles for years on end, but this is now. She leaned against the wall in her striped tube socks and jean miniskirt, chewing away on some gum, loosening her jaw for the upcoming scene. I nodded in her general direction and fished the set of keys out of my pocket to open the door. The third key was the charm and I let her go through first, locking the door behind me.

It was a smart place, definitely, something I had seen in other videos. This time, though, the apartment would be witness to something completely different. I set up the camera, the camcorder, readied my GoPro for the suit and the webcam from my laptop for the live feed. As I opened the duffel bag to take out my now-fulfilled vision, she coughed loudly and expectedly. I looked up and saw her standing a bit slanted, resting her other hand on her arm and holding her palm open while lifting her right eyebrow. Ah, the payment up front. I gave her the cash and half-expected her to smile or rejoice at the sight of money, but she just folded the bills and stuck them in her bra, showing me that same moonface. Whatever, I thought. She was a pro and I wasn't going to argue about pre-shoot behavior - I was the amateur here. I pulled out the suit and got dressed in a flash.

I clicked on the Donator's Feed and hit 'Live'. We were online and running. I noticed my voice was a bit muffled by the suit and opened up the mesh a bit to get a clearer sound. I told the viewers, 22 000 and rising, to hold on to their dicks and keep fapping away as the show was about to start. I closed the feed window and opened up the camcorder viewfinder to check out all the angles - we were ready to go. I looked at the girl and she gave me a thumbs up. I set the camera to go 'Live' in 20 seconds and took my position outside the backdoor. I started to sweat with both joy and anticipation while counting down the seconds. Six, five, four, three, two, one... It's on!

I knocked on the door and she opened up quickly, looking slutty as ever.

"Uuuummm, so, like I'm reaaaaally horny... and I really want something to suck on... but not a guy's... thing... I want something softer, saltier, something I can bite on and let the healthy juices flow inside my mouth", she recited perfectly according to the script.

I stood up straight to get a good view with the GoPro, grabbed it from the suit's pocket and showed it right into her face:

"I got your pickle right here!"

She let me in as agreed and sat on the sofa while I glanced at the computer. 78 000 viewers! New viewers paying the entrance fee! I was already rich! But I kept my cool and she sat on the sofa, continuing with the script.

"But, Mr. Pickle Dick, why on Earth would I want to suck on that... vegetable? Who knows where it's been..?"

I cleared my voice quietly and began.

"Well, well, well my darling dear,

there's nothing for you to fear!

You're not in a pickle, you see,

for the only pickle is me!

I see you've met juicy friend,

he goes by the name of George!

Not let his healthy vitamins

just run their natural course!

I'm Pickle Dick yet I'm not sick

for I eat my veggies and play.

It's not too often you find a girl

who'll chow on pickled and will not hurl!"

"Come and get it!"

I handed her the pickle and she went straight to town with it. It was an ecstatic feeling, taking hundreds of pictures while looking at her jam on it, play with it and finally munching down on it after a long tease, swallowing the big bites whole and burping loudly afterwards. She sighed like she had just exploded and really milked the deal for me and the viewers - she was an amazing faker. Not long after it began, the show was over.

I sent her on her way after shutting down everything else but the Donator's Feed. I breathed hardly through the mesh and started talking:

"What you saw here today was the beginning of a new legend. Something simple, yet extravagant. No longer will big sausages seal the deal in the food porn business; no longer will tentacles guide the way for freakish Hentai; no longer will there be a gap of demand for vegetable sucking left unsupplied! No, this is a new dawn, a new beginning for the lost and sacred art of hoovering down on the fruit the dusty Earth has beared us from its ground. Today will mark the day of a fantasy so large that the next generation of mankind will only know the One True Porn and cannot procreate without seedlings, pods or flowers of Mother Nature underneath them or inside them. The end of sausage has come - the rise of veggie is NOW!"

I stood up with gusto.

"I am Pickle Dick! Hear... me... roar!"

 


Children sing happily and group into auditorium. Principal practice welcome speech with students and teach marching band glorious moment to start playing. He is very nervous - their leader is not known for patience. He wipes sweat off brow and takes deep breath; the time has come and the trumpet sound in the large hall. Even so, one can hear powerful footsteps that echo in hall, and principal show band to stop playing. A figure emerges from curtains, pacing onto glorious red carpet. Principal nearly get stroke of heart when a child of small stature runs up to our leader, fearing for their life.

The leader stops in place and looks in boy's eyes. The boy is dirty from play and glorious education time, his nose bleeding from schoolyard fight, but stands strong in front of the great man frowning at the boy's action. The boy draws breath and says:

"Great leader Josif! I want to become like you! I want to lead our glorious union and create better world!"

Stalin smirks, laughs loudly, then be serious again.

"Boy... are you not pleased at state of affairs in our nation now?"

Principal almost dies of shock and knows that they will all die because of student Gasparov's mistake. Soldiers behind Stalin aim weapons at the child, but suddenly great Premier gives signal to put down weapon. He turns back to impudent student Gasparov, bending down to his level.

"That is quite a big goal, young man. And just how you become someone like me, what is your plan?"

The boy shows no fear, inhales air and proclaims loud:

"I want to learn from great Premier! I want to know how he defeated his enemies even in childhood and became the best!"

The boy looks at students in front row angrily - principal notices that they are known bullies. Stalin laughs heartily, holding in sides and places hand on student Gasparov's head.

"You are a brave young man! Ha ha ha, you could have what it take to become successor of Premier position, I enjoy your spirit and attitude! But now, be gone and sit with your fellow students in this glorious auditorium built in my name. Go now and be seated."

The child runs off, wiping bloody nose in shirt and smiling happily. Great leader stand up straight and walk to principal, nodding to him to leave stage now. Stalin stand up on a soapbox, looks around and his voice start booming gloriously in large room.

"So, today I was going to tell you about leadership. About greatness and benefits of your input in life for our nation. But now, due to a brave student, I shall now tell you a true story. A story of my childhood. A story how I defeated and crushed my enemies already at tender age of 12. A story you will remember for rest of life."

Premier looked at student Gasparov in nostalgia. Student Gasparov cries tears of joy as principal relaxes and the great leader clear voice and begins telling story of his past.

It was beautiful day in Georgia. All that could be beautiful was even more beautiful than normal. Birds sing, fish jump in river and bear ride unicycle in forest meadow. Josif yawned when opening the window, smiling at the greatness of his life and future ahead. He had decided already at the age of twelve to rule the world with powerful grip. Nothing stood in way, or so he thought.

A rock was hit in his face, knocking him down onto floor. It was very large rock, a jagged stone now with his blood on it. He was in pain and looked out window with blood dripping down his eye. It was classmate and student Shadova, laughing with other friends at Josif's misery.

"Josif! You are a son of whore, ha ha! You will never become great, not even on beautiful day like this! Give up and never try again!"

The other students also laughed, thinking Josif was fool and feeble, and that Shadova was strong and smart. He knew that his life would be in ruin if rest of class found out about his weakness to rock. He grabbed stone in hand, ran into outside and smashed it into Shadova's face, breaking his skull. Josif smashed and smashed until there was red and grey and white all over beautiful grass and flowers. Shadova was no more and other students were afraid. Josif lifted bloody rock up in air and shouted to others:

"I will not let anyone tarnish my name! I will destroy and defeat all enemies who opposing of me. With this stone, I shall cripple them until only followers and loyal people left! Understand that Josif Vissarionovitš Džugašvili will become the power to be feared ans respected with all means necessary to cause! Understand!?"

The other students feared, but understood quickly. They saw Josif not as weak or feeble, but as strong and smart, one to become a great leader without fear or loss of determination. They started singing respectful songs, shouted his name and throwing him in air as true hero of nation.

This was how the story of glory of Josif Stalin began.

Premier finished powerful story and teaching. Principal and students also felt respect to him, seeing that he wanted best for everyone, he wanted to show how power can become tool and how supporters are earned from ranks of enemies and friends. Student Gasparov gleefully smiled, praying with hands to one day become like his idol and goal.

Stalin looked at him, smirked from under his superb facial hair, and winked at the boy.

 


It wasn't easy being deformed. This Mr. Turtle had learned to know the hard way.

Mutant. Freak. Shellbrain... a loved child has many names, but definitely not as many as a hated one.

Until his 20s, the paperbags, raincoats and large backpacks seemed to do the trick to conceal his deformities in public, but when his family was long gone and he had only himself to trust in the masking process, things soon got awry.

He couldn't even remember a Halloween without the first batch of children, dressed in both poor and fancy costumes ringing his door bell and shouting the always-profitable phrase as soon as he opened the front door. He couldn't even remember a Halloween without the first batch of children screaming in terror as they witnessed his green skin, missing fingers, deformed round head clad with a colored bandanna and the unclean and stenchful hard shell covering his fragile posterior. Even though the were children, they immediately saw through any disguise or attempt to hide his loathful being. Maybe it was because they were just that, young and innocent people, truthful to a point, seeing through a facade...

One day it all changed for Mr. Turtle, as the kids, and even adults, had begun calling him. The days and years had gone by and he had grown larger and heavier physically, yet more mentally unstable due to his hermit-like behaviour. Another ring at the door made a difference that day. He was expecting a beating, an egging or simply a good old piss balloon to the face from the neighbourhood kids, passing along their parents' hatred towards different people. But this was going to be something else entirely.

He shut his eyes when he opened the front door, half from fear of getting beaten and partly because of the sunlight he hadn't felt for at least two months now. He saw a tall figure standing on his porch, chewing away on something. He squinted his reptilian eyes just enough and raised his few-pronged appendage to cover from the sun's rays. It was a person clad in... a bunny costume. He, he thought it was a 'he', was tall as the door, much over seven feet and he turned to Mr. Turtle with a glistening leer.

"Naaaww... What's up, Doc?"

The bunny man moved towards the shelled one with a magical speed and psuhed them both inside, shutting the door. The grey rabbit swung the tortoise onto his sofa and swallowed a part of the carrot he was muching on before letting loose.

"You see... there's this old wive's tale, or actually it goes further than that, anyway! The story's about a turtle and a hare - I'm the hare, see - well, there are a lot of stories about us two, our kind. Some are for kids, for moral lessons and not giving up, while some are more like philosophical types of questions. In either case, we happen to be something that overcomes these petty stories and limits."

The rabbit leaned forward and Mr. Turtle tried to withdraw his head into his shell, but not before the hare grabbed his bald, ugly head and pulled it up, continuing:

"We... us two, happen to be pretty unique. Sure, we've both seen some bad days, it's hard being a freak in a public school system, but we both learned how to play that system to our advantage, right? We both understood that being different was a gift, not a deterrent! We both... wait a minute, why are shaking your head and looking like you're about to burst into tears..? No... Noooooooo, don't tell me that... don't tell me you're some loser afraid of himself, a self-loathing nobody who didn't use the fact of being a FRICKING MAN-TURTLE to his advantage? Oh man, ha ha ha! You're killing me! Hahaha... but in any case, I have a proposition. A proposition that could make us both very, very rich..."

The bunny let go of the tortoise's head, and Mr. T slowly raised his head back up, slightly angered, but very intrigued.

"A...an... and what w-would tthat b-be..?"

The rabbit turned around quickly.

"He speaks! Lord have mercy! Well, it just so happens that I've got an exciting offer from some very wealthy gentlemen and gentlewomen. An offer that you can refuse, but would be foolish to do so."

He spun around as Mr. T looked pn, listening intently.

"There's going to be a race soon. A rally race. It's a very legendary one, the Paris-Dakar Rally. Many people lose their lives trying to best the race each year. No one has ever attempted to win it on-foot. That's where we come in, dear greenshell."

The hare looked into the turtle's eyes with a passionate flame, and a glint of gold.

"WE are going to be racing in this rally, from start to finish, and we will defy death, showing those sub-humans that we are an evolved form, a mix of animal and man, and that we have traits, skills and durability which are all superior to those who rule the world right now, disgusted by our furry and scaly presence, unable to accept that other forms of life can be better than a human-ape disgrace. We can SHOW THEM!"

Mr. Turtle understood and rose up from the couch, ready to agree and put his appendage forward to shake hands with the wabbit, but pulled away at the last moment, leaving the critter unamused and looking on.

"You see, I'm ready to agree to this. I'm not a loser nor have I ever thought of myself as one. But freak, monster, disfigured half-human? Yes... those I have heard and felt far too often. I know I am strong and willing to become more than I was allowed to as a normal person, but I've never been given the chance. So, I'm ready to agree, but still...

what's the catch, dear rabbit?"

Wiggling his tall ears, the bunny sprang into a hearty laughter that boomed inside the small condo. When he regained his composure, Mr. T was standing in place with his arms crossed and tapping his foot, waiting for an answer. He serious'd and explained the situation.

"The prize for the rally is 50,000 dollars. But if we do this, we also have our own prize - one million dollars, cold cash, paid in full on the spot. The catch is... only one of us takes that money, the one who finishes first. So, my shelled companion, will you take my offer, their offer, to outwit, to outsmart, to outrace our fellow humans in their famous race, and will you challenge me to see if the stories and myths hold any real value outside moral implications - can a turtle really defeat a hare?"

He pulled out two plane tickets from his fur and pointed his right index finger at the street outside. A honk was heard - the taxi was waiting for them.

"So... how bout it? You got something to lose?"

Mr. Turtle thought about it, all the hardships, the pain and misery, but just then he glanced his own image in the dusty mirror in the hallway. A wretched old man, or tortoise, a true mix - seen his best days, yet still full of fire and flames, wrath incited by the years of physical and mental torture, codified in his eyes. He saw his own being, suddenly twenty years younger, and realized that all was not lost... yet.

"Sure, my furry friend. It's a deal."

They both reached their hands out and shook for a pact of both new friendship and new rivalry. Only one of them was going to make it out of this as a winner, and maybe neither of them was going to make it out of this alive. But they sure as hell were going to try.

They walked out into the evening as Mr. Turtle shut the door behind him, clicking it shut with the last sound that would ever echo inside his apartment.

 
your camping miles away from civilization. you are an experiemced woodsman. you hear a pack of wild animals circling your camp.....
 


They kept telling me to stay away from these dark woods. How the forest and its tall grass were infested with deadly creatures hearkening to your every step, waiting for the chance to strike. To hell with them, I thought. I am Archibald Gunnder after all - the mightiest woodsman in the world. Self-proclaimed, maybe... was it the truth? It sure as hell was.

The sun was still shining no more than fifteen minutes earlier, but I had ventured far into the forest's depths. The shadows of branches crept over me, further and faster than I could imagine while the thick mist was growing all around me due to the humidity. Or was this the work of those creatures the legends told of..?

I had heard the stories since I had been but a wee lad. Of monsters both gigantic and miniature in nature, possessing unbelievable magical and spiritual powers. Creatures grouped together to run entire power plants; beings soaring through the clouds and diving in the deepest reaches of the ocean: things that could drive a man insane with their psychic prowess; animals whose powers were once harnessed by man.

At first, those myths and stories had intrigued me, being young and impressionable and all. I had dreamed of riding my own beast in the sky, or manipulating a neighbourhood bully to give back all the lunch money he had stolen using my telepathic helper. Back then I was small and weak. After my growth spurt, when I had taken care of the bullies myself, with raw strength and appointed myself as the protector of the weak and a ruler of the schoolyard, I had already forgotten the creatures of legend. Life took a hold of me and drove onwards - childish stories left behind to rot inside my head. But now they were fresh back in my mind, creeping closer as the mist grew thicker and the light shone no more through to the undergrowth.

It was time to make camp.

If there was one thing I had learned during my jobs and adventures in forestlands, it was that humans had evolved to become tools themselves. To become large and strong when it was a matter of brawn; to become smart and sleek when it was a matter of brains. Combined, we are able to create amazing tools by putting together the greatest minds and the contraptions they envision, and letting the most powerful men and women to utilize them to their fullest. We had far long given up slavery of all kinds - be it man or animal in question. Flying machines with propellers, large floating apparatuses to bring people from island to island, synthetic power groves that gave us both food and energy - we had succeeded as ourselves and left nature run its own course beside us. We didn't need nature anymore and nature was not in charge anymore. Nature was weak, man was strong.

Or so I thought.

As the fire kindled kindly in the dark night, I dreamt of seeing the moon howl above me, but alas it was the darkest reach of any woodland I had entered before. But the moonlight would soon be in my reach. I was there to uncover an ancient fossil from an abandoned excavation operation under a mountain said to only be visible when the moon cast it's mirrored rays upon it. I had been offered the job by a wealthy Italian man, the of a large conglomerate, while on his deathbed.

He must have been older than any other person I had ever seen, but along with his many lawyers and lackies, all wearing clothers with the same lettered symbol, I heard his final wish.

Bring me the fossil, he had said. To recreate the age I flourished in. That it might really be too late for him, even with all his wealth and abilities to prolong his life, but that I was the only man capable of traversing those woods and entering the site. I had signed the agreements, with no mention of the myth, but the other patrons in the nearby Border Control pub had brought up the creatures and now I could think of nothing else. I snapped back into reality in the forest meadow. A large rustle in the nearby tall grass. I saw eyes shining in the dark all around me.

Before I could grab my double-edged woodman's axe, I heard a small noise that sounded like an animal, but... it also sounded like human language. Just then I was struck with a bolt of electricity, and my body went numb for a second. I stumbled up, my head still in shock and my whole being shaking when I saw what had attacked me.

It was a little rat-type creature, a plump one, it's fur yellow, face blazoned with two red dots, it's tail shaped like a lightning bolt and it's two deeply dark eyes, staring straight at me as it grolwed and shone its white teeth in the campfire's orange glow. But it wasn't alone.

Behind it came three other creatures, each one bigger than the last. First came a toad-like amphibian, with a large flower on its back, whipping two sharp tentacles in the air. Behind it I saw a gigantic turtle, leering as if it knew of its amazing power, brandishing two gun-like appendages from under its shell. Last but not least, came a large orange serpent, almost like a lizard, with huge wings and a spiky tail, breathing flames from its open maw.

A dragon. It was a dragon of lore. Along with its companions, each more powerful than the other, yet all weak to their embraced elements. It was the BokeMono - the creatures of bed-time stories used to scare children not to venture into the woods, alive, right here, in the flesh. Suddenly, they all began glaring at me viciously, powering up their attacks, each one glowing with a different, vivd color. I knew I had met my end.

"Stand down."

The animals stopped dead in their tracks, spreading around me and the campfire. They made a sort of passageway for something… someone to come out from the misty grass behind them. It was an old man, twice my age, leaning on a wooden cane, supporting the figure as he slumped forwards to the light, brandishing a powerful, grey beard. He had a mean visage, that of a champion braving these animals, but his eyes were kind as he entered the glow.

”Some more light, please?”

The dragon shot a massive flame into the existing campfire, and the yellow rat shot a thunderball into the air where it stayed in place and shone as brightly as the sun. The old man came to me and hoisted me up with ease. He was wearing some kind of capsules all over his person. Before I had a chance to say anything, he spoke.

“I take it you’re here for the ancient remains? You’re not the first he sent here.”

The animals murmured around me, as if they were communicating with each other, chanting the same… sounds that seemed like words to me, over and over again, nodding their heads, smiling, understanding each other. Was I slowly losing my mind? Was this just a dream, a night terror in these dark woods brought on by the retelling of all the stories clogging my head? Another creature appeared next to the old man, floating in the air, twirling its unfathomable whiskers on its fox-like head, repeating those words again as if it was talking to him.

“Hmm… thank you. No, Archibald, you are not losing your mind. This is all quite real. I am one of the last remaining trainers, effigies from a world long gone, protecting this sacred place from intruders. Show him how close he is.”

The turtle blasted fluid from the weapons on its back, pushing away the undergrowth and the trees above them with immense pressure. Then I saw it – the mountain stood before me, bathing in moonlight although I could feel the heat of the sun from behind the dark veil surrounding the rock.

“I see… you seem to think very highly of yourself, as master of the woods. No doubt you are a great one at that; he wouldn’t have hired you if you couldn’t talk the talk. But now, I’ll leave you with two very simple options: leave this place alive or dead. That’s all there is to it, Mr. Gunnder. Think it over… but not for too long, as my friends might grow weary as they haven’t seen battle in years.”

The creatures, now numerous all around the campsite, were glancing at me, with saliva dripping from their mouths and orifices, their razor-sharp teeth flashing in the brazen moonlight. There must have been more than hundred of them, each looking a bit different than the next. Somehow, even faced with this choice, I felt mixed emotions. At the same time serenity, but also ashamed.

I was faced with a guru of Old; a Man who enslaved animals to do his bidding and fight in bloodied arenas across the globe. And for what? For simple gratification of one’s strength? No, it was a disgusting act with no valor, using innocent creatures and their might, their lives and souls thrown into a heartless, never-ending battle. I jumped up.

“Your days are long gone, old man! Mankind has evolved, much like your creatures of legend… no, of old wives’ tales, of mystery – we have become powerful enough to forge our own timeline and existence. There is no need for such brutish actions of your generation! You may have seen them as “pets”, but we have understood how you only used them for your own selfish motives! I will not leave this place without accomplishing my mission! Your threats will not thwart my progress! I am strong, and I am a man of my word! Die!”

I kneeled down to grab my axe, throwing my machete to the right at the same time, cracking open the head of a large blue bird as it shrieked in the cold night. I took two steps back as three apes approached me, and swung the axe forward with a body swing, cleaving their bodies in half. The rat’s thunder kept missing me by inches as I kicked it into the nearby tree, skewering it into a sharp branch broken by the water blast. I could feel them grow angrier, more furious than any other prey I had encountered before. But I was strong, and I would not beg or quit in front of any animal, or in front of any man! The old man grabbed his red and white cap, now facing forwards, and turned it backwards with a quick flash of his hand. He smiled with fervor.

“Another candidate for the skull pile, eh? Come and get it…”

I roared in the depths of the misty forest, under the eternal moonlight as I charged forward with the swing of my axe.

 
That's just got Unlucky Al written all over it.

I'll give it a go at later time, regards to The Fast Show.
 
Okey, I'm in the mood a wilderness adventure. Europe. No or not much people anywhere. Past, present or future is your call. You wander, but you're not lost. But what are you heading towards, and why?

GO!
 
can you please write a story about when you came to snow park new zealand bought a cheap subaru legacy and rallyed it and jumped the creek at the bottom of the mountain in it. also include other antics from this trip
 


Day 25:

This is my first entry in the third logbook, so I'll sum up the situation for future investigators. I've been following the target closely for nearly a month now. He has not yet shown enough incriminating evidence of illegal behaviour as he operates almost strictly out of his specialized "pimp mobile". I've only ever seen money change hands by the way of hookers - mostly by an anorexic 5'4" blonde called Cindilla and an Amazonesque dark-skinned transsexual called Roger. Still, the signs are clear and that is why my target is the most notorious pimp and money launderer in the lower East District - Pimpachu the 3rd.

Today, the streets were empty.

Day 27:

Finally got a bead on him when a young-looking John refused to pay for Roger's services. The audio is a bit unclear, but it seems that the remaining male genitalia came as an unpleasant surprise. Pimpachu stepped out of the tinted-glass vehicle, appearing from a cloud of smoke, possibly from marijuana use inside the car.

Target is a black male, at least 8'11", with a long, flashy coat embedded with diamonds swaying over his tall being. In his right hand he held a large cup, commonly associated with pimping operations; in his left hand was a lengthy cane with a large diamond attached to its head. Pimpachu rose up to his full height, scaring the John and whacked him with the diamond end of the cane. The John collapsed for a moment, but soon retreated and left behind a sum of money on the street from where Roger collected it, handing it back to his/her pimp.

This was enough evidence to shoot a specialized optical spy cam with a mic inside the vehicle through the open door. It was not an easy shot from three stories high, but I am a specialist, after all.

Day 28 through 31:

The camera has not been functioning well, the picture is blurry and the sound is weak, leading to evidence that would not hold up in court.

I will shut down operations from the 'Ton and change locations and my operational motive, disguising myself as a Hot Dog vendor to get a closer and clearer signal from the car's usual rounds. It is a risky move, but it has to be done.

Day 36:

Finally, after researching footage from the last few days acting as a street cook, I have discovered a terrible secret, one that shook me to my very core.

Pimpachu is in fact in a Japanese salaryman, only 5'2", standing inside a mechanical suit built to look like a terrifying and large man of African-American ethnicity. By using this powerful armor, a gundam so to speak, he has created an aura of fear around him and his operations, allowing him to act and exit in silence and safety from the vehicle's false bottom and live a double life on the side. Now I know this secret, but there is something else I must report.

Cindilla, the small and feeble hooker in his service, is not in the business because of the want to become a Lady of the Night. No, it is something far more devious.

Pimpachu has imprisoned Cindilla's - real name Sandy Rivers - brother inside large Pimp Mobile, almost the size of two Double Decker buses. Her brother is kept inside a slowly working torture machine that needs to be reset every three hours. How, you ask? By Cindilla eating a pastry, of all things, to fatten her up from her anorexic form. The mechanism has a weight release that will open when Cindilla reaches a certain weight - the exact number is unclear from the video footage.

Multiple times, every day, she is force-fed pastries by her pimp, as her brother and Roger watch on in terror. He truly is an evil man of cunning intellect, but I have outsmarted him and seen his true colors. I have begun constructing my own mechanical suit to face him tomorrow. I will apprehend him - I am a specialist, after all.

CHITROIT YORK HERALD - EXTRA ISSUE!

A DISASTER IN THE DEADLY DISTRICT

Yesterday, on May 25th at approximately 3pm, a full-out warzone erupted in the streets of lower East District. Explosions could be heard on the other side of Wichington Island and all the way in Upstate Calissee.

While reports from officials are still crude, eye witnesses have reported seeing two large "robots" fighting it out in the streets of the area commonly known as the Blue Light Square, shooting weapons with both bullets and missile-type projectiles at each others.

One of the robots was stated to been a large African-American, who was described to have been clad in some sort of "pimp armor", while the other was a freakishly tall Caucasian robot, wearing a trilby hat and a suede jacket, looking like, as said by an eye witness "like that dude from Casablanca or sumthin'!"

The aftermath of the battle is horrifying - fires all around the area and rubble from from destroyed buildings all around the square is blocking off easy entry frok the area, now closed off further by yellow tape due to on-going investigation.

33 are reported dead with a 100 casualties. Amongst the deceased were two recognizable figures from the city: a wealthy Japanese entrepreneur from Downtown, Hideoki Yanaka, and a famous Private Eye for Hire, Colin Woods - both known for their tenacity in their lines of work.

All further information will be reported in tomorrow's special broadsheet and we will keep following the situation as it settles down.

-Carrie Hooves

 
Hey write about an ex pornstar who gets sucked into one last job in order to provide for his family where he ends up doing sexual favors for an under-age teen, watches a baby get raped, and ends up committing incest then kills himself and his family. If it's good enough we could make a movie out of it...
 


I will find him. I will hunt him down. I will rip his throat open.

The concept of time wasn't something I was friendly with - the constant sundowns and moonrises had skewed my senses, but I knew time had passed. A long amount of time.

The trail was was getting hotter and easier to follow. The cold nights or heated days didn't slow me down - I only stopped to nourish myself periodically. Other than that, my rage kept me going.

I hadn't seen any people around in a few suns now, when I suddenly ran into a group of four, flailing their lights in the deepest night. I watched them from afar; I had become more careful and doubting of them, especially now. I decided to circle around their area and away from the lights and sounds. The thought and smell of food intrigued me, but it would be a risk. I had wandered aimlessly for so long, following only a hunch and a feeling inside I couldn't quite understand. I knew I was after the right thing, where ever it was now. But I brushed the idea of eating away from my head. I had other goals now. Bloody goals.

The sun rose from behind the large rockface I had slept under, it was time to move. I drank from the nearby river and went to ration the rest of my meal from yesterday - it was all gone. Scavengers, no doubt. I was beginning to feel weak and a fear crept over me. What if I was not strong enough, bold enough to face him? Face the murderer of my family and friends; the one who took everything that was ever important away from me?

He was strong, this I had always known. But to betray us like that - no one saw it coming and they paid with their lives. But strong as he may be, he was a fool to spare me. Wounding me, but letting me live, to wallow in hate until I was no more. But he thought wrong.

That day, I saw what he had done and attacked with mindless fury, but I was nothing but a toy for him to play with, a sack to throw around, sneering at me while I tried to cope with his deeds. My mother, father, my siblings, my closest friends - all slaughtered and gone away forever. As he ran away, I could feel the loathing building up inside me, but I knew that I was badly hurt. I knew I might not make it. But I was still alive.

Feeling my body give out from under me, I slouched onto the ground, gasping for air. I looked at the wound - it was festering. I didn't have a lot of time. That's when I heard him. No, sensed him. Not far from here, but not close either. How could I have spotted him like this? Was it a sick bond that was tied between us, a bond bathed in blood? I sprang up, writhing in pain, but kept going, sprinting up the hillside, carefully not to stubmle and fall down to steep drop below. He was close, I knew it! I could see the trail in front of me, leading up the hill, weaving between the rocks and leading up to some kind of plateau before a sudden mountain gorge. Almost there! I reached the plateau, looking around. Where was he, I could sense him all around the place! That's when he struck me from behind.

I woke up, hanging half over the edge of gorge, seeing the rapids gush below me. I panicked and got up, only to hear him behind me. I turned around slowly and saw my nemesis. The biggest and baddest of them all and my father's most vehement oppressor, once so loyal to him, now his soul dipped deep into my family's red surge.

The former Beta Male of our pack.

I had sometimes wondered why my father was the Alpha, as he was not the largest one of us, but his leadership skills and abilities to feed us with a strong hunting party had garnered him large respect among the pack. The rest had accepted him and woved to follow him, but not this one. He thought it was his place to lead them all, to hold the number one position. One sudden bite to the throat was all it took to drain the life out my father, surprised by the treachery - the rest were easy pickings. But here he was, growling at me. He had been waiting for me. Why not oblige him? I glared my teeth and sprung at him.

Fur, viscous, teeth, bone, blood, sinew.

I felt oddly weird, lightheaded. I stumbled forwards when my left paw gave away from under me - it was bitten off. I didn't even notice nor did I feel any pain anymore. The rotting wound on my back didn't even sting a bit. I felt relief, for so long I had endured it. I rose up on three legs, walking towards the cliff's edge. Something was wrong with my vision. For as long as I could remember, I had seen sights, sounds, smells and feelings fluttering all around me, it taking my strict mother's soft touch to teach me not to follow every single stimulus around me. She helped me to understand the world around me, to make these sensations help and guide my way through life, not drive me mad from overthinking, or overfeeling. I loved you, mother.

I was now at the edge, feeling the warm blood gush from my veins, my heart beating faster and faster to push it out, only to slow down when my body was getting emptier, becoming but a vessel of revenge that had fulfilled its goal. I threw my neck back and swung it around, releasing the grip of my jaw. His ripped-off head flew down into the riverbanks, lost in the flow forever, to feed the those at the bottom. I had done enough, I could feel it in my soul. I was truly my father's son.

I closed my eyes and leaned over the edge.

 
every few days when i wake up early and go back to sleep, i will have the most interesting and detailed dream. they're literally mini movies going on in my head where i'm living the lead. i once had one where i was trapped in a zombie infested airport in europe with a little girl, and had to get to a plane to fly me to london, the only "safe zone." but we had to run through one of those tunnels that leads to the plane, and it was pitch black, with a light at the very end, and i had nothing but a long, rusty screw to protect us. we ran towards the end, hearing zombies all around us, until the dream just faded to black and i saw the word "blackout," then woke up.

then just the other night i had a dream where me, my friend and a girl started a con ring. i don't remember the cons that well (it was a dream) but somehow me and the girl fell for each other, it was nice. the part i remember best was when it all caved in on us, the cops were coming, and so we all ran down into a basement and hid in this big bathroom. we heard someone banging on the door, and we thought it was the cops and that we were done for. but when we went out, it was a group of mobsters. turned out the girl was the don's uncle, and he got the cops off our back. but he gave me an ultimatum: i had to give him my earnings, never pull the con again and never see his niece again. i wasn't saying anything, and one of the mobsters said to me "come on kid, just say you'll do it, go give the girl one hell of a kiss goodbye, lay low for a bit then start sneakin around with her like he knows you're gonna do. cus if there's one thing he likes more than being listened to, it's being right." then i smiled, and woke up.

no joke, my brain 100% made up all of this shit for me to enjoy, and these are just the two i remember best, i have them all the time. the reason i've put it in this thread is because my brain has all this creative power, and when i'm awake i access none of it, and it's infuriating, so i'm jealous of mikko and his thread.
 
Dreams are one great medium for creation and new ideas, definitely, but remember that I've written stuff like this for my own pleasure for years on end. Not as good as some of these, I think many of the stories in this thread are some of my best material and I'm really happy about some very nice prompts, but just jutting them down is a culmination of a lot of practice, reading and writing... and of course interest in English. I honestly don't think I could do this in Finnish with good results.
 


Realization

"Justin? Where did you go?" she called from the bedroom. I was staring at the bathroom door in disbelief, wondering if I had actually imagined those... gruesome things to life. Something inside my mind told me it was still very real, and the quickly vaning yet still palpable smell of blood cemented this fact. We had to move, now.

"Come on, Nicole. Let's go. Now. Get your bag and... just all the snacks you fit in there, we have to go, and..." I realized she was staring blindly at me, in visible shock. Even when terrified, she was stunning, standing right there in her tight panties and undershirt. My mind wandered in thoughts of infatuation, but only for a split-second. "Come on, Nicole, umm, put your clothes on, do as I said. We really have to go, I don't..." I almost slipped and said that we're not safe here, but I didn't want to frighten her any more. Maybe I should tell her? No, not yet. Now we have to get the hell out of this nightmare.

"Umm, okay, I'll do it, but you're scaring me." She began packing up as I searched for a weapon, any kind. I ruffled through her drawers and found nail scissors, paper scissors and from the kitchen a few butter knives. These would have to do. I remembered glimpsing a lady shaver in the bathroom, but there was no way I would go there again. She was done and I beckoned her to grab a hold of my hand. She saw the weak weaponry I had collected and gave me this look, a look that mirrored her ability to comprehend nothing that was happening. Not the sounds, not my behaviour nor the buzz. It was all a ball of confusion in her head, that I could see clear as day in her deep, beautiful eyes. I thought about the conversations we had yesterday and knew that she was special to me already after our short acquiantance.

I took a deep breath and began leading her out of the dark apartment. I could feel her grip tightening when we passed the bathroom door: she too had noticed the stench, but we kept moving and I opened the door as we moved into the hallway.

Slanted

The sun rays lit up the hallway as we ventured to the stairway to exit the building. I kept a brisk, but careful pace. I felt a strong presence in the air, a sort of pressure surrounding me, as if cramping inside my head, not unlike the feeling that had preceeded the buzz earlier. It quickly dissipated and my vision was clear again. "Justin, are you okay, your nose is..." I didn't even notice, but my nose had just begun bleeding, dripping slowly over the arch of my lips and chin, staining my shirt with small drips. How did I not taste or feel it before it was on my shirt? I stopped and fished a small tissue out of my pocket, stuffing it up my nostril. "It's fine, Nic. It's fine, I'm used to this."

We were nearing the middle of the hallway near the garbage chute. That's when I realized the sound I had heard from the adjacent room 246. I slowed down our pace and pulling Nicole closer, crept near the door to listen in. I stood still, holding my breath for a few seconds. I could hear Nicole doing the same. Nothing, just that empty silence again. I breathed a sigh of both relief and anxiety: whoever was there earlier was either gone or doing the same as us. I glanced a quick smile to Nicole to signal that this was nothing. I pulled my head away from the door and took a step back when a terrifying scream came from beneath the door, only inches away from my face. A shout so ghastly and out of this world that my mind couldn't comprehend it, followed my loud knocking sound repeating three times along with the unearthly howl. We jumped back in fear and suddenly it was silent again. Whatever it was just now was gone once again. The stench. I could feel it even through my nosebleed. I looked down at the slit under the door. A small stream of dark blood slithered into the hallway, carrying more teeth with it. Teeth pulled straight out of their sockets with force, still gripped into nerve endings and parts of gums. I felt like fainting out of pure terror, but my body was ahead of me and already running down to the exit with Nicole. It wasn't until we had opened the door leading to the stairway that I realized how fast we had run. I took the first few steps down with her taking the lead for a moment and looked back into the hallway where we came from. In the long shadows cast by the early rays, I could see him. The man from the street, head hanging low, the top hat slanted to its side, and a devious smile on his dark features. I blinked and he was gone. Was I going out of my mind?

Touch

We made it down the flights of stairs in but a moment, pushing open the emergency exit door, knowing it would not trigger an alarm with the power out. Neither of us wanted to spend a second longer in that place. We were now in the the park alley between mine and her apartments, and we opted to run out of the main campus area. Something was too wrong to spend any more time here. Was that man, that person... real? Had she seen it too when running down? She ha seen the blood, hear the noises again, and the teeth. "Justin... What WAS that? That... smell, I smelled it in my apartment when we were leaving!" she exclaimed. I told her about the scalp and teeth inher bathroom. "...oh my God... so whatever it was, it had been in there? While we were sleeping? Oh my God, Justin, I'm so..." We were running now, a bit faster than a jog, with our bodies still weak from very low nutrition and having almost nothing to drink for so long. I saw Nicole from the corner of my eye, prying her right hand into her mouth, feeling for any missing teeth. I didn't even realize that I started doing the same thing. All in place, but as I felt them I could sense the blood dripping down my throat. This was a large nosebleed, larger than usual. I had to keep swallowing the iron bitterness while we ran, which made me nauseous. That's when I felt Nicole drag me to a stop nearly instantly with all her strength. I looked back at her and she was staring off into the distance, her eyes riddled with doubt and madness of what she was seeing. She slightly nodded for me to look behind me. I slowly turned my head around and froze. Out of terror or survival instinct, I don't know. But what I saw was deeply disturbing.

A slight mist was rising out of the ground near the Old Library, enveloping the whole area in a grey veil. That's when I saw it, what had frightened Nicole. A form emerged from behind the building, a tall being that looked like a humanoid. It was seethed among the mist, but I could make out a few details in addition to its husk-like profile. There was no lower jaw any more, if there ever even was. A large tongue was hanging from its maw, slithering around, piercing the air around it. I slumbered forwards with slow, innocuous steps, but with each step I could hear the ground die beneath its crusty feet, hidden in the midst. Nicole squeezed my hand with force, nearly breaking my fingers, bringing me back to reality. This was really happening. I could see that it still had some kind of hair on top its misformed head, but some of it was... scalped off, leaving a few recognizable, bloodied patches on its cranium. It was walking away from us when I noticed the few jutting teeth left on its upper jaw - most looked like they had been ripped off. My mind was going increasingly more in circles, switching from survival-based fear and sheer terror of going insane with all the things we had seen and experienced during these days. And then it saw us.

It turned its head slowly and positioned its body to face us. The bare mouth was gigantic from this angle, large enough to fit my arms into. It didn't have eyes, not even sockets on its greyish skin, half-disappearing in the mist. Then it shrieked. It was an unimaginable sound, like a low, dull hum from across a vast crevasse, bounding and echoing over millennia from a world long gone, only now reaching our generation. The sound boomed inside my ears not loudly, but deeply, penetrating my thoughts and forcing me on my knees. Nicole held up, but the creature now saw me move when I fell down. The sound stopped as fast as it had began. Then the disgusting being, whatever it was or had been, raised its maw into the sky and raised its two arm-like appendages, without visible hands, up into the air. Then I understood. As I heard the same sound booming from all around us, from the farthest reaches of the Earth, I realized that this thing was not alone. It had called its friends to join him. The other resonating sounds stopped abruptly as the being lowered its arms with unimaginable speed and belched a very familiar sound into the sky. I could feel my head nearly explode as I saw Nicole falling onto the ground, holding her head and writhing in enormous pain. It was the buzz. Stronger, harder and more powerful than before. I thought about the apparent truth, of my mom and dad, all my friends, of the lovely night before any of this happened. When I raised my head as the buzz still rang inside my body, I could see the being standing before me. Five of them, all slightly different yet still the same. Carved to resemble something that once was and something that wants to return. One of them placed their tongue on Nicole's head ans she began convulsing, her pupils spinning in her head. I felt a tongue slide into my ear as well.

Times long gone whisked around in my head. The ancients craving, wanting, needing... taking what is theirs. How they twisted the world unto their own sight, what seemed to us like force was to them a simple harvest. This was not the first time it had happened and it would not be the last. Why they were letting us know I could not comprehend, but the history of all that was and ever will be boomed inside my thoughts, powered by the paralyzing buzz. I knew it was over and my time had come, feeling my mind slipping deeper into their devious machinations, their need for my soul and image. Then I felt a strange sensation. Something that reminded me of... something. I was spiraling down, but the speed was winding down as I anchored into that sensation, that taste, that... smell. The blood. The blood. In the sink. Under the door. In my throat. My nose was bleeding, and I could feel my body again amongst the vortex. With a sudden jolt, I was back, feeling the thing penetrate my ear with its slimy tongue. I reached into my pocket and grabbed what I could, quickly swinging it at the creature. The nail scissors sliced the tongue in two as it shrieked in horror and fell back, draining the life out of the ground beneath its feet, turning it into somber ash and mud. I sprang up towards Nicole and cut off the tongue from the other being - the rest had gone away, possibly looking for their own prey to succumb. She jumped up from the edge of the cortex, visibly back to her senses and I grabbed her hand and we began sprinting out of that place. To somewhere safe. But I knew nowhere would be safe. But I could end this. We could try. We could end this evil circle of life, death and suffering. We were not pawns of the ancients no more. We were free from their touch. Or so I thought as we ran into the man with the top hat.

Silence

"Good morning. It's not every millennia you see such strong-willed individuals, at least from the so-called Human Kingdom."

The tall man, with his head hanging down and hat slanted impossibly on its side, was looking down at us as we gasped for air. When we had run into him, I could feel my heart stop for a moment, felt like my lifeforce was drained out of me, but not completely.

"I could offer you an explanation, but I believe you already know how this will end. I do commend your courage, if nothing else, and your ability to withstand the howls of Beyond. But you are done for, this you understand. It only takes a small sacrifice and you are repayed with eternal life, once to become One again. Now, the leap is yours to take, or mine to give. It is up to you."

Nicole hung her head on my chest, and her warmth intrigued me. She was my first real kiss, my first real interest. The thought of returning started to sound better and better among the despair, and battling our fate would be futile now. We looked into each others eyes, fell into a madly deep and passionate kiss while tall man grinned above us, cackling silently in shadows cast by the morning rays. We pulled away from our kiss, her soft lips quivering, but she would not cry. She nodded, the vortex had shown her the way home as well. I nodded back, and reached into my mouth, grabbing hold my teeth and jawbone, gasping quicker and quicker, seeing Nicole do the same, feeling the cold breath and sensation of the tall man leering overhead, waiting for this glorious moment to be over. I gasped and gasped and breathed faster and faster and closed my eyes and I ripped my lower jaw out of my head, feeling terrible agony, but the tears would not flow, not until I saw Nicole do the same to herself, when I dug my nails into my skull, drawing deep and bloodied lines over and across my scalp. Our disfigured being gave in, but neither could feel the tears, only agony, suffering, self-controlled suicide and self-mutilation. The tall man took off his hat and drew something shiny out of it, now looking more serious than before, no smile to be seen. I looked at Nicole one more time. Our Return would be glorious and we would be together again. The tall man spoke in a soft voice that pierced our minds with a voice of truth.

"And now a little something for our saviour."

The scalpel glistened in the misty morning as drips of blood trickled down my forehead and touched my upper lip.

That's when I realized it. Ha. My nosebleed had stopped.

 


Brian Densworth was not always unlucky. Throughout his childhood he was blessed with a gift - the gift of sharing his unlimited luck with the people around. All he needed to do was to embrace a person he came into contact with and the rest was history. A lonely bum on the side of a road, lost all will to live - a hug from Brian and he could guide the hobo to a better outcome. A widower left with three children and no place to live due to the depression - a loving caress from Brian and the sun shined on her life again through lucky breaks. A down-and-out computer developer contempting suicide - but a touch from Brian's delicate hand and an apple began blooming.

But soon it would all change.

When Brian reached puberty, his smile became brighter than the sun, due to the happiness created by the help he had given to people around him. He hadn't told anyone about his special talent, yet. He had not faced any misfortune in his life until that day, September 1st 2001. That was when he laid his eyes on Monica. Like an anti-Brian, she was full of hate, grueling emotions and pain. She sat next to him in Bio class during their first semester, and Brian could feel her torment - anger created by a hatred flowing through her family, passed on from parent to child for centuries. He could sense all of this from her surrounding karmic paths and decided it was time for a change. To make her enjoy life with a sudden change in luck.

During the class he had slipped her a note, asking her to meet him under the bleachers of Yo Mama Stadium after sundown. He waited eagerly, but soon began to think she wouldn't show up. Just as he was about to leave, she appeared.

Dressed in clothing so dark and black that it reminded Brian of death and loss, she walked up to him, blowing a large black bubble from the dark licorice gum she was vehemently chewing on. She stopped right in front of him and popped the bubble, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

"So, whaddaya want? A BJ? HJ? Full-on-full, corn dog special? I'm wasting my time here if you ain't saying naught."

He could sense the pain inside her and wanted to give her a helping hand. "Actually, I want... I just want to help you out. How bout we just hold hands... and then hug."

She looked at him with scorn, chewing on the gum loudly. "Sure, whatevs, better than my daddy woulda done. That'll be 15 bucks, up front yeah? Cough it up."

Brian drew the money from his wallet and handed it over, when she grabbed the cash and quickly pocketed it beneath her dark dress. "Alright, boy, come get it."

He leaned in with high hopes and all smiles, feeling how he could change her bad luck in life to that of prosperity and enjoyment with a single embrace. As he put his hands around her, he could feel a warm aura surrounding them both, like always, and he let the good luck flow into her softly, but swiftly. However, things went from bad to worse. As she placed her arms around him as well, blowing another bubble, he started feeling ill. Something went wrong.

The pain and anxiety, coersed into a large stanning of bad luck, was starting to flow into him from her hands. The good luck he intended to give her wasn't flowing into her cosmic aura, it was dissipating into the night sky, in waves of green, red and blue. He felt more nauseous as time passed - it was as if their embrace had lasted forever. She let go, finally, and Brina fell down to his knees, gasping for air.

"Ya know", she said with wit, "guys like yous always comin' around, thinking they can help. I knows what you was up to from Day One, no, Day None. Luck ain't all that helpful when you think you got it all good. Ever think that you just doin' this for your own good, not others? I'd say keep it, keep feeling good, but the unfortunate truth is that it ain't all there no more."

She leaned down and whispered into his ear.

"...try having some bad luck for once, Brian."

As he was huffing on the ground and trying to regain his senses, she walked away briskly into the night. He stood up, feeling woozy and felt a bit gassy all of a sudden. Well, just a fart, he thought. It's a normal bodily function. He released some air, but to his bad fortune, he know shat his pants.

The following days weren't easy for Brian. No matter where he went or what he did, he managed to shit his pants. And those weren't even the worst consequences of the disappearance of his power and loss of good luck. As he was attempting to get his driver's license, a truck driver tossed his left-over whisky out of his window and it landed in Brian's mouth, causing him to get a DUI during his license test and banning him for life from driving. He fell asleep during Bio, with Monica not around, and dreamt of riding fantastical unicorns grazing in the wild, only to wake up having soaked his pants from a wet dream, with the whole class laughing at him.

Things had to change.

He scrounged up what money he had left in his junior savings account and told his parents that he couldn't go on like this no more - he wanted to defy fate and move to another town. Maybe there things would be different. As he exited the taxi to the airport, he felt happy once more; he hadn't suffered from any ill consequences in the last two days and he could feel a warmth surrounding him once again - a slight warmth, but a warmth nonetheless. Today things would change, and he would arrive to his new home later that day. He went through the security checks and enjoyed a nice, cold root beer in the Departures lounge. He heard a faint call for boarding that he thought was his, and he reached down in his pocket to check the flight number.

United Airlines Flight 93.

It was gonna be a good day.

 
Plz write a story of a young lawn care professional and how I had an erotic encounter with a housewife while on the job
 
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