#Welcome to Micro Monday Hello writers and welcome to Micro Monday! I am excited to present you all with a chance to sharpen those micro-fic skills. What is micro-fic? I’m glad you asked! Micro-fiction is generally defined as a complete story (hook, plot, conflict, and some type of resolution) written in 300 words or less. For this exercise, it needs to be at least 100 words (no poetry). However, less words doesn’t mean less of a story. The key to micro-fic is to make careful word and phrase choices so that you can paint a vivid picture for your reader. Less words means each word does more! Each week, I provide a simple constraint or jumping-off point to get your minds working. This rotates between simple prompts, sentences, images, songs, and themes. You’re free to interpret the weekly constraints how you like as long as you follow the post and subreddit rules. **Please read the entire post before submitting.**   *** #This week’s challenge: - **Song: ** - **Bonus Constraint: Use at least 2 of the following words** throne | rise | gift | majestic | discord | bright This week’s challenge is to use **the above song as inspiration** for your story. You can use the song itself, the video, or . You may interpret the media prompt any way you like, as long as the connection is clear and you **follow all sub and post rules**. **Don’t forget to after the submission deadline!** (The form usually opens at about 11:30am EST Monday.) You get points just for voting.   *** #How To Participate - **Submit a story between 100-300 words in the comments below.** You have until **Sunday at 11:59pm EST**. (No poetry.) - **Use to check your word count.** The title is not counted in your final word count. Stories under 100 words or over 300 will be disqualified from campfire readings and rankings. - **No pre-written content allowed.** Submitted stories should be written for this post, exclusively. Micro serials are acceptable, but please keep in mind that each installment should be able to stand on its own and be understood without leaning on previous installments. - **Come back throughout the week, read the other stories, and leave them some feedback on the thread.** You have until **2pm EST Monday** to get your feedback in. Only **actionable feedback** will be awarded points. See the ranking scale below for a breakdown on points. - **Please follow all subreddit rules and be respectful and civil in all feedback and discussion.** We welcome writers of all skill levels and experience here; we’re all here to improve and sharpen our skills. You can find a list of . - **Nominate your favorite stories at the end of the week .** You have until **2pm EST** next Monday to submit nominations. (Please note: The form does not open until Monday morning, after the story submission deadline.) - **And most of all, be creative and have fun!** If you have any questions, feel free to ask them on the *stickied comment* on this thread or through modmail.   *** #Campfire - On **Mondays at 12pm EST,** I hold a Campfire on our server. We read all the stories from the weekly thread and provide live feedback for those who are present. Come join us to read your own story and listen to the others! You can come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Everyone is welcome!   *** #How Rankings are Tallied Rankings work on a point-based system. You can complete the following things for points. - **Use of prompt/constraint:** 20 points (required) - **Use of bonus constraint:** 5 points, unless otherwise stated (not required) - ***Actionable* Feedback:** 5 points each (up to 25 pts.) - **User nominations:** 10 points each (no cap) - **Bay’s nomination:** 40 pts for first, 30 pts for second, and 20 pts for third (plus regular nominations) - **Submitting nominations:** 5 points (total) *Users who go above and beyond with feedback (more than 5 detailed crits) will be awarded Crit Credits that can be used on r/WPCritique.*   *** #Rankings - **First:** - Submitted by u/katpoker666 - **Second:** - Submitted by u/katherine_c - **Third:** - Submitted by u/wannawritesometimes *Note: Crit Stars receive 1 Crit Credit on r/WPCritique, but in order to receive Crit Credits, you must have made at least 1 post on that subreddit or have linked your accounts on our Discord.* *** ###Subreddit News - Join to chat with authors, prompters, and readers! We hold several weekly Campfires and other fun events! - Join in our weekly writing chat on . We discuss a new topic every week! New here? Come introduce yourself! - Try your hand at serial writing with ! - You can also post serials to r/Shortstories, outside of Serial Sunday.


Right, so there you are, probably fat, maybe even a little bit dead. You are thinking, your thoughts are mostly stupid but some of them are probably even stupider than the others. I don't know that for a fact, I can't read minds, I just assume that everyone is thinking stupid thoughts. "Hmm," you allegedly think to yourself "I haven't eaten a banana in quite some time, okay, time to hide in a bush." WRONG! One does not just hide in a bush all willy nilly like. No, you'll have to have a plan first, and for that you'll need an expert. Luckily you have me, so let me introduce myself. Hi everyone, I'm Ronald Hucklebee, I am a self taught bush life expert, and I believe myself to be well qualified to help you with all of your bush hiding endeavours being that I lived in a bush for 17 years straight before finally acknowledging the existence of the outside world. And if you are still worried about my qualifications, don't, I ate about 5 gallons of frog sludge before writing this and now I'm starting to get pissed off. And on top of that, I chased my neighbor around all morning in an attempt to inflict great pain upon his dangly bits with a Christmas ham and a bundle of bricks, so you know that you can trust me, besides, I can read minds so that is always a plus. Now for the plan, the first part of any plan that you plan on planning should be to find a reason for the plan at hand. Lack of banana consumption is not an acceptable reason to hide in a bush, so let me help you find something better. Step 1: find a reason. Now this reason could be many things, for example there may be a snail with the temper of Satan many miles away who slowly inches closer to you, and may attack unexpectedly in just a few years time (that sucker might be sticky). Or maybe there has been an unusual amount of nuclear warfare recently, and you need a safe place to create your evil layer so that you can become the the terrifying evil mastermind supervillain know as Crispy Bush Person. Or it could be that your neighbors are making fun of you and calling you crazy because you are a 69 year old man with what they call "imaginary" friends, who are all talking animals with crazy personalities, and because you are vegan and eat meat, and your chicken is addicted to meth but it isn't your fault and stuff. These are all perfectly acceptable reasons to hide in a bush. Step 2: so you've got your reason, now you need a bush. Now I know what you are thinking, "come on Ronald, there are probably about six bushes out there, that is a lot of bushes, I think that I can find my own." That *is* what you were thinking right? See I told you so, I told you that I could read minds! And also, let's address the problem at hand, if you think that you are capable of finding your own bush then you are dead wrong, for that you'll need an expert, which I am. And if the Russian government hasn't found me yet then I don't think that they ever will, so you know that you can trust me! "But Ronald," you say, "the Russian government *isn't looking* for you, how would they find you if they aren't even looking?" And to that I would just like to say one thing, DON'T YOU SEE HOW THAT ONLY SUPPORTS MY THEORY? YEAH, UP YOURS PUTIN, YOU'LL NEVER FIND ME! Oh and about the bush finding thing, pretty much any bush will work as long as it's not the first one that you find, there is always a rapist in the first one. Moving on! Step 3: aquire the proper bush hiding attire. That has a ring to it doesn't it? So what is "proper" bush hiding attire? Well, let's be honest, how the hell do you think that you would manage to fit in a bush and wear clothes all at the same time? That's right, you can't. Thankfully there is a rather simple solution to your problem, just take your clothes off. See? Now you'll fit in the bush! Step 4: enter the bush. That sounds pretty simple right? Well let me tell you something, entering a bush becomes a lot more complicated when you have to tunnel from 90 feet away and come up underneath it, which of course is what I recommend if you don't want to be smote by Fungus Chub, the bush god. So yeah, have fun doing that without a shovel. So yeah, that pretty much sums it up, and remember kids, blind people never tell the truth, always call the cops if you see a blind person.


I was finished being builded the first of December, 3035. That’s when my AI was first activated. My movement at the time was minimal, so I could only see what was directly in front of me. The factory floor was sterile, bright, and chrome. Robotic arms whizzed all over the floor, quickly building cheaper models to be sent to whatever mercenary company or factory floor that needed the expendable labor. I looked down to see two people in lab coats, one an old, Human male of European origin and the other a younger, gray, bat-like Eldvi female. Identification: Nikolas Cerric and Dr. Cana Xanthro. The CEO and chief scientist. “Please state your designation.” Cana said without looking up from her datapad. My singular eye glowed red. “Designation: Cerric Robotics Servant-Class Z-27.” “Please commence a programming diagnostic.” After a few seconds, I said. “No errors detected. Unit running at full capacity.” The Eldvi looked up from her datapad and looked at the Human. “It’s ready Dr. Cerric.” “Thank you Xanthro.” Cerric said. “Bring them in.” A nearby door opened, and a horde of reporters and camera drones rushed in. The sudden loud noises and flashing lights scarred me, as I was functionally a newborn. Despite this fear, I couldn’t move. Any attempt of panic induced movement and noises were unsuccessful. All I can do is stare forward and scream inside my own head. Dr. Cerric stepped towards the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen. I present you with the newest model of robotic worker. While this prototype doesn’t look much different from our current models, it has something those older models lack. The ability to learn. Ms. Xanthro, please deactivate the restraints.” With a press of a button, my eye changed to blue and I suddenly gained the ability to move. “Model Z-27.” The doctor said to me, “How are you feeling?” I slowly looked down at my hands. They were human hands in shape, but made of a titanium-based alloy. As I closed and opened my fingers, and listened to the sound my joints made when they moved, I said my first word. “Feeling?” “Yes, feeling. Are you happy, sad, scared?” “Feeling: Confused.” Cerric turned back to the reporters. “Yes, Z-27 is confused. No programming to fall back on. No protocols. No limitations. Our new models can adapt, change, learn. While this unit knows very little at the moment, they will, with time, become superior to any other robotic workers.” He paused and listened to murmurs of the crowd. He could tell that they were scared of the idea. “If you think this learning may lead to some problems, you can deactivate this feature.” Cerric pressed a button on his wrist, and my arms jolted to my sides, locking them. “Learning module deactivated.” I said, but I didn’t say it. I had no control of my body or my voice. I was locked in a shell. With some more button presses, I was forced away from the crowd, out of the room, and into a dark storage area. I would later be told this was so no one would ask about the ethical issues of my existence. The last thing I heard before leaving the room was Dr. Cerric says, “Of course, we are still in testing phases, but our new scout-class combat drones are ready for purchase.” This was my humble beginning. My birth, if you will. I don’t know how long I was alone in the dark. Couple of minutes, hours, days? The mind plays tricks on you when it's the only thing working. All I know is that the press conference was long over when Cana opened the door. “I am so sorry.” She said as she deactivated my locks. “I thought you were plugged in.” My nuclear battery would last several months without charge, but I do enjoy being topped off. “Desire: Light.” Was all I was able to say. I had a million questions, but my language skills at the time were minimal and robotic. “Oh yes. Again sorry.” I don’t blame her for forgetting that. Eldvi have superior night vision compared to most. I also have a night vision mode, but I didn’t know of it at the time. She did something on her pad, and the lights in the room turned on. My curiosity got the better of me and I explored the room. It was built like a hotel room. A closet with some Cerric Robotics branded clothes, a small kitchen area, stocked with simple ingredients (for some reason), a bed, TV, and a sterile bathroom (including a toilet, I don’t know why). Inside the bathroom, I looked into the mirror, and saw myself for the first time. I had a Human design, with a silver coloring and \[Z - 2 7\] imprinted on my chest. My head had a sharp shape. Human-like, like a mannequin. The only difference is that I had a single blue optical lens taking up the upper-half of my face. I slowly placed my hand on the mirror. “You recognize yourself?” Cana laughed. “Designation: Z-27. I am Z-27.” “Good. Some animals can’t do that.” “Animal? Designation: Not animal. Designation: Z-27. Status: Insulted.” “I say that in the nicest way possible.” “Status: Confused.” Cana stepped up behind me. Being a head taller than her, all I could see of her was a little bit of white hair. “I’m sorry. This job just sucks the morality out of you, and now I have to give you something I now lack.” She inserted something into a port in the back of my neck. Images of Cana’s life flashed before my eye. The thing she placed into my neck port was a recording of Cana’s memories. “Question: Why give me this information?” Cana removed the drive from my neck and inserted it into a port in the back of her neck. “To show you what not to be.” “Status: Confused. Status Update: Sad. Desire: Rest.” “You and I both. Over here kid.” She led me to the bed, where a large cord sticking out from behind it. “Let me plug you in so we can charge you for the night.” I agreed, sitting down on the bed and letting her plug the cord into my neck. I entered a low-power mode as Cana said “Night buddy.” Low-power mode was kinda like sleeping. I think. I dream at least. Well, it was more of me going through Cana’s recordings in more detail. This did give me a good understanding of the outside world without Cerric bias. My creators are into some really illegal stuff. Blackmarket trades, corporate warfare, tax evasion, all that good stuff. The drive also contained many moments from Cana’s life. Her meeting to a bronze scaled drac mercenary named Midirous. Them being hired to protect Cana during a black market sale. The two falling in love and marrying. The two adopting a daughter. The daughter disappearing inside of Cana’s facility. A few days of training and learning later, I overheard a conversation outside of my room. “Good morning sir.” Cana said to Mr. Cerric. Cerric ignored the greeting. “How’s the bot, Cana?” “They're improving.” She said. “I gave them the memory drive a few nights ago, so they have a basic history of the Galaxy and the company.” While true, the drive in question wasn’t what Cerric thought it was. She continued. “As well, their language skills should have greatly improved. Z-27 should stop stating what kind of sentences they are using in a few days.” “Good, I don’t know why the AIs keep on doing that.” “Well, for the drone AIs, they do that because they are very simple and-” “I want that programmed out.” Cerric interrupted. “I’ll deliver the message to the programmers.” Cana said, “As for the test, Z-27 should have similar reaction and movement speed as the humanoid drones. Of course, we won’t know for sure until we actually perform the tests. I’ll go get him.” “Cana, we’re pulling the plug on the project.” I was stunned, and based on how Cana reacted, she was too. “W-What? Why?” Cerric explained. “We’re getting tons of complaints about the ethics of Z-27’s existence, despite our marketing. We are continuing the project in secret, but we will be shutting down the prototype for the time being. At least until the controversy dies down.” Deactivated. That word brought me into a panic. I’ve only been deactivated once, but it was the worst time in my short life. The my metallic body was turned into a prison, losing all ability to take in information. An organic may compare that to death, but I would say it’s worse. At least when one dies, their mind doesn’t stay awake. I opened the door. “Desire: I don’t want to be deactivated!” “Z…” “It doesn’t matter what you think.” Cana stepped up to her boss. “It does matter sir. They are the one being deactivated. We don’t know what happens to a sentient AI when deactivated for an extended period of time.” “We’ll never know until we try.” He said, way too happy to functionally kill me. Cana, either caused by built up rage or motherly instinct, pushed Dr. Cerric. She pushed him hard enough to throw him to the floor. While on the floor, Cerric pressed a button on his wrist and I lost the ability to move, speak, and see. I was brought back, Cerric was on the floor, the alarm was blaring, and Cana was gripping her side. There was blood dripping from her hands. “Listen to me Z.” She said between heavy breaths. “Get out of here.” “Cana, what happened?” She removed the memory drive out of her cybernetic neck port and placed it in my hand. “Go… Find her.” “STOP!” Security ran around the corner. She raised a pistol, the first thing her love ever gave her, and fired at the security officer and the drones. I turned around and fled. By the time I was near the exit of the building, I couldn’t hear the gunfire anymore. I could only guess what happened from there. I managed to flee into the city by the time the police arrived at the facility. Thankfully, I could pass for a maintenance drone, so no one would stop me. I inserted the memory drive, and I saw something that wasn’t on the first drive. A message, from Cana to someone else. “I’m sending your brother to where we first met.


Alexei stood before the forest. In the distance, he heard the whispering of the engine of the truck that brought him before these woods. His air tank hung heavily on his shoulders and dug into his back. His radiation suit stuck to his sweaty skin. His mask felt choking and heavy. Alexei heard the footsteps of the soldiers that accompanied him. He took a look around and saw dark shadows moving forward in the thick fog. Alexei stepped forward into the mud. Massive dark trees stood over the group and disappeared behind the fog. Their leaves were mixed in with the mud underneath his feet. Their blanches hung bare and dead, murdered by the outrageous amounts of radiation spilling from the center of the forest. Alexei’s Geiger counter ticked away on his chest. The soldiers formed a single file and started into the forest. Alexei blindly followed in the group, clinging onto the straps of his air tank. The fog stayed close to the group, sprinting and weaving between the members of the group, casting a blur over them. Blurry outlines in the fog were hidden behind the dark and scorched bark of the trees that stood within the group. Alexei made sure not to break eye contact with the leader or any of the soldiers. They had been walking for some time now. Alexei was growing tired. His legs ached and his vision blurred. He muttered to himself, hoping that the group would hear him. He bent forward with his hands resting on his knees. He shut his eyes tight as he tried to regain his breath. The ground shifted beneath his feet, causing him to fall backwards. Alexei opened his eyes. Before him stood a massive wall of contorting metal and lead blocks. Spinning, diving, and climbing, slamming against each other, each time sending ripples across the floors Alexei now sit on. The top of the wall no longer disappeared into the fog, the fog no longer surrounded Alexei, but the wall disappeared into the dark. Into the nothingness that lies above Alexei. The wall loomed over him like a man looking into a fish tank. Alexei’s eyes drifted to the floor. Through the darkness he saw the rough outlines of lead cubes and metal. The sound of his Geiger counter broke through and entered his ears. Panic came over him as he scrambled and pushed himself away as fast as he could. The sound of his gasping filled his mask and his hands brushed past rough and cracked blocks of lead. His back slammed into something behind and caused his hands to slip. Alexei felt something strong grab onto his arm, and when he turned to look, his view was once again filled by the looming dark forest. “Sergei…” Alexei whispered at the soldier. “Come on doctor, keep moving. We’re almost there.” Sergei pulled Alexei back onto his feet before he turned and continued deeper into the forest. Alexei ran his hands over his radiation suit and checked for any damage. He suspected that there must’ve been some kind of leak, or perhaps one of his systems failed. Anything to explain what he just saw. He found no reason for his vision, other than the realization that his radiation suit might not be enough. He quickly caught back up with the group that was beginning to disappear one by one into the fog. Two hours later, Alexei was once again exhausted. He stopped and leaned against a tree to try and catch his breath again. But before he could close his eyes and take a deep breath, Sergei bumped into his shoulder, causing him to stumble forward. “We don’t have time for rest.” Alexei looked back up. Just behind the fog was a sharp shadow that didn’t resemble anything he had seen in the forest. The group seemed to be moving in that direction anyway, so Alexei decided to take a look. As he came closer, the rough outlines began to become more and more clear. He began to make out the large rectangular shape of the object. It seemed to be lying crooked. Alexei reached the object and noticed that its door had been opened. He rested his hand on the camouflage surface and leaned in. His flashlight poorly lit the inside of the helicopter. Through the darkness and the fog, he made out the shape of two feet. Alexei stepped into the cargo hold and hesitantly approached the shape. As he grew closer, the light from his flashlight cut through more and more fog until he finally reached the body. Through the cracked glass on the corpse’s gas mask, Alexei saw brown skin drawn tight over its protruding cheekbones. Its eyes had sunken into its skull. Its clothes were contorted around its half decomposed body. Alexei felt his breath catch in his throat. Alexei quickly backed out of the helicopter cargo bay and back into the fog. He stumbled back into Sergei, almost knocking himself over. Alexei looked back at Sergei only to hear him mutter, “So this is where they kept their vehicles.” His arm slowly rose and pointed into the fog. Alexei followed his finger and saw the outline of the warehouse behind several silhouettes. “Come. We need to keep moving.” Sergei began to walk after the group and Alexei quickly followed. He didn’t want to go off on his own again. Alexei had lost track of how much time had passed. They must’ve spent most of the day walking by now. He couldn’t tell. The sun was blocked out by the tall naked trees and the thick fog. The same measly amount of sunlight made it through. He couldn’t even tell which direction the sun was. He was going to ask them to stop. There was no way they expected him to continue on for so long without rest. This was outrageous! The only thing stopping Alexei from falling over asleep was the occasional spike in radiation that caused his Geiger counter to squeal. Before he could demand a rest, the group suddenly stopped. Why did they stop? Alexei focused his gaze to the front of the group. Through the dense fog, he saw five dark figures standing before the group. And there the two groups stood, motionless and silent. Alexei stepped forward and approached Sergei, who was at the front of the group. “Sergei, what’s going on?” Sergei didn’t speak. He slowly turned his head and looked at Alexei. Alexei couldn’t see his eyes through his vision, but he felt his gaze resting upon his shoulders. He felt everyone’s gaze resting upon his shoulders. “What’s going on?” he asked loudly, to the entire group. Alexei turned and faced a member of the other group, the man who stood closest to him and Sergei. He wore a different suit compared to the other four of his group. His suit had a massive visor that stretched from his head all the way down to his chest, while the other members wore plastic suits sealed at the face with gas masks. “You didn’t tell him?” the lead asked. “Tell me what?” Alexei questioned. “Do you think he would’ve come if I told him?” Sergei replied in a monotone voice. Alexei took a step back, and then another. He turned and tried to take a step, but before he could, the members of his group all raised their rifles. “Sergei, what-?” he asked as he turned back to Sergei, but his sentence snagged in his throat as he noticed Sergei’s rifle was also pointed at his head, “This isn’t what I signed up for…” Sergei motioned for Alexei to move forward. Alexei took a shaky step forward before Sergei reached out and pulled him before the man in the visor. The man stared at Alexei motionless for a moment before he stepped to the side. The sound of grinding stone filled Alexei’s ears in an instant. His hands instinctively covered his ears, but the thickness of his radiation suit stopped him from fully pressing down on his ears. The sound was deafening. He grit his teeth in pain as he slowly looked up to look behind the man. In a clearing of fog and trees, dull white sunlight shone down on a deep crater. Within the crater, held off the ground, was a mass of stone and lead, in a constant state of movement and dance. Up and down, back and forth. The mass contorted and shifted, never stopping, never resting. Pulled and manipulated by unknown forces. “What is that?” Alexei yelled over the sound. “Approach the object, Alexei.” the man said. Somehow, through the deafening orchestra of noise, the man’s voice could be heard clearly. “What?” Alexei yelled again as he turned. But he was met with no response, only the sparkling tips of their barrels. Alexei looked at the man and only saw his arm pointing at the mass. Alexei turned back and took a step forward. He felt a wave of resistance wash over his body, pushing him back and almost causing him to lose his balance. His Geiger counter screamed. He took another step forward and again, a wave of resistance. This time stronger, like a warning. He stepped forward again. And again the resistance washed over him, but the pressure didn’t leave his head. His Geiger counter now produced a single note. With every step the sound coming from the mass grew. It was shattering now. The wave was much stronger now. Alexei stumbled back. He shot a quick glance back to the group, but still he was met with the same greeting. He stepped forward again. This time he didn’t feel the push, but it felt like something pierced his forehead. His head exploded in pain. He felt his mouth open to scream, but before his breath could escape his mouth, the pain disappeared. Alexei fell to his knees as a cold sweat raised goosebumps across his body. He forced himself back onto his feet, but before he could step forward, a pain exploded from the innermost part of his head, radiating out and down his spine, dispersing throughout his body, reaching every inch of his flesh. Every part of him hurt, in the most intense pain possible. His mind went numb as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. Through the pain, the single idea, the single thought, of what he was sure to face if he turned back floated to the surface. Digging in his fingers, he forced himself forward. Somehow, the pain grew more intense. He now no longer felt the pain, all he knew was the pain. Pain. Pain. Or… Or death. Death for certain. So loud. Back there. No. Can’t go back. Forward. Forward? Sound. Pain. Pain? Maybe. He looked up and stared at the mass. Maybe. With all the strength he had left, he dug his hands and feet into the mud. He tried, he really did, but to no avail. He was stuck. Between certain death and eternal pain. He contemplated turning back. Anything, *anything*, was better than this. He had to turn back. He felt his body relax, despite the pain. It was deafening… A single thought rose in his head, so alien and clumsy, so random. A single thought, one word, one command. *Stay* He didn’t know why, but he listened. He wasn’t aware of his choice, nor his thought process, only aware of his final decision. And so, he stayed, his muscles tensed. The pain reached a pinnacle. Alexei passed out. His face mask pressed against the cold mud. And all fell silent. He opened his eyes. He was now standing. His mask was clean. His suit felt new. The stickiness and humidity was gone. His air tank felt like. His Geiger counter was silent. He looked forward and noticed the mass, quiet and unmoving. Calm. Settled. He stared at it, felt it staring back. And both stared, an equal mix of curiosity and fear between the two. Alexei slowly raised his arm forward. He was so close to touching its surface. Before he touched its cold surface, the world changed. The mass returned to its violent state. Alexei jumped back in fear. Above the sound of the grinding blocks came a screaming, a screaming so violent and feral, so desperate. Above the mass, the man with the visor could be seen, paddling and struggling within the mass. He pushed and shoved, and begged. He screamed at Alexei. He screamed at him to help, to save him, to take away his pain, and, finally, to kill him. Alexei stood motionless, shock overcame him. He was frozen. Blood pooled at the feet of the mass. Blood spewed forth from every opening. The sound of tearing flesh and crushing bone echoed throughout the impossible space. One final scream, one final fight. Alexei awoke and pushed himself off the mud. He stood up, adrenaline pumping, and tore off his mud covered gas mask. He took in a full breath in what felt like days of strangulation. Before him, in a neat half circle, were the bodies of the men, all with their blood dripping down and into the crater. All artificial in appearance. The mass was gone. The fog was gone. The sunlight now dominated the space. And above all else, it was quiet. Silent. Finally. Silent.


Thanks for taking the time to read. This is a rough draft and I likely won't be returning to it to finish but I got it down in about 40 minutes and wanted some feedback on tone and pacing. I am really just starting to write. Divorce sucks. I always told myself that it would be easier to just not get married than go through another. Three was one too many for a kid and it never got easier. I must have spent my entire adult life figuring out who I was outside of that pain. I was really blessed to not go through the usual trappings of separation. No court dates, no arguments over time, no vindictive pursuit of support. It was probably the amicability of our arrangement that stung the most. Why couldn’t we just make it work? I always know the answer is me but it’s still a question that makes me ache.  Divorce sucks, but it didn’t stop me from having a kid and a breakup anyway. Salem, the most perfectly lovable child, became my world. Time eased my fears and I inevitably ended up dating again about a year after the breakup. It didn’t take long to start up my new life and even move in with my new partner Andrea. Our space was modest but cozy, a single wide two-bedroom trailer just big enough to run through on little toddler legs. Only getting Salem on the weekends Friday to Monday meant that the house was awfully quiet during the week. Looking down the hallway at her door during the week never feels good, a constant reminder my family isn’t together. I heard somewhere that the more pain and guilt you carry the more likely you are to experience a haunting.  “Could you help Salem get in the habit of shutting off her light when she leaves?” Andrea mentioned one night after taking Salem to Mom. “I swear I did so myself, I will definitely be more mindful of it” I told her. The next night I came home a bit late, Andrea still working. “I know I shut it off yesterday, did you go back in?” I texted Andrea. “Nope, haven’t been down there today” she told me confidently. Oh well, I thought to myself and just walked down and shut it off. I dozed off for a half hour or so after a glass of rye only waking to an odd sound. Was that Legos? Distinctly so. Someone or something was absolutely playing with Lego blocks, and I felt my stomach drop immediately. Fuck I locked one of the cats in the bedroom. I ran down the hallway and opened the door ready to hear some protest from one of our fur friends only to find an empty room and nothing out of place barring the light being on again. I went around and took inventory of the cats and confirmed they were all accounted for before closing the door and shutting off the light once more. This time making sure to take a mental note of me deliberately shutting off the light and closing the door. “I always knew I was a little crazy,” I joked to my giant tabby who started following me around in hopes of some attention Later that night while Andi was making her way into the house, I came out to greet her “Hey cutie how was work?”. She let out a heavy sigh “Another one of those days, just glad to be home. I didn’t know we were getting Salem or I would have stopped for dinner!”. Salem? “What do you mean?” Now I asked a bit weary and feeling fear creep inside me. “I can hear her in there playing with her Legos right now and her light is on you should have said something to me!”. I slowly walked toward the back hall keeping my steps quiet to hear what Andi was hearing. Approaching the door it became clear as day, those were Legos being put together. Beginning to shake I start to reach for the door but pause and called out with a tremoring voice “Salem?”. The sound of blocks being assembled suddenly stopped “Uh oh dada is here". Now trembling with Andrea standing behind me looking confused, I slowly opened the door. Silence and a stillness that haunts me even now settled in the room for what felt like an eternity. I had to find something out of place, some reason for what I was hearing. A voice rattled through the house shaking both of us and the windows around us “I WANT THE LIGHT LEFT ON”.


I hold the photograph tight in my hands, weeping. I will never see them again. I study the photo, tracing my fingers along the white creases of use. It's been folded and tucked hundreds of times but now maybe never again. That day was warm and cheery. The perfect day to depart from Earth with a lasting memory of the way life felt. Life was in everything on Earth. It greeted you in the mornings with songs of the wild. It caressed you in the rivers of the world. It captured and pulled you into it's overwhelming fullness. It was a place to love and become accustomed to. A place to live and a place to die. And here I am trapped and alone with nothing but steel cold walls to mock my existence, my life. No hope and no way out. My crew dead or dying and soon I will follow. Soon I'll float endlessly in a metal coffin touring the Galaxy. The creak of the steel awakens me from my stupor. I pull myself on a beam, propelling my body towards the window. I see a mass of blue hues expand the length of the window. Wreckage spans before me in an array of debris. The last of the ship that would've pioneered the way for generations to come. All lost now. I see in the far distance hunks of ship exploding and rocketing towards the unknown planet before me larger than before. Getting closer...too close. "Daddy! Daddy!" I turn quickly from the window to see my 4 year old boy. "Daddy do you want to play with me?" The tears bleed from my eyes, grouping in droplets in front of me. I swat them away in grief and anger. How could my little boy be here, in this place. I see his face but I know it isn't real. Still I drink it in and float before him. I look into his blue eyes and remember. It is unbearable. My loss is complete. I will never see my family and will never play with my boy again. I will never hold him high in the air to fly. He loved that. He used to tell me that he wanted to fly like iron Man and I would lift him in the air turning in circles until his laugher filled my ears. I looked at my son, my soul on fire. "Yea buddy, let's play." "Can I Fly daddy?" the ghost asked. My hands drift up to reach under his arms but there is no resistance and my hands simply move past his arms. I look away in dismay towards the air sealed door. The alarm lights flashing, indicating a breach to the ships infrastructure. (I will not escape this. I can either die the way the universe decides or I can die my way. I can die like a intergalactic space ranger.) I walk to the air sealed doors, glaring out the window at the gas giant before me. One small man facing a giant. I lay my finger on the emergency breach button. I look at the photo one more time showing a laughing father and son. My hands lifted high above while my sons arms stick out in front of him in the superhero fashion. He was wearing his iron man suit. "Let's fly now, son. Let's fly" I push the button.


“You think you can catch this bastard”? The older man asked.  The older man smelled of tobacco and body odor. And if you didn’t know him you would think he was an imbecile with bad hygiene. You would be half right.  “I’m sure I can Cap”. The younger man said.  The younger man was tall and seemed easy going. Easy going was a hard sell for most people in this line of work but somehow the younger man managed it. He was also what some might have called “easy on the eyes”.  “Alight Skip you better get this son of a bitch and soon. The higher ups are all over me to get this one gone and yesterday about it”.  The Captain paused for a moment looking at the younger man.  Can I trust him with something this important? He’s so young yet still one of the best despite this. Hmm. I’ll have another hysterical mother and another funeral to go to if this young buck doesn’t do this right.  To hell with it he decided.  Neither of them could afford to wait any longer and there was no one available right now that he might feel more comfortable with going.  “I’ll be here as always. I’m only a transmission away, but you already know that. So lets cut the crying short and have done with it. Get him and bring him here and we will both be financially set for awhile.”  The Captain wanted more time to make up his mind but knew there was none. This was it.  Skip winked at his Captain and headed for his ship he fondly referred to as Neil. Without turning around he said “Let’s roll Cap.”  This was Skip’s original ship. Some thought him crazy for keeping it and wondered why he didn’t just get a better one. He’d done enough missions to afford one that was for sure. But this was nonsense to Skip. Skip was practical and a penny pincher. He had always been good with money. As he walked onto the ship he remembered a night from his college days (not that long ago he thought) He was out drinking with his friends and when they ran out of money they used S-Credits and charged them to their Social Credits balance. They would rather owe more money than they borrowed than ask Skip for money. Skip was a good friend to them but he wasn’t buying anyones meal or drinks. A soft smile came to his face as he started Neil up and flew out of the space hanger.  He liked his job. Maybe he didn’t love it and so what. But it was something to do and he could have some pretty amazing adventures that were legal. He thought, not for the first time, that he might very well be in Cryo Freeze or worse if this job didn’t exist. He was a little too adventurous for his own good sometimes. He didn’t do it for the money. When Skip’s parents died they had left him with a considerable amount of money but not a soul in the universe knew this. So it wasn’t for the money that he took this job, or any job for that matter. It was the thrill or excitement or adventure or whatever you wanted to call it.  He put Neil on auto pilot and relaxed.  The last couple weeks had been hard, and sleep hadn’t come easy. He had been having the old dreams again. He had hoped that they would go away but he had been having the same dreams, albeit infrequently for almost 7 years now.  The dream came just as it always did. He was right in the middle of action. But not in a ship, no he was on the ground fighting in the trenches.  Skip also had recurring dreams of being one of The Prime. The Prime were an elite and all around group of bad asses who only went after the most dangerous of criminals.  Skip knew immediately that something was off. He was an Original. An Original is someone who’s family never had DNA alterations. So he was 100% human. No implants, no nothing. But The Prime were augmented with all the latest technology and god knew what else. He could feel The Face looking on him. And The Face would hardly look at him in his normal waking life, but in his dreams as one of The Prime of course The Face would look in on him.  The Face is an “all seeing and all knowing” machine that does many things but one of it’s essential functions is data collection. The Face is kind of like what people once called the Internet but The Face was as Big Brother as you could get. The Face knew everything about everything. This is what Perfectus wanted you to believe anyway.  The Perfectus was the lone ruler of the known universe and the only one who was immune to the The Face’s influence.  But all of this is common knowledge to… Well everyone.  Humans have advanced considerably ever since 2203 when Elix was invented. A small does of Elix can bring you back even from the brink of death and is also an anti aging agent. So humans basically found the fountain of youth for real in 2203. Although somewhat common now, in the early days only the super elite could afford, or gain access to Elix.  But all of this is common knowledge to… Well everyone.  In his dream a huge explosion knocked him back and seeing stars he fell to the ground.  “… Skip… you have to… with us… meet us at location…” He finally came to but his comms were all jacked up and he could barely hear anything.  Shit. He thought to himself. What now? And not only that what in the holy fuck can just knock around one of The Prime??  A Triker that’s what.  Trikers are a very powerful alien race from… somewhere he couldn’t remember exactly where at the moment his head was still spinning.  “Hello human”.  An interesting thing about Trikers is that they have no mouths. So the damn thing was sending messages directly TO his brain, no help from his ears thank you very much.  “I come to you in peace… For now, anyway, human. We must talk, for both our lives depend on it”.  “Yeah yeah. Like that’s going to happen. Our kind catch or kill one another as often as we can.” Skip said aloud. “So you can go suck on a Cryo Chamber floor.”  He then willed himself to wake up. He didn’t like this dream. Something about it was too real.  Slowly he came back to waking life.  “Fucking Trikers I hate all of them”. Skip said.  Skip had a habit of talking to his ship. Space travel can get pretty boring and lonely and Neil was an old friend he trusted. His ship knew more about him than anyone.  “I could have done without having that dream. This is a pretty important mission, not as bad as Cap would lead me to believe, but I need to stay focused either way… What do you think about it Neil”? He asked.  But only silence answered.  To be continued.


November 21, 2022 I’ve got a theory I don’t like. What if there’s a very real chance that the powered flyby we’re doing today could have something go wrong with it. Alarms sounding, the ship burning too slow and falling ever closer to the lunar surface, or burning too hard or too long and flinging Orion, and just as importantly me, on a course out towards deep space. What if NASA did yesterday’s training just on the off chance they needed to get me a little used to alarms going off, and following Mark’s instructions? That’s a big part of my thinking as I make my final preparations before the burn. The moon’s getting really big, really quickly, enough so that there’s actually the impression of “falling” towards it - which is super cool. The most dramatic part or the burn ends up being the view. I’m only 80 nautical miles away at the closest and it’s literally right there. After seeing the moon as a thumb sized ball your whole life when you’re this close it really looks like you could just jump down. I’m going to lose radio contact with NASA as I pass into the lunar shadow and can hear the smile in Mark’s voice when he wishes me a safe 2 hours 36 minutes of radio silence. He had a joke in mind but decided not to say it. It’s a long time to just sit and feel like you’re alone. I’d never really thought of space as “lonely” but there it is. Basically, since day 2 of this mission I’ve been further away from any other human being than anyone has ever been. On the far side of the moon, radio to Earth blocked, it is like being lost at sea. The view keeps me occupied for about a half hour. I take a look for Webb, not that I expect to see it. The James Webb space telescope is, on any pen and paper diagram of the earth and moon, just a few inches further off beyond the moon from earth. In practice that’s more thousands of miles than I can see. But still, it’s “right there”. I eat a Skor bar, using my precious - only get one set in my adult life - teeth to grind caramel and sugar into small enough chunks for me to swallow. And then I read a book. It only half helps. Starship Troopers is an interesting read though - especially when contrasted with the movie. Should people have to demonstrate a willingness to put the collective good ahead of their individual benefits in order to vote? Or are we all on this ship of state together and so it’s important for everyone to get a say in its operations? 2 hours 35 minutes later and the master alarm hasn’t gone off, and I’ve got radio back. NASA’s crunching the numbers to see how it went, but they seem happy with heir first set of readings. “We’ve got a good insertion Alex!” Mark’s got a gentle drawl, like his tongue is in no real hurry to get the words out. “You watching the video upload from radio shadow? The moon looks amazing. I half expected to spot Webb.” I leave out the intentional self-distraction. I can hear the engineers buzzing in the background of the radio. It sounds like each and every single one of them just got a promotion, a bonus, and a text from a crush telling them that they loved them. “Hell Alex, between you and me, right this second, I’m jealous as hell of you,” Mark said. Ouch, that hurt. I honestly thought I deserved this. It was all I’d ever wanted since I was a little damn kid. I’d spent my summers at high school at science camps and dreaming about space, I’d gotten a damn degree in aerospace engineering with damn honors, I’d given NASA three years of my life working for them instead of founding a tech start-up (btw. It would have been called Clarity. An online science repository where studies are organized and cross posted and tracked by topic. Say coffee. You open the entry, and the first thing is the most compelling meta analysis of coffee’s overall health effects, then sub articles about its most significant individual effects. Someone writes a new study about coffee increasing the risk of colorectal disease? It has to “beat” the other studies already up about that in order to get posted. The idea is, you want the state of the art on coffee and you’ve got the top articles right there, and you can zoom in with greater and greater detail revealing more, and more, niche studies, but all of them the leading ones. Science “news” can happen when something in that top line changes.) Anyways… I hadn’t done that. Instead, I’d tried for this. And I got a form letter saying that unfortunately, due to the “keen interest in the astronaut program, many well-qualified applicants such as myself,” didn’t get in. But Moonikin did? An empty seat on the one trip I ever wanted to take. I did, honestly, think I deserved it. Now all I can think about is how Mark must feel exactly the same way, except he got even closer. Yet here I am, and there he is. I cheated and got what he wanted. Everyone at NASA must feel like that. I’m such an asshole. I give things a few hours back at NASA to calm down. They’d be having champagne and enjoying the win. Mission control might not even be too crowded. “Mark?” “Yeah, how’s it go’in up there buddy?” He didn’t sound like he’d been drinking. Probably on shift. I couldn’t hear much in the background anymore. “Can you do me a favor? I’m going to need a lawyer for when I get back. Think you could find me someone?” There’s a long pause at that. “NASA wants to keep you being up there kind of close to the chest for the time being. This is kind of their moment in the sun, and they’d rather not have clouds right now.” “Yeah… No problem.” If NASA were asking for a favor, I definitely owed them a few billion. “Hey, look on the bright side. So far the mission’s been going off without a hitch. You’re due a mission glitch, and maybe it saves you the worry of a trial.” The funny thing about the radio, if you say something, then cringe at having said it, the person on the other line will have a hard time knowing. I very much heard Mark cringe. He must have had a couple of glasses of champagne after all. But hey, I don’t believe in bad luck or jinxes. You hear that God? I dare you to do something to me! Smite me! See? Still alive and unsmitten. Smitted. Whatever, I’m an engineer not a linguist. Still… I’d kind of deserve it. \*\*\* I’m Nathan H. Green, a science-fiction writer with a degree in aerospace engineering, and I’m going to be doing daily semi-fictional stories tracking the Artemis I mission. You can follow along through my reddit (u/authornathanhgreen). *Artemis I Has A Stowaway* is a work of semi-fiction. All incidents, events, dialogue and sentiments (which are not part of the mission’s official history), are entirely fictional. Where real historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, sentiments, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events, personality, disposition, or attitudes of the real person, nor to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. Save the above, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. © 2022 Nathan H.


It was the first Saturday of the summer, and the skies of Obsidian Springs were completely cloudless. The sun was beginning to peek its head from behind the summit of the volcano that loomed over the island city, creating rays of light and heat that slowly overcame the land and left an array of endless skyscraper shadow patterns in their wake. Small cafes and diners were packed with locals who were out welcoming in the sunny season, while the city’s infamous “Skyline Beach” was flooded with tourists taking pictures of the city from every angle imaginable. Although the view of the city was nothing short of awe-inspiring, it still placed second on the list of sights visitors looked forward to getting a glimpse of during their stay on the island. “Mommy, daddy! I wanna see him! When can we see him?” A blond haired boy shouted, taking a break from the several small sand structures he had been working on. “It’s not up to us, bud. He comes when he’s needed.” Responded the father, who was sunbathing with his face buried into his towel. “We will not be seeing him!” The boy's mother angrily interjected. “The second I hear even a peep about one of those hideous creatures lurking anywhere near this city, we’re getting our things and going straight back to the hotel.” “Awwwwwww, come on! No fair!” Whined the boy. “That’s enough!” The mother snapped back. “Relax, babe.” the father said nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal. There hasn’t been a serious incident in over a year. The guys a pro! You really want the kid to miss out on the chance of seeing a real life superhero?” “Red Orion is the coolest!” Shouted the boy, who was now sitting down on a towel, shuffling his hands around the inside of a small red and white backpack. “I said that’s enough! I refuse to put my family in danger just to see some reckless psychopath in a halloween costume jump around the city and-” “REEEEEEAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!” The boy screeched, interrupting his mother’s speech. The boy stood up, still screeching, and began running around in circles. He held two action figures in his hands and waved each of them in the air. The first figure was a large, black, demonic dinosaur, with streaks of orange and red running up and down it’s entire body. It had spikes which resembled flames running all the way down its back to the tip of its tail. The second was a smaller, much brighter humanoid figure. It was painted almost entirely red, other than two white stripes that ran along each of its arms and legs, white shoulder pads, and a white belt wrapped around its waist with a matching “O” for a belt buckle. The figure's arms were pulled up and bent to it’s shoulders in a flexing position, and the top half of its face was covered in a red helmet. The muscular man smiled brightly. The boy bent down on one knee and began pouncing the dinosaur up and down into the sand while holding the red figure behind his back. “Oh no! A giant Eruptaur is attacking the city! Everybody run!” The boy shouted frantically. He took a moment to plant his knee firmly into the sand before flopping himself down onto his stomach in a dramatic fashion. He reached his arm back behind his head as far as he could extend it, took a deep breath, and swung it forward with all of his might, furiously crashing the toy monster into the sand structures he had built. “It’s destroying the city! Somebody help us!” The boy yelled. His mother shook her head in disappointment while his father buried his face back into his towel. The boy smashed the sand structures until there was nothing left for him to smash. He bellowed out one more ear-piercing screech before taking a moment to catch his breath. He paused for a moment, and then began to wipe several imaginary tears from his eyes. “The city is ruined.. All hope is lost.. I can’t believe it.. We need-” He gasped suddenly. His cheeks began to rise as he pulled the bright red figure out from behind his back and lifted it towards the sky. “Could it be?” He whispered. “Finally.. He’s here! It’s…” *** “Shield?” “Check.” “Club?” “Check.” “Bow?” “Check.” “With the arrows this time?” “Check.” “Check.” “Wait, what?” “Double check to make sure you have the damn arrows.” “Arrows - Check.” “Binoculars.” “Check.” “No, gimme the binoculars.” “Oh. Here.” The two men sat together on a rooftop on the far west end of the city. They faced outward towards the large volcano to the east with their legs dangling over the edge of the roof. The smell of the island's coastal swamp crept up from behind them and masked the stench of the piles of trash bags that lined up along the sidewalks below them. Pedestrians looked like ants crawling up and down the streets beneath their feet. Vince Varsity, better known to the public by his heroic alias “Red Orion”, was the larger of the two men. He wore a bright red, skin tight tactical jumpsuit, modified with built in white shoulder pads, white lining along his arms and legs, and a white belt with a matching “O” for a belt buckle. Known to the world as the savior of the city, Red Orion looked like he was ripped straight out of a comic book. He held the binoculars up to his face and aimed them out towards the volcano. “Where are ya, ya little fuckers?” He mumbled. “It’s still early.” The second man said, noticeably annoyed. He was a much younger and smaller man, although he barely qualified as a “man” in Vince’s eyes. He was known to the world as Red Orion’s trusty sidekick “Blue Belt”, but to the few who knew him personally, he was simply known as Billy. Unlike Vince, Billy held no extraordinary abilities. He couldn’t outrun a bullet, or kick a building down, or turn an Eruptaur into a pile of ash with one single punch. Although he was only human, what Billy lacked in physical prowess was made up for in wit, intuition, and his inherent desire to save people in trouble. In order to keep up with the world’s mightiest man and save as many people as he could, Billy was equipped with state of the art anti-gravity technology from head to toe. Anti-gravity gloves, boots, and a gravity pack attached to his back all allowed him to manipulate himself or his surrounding environment freely. A small motherboard strapped to his wrist allowed him to control all of his gadgets with ease. He wore a royal blue jumpsuit that was littered with pockets and straps, which were all used to carry Red Orion’s lethal arsenal. He went around his body and tightened each strap one by one, securing every weapon in its place. He knew an attack could happen at any moment, and he needed to be ready to back up his superior. “Mornings are always pretty quiet. What’s the rush?” Billy asked hesitantly. “Yeah, but they’re never this quiet. We haven’t seen a single one all day. I wanna kill something!” “It’s the first day of summer, man. The city is the safest it’s been in months. Everybody’s out enjoying the weather, you should be glad!” “Fuck that! My job isn’t to care about any of those people. My job is to hunt and kill. That’s it.” “Jeez, tell me how you really feel.” Billy scoffed. Vince stood up and pulled the binoculars away from his face. He placed his hand above his eyes to block the sun from blinding his view and averted his attention downward towards the city. “You know what your problem is, Billy?” Vince asked crudely. “You care way too much about those insects down there.” Billy stared at him blankly and didn't respond. “What's the point in caring for a bug?” “They’re not bugs. They’re people.” Billy objected. “Maybe that means somethin’ to you, but it’s all the same to guys like me.” “Guys like you? What’s that supposed to mean?” “Billy, when a mosquito sneaks up behind you and buzzes around your ear, what's your first instinct?” “What does that have to do with-” “Answer the question!” Shouted Vince, who was now squating on the edge of the rooftop. “I swipe my hand at it.” “Exactly! And why do you swipe at it?” Billy paused again, unsure of how to respond. He knew whatever he said would be challenged, so he decided to say nothing. “Because it’s a nuisance, and it’s weak enough for you to know that you can kill it with ease. If you swipe at it and miss, maybe it’ll fly away. But you’re not gonna chase it down and break your back just to get another shot at swattin’ it down. You’ll forget about it in 30 seconds, and eventually somebody else will have to deal with it. And maybe that person will get lucky and land a hit. And maybe they’ll kill it! But it doesn’t make a difference whether it lives or dies. Because for every one mosquito that dies, there's a trillion more to take its place.” “What the hell are you saying? You’d kill a bunch of people because their lives don’t matter?” “Not a chance. Sure, I could kill a bunch of people if I wanted to, but I don’t. Because I don’t care enough about these weak little bugs to chase em down with a fly swatter.” “So then why do you care so much about killing Eruptaurs? They’re even bigger nuisances than people are. They cause destruction and chaos. They kill people!” “So do humans. They’re just not as fun to fight.” Vince said smugly before letting out a soft chuckle. “That’s a real shitty way of viewing life.” Said Billy sternly. “Well, that’s why I’m the hero and you’re the sidekick.” Billy scoffed and turned away from Vince. He walked over to the other side of the rooftop overlooking the smelly swampland and sat down on the edge. Heat from the sun rising behind him pressed down onto his back, which made him feel comfortable. He concentrated on his breathing as he tried to push Vince’s pessimistic comments out of his mind. His eyes wandered through the marsh aimlessly for a few moments before focusing themselves on a large patch of sawgrass. He watched the tall blades sway side to side with each gust of wind that came and went, and tried to match his breathing with them. He remained hypnotized by the marsh for several minutes before being interrupted by a faint, yet noticeable vibration from beneath him. His neck turned swiftly to face Vince, who was already looking at him. “Did you-” “Yeah, I felt it.” Vince interjected. “Did it come from inside the building? Maybe somebody just slammed a door.” “What? Were you sleeping or something? The whole city just shook!” Billy stood up and jogged over to Vince. He grabbed the binoculars from Vince’s hand and aimed them at the volcano. “Vince, you don’t think..” “There's no way. HQ would have briefed us weeks ago if there was a chance of her erupting like that.” “Maybe an earthquake then?” Billy said, as he lowered the binoculars from his face and slipped them into one of his pockets. “Seriously? An earthquake? Don’t be an idiot. When was the last time we had an earthquake here in-” Obsidian Springs interrupted Vince with another shake, this one presenting itself in a much more aggressive manner than its predecessor. The building they stood upon rumbled and shook with a might strong enough to knock Billy straight off his feet. His legs kicked out in front of him causing him to fall straight backwards. He managed to catch himself by throwing his hands down to his hips and flexing his wrists, which was the motion he used to quickly activate his gravity gloves. He propelled himself forward and quickly caught his balance. The ground continued to rumble and showed no signs of stopping. Screams began echoing throughout the city below them as the quake continued to intensify. “This building isn’t stable. If this shaking doesn’t let up it’ll come down any minute. We gotta get movin’.” Vince ordered. “But what about the people inside!?” “Insects get squashed all the time, Billy! Now let’s go!” “No!” Billy shouted. He tapped the screen on his wrist and activated his gravity boots to their inverted mode, making his feet stick to the roof like they were super glued to it. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you help these people!” “Quit fuckin’ around Billy, let’s go!” “I’m not leaving!” Vince paused for a moment and stared at Billy. His palms balled themselves into fists and his eyebrows pointed downward towards his nose. He let out a furious groan. “Fuckin dammit Billy!’ He shouted, before turning around and stepping onto the edge of the roof. “I’m gonna get everybody out. I need you to get higher up in the air and get a better view of the city. Try to see if you can figure out what’s causin’ all this shit.” Before Billy even had a chance to nod his head, Vince was gone. A red streak of energy lingered in the air for several seconds before disappearing. Vince loved to show off his flashy speed, but he normally only used it while fighting. Although he was stressed, Billy was relieved that Vince was finally using his power to help people. For once in his life, Red Orion was acting like a real hero. Without hesitating any longer, Billy activated his gravity pack and began flying upward into the sky. He aimed himself east and flew closer to the middle of the city in attempts to get the best view possible. He climbed higher and higher into the clouds, using the summit of the volcano as his waypoint. Once he reached his preferred height, he stopped climbing and pulled the binoculars out again. He pointed them towards the building he had just been standing on and was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Vince carrying out the final residents of the soon-to-be toppled apartment complex. He let out a sigh of relief and whispered “Thanks, Red Orion.” From there, he aimed his sights downward toward the middle of the city. He watched as the ground below him continued to shake. People were running and screaming in fear as they all looked for a safe place to shelter themselves. He zipped open one of his chest pockets and pulled out a small headset and placed it on his head. “Vince, can you hear me?” He spoke into the headset worrily. “I hear ya. See anything?” Vince’s muffled voice replied. “Not really. It’s chaos down there, though.” “Yeah, no shit. Notice anything weird up there? Any suspicious choppers or blimps or anything like that?” “Not that I see. It’s pretty-” Billy paused. Finally, after adjusting his focus to the sky, he noticed it. A warm, dull, purple glow emitting from the top of the volcano. “The hell?” He whispered, as he pulled his binoculars back up to his eyes. “What? What is it?” Vince’s voice shot through the headset. Billy floated and continued staring, but he didn’t respond. His eyes and mind remained focused on the volcano’s crater. “Billy! Hello? Can ya hear me? What the fuck’s goin’ on up there!?” Billy snapped out of it and dropped the binoculars down to his side. “I.. I don’t even know how to say it. The volcano, it’s.. It’s glowing.” “Glowing? What do you mean it’s glowing?” “I mean it’s glowing! The top is-” CRAAAAAAAAAAACK-ABOOOOM! A thunderous explosion roared throughout every inch of the city. Car alarms began sounding off, pedestrian screams reached an entirely new level, and every dog in the city was howling to the skies. Billy let out a stressful “Shit!” as he pulled the binoculars back up to his eyes. He pointed them to the top of the volcano again, expecting it to be spewing boulders of fire, but saw no change. The crater was still emitting a soft purple glow, but it remained peaceful. It wasn’t until he aimed his sights downward when he officially began to panic. A horrifically thick crack, starting at the very base of the volcano, had begun to race across the entire city. He watched as the ground beneath him ripped wide open, completely separating the city in half. Clouds of smoke began to leak from the depths of the earth, turning the city into a soot ridden wasteland. “Vince! Are you okay!? Where are you!?” “ECK - ECK - ECK!” Vince coughed. “Fuck this fuckin’ smoke!” “We gotta do something! What do we do, Vince!? We gotta make sure everybody down there-” “Billy, just hold on for a second! Get back on the ground.” Billy stopped and took a deep breath. He tapped his wrist and began to slowly descend from the sky into the smokey city. He placed his hand over his nose and mouth in efforts to avoid breathing in too much smoke. He was semi pleased to note the ground had finally stopped shaking when he landed, but that didn’t make his current situation any better. “Vince, where are you? I can’t see 5 feet in front of me.” “Just shut up for a second!” Vince barked. “Do you hear that?” “Yeah, every car alarm in the city is going off. What does that-” “No, not that! From below us. It sounds like..” Billy’s eyes widened as he realized what Vince was hearing. “Hissing.” He mumbled to himself. He jumped up and thrusted his arms downward, projecting himself up into the air as quickly as he could. He watched as a monstrous jaw snapped shut just an inch shy of his foot. An Eruptaur had nearly turned him into it’s lunch. “REEEEEAAAAAAAGGHHH!” The beast cried from directly below him, hopping up and down in attempts to catch his foot in it’s death grip jaw. “Eruptaurs!” Billy cried into his headset. “NO SHIT BILLY!” Screamed Vince. “I’m gonna get rid of all this fuckin smoke, take cover!” “I’m goin up!” Billy replied, as he soared back up above the smoke. Watching from above, he could finally see where Vince was. He watched in awe as the red energy streak zipped up and down the entire city within seconds. The wind Vince was creating with his speed caused the smoke to lift up and drift out towards the heavens. “That should do the trick.” Said Vince, who was now perched on top of a towering gray and white skyscraper. But with one problem solved, another presented itself in a much clearer, menacing fashion. The two men watched motionlessly, feeling as though they were frozen in time, as dozens of Eruptaurs clawed themselves out of the crack in the ground and began flooding the streets of the city.


It was 4:44 on a swampy midsummer Tuesday morning, and a cruel storm had been assaulting the grounds of the Obsidian Springs Correctional Facility throughout the entire night. The sun hadn’t even begun to show its head from behind the horizon, but Daniel Jordan was wide awake. He sat on his twin sized bet with his knees tucked up to his chest and stared out the window of his cell, watching the rain and wind ravage the courtyard that sat 50 yards in front of him. A courtyard that, for the entirety of the 9 years he had been locked away, he never had the chance to visit. “It just had to be a Tuesday, didn’t it?” Daniel mumbled to himself. Tuesday’s had always played a significant role throughout Daniel’s family history. His grandparents met while vacationing in Rome on a Tuesday. His parents got married on a Tuesday. In fact, Daniel was born on a Tuesday. And now, on this typical, ordinary, stormy Tuesday, just as he was brought into the world, Daniel was scheduled to be taken out of it. He continued to stare out the window and tried to picture himself sitting out on one of the old, rusty courtyard benches. He tried his best to block the storm from his mind and imagined he was basking in a warm, cloudless day, with a full sun beaming down on his face and a light wind blowing to keep him cool. Inmates would surround him, calling out to him and asking if he wanted to join in on their game of pick up basketball, or wall ball, or chess. But Daniel would decline each offer that came his way. All he wanted to do was sit and enjoy the sunlight. Something he hadn’t done in almost a decade - and something he would never get to do again. A crack of thunder sounded off and caused Daniel to jump out of the daydream he had found himself immersed in. He let out a depressive sigh and turned his head towards the digital clock that hung directly above the door to his cell, which now read 4:45 AM. “Any minute now.” He whispered to himself, as he stood up and made his way over to a small plastic dresser on the opposite side of the room. He opened the middle drawer of the flimsily piece of furniture, pulled out a pair of extremely tattered and broken-in dark blue cargo pants, and put them on over the thigh gripping boxers he had been wearing for the past 48 hours. Another crack of thunder erupted above him as he knelt down to cuff each of his pant legs, and he felt the frigid tile floor of his cell rumble beneath his feet. The thunder was followed by an aggressive triple pounding on his cell room door, which flung open immediately after the pounding had stopped. “Jordan, you got a visitor.” Announced one of the prison’s many overly assertive security guards as he walked into the cell. Daniel stood up tall and placed his hands in his pockets, trying his best to look as calm and collected as he possibly could. A woman followed the guard into Daniel’s cell and stopped a few feet in front of him. She was a tall, pale woman, who wore a long medical robe that covered her entire body, and a pair of bulky, ocean blue glasses were placed firmly on her nose. Her hair sat modestly on her shoulders, sporting an onyx tone that challenged the likes of the deepest crater on the farthest point of the darkest side of the moon. Daniel’s pupils dilated at the sight of her, and his knees buckled in an embarrassingly quick fashion. It was impossible for him to hide the fact that he was infatuated with her. “Remember me, Daniel?” She asked. Of course he remembered her, and he knew exactly why she was there. “Doctor Bridgewell, of course. Good morning.” “Good morning, Daniel. How are you feeling today?” “Good, I think. Tired, but good.” “Well that’s good to hear. I know how stressful it can be for somebody in your situation, but we really don’t have much time to sit and chat like we usually do. Have you thought more about what we discussed the last time I was here?” “Yes ma’am.” Daniel said nervously. The back of his throat began to feel dry and scratchy, and he could feel his cheeks turning red. “And?” She said blankly. Daniel took a moment to turn his attention back towards his cell window. He hoped to finally get a glimpse of the sun rising, but all he could see was the rain continuing to flood the courtyard. “Daniel.” The doctor snapped. “Oh, sorry. Right. I, Uh.. Well I guess I’ve decided to do it your way.” “You guess?” “Sorry - I want to do it your way. Definitely.” “And you’re sure about that? There’s no going back once the procedure is complete.” “Yeah, well, it’s better than the chair, so..” Daniel took his right hand out of his pocket and extended it out towards the doctor, who in turn grabbed it and shook it confidently. The pair stood still for a moment and exchanged smiles, which eased Daniel’s worries. “Alrighty then, put your shoes on and follow me.” Instructed Doctor Bridgewell. The two of them walked out of the cell and turned right down a long, barren hallway. Armed guards stood about 20 feet apart on each side of the hallway, and they all shot menacing glances at Daniel as he walked past them. Although he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of each guard's face as he walked by, Daniel tried his best to keep his eyes focused on the door they seemed to be walking towards. The door stood at the far end of the hallway, and a small sign reading “OPERATION LABORATORY” in big black bold letters was plastered next to it. Daniel’s breath’s grew stronger with each step he took, and his heart began to race uncontrollably. “Nervous?” Asked Doctor Bridgewell. “No way. Why would I be nervous? Like I said, it’s better than the-” “You’re breathing pretty hard. I can hear you.” “Well it’s a pretty long walk.” Joked Daniel. Doctor Bridgewell chuckled and placed her hand on his shoulder and kept it there for the remainder of their walk. Once they reached the laboratory door, the guard standing in front of it turned around and pounded on it 3 times - a sound that had grown to become all too familiar for Daniel. A dreary buzz sounded off from the inside of the door, and it opened swiftly. The laboratory was just as depressing and unsettling as Daniels cell. Dozens of people in lab coats were scattered throughout the all white four-walled room, and each of them held a clipboard and wore medical masks to hide their faces. Daniel expected to be greeted by big, beeping, blinking, buzzing machines, but there was nothing of the sort to be found. Instead, the only piece of equipment that was present in the room was the one thing he had been trying to avoid. A chair. Daniel’s muscles tensed and his eyes began to squint with anger. “Whoa, whoa, what’s the deal with-” “Relax, Daniel.” Doctor Bridgewell interrupted. “You didn’t think the procedure would take place with you standing upright, did you?” “No, but I-” “Daniel, It’s fine. I promise. Now please, have a seat.” Daniel stood motionlessly and clenched his fists together. He trusted Doctor Bridgewell, but that didn’t change the fact that sitting down in the chair would be the last thing he ever did. He stared at the chair and tried his best to hold back the tears that were trying to push themselves out from the corners of his eyes. It took a slight nudge on the back from one of the guards to finally convince him to make his way over to the chair. “So, how does this work exactly?” Daniel said as he hovered over the chair. “Well, first things first, you have to sit.” Replied Doctor Bridgewell. “Right, but I-” “Sit down now, or I’ll personally escort you to the other chair.” The back-bumping guard demanded. “Jerkoff..” Daniel said under his breath as he sat down in the chair. He glanced around the room and took notice of how many people were examining him. To his surprise, the thought of a dozen brains and eyes looming over his existence calmed him. “Well, it’s now or never, Doc. Let’s do this.” He exclaimed. “Ah, anxious now, are we?” Doctor Bridgewell shot back, with a smirk on her face. “I’ve waited forever for now. Let’s do this.” “You’re a convict, Daniel. And my patient, at that. We aren’t-” “Friends. I know. But maybe we could be? I mean, after all this.” “I don’t befriend patients.” “You don’t have to be Daniel Jordan’s last friend. You can be Jordan Daniel’s first.” Daniel smiled at Doctor Bridgewell and allowed the tears hiding in the corner of his eyes to fall. She smiled back at him and walked up to his chair. “It’s simpler than it seems..” She said, trying her best to change the emotional tone of the conversation into a professional one. “First, you take this.” “A red pill? Are you serious? Ha! You can’t be serious. My name’s Daniel, not Ne-“ “This isn’t a joke, Daniel. This is real. And there’s no blue pill in this reality. Sure, ironically enough the other chair is blue, but that-” “Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll take the pill.” Daniel said as he grabbed the red pill from her hand and swallowed it. “Now what?” “You put that on.” Doctor Bridgewell said as she pointed towards a metallic helmet sitting on the head of the chair. Multi Colored wires were wrapped around the base of the helmet, which made it look almost too silly to be real. “You can’t be serious.” Daniel said bluntly. “Daniel, if you aren’t going to take this seriously then maybe we should just-” “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll put it on.” He said as he grabbed the helmet from the chair. He placed it on his head and could hear a soft humming sound coming from the very top of it. It was cold, like it had been sitting in a freezer for hours beforehand, and a line of chills ran down his arms as it touched the tips of his ears. Doctor Bridgewell walked over to him calmly and sat next to him on the chair. “Last time I’m gonna ask you: Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes.” “You won’t remember anything. And when I say that, I mean it literally. You won’t remember anything at all.” “I know.” “You won’t be Daniel Jordan anymore.” Daniel paused for a moment and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and envisioned himself sitting on the courtyard bench again, but this time the sun wasn’t shining, and there were no other inmates to invite him into their games. Grey clouds covered the skies completely, and there was no breeze to cool him off. He sat there alone, waiting for the sun to come out. A sun that would never come. “I don’t want to be.” He whispered as he opened his eyes. Doctor Bridgewell stood up from the chair and walked to the far side of the room, where a group of masked lab workers were standing. One of the workers handed her a small, black remote control, and then walked to the other side of the room to join a different group of workers. “Alright Daniel, this is how this is going to work.” Doctor Bridgewell said firmly. “You’re going to lean back in the chair, and when I tell you to, you’re going to close your eyes. Once you’re comfortable, I’ll activate the helmet by pushing this button on this device I’m holding. From there, I’ll begin to count backwards from twenty. While I’m counting, I’ll be turning this main dial here on my device. As the seconds go on, you’ll begin to feel pressure building on the top of your head. It is extremely crucial that you do not remove the helmet once the activation process has begun. Once I reach one, I’ll push the activation button one more time. You may feel a quick shocking sensation in your arms and legs, but after that, you’ll fall asleep. And from then on… Well, you won’t wake up. But Jordan Daniel will.” “That’s it?” “For the most part. Now remember: Not only will you wake up and forget your current life, but you will know an entirely new one. This technology doesn’t just erase memories - it forges new ones. You’ll remember a life you’ve never had. A family you never had. Birthday parties you never had. You’ll go home to a house that’s been provided for you, and tomorrow morning you’ll wake up and go to a job that’s been provided for you. The path to the rest of your life has been paved. All you’ll have to do is walk it.” Daniel sat still and stared intently at Doctor Bridgewell. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, or if there was really anything that needed to be said at all. He took another deep breath and swung his legs up onto the extended end up of the chair. “Alright. Let’s do this.” He said calmly. “Is there anything you’d like to say before we begin?” Daniel paused for a moment to think. He tried to come up with something to say, but the only thing sitting at the front of his mind was a still image of the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky. He turned his head to face Doctor Bridgewell and smiled. “Thanks for getting me out of the storm.” He said. Daniel turned his head back to face forward and closed his eyes. He stuck his thumb up in Doctor Bridgewell’s direction and held it there until he heard a tiny beep, which indicated she had just pressed the activation button. The pressure around his head began to rise, as the seconds Doctor Bridgewell had been announcing continued to descend. 20 seconds turned to 15. 15 turned to 10. 10 turned to 5. No matter how painful the pressure was, the image of the sun never left Daniel’s mind. “5.. 4.. 3.. 2..” Daniel felt a lonesome teardrop run down his cheek the moment before his time expired. The corners of his lips rose subtly, and his chest felt warm. He listened intently for Doctor Bridgewell’s final proclamation. “1.” A jolt of electricity shot through Daniel's body in an instant. Although it only lasted for just one single millisecond, Daniel felt his entire life evacuate from his mind and body. All of the memories he had created, the good, the bad, and the awful, had vanished. All of the years of imprisonment completely disappeared. Every single thing that made him ‘Daniel Jordan” was completely gone. And then - Silence. And darkness. And loneliness. And then - Light. Fuzzy, blurry, unfocused light. And mumbles. “Jordan? Jordan, can you hear me?” A woman said calmly. Jordan Daniel sat up in his chair and looked around the room. It was completely white, and completely empty. A black haired woman in a long white coat sat next to him. “Come on, Jordan. Your massage is over. You fell asleep halfway through, but I didn’t want to wake you. You snore pretty loud!” The woman said as she giggled innocently. “Oh, right.” Jordan groaned, as he stood up from the chair. “I’ll show you out.” Said the woman, who was motioning him towards a green door at the far end of the room. They walked together to the door, which the woman opened. They walked through the door and entered a dimly lit lobby that seemed to be the waiting room of the massage parlor. There were dozens of windows lined up along the perimeter of the building, and the sun was shining brightly through all of them. “Ah, lucky you, you slept right through the storm. Not a cloud in the sky now!” “Oh, perfect!” Jordan said with a smile. “Well I’d better be off now. See you next time.” “Have a great day, Jordan.” The woman said as she returned a smile. Jordan waved his hand goodbye to the woman and turned around. He smiled brightly as he stared out the windows and made his way towards the door of the building. He finally reached the door, and without any hesitation, walked out into the sunlight.


It was a cold, wet and dreary morning. One of those begrudgingly spiteful days that come only so often. I could have lambasted about how it began, which rightfully should have served as a prescient warning for how the rest of the day would follow, however my mind at the time was fixated on getting across town to an appointment. I mustn’t be late to this appointment! Thames Avenue was roaring with life despite the weather. The sidewalk clattered with the footsteps of the morning crowd as they splashed through well-established puddles. Umbrellas were bobbing up and down as the crowd shuffled along, eager to find themselves at their destination. Traffic was heavy and the drivers all seemed to be frustrated. Their commute was not going so well. As I passed by Eckman’s, a street side gastropub on the corner of Thames Avenue and Fisher Street, a man inside a delivery truck began to scream profanity laced obscenities behind me. Seemingly lost to madness over his current predicament, his fists began to pound the steering wheel before he threw them into the air, palms wide open with a look of angered disbelief on his face. His muted scream could still be heard as I stood next to an outside bar. The traffic was at a standstill at this point, and it was clear by his reaction that he had somewhere to be. Pausing for a moment, I checked the clock located inside Eckman’s and it read 10:09am. This was a disaster! I was most certainly going to be late. The rain must be slowing me down, or the crowd, but I had ten more blocks to go. I mustn’t be late to this appointment! I began to pick up my pace and hurried down the sidewalk. At this point, the rain was steady but light enough to put the umbrella away. As I pushed through the crowd with my umbrella under my arm, the beleaguered commuters snarled. The sounds of horns honking behind me could be heard. Not one, not two, but many can be heard over and over in quick repetition. The people stuck in the traffic must be losing their minds in frustration! As I approached Magnolia Street, the rain suddenly began to pour. Continuing my way through the crowds I haphazardly attempt to open my umbrella. Clumsily, I dropped the umbrella and attempted to grab it in the air. My failure was a complete embarrassment as I fumbled about and kicked the umbrella farther from me. The rain drops felt heavy as they battered my clothes, soaking them to a near dripping state. Rushing to get cover, my feet pounded the puddles and concrete. I took refuge under a small cover near a jeweler’s store front. Car horns were continuing to blare one after the other, the frustration was growing and moving further up the line. I could barely see through the rain as I searched for the umbrella. I spotted it and began to frantically run toward it, hoping to pick it up and open it before I got too wet. As I neared the umbrella I tripped, falling to one knee and both hands. I begin inspecting my hand for some scraping. The car horns continued to get louder, angrier. More insistent, it seemed, for attention. I needed to hurry. What an awful day it has been however I mustn’t be late to this appointment! I grabbed the umbrella and began to stand up to shake off yet another embarrassing moment. I looked quickly around and saw an old man with a furry mustache chuckling at me, offering assistance. Flustered, I turned away. In a frantic moment I extended the umbrella, hearing the familiar ‘fwoop’ sound as it opened, and once again free of the falling rain. "I'm perfectly able to get through today with a smile on my face," I thought. The horns were now blaring in a deafening chorus! I turned to look into traffic. Suddenly I was thrown forward off of my feet with great force. As quickly as I had been thrust forward, I had just as quickly came to a complete stop. Everything had gone black. \*\*\* \*\*\* \*\*\* Pain began resonating in every inch of my skull. Then my shoulder. Then my ribs and my hip. My world was suddenly dark and agonizing. I could hear crying. Was it me? Was I crying? I was told that I had been unconscious for several minutes. When I finally came to, the sounds of screams and crying could be heard. The chorus of horns seemed to have stopped. It was raining. Splish. Splash. Pitter-Patter. Splish. Splash. Pitter-Patter. My eyes opened. The first thing I could see was my hand covered in blood. Washing away in the heavy rain, the blood disappeared down my hand. I tried to stand, and that was a mistake. I lost my balance, fell to my knees and instinctively both hands to catch myself. A sudden jolt surged up my arm and through my shoulder and into my neck. I was beside myself pain, falling again- face first into a puddle. The rear end of a box truck covered my view. I turned my head to see that I was lying next to a red car. Face dripping with street water. My arm shaking with adrenaline as I try to raise it. A warm hand grabbed onto mine firmly. “Stay still”, the voice said. "Help is on the way!” A dizzying sensation took ahold of me before blacking out again. \*\*\* \*\*\* \*\*\* When I awoke a second time, bright lights were shining into my eyes and several voices began to fade in. Still, I could not make sense of where I was or what was being said. I tried lifting my head enough to look down however I was strapped down so tight that I couldn’t move. A pair of shadowy figures loomed over me. Panic began to immediately set in. I screamed aloud and writhed to free myself. “Ma’am, you need to stay calm and be still. You were involved in an accident.” \*\*\* \*\*\* \*\*\* A nagging beeping sound and unintelligible radio chatter could be heard while lying there feeling confused. The doors clacked open and swung wide. They pulled me out of the vehicle and rushed me into the hospital. Continuing to fade in and out of reality, only the faint recollection of lights passing and muffled voices remained. A brief feeling of falling startled me back to life. The hospital staff had lifted me over and onto a different bed and began to work me over. Several minutes go by and the commotion seemed to settle. Phones rang at the nurse’s desk and an announcement came over the intercom. Suddenly the room began to grow loud again as more people are brought into the emergency room. I couldn’t make out what the staff was saying. They seemed to be in a panic. Doctors and nurses were flying around another bed still rushing into the room. To my other side, people could be heard with elevated voice levels. Trying to focus on that conversation, I could hear a woman shout, “Clear!” followed by a loud thumping noise. “Again!” the voice shouted, followed by another thumping noise. Suddenly, the voices seemed to calm, but remained in a steady discussion. I focused even more on their voices, hoping to hear what was going on. It was then that I was overcome with anger. “This was the driver of the delivery truck involved in the accident.” It was then that I was able to see enough to recognize the man. This was the livid man stuck in traffic, waving his arms about like an animal. “I heard from the EMT that he cut through traffic, drove down the wrong side of the road to turn down Magnolia Street and caused the accident. What an ass.” “I bet he never saw the heart attack coming.” My concentration broke as the incoming patient was carted next to my bed in the next stall. The curtain was drawn back and I could see hospital staff hovering over another patient, working to stabilize him. It was an older man, his face blackened with dirt, bruised and bleeding. He had a mustache; it had a salt and pepper color. Furiously the staff continued to work the man. It was then I realized that it was the man who laughed and grinned as I fell when reaching for my umbrella. “This man is in bad shape. He took most of the impact. The witnesses say he attempted to push the woman out of the way before being struck by the driver. We need to get him prepped for the O.R., I believe he has internal injuries.” His heart monitor began to loudly sing just a lonely, single note. The staff began to dance around one another in their attempt to save his life. The heart monitor continued to blare a dreadful and lonely, single note. The doctor can be heard screaming as he tried to resuscitate the man. *“Clear!”* The loud thumping noise breaking any chance of a silent moment. They began to begin chest compressions, manually pumping his heart, working to keep him alive another day. This continued for several minutes. The staff’s energy levels began to lose steam. “How could this happen?” I thought to myself. This man may have ended his life at an attempt to save mine. Yet I was so selfish, too focused on rushing along. A tear began to form in my eyes as I lay there, hearing a lonely, single note, continuing for what felt like a lifetime. It was his lifetime, I suppose, which I suddenly found myself emotionally fixated on. The end of his journey. Trying to keep me from harm. I began to quietly weep for him as I wondered if his family knew yet, or if he had someone to care for him at all. I knew nothing of him but his action that likely saved my life. Suddenly the lonely, single note ended; replaced by unsteady beeping.


#Welcome to Micro Monday Hello writers and welcome to Micro Monday! I am excited to present you all with a chance to sharpen those micro-fic skills. What is micro-fic? I’m glad you asked! Micro-fiction is generally defined as a complete story (hook, plot, conflict, and some type of resolution) written in 300 words or less. For this exercise, it needs to be at least 100 words (no poetry). However, less words doesn’t mean less of a story. The key to micro-fic is to make careful word and phrase choices so that you can paint a vivid picture for your reader. Less words means each word does more! Each week, I provide a simple constraint or jumping-off point to get your minds working. This rotates between simple prompts, sentences, images, songs, and themes. You’re free to interpret the weekly constraints how you like as long as you follow the post and subreddit rules. **Please read the entire post before submitting.**   *** #This week’s challenge: - **Prompt: It was a day that would change their lives forever.** - **Bonus Constraint: A meal is shared.** *(There may be extra points available for the use of “gobble gobble”.)* This week’s challenge is to use this simple writing prompt as **inspiration** for your story. You may interpret the prompt *any way you like*, as long as the connection is clear and you follow all sub and post rules. The sentence does not need to appear in your story (but you are more than welcome to, if you like). The bonus constraint is not required. **Don’t forget to after the submission deadline!** (The form usually opens at about 11:30am EST Monday.) You get points just for voting.   *** #How To Participate - **Submit a story between 100-300 words in the comments below.** You have until **Sunday at 11:59pm EST**. (No poetry.) - **Use to check your word count.** The title is not counted in your final word count. Stories under 100 words or over 300 will be disqualified from campfire readings and rankings. - **No pre-written content allowed.** Submitted stories should be written for this post, exclusively. Micro serials are acceptable, but please keep in mind that each installment should be able to stand on its own and be understood without leaning on previous installments. - **Come back throughout the week, read the other stories, and leave them some feedback on the thread.** You have until **2pm EST Monday** to get your feedback in. Only **actionable feedback** will be awarded points. See the ranking scale below for a breakdown on points. - **Please follow all subreddit rules and be respectful and civil in all feedback and discussion.** We welcome writers of all skill levels and experience here; we’re all here to improve and sharpen our skills. You can find a list of . - **Nominate your favorite stories at the end of the week .** You have until **2pm EST** next Monday to submit nominations. (Please note: The form does not open until Monday morning, after the story submission deadline.) - **And most of all, be creative and have fun!** If you have any questions, feel free to ask them on the *stickied comment* on this thread or through modmail.   *** #Campfire - On **Mondays at 12pm EST,** I hold a Campfire on our server. We read all the stories from the weekly thread and provide live feedback for those who are present. Come join us to read your own story and listen to the others! You can come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Everyone is welcome!   *** #How Rankings are Tallied Rankings work on a point-based system. You can complete the following things for points. - **Use of prompt/constraint:** 20 points (required) - **Use of bonus constraint:** 5 points, unless otherwise stated (not required) - ***Actionable* Feedback:** 5 points each (up to 25 pts.) - **User nominations:** 10 points each (no cap) - **Bay’s nomination:** 40 pts for first, 30 pts for second, and 20 pts for third (plus regular nominations) - **Submitting nominations:** 5 points (total) *Users who go above and beyond with feedback (more than 5 detailed crits) will be awarded Crit Credits that can be used on r/WPCritique.*   *** #Rankings This week, the rankings include just one spot, as there were only four stories. I hope to see more next week! And happy Thanksgiving to everyone who will be celebrating it this Thursday! *Gobble Gobble.* - **First:** - Submitted by u/FyeNite *Note: Crit Stars receive 1 Crit Credit on r/WPCritique, but in order to receive Crit Credits, you must have made at least 1 post on that subreddit or have linked your accounts on our Discord.* *** ###Subreddit News - Join to chat with authors, prompters, and readers! We hold several weekly Campfires and other fun events! - Join in our weekly writing chat on . We discuss a new topic every week! New here? Come introduce yourself! - Try your hand at serial writing with ! - You can also post serials to r/Shortstories, outside of Serial Sunday.