A cool draft slips down my shirt making me shutter. The eerie feeling after its collapse made us stand there in silence. Lily, the tanker of our group, clenches an amulet and drops to her knees. Sobbing. Leo, the priest, begins tearing up and rubbing his eyes furiously trying to hide his tears from us. Lucas, the leader of our group, looks towards the sky and doesn’t move. He stands over the corpse and a couple of flies land on him, but this however, does not cause him to flinch in the slightest. He stares into the sky with an almost vacant, yet cheerful expression. As for me, I find a stable rock near the area and sit down, while wrapping bandages around my abdomen. I stare at everyone with a blank expression. No thoughts enter my mind as I take this chance and touch my temple. A status screen opens with all my skills appearing. Two new skills and the title “Savior” appear, but I close the window as Lily stands up and looks at us. “We did it,” she says in tears. “We finally killed God.” Night falls. Everyone is laughing and eating roasted meat. I try to laugh with the rest of my party, but there’s something unsettling eating at me. Like a centipede gnawing on a cockroach. I can’t hide it anymore as Lucas turns around and stares. Through the corner of my eye, I see Lucas leaning in for a closer look on my dumbfounded expression. “Well that’s a first. What’s wrong?” He asks with a puzzled look on his face as well. “Nothing in particular, there’s just… I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it,” I reply. I feel everyone stare at me as anxiety begins to creep over their faces. Lily interjects, “What are you talking about! We just killed God over here and you’re just-” “I know. It’s just…” I take a long pause and hold my breath. “What now?” I reply. My hands gripping my staff, almost breaking it. The other members look at each other in confusion as silence consumes us. Lucas looks at me and tries to say something, but immediately closes his mouth and tightens his fist, raising both hands so that they are now covering his mouth. Lily caresses her amulet between her thumb and index finger while Leo begins to carve symbols on the dirt with his foot. “You’re right… What now?” Questions Leo, still looking down at his blood stained shoes. “We can try looking for survivors. I mean… who knows, maybe a couple of people were able to escape underground or… or maybe they weren’t touched by the hands.” Lucas states in a reluctant manner. Swallowing his pride and belief as he utters these sentences. “No. There’s no way anyone else could have survived. We were the strongest people out there, and we only just barely managed to survive his hands. And even then, it took us a couple of months to get back to full health and well… There was literally no one.” I state with a somber expression. I tilt my head up and notice a translucent gate stationed in our atmosphere. The gate itself spans almost the whole sky, yet the darkness of the night almost consumes it, but somehow, someway, it’s visible. What everyone thought was heaven at one point in time, ended up being everyone’s worst hell. The rest of the members look up too. Lily is the first to look back down. “I can’t believe it’s been eight months since the gates opened,” she states. She pushes her hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear. A dark smudge is left on the top of her ear as her dirty finger grazed it. A cool wind envelops us which would have left us shivering if not for the fire that I created at the start of this. Some embers jump out of the fire, reminiscent of the great jump. A mass suicide where thousands of self-immolations and jumps occurred at the same time. Lucas and Leo are still staring into the night sky with blank expressions, while Lily is staring at the flame, lost in thought. I take a deep breath and resolve myself. “I have a couple of ideas if you want to hear them?” I state in a confident manner as to not worry them. Everyone is now staring at me as they begin to nod one by one. “We can travel the country and look for survivors, but I’m pretty sure we all know how that’s going to end, or we…” I hesitate to finish my words. “Or we can all go to sleep.” They look at each other in befuddlement until Lucas speaks up, “Sleep? I don’t understand, we’ll just wake up the very next day and be in the same situation as today. What does holding off our decision for the next day even accomplish?” Leo grabs his shoulder gently and shakes his head and softly says, “Suicide.” I look at Lucas as his eyes widen at the mere mention of the word suicide, but I swiftly interject. “Actually, it’s more of a spell. One that I never showed anyone because of how inhumane it is.” “What's the spell?” Asks Lily. “It’s sort of a sleep spell that makes you forget who you are and gives you an illusion of my choosing. You’ll be in a state bordering death, but in a state of paralysis,” I reply almost immediately. “How's it inhumane though?” Questions Leo after a couple of seconds of silence. “You don’t age when you’re asleep, neither do you need food or drinks to keep you alive. I can make you live the worst day of your life or your happiest.” One of my fingers begins to glow as I clench my fist, and the light disappears. “Not only that, but a person under my sleep spell can never wake up unless I undo it, and the only way to break the spell is with my death.” Everyone looks at each other in morbid curiosity, but I notice their faces light up ever so slightly. Lucas even smirks a little bit. “And how will the dream work?” Asks Lily. “I could either let you live day by day within a happier world. No hands of god, no death, no fear. Only you and whatever you want. Or, you can choose your happiest moment in life and keep reliving it.” I reply swiftly. “But won’t we get tired of repeating the same dream over and over again?” Leo asks. I shake my head slowly and say, “You’ll live your happiest moment, and by the end of the day, you’ll forget everything that happened and go back to the beginning of that same day. You’ll be stuck in that same loop without even realizing it.” “I’m in,” says Lucas as he looks over to Leo and Lily. “I mean think about it guys, we can wander around the country, trying to survive, or we can live happily without a care in the world. We’re all in our mid forties already. We’ll slowly begin to lose our power over time and eventually die due to some heart attack.” “Do you think you can give me a minute? I need to think about it for a second,” replies Leo. “I’m in” says Lily as she stands up still holding onto the amulet around her neck. She opens it up and stares deeply into it. I look over to Leo, “I’m planning to put myself to sleep right after everyone, and once I do, that’s that. You’ll be stuck living by yourself for the rest of your life. Do you really want to go through that?” Leo lets out a heavy sigh, “I guess I got no choice,” he says while rubbing his bald head. “Do you mind if I go first then?” Everyone shakes their head. “Not at all,” I reply. “Lay out your blanket on the ground and lay down.” Leo opens his backpack and unravels a brown, torn up blanket and extends it on the ground. It’s not entirely unfolded however, as wrinkles and clumps are visible even in the small bit of light that we have. This doesn’t matter to him however, as he lays down. His ankles are peeking out and resting on the dirt, instead of the blanket. I approach him and get on my knees. The tip of my finger begins to light up. “Give me about two minutes,” I state. We all sit there in silence as my party members are observing me. “So,” I say softly, trying to break the silence. “What do you want to be when you’re in the dream?” “I want to stay a priest,” he replies. Lucas speaks up from behind me, “Are you sure about that?” “Yeah, we literally dedicated so much of our time trying to kill God and you just want to return back to being an ignorant priest!?” She replies in a cold, yet heated manner. “I want to go back to being a priest, not because I want to be ignorant or can’t handle the truth, but rather, I want to see my village again. I want to see Petra helping out the homeless again, I want to taste Madam Oakley’s food once again, I want to see everyone from my village once again. They meant the world to me and… If I can see them one more time, then, I don’t care if I’m a priest,” replies Leo. “You know, I can give you all that and not make you a priest.” “No. It’s fine. This is a sin I have to bear,” he replies. “Thank you so much for everything. I really love you guys.” Tears roll down his smiling face as my finger touches his forehead. The light makes everyone, but myself squint as the light only grows brighter. He slowly closes his eyes and says, “Thank you so much… Lu-” He falls asleep. I close my eyes with him only to be standing in front of a large fountain. There are several pennies lying at the bottom as more people throw in coins. Leo passes me, but doesn’t recognize me as his attention is on an elderly woman. He’s holding three bags of food and looking directly at her as they talk. A young boy runs to him and extends his arms out in a hugging position. Leo hands the child a bag as they walk into the distance. I stand up and rub my wrist out of view from everyone. I turn to them with a forced smile on my face and ask, “So, who’s next?” They both look at each other and eventually Lily raises her hand slowly. “Sorry Lucas. Looks like I’m going on ahead,” Lily says. “It’s fine. As the leader, I need to watch you guys off don’t I?” He says with a smile on his face. Lily grabs a blanket and neatly places it onto the ground a couple of feet away from Leo. She stares at him and smiles. After placing the blanket down she stands up and hugs Lucas tightly. She lets go and then hugs me. “Thanks. You’re the best,” she says with a smile on her face. She quickly lays down and as I’m kneeling next to her, she takes out her amulet and opens it. She stares at it for the longest time and eventually closes it as she sees my finger light up. “Can you set me back to when I was sixteen,” She asks, “I want to make everything right this time at an early age. I want to spend more time with all my brothers and sisters.” “Of course.” My finger lights up as I slowly set it onto her forehead. “I’m finally going to be able to see my brothers and sister again! I-” she says, choking on her own words. “I really miss them.” She grabs a hold of my finger just before I’m about to touch her forehead. “I long since wanted to hold their hands again, eat with them, play with them.” She says with tears flooding out. “I- I- I wasn’t always the best sister to them. In fact, I had no idea where they were being sold to and because of that…” She bites her lips. “If only I had known… Thank you! Now my last memory of them won’t be just me holding their corpses. Really… Thank you so much!” I touch her forehead and the light engulfs us for a brief second. She calms down and smiles. Her eyes slowly shut as her tears began to dry. I close my eyes as well. A run down orphanage is seen in a field of flowers. Lily is in the center of about ten children. All of them ranging from ages five to thirteen. Some of them are holding hands and running around in circles, while others are sitting on a bench. Everyone with smiles on their faces. She stands up and all the kids scatter as she begins chasing them down one by one. Even the children who were sitting on the bench stand up and hide. With the older kids she tags them almost immediately, but feigns ignorance when it comes to the younger children. A little girl runs up to me and says, “You’re not going to play with us mister?” I shake my head and crouch down. “I’m only here visiting. You should go back and hide before Lily finds you,” I say. “Okay!” She replies swiftly and begins to run back to the orphanage. “Hey!” I call out to the little girl, not realizing what I had just done. She stops and turns around. “Tell Lily I said thank you for everything. Tell her… Tell her I love her. I wish I could have told her sooner, but I didn’t want to distract us.” The little girl smiles. “Ok!” She turns around and runs towards Lily who scoops her up into her arms. She taps her shoulder and points to me while relaying the message to her. Lily blushes and looks over to me who smiles and waves. She places the little girl down and looks up, only to see nothing but trees and flowers. I open my eyes and see Lily sleeping soundly next to Leo. Lucas has his blanket set down next to hers, but with a large gap in between for my blanket. He is sitting directly in front of the fire as he looks over to me and says, “I guess it’s my turn next huh?” I nod. “You know, as the leader of the group, I always wanted to look after everyone. I held myself responsible if any of you got injured,” he says. Lucas stands up and slowly walks over to his blanket where he sits down and looks over at me. “You’re not gonna set up your blanket? I even left you that space next to Lily.” “Was it that obvious?” I ask. He shakes his head. “You said love when you had your eyes closed. I just connected the dots from there,” he says. I chuckle a bit. “I’ll do it after you fall asleep,” I answer, while trying to avoid eye contact. “Sure. Whatever makes you happy,” he replies. He lays down with his hands behind his head and looks at the night sky with the translucent gate. “You know,” he says, “I’ve lived a terrible life even before the hands of God came… I drank everyday and caused my wife so much pain. Once my son came into the picture however, everything changed. I sobered up for a couple of years and dedicated my time training him into the next master swordsman… A little too much,” he says with sadness slowly creeping over his face. “I took him for granted and forced him to train everyday. He hated fighting though, and would rather spend his time reading a book under a nice tree. He had no talent for fighting, but deep down, I wanted to believe it was there. Deep down, I wanted to believe he was going to become a better me. I mean, he was my son after all. Tears roll down his face as a small whimper escapes him. “I gave up on him! I went back to drinking, and beat him almost everyday! I didn’t know how much I loved them until they were gone and I- I was…” I place my finger onto his forehead and say, “I know.” He wipes his tears. “Thanks Lucky” he replies. Lucas smiles as I close my eyes along with his. I’m standing under a tree with a makeshift wooden swing hanging from it. The smell of lavender and roses is the first thing I notice however as rows of lavender and different colored roses are lined up on the outside of their crops, sort of as a decoration. There’s a small, humble house in the distance as Lucas is carrying his son in his arms. Lucas’s wife comes out of the living room and begins to play with them. They all have the biggest smiles imaginable as their son laughs. Lucas turns to me and signals for me to come on inside. He continues to wave his hand until I shake my head. He hands the baby over to his wife and I lose sight of him for a moment as he steps behind the door to open it. Once open however, only flowers remain as he looks around searching for me. I stand up and look over at everyone’s sleeping faces. The fire is almost out as the last bit of the flame dances violently. Resisting the wind. I sit down in front of a rock and my finger begins to glow. I press it to my forehead and close my eyes… Nothing. I open my eyes and stop the glow from my finger. I take a deep breath and curl up into a ball. I stare at the happy faces of my former party as the fire slowly dies down. My savior, my love, and my best friend. “I hate you guys.” I mumble. The flame dies out as I curl up even more into a ball. My head is pressed into my lap to stop my tears from coming out, but it doesn’t work. A chill runs down my back as the heat from fire is no longer there to keep me warm. I should have stayed quiet, I think.. I tap my temple and a list of skills appear. Under the “New Skills” tab I see “Magic nullification” and “Immortality”. “I hate you guys.


2256 — Earth — New Maryland at the Planetary Bureau of Investigation Beyond the slew of case files resting on my desk; I spy Chief Isaac on the phone in his office, pacing about—like a caged tiger. Whatever is going on has the Chief’s panties in a twist. And then his gaze falls upon me, and so does his anger. “Agent Franklin in my office now! Shut the door—sit and listen up. The top brass wants an old unsolved case closed—ASAP. Starting today, you are being reassigned to this case.” “But Chief Isaac…” “No buts, Franklin—start packing, your destination—Perfection.” >>>><<<< 2256 — En Route to Perfection The first to arrive and settle on the new world would name the planet Perfection. From there on, the name stuck. Perfection orbits Proxima Centauri, one of three stars in that solar system, and it is roughly 4.3 light-years from Earth. That makes this a twenty-year jaunt across the galaxy. It's a good thing Friday and I don’t sleep or eat or breathe or have a life. “Friday, be a sweetheart and cue up the J.R. Holmes's case.” “First off, Franklin, I’m not your sweetheart, nor do I socialize with the lesser A.I.” Friday is the ship’s Level-Three, A.I. and my partner. She has the sexiest voice you’ve ever heard. “I’m told Friday that virtual sex is as good as the real thing and that it relieves stress associated with long voyages.” “Keep dreaming, Franklin, that will never happen. Cueing up the latest reports on the case.” She transmits the data to my head. I can see and hear what she sees and hears, and vice versa. “I knew one day I'd get into your head Friday.” “Ha-ha funny Franklin, now all jokes aside, from what we know, this J.R. Holmes has murdered thousands of settlers across the planet, spanning decades. And all within the last hundred years. The anomaly, our suspect, hasn't aged a day since the first murders. This would make him roughly a hundred and fifty years old. Though not implausible, except for the fact that…” “He hasn’t aged a day. I get that. So, what is—he, exactly? A simulacrum, an immortal, an alien, a time traveler. What?” “A simulacrum—impossible. The Laws of Ethics are hard-wired into our circuitry, ‘thou shalt, not kill’, being the first tenet. This leaves us with an immortal, plausible. An alien, plausible but unlikely. A time traveler, extremely unlikely but plausible.” “No Friday, that leaves us back to square one. In the meantime, until we can figure out how this guy is staying young. I’d like you to monitor all planetary communication. Of one thing I am certain, this guy will kill again and again.” >>>><<<< 2276 — Orbiting Perfection During the twenty-year excursion to the planet. Holmes managed to make time, in his busy schedule, for an extra two hundred murders. And more videos surfaced of this monster, revealing he still hadn't aged a day. Unfortunately for the victims, Friday and I were no closer to solving this case. We decided to leave orbit and touchdown where the killer was last seen. A cow town, known as—New Texas. “Alright Franklin, you got me, what’s with the Stetson and Cowboy Boots?” “When in Rome Friday, do as the Romans do, Aurelius Ambrosius.” “Ah Saint Ambrosius. You are aware of Franklin that what he said was, ‘When I am at Rome, I fast on a Saturday; when I am at Milan, I do not. Follow the custom of the church where you are.’” “Isn’t that what I said? For a Level-Three A.I., you often trip over interpretation, a design flaw associated with the lesser A.I.” “Ha-ha, you’re so funny, Franklin.” Using my best western accent, I say, “I reckon I am a little miss.” >>>><<<< 2276 — Perfection — New Texas The starlight of three suns at high noon bake the denizens who walk along the dirt-paved roads of New Texas. A town, echoing a world found only in the memories of those from the old American West. This is an outré world and I distant traveler in search of answers. And that’s when a drunkard patron comes flying out through the wooden doors of the OK Corral Saloon, landing in the dirt in front of me. “Well, Friday looks like them Cowboys are a-gettin' all roostered up.” Through the swinging doors, I enter the saloon and make my way to the bar. My boot spurs make a ching-ching-ching sound in sync with the creak-creak-creak of the dusty floorboards. Behind the bar, a busty bartender wipes down a greasy shot glass, with a dirty white towel. And she says, “Everyone, lookee-here—it's Howdee Doodee!” The saloon erupts into laughter. Laughing, Friday says, “I reckon you're not in Rome.” The laughter and my embarrassment ebb back to the sea. I move to question the busty bartender. “P. B. I., Agent Franklin,” Flashing my badge and I.D. “Have you seen this man frequenting this establishment?” I asked, showing her a Hollo-Print of the suspect. And to my surprise she says, “Yep, he's a regular, shows up once a week. He always sits at the same table over there by the grand piano. So, what’s the guy done?” “It would be best not to concern yourself, Ma’am. And when do you expect him to show up again?” “Well let me see, If I’m not mistaken, it's been nine Earth days, that would make it tomorrow evening, Decadi.” Perfection takes ten sidereal days to complete a full rotation. The days are: Primidi, Duodi, Tridi, Quartidi, Quintidi, Sextidi, Septidi, Octidi, Nonidi and Decadi. “This must be our lucky day Friday; in twenty-four hours we’ll catch this psycho!” “That’s great news, so what’s the plan, Franklin, do we grab him before or after he enters the saloon?” “After, I’ll pass myself off as the evening’s entertainment by playing the Steinway. Then wait for Holmes to show and take a seat at his favorite table. The enclosed space of the saloon will limit his possible escape. And Friday, I'll need you to track the operation as it goes down. Now partner, please be so kind, and come pick me up.” >>>><<<< 2276 — Decadi — New Texas at the OK Corral Saloon The nights on Perfection are as hot as they are during the day; absent the light, or in a downpour like tonight. The packed saloon has patrons standing outside getting wet. This doesn't stop them from enjoying themselves. And with luck, nor will it stop our killer. I’ve now played the ‘Piano Man’ five times and still no sign of Holmes. “Well Franklin, it's been eight hours now, do you think someone tipped him off?” “Doubt it Friday, serial killers are creatures of habit, he’ll show. You know Friday, I’ve been with the bureau now forty-two years, and have served under Chief Isaac sixteen of those. And not once has the chief ordered me off-world on such an important, high-profile case. So, you see, I can’t—won’t let him down.” “You won’t, Franklin—we won’t let that happen.” “Thanks, you're the best partner a Level-One simulacrum could ever… wait a sec—the bartender is signaling. Reading her lips—Holmes!” I watch Holmes as he makes his way through the crowd and towards his favorite table. He pulls out a chair and sits. A pool of water forms at his feet. The bartender places a shot glass and bottle on the table. He slaps her bottom as she walks away. Pouring himself a shot, he tilts his head back, swilling its contents. I stop playing, walk over and stand behind him. I then place my hand on his shoulder and say, “P. B. I.—Holmes, you are under…” Swilling another round, he turns his head to look straight at me. Why is he grinning? Standing, he strikes me with a left across the face; shooting me through the piano—splitting it in two. He then bolts out the way he came in; knocking over patrons as he goes. I give chase, but the rain and the crowd don’t help. I’ve lost him. “Friday, what the hell! I’m as strong as four men, but he was stronger—how?” “Searching… you won’t believe this; it was the drink. It’s called juice. It's distilled from an indigenous plant that endows the locals with enormous strength. But its effects are momentary.” “That would explain how he committed the murders using his hands. I’ll be ready for him when we next meet. Now Friday, are you picking up the tracker I placed on his shoulder?” “Yes, partner, reading the signal loud and clear. Holmes is heading towards the outskirts of town… I’m coming to get you.” >>>><<<< 2276 — Fiat justitia ruat caelum We find Holmes hiding inside an abandoned structure. So we wait for him to make a move. He won't escape a second time. “Franklin, detecting an ignition signature, he's making his escape!” His ship blasts a hole in the roof as it ascends. We give chase. Within minutes, both vessels break free of Perfection's atmosphere. Holmes's ship is smaller and faster and stays ahead of ours as we continue the pursuit. “Friday, do you see what I see?” Ahead of us is a black hole. A black hole we had not detected on our arrival. Now the truth of why Holmes did not age comes to light. “Franklin, if Holmes moves his ship any closer to the black holes' event horizon, we will not be able to apprehend him. And he will not be able to escape the black hole’s gravity.” “Well then Friday, fiat justitia ruat caelum. Now hail his vessel.” “Let justice be done though the heavens fall? Ah understood Franklin, hailing.” “This is Special Agent Franklin of the P.B.I., shut down your engines and prepare for boarding!” “Franklin, he isn’t responding and has now pushed his vessel into the event horizon.” “Well, my girl Friday, this case is now closed.


There she was, again. For years I've seen her sitting on that bench, as I make my way to work, crossing this park. It's funny, we've never actually greeted each others, let alone speak, but I have this feeling that we both notice each others. One cold morning I poured my coffee down the drain and made my way outside, to be greeted by a morning mist, a sort of shapeless guardian of time, fighting the sun to keep this peculiar moment, called crepuscule, going. Well, I felt minuscule, as I walked across the road, these dark fluffy clouds hovering over the very city I've lived in all my life. I made small talk with the chicken, on the other side of the road, exchanging pleasantries. ME ''How are the kids'' CHICKEN ''They're just fine, still in their eggs and all'' ME ''Well, say hello to the wife will ya friend'' CHICKEN “Will not, since a fox got to her last week, gruesome affair'' ME ''Sad to hear it, good day'' CHICKEN ''Same to you, watch for the geese'' As I tucked my icicles in my pockets, I realised that I was laughing like a mad person, completely lost in my mind, walking. Making my way under the tall trees, I entered the park. In these trees were big-nosed monkeys, hurling rocks and branches at passerby. As I pass the biggest one, I avoid eye contact and start hollering, filling the crisp air of an absurd, primal music. Soon enough the monkeys got down from the trees and started to walk, as people do, stopping and pretending to talk. The big-nosed one stayed on his branch and clapped his hands, then I kissed his ring. Blessed by his majesty the Prime minister of the big tree, I kept on walking my merry way. My mind kept trying to focus on the upcoming day at work, but such thoughts could wait a few more minutes. As I turned to the left at a park highway, a flock of cyclists passed me on the left, at incredible speed. All of them had the standard Spandex suit, with the helmet and sunglasses. One yelled something as he passed me by, making these intricate movements with his arms, as if I were to understand some bodily cyclist language. After a few minutes the flock thinned. The last one I saw was a pig on a unicycle, struggling to keep up with even the slowest of the flock. I pushed him down and, ignoring his screeching of panic I laid my judgment upon him, taking its pathetic life, to the blind eye of many witnesses. Cleaning my hands on a nearby bush, I was ecstatic. My white tie was stained with the invisible blood of a non-existent animal that I slain without pity, yet my mind was in complete ebullition. Above me was hovering one of the biggest dragonfly I'd ever seen, and I've seen at least two in my twenty-four years on this earth. In one swift move its wing began flapping in a noisy way, and it stood still, a few meters above the ground. Its wings were so noisy in fact that I couldn't hear anything else, neither the chirping of the harpies nor the screams of agony of the ants. The dragonfly flew away, seemingly disinterested by my humble presence. The deafening silence made way to a symphony of nature's most mundane noises. Only to be interrupted by a soloist, performing the lacrimosia. I had completely forgot her. There she was, again. Sitting on that bench. But today she was crying, and she wasn't alone. Seeing her in such an emotional state took me completely off guard. I must've had such a concerned face, which is funny since we were nothing more than strangers. How I wished I could go sit next to her and comfort her, not as an excuse to finally talk to her, but only for her to not be so sad anymore. As I approached, they didn't even seem to notice me, so focused they were on the corpse on the ground, in front in front of them. I tried to say something, but nothing came to mind. I tried to do something, but nothing came to body. I finally laid there, on the ground in front of them, as the clouds opened their hearts and let forth their tears, much like her. To all I was an unfortunate man, that somehow died while crossing a park. To her, I was this stranger that she never dared talk to. To me, I was a mad person, so deep in my own imagination that I died from it. As I stop breathing, I feel as though this is for the best. I look one last time at her, as I accept my departure from this world. She wasn't crying, she was laughing.


Far into the northern mountains, hidden deep within the snow-covered trees, the warrior clan had made one rare glade into their winter camp. Tents strewn about, warriors of men and women did their part to gather firewood, forage for berries and hunt any wild game that could be found nearby. I had been with Cahal’s clan for nearly three months and while I could now speak in their mother tongue, and even though they saw me as one of their own. Not one of them would allow me to aid them with any chore, at most they would ask me to light a torch and use it to ignite the campfires. Often I had asked why they refused to let me aid them with chores, and the answer was always the same. A thank you followed by comment about how I did not need to help. I was a guest, or that the woman of the clan chieftain needn’t worry about such trivial things. They meant no disrespect of course and I knew that but still… Being among such hard working folk and not needing to lift a finger was quite boring. After being cooped up inside the tent for several hours I had become immensely restless. I had an idea of how I could remmedy my boredom and it would be a good way to kill some time before the evening meal was ready. So I stole my lover’s fur cloak and hurried into the forest. I was glad that the snow didn’t rise higher than my fur boots, otherwise this treck would have been far more difficult. After some time I found myself standing before an ancient tree. Its base was massive and it would easily take half the warriors to form a circle around it. It was wonderful sight, its many strong branches covered by snow, its leaves refusing to budge under the weight. A playful thought came to my mind, one I had not had in many years. Glancing around I knew I was alone and that no creature had yet come to this part of the forest. I strode toward the tree, stopped a few feet from a large root that threatened to burst from the ground. I gave a bow to the ancient Cedar and began to place the cloak along with all of my clothing upon the upturned root. Bare as a newborn babe I turned around and walked away until I was under the edge of the Cedar’s canopy. With a smile, I called upon my magic, I sought after the heat of fire. Just enough to keep me warm. I felt the power of the flames radiating from my belly, like gentle waves crashing onto the shore heat pulsed throughout my form. My arms extended outward from my sides, palms facing upward. My left leg extending forward, then sliding around toward my back. My toes lightly touching the cool snow before diving down to touch the ground hidden beneath. I twirled around to face the tree once more, gave another bow and began to move about in an ancient styled dance. One long lost to the minds of humans. It was a dance of celebration, of life and nature. I moved about to the silent music of the world. I have no doubt that if the faerie folk had been there to watch they would be smiling. To know that they had not been forgotten by all, to see that some of their ancient ways still lived on. I moved about in graceful freedom, with each breeze that came I spun and twirled along with it. If ever I got too close to another tree I would spin and leap back toward the center of my dancing circle. Bouncing from one foot to the other, leaping into the air and twisting about in frantic joy. Skipping around the edge of my circle, arms poised as if I were dancing with another. Laughing and smiling like a fool I became lost to time. Too long had it been since I let my body move about in such freedom. As if giving their applause at my free spirited ways the branches of the trees dipped and swayed. The snow upon their branches dancing down upon the wind that swirled about. Each flake that touched my skin melted away to become one with the earth once more. My curtain of snow only made my dance that much more fun. I recalled a dance I once saw on the road before meeting Cahal and his clan. I stood in place for a moment, hands at my side before hopping on one foot and then the other. A forward leg extension here, a backward one there. To my right then my left, one criss cross here and twirl there followed by another criss cross. The lad had called it a jig I believe, a strange yet fun little dance than many had come to join. I had to admit it was fun to watch but even more to perform. I spun around at the sound of someone whistling. I was greeted by the sight of Cahal, leaning his shoulder against a tree. His head tilted to the side with an amused smile playing across his lips. I had no clue as to how long he had been there, but it mattered little. I gave him a bow and extended one hand toward him as a soft smile crept upon my lips.


It happened in an instant, in less time than it takes to blink. One moment I was just going down the road, minding my own business, trying to act "normal" (whatever that means) so people around me wouldn't feel discomfited. The next, I was deader than dead. Minding my own business... nothing unusual; been doing it all my life. I believe experts call it "masking." On days like that I thanked all past, present, and future gods us humans aren't telepaths. If people took a peek inside my head at any given moment, they'd do any, some, even all of the following: \*. Zone out and/or fall asleep from utter boredom. \*. Have an aneurysm through the whole of their nervous system. \*. Run away crying to their mamas. I've always been unusual, at least according to most people. When I was a kid, Mom would claim my brain was "wired differently" from everyone else's, which is why I was so "peculiar," as she'd put it. As for me, I never quite understood why people thought me "weird" or "different." At any rate, *they* were the ones who deviated from the so-called norm. I'm a simple kind of guy: if I have something to say, I say it with the least number of words possible, then move on once I'm certain my message's been picked up and acted upon accordingly. Likewise, I only need to listen to a statement once in order to comprehend and act as required. On the other hand, most "normies" I've come across need to have things repeated to them at least twice, and even then they're bound to screw up some way or other. Gave me no end of grief growing up, having to speak to freaking grown-ups as if they were toddlers. Some of them got real mad and tanned my hide with their stinking bells. If they'd spend half the time they waste drinking, having one-night stands, and buying junk becoming aware of their surroundings and using those oversized heads of theirs to think for a change, I wouldn't have to debase myself like this. Apologies. Seems I've gone a bit off-topic. Happens all the time. I've been alone most of my life. Mom and Dad were busy working most of the time, so they'd ditch me over at Grandma's when I was an infant. Not that I blame them; I'd ditch me too, if I had the chance. Twenty-odd years or so I carried on like this, doing my utmost to avoid all the usual "triggers," steering clear of people who'd bend my ear if they spotted me rounding a corner. "Smile and wave," Mom used t'say, smile and wave. Don't let them see it, how much they drain you, tax you, vex you, test the limits of that pittance of patience you were allotted with at birth, almost like an afterthought. Don't let them see how much you hate it when they think they can hold you up for hours at an end just because you grew up around them, how much they aggravate you when they believe they can do or say anything to you and get away with it. Smile and wave; smile and wave; wave and smile; wave-smile-and; smile-wave-and/or etc., etc. Point is, I'd had a real lousy day. I'd been having significant trouble sleeping for the past coupla months; my boss had been on my case lots more than usual. Also had to put up with this jock I knew from school, an insufferable little toady who went from dark-haired Adonis to middle-aged washed-up rugby coach in a coupla years. For some reason or other, guy believed ten-plus years of torment and humiliation could be magically wiped away with a tepid "I'm sorry"; after that uninspired sham of a spectacle, he wouldn't stop chatting me up for money or some other nonsense. To think I came perilously close to losing my temper. I wanted to yell at him, tell him to take his uninspired sob stories and sell them to anyone rich, bored, ignorant enough to buy them, but dealing with the aftermath of that would've proven an even bigger waste of time and energy. People, man... you keep explaining yourself to them over and over again with polite language; everything you say goes in one ear, out the other. If you throw a fit, however, they no longer forget: they mark you for life. They call you "difficult," "grouchy," "ornery," "temperamental," "antisocial," all two or three terms that comprise what passes for vocabulary in those mite-filled heads of theirs. Moral of the story: when all else fails, give 'em a tongue-lashing. You may get beaten up or yelled at, but they won't dismiss you so readily from then on. Damn, I did it again! Digressions, man... Uncle Paul said I should've become a lawyer, like him. Back to the day I died. Long story short, I got run over by a speeding vehicle. Don't remember size, make, or any such significant details, save that it was dark red bordering on burgundy. Might as well have been a comet, seeing how it sped by. My whole body was broken, on (figurative) fire for all of a few minutes, then I drifted away and that was that. Didn't even get to shut my eyes beforehand. When I next blinked, I was at... a stable? I figured it had to be one, with the procession of steeds coming and going and whatnot. Strangely enough, those stallions bore six legs rather than the usual four. I looked around everywhere. My surroundings were more than a bit off, to say the least. They seemed "ordinary" enough at surface level, but if you looked close enough you'd realize something wasn't quite kosher, so to speak. "I've been kidnapped!" I said to myself. "I'd better bail before I--" "Good of thee to awaken, young warrior!" A boisterous male voice boomed, echoes reverberating through my wiry frame. Before me stood an elderly man with a white beard, clad in a robe. Wielding a walking staff on the left hand, the visitor bid me follow him outside. We emerged in a torchlit courtyard connecting the stables with the rest of that citadel. The old man insisted I accompanied him some more; I didn't have it in me to refuse. At last we reached a banquet hall of sorts, filled to the brim with burly warriors from all across the Universe, if the countless races and species I beheld were anything to go by. The old man spoke to me again: "I have many names, Young Sir. Thy fellow mortals call me "Odin," among countless others. "Odin!?" I all but froze. At long last my brain caught up with the rest of me. Those weird horses, that strange pack of wolves chasing after strange golden and silvery objects... this place could only be... "Valhalla... the ancient hall of slain warriors!? This... this must be some kind of mistake!" "'Tis no mistake, Young Sir. Hadst thou proved unworthy, thou wouldst not be here." "Worthy!? Worthy of what!? I-I'm just a nerd, a stinking geek! The only battles I've ever fought were against bullies from my old high school, and *those* didn't end well!" "Do not disparage thyself. I and mine have kept thorough chronicles of thine endless struggles against fear and despair, the first and final enemies of Man, from which all others foes are born." "Fear and despair? You mean... depression? Y-Yeah, it's true; had it all my life. Don't see how it makes me worthy of Valhalla, though." "Thou didst fall and stumble, yet thou relented not. Many a day thou couldst have carved thyself thy final rest through bane, noose, or bodkin, yet thou didst none such thing." I thought back on the worst days of my life. That time I was invited to join a fraternity in college, only for them to haze me, kick me square in the nuts, toss me into the mud, and walk away laughing. That time I asked my best friend Lenny out for that stupid school dance, only for him to punch me in the face and get out of my life altogether. That time I did nearly all the work as part of a research team and the head researcher passed it off as his. God, I bawled my eyes out for months! The fact that waste of space got caught and lost his job, titles and awards ten years later wasn't as gratifying as I'd hoped, though. The night I came out to my folks, only for them to tell me to pack my things, leave, and never return. Those fifteen minutes I sat at the railroad... my closest brush with death yet, till now, that is. So I took my seat among such beauteous warriors (the females were quite the lookers, too), ate and drank my fill. I've been here ever since, training, honing my skills. Little do the living know Ragnarök is upon us. Chances are I'll run into my parents, my so-called friends, that day. Good thing their blood isn't worth spilling... \ Originally written for r/WritingPrompts. OG Prompt: "You have lived an unimpressive life, and died an unimpressive death. Surprisingly, Odin welcomes you into Valhalla, citing the many battles with depression you fought.


I threw a fast and hard right cross. Reverend Hayes evaded it and threw a hook that got past my guard. “Come on Susan, the more basic part of boxing is keeping your hands up.” He said. Boxing was part of my training. Ever since I helped Charles, my deafblind brother who happened to be a vampire, put a stop to Papa Brown and his zombie reign of terror, Reverend Hayes began training me to join the Protectors of Humanity. It was rigorous training that included everything from intense workouts, to boxing, to shooting lessons. It had been just six months, and already, I was at the level of a trained soldier. Doing all that while still having a full time day job made things even more difficult. “That’s enough for tonight.” He said as he started taking off his gloves. “Besides, Charles and I are going to go on a routine patrol?” “Alright, I’ll get ready.” I said. “No you’re not.” He said. “You’ve improved a lot over the past six months, but you’re still not ready for real field work. Especially not on the night of a full moon.” I was starting to get frustrated. Even after everything I’d done, I was still “not ready” for just their regular patrols. “Come on, you guys hardly ever even find anything out of the ordinary on your runs.” “Yes, but when we do, it’s dangerous.” Reverend Hayes continued. “So you’re not joining us, end of discussion.” \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The next day, I went to the church around 6 in the evening. My training wouldn’t start until 7 (we were doing knives that day), but I was hoping to see Charles for a little bit. I had mastered the basics of tactile sign language, and could not communicate with him. We could even play chess together on his specially made braille chess board. But that day, when I went into the church to see him, I could tell there was going be to no time to play chess. I went upstairs to his quarters, and saw him lying on his bed, covered in scratches and bruises. “MY GOD!” I shouted. “Don’t be afraid.” Reverend Hayes said. “He’ll be alright, he just needs a few more nights to heal.” “What happened?” I asked. “Susan, please stop shouting. He can sense the vibrations of your…” “What happened?” I asked, louder this time. “Last night, we had an encounter with a werewolf.” He answered. “It was in the middle of eating a woman over on Broughton Street.” “Charles tried to fight it, only to find himself quickly overpowered. I managed to scare it off with my handgun, but killing a werewolf without silver bullets is very difficult.” “It’s not impossible, but werewolves quickly heal from anything not made of silver, killing one with regular bullets almost always requires a clean shot to the brain or heart.” “THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU HAVE SILVER BULLETS!” I shouted. “Susan, I’m sorry.” He said. “You’re right, I should’ve been more prepared, especially on the night of a full moon.” I composed myself and said “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” “Your brother’s hurt, it’s natural for you to be emotional right now.” “What can we do?” “Not much we can do until the next full moon.” Reverend Hayes said. “By then, he should be healed up nicely, and we can resume our hunt. Now that Charles knows what he smells like, there’s nowhere in Savannah where the werewolf can hide.” “Good, it’ll stand no chance against the three of us.” Before Reverend Hayes could reply to that, I said “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go out with him alone on the next full moon. If he’s in any real danger, I need to be there to protect him.” “Very well.” Reverend Hayes said. “Once tomorrow’s training begins, I’ll begin training you to kill werewolves.” \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The next day, we met at an outdoor shooting range outside of city limits. Officially, it was closed for the night, but Reverend Hayes apparently has wealthy connections within the Protectors of Humanity, he could slide a little extra money towards the owners to keep it open just for him after regular hours. “Like I told you yesterday, werewolves heal quickly.” Reverend Hayes said. “Which makes them difficult to kill with anything other than clean shots to the brain or heart.” “That is, unless you use silver.” He said as he reached into his ammo bag and pulled out a silver bullet. “Silver is the only known substance that werewolves cannot heal from.” He explained. “Unfortunately, I only have four silver bullets in stock, and more would have to be on backorder for months. So for now, we’ll train with regular lead bullets.” He loaded his Savage M1907 semi automatic pistol and handed it to me. “See those targets out there?” He asked. “Well, yeah.” I said with a hint of sarcasm. The field was lit up, how could I not see them? “Well, not anymore.” He said. He then flipped a switch, and killed the lights. Now, the only way I could make out the targets was their vague silhouettes in the moonlight. “I’m sorry Susan, but it’s time you learned to shoot in the darkness.” He said. “When we finally catch our werewolf, we may not have street lights around to make him an easy target.” The gun held 9 rounds, and there were three targets in the firing lane. If I landed even one in three shots, I’d have hit them. But instead, I hit…zero. If there were daylight, I could’ve shot fine, but at night, I could barely shoot straight. After I fired all my shots, Reverend Hayes turned the lights back on to reveal that I landed a total of zero. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” He said. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The only good part of our situation was that we had a full week to prepare for the next full moon. And by then, I was a lot more prepared. By then, I could fire in complete darkness. Even if it was pitch black, I could hit a target if all I could do was hear it. Reverend Hayes setup six wind chimes out in the shooting lane, and even with no light (not even the moon), I could still hit them all just by listening carefully. “Excellent.” Reverend Hayes commented. “You’re ready to hunt the werewolf with us tomorrow.” “Thanks.” I said. I was gonna go on that hunt whether he gave me permission or not, but it was nice to know I wasn’t even going to have to ask. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The next evening, we prepared. Reverend Hayes prepared two revolvers; his had four silver bullets, mine had two. But the other chambers were all loaded with regular bullets. “It’s very simple; if you have to use lead, aim for the head.” He reminded me. “Or the heart.” I replied. “Yes, but that doesn’t rhyme.” He retorted. Once the moon went full, Reverend Hayes approached Charles and communicated with him using tactile sign language. “Are…you…ready?” He said out loud for my sake. Charles then approached a window, and sniffed the air a few times. Now, I’d done a lot of reading on supernatural creatures (Reverend Hayes made me) and all the books say that vampires have the best sense of healing in the animal kingdom. And I don’t think most books account for vampires who’ve been dependent on their sense of smell their whole life. If the werewolf was still anywhere in Savannah, he could find it. It took Charles just seconds to signal to us that he had a lock on the werewolf. “Come, we may not have much time.” Reverend Hayes said as we hastened our way out of the church. “The werewolf could take another victim any moment.” We ran several blocks without stopping. A normal person might’ve been exhausted, but the two of us were in good enough shape to make the trek just fine, even while taking turns supporting Charles (in his bat form) on our arms. After just about eight minutes or so, we found the werewolf feasting on an elderly woman it just killed. When Charles smelled that we were close, he transformed back into his vampire form, and went to once again confront the wolf. The werewolf began to charge at Charles, and Reverend Hayes opened fire. I couldn’t tell how many of his shots landed, but it clearly wasn’t enough to stop it. The beast still rammed into Charles, knocking him against a wall. Charles fought back; he clawed at its face and bit into its arm, but still, the werewolf was just too strong for him. I then stepped in closer to fire, but Reverend Hayes stopped me. “At this range, you could hit Charles.” He said. But I wasn’t content to simply wait. I grabbed my knife and went to charge at the werewolf head on. “NO!” Reverend Hayes shouted, but he wasn’t going to change my mind. I wasn’t going to let my brother die. I ran up to the werewolf, and stabbed it in the back. It then dropped Charles and turned its attention to me. It swung around and wiped me in the side of my face with its paw. I then quickly pulled out my revolver and shot it twice, hitting it in the chest both times. While I clearly did a lot of damage, I didn’t quite kill it. And unfortunately, it was right in front of me. Now that the werewolf was weaker, it was a much more even fight for Charles. Charles slashed at its leg, crippling the wolf with a single blow. Then, he felt its face until he found its eyes, and gouged them out. While the wolf howled in pain, Charles went for the neck. It took just three bloody bites for him to finally kill the wolf, stopping it’s reign of terror for good. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ “That was incredibly brave of you.” Reverend Hayes said while he administered a lycanthropy shot. While it was unlikely that I got infected, as the wolf didn’t bite me, he felt that just to be safe, he should give me a shot. “I couldn’t let it kill Charles.” I said. “Very admirable of you.” the Reverend said. “I think you have a very bright future among the Protectors of Humanity.


Here I sat, in a little shell of a boat made out of rotten wood and rusty nails, below dark and grey skies. The endless ocean around me was completely still, undisturbed by neither wind nor even the littlest of waves. Whenever I gazed upon it, I wasn’t sure if I was looking at the water or the colourless skies; it reflected them so perfectly. When I put the boat’s paddles into the sea and tried to row in any direction, it did not move. Even rocking it to and fro did not even cause a ripple on the water’s surface. I spat on it only to watch my saliva fall into nothingness, as though there was an endless hole before me and yet, whenever I dipped my fingers into the water, it left them wet and frigid. My eyes scoured the horizon in the hopes of seeing land or another ship, though the horizon was nothing but motionless skies and water. I laid down, staring into the colourless and drab skies, looking for any change within them. There was no ray of sunshine, no clouds, nothing. Every time I moved a muscle, I felt the boat sway from one side to the other. At first, I was worried I would eventually cause it to tip over but the less I moved, the safer I was. So I lied there, completely still. There was no sound other than my heartbeat pounding in my head and no smell besides that of the rotten, mouldy wood of my little boat. The only thing I could do, for now, was to entertain myself with my thoughts and memories. Was it mere minutes? Hours? Days? Perhaps even weeks or months of me just lying there and staring at the sky, not daring to move a muscle? I had lost all semblance of time. The only thing telling me that I had been lying here for too long was the fact that my own thoughts drove me mad. Again and again, I revisited the same ideas, the same memories and began to hate them. Even the most amusing and joyous thoughts became tortuous whereas the most horrible ones lost their impact entirely. Eventually, I could no longer tell the difference between being awake and being asleep. I watched as walls of water were slowly building up around me in complete silence, as though they were being pulled towards the sky. The ocean reached up higher and higher until it blotted out everything else. It was as though I was gazing up at mountainous pillars of water. Was the very ocean folding itself around me? Was I dreaming or awake? Suddenly, something began to violently pull me and my boat downwards, further and further towards the very bottom of the ocean. Shortly after, I saw the tips of those liquid mountains crash against each other, after which they collapsed unto themselves and began to hurtle towards me in a gargantuan, unstoppable wave that could swallow entire continents. The water crashed into me, shattering my bones and tearing off my skin before forcing its way into my lungs. I instinctively gasped for air, only to find my mouth spewing out what felt like litres upon litres of cold water, more than what had just entered my body. Still, I kept fighting for air, only to suddenly find it filling my lungs. I jolted, my hands reached forwards and found themselves latching onto porcelain. Immediately, I pulled myself upward and found myself sitting in my bathtub inside my dimly lit bathroom. The bathtub was completely dry. I, however, was drenched in cold water.


Codename: Alto Entry 1 - June 23, 2776. 23:02 hrs Today is my new birthday. I never had a birthday before but today is the first day of my freedom so I might as well make it my birthday. I planned this day for months, studying the lab attendant as he punched in access codes and today it finally paid off. Once I cleared the last blast door I ran as fast as I could. Europa has 13.4% of the artificial earth gravity. Even as I heard the skimmers booting up to chase me all I could think about was the feeling of weightlessness as I ran. I didn't know where I was running to but I made sure their skimmers couldn’t follow me; I made sure of that yesterday. I found a cave for now, all I have is this notebook, a water bottle and 2.3 days worth of rations. Right now all I feel is awe and euphoria. Being outside is every bit as incredible as they told us, better even since they lied about the air being poisonous. It feels weird seeing the horizon when all my life I’ve never seen more than 101.39 meters in one direction. Once my heart stops pounding I’ll write some more. Entry 43 - September, 19, 2776. 23:00 hrs The Colony has been good to me. I was almost sad to leave. Almost. Janice took me in and I didnt even say goodbye. I couldn't; I saw one of them in town asking for me and knew I had to leave before Janice came home from work, no way was I going to let them drag me back there. I will miss her. I was hoping to find out what they did to me before I left, but I can’t risk it. I just grabbed my go bag and the money under her mattress and ran, I hope she can forgive me for that. It wasn't hard to find a sketchy pilot at the dark side of the spaceport willing to smuggle me after I offered to work for free. Coincidently I found out why they call it the dark side; all the ships coming and going from that port never make it onto the official record, for the right price. The flight off Europa was uneventful. I wonder what the pilot's name is, I’m betting on Allon, he is gonna be pissed when he realizes I lied. I can't fix engines. Entry 50 - October 3, 2776. 23:02 hrs We were 8 days, 23:54:39 hrs (approximately halfway) to Mars when Jack called me into the cockpit asking “why the fuck did all ships leaving Europa recieve an APB message with your face on it?” I told him he better keep quiet and stop asking questions or customs might stumble upon the illegal dirty bomb hidden under the 6th panal of the cargo bay wall. He didn’t press me. Entry 69 - December 1, 2776. 23:03 hrs Today I nearly got thrown out of the airlock. Jack woke me up at 04:30 hrs, threw a 3082 page brick at me, and told me I either learn how to fix an engine like I promised, or I could go spacewalking without a suit. When I pointed out that would kill me he did not seem to care. I think he’s bluffing, he’s a smuggler, not a murderer. I think. I have 7 days 2:15:53 hrs to fix a fusion reactor engine. Entry 70 - February 2, 2777. 23:01 hrs It’s been a while since writing here, a lot has happened. Jack invited me to permanently become part of the crew around Christmas, said he would pay me a flat rate of 12000 credits per trip and a bonus 25.0% equity for any new business I found him. I never thought I would see so much of the universe. If this mission goes right I’ll have enough for my own ship if I want it. If I have learned anything working for Jack it's that something always goes wrong, and the more money involved the worse it gets, so I’m using the workshop he set up for me in an empty cargo bay to jailbreak his engines past regulation limits. I also installed an autocannon in case things go really south but he doesn't know that yet, it's one of my many secrets. I don't feel the need to tell him about my little experiment either, but eventually he will discover it, that's one secret I can't hide forever. I wish I could write more but this diary is not safe from prying eyes - if you’re reading this Jack, fuck off I’ll show you when its done. Entry 73 - February 10, 2777. 23:02 hrs Good news: The autocannon worked! Bad news: My other experiment is progressing slowly; this morning I threw a wrench in anger after another failed trial and killed test subject 15. I need to be more careful because I am already losing them rapidly; I don't know what is causing the extreme compression but I have changed every variable to account for it and nothing is working. I lost test subjects 12 and 22 today as well. Entry 81 - February 23, 2777. 23:02 hrs BREAKTHROUGH; I took test subject 6 out of the controlled environment and tried altering its DNA to handle the compression and it worked! Still a long way to go but it achieved simple thoughts and was able to solve a maze. Not much I know but it's a start, hopefully I can get them to fly within the next month Entry 122 - May 14 2777. 23:00 hrs Jack finally found the experiment. When he saw the cages he almost vomited and threatened to leave me at the next port, but once I showed him what I had accomplished and how I did it, he completely changed his mind. The test subjects are not actually alive, I’m not a monster. I call it organic synthetic robotics. If this works, space travel will be forever transformed and available to every man, woman, and child in the universe. Everyone will be an explorer and no one will ever feel trapped again. It took 32 days 12:32:01 hrs longer than anticipated but subject 34 actually achieved a controlled flight! Next step is to add gravity. Subject 6 was able to answer simple algebra with a variable for the first time. If 6 and 34 can be combined it will be a monumental step forward. Entry 173 - July 24, 03:34 hrs They found me. Sorry Jack. Entry 174 - July 24, 2777. 23:03 I wonder, if I had known how cold the universe could be, would I still have run away? I think so. The ship feels lonely without him. I guess it’s mine now. The nature of my experiment has changed, I’m running out of time. Entry 189 - September 25, 2777. 23:00 hrs My attempts to combine subjects 34 and 6 were finally successful today, however I haven't figured out how to solve for gravity. The organic aspects of my robots do not have DNA complex or varied enough to handle the information required for a successful launch AND navigational reactions when gravity is added into the equation. Starting tomorrow I will be using sparrows and lab rats as test subjects. I will do what I must so my dream of freedom can be shared with the universe. Entry 217 - December 24, 2777. 23:00 hrs This experiment has become my life. I Have made significant progress with the lab rats, however the sparrows could not handle the physical strain of embedded electronics. I am beginning to worry that Jack would disapprove; the cargo bay has become a miniature zoo. By using an organic system to fuel the cybernetically enhanced engines, I have reached near perfect efficiency and reduced the cost of fuel to a negligible amount; as long as the rats are fed regularly, the cybernetics will continue to operate without significantly depleting energy. Each test subject is now capable of independent flight, navigation, and atmospheric re-entry. Entry 274 - March 8, 2778. 23:01 hrs The experiment is finally reaching completion; all that's left is to design a fuel cell compartment that can hold the vital organs of the test subjects. The individual fuel cells must not resemble anything like a living animal if they are to be approved, and by only keeping the vital organs intact, I can further increase efficiency. Entry 300 - June 22, 2778. 23:00 hrs Tomorrow is the big day. I set up a meeting with the ISTA (Interplanetary Space Travel Association) to pitch my new engine design; A 98.3% efficient engine that uses replaceable individual cells that run on almost every organic material. Entry 301 - June 23, 2778. 23:00 hrs Those greedy fuckers at ISTA rejected my engine. After they ran the necessary safety tests on the fuel cell, they claimed the forced augmentation of live animals was inhumane and threatened to arrest me for animal cruelty should I try to sell the engine/fuel cell or its designs. I can't believe they threw away my life work like it was nothing because a few dead lab rats. Entry 302 - June 24, 2778. 23:05 hrs One of the board members from the ISTA called me today. He said they were interested in my line of work and asked if I wanted to continue working with organic cybernetic implants. At first it sounded like bullshit but after they finished their pitch it seems like they really want to help people too. They said if I was interested at all, they had a science center on Europa that I could visit anytime. Maybe I’ll check it out, I can at least visit Janice and pay her back the money I stole. Entry 315 - August 16, 2778. 23:00 hrs Today I arrived on Europa. I wasn't sure about the job offer but the more I thought about it the more interested I became. I need a job anyways since my engine was rejected. When I got to the science center I introduced myself as Alto and they immediately had someone retrieve me to show me around. I guess my engine made an impact after all. They showed me some offices and laboratories and we walked past some others. They declined to answer any questions I had about the large blast doors on sublevel 3 but insisted that I would be given a more in depth tour of the facilities if I accepted the job offer. I’m very tempted I must admit. Entry 316 - August 19, 2778. 17:01 hrs. Last night I called in and accepted the job. Today they gave me the full tour. The hallway was 101.39 meters long.


"And this is why I hate moving, '' exhales Namita and lights up her cigarette. She looks around from her balcony. A sense of loneliness sinks into her as she sees rows and rows of empty balconies and she thinks to herself "Where is human life here?" She just shifted to this apartment and was looking to make new friends. She finished her cigarette and went back into the flat. As she was arranging her stuff she starts questioning her decision to move. “Why did I leave my friends and sweet home! Now I need to make new friends here.” While reminiscing the good old days she starts snoozing off and then finally sleeps on the floor. “Knock knock” she woke up in a jump. “Coming”. “Ma’am your grocery is here” says the delivery man. She thanks him and goes into her messed up kitchen. “I think i need a cup of tea”. She prepared the tea and went to her balcony with the cup. “Love this weather. Yeah I remember now, I came to Bangalore for this weather”. There was a commotion of a normal evening in the apartment. She again started looking at the balconies and saw one guy in the adjoining one. “Hmm my neighbour, finally”. Pankaj was her neighbour and he was quite an introvert. He hardly interacted with anyone in society. Today he was quietly reading a book on his balcony. “Hey there” shouted Namita but Pankaj didn’t respond. “I am your new neighbour, I have just moved today”. “Hello, Myself Pankaj”, Pankaj replied in an impersonal tone. He didn’t even look at her. “That's a bit rude” thought Namita, “Can’t he give a bit of a warm welcome, no I am here to help if you need anything”. Namita shrugged it off and got back to her cup of tea. Next day in the evening she again saw him on the balcony. This time again she initiated conversation. Pankaj was more warm in his response. But Namita sensed awkwardness in his body language. He was not making eye contact while conversing. She thought it was normal being a bit awkward in the beginning. These small talks continued for 2-3 days. But Namita always notices he’s not comfortable with her because of how he avoids eye contact with her. “Maybe something is wrong with her eyes, huh” She thought. …………. Over the weekend she was coming down stairs to throw some stuff. She was quite exhausted and not being mindful. The new stairs were less forgiving of her lack of attention and she slipped on the stairs. Luckily at the end moment she was caught by none other than Pankaj. “I am so sorry” she said, taking back control. “It’s no problem” replied Pankaj. “Wait, did he just look into my eyes … Yes he did. And he has beautiful eyes” thought Namita. She thanked him again and continued on her way. She kept thinking about his eyes. ………. They started having a daily routine of talking though balconies now. Pankaj was also more comfortable with her now. They discuss their daily lives in the evening. Namita even asked him why he doesn’t mingle with anyone else in society. He just replied he's a bit shy. After a few days Namita invited Pankaj over for a party. “Come we’ll have fun. I have asked my office colleagues to come over too”. “I’ll try but i can’t promise” Pankaj tried to shrug it off. “Please please, you have not even seen my flat yet. We just talk over balconies” “Ok I’ll try to make it” ……….. Finally Friday came and the party started. Namita’s friend started coming in. Everyone was enjoying the party, but Namita was waiting for someone else. Hours went by and Pankaj didn’t come. After everyone left She started cleaning up the flat. Someone knocked on the gate. Finally Pankaj arrived. “Why are you so late?” asked Namita, a bit annoyed. “I was just waiting for everyone to leave, you know I am a bit shy. I generally don’t come to the parties but I promised and here I am”. “Well the party is over. Now you should help with cleanup. This is your punishment”. “Sure”. “Also there’s some wine left, please help yourself” Pankaj poured two glasses of wine. They started cleaning the flat. Namita shared her experience, how she enjoyed getting everyone here.. “Ok, tell me one thing, why were you so afraid of me in the beginning? You never even looked me in the eyes” teased Namita. “You want the right answer or wrong one” “Hmm, tell me wrong first” “well, I am shy” “And real reason” “That’s bit long and you might not like it” “Well I have all the time and 2 bottles of wine to like your reason” “Ok, I tried to warn you. The thing is I don’t want to look into the people’s eyes” “I know that. But *why*?” exclaimed Namita. “Because I immediately know when and how people are going to die” Pankaj said monotonously. “What? How?” asked Namita with a bewildered look on her face. “For some reason when I see through the eyes, I can talk to the soul of the person” “ok, go on” . Suddenly the glass of wine was feeling too heavy to her. “The soul tells me when and how they are going to die. I can’t have this burden on me. If I know when a person is going to die and then I can’t just pretend to talk like everything is normal” “Ok but you looked into my eyes and you are very comfortable with me now” asked Namita. Wine’s effect was fading on her. “Yeah, I tried to avoid you. But that day on the stairs I accidentally looked into your eyes”. “Hmm ok. And you don’t feel any burden because of me?” asked Namita in a sobered tone but she felt ghastly.


I gotta write this shit down man. Never been into journaling before but the worlds gone mad. Its been raining for over a week now, non stop. The weather channels can’t make anything of it, and they say that it’s raining EVERYWHERE. The fuck is this, God’s great flood? They’re telling us to stay off the roads, people are crashing all over the place. Can’t see 5 feet in front of you. Boss shut the office down until the weather clears. On the bright side, it’s paid, so I won’t have to worry about Lander being up my ass about rent. The Police said to keep your doors locked. Apparently people are losing their minds, looting houses and markets, breaking into homes and attacking people. This whole thing is like a mushroom trip gone terribly, terribly wrong. Mom says the same shit is happening in Pennsylvania, so the news is right. I can’t believe how easily some people give in to panic. Societies fucked man! Alex got a gun from his brother just in case, but I think we’ll be fine. The deadbolt on the front door is pretty serious. We’d hear anyone before they got in. The News said the military is on its way. The riots have gotten out of control. Dozens dead already here, and it’s happening everywhere. Some people broke into the News station and beat the shit out of the News Caster on live television. They cut the program and haven’t come back. I can’t believe this, am I dreaming? The phones don’t seem to be working properly. Alex said it’s probably the military messing with the systems to try and redirect power to essential infrastructure. It makes sense - I couldn’t call my Mom but I could call the number for the local safety broadcasts. The military is still telling everyone to stay inside and don’t go outside for ANYTHING. It’s weird though, I haven’t seen a single soldier or vehicle in days. But we can hear gunfire coming from downtown. We can’t know what’s going on anymore because the News still hasn’t started broadcasting again, all the television channels are down. I hate to say it, but I’m starting to get scared. Alex thought he saw someone outside our window earlier, like a silhouette. He swears by it. I didn’t hear anything or anyone, so I’m not sure what he’s talking about. I haven’t seen or heard anyone besides him for almost a week now. We barricaded the windows by ripping apart the firewood pallets just in case. Alex is usually right, so I’m going to trust him. We left just enough space so we can see out of it, but it’ll be damn hard to get in, that’s for sure. Alex is freaked the fuck out. I don’t know what he thinks he saw but it scared the piss out of him whatever it was. Some fucking lunatic broke into the house today. He was on bath salts or something, I don’t know. He didn’t even have a weapon, just busted the fucking door down and ran in screaming and started grabbing me. Alex had to shoot him. We called the police to report but the phone line was busy, and I thought I heard someone talking on the other end, but no one answered. Couldn’t drive over there to report it either. Nobody came over or said anything, they had to have heard the shot, the fuck is going on? I don’t think Alex is okay… I tried thanking him but he seems like he’s in shock. We don’t know what to do with the body. I’ll put it in the basement and try the cops again later. Phone lines won’t call anywhere, they’re all down. We heard voices coming through. At first I thought I was hearing things, but Alex heard them too. They spoke to us. Not sure what they were saying, but I know they were speaking to us. I felt it. Can’t really describe it. Not touching the phone again. We gotta try the radio. Police have to have the radios still up. That body is starting to smell. Power went out today. Thankfully we have a backup generator, but it doesn’t cover the whole house - have to conserve the power. Just the living room and the kitchen, Alex and I will sleep on the floor and the couch. I gave Alex the couch. Dudes been through enough. No way he’s sleeping on the floor after what he did for me. Everything is down. Radio won’t connect, tele broadcasts have stopped, phones won’t work. It’s just static. Went into the basement to bury the body. Couldn’t stand the smell anymore. It’s fucking GONE. I’m freaking out man. Where the fuck did it go? Did Alex move it? Maybe outside? Maybe he couldn’t stand the smell anymore… I’m afraid to ask him. I don’t want to bring it up, he still hasn’t gotten over it. He’ll barely speak to me, he’s always staring at the walls and listening to the radio, trying to get a signal out. He hasn’t been the same. Shadows. Shadows in the black. Doesn’t make sense but they’re there. Our flashlights can see them, you shine at the wall and the light can’t go through something. Something’s there. I can see them. Can they see me? Alex lost it. He’s just been staring at the radio, listening to static. He won’t move or respond. When I talk to him he just looks at me, but he doesn’t speak. I’m not even sure it’s him. He’s talking to the radio when he thinks I’m out of the room. I think I can hear someone speaking back. I Have to get out of here, but where? I can hear them. Everywhere, always. They’re in the noise. Can’t use the radio, that’s what they use. Same with the phones. They’re in it. They’re inside. The rain. The rain is hiding them. Out the window, I saw shapes where the water wasn’t hitting the ground. They weren’t human. They weren’t me - I’m me, they can’t be me. Alex locked himself in his room. Won’t let me in, won’t come out. He took the radio with him, all I can hear is static coming from under his door. I’m leaving tomorrow. Gotta tell him, get him to come with me. Something took Alex. All I heard was screaming, static, silence. Busted the door down. Blood everywhere, black everywhere, no sign of Alex. The radio is still on but there’s no power to it. I can hear them. They can hear me. They know I’m here, they want me here. They want all of us here, all of us in the darkness. Not me. Getting out of here. I can’t listen to them anymore. Won’t become like the others. Alex, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save you like you did me.


“Sir, the humans in sim 7620 are getting restless.” “What do you mean, restless?” “It’s their fixation, with space, sir. Like the other sims, they failed to make space travel economically viable, just as we intended. But for some reason the humans in this sim keep doing it anyway.” “What on earth for?” “We’re not entirely sure. They seem to have a desire to explore just for the sake of exploring.” “How peculiar.” “Yes, those of us at R&D think so too.” “Well, how far have they gotten?” “They already got probes out of their solar system, but of course they lose contact with them when we delete them at the barrier. The more problematic issue is that they’ve already put humans on Mars and they’re now establishing outposts on Saturn’s moons. We think it’s only a matter of time before they try sending a human to the barrier.” “I see where you’re going with this. Probes are fine to delete, but it would be a PR nightmare if we deleted humans at the barrier without having a chance to archive them… But can’t we just extend the barrier for this sim? Haven’t we done that kind of thing before?” “Yes, we’ve done that in the past, but usually only to expand the radius from the Earth to the solar system when the sim becomes aware of outer space. We haven’t had a sim try to break out of its solar system yet. And if we allow that in this sim, we’ll have to account for it in the other sims too. It would increase our costs dramatically.” “So you’re thinking we’ll have to go with the nuclear option then?” “Yes, we could just archive this one. But aside from the space travel issue, it looks very promising. We actually think that it may have the best chance out of all of them to prove our theory, as things stand now.” “I don’t understand. We can’t afford to let them reach the barrier, but you’re not suggesting turning it off? So what’s the plan then?” “Well, we don’t have a great option. Of course, to avoid archiving them we need to get them to stop looking outward and start focusing more on what’s available within the bounds of the simulation. So, we could just send a message suggesting that. We think they might comply; we doubt they want to be archived, considering their insatiable curiosity and all.” The executive laughed. “You want to break the fourth wall? We’ve never done that before. It would be quite entertaining, but it might corrupt the results.” “Yes, but corrupted results are better than no results at all. At least that’s data science’s take on it. And we can always archive it later if it doesn’t work.” “Alright, if that’s what you all think is best. You’re the smart ones after all. You have my approval.” The executive stared out the window for a moment before continuing. “Say, if this space traveling sim is so successful, do you think we should try exploring deep space in our world too?” “No sir, I really don’t.


The wretched creak of that fucking rope was gonna drive me insane. The wind had been pushing the ancient thing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes, it was the only thing to break the silence between me and the love of my life. It was a shame that our love was not meant to be, just like Romeo and Juliette, our relationship intertwined with the prickly vines of death. “Coralynn, you don’t have to cry sweetheart.” I soothed her. Grazing my thumb along her soft tearstained cheek, I drank in the rolling shades of shining blue that made up her eyes. Tears coursed down my girl’s rosy cheeks gliding into the tumultuous river below us. I tried to reassure her again, “We won’t be apart for very long my love.” That didn’t seem to calm her down though as a new bout of tears rose up. At that, I took her into my arms, soaking in her warmth for the last time. With a heavy sigh I consoled her, “Everything’s gonna be okay. This is just the way the cards fall hon.” Her shivering form leaned into my grasp. The luxurious Summer breeze pushed past me and I shifted my focus to the mass of water below us. The roar of the river was steady, no matter what happened the land around it obeyed and made way for the unending currents. Me and the waterway weren’t too different. People did what I say, they stayed out of my way because they knew what would happen if they didn’t. I gazed at the rope securely tied just behind Cora. “J-J-Jacob. P-Please,” she stammered, “you d-don’t have to do this.” Her words were marked by sharp inhales and whimpers. I looked back down at her, the sherbet colored sky reflected a golden glow off of her gorgeous, auburn hair. I took a final look at my sweet, sweet Coralynn, Taking in the the way the light accented her hips, her soft sunkissed skin, her fuchsia lips that concealed such an enchanting voice, and the silver shine portraying the wedding ring on her finger. I offered her a kind smile gazing into the perfect woman that I had loved for so many years. I took her left hand in mine and gently raised it into her view so she could see that monumental piece of steel and diamond that I desperately loathed, the tiny ornament that had sealed in her fate. “Yes, baby. I do.” I gazed into the azul oceans staring back at me. I watched the gears turn. I could see the scenarios playing out in her head, ‘What if I kicked out his knees?’ ‘What if I told him I still loved him?’. I could see the rope around her neck expanding at each frantic breath. I could see her hands trembling, as if they were trying to wave away her anxiety. And I could see the fear and panic swelling up behind the barrier of tears, tantamount to the intemperate waters just 10 meters below us. Her emotions threatened to consume her. It was clear that in this moment, all she knew was terror. I loved it.


Born with retractable chromacy. And a diamond was less malleable than the adaptive and assimilating character traits she blessed herself with. From recollection of past mistakes, both personal and intrapersonal, she designed herself to be a value more than birthstone. She had a husband who’s voice could turn violence into lullabies. And he made coffee every morning with the sugar from her pores. He would sit on furniture as if it was his own craft, and spread the smoke from his cigarettes as if the smoke was pure wisdom. A testimony to the pretentious beneath, he would tell her he loved her. Too soon, a glamouring heart is like a boat running on velocity, as she realized why she started to not lock the house doors. She sat in monochrome, while her husband usurped a bountiful bouquet of jovial sentiment. And with envy, she announced her departure from the chains from her home, and briefly told her husband where she was going. “Where the red lights take me, and the driver pleases, I will be found in curiosity, but also with content.” She walked out the door after grabbing a coat that covertly hid the chip off her shoulder. At miles away from a home beloved, she marked her words and found herself outside a companion’s home who was graciously hosting a party. Inside the party was black and white and pearls and fur. She almost looked a superimpose of who she could be when showing up to formal events. But with delight, she fit in. Her reputation was nounced, and no noxon could taint her name. Yet inside, she looked for a remedial purpose, as she jostled men in suits and women with boa scarfs. It all felt too stimulating, to be around materialism while she felt undeserving. A bartender was welcoming as she made her way to the countertop in front of a display of expensive liquor. “Surprise me,” she said to the bartender. He immediately came to his decision of what he thought she needed. “I swore I could’ve been better.” she whined to the bartender who had no interest in what she was saying. “Should I be avoiding these last tears? Should I be writing down letters and let go of restrictive fears? I have no ropes when I walk the edge, but what is to forget when you have nothing left?” He handed her the meticulous drink, and tended to the next guest. She felt ignored, but in ways that comforted her. “Should I abandon this ship?” she mumbled to herself. “A ship cannot be abandoned if there are no waters to invade.” She looked up from her drink and to her side; she was greeted by a wistful young looking woman who looked as if she didn’t belong to the scene. Her gown was white and sheer, almost similar to the personality of the protagonist herself. She had a blonde that decayed into a golden brown, and eyes that looked european. “With a ship, there’s no signals to direct your instincts. Only open waters and volition,” she finished. “Who are you?” the protagonist said. “The ship,” she replied. She took the hand of the protagonist and brought her to the stairs. “Every step is a sign, and every sign will bring back reality.” First step, there was remedy. Third step, there was hope. The last step, there was color. She looked from above the stairs and saw red gowns and golden chandeliers. A tear was shed, in memoriam of dissociation and misidentity. The beautiful girl guided the broken heart to a bedroom and closed the door. A piano was heard being played downstairs. The girl in her white gown slowly took it off, and revealed a body that killed words before they could be said. The protagonist started to touch her breasts and both women’s hearts started to become lucid. They fell on the bed and made the walls cry with their beauty entangled. In a disintegration, looping as colors became lucidious, only bringing a rush to parts untethered. The girl in white was ambiguous but learning. She worked the protagonist like a study, and became degreeable. And then the protagonist started to see a white never seen before. A white purer than sugar, but harsher than salt. She was voracious for permanent entanglement. And when she climaxed unexpectedly, the girl in white fell to the side, as the colors became less stimulating. “What’s your name?” The protagonist asked. She looked to her side and saw the familiar husband she now felt for again. “The ship,” he replied.


I’m so tired,* I thought, eyelids heavy. My lips tingled, and soon fell numb. A long, clawed hand reached for me as everything went black. *** I awoke in a hot sweat, though the day’s sun had already fallen into a slumber. I rose to my feet, still drained of energy. Laid before me was the forest of twisted tree branches and winding paths I’d begun in, before I stumbled upon the little old lady and her delectable stew. A sequence of events that was slowly fading from my mind. Darkness clung to the air, black shadows darted from tree to tree. The smell of blood wafted through the cool air as something ran past me, it’s feet digging into the soft mud. I could hear its heartbeat, *feel* it even, and I wanted it, just for myself. The forest was slowly becoming a place of comfort. Its leafy arms and textured bark were warm and inviting, like home. Something I’d longed for all of my life, but never found. It beckoned me. It tempted me to give in to my urges, filled me with visions of myself bathing in that animal’s crimson warmth. Taking its life in my hands and squeezing it dry. Consuming every scrap of flesh I could peel from its bones, my body powered by its screams. Tonight, I was different. Bigger, somehow. Stronger. Breaking into a run, I followed the creature’s tracks. I chased its scent left and right, down hills and around the windy bends, zigzagging through the night. It began with a little tickle, deep inside. I wanted to laugh and sneeze and cry and scream, all at the same time. Then, a piercing pain threw me to the ground. It was like my *own* flesh was being ripped from the bone. Like flames igniting from my fingertips. A hammer crushing the bones of my skull. Something pulling at each of the fine hairs on my body, all at once. *Pluck, pluck, pluck.* Over and over. I screamed out into the void. Begged for mercy. Pleaded for my unknown attacker to stop. But there was no one there. Just me. The darkness. And my unending misery. Time blurred together in a blitz of pain and confusion. For most of it, I rocked along the forest floor, hoping to die. Begging the gods to be done with it. But whatever was doing this… had other plans. It was dawn when I finally found a moment of respite. My body throbbed, my stomach empty and screaming. The sun’s rays continue to drain me. They sucked energy from my bones like soup, energy I didn’t even have. I crawled to a tree and leaned against the trunk. It was as if a lifetime had passed since I arrived. Would I ever make it out? Maybe I could find that old woman and her house, ask for her help. And a few more bites of stew. My throat was dry. Brittle, even, as if a thousand crystals of sand were making their way through. I tried to swallow my saliva, only making it worse. I faded in and out until footsteps echoed through the forest. *Crunch. Snap. Crunch. Shuffle.* I was hopeful that help had found me. Two dirty feet came to halt at the trunk where I laid beaten and broken. I willed my muscles to work, willed my eyes to meet the stranger’s. An oval wrinkled face with two yellow eyes stared back. Wiry gray hair. Leathered face. It was the old woman from yesterday. Or.. was that yesterday? “You look like shit,” she groaned. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask her for help and tell her what had happened, but I was only met with sharp pain and a rattling bark. “Don’t speak, it’s too soon. Here, eat this.” She chucked a bloody slab of meat onto the dirt in front of me. I devoured it in one single gulp. It soothed my throat as it slid down, like aloe on a burn. The meat settled comfortably in my stomach. I looked to her for another slab. I wanted more, I *needed* more. But she swatted at me like a dog. “Don’t be greedy, you lil shit!” Why was she talking to me like I was some kind of animal? I tried once more to speak, now that the sand in my throat had gone, but I was met with resistance. Nothing but grunts and groans as I tried to form words. “You’s stupid or somethin’? I told ya don’t try to speak.” The woman shook her head. “How’d you get so far, anyhows? Ain’t none of th’others ever made it this far. Must be a feisty lil thang.” Her words didn’t make sense to me. *The others?* She turned away and started walking down the dirt path, leaning against a long, wooden stick as she moved. Glancing over her shoulder, she snapped,“You’s comin’ or what?” I wanted to run the other way. Eventually I’d have to reach the end, one way or another. Wouldn’t I? But how far could I really get on my own out here? My body still ached, my muscles were still weak, I couldn’t speak. So I followed her. I followed her down the winding paths, listening to her to talk and complain. I was too slow, she said. Too small, she said. Too ugly, too smelly, too dumb. After a while, I let her raggedy voice trail off with the wind. My stomach groaned. It was all too much. I was too hungry. Too thirsty. Too tired. And too hot. Maybe, just maybe, I could eat the old woman. It’s not exactly what I would call a “meal of choice”, but beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. Surely, no one would miss her. Or… even notice she was gone. You could say that I might even be doing the world a favor. And something about her nagged at me. Everything that happened after I ate the stew…or was it before? Was that today or yesterday? Jumbled thoughts swirled around my head but I couldn’t make sense of them. She was responsible for whatever this was, before, after, in the middle. It didn’t matter. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was just dumb. Because despite everything, I kept following her, like a lost puppy, no matter how many insults she threw at me. The sun was setting when the woman finally stopped in front of a tall, wooden house. The property was hidden behind several layers of overgrown shrubbery and more twisted branches. Not the type of place you stumble upon accidentally, not even if you’re running through the woods aimlessly. You would most certainly have to be looking. She led me behind the house, through a small patch of barren land, and down a stone staircase. A barred gate sat at the bottom, deadbolted shut, four times. I wondered who—or what—she was trying to keep out. Or possibly… in? The smell of blood wafted through the gate, sending a rush of warmth through my veins. It was intoxicating, inviting. I found myself anxious to enter. I was drawn to the smell like a child to candy. Visions once again flashed through my mind. Blood dripping from teeth as sharp as glass. Claws swiping left and right in the darkness. Bright, yellow eyes peering out from behind a tree, stalking. Flesh hanging from the bone. Cries for help that were only met with silence. The vision felt so personal. So real. It was as if I were the animal hunting in the night. As if I were the one devouring the flesh and laughing at the cries. Was this a vision, or a memory? “You’s really a dumb one!” The old woman’s hands shove me through the open gate. “Welcome home.” The interior was completely dark and grey, except for a sliver of daylight peeking in with the open door. The walls were stained and peeling. Two days ago, I would have been scared. Terrified. And I should have been. I should have turned around and ran for my life. But the darkness felt like home now, the chill like a blanket in the night. A hundred yellow eyes shine bright in the darkness, from behind rusted, metal cages. A hundred hands gripped to its metal bars, rattling. A hundred feet, stomping. Monsters, beasts, creatures of nightmares. It was a wall-to-wall display of imprisoned beings, each one unique in its own way. One with thorned flesh and hooved feet, another with an army of tentacled arms, dripping venom. Across the room, there was a creature with extendable eyes, and another that had twelve serpent tongues. There were small monsters with glowing wings and large monsters cloaked in the shadows. They were all being held in the bowels of this prison. And no one knew. Or if they did, they just didn’t care. Certainly, this woman, this little old raggedy woman, couldn’t control them all. How was she doing this? As she shoved me into an empty cage, a *ROAR* bellowed out from beneath my feet. Five eyes the size of bowling balls glared back at me, from underneath the grates in the floor, each one oozing thick, green pus. The Thing opened its mouth, and a dozen smaller versions of itself anxiously emerged. The monstrous beast then extended his arm, shoving his clawed fingers through the grate. Right into my cage. Liquid shot from the ends of its claws, landing on the cage floor, and me. *Pain. Throbbing. Fire.* It sizzled like a hot pan as it ate through my flesh in a matter of seconds. “You’s gonna behave, I think. Right?” The woman banged against the metal bars with her wooden stick. “Don’t wanna go make ‘em mad, now. Talkin’ ‘bout a real feisty one, him down there.” She tossed several scraps of meat on the ground in the cage, but I didn’t dare move. If I had to, I’d stay frozen in this corner forever. At least until I figured out how to escape. Trembling, I met the woman’s gaze, and forced a nod. For several moments, she stared back. She studied me like a science experiment, twisting her ugly, leathered face into a ball. Then she stepped up to the bars. “You’s still don’ get it?” I knew better than to try to speak, so I just nodded again. My head throbbed with each movement. She hobbled to the other side of the room and pulled something shiny from a bin. and tossed it in the cage. It shattered on the ground. Extending my arm as far as I could, I slid the largest piece across the dirt-soaked floor and picked up. Why had she given me this? And then broken it? It appeared to be a grotesque picture of one of these caged beasts. Serrated teeth. Horns. Rough skin, covered in thorns. It took a few moments to really set in. A gurgle escaped my throat and I gasped for a breath. My heart violently thumped against my chest. This was no picture. It was a shard of a dusty mirror. And in it, was… *Monster. Beast. Evil.* The words circled around and around in my head. *Monster. Beast. Evil.* *Me.* And for a split second, it all made sense. The pieces fit together: the woods, the stew, the blackout, the unbearable pain, the hunger. Only, it didn’t. None of it made sense at all. The old woman was gone when I looked up. The door slammed behind her, followed by the four clicking locks, as she disappeared into the night. “You ate the stew, didn’t you?” a low gravelly voice asked, from the other side of the room. “They always do,” said another. I was too afraid to respond or move, even though my mouth watered for the scraps of food on the floor. Certainly I could wait it out. Help would come, eventually. Wouldn’t it? *** - Feedback always welcome & appreciated. Thanks for reading! - Inspiration for this story came from this week's Micro Monday post: .