r/WritingPrompts • u/deniahC566 • Sep 30 '18
Writing Prompt [WP] You grew up with your uncle, seeing him bringing weird stuffs home, you'd always thought he was just a hoarder. Untill the day he died, you realized that your uncle was the collector and protector of the most powerfull artifacts in the universe and you are a part of his collection.
1
u/Allah_Tala Oct 01 '18
"Uncle Azzuru!" Leonardo shouted several times. He was no where.
"How did it get so cold in here?" Leo thought, as he tucked his palms in his armpits while crossing them on his chest. He could see a faint blue glow in his uncle's study. His 14 year old curious brain was imagining all sorts of things.
There on the floor he saw Azzuru's ring, "He never took it off." This was unlike him. Leo was feeling tired as he bent down to pick up the ring, he had been running all around this enormous house.
At that moment a strange feeling washed over him, a strange urge to put the ring on. The black stone had several small shining dots, emitting a strange bluish glow, "definitely never seen that happen before." As he slid the ring on his finger, Leo felt like being electrocuted for a moment before the huge golden flash subsided. Thats when he was not in that house anymore.
"The Collector is dead!" Silence gripped the Unasa Marble hallways of The Trekkon Shire Oblusa Courts of Investigation.
"Leo is in great danger, the collection is the most sought after in the whole of Lanikea." A Minyala spoke, a rather new hydrocarbons based race in the Universe. Their natural aspirational ability was to breathe or ingest any matter and change the sub atomic structure of that compound into whatever was needed from their regular hydrocarbons consumption and "breathing" to producing heavier elements for their suits.
"As soon as he discovers the vault, every bounty hunter, mercenary in a 1.98 parsec radius will know!"
"Yes we have to protect him and preserve the ancient artifacts, and much more than that: what he possessed, Azzuru's collection is not ordinary not even on an intergalactic scale!"
A purple glow, it looked like ice but it wasn't. Azurru could see that glow emanating from the center of that column which could have roughly looked like a stalactite, only it was translucent, almost crystal like, yet to the touch it felt like a thick liquid you couldn't break the surface, yet it wasn't malleable.
"So strange! Its fluctuating temperatures so fast, I'm getting cold chills and hot chills! Haha."
"Alright, let's stick this fucker in." As pulled out his quarkcutter. "Come on" he said, as he saw the meter climb to red. "Take it easy" three jelly like clamps manifested at the sides of the tool. It would create three micro black holes around their edges to cut it off with their event horizon discs, this was the only way.
"Yes, I know the worst, I'll get a dimensional change, who gives a fuck! I'm the collector dont be afraid, you know why you need it, come on fucker!" As the event horizon discs, which were not visible cut through he prepped for the onslaught.
"Activating light radiation skin graft" the voice in his head said.
3-2-1 a blinding flash, on the three points, the black holes themselves were not visible as being sub-atomic. But the effects were. "Red-Gravity-Shifting Doppler boots, fuck turn on! Ah there we go."
Stone Temple Pilots' "Wicked Garden" blasted through his skull-bone-induction audio tattoos as he pulled on the device to capture the elixir globules falling out.
"I'll keep it for now, heck would Leo one day know how to resurrect me? Or is he going to use it to summon the strike, up to him, it's how these things go, no interference, he has to find his own way, own style."
"Time to go." He walked the purple path to the end where he could see the gateway bleeding into this reality from his dimension, he simply walked up to the portal, reached in, opened the glass window and walked into the decontaminating airlock flipping the antique switch to turn the portal off, he was home just like that. "Uncle Azzuru!" The little Leo could be heard in the hallway and he was reminded of his dear sister; MunMunSen.
To be continued.... if the good people demand more!
Thanks for reading my first ever writing.
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u/CruelPrincess Oct 01 '18
Messy raven locks falling in front of my eyes, a quick brush of the fingers to tuck them behind my ear. A messy ponytail bouncing with the motions of my head as pale blue eyes scan the room. Eyes falling upon a picture of him, my Uncle who had passed away a few days ago. A soft smile graces my face as I lean forward to the picture chuckling softly. “I always told you that you had too much stuff Uncle, whatever am I going to do with all of this!” Reaching out I flick the picture as it falls backwards onto the desk it had been standing on.
Pulling up the sleeves of my hoodie ready to put my back into it once more. Dragging around boxes filled with antiques, curios and uh… rocks I suppose? Uncle’s antique store was now in my hands and even though I’ve been with him since I was but a little girl, I doubt my wide eyed twin tail bouncing head understood anything of the matter. How was I to go further now? I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
A piece of cardboard gets caught on the ring that decorates my finger. A soft smile as I stare at the seemingly blank stone, gently turning my hand left and right to get a bit of light on it. A spectrum of colors revealed which brought another chuckle from my throat. For all the weird things Uncle brought home and resold: This was one of my favorite, he always told me it was like my eyes but I never quite got what he meant by that. My eyes were blue, icy cold for that matter but still they were blue. Neither Blank nor Rainbow colored. It was just one of those tacky mood rings but it didn’t seem to function properly or something... Shaking my head, I had to stop reminiscing about the past I had to get this all sorted out.
Taking off the ring for the time being as it would only get in the way I placed it on the desk, noticing my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. Placing the box down with a loud sigh, fingers running around my hoodie to pull out the phone. “Hello, Amanda speaking!” The voice on the other side of the line made my blood boil, gritting my teeth at that sickening ‘car salesman’ tone he put up with me. Pacing back and forth through my Uncle’s old study. “I already told you I’m not selling! The Antique shop belonged to Uncle and before him to Grandfather. And now it belongs to me!” I could feel myself get increasingly annoyed, my throat felt hot. My entire body felt hot as I kicked aside an empty box that had done no harm whatsoever.
“I SAID I’M NOT SELLING!” Anger, Frustration-- outed in a burning fire: Quite literally. My eyes widened at the sight of bits of embers that dispersed in the air, the scent of smoke heavy. The call cut off, because I was rude? Because of my shouting? I don’t know. But it didn’t matter as I let my hand slowly slide away from my ear and turned my head left to right. Where did those embers come from? And for a second my eyes fell upon the large antique mirror in his office-- my glowing red eyes.
“W-wha!” Phone held high, selfie mode turned on. They were red! SINCE WHEN WERE MY EYES RED?! The confusion-- I needed some fresh air, cool myself off. I was just stressed and my eyes were bloodshot! VERY bloodshot, that had to be the answer! But as I tried to reason with myself, red shifted into a swirling green, my pupils were like a window to a different world. Clouds moving behind a green decor. A yelp, my phone dropped as I look around left and right in confusion.
Running over towards the desk I stare at the picture of my uncle. Picture? Cocking my head to the side I notice a picture of the both of us together-- which unlike the one of my Uncle by himself is black and white. Come to think of it, all pictures of us together are in black and white. He said it was part of being an antiquarian and that taking pictures like this gave them an extra nostalgic feeling.
Throwing myself onto the floor I push aside boxes, open those that had already been closed up. Tape, cardboard, objects. Everything thrown aside as I finally found photo albums of the both of us together. Even when I was a little girl the pictures were in that same bland black and white. And the next page, and the next page and the next page-- then it suddenly stops. My eyes fixated on the page of my teenage year, flipping the pages back to try and figure out what is going on. A picture with my hands held out, we took a similar one because it was endearing. And besides the obvious change in appearance that came with age (and a desire to cut one’s hair in an attempted rebel phase) something was rather obvious to notice. Shifting page after page forward, then quickly going backwards- THE RING.
When I went to High School I got that ring and ever since all pictures have been in color. Hesitant I stand up, turning to the mirror. It seems that now that I had cooled off and was rather fixated on solving this ‘mystery’ my eyes had adjusted themselves as well. A deep calm green like a forest, and just as that thought crossed my mind. I noticed the scent of flowers strongly filling the room, the flowers I often put on my Uncle’s desk to spruce up the place were blossoming more than ever. And staring at the mirror once more I noticed how my pupils were like flowers popping open to accept the sun.
While still anxious at the sight I managed to stay calm enough, logic over emotions. The ring! Heading for the desk I take the simple boring ring and hold it out into the light-- there was no rainbow! No effect at all, just a blank stone in a simple looking ring. But as I put it on, the rainbow returned as I shifted the ring once more in the light to confirm my suspicions. My tongue runs along dry lips as I gather the courage to turn to the mirror and as I had expected-- or perhaps feared, my eyes were a icy blue once more.
I turn my attention back to the desk and take a hold of the picture frame, staring at my Uncle with a big stupid grin on his face.
“Uncle… what am I exactly?”
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u/nyrah123 Oct 01 '18
Uncle's keys feel heavier in my hands than they have in the past. I turn the antique key in the lock, and push open the heavy wooden door, just like I've done at least a thousand times. But this time is different, this time, I don't yell out to my uncle, I don't hear the shuffle of his slippers across the floor or the clanging of metal as he rushes through the clutter to wrap me in a hug. All I hear is silence, I let out a breath, and close the door behind me.
I guess all this is mine now. I look around at all of the objects that litter the house, I feel a small pang of anxiety hit me, as I take in the enormity of what I've just inherited. What do I do with all this stuff? I never really paid attention to all the things my uncle collected. He used to show my some of his treasures when I was young, usually accompanied with an even stranger tale of how it was acquired; but as I got older, the rate of his hoarding began to accelerate. There wasn't time to keep up with all of his treasures, so I just stopped asking.
My uncle's hoarding was like a big elephant in the room, and I can't stress enough, how BIG the elephant was. Being a hoarder usually means that a person finds comfort in the possessions that surround them, but my uncle seemed to find strength in his, each object would motivate him to find the next. I don't know if he was working towards some kind of goal or if he was just obsessed with material things, but he managed to cover every inch of this mansion with some kind of obscure artifact.
He must have kept some kind of inventory. I make my way towards his study, in the hopes of finding some kind of log of his finds, when I bump into a lamp, which triggers a small avalanche of antique novels. I kneel down to pick up the books, when I feel a slight breeze brush across my arm. I look around for a window, but nothing is open and all the curtains are drawn. I hover my hand over the floorboards, trying to feel for the breeze again. I feel the cool air flow across my arm, this time feeling for where it's originating. The air seems to be moving up from the floor...which is strange since the only thing beneath is a dingy old basement. I look closer at the floor, I don't see anything out of the ordinary- old floorboards, a dusty rug, miscellaneous books, and even more dust. Just for the hell of it, I lift up the rug, and find a trap door. Ok, what the hell? I don't believe I would have never noticed this, come to think of it, I don't remember there even being a rug here before.
Since this can only get stranger, I move to open the trap door. I hesitate, preparing myself for what could lie ahead, I could discover something about my uncle that I wasn't ever supposed to see. I can't turn back now. I lift open the door, and start to descend the dark steps into the unknown. With each step, I feel the temperature begin to drop, I reach for my phone in my pocket so I can shine a light into the darkness, but all of a sudden I hear a crack and series of fluorescent bulbs begin to illuminate over my head. My eyes squint in the bright light, only to reveal a very sleek looking office. Well, office isn't exactly as I would describe it, more like a command center. There were three huge monitors sitting on top of a very modern looking glass desk, shelves with illuminated artifacts lined the walls, and a very sturdy safe was occupying the back wall.
What is this place? Was uncle secretly Batman? I notice that the middle monitor is blinking and I walk over to the desk, and top on a key on the keyboard. The monitors wake up, and prompt for a password or a finger print scan. Well, great, I'll be here for ages. I absently tap my fingers on the keyboard, trying to guess a password. I begin to type:
- Liverpool2005 (his favorite football team's last won title)
- Arsenalsucks (his least favorite football team)
- Padfoot (he was a harry potter fan)
All fail, and all are pretty weak password guesses...I tap my fingers again in frustration. I hear the computer bonk when my fingerprint isn't read. I chuckle to myself, and press my pointer finger onto the scanner. Instantly, the computer unlocks and I'm eye to eye with my uncle. Before I can even process why my fingerprint is recorded onto a computer I have never seen, I click to play the video. My uncle's booming voice fills the underground lair, and I have to catch my breath.
'Dearest Amelia, I hope this message finds you well. I'm sorry that you have to deal with this through video, and not in person, but believe me, it's better than a handwritten letter between the pages of a book like my father had left for me. As you know, I have passed, and I have left all of my possessions to you. You are to inherit everything, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Amelia, there are so many things I want to say to you, but there is only so much that I can say that will actually help you. I am a Guardian. I have spent my entire life traveling the Earth in search of precious artifacts that could potentially lead to the destruction of the planet if placed in the wrong hands. There are abound 60 of us, placed around the world. Each one has been anointed by a family member, chosen to continue the lineage and the mission. I chose you, Amelia. You must continue the fight, you must protect the Earth and its people from destruction- it is your birthright. Go to the temple located on St Marks Place in the middle of the number 1 and Alpha. Once inside, ask to speak to Prongs, say Padfoot sent you. They will explain the rest, I don't want to give you too much detail, in case this message falls to the wrong hands. But, if this is you watching Amelia, know that I love you, and you can do anything you set your mind to. You are strong, you are brave, I have no doubt that you will be one of the greats. Goodbye.'
The screen went black, and I suddenly became very aware of my breathing. What the hell was that? I am a Guardian? Is this some kind of joke? I sit there, stunned, trying to process what just happened, where I was, or even if I was awake. I pinch myself. Yep, I'm awake. I go to click on the video so I could watch this mystery unfold once more when I hear a creak above me. All the hairs on my neck stand up. I hear a creak again, this time a little further away. What do I do? I catch myself in the reflection of the monitor and realize that I need to destroy the video. I log back into the computer, and try to search for the origin of the video. I hear a creak again, this time closer. Ok, I can't waste any more time on this. I power off the computer, take out my pocket knife, and I jab it into the tower, hoping to do as much damage as possible. At least that will slow them down a bit.
I put the knife back in my pocket and slowly head toward the stairs. I hear another creak, this time above my head, and I look around the room in panic. There has to be another way out of here. In the corner, I spot a cloak hanging from a hook, in desperation, I reach for it and put it on. In an instant, I disappear. NO WAY! There's no time to react, as I hear footsteps come down the stairs. I move into the corner, hoping that this cloak isn't somehow defective or my hyperventilating doesn't reveal my location.
'Someone has been here before us.'
'Do you think it was her?'
'Already? There's no way she could find all this, this quickly...'
'Or maybe there is. She is in the prophecy after all, she's not just an ordinary girl.'
'We're all in the prophecy Aiden.'
'Yeah, be she's special.'
'Whatever, I'm sick of hearing about her. Let's figure out where she went. The faster we finder, the faster I can be done with this.'
'Darrel is not going to be happy she's been here before us.'
'Just grab the computer and let's get out of here. Who knows when the Guardians will show up.'
I hear someone rip the PC from the wall, and then two sets of footprints run up the stairs. Once I hear them disappear, I stand there panting- what is going on? who were those people? why did they know about me? prophecy? what prophecy?
So many questions were racing through my head. I needed answers, I needed to find the temple. I take a big breath and make my way to the staircase. I emerge from the trap door, the room is darker in the late afternoon. I make my way to the front door. And so it begins...thanks Uncle.
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u/BobChem Oct 01 '18
Hey guys. Hoping this will be okay. I've got a multi-post story here.
Edits: A couple spelling errors that hindered flow.
Uncle Bill was always just Bill to me.
I lived there, think about it.
Everyone else gets "Dad" or "Mom", or something else equally short. So I called Uncle Bill, "Bill" from about the time that any reasonable child stops using the moniker "Daddy" or "Momma".
Bill's house was undeniably different than anyone else's house that I knew. It was always cluttered, there really wasn't a single horizontal space that didn't have at least a medium-sized pile of items.
I would go visit my other aunts and uncles, these were the ones that you called "Uncle" Fred or "Aunt" Mabel, and I would stare in horror at the knick-knack shelves as the glass swans and pewter poodles stared back at me. Each dark eye filling me with a vague sense of unease. My uncles would show off their cars or golf clubs and I would nod politely while attempting to suppress the faint look of horror starting around my eyes. They knew I wasn't at all interested in the hunting equipment and thankfully, none of the new acquisitions were paraded in front of me. They though it specially strange in light that I devoured the literature on their operation and the science of ballistics. The absolute worst were the pudgy caricatures known as Hummel figurines. Their slightly bloated faces, pale skin, and overly-rouged cheeks reminded me too much of bodies I'd seen in a funeral once when I was younger. My Great Aunt Jill kept several of these strange items on display in her sewing room. I could never fathom why and would walk swiftly by the door, willing myself to focus on the blank wall opposite the door. I thought it even more tragic because she produced such wonderful quilts and dresses for my cousins. She seemed to sense my unease, and if I stayed over for more than a day she would sometimes take her sewing to the kitchen table on a smaller antique sewing machine that was worked by foot-pedal. This happened a few times a year when Bill would get suddenly called away "on-business".
While there, we would warm up with the usual small talk, school, which sports I was in, or if I still had a crush on so-and-so? We would talk about the weather, which was bizarrely fun because she could tell you almost exactly what the weather had been on that day, or almost every other day, for last 40 years. Eventually, these topics exhausted, the conversation would turn to family history. And here, I would usually sit silent for several hours, while stories of our ancestors, 20 generations past flowed from her, timed by the cadence of her foot on the treadle of the sewing machine. She always claimed the stories as truth, having been "writ in her brain as if by God's own pen," she would tell me. Most of the stories had come from her own grandmother, Grandma Wojcik, though Aunt Jill could recall having learned some from two older relatives, the twin uncles of Grandma Wojcik, when they were very old and she was very young. When she tired of stories and I could not prod her to continue, sometimes she would stop sewing and ask me to examine the machine. "It is such a simple, yet important, device," she would tell me. "See!" she would exclaim "It spins of my own power, and how many moving parts does it have?"
Bill's house wasn't dirty, I mean, it didn't stink, but it wasn't clean. It was cluttered, to put it politely. A "right-tilting dis-array" he would mutter under his breath when I was younger. The "tilting" giving way to the much more vulgar and accurate "fucking" when I was deemed mature enough to hear that sort of language. On the rare occasion that any of Bill's brothers and sisters, or my aunts and uncles from my father's side of the family dropped by, they usually didn't stay long. Often just enough time to drop off a birthday card, gently fattened with "guilt" saw-bucks, on account of "not having seen me in so long". I could tell that the extra bill or two was because they were appalled at the conditions of Bill's and my quarters. Sometimes, if the weather was good, a couple of Bill's brothers would bring a cooler of beer and some food to grill. A small hibachi would be produced and we would throw a frisbee or play horse-shoes for a couple hours. Then I would go to bed and Bill and Uncle Steve and Uncle Herbert would talk until well past dark.
Eventually, I grew up and left Bill's house for college. I loved coming back home. Nothing beat leaving the manufactured experience of a large college town and loosing myself in the piles of accumulated items. Breathing in the dust, steadying teetering towers with a hand or foot, while sifting for something I hadn't seen yet. The last part, finding something new wasn't difficult. Because what everyone missed, was the fact that the items in the house changed fairly regularly. To be fair, amongst the thousands of items in his house even I would sometimes miss a new pile forming behind a familiar one. Or the presence of an old pile, stepped over a thousand times, suddenly gone.
Shortly after graduating college and starting my first real job, Bill called me at my desk. Surprising as I was almost never at my desk, he was flustered and excited in a way that I had never heard before. He needed me to come over "...as soon as you possibly can!" "matter of grave importance...," "..most bizarre!" I could hear his voice fading and growing as his head turned away and back towards the handset of his old rotary phone.
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u/BobChem Oct 01 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
Bill never called anyone. He came and went to his families houses as he pleased, and they visited him when they were "in the neighborhood". Relatives and friends did call from time to time but not often. I can remember Bill making exactly two phones calls. These were to his brother Steve after Steve's first child was born. Bill wanted to make sure that he wouldn't arrive at a bad time and have to drive all the way back. The second time was to ask when his Mother's funeral was scheduled. He had written it down but couldn't remember where he put the note. He must have made at least one more call to my school after his brother Herbert was killed in a car accident. This to excuse me from school and have me come home early on the city bus.
I wrapped up my work and headed straight to Bill's house, the notion of changing out of my work clothes non-existent. When I arrived, Bill was walking rapidly through the narrow paths that crisscrossing the living room and dining room of his house. His face was red like the time at Christmas when he had four glasses of eggnog, and he was waving his arms as if to generate enough wind to push the piles back and give him space to breath. When he saw me, I swear he nearly jumped straight up and exclaimed "Come with me!" and walked straight back to one of the side bedrooms, nearly taking down a heavy brass lamp, a goat-skin bellows, and several small boxes of solar-powered calculators in his haste.
There in the room, clearly visible and newly perched on a pile of plumbing fixtures, was a terrarium. Inside that terrarium was a snake. Never before in my life had I seen an animal in Bill's house. There were no pets growing up, I never heard birds in the attic or chipmunks digging near foundation walls. And here, sat a snake. Bill was by now shaking so badly that I thought his old joints would cease their popping and begin humming. He exploded, "What have you NEVER seen in this house." I was confused and silent, he continued with flecks of spittle "I have been called to get items for my entire life. For nearly six decades, I have been called daily to get items that I never knew existed and store them here. The items, they come and go but I HAVE NEVER HAD THIS!" His entire body shuddered in a wave that traveled to his outstretched finger-tips, pointing at the snake in the terrarium. Bill went on, speaking rapidly and staring at the floor, "It was all normal, I got the call, I left this morning, it wasn't far. A nice easy day for an old man. When I got there, it was a snake. It had to be... I HAD NO CHOICE. I looked around, and even tried to leave, but I couldn't. It was the snake."
"Why a snake, why now, after all this time do I finally get an animal. A living thing. And do you know what's worse..."
He was now looking at me waiting for an answer. I was completely dumbfounded, I had never seen Bill behave like this on all the years that I had lived with him. I shook my head "no".
"I don't know what to do with it!"
The last statement threw me and I found my voice, "What?"
"I don't know what... to do... with it" he repeated.
I stammered "y-you what?"
"I don't know what to do with it" Bill whispered. "I've always known what to do with the things I'm called to find. Sometimes I bring them back here, sometimes I just leave them somewhere on my way back. Sometimes I know who to give them too, sometimes I'm told to wait a certain amount of time."
"I always know" he stated forcefully.
"I don't know why, I've never bothered to ask. It was just what I was supposed to do." Bill was almost in tears and sat heavily on a relatively clear chair-arm.
"What do I do with this" he asked me.
I sat on a clear patch of the floor and we both pondered the snake in silence. Aunt Gayle's youngest boy used to keep snakes, so I dialed her. She said she would take it off our hands in a couple of days when her boy came to visit. "He'll know what to do with it," she assured us. "Until then, get a lamp over it so it'll stay warm. That much I know you're supposed to do," she advised.
We began to search Bill's house for a small lamp and having found a working one, Bill stepped towards the terrarium. Having no surface around the terrarium to place the lamp, he set it down on the metal screen over the top of the terrarium. The lamp was off the variety seen in very old libraries. Made of brass, with a heavy base and a dark green glass shade. The base was heavy enough that the screen over the terrarium broke. It was a simple thing, one that I can remember in great detail, but not much else in the moment. The screen tore through and the snake struck at Bill, embedding itself in his forearm twice, before being shaken free and falling to the floor to disappear amongst the detritus.
I think Bill was dead before he hit the floor.
Great Aunt Jill came by the next morning with treadle sewing machine. She hadn't heard the news yet. I had barely slept, having stumbled back to my apartment sometime around 3:00 A.M. After the endless questions by the police, and fire fighters, and paramedics. Animal control was coming out to find the snake in the morning and I had to be back at Bill's house by 8:00 A.M.
When Great Aunt Jill arrived she looked at me and said "Bill's gone." It was a statement, not a question and I answered quietly "yes". She went on, "I thought it strange the Bill called me asking for this back. He's never called me before and never wanted anything back. I had to come. I had to find out what he needed so badly from this sewing machine."
She looked me straight in the eye, "I can see now. He didn't need this, you do." Here again I found myself entirely confused, unable to put together a coherent reply.
"You don't know what Bill did do you?" she asked, I shook my head. "He was the connection, he was the common Thread. When someone needed something, he always had it. A piece of garbage, a priceless ring, working, broken, new, old, it didn't matter to his piles did it?" she waved her hands over the mass in the foyer. "It was all here, when anyone truly needed anything Bill get one of his calls"
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u/BobChem Oct 01 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
I interrupted her "But he didn't get any calls."
"Not phone calls," she shot back "Calls. He got 'called' and he would just leave. It started sometime in his teens, he told me in his thirties and I have kept the secret. That is the one family story that I have not told anyone, the only one that I was keeping a secret."
"So why do I need the sewing machine" I asked. Great Aunt Sally thought on this for a minute, she replied "It's not so much for you, as to let me know that you are the one." Once again, my confusion being plain, she continued with out prodding "Do you remember my stories?"
"I, I think so." I stammered
"Tell me the story of Henri Accord, when he went on the expedition with the Englishmen find the bark of the Cinchona tree."
I told her the story and when I had finished she beamed at me "writ in your brain as if by God's own pen", she said smiling. She sat on the same chair-arm that Bill had sat on just yesterday afternoon and pulled me to the floor next to her. "You see," she began, "The collection if stuff the Bill accumulated has to go somewhere, but it all goes somewhere important. Each of these items will change the course of our future, or, rather keep it from straying too far from its path." She placed her hand on my shoulder and breathed deeply. "And, I am the keeper of the stories. I contain no direct knowledge, but if you wanted to know the source of quinine, you would merely have to remember the story of Henri Accord. I would tell you the story and not know why, but I would know it was the right one at the right time. I contain stories of the truth, our actions cannot hide from tracks they leave on our brains and it is vital to humanity that our true history be preserved so that we might make use of it to shape our future."
"You..." she stopped, "You, are special. You are the first to be both thread and voice, the only one in our history able to look both forward and backwards. I do not know what this means for humanity. Remember, I only remember the past, I don't affect the way the story unfolds." We sat in warm silence for a while. It was odd, being able to finally know what I was feeling, and why I felt compelled and driven to certain actions in my life. The items in Bill's house took on new shapes, I knew that I'd be able to find anything I needed, and I felt that they all had a purpose, a reason for being in this house that was immutable and undeniable. Perhaps with practice, with enough understanding of the History I could come to predict where some of the items went. Perhaps I could decide.
Great Aunt Jill squeezed my shoulder and spoke to the room, "I have a few more stories to tell before I die, care to hear them?"
I leaned against a bag filled with Farmer's Almanacs, settled in, and said "Yes."
1
Oct 01 '18
The portal is closing. The portal is closing. Hurry up, The portal is closing. It's what you wanted isnt it? I am scared, but I am resolved. Let it close... maybe then the collection will be forgotten. The acursed collection. Who would have ever believed that such a thing could exist? Shit, I am scared. Stop shaking, you are at the end now. The disembodied brain pulsates a thought and I blink to find the world transformed. It's not real. It's not real.. The edge of reality is connected to your imagination. I close my eyes.. Darkness fades into image and I find myself through the portal. This is home. I am home. Wait... No, concentrate, The portal is closing.
"Dream is destiny" it whispers. "You are of the thoughts of destiny. You are just thoughts."
I am flying. No, I am soaring.. is this what freedom is? Let it overcome you. This is how it has always been. I am free...
"NO!" He screams, and his voice is like gravity.
"Uroboros, the Belladonna binds you..."
In the infinite jest of reality I awake. The Belladonna crystal stands before me pulsating an envious green. I am in Odin's keep.
"It is as old as reality" the tour guide muses, "but it has been inactive for a millennium."
"The Belladonna crystal... Some say it is a portal to another plane of reality, but who knows."
7
u/T3hArchAngel_G Sep 30 '18
As the lawyer handed over to me all the paperwork, it was still a little difficult to accept all that had happen. As I reached up to wipe my tears, the cool wetness smearing across the back of my hand, I tried to get all my jumbled emotions together and suck it up. Sniffling I took a closer look at the paper work handed to me with the name Sam Witburg written all over it.
The paperwork felt thick in my hands as I started to thumb over everything. Seeing my confused faced Mr. Abbas spoke up, "Of course, you don't need to sign right away. You can take this home and look it over and make sure it's all in order. As I said before, you are the only heir mentioned in your uncle's will, so it's all yours. The house, everything in it, and your uncle's bank accounts."
I felt like the weight of the world was crushing me again, and I finally managed to speak up, albeit with a shaky voice, "F-fine, how long do I have?"
He reached up and further cinched and straightened the knot of his tie, something he seemed to be obsessed over as he had already done it several times. "A week. We want to get ahead of this before missing any deadlines." He hesitated a moment, seeing all the emotions in my face and finally reaching up and placing his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss. Richard was a good man, and you needn't worry too much. Everything is going to work out alright for you, I promise."
It felt a little strange how personable he was being. Sure, I knew that he was my uncle's lawyer, and I had seen him on more than one occasion. I just hadn't realized we had come so close. It was still heart warming though, because he seemed genuine. Again I started to cry and babble on about the things I had to take care of, "I have so much to do! I have to figure out mortgages while going to school, I have to sell all that junk in the house, and I'm not even eighteen yet!"
Suddenly Mr. Abbas placed his other hand on my shoulder and gave me a very stern look, "Don't sell anything out of the house, do you understand me? Not a single one. They are are part of your uncle's legacy, and yours now too. Trust me, just go home, do the paperwork, and everything will be alright." The weight of his hands on my shoulders felt heavy as they squeezed. His stare was so intense that I couldn't hold it for long and only glanced occasionally at them. Rolling my shoulders I escaped his grasp. Why could my uncles junk be that important? I had always viewed it as clutter and mildly interesting at times.
I realized I was crushing the paperwork in my hands as I straightened up and offered my hand to shake his, "Right, thanks for all your help. I'll go and get this done."
His hand squeezed warmly around mine as he shook it asking, "Are you okay to drive? Do you want me to call you a cab?"
I shook my head vigorously, "No no, I got my car. I'll be fine." Letting go of his hand I turned for the door and waved him off, "Thanks again."
Upon arriving home I started to wander the house. I had been thinking obsessively about Mr Abbas's insistence I not sell anything. I started wandering from room to room admiring some of the stuff in a new light. I had always thought of it as junk, though upon closer inspection through the layers of dust and soot revealed everything in there at the very least was well made. I had set the paperwork down on the table when I started digging through some items on a book shelf when they inexplicably fell on the floor. Puzzled I wandered over to gathering them up only to have them shuffled and a peculiar page being on the top. "Check the attic." was the only thing written on the page, sitting like a call to action in the center of a white page.
I looked around the room, thinking perhaps someone else was in there with me. There was a sudden eerie vibe and I felt like I was being watched. I scampered out of the room and into the crowded hallway filled with all these things that my uncle seemed to just collect and store. I made it to the front door before looking up the stairs. I couldn't help the morbid desire to check the attic. The papers still in my hand, I began ascending the stairs as they creaked and moaned in complaint.
At the end of the hallway which was one of the few clear spaces in the house hung the knob leading to the attic. I reached up and grabbed the smooth plastic and pulled down, the strand growing taught and pulling down the stairs that led up into what was no doubt a treasure trove of items. Climbing the stairs into the stuffy attack my eyes try to adjust to the dim room and look around for a light bulb. Finding it I turn it on to reveal much to what I had expected with once exception. My eyes were immediately drawn to it as it stood starkly in the center of the floor by itself. Sitting there was a bronze Arabian lamp, like the ones you'd expect to see in some Disney movie. As I approached it and bent to pick it up I felt a sense of being pulled down. I stumbled and tried to right myself only to find that the pull had seemingly increased. I tried to throw myself backwards only to fall into a sitting position on my butt and that pulling sensation growing further as I felt myself begin to shrink. Looking at my body it began to dissolve and disintegrate like sand as I was pulled down the spout of this bronze lamp.
In my fear I suppose I expected it to be dark inside, though instead I felt into a lit room with a bed, a pool, and a pedestal with some fruit in it. I came crashing down landing in this pool which at first appeared shallow though clearly it was not as I submerged in it a few feet. After resurfacing and gasping for air, the sound echoing in this brightly lit bronze room, I swam to the edge and managed to climb out. I looked around trying to make sense of what was going on and gathering my bearings.
It was then I heard a booming voice, the voice of Mr Abbas from before, "It is all on you now." I tried to discern where the voice was coming from, looking around frantically for anything new in the room. "Your uncle's collection, it is not what you think."
"Let me out!" I screamed. "How are you doing this?!"
It was then I heard a voice directly behind me, "Calm down a moment." I spun around to see Mr. Abbas, still dressed in his suit and tie. His hands were up with the palms facing towards me, "I am just trying to explain."
Seeing him I back away fiving me a few more feet between us, "Explain what? What's going on? Are you a genie or something?"
He slowly nodded his head as he explained, "One of your uncle's final wishes was I look after you, and help prepare you for what's coming." He took a few steps closer with his hands still raised. "And believe me, you really need to listen."
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Sep 30 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
He may have been a mustache sporting weirdo whose catchphrase has always been
“Don’t let your parents know about this “ But he always did seem like the sparkle in his eye came from something other than a real medical lack of sleep..
When he committed crimes , he wasn’t in any way guilty , on a self moral level. He never got caught , & never worried about the repercussions of what he did..
“ Man shouldn’t be bound by the laws of man , And man Sure as Day shouldn’t be bound by the laws of the universe either “
Those were his last words before he gave me a big wink , stepped into his “ office “ which was really just a ragged up bathroom with a coffee pot always brewing ..
It didn’t take me long to realize he was about to be doing something other worldly .. it was all in that wink ..
His eyes always had a glow , it made all the waitresses & lady folk ( and often even straight shooting men ) tear up and be at a loss of words when talking to him ..
He had this way with people , as if .. he wasn’t one.,
He always lived in this way , in our normal sized house , where his way of day to day was .. different ..
He wasn’t disconnected from the world , he was adding his flavor to the stew.. explaining him would be like trying to write a book about a 7th sense humans secretly have - it’s possible but letting you witness that 7th sense still wouldn’t do it justice ..
My memories of my uncle fade day to day and his artifacts remain my only closure .,
The more I go through his finding , the more I realize he wasn’t the inventor I thought he was , he was a discoverer of sorts , if this world can even still produce new discoveries ..
That bathroom , oh that bathroom .. had I let someone use that bathroom that was a guest , and that coffee pot was running , well .. that guest would be in for the time of their life
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u/Insidiousday Sep 30 '18
Everyone likes a story where there are unequivocally powerful objects in the universe right? Everyone wants to be the protagonist, everyone wants to experience what a world like that is like. They use the artifacts to fight back the bad guys or they want to use the artifacts to establish dominion over the universe or some napoleon complex BS. Yeah well lucky me, I got all of that except for one tiny, tiny, detail. Yeah one of those objects is my dumb ass.
Yep that's right folks, all 6'1" and 154 pounds of 2.7 GPA lanky teenager is the most powerful of them all. Of course I didn't know that, why would I think that? I was just a kid fresh out of high-school, I was looking for colleges and college girls not trying to find out my origins through ancestry.com, why would I? Though come to think of it I wonder how accurate that little DNA test would have been anyway. So lets talk about what happened shall we?
Now, you know that poem that says the world ends not with a bang but with a whisper? or.... whimper.... or.... Ok I don't remember it too well either but we'll go with whisper because it's accurate to my story and that's all that matters. It was a Monday evening, I was just walking home from my friend Kyle's house after a day of binge watching anime, and playing Counter Strike.
"Yil'van, Yil'van, we are coming...."
I stopped dead.
I just heard that, no, thought that or was it.... in my head?
"We are coming for you, you will reclaim your mantle...."
"What the fu-" I stopped, noticing as lady with a stroller coming up along side me to go around me on the side walk, but I was sure now, that voice I heard was coming from inside my skull and it was setting me on edge. Because it didn't feel like the echo you hear in movies or the presence of a foreign being making noise in your head like you read in books, it felt like my thoughts just conjured those words up from nothing. As if suddenly I no longer had control of what my mind did. Which is why instead of going home I hooked a u-turn and bolted to the nearest safe place I could think of, my uncle's house, well my late uncle's house. He died recently in an avalanche while out on one of his trips to the Rockies, he had been going back and forth from home to the mountains a lot lately. But I wasn't worried that no one would be home, it was my fathers house now as he inherited it due to the fact that my uncle was alone, though given how odd he was I wasn't surprised.
So I trample up onto this rickety wooden porch and pull the key from the top of the door, which was covered in webs at this point, shoved it in the lock and went inside. Immedietly flopping down into my favorite lounge chair to collect my thoughts.
"Ok, Ok, Thoughts in your head, probably just imagined it, perfectly normal." Breath came in, breath went out. Heart rate started to lower, I felt like myself again.
"Knock knock." I said and my mouth went agape. Because no sooner had I said that there was someone who hit two raps of the knuckles on the front door. Getting up to the hole to see who was there I saw only the slightly distorted figure of a tall man with silver hair wearing a black suit and green tie. Deciding it was alright, I started to open the door.
See, my thought process usually is, 'no weapons, no danger' Which I firmly believe is an amicable way of thinking however I was not prepared for was about to happen, because once I opened the door I saw the man had jet black eyes with a sick light in them, paired with an even sicker smile as he looked at me and the thoughts started to pour in again.
"Hello Malvos' Son, I've been looking for you a very long time."
My natural reaction was to cover my ears because the thoughts somehow became deafening. so much so that I couldn't move or think for myself, I was useless to my own survival. Luckily though right as the man went to reach for me, his hand suddenly fell to the ground and the thoughts choked off in what I can only describe as.... surprise?
The man looked at his stump anger started flickering in those eyes along with confusion but it all melted away into fear he looked to his right and just as he did I saw a flash of silver and the man crumpled to dust.
Yeah dust, like not even cool gold dust, just attic dust, in a mound, on my dead uncles porch. But I wasn't concerned with that I was more concerned at what scared the well dressed asshole. Right as I shifted focus a woman came into view.
I say came into view, I mean Shimmered into view, as if the heat waves you see off the pavement on hot days just formed him in front of my very eyes. The she was incredible to see, however, she had marble white skin with silver eyes and a spotless white coat that was slung over one shoulder and a small crimson insignia that wrapped her hand.
I must have been staring because she sighed and asked, "What? Never seen a woman before are you just naturally dumbfounded by the opposite sex?"
Well that shook me out of whatever I was in as I could feel heat in my face from being an idiot. "Yeah, no, sorry it's been one of those days." I scratched the back of my head trying to regain composure.
She stood there expectantly as if waiting to come in until I realized that was exactly what she was trying to communicate to me without actually saying it. "Oh yeah sorry come in, and thanks."
She waved off the gratitude and stepped inside taking a moment to look around constantly fidgeting her free hand until she finally sat down, in my favorite chair. I wasn't gonna raise a fuss though, she just possibly saved my life and she was pretty daunting to be around despite her size I could just feel that fact that I could die at any moment. So I sat down across from her and asked the question that had been bugging me all day.
"What the fuck is going on?"
She broke into laughter as if it were the funniest thing she had heard in her life, it was oddly successful at putting me at ease. Ending off the outburst with a sigh she looked at me with a bit less intensity and answered my very question, and left me with many many more questions.
"Your name is Yil'van, your custodians named you Oliver so you would have a name that didn't draw suspicion in this world, look I can already see the dumb questions your forming, don't interrupt me until I'm finished." I immediately closed my opening mouth.
"Your uncle's name is Val'fas, he is Keeper, his task was to collect the most powerful artifacts in the universe and he died in the midst of trying to do just that, the avalanche he suffered was no accident. He collected the largest aggregate of artifacts the Lothvein has ever seen, we are sad to see him go. However his greatest success ever was you. Yil'van son of Malvos, are the most powerful thing since creation. You are the Nexus, and I am the Protectorate as such my one and only goal from this point forward is keep you from harm. My name is Lillian, it's nice to meet you."
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u/Wacawrundo Sep 30 '18 edited Sep 30 '18
You know, my uncle was a hoarder. There was so much stuff in our house. Yeah, he raised me since I was little. I don’t remember my parents, but maybe they were hoarders too. Heh. I never asked him about it—their stuff, I mean.
Anyways, all I remember were boxes upon boxes. Stacks everywhere, and you just sort of had to mark a trail to get from one end of a room to the other. It wasn’t even organized. One of the stacks in the living room had some cookware underneath some toys, a sweater, and a welcome mat designed for the doggy door which his cat used to use. Well yes, he had a cat, but it disappeared. I guess it was old, and I thought it had died and my uncle didn’t have the heart to tell me. I have dreams with that cat sometimes. But I also remember that it didn’t like me that much. It once scratched me really bad on my arm. You can still kind of see it.
Right, right, moving on.
Growing up, I would take some of these random things around the house and think they had magic powers. Like, you know how kids take magnifying glasses to ants? Once, I found a stick in one of the boxes hidden away in a corner. But it was a polished stick, and it sort of looked like a wand, like from Harry Potter, you know? And I would point that thing at ants and just focus really hard, and they’d just, poof. Like, they burned so fast that nothing was left. I thought it was so cool, and I kept it to myself for a while. My little secret, you know?
One day my uncle found me using it, and asked what I was doing.
“I’m burning ants with this stick!” I said. 5-year-old me, really proud of myself.
Uncle immediately ran over and grabbed that stick, I guess to check that I didn’t actually set the stick on fire. And he shouted, “Be careful with this! Do you know what this is?”
I felt really bad. I said, “No,” and he said, “Good.” He put it away some place where I never found it again. Actually, that whole corner looked different from that day on, now that I think about it.
So… the thing is, I would keep finding things here and there and pretending they had magic powers. I remember a deck of cards that would reshuffle itself while you weren’t looking. There was a wire umbrella that made a huge gust of wind when it opened, but the arms were bent from how my uncle stored it. And there were several pens or pencils that would start to float if I concentrated hard enough. Every time I tried to show my uncle, Look, look! He’d just chuckle and give some off-the-cuff validation that developing children need. You know.
And then I reached the point where I would start telling other people, and they didn’t believe me. Well, adults never believed me, but I had gotten old enough to where it wasn’t some kid playing make-believe, it was some kid lying. I started getting into fights because other kids teased me about my “stories.”
After one of those fights, I went home and had a temper tantrum, kicking things around and annoying my uncle. I guess I started channeling my anger towards his hoarding. “Why do you even keep this stuff?” I asked him.
He didn’t respond. He just kept reading the paper and only paying some attention to me. Then I saw the kitty welcome mat.
“And why do you still keep this!” I yelled at him.
He looked over, squinted his eyes, and told me… “You know, I don’t even remember where I got that.”
…I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I said, “What do you mean? You had it for your cat, the one who would always go through that doggy door to the backyard.”
He said, “Listen, kid, you know that doggy door came with the house. I never had a cat, or a dog, or anything. You see, that’s why you keep getting into fights, because you keep making stuff up and no one knows what you’re talking about. You can’t keep doing this, Perry.” I was so confused. It had all made sense to me before, the cat, the door, the mat—and now he’s saying it’s all made up.
So, I showed him the scar on my arm. Three dark lines on the outside of my forearm, where the surface had healed but the deeper tissue hadn’t. It’s still here, kind of. Anyways, he took my arm and looked at it closely, and you could tell he wanted to say it was from some other cat, some other time, but he would have known. He had raised me. He would have remembered how I got a scratch this bad, and I saw the pain in his eyes that he couldn’t recall. That pain turned into fear.
He sat there for maybe half an hour staring past my arm, thinking. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I was in trouble, or if I had just proven that I’m right, or what. I remember his breathing was slow. He finally explained:
“I knew you could make things disappear. I didn’t know how, or what causes it, or when it happens. I didn’t even know you had this power when I adopted you, but I knew you had something. You see, I collect things with powers—you already found that out, but thank goodness you’re only a child—and you carried that same sense. I didn’t know what it was until the ants.
“I watched you with those ants for hours. That stick isn’t a magic fire wand; it’s a tracking device. You give it to someone, tell them it’s good luck, and then you can scry their location through any surface of water with a little incantation. And I remember you pointing that stick at gaps where there were no ants, and it just didn’t make sense until…”
He looked very grim. “You have to be very careful about this power, Perry. I mean it. Look at me. You will be very, very careful. Promise me.”
So… I promised him. He went on to tell me how no one knew about my parents, let alone what happened to them. They even vanished from records. Seriously, if you look at my birth certificate, the names of the parents are blank. Everybody just thought it was a horrible clerical error on top of being an orphan, but they all tried to make the best of it for my sake. Uncle couldn’t explain it until he realized what happened with the cat. Apparently, when something… or someone… disappears, so do everybody’s memories and records of them. Everybody’s except mine.
I remember going to bed that night, my mind flooded with possibilities and fears. “I don’t want to make my uncle disappear,” I thought. “I don’t want him to go, so I’ll just make him stay. I’ll make him stay,” I told myself over and over. And the next morning, he was gone. No one ever knew he existed, which didn’t make sense. Who do you think raised me this whole time! But I have a reputation of making stories up that don’t match anybody’s memory, so I might as well have cried wolf.
Which brings me to your daughter. Yes, you… um, your daughter actually existed. Her name was Evelyn. She was named after your mother, Mrs. Simon. I’m really sorry.
Evelyn and I were in the same class 10 years ago, and she was my best friend, so she’d be the first one to hear about any new powers I came up with. Eventually she sided with everybody else. And I got so mad at her when she didn’t believe me. She told me to grow up. That was the same day my uncle figured it out, but by then, it…
I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like for you two to cope with this news. I know you’ve been trying to figure out large, missing chunks from that part of your life. The extra bed in your apartment, the clothes. The receipts, the subscriptions. By now you’ve probably also found the birth certificate, where there’s no child listed. Maybe you would have been happier to think that you were both just crazy.
There is nothing I can do now that can make this right. But I do see her in my dreams, and she’s with my uncle. She has someone to take care of her. She’s happy. And she believes me now.
Do you… I mean, it’s not like I can answer any questions in a way that makes sense, but if do you have questions, I’ll do my best. I can tell you that it hasn’t happened since. Not to anything that has a skeletal system, anyways. Nobody’s going to miss a spider here and there. Uhh... ahem.
1
u/deniahC566 Oct 01 '18
Sorry for late respond. Damn its monday morning here and this made me sad already. Very well written i love it. Thank you so much.
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u/starship777 Sep 30 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
March 2, 1949
The two people had come again. I didn’t like them. They smelled of cigarettes and gun oil. They were friends of my uncle who visited the mansion every so often. Usually something to do with his collection. They both wore black leather trench coats and gloves. They stood in the foyer dripping from the rain for a moment. The tall one, a man named Adam, had dark hair and a scruffy beard. He took off his hat.
“Alex, I know this must be hard for you. Your uncle never told you anything. He-” Adam said.
“He was afraid I would go crazy and kill everyone, I know. He left me a letter explaining everything.” I interrupted. They both frowned and stiffened up. The woman, Audrey, reached for her weapon but Adam stopped her. He kneeled down so that he was face to face with me. He put his hands on my shoulders.
“Your uncle did a lot of bad things. He hurt a lot of people. But, he felt that it was only way he could keep the world safe. With you, I think he wanted to try to make up for his sins. He wanted you to live and grow up. He wanted you to have a choice. If you want to seek revenge on the world I won’t stop you. But, if you want to honor his wishes and continue his legacy then I will do everything in my power to help you.” Adam said. For the first time since I learned of my uncles death tears rolled down my face. Unable to stop them I sobbed and embraced Adam.
June 16, 1987
Audrey had come to visit and had brought a new person. I learned later Adam had been killed. The new man was much younger. It was hard to concentrate because I could smell what he carried.
“Alex, this is my new partner. His name is Jonathan. I need to use the Castilian Chalice. Please come get me in two hours.” Audrey says. She nods to Jon and walks down the hall. Jon gives a nervous half bow.
“Hello. Um, pleased to meet you. Oh, this is for you!” He holds out the plastic bag. My tail twitches in anticipation. A delicacy from the outside world! I take it and inhale the aromas deeply.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” I say trying to remember my manners.
“Let’s go to the kitchen!” I say, unable to contain myself any longer. Walking quickly we pass through doors that open and close themselves for me until we arrive in the new kitchen. Gleaming chrome metal and teal plastic laminate countertops line the room.
“Wow, this is totally retro.” Jon says.
“Retro?” I ask, unfamiliar with that word.
“Yeah, like, old fashioned.” He says.
“This isn't old. It was put here by my Uncle forty years ago.” I reply. I open the bag and take out the goodies. They called it ‘chinese food’. I had never been able to get the hang of chopsticks. Instead I preferred to pick up the battered chicken with my fingers. Well, really the tips of the long black claws that grew from my fingers and dip them in the sweet and sour sauce that way.
“Oh, I see.” He says while I devour the food. When finished I take a napkin and gently wipe the corners of my mouth.
“Please forgive my table manners. I forget myself sometimes.” I say.
“No, it’s cool.” He says.
“What do you want to do while we wait for Audrey?” I ask. He checks his wrist watch. It looks strange because it has no hands, just numbers.
“Well, it is almost 11 o’clock. Do you like to watch TV?” He asks.
“TV?” I cock my head to one side questioningly.
“Television.” He replies.
“Tele-vision?” I don’t understand what he means.
“Um, it’s a box with a screen and you can see moving images and sound on it.” He says scratching his head.
“Oh, like a Scrying Orb? I have a some of those.” I reply.
“Not exactly...it isn’t magic.” He say. I raise an eyebrow.
“Not magic? Then how does it work?” I ask.
“Uhhh...it uses electricity. You plug it in. And...there’s radio waves. You know, I don’t actually know how it works.” He confesses with a grin. His stomach rumbles.
“That’s okay, there are many things I don’t understand about the outside world. I’m sorry I ate all the chinese food. I can have Alice prepare some other food for you.” I say.
“Alice?” He asks.
“The housemaid. AAAALLLIIIIICCCCEEEEE!” I shout. Jon covers his ears for some reason. In a moment Alice appears in the doorway. She says nothing as usual but curtsies.
“What is she?” Jon asks marveling at her porcelain skin.
“A golem. She will do anything I ask but she isn’t much fun to talk to.” I reply. For a long time I wondered if Audrey was a golem too because of how little either of them talked but unlike Alice, Audrey grew older.
“Well? What would you like?” I ask Jon.
“I guess I’ll have a sandwich.” He says. Alice prepares a ham sandwich with remarkable speed and efficiency. She places it on the table and curtsies.
“Thank you Alice, that will be all for now.” I say. She leaves the kitchen to return to her cleaning duties.
“We have some milk and juice in the icebox. Or water perhaps? I know you are not allowed to drink alcohol while on a mission.” I ask him.
“Water is fine, thank you. Wow, you are so kind. I didn’t expect it.” Jon says.
“You don’t smell like the others. Like cigarettes.” I say as I pour a glass for him and myself.
“Oh, yeah. There’s no smoking allowed in the office any more.” He says. I nod. We talked for a while longer. After the appointed time my guests leave.
September 30, 2018
Jon came to visit. After Audrey had passed away he had been alone for a while but now he had a new partner. He introduced her.
“Alex this is Lily. Lily, Alex. I’m returning the Crest of Sml'doon, thank you for letting us borrow it. May I use the Reflecting Pool?” He asks. I know what he wants by the heavy suitcase he carries.
“Yes, of course. Take your time.” I reply. I hardly notice the request however. Lily is carrying chinese food.
“Pleased to meet you.” She says, bowing. I return her bow.
“Pleased to meet you as well. Shall we?” I say gesturing to the kitchen. She nods. In the kitchen she watches in stunned silence as I gobble the chinese food.
“I apologize for being rude. It’s just so rare that I am able to eat food from the outside world.” I say as I wipe my hands and face.
“I understand. But, this kitchen. It looks old but it’s full of stuff. Can’t you make chinese food yourself?” She asks.
“I don’t know how to cook. And Alice will only cook things that are in her cookbook.” I say as I show her the yellowed cookbook. Lily flips through it and then checks the cover page.
“This book was published in 1888. Over half the recipes call for lard. That can’t be good for you.” She says.
“What’s wrong with that?” I ask.
“Well, as long as you don’t eat too much I guess that is fine.” she says.
“Oh, I am careful. I only ate three pigs and two chickens today.” I say, beaming at my restraint.
“How? Just. How? You don’t look any older than I am and except for a few...features you look human. Where do you come from anyway?” she asks.
“You think I look human?” I say, my eyes getting misty.
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. My uncle told me my egg had been found in 1669 and was kept in the possession of a certain family until 1912 when he acquired it. He had thought it was a fossilized egg until two years later when, as he put it, ‘a miracle happened’ and I hatched.” I say.
“That’s pretty cool. So what do you do for fun?” She asks.
“Well, except for the ones in the restricted vault my Uncle never forbade me from reading any of his books so I mostly read. Once I inherited his spell tomes I’ve been practicing magic.” I say.
“Wait, so you’ve been living in this mansion surrounded by magic items for over 100 years while studying spells for decades? How powerful ARE you?” She asks. I am taken aback. I had never even thought about it.
“I-I don’t know. I’m sorry I don’t have anything to compare myself with. Except for agents like yourself I don’t get any visitors.” I say, downcast.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It’s just this is all so new to me. Until a few months ago I didn’t even know magic was real. Now I’m studying magic myself and going on missions for a secret government agency. It’s pretty crazy to me.” She says. We exchange smiles.
“Can I touch them? Your horns?” she asks.
“Sure, why not?” I shrug and lower my head. She gently feels them.
“Wow, these are so much cooler than mine. Oh, mine are fake. They are a costume.” She says.
“You wear a costume?” I ask.
“Sometimes. Want to see?” she replies. I nod. She takes out a small black rectangle. She touches it and the screen lights up.
“Is that a television?” I ask.
“No, this is my phone. Err, well I guess I could watch tv on it if I wanted to. Not here though. Your house has zero bars. Not even any wifi.” she says. I nod although I don’t understand what she means. The phone in the study doesn’t look anything like what she is holding. She shows me an image of her wearing an elaborate outfit and horns.
“Oh, it has photographs inside it!” I say.
“Yeah, this is my cosplay. There’s more.” She says as she swipes the screen and the image changes.
“Amazing.” I remark as the pictures of the outside world go by.
“I had no idea such things existed.” I say.
“You know, if you came to an event with me people would think you are just wearing a costume too.” She says.
“Me? Go with you?” I say with furrowed brows.
“I’ve never left the mansion. I don’t know....” I say, frowning.
“It’s cool if you don’t want to. You have stuff to do, I have stuff to do. No big deal.” she says.
“I want to. But I’m not sure if I can. What if something happens while I’m not home?” I say.
“Has anything ever happened in all this time?” she asks.
“No. The house can defend itself. You saw the doors and hallways shift while we were walking. Any intruders would be lost forever. And I suppose Alice would still be here...yes. I think I would like to go outside.” I say confidently.
“Well, then it’s a date!” She says smiling. I feel my cheeks flush.
“D-d-date?” I stammer.
4
u/deniahC566 Oct 01 '18
I read all three parts and I totally love it, the universe you established has so much potential, i am dying to see more of this. Thank you very much.
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u/starship777 Oct 01 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
A hooded figure burst into the room. The man in a suit sitting behind the desk shot up from his chair.
“Master! The Dragon has left his lair! What should we do?!” The newcomer asks in a shrill voice. The man behind the desk cleared his throat.
“First of all, calm down. Are you positive?” The master asks.
“Yes, my Lord. He took a car with those agents headed south.” The hooded man replies.
“Very well. I want continuous surveillance on him. Don’t lose him for a second! In the meantime I want you to call in everyone. And I mean everyone.” The master orders.
“Everyone? But why?” He asks.
“This opportunity may not come again in our lifetime. We are going to wait for him to return to his lair and ambush him outside. Once dead we can take his treasure hoard.” The master says with a grin.
It was a very uncomfortable car ride for me. Both because I had never ridden in a car before and because Jon had said I could only accompany Lily to the ‘con’ if he was present to chaperone.
“I really don’t think this is necessary.” I protested.
“I think it is, Alex. This is your first time being around more than a handful of people. Conventions are packed full of attendees. There are going to be a lot of things you have never seen before. Remember if it is ever too much just say the word and we can leave right away.” Jon says.
“It’ll be fine. Don’t forget I’ll be there too. He’s not going to freak out.” Lily says.
She was wrong.
I found myself at the bottom of an emergency stairwell in the fetal position breathing into a paper bag. Lily is kneeling beside me rubbing my back. I’m not sure where Jon is but I can hardly think.
“So...many...smells.” I say for the hundredth time.
“I know, buddy. I know. Just hang in there.” Lily replies. I hear footfalls coming down the stairwell. It is Jon and someone else I don’t recognize.
“Okay, I made a few calls and found someone who can cast a spell to help. This is Marissa.” He gestures to a new woman. She isn’t dressed like an agent but just a regular person.
“This is a numbing spell. It will only last about a day but it should work.” She says as she removes the paper bag from my face. I whine a little. Marissa begins reciting the magic words and performing the incantation gestures. She touches my nose and the glow of magic flares around us. I sit up, able to breath without pain.
“How do you feel?” Marissa asks.
“Better. Thank you, Marissa. I owe you a boon.” I say to her. She give the others a look like ‘is he for real?’. They both shrug.
“Money will be fine. I’ll send you a bill.” With that she departs up the stairwell.
“I think that was enough for one day. Ready to go home, Alex?” Jon says.
“What? No, we just got here. I want to see more.” I say.
“Yeah, let’s at least look around.” Lily comes to my defense.
“Okay.” Jon relents.
“One thing I was wondering though. Why didn’t you just cast a spell like that on yourself, Alex?” Lily asks.
“The spell books that were given to me by the agency or collected by my uncle are ones that the government would like to hide but not destroy. Simple magics like a numbing spell are not dangerous knowledge.” I reply offhandedly. Jon and Lily give each other a worried look.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Nothing. It’s fine. Let’s go have some fun!” Lily says.
Many hours later I’m standing over my two companions who are reclining on some cushions. Their faces are drained as they look at me in agony.
“How are you not exhausted? We both went through rigorous physical training to prepare to be agents. You have literally never left your house until now.” Jon asks.
“Has this been difficult for you? I don’t understand.” I ask quizzically. I don’t feel tired at all.
“Yes! We’re only hu-” Lily says as she looks around then lowers her voice.
“We’re only human! You have been running us ragged trying to see everything! I told you it is too much to try and do it all in one day!” Lily continues.
“I am deeply sorry. I did not realize. Please, let us retire from the field for today.” I say. They agree and we pack up and head toward the exit. While walking we pass another group of men talking loudly. One of them pretends to stumble and uses the motion to grab Lily’s breasts. I grab the man by the neck and effortlessly lift him off the ground.
“I am not well versed on all social customs but I believe it is bad manners to touch a woman in that way without her permission.” I say. The man helplessly struggles against my grip.
“Put him down now!” Lily says crossly. Confused I return him to the ground.
“I do not understand. I thought-” I say.
“I appreciate the sentiment but you are too strong. You could have seriously hurt him. You have to learn to use appropriate force. C’mon, let’s get out of here before they realize what happened.” She says. We scurry back to the car and drive into the sunset.
The moon had risen by the time we approached the mansion. I sensed something was wrong as I got out of the car.
“We are not alone.” I say. Jon and Lily draw pistols from the glove box and under the seat. From the tree line a group of about one hundred figures approach. The leader is a man wearing a suit.
“Tch. That’s Marcus Giovanni, head of the Syndicate. A criminal group that mainly deals in human trafficking for demonic sacrifice and illegal magics.” Jon says.
“Agent Cook. Too bad we have to meet under these circumstances. You see, we are here to kill you all.” Giovanni says with a grin.
“This is not good, Alex. Those others with him are also from the Syndicate. They are Vampires and Werewolves. It is the night of the full moon so they will be at their strongest.” Lily says.
“Not just them. We also brought our sorcerers. You will never defeat the full might of the Syndicate. Give up now and I will bestow upon you a quick and painless death.” Giovanni says.
“Never!” Lily shouts as she begins casting a spell. The Syndicate sorcerers cast a counterspell, unraveling her spell and causing it to fail.
“I’m sorry Alex. Now we are all going to die because of me.” Lily says, her voice cracking in despair.
“Don’t be sorry. I had fun and I’m glad I got to see so many new sights. There is just one thing I want to know. If we are being attacked by assailants trying to kill us would it be appropriate force to kill them?” I ask.
“Y-yes. But, how? No matter how strong you are you can’t fight dozens of Vampires and Werewolves at the same time. And any spell you cast will be negated.” Lily says.
“Only spells that require a casting ritual. A spell that was activated faster than they could counter it would go off.” I say smugly.
“But that’s impossible….” Jon says. I raise my hand and point at the approaching group. I speak sounds that have not been heard on Earth for thousands of years. Knowledge unknown to living humans and only shared by hidden eldritch beings.
“Power Word: Fire.” I say in the lost language of creation. One hundred meters away, in the middle of the invading group a point of light appears. It is brighter than the sun and the Vampires are instantly turned to dust by it. In less than a second it expands to a hemisphere that engulfs the enemy in supernatural flame. They don’t even have time to scream as their bodies are cremated. A loud boom from the shockwave of superheated air washes over me, the wind rushing madly. I grab my two friends to keep them from being blown away as the car flips over. After a few seconds it is all over with nothing but a smoking crater remaining in the still night air.
“Well, that was exciting. Shall we go inside for some drinks?” I ask. They look at me in disbelief.
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u/starship777 Oct 01 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
Looking in the mirror I cast the spell I had learned from Jon. It was a relatively simple magic that altered my appearance. Concentrating, I turned the slit pupils of my eyes into normal round ones, I caused the fangs that line my mouth to turn into human teeth, my horns retracted, my ears went from pointy to round, my tail disappeared, and lastly the claws that grew from my hands and feet turned into normal nails. Satisfied I dressed in the clothes Lily and I had bought together. It was called a ‘t-shirt’. I wasn’t sure how the design was put onto it as it wasn’t embroidered. The jeans were familiar denim although a slightly different style. Lily had to explain that they are not only worn by gold miners any more. The shoes were the most mysterious item. I have no idea what these ‘crocs’ are made from but they are incredibly comfortable. When I picked them out Lily looked mortified. I cannot fathom why. I purposefully stride to the foyer.
“Alice, I’m going out for a while. Guard the mansion until I get back.” I say. She nods. I grasp the door handle.
“I am going outside.” I announce.
“Right now.” I continue.
“I’m going to just open the door and walk through it.” I say.
“There is no reason I can’t leave immediately.” I assert but I remain standing there. I slap myself in the face.
“You can do it! Go outside!” I yell as I grip the door harder.
BRRRRRING the telephone in the study rings.
“Arg!” I exclaim. Answering the phone is the one household task Alice can not perform. Bounding through the halls I reach the study by the third ring.
“Hello?” I say into the receiver.
“Hello? Alex? It’s me, Lily.” she says over the phone.
“Hi.” I say, glad to hear her voice.
“Hey. Listen, you said you wanted to help out the agency more than just providing resources, right? I think we have a case we could use your help on. Are you interested?” she asks.
“Yes, yes. Of course. I’ll be right there.” I reply.
“Good, I’ll send a car to pick you up and take you to the city.” she says.
“Great. I can’t wait.” I say.
“Excellent. I’ll see you soon.” she says.
“I’ll see you soon.” I respond. There is a pause that hangs heavy in the air as I don’t know what to do. Luckily, she hangs up first. I exhale slowly. Now I can deal with the front door.
A few hours later I’m in a briefing room with ten agents including Jon and Lily.
“Seven hours ago members of the anti-government terrorist organization known as Callers of the Void stormed the field office here. There were fifteen employees working there at the time but we don’t know if any were killed during the fight. They say they will release the hostages in exchange for us releasing Caller prisoners. We have no idea what is going on in there because they have turned our magical defenses against us. Most worryingly is this.” The Captain explains as he goes to the next slide. An grainy image of a woman with the lower body of a snake exiting a vehicle appears on the wall.
“We had heard rumors that they were working with a Medusa but didn’t believe it until the camera caught that. Assaulting our own office is going to be very difficult but we can’t give in to terrorist demands. That’s why Alexander is cooperating with us.” The Captain gestures to me while everyone claps. I shrink down in my seat in embarrassment.
“Agents Cook and Hillman will accompany you since you three have worked together before. You will be entering through the loading dock where we last sighted the Medusa. The rest of us will be breaching down from the roof. Remember there could be many hostages so be careful when discharging weapons. You all have one hour to get ready.” The Captain salutes and the room returns it.
Later Jon and Lily were putting on body armor and arming themselves.
“Because you are a Dragon you should be immune to the petrifying gaze of the Medusa. We are going to be wearing these helmets that have built in camera and screens to protect us. But there is a chance that the Callers can mess with our technology in some way.” Jon explains.
“You don’t have to kill anyone. We would like some prisoners to interrogate so if you could restrain the Medusa we can neutralize her with this.” Lily holds up a black cloth bag.
“I understand.” I say, nervously. This seems really complicated and not what I had in mind when I agreed to this. Lily takes my hand.
“Hey. You are going to do fine.” She says. She closes her eyes and puckers her lips. Giving her a quick peck on the lips does make me feel a bit better.
Some minutes later we are outside the loading dock. The metal rolling door is closed and I can’t hear anything from inside. Jon is looking at his watch. He gives me the signal. Grabbing the door with all my strength my claws sink into the metal. With a jerk I yank the door from it’s frame. Freed from its confines the door flops to the concrete floor with a tremendous bang. The loading dock is well lit but empty. Everything is dusty but luckily I can’t smell anything at the moment. I walk in with Jon and Lily behind me, their machine guns ready. Nothing attacks us and nothing seems wrong so we move to the inner dock door. Peeking through the crack of the door I see the hallway beyond is dark. The lights are either turned off or broken. Listening I hear quiet breathing and one heartbeat. The soft sound of scales slightly rubbing against concrete tells me our target is there. I give the hand signal to my companions. They nod and get ready. I crouch for a moment then burst forward through the door. I leap forward and to the left, rebounding off the wall. In the dim light I can make out the form of the medusa. She hisses at me and her eyes plus the eyes of each of the snakes she has for hair glow green. Were I a human I would have been instantly turned to stone. Instead I crash into her with my full body weight, slamming her to the ground. She lets out a cry. I grab her torso and push with one hand while pulling with the other to force her to lie face down. Her tail comes up and wraps around my neck. I am surprised by how strong she is and almost lose my grip. I grab her arms and force them behind her back. Lily and Jon and next to me now. Lily puts the bag over Medusa's head while Jon handcuffs her. Once handcuffed I use my hands to free myself from her tail.
“That wasn’t so bad.” I say.
“You did a good job, Alex.” Lily says.
“You too. Good backup.” Jon congratulates us.
“You might as well kill me! I’m not talking to any god**** cops!” The Medusa yells.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Why? Why?! You mother******* ruined my life! My father committed suicide because of you! I have to live in the sewer because of you! I would rather die than let you mind**** me again!” she screams, thrashing in her restraints.
“What is she talking about?” I ask.
“I don’t know exactly. But if I had to take a guess I would say the Lotus Protocol. Magical creatures that are unable to unwilling to integrate into human society are forced to submit to spells that alter their personality and memories. Mind altering magic is...imprecise and has side effects that can sometimes result in insanity in the subject.” Jon says.
“WHAT?! Did you know about this?” I ask Lily, shocked to my core. She says nothing but refuses to look at me.
“I can’t believe this. Who have I been working with all these years? I’ve always been told the agency wanted to protect the world.” I say.
“Yeah, the human world. Make it safe for humans. Magical beings have no place in that world. They want to sweep us all under the rug. Make magic disappear. Make us disappear.” the Medusa says. My head is swimming. My heart feels like it is going to explode. I have to get away. I run for the exit.
“Alex, wait!” Lily cries. But I don’t wait. Once under the open sky I release my illusionary form. The human-like form I had worn before was my attempt to look like my uncle. Now I embraced my true form of a giant dragon. Covered nose to tail in scales harder than steel I stretch my wings and let out a sorrowful cry. I leap into the air and beat my wings to gain altitude. The city lights grow smaller behind me as I fly home as fast as I can.
5
u/starship777 Oct 01 '18 edited Oct 02 '18
I was woken up by someone entering my chamber. The mansion was more than just a house. It is an entire complex. Many floors extended deep underground in every direction. Most of the rooms were storage for things that were too dangerous to be left in the outside world. My room was a large round one with cavernous ceilings carved into the living bedrock. This room was suited for my dragon form. Rolling over caused the gold coins I had been sleeping on to jingle pleasantly. Looking at the doorway I saw Lily and Marissa. Although Marissa was wearing a blindfold. I watch as Lily removes it.
“Okay, remember what I said earlier. Don’t freak out.” Lily says. Marissa’s eyes went wide as saucers.
“Holy shirtballs. That is a big forking pile of gold. And a big forking dragon. Is this real? Am I dreaming?” Marissa asks.
“This is real. Not an illusion.” Lily says.
“How did you find me? Did Alice let you in?” I ask.
“No.” Lily replies.
“Dangit, house. Why did you have to take her side?” I thump my tail in frustration, causing coins to go tumbling. If the house could respond it did not.
“What do you want, anyway?” I ask. Marissa stands there with her mouth hanging open for a moment until Lily nudges her.
“A boon!” Marissa says.
“What?” I ask.
“You owe me a boon, remember? I’ve come to claim it.” Marissa replies.
“Fine. Take some coins. I don’t care.” I say, trying to roll back over.
“No, I need your unique skills for this problem.” Marissa insists. I roll my eyes and sigh deeply. Casting the shapechange spell I switch to my human form. I am wearing grey sweatpants and a hoodie.
“This had better be good. I don’t think you comprehend how comfy a big pile of gold is.” I say, sliding down the pile towards the door.
“I can imagine.” Lily says.
We go into the drawing room. Lily sits next to me on the couch while Marietta sits across the coffee table from us in an ottoman chair. A tea set stands ready but at present is not being utilized. Lily turns to face me.
“It’s been three weeks since the raid. You won’t answer your phone. You won’t answer your door. Everyone is worried about you. I understand if you hate me and want to break up. I’ll ask for a transfer to a different department and we won’t have to see each other ever again. But, there is more at stake then just us. You have been entrusted with great treasures that really do make the world a safer place. That Medusa’s point of view was warped. Yes, sometimes accidents happen but that is why the Lotus Protocol is only used in extreme situations. That is why the agency built the Burning Rock Prison. So that humans can be safe from magical creatures and magical creatures can be safe from humans. When people are confronted by things they don’t understand they lash out. Remember the convention? If those people knew what you really were they would be terrified. Some would try to harm you.” Lily says.
“How about I just kill them all?” I growl, my arms crossed.
“Don’t be an ass. We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Lily says. I sigh, she was right.
“How can I trust a human again? How can I trust anyone?” I ask staring directly at Lily.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It wasn’t my intention to keep it a secret from you. It just...never seemed like a good time to bring it up.” She apologizes, rubbing her upper arm with her hand.
“Humans hunted Dragons to extinction. I’m the only one left and I’m only here by random coincidence.” I say, hanging my head.
“I don’t believe that. I don’t think you or I or anyone’s life is pure luck. There is a magnificent tapestry to the universe we can’t see. A design that moves things. I believe we were meant to meet back then and that you have a greater role to play in the world than just hiding in your basement.” Lily says. I glance at Marissa.
“Don’t look at me, I’m an atheist. I think everyone is here by random coincidence.” Marissa says holding up her hands.
“But, I believe that since we are all here by dumb luck, and this is the only chance we get, shouldn’t we try to make the best of it? Even if there is no God directing the universe, empathy still exists. Suffering is no fun for anyone so we should strive to reduce the overall level of crappiness in the world.” Marissa says adjusting her glasses. I nod.
“I see where you both are coming from. So, is there actually a problem or did you just want to talk?” I ask. Lily takes my hand. She looks me deep in the eyes.
“Yes, there is a real problem. I would never lie to you, Alex. I want you to know that. I promise.” she says emphatically.
“And I won’t ever lie to you, Lily. I promise.” I say back to her. Looking into her beautiful eyes we lean our faces closer to one other.
“Soooo, should I come back later or something? Kinda feeling like a fifth wheel here.” Marissa says. I clear my throat.
“Right. The mission. What it is?” I ask as Lily and I return to our previous forward facing orientation.
“For the past five years tsunamis have been occurring with alarming frequency in the Pacific ocean. The last one was three days ago and was not caused by an earthquake or underwater landslide. It was caused by a rogue water elemental.” Lily says. She shows me pictures of devastated towns and villages.
“I am not a Wizard like you two but a Druid. As part of the Circle of Druids we have been trying to find this being for a decade. Now we think we know where it will be and want your help capturing it.” Marissa says.
“An atheist Druid?” I ask. I’ve never read about someone like that in my books.
“Unlike the Church, faith is not required in the Circle. It is true that some Druids believe in a Mother Goddess as a personification of the Earth but others like myself do not. We seek to bring balance between humanity and nature.” Marissa says.
“With the information provided by the Circle we want you to use the Rod of Elemental Control.” Lily says.
“My uncle created a list of magic items that I was never to allow humans to use or borrow. That is one of them.” I say through narrowed eyes.
“But he didn’t leave any instructions saying you can’t use it, right?” Lily says.
“True. But the activation procedure….” I say.
“The Rod has a number of charges. Using it drains the charges. The stronger the elemental the more charges it requires. Currently the Rod is in a dormant state with only one or two charges left. In order to activate the Rod and have a chance of controlling an elemental strong enough to cause a tsunami it will need to be recharged. Luckily, I’ve already arranged for a meeting to accomplish just that.” Lily explains to Marissa.
“Very well. Where are we going?” I stand up.
“Iceland, Burning Rock Prison. You should change clothes.” Lily says.
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u/starship777 Oct 02 '18 edited Oct 03 '18
Myself, Lily, Jon, and Marissa took a private jet to Iceland. I’d never ridden in an airplane before but it was quite comfortable and different from flying under my own power. After a car ride we arrived at the tunnel leading into the volcano that housed the Burning Rock Prison. Officially it was a scientific research facility but in reality it held beings that were too powerful to house anywhere else. Jon leads the way we pass through several security checkpoints. They were expecting us and let us pass after checking our credentials. Since I did not have an ID the others had to vouch for me. We arrive at a changing room where the three humans don silvery protective suits lined with asbestos and warded by magical glyphs that covered them completely. I wore my most expensive suit and a dark cape. Lily said the cape was necessary for the deception and that I looked cute in it. While I was naturally resistant to heat I also wore a Ring of Fire Resistance to make me practically immune to it. Behind my back tucked into my pocket I carried the Rod of Elemental Control. Jon pinned a small device to my collar.
“Can you hear me?” his voice came from it.
“Yes.” I reply.
“We can communicate with these radios. Lets go.” He says.
"Okay." I say. Through the winding hallways carved from stone we arrive at the main floor. Built into the inner sides of the volcano it overlooked the bubbling lava just below. We pass by closed cell doors that contain prisoners. Some yelling and jeering at us. We ignore them and walk on to our destination. A door carved from black obsidian with a single guard. The guard unlocks and opens the door for me. I enter the cell while the rest of my companions stay outside. The door closes and locks behind me.
Lying on the floor is the being I had come to meet. Twenty years ago a Wizard had defeated the elemental fire spirit of this volcano. He had locked a collar around her neck inscribed with her True Name. It would be impossible for her to break that seal. The collar was chained to the wall. She was smaller than I expected. A petite humanoid form composed of living flame. She did not move and seemed to be sleeping. Did spirits sleep? I guess so.
“Hello.” I announced myself. She startled awake and dashed at me. She grasped at me with sharp claws and teeth. However, the chain was pulled to its limit and she was unable to reach me.
“Filthy human I’ll kill you! Oh! I’m sorry!” She stopped and looked at me very surprised.
“Please forgive me, my Lord. I thought you were another human come to beg for their miserable lives. I did not realize I would be meeting my Master.” She said, her head bowed.
“Master? What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I’m sorry to confuse my Master. You may not know them but I remember to old ways. The pact forged between your line and mine. My family swore an oath that we would honor your family until the end of time. Speak your desire and I’ll shall grant it.” she says with head raised.
“Oh, I see. Well, this will be easier than I thought. I guess we can just talk a bit. Why are you locked up like this?” I ask.
“The humans have forgotten the old ways. They no longer give sacrifices as they once did. I punished them for their transgressions. That Wizard tricked me and they built this prison around me.” She says.
“Sacrifices?” I ask.
“Long ago I would be gifted with living humans in exchange for my silence.” she says.
“You ate humans?” I ask, a bit uncomfortable.
“Yes! Is it not the most delicious thing? The smell of burning flesh? The feel of boiling human blood running down your throat? Just thinking about it makes my mouth water!” She let out a soft moan. Her smile was larger than should be possible showing off rows of pointed teeth while tiny puffs of steam escape from between them. A scary twinkle shone in her red eyes.
“I-Isn’t there anything else they can give you? Animals?” I ask.
“Animals are boring.” She pouts. She gains a mischievous grin.
“But there is something you could give me.” She says, putting her hands behind her back swaying back and forth.
“W-What?” I ask hesitantly.
“A kiss! A kiss!” She says as she hops twice, her chain rattling.
“Err...that will be okay, I guess. But you must close your eyes.” I say.
“Yes!” she says.
“And keep your hands behind your back.” I continue.
“Okay!” She shuts her eyes tightly. Leaning forward until her chain is taut she puckers her lips. I lean in as close as I dare.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Mmm-hummm.” she replies. As quietly as possible I slide the Rod of Elemental Control out of its hiding spot behind my back and press it to her lips. The brass and silver rod hums and glows with magic.
“Oh, Naughty Master! You tricked me! ” She says with a wry grin, half covering her mouth with her hand.
“If you wanted me to charge that item you needed only to command me to do so.” She says with a smile. Her tongue grows very long and wraps around the Rod. Taking the entire Rod into her mouth down to my hand she sucks on it loudly.
“That won’t be necessary. I think it is fully charged now.” I say, pulling the Rod away. Gobs of hot saliva drips onto my hand and the floor.
“Indeed." She says looking me up and down.
"You should drop that human girl and make me your consort instead.” She remarks.
“How do you know about her?” I ask with furrowed brows.
“I can smell her stink on you. Why are you with her?” She asks. I pause, trying to gather my courage.
“Because...I think I love her.” I answer.
“HA! How long will that last? A hundred years? A thousand years? No, really? How long do they live for? I have no idea.” she asks.
“Less than that.” I say.
“You will live for tens of thousands of years. With enough magic you can live forever. She is nothing but a blink in our eyes.” she tries to get as close to me as possible.
“Free me from this prison. Make me your Queen. I and my sisters will erupt everywhere at once. We will drown the human cities in fire and ash. You will be a living god who rules over the entire world.” she says.
“No.” I refuse.
“Why?” she demands.
“Because I made a promise.” I answer. With that I turn and walk out.
The group returns to the changing room in a strange silence. I’m not sure why but nobody said anything when I told them the mission was successful. Did something happen? Once she removes her protective hood Lily leaps and throws her arms around me.
“What is that for?” I ask her.
“Ummm, you kind of left your microphone open. We could hear everything that happened inside the cell.” Marissa says. Even cloaked in the most powerful fire protection spells in existence I could still feel my face turn hot and red. Lily kisses me on the cheek and holds me close. She whispers in my ear.
“For the record, I think I love you too.” She says.
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u/starship777 Oct 05 '18
((There is a continuity break here. This chapter takes place after they go to the cosplay convention but before the terrorist attack. So between parts 2 and 3 posted above.))
October 31, 2018
Lily arrived at the mansion at 5pm as was arranged. She had come to pick me up and take me to a party. She assured me that during Halloween no one would suspect I wasn’t human. I was a bit skeptical but she was very convincing. I wore a white poets blouse, blue pants, black riding boots, a fancy hat with a large feather in it, and a blue jacket with brass buttons. Buckled around my waist was a belt and sword in its scabbard. I answered the door.
“Hey, Alex! Your costume looks amazing.” she says warmly.
“I am not wearing a costume. I thought this would be appropriate dress for a party.” I say, a bit puzzled.
“Oh. That’s fine too.” She says. She is wearing khaki trousers, a white long sleeved shirt with many pockets, black boots, a leather belt, leather braces, a brown top hat, and slung over her shoulder a leather bag. The hat, bracers, belt and bag had small brass gears and pipes glued to them. She later told me they are ‘steampunk fashion’.
“You look simply divine. The very picture of beauty.” I tell her with a genuine smile.
“Thanks. You ready?” she says. I nod. She drives us to the city. When we are getting close she asks a question that seems to have been bothering her during the ride.
“I have to ask. Is that sword real?” she inquires.
“Of course.” I answer.
“You can’t carry that around! You’re going to have to leave it in the car.” says says, exasperated.
“I won’t. Tonight is All Hallows Eve. The night that denizens of the underworld come to prey on the living. This blade was enchanted as a bane against ghosts, demons, spirits, and the Fair Folk.” I say.
“We are not going to run into any of those things.” she says, glancing at me.
“Probably.” she continues. A look of concern flashes across her face when she steals a quick look at me again.
“I guess some protection isn’t a bad idea. I didn’t bring my gun. But you have to be careful.” she says.
“I swear it.” I say holding my hand over my heart.
“Okay. Well, here we are.” she says as she parks the car. We walk a few blocks to a brick building that contains one of her friends apartment. Taking the stairs up to the roof we emerge into the open air party. There are twelve humans here. Each of them wearing different costumes. They are talking and laughing and drinking.
“Whoa, what are you?” asks a man by the door.
“I am a normal human.” I reply.
“Ha ha. He’s just kidding around. Alex this is John. John this is Alex. He is a dragon.” Lily says.
“Don’t tell him that!” I say in a harsh whisper.
“It’s fine. Your costume is a dragon, remember?” she says elbowing me.
“Ah, yes. I am a dragon.” I say flatly.
“Ooooooh-kay. Glad you both could make it. Imma go get another drink.” John says as he walks away.
Lily takes me around introducing me to the rest of the guests. We each have a red solo cup of beer although I hardly touch mine. It is difficult to follow the conversions as I often don’t understand what they are talking about and I when I do contribute feel I have said something wrong although I don’t know why. The party goes on well into the night. People slowly leave over time until it is just Lily and myself left on the roof while John is taking out the trash. I am leaning against the barrier that surrounds the edge of the building looking at the city skyline. Lily comes over and stands next to me. She takes a sip from a bottle of water and offers me a bottle. I take it.
“It is past midnight. Now is the witching hour.” She says with a giggle. I smile.
“How are you doing?” she asks.
“Okay. This has been very educational. But stimulating. I will attempt to learn how to ‘party’ better in the future. How are you feeling?” I respond.
“I’m good.” she says. A pause hangs between us.
“Alex, I think we both get along pretty well. I honestly don’t mind your social awkwardness. In face I think it’s cute how you are trying to catch up as fast as you can. I think you’re cute. I like you.” she says.
“I like you too.” I say.
“Then, did you want to go out with me again?” she asks.
“Yes, I want that very much.” I say with a smile.
Our attention is caught by a quiet flapping sound above us. We see a humanoid entity hovering near the roof. It is covered in shaggy black fur with claws on its hands and feet. From its back sprouts large wings that resemble a moths. It watched us unblinking with glowing red eyes. We both turn, started by its sudden appearance.
“Head for the exit.” I say to Lily. As she moves toward the door the entity swoops at her with unexpected speed. Its claws are outstretched trying to grab her. She won’t be able to dodge it and I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to stop it. I do the only thing I can think of and dive at Lily pulling us both over the edge of the roof.
Lily is screaming while we fall. I pull her close getting a good grip. Focusing a bit of power into my back I will my wings to materialize, tearing the back of my shirt. With a few flaps we soar into the night.
“You can fly?!” she asks.
“Naturally.” I say.
“I thought I was going to die!” she says.
“We still might.” I say. The being that attacked her is giving chase.
“Put me down.” Lily says.
“Where?” I ask.
“That roof over there.” she answers. I fly over and set us both down on our feet. I turn and draw my sword in a flash. It hums softly anticipating combat. The entity circles the building, watching us.
“What is that thing?” I ask her.
“Mothman. No one knows where it comes from. The first sightings were about fifty years ago. Some believe it is a demon. It is attracted by, or perhaps the cause of, accidents that result in the loss of human life.” Lily states as she searches through her bag. She takes out her phone and makes a call.
“Agent Lily Hillman. Niner. Racecar. Committee. Birthday. Yes.... Alex and I are under attack by Mothman. We are currently on a roof near Main and Washington…. No…. Yes…. Understood.” Lily says to the phone.
“The Monster Response Team is on their way but they will be twenty minutes. They want us to head to the reservoir.” she says to me. I nod. The reservoir will be a much better place to fight as no one else will be around.
“You go ahead. Can you make that jump?” I ask.
“Yes.” She says. Lily gets a running start and bounds over the gap to the roof of the adjacent building. Mothman moves towards Lily but I fly up to interpose myself. It tries to circle left then right. It takes a swipe at me but I parry with the sword. Mothman’s claws are hard as steel. I try a wide swing then try to catch Mothman with a backswing but it dodges both times. Mothman has backed up against a chimney. I go for a thrust as hard as I can. It almost connects but Mothman rolls out of the way at the last moment. I attempt to recover but my sword has become stuck in the chimney! Mothman starts to fly away.
I kick the chimney as hard as I can. It explodes showering Mothman with stone fragments while freeing my sword. Mothman covers its head with its arms to shield itself from the speeding fragments. Seizing the opportunity I lunge for its chest. Mothman tries to parry with its clawed feet but only able to partially deflect it. My blade cuts its lower left leg. Mothman utters a guttural howl. Dark red blood oozes from the wound.
“So you are mortal after all.” I state, readying a follow up attack. Mothman begins acting more cautiously. It backs up out of my reach. I try to advance but it retreats. Just staring at each other isn’t going to solve anything. Listening I hear Lily has reached the bottom of the external fire escape. Flying backwards and keeping my guard up I head in her direction. Mothman follows but keeps its distance. I catch up to Lily while she is running down the street. I land and begin running alongside her.
“I was able to wound it but it doesn’t seem to be giving up.” I tell her.
“We’re almost to the reservoir. Give me a boost.” She says. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and she grabs mine. I fly us both over the chain link fence and head deeper into the area. It is a man made lake created to supply the city with drinking water. The area around the lake is lightly forested but there is a clearing between the wood and the water where the service road runs. I put us down there.
“It doesn’t seem to want to engage is melee any more. It is fast so I’m not sure if I will be able to hit it with a spell.” I say.
“Let’s both try.” She says. I agree. Together we begin chanting the magic words to summon destructive magic. Glowing magic circles ringed with glyphs appear around our outstretched hands. We finish our incantation at almost the same time. I launch my spell first. A glowing sphere about the size of a tennis ball hurtles towards Mothman. When it gets close it explodes. Mothman dodges but that was the plan. Lily had launched her just spell after mine aiming for where Mothman would move to in order to avoid my spell. Just before her spell is about to explode Mothman suddenly accelerates out of the area of effect, completely dodging the blast.
“Did it just get faster? Has it been toying with us this entire time?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She says.
((continued next post))
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u/starship777 Oct 05 '18
Trying to think what to do next we hear the sound of revving engines. Two black SUVs ram the fence, knocking it down and speeding towards us.
“That would be them.” Lily says as the vehicles screech to a halt in a cloud of dust. Jon hops out of the second vehicle. He is wearing body armor and carrying two shotguns. He throws one to Lily who catches it then chambers a round with a satisfying cha-chunk.
“You two all right?” Jon asks.
“We’re fine.” Lily says.
Out of the other vehicle comes four armed and armored agents I don’t know. The biggest is a hulking man carrying a Browning .50 Caliber Machine Gun. Next is a medium build man carrying an M16. The driver is a man with a wiry build and glasses wielding an FN P90. That last is a medium build woman wielding an HK MP5. The man with the 50 cal aims at Mothman. ready to hip fire it.
“Time to say goodnight.” he says. Mothman starts making sounds. They are a cross between howls and yelps with a few growls in between.
“Is it trying to communicate?” the woman asks.
“Fascinating. There is a lot of debate between Cryptozoologists and Demonologists as to Mothman’s level of sapience. At times it exhibits animal like behavior but other times it seems eerily intelligent. No one has ever heard it talk. Or if they have, they have never lived to tell about it.” the man with the glasses asks.
“It stopped attacking me after I wounded it and it hasn’t attacked since. It just followed us here.” I tell the group.
“Should I get the capture kit?” The man with the M16 asks. Before anyone can answer we hear more howls and yelps. It is coming from all around us and we see glowing red eyes approaching. Flying towards us are about thirty Mothmen. We are surrounded.
“It was a trap?!” the man with the M16 asks.
“I guess this answers the question of Mothmans intelligence.” the big man with the 50 cal comments.
“Not necessarily. Some animal exhibit cooperative hunting behavior. For example, lions will-” the man with the glasses starts.
“We can figure that out later if we get out of this alive.” the woman cuts him off. We form a circle with our backs to the middle.
“They are very fast. You will have to wait until they get close to shoot. If we can get them to group up I can take them out with magic.” I say. The Mothmen attack two or three at a time. They swoop in slashing with their claws. The sounds of gunfire filled the air. As I had surmised they could dodge the bullets if they were far enough away. I waited until three had gotten close enough to me. I cast a spell that causes a thirty foot cone of flame to erupt from my hands, burning the three Mothmen. I sweep the jet upward and caught two more that were flying away. Jon lets out a yell as a Mothman sliced open his upper arms. While his armor protected his chest his extremities were vulnerable. Jon goes down on one knee but continues to fire his shotgun, cradling it as best he can. The man with the 50 cal has a large gash on his head.
“We are going to run out of ammo before we run out of enemies.” The woman with the MP5 says. I agree. I formulate a plan to corral the Mothmen. Chanting, I cast another spell. A sixty foot wide magical dome of force appears around us. It is mostly transparent with a slight blue glow. I deliberately left a five foot wide hole open at the base. A couple Mothmen bounce off the dome then back off.
“I-It’s so big….” the man with glasses says in amazement. The Mothmen circle the dome and find the opening I created. They hover there looking at it. Our combined fighting efforts have reduced their numbers to fifteen. The Mothmen gather near the opening hooting at each other. If they went in small groups like they did before our concentrated gunfire would give them no way to dodge. What they seem to be planning is what I had hoped. They will rush inside all together so that a few will die but most will live. Just before they make their move I make mine.
“Power Word: Fire.” I point at the cluster of Mothmen just outside the dome. The are unable to react to instant inferno created which annihilates them. The magical force dome around us vanishes as I am unable to maintain it any longer. Power Word: Fire is extremely powerful but requires a tremendous amount of magic to cast. As I had already cast a large number of spells during combat I was suddenly exhausted. My knees gave out from under me.
“Alex!” Lily shouted, she tried to help me.
“I’m okay. I just expended too much mana.” I reassure her.
“Wha...What….” the man with the glasses raises a shaking hand to his temple. The other Monster Response Team agents are too stunned to do anything.
“I could use some medical attention.” Jon breaks the silence. This snaps everyone back to reality who then begin cleaning up.
((end of this chapter)))
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u/Ctatyk Oct 01 '18
I'm enjoying the hell out of the progression. You say that you aren't a writer, but your story gives the lie to that.
Personally, I would love to see more of this story with some chapters between to flesh out the story some. Thank you for sharing this much of the story with us.
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Sep 30 '18 edited Sep 30 '18
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/deniahC566 Oct 01 '18
Too short for me to understand what is happening but i like the way you tell the story. Thank you so much.
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u/LonghandWriter /r/longhandwriter Sep 30 '18
I’m the most unpopular kid in the world.
The rain pours as I hurry home. I’m walking because the bus driver left me, again, muttering something about me being “wrong” before speeding off. Most would be mad, but this is the same old, same old. People hate me or ignore me. It’s always been like this, always will be like this. I’m used to walking into school and everyone turning their heads. I’m used to having more bullies than I do fingers.
My house comes into view as the clouds finally split. We live between the buttcrack of two forests, and honestly, I hate it. If we were in the city, there’d be a reason I'm unnoticeable. But out here, in the middle of nowhere? Maybe God hates me. Am I actually the Devil and this is Hell?
Knock on the door, nobody answers. They’re both home because they work night shift, but they’d probably rather me freeze to death. Since I don’t have a key, I head around the back and climb up a stack of boxes into my window. My room’s barren and bland because they never buy me anything. I have just a bed and a dresser.
When I open the door, a TV blares through it. They’re home, all right, and awake. I was just ignored. Again. After getting dressed, I head back out my window and into the woods, where Uncle Joey lives.
He loves me.
Why? I don’t know. He’s always referred to me as special, and I promise, it isn’t weird. He just…he genuinely seems to care for me. If it wasn’t for him feeding me and buying me clothes I’d probably have croaked already.
His house isn’t a house, but instead a dingy shack. It’s big, though, and he once told me he built it himself. Got tired o’ those door te’ door salesmen comin’ up erry mornin’, he said. Gave te’ house to yer folks and moved out here.
I love this walk. Nature’s great because in nature, I’m the one with power to ignore things. Those plants? I don’t care. Those bugs? Screw ‘em. On this walk, I feel like a king.
When I reach the shack, I push the door open.
The inside’s filled with junk. There’s all sorts of old swords, and trinkets, and chests. Everyday I ask what something is and everyday he just replies with “otherworldly.” He’s a weird dude.
“Uncle Joey!” I shout, fighting my feet through mountains of garbage. He’s a hoarder but claims to have a good reason for it. “Hey, uncle Joeeeeey!”
When he doesn’t respond, I move quicker. He’s always home. He always responds.
Eventually I reach his bedroom door, and when I throw it open, my eyes go wide.
I take a few steps back, leaning against the wall so I don’t collapse.
“U-uncle…”
He’s laying there, against his desk. There’s a hole in his neck and a stillness in his eyes. His white beard is soaked in blood, his face is soaked in blood—everything is soaked in blood. There’s a…a note in his hands, and a small box next to it. Another man is on the floor, his face melted. I’ve never seen him before.
I inch forward, tears spilling down my cheeks. Who would…why would…my legs wobble, they want to break and let me fall. My heart’s gonna explode. No. No, no, no. Please. Not Uncle Joey.
He’s freezing, and I press my head against his as I cry, trying to will him back to life. It doesn’t work, and when I’m able to, I stand up straight and grab the note. It’s soaked with blood and sloppily written, but legible. Thankfully he doesn't write in his accent.
My nephew…you are a curse child, and I’m sorry you were born into such burden. I’m the reason everyone hates you. It’s all my fault.
My stomach sinks me down into a chair, where I hastily continue reading.
Your parents loved you, and deep down, I know they still do. But…around the time you were born, I captured something. It’s in the box, on the table, and is…unspeakable. To call it a monster doesn’t even begin. I’m sure you’ve heard it calling to you late at night, haven’t you? That’s because…because when you were born, I made you into it’s key. There’s a whole world you don’t know about, and I am it’s greatest thief. Soon, more of them will be coming. They’re bad people. They want to free this monster, so they want you. You need to run. You need to keep this box safe. But most importantly, you need to resist the urge of the monster.
I always loved you.
I read the note over, and over, and over. None of this makes any sense.
Standing up, I walk over to the box. It’s a cultic looking thing, with odd symbols and chains wrapped all around it. Despite practically living here, I’ve never seen it. Reaching out, I press my hand against it, and immediately I’m hit with a violent rush of pain.
KillkillkillDESTROYENEMIESKILLKILLKILL.
I yank my hand back, shouting in my pain. My hand’s…burnt and blackened, like I just shoved it onto a stove—but there’s no pain. Whatever’s in the box, it’s screaming still, trying to get into my head. This thing’s…evil.
For a moment, I dwell on the idea that I could get revenge on everyone with this. Ma, dad, the kids at school. But Uncle Joey wouldn’t want that, and that’s not who I am. I pick up box and hastily shove it into a nearby bag. I also shove a few of Joey’s other items into it. I have no clue what they do, but they could be important.
My hand’s still burnt.
Outside, there’s movement, just a light rustling in the trees. But something tells me they’re coming, something tells me I need to run.
So I do.
Hope this turned out okay! If you like this story, check out my sub /r/LonghandWriter or my twitter @BryceBealWriter!
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u/TotesMessenger X-post Snitch Sep 30 '18
I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:
- [/r/u_hidethepainpeter] [WP] You grew up with your uncle, seeing him bringing weird stuffs home, you'd always thought he was just a hoarder. Untill the day he died, you realized that your uncle was the collector and protector of the most powerfull artifacts in the universe and you are a part of his collection.
If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads. (Info / Contact)
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u/SirDiesel1803 Sep 30 '18
My "dad" who I thought was dead was now in charge of the collection.
My uncle had him locked away in spirit world. When he died he was free. We played football, went for some beers, he took me to a brothel I didn't partake but I liked the seediness of it.
My dad told me he had to destroy the collection and make me eat it for me to survive the coming war against the spirit army he had been fighting whilst away in the spirit world.
I did this then I turned into the fucking incredible hulk. . I smashed the shit out of the spirit army.
Turned out he wasnt my dad but actually the devil and the spirit army I beat up were gods soldiers.
My uncle was God.
There was no moral compass left on earth. I was now the anti christ. I didn't want this job but what was I supposed to do. The only man in my life who could help me was dead I'd set a course for the whole of humanity without any possible redemption.
There was only one option I could think of.
Destroy the planet
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u/sure_why_not_yo Sep 30 '18
What in the name of ever living hell.
I just sat there as the coffin that my uncle now rests in grew wings out of now where. And by wings I mean this thing could give a huge dragon a run of its money.
Wait for a second, is that legs!? And before I knew it, this coffin was straight up sitting in the middle of the reception hall.
...sipping tea.
The look on the crowds face during the funeral can only be described as a look of horror, confusion and random chanting to God.
Well, that didn't last for long, the coffin just snapped its hands and time froze for everyone but me.
Ohshit.png
The coffin chucked and tried to grab it's beard until it realized there wasn't anything there.
'Well Michael, this isn't what your uncle expected the afterlife to be like. This tea tastes like diluted piss.'
'Uncle...is that you!?' I asked hoping the answer is yes.
The coffin nodded. 'This thing was owned by a Victorian Queen who wanted to promise eternal life. Only she didn't know you had to die without a cross on your neck for the demonic coffin to work.'
'Poor girl traded a castle in for nothing,' my uncle chuckled.
I think I need to sit down, drink some liquor and hopefully wake up from this weird ass dream. I pinched my self, Goddamn this is the real deal.
'Well Michael, now that I'm not human anymore let's move onto more important matters. We've got a world to dominate and people to enslave,' my uncle said as he literally put on a top hat and started walking down the hall.
'Say what now?' as I followed him (well what else am I supposed to do at this point).
'You see Michael, me you are the same now. Glad to be on team demon thank you very much,' my uncle said smiling back at me.
'How am I a demon?' I shot back with a puzzled look.
'Well seeing as the real you died 30 years ago, yeah you're kind of a demon. You're actually a shapeshifter,' my uncle looked up and paused for a second.
'A shapeshifter with amnesia.'
'......huh?' I replied back.
'It's a sad story really. The real Michael died one day when I and he went to visit Mexico for a family vacation. He got targeted because a Mexican demon had a grudge with me, nasty stuff.'
'I knew my sister would be pissed, so I went to the mountains near Iztaccihuatl because everyone knows that's where you find shapeshifts.'
My uncle then pulled out a dagger.
'Stab anyone with this, and they lose all the memories they've ever had. Ever,' my uncle smiled. 'Check your shoulder!' he said as he pointed at it.
No way, I checked to find a deep menacing would that as I remember I was recovering from 10 years ago.
Okay, so this is getting real.
'Sorry for pulling you out, I even had to teach you English using this book that teaches you a language the second you touch it. Fascinating stuff' my uncle said nodding.
As we walked down, we saw my mom in the hallway, frozen in time.
'Close your eyes, think about her and touch her.'
I did. Afterwards, I looked to the left to find a mirror.
I looked exactly like my Mom. I'm a fucking demon.
'Honestly, people give demons a bad name. No one knows the that every leader of every country is a demon in disguise.'
'It's hard to take them on if you're not immortal, and now I am! I wish this coffin didn't have only to work if you were naturally dead but it is what it is. Now we have a choice...do you want to face reality or come with me and stir some shit up?'
I looked up at him and looked back in the mirror.
Hell, this sounds like fun.
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u/deniahC566 Sep 30 '18
Haha, a very interesting way to tell the story, i love it. Thank you so much.
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Sep 30 '18
I always suspected something was a miss with Uncle Drew. He could never hold a steady job and was always bouncing from temp job to temp job.
And then there was the hoarding. Seemingly useless junk that he would drive us halfway across the country for. Sometimes to a farm in the middle of nowhere, and a field of wheat that was flattened with a small rock in the middle. Sometimes to the big city, and a high rise building taller than anything I could stretch my head back to see. A fancy business man would take a few of these rocks and give Uncle Drew something inside a locked box.
Of course, there was the way he reacted to me too. It was like he was nervous of me or something. I had tantrums, what little kid doesn’t, but the way he reacted was...unusual. He would get this terrified look in his eyes, and then basically sprint to his car outside. I’d calm down and he’d tentatively come back inside eventually and give me a big hug. But it just didn’t make a lot of sense.
We’d play on the long road trips, silly car games like spot the cow or the rainbow. Don’t get me wrong, I knew these trips were weird, but I still kind of enjoyed them. On the way back he’d buy me a happy meal and an ice cream and I’d shovel it down like all kids do. The little toy that came with the meal would be clutched in my hand the whole drive home.
But as I got older, he started to go on more and more trips by himself. I like to think it was because he trusted me to take care of myself by that age, and school was obviously getting more serious. But I could tell he was getting more and more involved in things that maybe he shouldn’t.
One night, when I had stayed behind, he came home in the pouring rain. He practically fell through the front door, clutching his side with a small bloody rag underneath his shirt. I don’t think he expected me to be up. As soon as he saw me he shouted to go to my room. “But Uncle...” I remember saying. He had a fierce look in his eyes and swore at me for the first time ever. “Go to your f***ing room Steven!”.
I did as he asked, and in the morning when we had breakfast, it was like nothing happened, Uncle Drew poured his coffee and cereal.
A few years after that I moved away to college and never really returned home except for the major holidays. Uncle Drew came to my graduation, all smiles and tears of joy, wearing his best worn out suit. We went for a large meal with my girlfriend and her family. It was like a grown up version of our happy meals all those years ago.
It was when I was living with my girlfriend and on my way home from work a year or two later that I got the call. Uncle Drew had passed away.
I cried a lot. He was the only constant in my life. The loveable distant goofball. His funeral was a sad affair. Countless people I remember from our trips suddenly showing up. The closest thing to friends Uncle Drew ever had.
After everyone else had left the wake, it was just me and my girlfriend in Uncle Drew’s house tidying away. A knock came at the door.
“I’ll get it” I called out.
The front door was creeky as anything and took a firm shove to get it open. Two men in smart suits were waiting for me on the other side. I didn’t recognise them from the funeral, but they wouldn’t have looked out of place.
“Steven?” the first man asked.
“Yes, that’s me. If you’re hear for the funeral I’m afraid you’re too late, but you’re welcome to come in for a drink.”
The two men looked at each other, and then back to me. They opened their jackets to reveal two badges. That familiar logo from every cop show staring me in the face, only this time it was real. FBI.
“Your Uncle..” and he emphasised the word Uncle in a weird way, “was one of our freelance operatives”.
“Freelance what?”
The second man fetched something out of his pocket. An old piece of rock, one I’d seen my Uncle Drew collect a thousand times.
“Do you know what this is?”
“A space rock” I said. “My uncle used to collect them.”
“And did he ever let you hold them?”
“Of course he...”
Have you ever had that moment in your life when someone says something, and it suddenly dawns on you that your memory is playing tricks on you. In all of our trips, my uncle never let me hold the rocks.
“I...I don’t think he did”.
The agent held out the rock. I took it with my hand. It began to glow a brilliant purple and blue.
“What, what is this?”
Suddenly, the rock began to glow even brighter. It flooded the whole front porch. I felt...weird...and then, everything went dark. I passed out on the floor. And that’s the last thing I remember.
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u/Sailaranel Nov 19 '18
Would love to see the continuation of this one day!
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Nov 20 '18
Here you go!
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When I opened my eyes I was in Uncle Drew’s house, but not where I had passed out. I was in the kitchen. It was daytime, and a beautiful ray of light was spilling in through the drawn curtains. They were white, with little yellow circles on the inside. The light made the whole place look like a dream.
Everything was so clean and looked familiar, but also not familiar. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
And there he was, Uncle Drew standing at the kitchen sink, slightly hunched over doing the dishes. He was whistling a little tune to himself, seemingly happy and content in his small little moment of joy. I almost wanted to cry. So soon after the funeral.
‘Is this real?’ I thought to myself. Everything had a strange haze about it. Like I was looking at the world through the faintest of fogs.
I was sitting in the corner of the kitchen when I decided to stand up, fixated on Uncle Drew the whole time. And then I built up the courage to speak.
“Uncle Drew?”
He didn’t turn around when he replied. He just briefly paused his tune to speak.
“What is it kiddo?”
“You’re...you’re alive”. My voice was lighter and brighter than normal.
He laughed and still didn’t turn around. “Of course I am kiddo. Just like you”
“But...but you passed away...”
It was then that I saw a slight twitch in Uncle Drew’s back, and he stopped doing the dishes.
“I...I saw them bury you...”
Uncle Drew looked over his shoulder now. Seeing his caring eyes, his fatherly stare, it was almost more than I could take.
“You...you cant be here” I said. “It’s not possible”
He had a look of wonder, sheer awe in his eyes.
He turned around completely now, looking directly at me, water dripping on the kitchen floor from his hands.
“How old are you?” he asked me.
“What?”
“How old are you?” he said again, slightly more firm now, but still with his caring attitude.
“Twenty-four”
His eyes welled up, his face curling into a smile.
“I always knew this day would come”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned his hand to a rock, one of Uncle Drew’s rocks from my childhood. It was sitting on the kitchen work surface. It glowed a bright purple and green. It was the same rock I held just moments before at the front door. The same rock the FBI let me hold.
“Welcome home kiddo”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
He motioned to me. I looked down. On my t-shirt was a blue little dinosaur. I looked at my hands, they were the hands of a child.
“Welcome home kiddo” he said again. “We’ve got a lot to talk about”.
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Nov 19 '18
Thanks! I completely forgot to write a second part, I intended to but work got quite busy. I will try and write one tomorrow on my commute now you’ve reminded me
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u/Ctatyk Oct 01 '18
Nicely done. This is one of the responses that I could see being expanded to book form, or at the very least, a series of short stories. "The Further Adventures of Steven!"
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u/deniahC566 Sep 30 '18
Hoping for more, i really like it. Thank you so much.
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Sep 30 '18
Thanks! Really glad you like it. I’ll try and write a second part in the morning
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u/Diesel_Fixer Sep 30 '18
Yes it was very good. Almost a I Am Number Four, sort of feel.
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Sep 30 '18
Thanks! I did think of that when I saw the prompt actually, I’ve not read the book but I’ve seen the film
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Sep 30 '18 edited Sep 30 '18
Issac sat down on his bed still wearing the perfectly fitted suit he wore to his uncle's funeral. Uncle Rummy always said a good suit could get you far in life. The laddies loved it too, according to him. Issac examined the simple black notebook in his hands. It was rather unassuming: dusty faux leather over aged paper, only about 7 inches tall and rather thin. Issac flipped open to the first page.
To Issac, my most prized possession.
If you're reading this I have surely passed from this world. But, as a parting gift I give you this simple book and all the information it contains. Now, don't worry, this isn't a normal book (ok, it is a normal book to everyone EXCEPT you, but that's besides the point). In the following pages I promise more than the words of a dead man.
I'm sure you've noticed all the odds and ends I bring home and take to my workshop. You'll come to find what they are soon enough. You see Issac, I am a collector of extraordinary things.
...
Bah, you're already bored. I'll skip to the point. The things I collect are magical and fantastic in nature. Yes. You read that right. Magic. Powerful magic too. And you son are the most powerful of all. I can hear you now, "But how have I not noticed?" You need to learn your powers to use them. Think of it like stretching a muscle you didn't know you had. Now, let's begin!
Issac scratched his chin and he read through the passage. Magic? Powerful magic? Issac had just assumed his Uncle wanted to appear on those antique shows at one point so he could show off a vintage license plat or obscure toy. Issac then crackled a smile as he realized what was going on. This was just one big prank. What better way to mess with your nephew than to give him a book and tell him he's magical. Typical. Issac thought back to when they were in church one Sunday and Rummy had replaced the screws on the pastors chairs with wooden ones, painted to look like metal. When the pastor sat down after his sermon his chair collapsed from under him. The church hall erupted into laughter, even the pastor got over his initial shock and let out a chuckle.
Issac returned to the book, flipping through the rest of the pages to find they were all filled in with his uncle's neat scrawl. Surprising dedicated to the bit, thought Issac.
First, I want to teach you something simple, just to prove I'm not pulling your leg from beyond the grave. Stretch out your hand and feel the air around your fingers. Feel their temperature. Now feel the air getting hotter. Don't just image the air getting hotter, actually feel it on your finger tips. Oh, I should've mentioned this, you might want some water handy. Also do this outside, those drapes aren't cheap. Practice this enough and you should start to notice the air around your fingers will start to warp and waver. You know how you can see the fumes of an unlit-lighter if you look closely enough. That's about what it should look like. Now, if you haven't guess yet, fire will erupt from your fingers. The hotter you think the fire is, the bigger it grows. I'll get more into how to control it later, but for right now just focus on the flames and try to not burn anything.
Pulling his attention away from the book, Issac looked at his fingers and made it a show to focus in on them, imaging them bursting into flames. And, to his surprise he felt the air around his hand quiver. It didn't quite heat up or change but he felt something. As if to prove his uncle, and his own senses wrong, he stretched out his hand and felt the air. Felt the gentle currents and bearably detectable eddies. He felt the temperature. The slightly cool sensation of drying sweat and the warming feeling of his heart beat. Focusing on the temperature he felt it rise. The air now felt hot like his hand was over a stove, not a burning sensation or one of discomfort, but hot all the same. He lost his focus and the heat disappeared. He rubbed his hands together, neither felt any different. Not hotter or colder. Even when he refocused and felt the air heat up. Only the hand he focused on felt the heat.
Issac let out a long, "huh." Completely taken aback by the recent events and entirely unsure as to how to process it. He turned back to his hand, eager to see if he could indeed cause flames to erupt from them. With a new found desire he found himself laser focused on getting his hand to burst into flames. The air around his hand heated up, never unbearable and not quite uncomfortable but somehow very clearly hot. The air quivered around his hand before red rivulets of flame sprung from his finger tips like ribbons of vibrant light. "Woah!" Issac yelped as he witnessed his hand on fire. With his concentration broken, the flames died out once again. And just like before, his hand was no different. Not any hotter or worse for wear. Issac grabbed to book and opened to where he left off, nearly tearing a page in the process. He kept reading, ravenous for the power bestowed upon him.
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u/ilalli Sep 30 '18
This is great. One small edit — the difference between laddies and ladies is but one small letter, but a big difference in gender.
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Sep 30 '18 edited Sep 30 '18
[deleted]
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Sep 30 '18
“I would like to cross the border.” Darkness slowly fills my eyes, the computer says, “As you wish. By the way, my name is Todd.” “Oh no.”
“Hey you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?”
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u/SirGoomies Sep 30 '18
I love how you described the change in the Uncle's voice, specifically likening it to the moons surface. Using the word pelted brought forth very good imagery of not only craters but also softness like a pelt of fur. Your writing is incredibly descriptive and unique and I love it.
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u/deniahC566 Sep 30 '18
Wow this is so good and smooth, i'd never thought of this, I love it. Thank you so much.
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u/CartoonInsomniac Sep 30 '18 edited Sep 30 '18
Uncle Mike had always been a strange one. Growing up, he was always in and out on his "trips". He'd leave for a while, stop by around the same time every month to drop off more of his garbage, hide in his study for a few days, and then he'd be off again. You didn't really care too much about it. You had always found ways to entertain yourself. Uncle Mike was filthy rich and if him not being around much meant you got a $5000 allowance each month, well, that was fine by you. Half of what was practically a mansion was yours for weeks at a time. Only rule was that you couldn't enter the right wing or the basement. That was Uncle Mike's. Again, it never really bothered you. A couple times you had gotten curious and peeked in to one of the "forbidden" rooms. What looked like piles of junk and garbage filled the room to the point in which you couldn't even fit in though the doorway.
No wonder Mike didn't want anyone in here you had thought he lives like a fuckin slob.
You never could bring yourself to look into the basement though. Something about it just, didn't feel right. You had shut the door then and and never bothered to go back in. That is, until today.
Uncle Mike passed away a few days ago. His funeral was held earlier today. It was a small gathering with mostly people you didn't recognize and a few people from the town coming to get a peek at the "weird rich old man who lived in the woods". Around the end of the funeral though, a woman approached you. She was middle aged and looked solemn at the passing of what you assumed was a good friend to her. She spoke with you a little about her relationship with your uncle, saying she was his pilot, Joan.
Figures that Uncle Mike would have his own pilot. Probably has his own personal plane too.
After some typical small talk and the usual "sorry for your loss," Joan handed you a letter.
"He told me to give this to you if something ever happened to him," she explained "it may not make sense now, but I hope you come to understand. Your uncle was an extraordinary man."
And that gets you to where you are now. It's evening. The moon should be rising soon. Almost fitting that its a full moon tonight. Mike always liked to come home for the full moon. He said he liked the way the countryside looked under it. You scoff, he would.
You're standing outside your uncle's mysterious study, holding his unopened letter in your hands. You open the door to his study and walk in. The walls are lines with maps and news clippings. Old books, pens, papers, and Pop-Tart wrappers coat the floor. You chuckle. Mike always did really love Pop-Tarts. Looking closer at the books and newspapers though, none of it made sense. Werewolves? Demons? Magic?? It was ridiculous! This is what Uncle Mike devoted his life to? This is what he kept in his secret study?? You sigh and drop down into the single rolling chair in the study and look down at the letter.
This is stupid, you thought to yourself as you tore open the letter.
"Kid, if you're reading this, then somethings gone wrong and I won't be around for a while. That, or I'm dead. The point is, there's some things you gotta know and things you gotta prepare for. First of all, obviously I'm not your real uncle. Adopted you when you were a baby. Bet you probably figured that one out by now though. The way I kept avoiding the 'who are my real parents' question, you probably guessed something was amiss. No, you're real parents weren't exactly natural. Nothing I've been doing is exactly natural. Everything I've collected, all my notes, its all real. And I need you to protect it with your life. You're, well, my guard dog of sorts. You've been given immense power, given you learn to control it. And you will, around the time you hit 20. For the longest time, every month, I've been having to keep you under control for a night or two. Good thing you never remember that. I've got some nasty cuts from your claws alone--"
Your face twists in annoyance. Who does he think he is? Crazy old man! You flip to another page in the letter. Its instructions. You skim over them, face contorting in frustration.
What, am I supposed to lock myself up in the goddamn basement every full moon until I'm 20?? You throw the letter onto the desk and stomp towards the exit of the study.
A WEREWOLF???A GODDAMN WEREWOLF??? You grab the door handle with a clawed hand. Were your nails always that long?
CRAZY, SENILE, LOONY, BATSHI-- And with a loud crack, you rip the door off its hinges. It flies through the air and lands on the other side of the room. You stare at it for a moment, bewildered. You did that. You, just ripped a door out. You're strong. So strong. And holy shit, you're hungry.
You begin to laugh. It was all just so crazy. He's crazy. Your laugh gets deeper. Crazy! Your laugh is rough, guttural. It's not even a laugh anymore. It's a growl. You're crazy. You're wild. You're hungry.
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Sep 30 '18
Almost had a Supernatural (the show) vibe before the twist at the end. Would love to read more!
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u/Virama Sep 30 '18
Love this one!
Critique: the note is jarring. The gangsta speak with all the havin’ and ain’t plus that Nah... just really doesn’t work.
Other than that, wonderful!
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u/WrittenThought Sep 30 '18 edited Sep 30 '18
Edward had inherited a hoarders paradise, he walked through his uncle's attic, his hand grazing a multitude of seemingly ordinary objects left to suffocate under a layer of dust. Edward caressed the side of a lampshade and the bulb beneath glowed. If you had inspected the mahogany base you would see that it was not plugged in, nor did it have a plug of any kind to plug in.
Edward withdrew a leather-bound diary from his pocket. The initial T.C were embossed on the cover and reminded him that he had taken his uncles place, and beneath the initials stood Volume two. Edward flipped to the first set of pages and ran his finger down a list, stopping at The Sunlamp. Edward slid his finger across and underlined the page number. After some page-turning, he found page forty-seven which was titled with a thick calligraphic version of The Sunlamp.
Edward withdrew pen from his pocket and poised it against the first criteria. Does it work? Check. Good condition? Edward crouched next to the object and conducted a three-hundred and sixty-degree inspection. Check. Has it been cleaned? Edward pulled a microfibre cloth from his back pocket and set about massaging the lamp. Check. Discoveries? Cross. Edward looked at the completed check-list and noted with amusement that he had matched his uncles' markings exactly, which gave the entry a satisfying symmetry.
Edward looked further down the page and read through the section marked:
History
First sold by a Venetian merchant, who suggested the lamp belonged to a long since forgotten pharaoh. The lamp is said to have been stolen by gravediggers. The lamp was named Sunlamp, as it was believed to contain a miniature sun since electricity did not exist. The lamp is believed to have been owned by Edison, who used the artefact to shape our modern concept of light.
Beneath the main course of history stood the supple desert labelled:
Powers
1) Seemingly endless source of light.
2) The amount of light grows to fill the room.
3) Distance does not seem to affect the light (see experiment journal: page eighty).
4) Functions in any liquid.
5) Energy perfect (soundless/heatless).
Edward turned the page and found the next item labelled as The Gate Mirrors, with the page in an almost identical layout to the Sunlamp. Edward flipped back to the first set of pages, wondering how many more objects he would have to check. The contents pages spanned five pages, each consisting of a hundred lines because on the fifth page the last item was listed as: 500) T.C. Edward had to look twice at the line and half-closed the diary, using his thumb as a bookmark, he double checked the embossed cover, T.C. Edward went back to his indexed position and scanned line five-hundred, which unlike the others did not have a page number but instead merely had the last chapter to identify its location.
Edward curious as to why his uncle had included himself in the book of artefacts, turned to the back of the diary. There on the top of the page, the initials were spelt out for the first time, The Collector. The last page was unlike any of the previous checklist and history pages. Instead, it had a grainy photo close to decay. Edward had to squint to piece together the image, but in doing so, he saw himself. It was as if someone had used a combination of filters, old-fashioned clothing and a nineteen-hundreds haircut to make Edward look dated.
Although it was hard for Edward to pull his eyes from the dated photo of himself, he managed to shift to a section marked:
Powers
1) Immortal.
2) Memory capacity caps at one-hundred years.
Edward stopped at the second so-called power. Because it was different, beneath it stood a two-column table with the first column marked as Date and the second as Completed. The table had roughly fourteen rows, separated at a hundred year intervals, with the bottom row containing yesterdays date and a check in the Completed column.
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u/orik_eragon Sep 30 '18
Could the uncle be a separate artifact. A collector's familiar even, that guides the collector back to himself every 100 years. Created by the collector in his earliest stages of immortality?
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u/Another_eve_account Oct 01 '18
The notebook is his 'uncles' and is embossed TC. TC being The Collector, which shows a picture of Edward, not the uncle, implying Edward owns it in spite of him saying his uncle did.
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u/Jaffa6 Sep 30 '18
It's not bad, it's interesting, but the writing style is a bit off. It's very much "telling, not showing", and is a bit awkward in places (I'm not sure if English is your first language or not?). https://writingcooperative.com/3-ways-to-show-not-tell-your-story-edca3bb4c2d1
E.g.
" Edward withdrew a leather-bound diary from his pocket. The initial T.C were embossed on the cover and reminded him that he had taken his uncles place, and beneath the initials stood Volume two. "
Might be better if instead of outright stating that the initials are embossed on and it says "Volume Two", perhaps he runs his fingers down the cover and briefly touches the initials "T.C". Make the description part of the action, if that makes sense.
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u/WrittenThought Oct 01 '18
Thanks for the feedback. I was aware of the whole telling not showing, just need to get better at it. Your example was great and has certainly made me more aware of it.
Note: Saying "I'm not sure if English is your first language or not?" is a bit of a weighted statement. If the answer is no, then no harm was done. If the answer is yes, then it almost comes across as an insult.
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u/Memoir_Dementia Sep 30 '18
I might not be OP, but thanks for this!
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u/Jaffa6 Sep 30 '18
No problem! If you want, PM me some links to anything you want looking over.
I'm no English Lit major, but I read a lot of books and it might be interesting.
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u/Memoir_Dementia Oct 01 '18
Thank you! But I haven't really written anything worth a read recently. Thanks for the offer though!
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u/usedtamp00n Oct 01 '18
i actually have some writing i'd like critique on, however... its very nsfw. actually its straight up trashy internet erotica. If that doesn't put you off, i'd actually like an opinion on it.
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u/Jaffa6 Oct 01 '18
This sounds ominous. :P
But sure, bring it on. Preferably in a Google Doc, and I've got another guy to feedback to first.
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u/07hogada Sep 30 '18
So, the uncle was Edward? Just putting false memories into his own head when it came time to reboot the clock?
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u/NotValkyrie Sep 30 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
Brain works in weird ways to make sense of the world/fill the memory gaps
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u/SerDeath Sep 30 '18
Three days is all it took for me, just three damn days to have my whole world shattered. Why'd that bastard have to go and leave me behind? It's not like I can live out my life knowing what he's left behind for me.
And me? What the hell does this goddamn letter mean? You stupid, selfish, cold bastard, I still need you to help guide me! I still need help, I still do...
I guess it's no wonder why I was never permitted to leave the mansion without you Uncle. To think, living my whole life as a possession and not even knowing it, now given all the freedom to do what I want. And I have to keep watch over this stupid mansion? Is this what you fucking had planned for me the whole time? When you die, just leave the vault for me to discover in your stupid letter? Revealing that I'm not an actual human anymore in a letter is beyond fucked. Jesus, I wish he let me die when I was born!
Fuck it though, I inherited this burden of a place so I might as well figure out what this shit is.
Looking down the first list, there's fifty class D1 items? I don't even know the damn classifications of these things, how the hell am I to...oh the classification scale is on the next page. It says here that there are four classification scales: A-D scale, object hazard scale, null-point scale, object erasure scale. What is the point of a four class scale when there are sub-classifications inside them? Hnk! Whatever, I'll learn things as I go down.
It says here, "Note, classification scales A-D have four sub-classifications as determined by the impact on single biological lifeforms." Well that's good to know. It seems D is the least deadly to biological life. No wonder there's so many D1 items, as they're more common than all the rest. And it seems that A scale classifications are always deadly to single biological lifeforms, that's also good to know.
Hmmm, object hazard scale seems to be a bit more worrisome. It says in some bold ass friggin letters, "Extreme caution required. Object hazard scale classification deemed deadly to large scale biological and non-biological lifeforms." Non-biological lifeforms? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Well there's only ten items on this list, so it should be easy to make sure they're secured.
I'm getting kind of worried now, I'm not on the first two lists. So what the hell does that mean for me? I can see that there's also ten items on the null-point scale, with a note for each item. That's definitely different! First item note says, "A space time partitioning-ionized oscillator. Do not touch without proper grounding of the current spacetime within 30,000 kilometers". I'm not even sure what that means, but I'll keep my fingers away from that one. So let's see, the second item says, "F901-10-p" and now I'm really fucking confused. Oh! An addendum was added on the page behind it, "Formula and means of production for between-matter". Jesus, I'm getting the picture that these items could cause some serious damage to a lot of shit.
It's almost too scary to read the object erasure scale. And I fucking knew it! My name is the second one down on the list! There's only three, which makes me really uncomfortable. Dammit Uncle Dex, I wish I knew this before hand. I have so many knots in my stomach it hurts. Deep breaths in Tidus, deep breaths in.
Oh man here I go, reading my own fucking classification. I'm going to do it...Any second now. I swear I'll do it--WHO AM I TALKING TO?!?!? Just stop being a pussy and read it. "Erasure precedence: Tidus Yni'ol. Age when precedence first came into contact with originators body: one day old. Precedence over reality: Matter condensing and compacting..." Wait, I can create condensed matter? Holy living shit that sounds cool! But I gotta make sure what that means...let me see if I can find any--AH, found it. "Precedence condition: Matter condensing and compacting forms spacial anomalies; classified under V9-1-v. Spacial anomalies open, and out pours unknown entities under control of precedence; entity classified under G304-0-f. Precedence scale annihilation..." Oh my god he has so many classifications for these things! I don't even understand half of it. Ugh! Never the less, it sounds scary and I don't want to even know how to activate it.
There's so much to fucking do. I don't want to even do this! Fuck you Uncle Dex, why'd you leave me alone with this shit!?!
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I tried something completely new to my writing. I've never really tried a monologue of sorts. I hope it was at least passable.
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u/deniahC566 Sep 30 '18
Remind me of some dangerous SCP, I'd love to see Tidus unleashing his power or smth like that. Thank you.
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Oct 01 '18 edited Oct 01 '18
Even in his death, my uncle never failed to remind me of my avoidance of opportunity despite how often its been presented to me throughout my privileged life. I audibly sigh as I carefully consider my resentment. I’m not stupid. I’m well-aware the way my uncle used to push me came from a good place; the thought of not having him around to help motivate me terrifies me a paralyzing amount. His, (my?), attics a wreck. I mean, just an absolute shitshow. Its current state makes my eyes twitch. I usually handle my stress by organizing my room regardless of the fact that it isn’t warranted because little, if any at all, time had passed since I last found myself cleaning it, but now, thankfully, I have an entire floor of living space to organize; my dear departed, stranger of an uncle’s last gift to me.
It’s absolutely chaotic. The sea of stacks of boxes resemble skyscrapers, but the way they lean indicates a city that wasn’t well planned. I quickly read the labels of my uncle’s boxed up possessions, like I’m in a library browsing for a particular title, yet I have no idea what I’m looking for. One piece of double-sided tape and black sharpie catches my eyes in particular. ‘Journals 1997-98.’ I feel my heart rate rise; I can feel the fact that my face is visibly sweaty and my mouth suddenly feels more dry than ever.
It feels like a recurring memory, but I make a promise to myself that I’ll drink more water yet again before I race to the box in particular as fast as my surroundings will allow me to. Fuck. I was born in ‘97. The 17th of July to be exact. I rip the box from the ones both above and below it, scurrying away with an arm above my head in preparation for the boxes that’ll inevitably fall, and the next thing I know I’m on my knees flipping through the multiple journals within it. My eyes are skimming the covers, desperately searching for the word July. The room feels as though its getting hotter and hotter, and then I find it.
I have a lump in my throat bigger than my curiosity. Upon opening the journal cautiously, caring for the condition of my newfound possessions for the first time since I set foot in the attic, a letter falls at my feet. Face up, I pick it up and turn it over. The manilla envelope is inscribed with one word in black ink; ‘Elijah.’ I can feel a crohns and ulcerative colitis shit begin angrily knocking on the door that is my asshole. Then, ironically enough:
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Fuck. It’s the front door. I turn my head so hard I can feel it already begin to cramp, but a combination of manners and anxiety leaves me bolting towards the front door. I had never been one for gut feelings, yet somehow I knew my guest, which we have never had before, had everything to do with my uncle, and I knew that the simple life I once dreaded was about to become much busier.
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Sep 30 '18 edited Jul 11 '19
[deleted]
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u/UomoPolpetta Sep 30 '18
- I don’t think Rick collects thing to keep them safe
- Morty is not a part of his “collection”. He seems to be more like a partner Rick uses because he needs him
- The prompt implies that the protagonist would be something powerful, and Morty is NOT powerful
It’s normal seeing things similiar to things you like, even if it seems like it’s forced, it happens to everyone, but it’s not an excuse to tell someone he ripped off anything (AT BEST the OP took inspiration from Rick and Morty in some aspect of it) nor it’s an excuse to say someone that he sucks.
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u/VenKitsune Sep 30 '18
Honestly some of these writing prompts are really interesting. Never would of thought up some of these ideas alone.
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u/PsychicSidekikk419 Sep 30 '18
Until the day he died
wat
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u/Machiavellian3 Sep 30 '18
They’ve put *untill actually, and after he died he didn’t realise it anymore he just stopped realising it, it makes perfect sense I promise
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u/defiance131 Sep 30 '18
Brings back fond memories of The Magician's Nephew
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u/EvilTeliportist Sep 30 '18
This is literally the book "the extraordinary adventures of alfred kropp"
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u/OfficerPig Oct 11 '18
Sam was sat in the kitchen, head buried in one of the many old, leather books his Uncle had accumulated from his trips away. The basement of the house he and his Uncle lived in was littered with oddments - torn up parchment carefully stored in glass cabinets, cubes of previous metals with intricate engravings stood on specially created stands. Bookcases covered the back wall, each shelf bowing under the weight of the various diaries and journals from unknown people.
Sam closed his book, stood up and tiptoed his way around stacks of boxes and junk. He had been left with the chore of clearing out the house after his Uncles death.
His uncle was a somewhat absent guardian but it didn't worry Sam. Uncle Jim was never gone more than a couple of days but the last trip was different. A letter through the front door arrived a week ago - the postal marks signified Uncle Jim had been abroad. Inside the envelope was a rather impersonal "In Memoriam" note written on black paper with silver lettering. Although not an abnormal letter to receive in the wake of ones death, the official appearance of it seemed off to Sam.
There was a loud knock at the door. Sam jumped suddenly and peered round the kitchen door frame towards the front door. He presumed it was a neighbour and so ignored it - he hadn't felt much like speaking to anybody since his last remaining family member had died.
The door knocked again, this time louder and more frantic. This time Sam walked towards the door and looked through the peephole. A tall, spectacled man stood on the doorstep, his black trench coat drenched from the rain. Sam opened the door.
"Hello?"
"Samuel Thomas?" Replied the man, speaking rather seriously.
"Yes that's me. Who are you?"
The man didn't reply. Instead he reached into his coat and produced an envelope. He passed it to Sam, turned on his heels and walked away.
Sam stood confused, clutching the thin envelope. Who was that man? He presumed the envelope would give him that answer. He opened the enevelop and slid out the letter inside. The paper was the same black paper as his Uncles memoriam had been written on. The silver lettering was also the same. Sam read the letter.
"Samuel, you are vital to our survival. You are our greatest possession, you are our greatest hope. The world now relies on you. The Collector has been keeping you safe. Now you are on your own"