Writing Group: No Longer Human

Hello, Scourge Beasts and Frog Princes!

You’re still human, I see. You might shudder to hear it, but I was like you once. You best cherish your humanity while it lasts because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

No Longer Human

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

There are many stories about monsters, and some of the most captivating are those about monsters who were once human. Many of us are fascinated with stories of werewolves and vampires learning to live with their new powers and limitations. Sometimes people are forced out of their humanity by a curse. Sometimes these inhuman changes occur only at certain times, like the full moon. Sometimes they slowly get worse over time. Or much like our prompt from last week, sometimes these curses need to be reversed before sundown, or sunrise, otherwise they’ll be permanent. 

You could write about someone trying to break the curse, like the Frog Prince needing a kiss. Or perhaps you could write about someone who’s come to (however begrudgingly) accept their new life, or at least find the good in it, like Salem or Thackery Binx, the cursed black cats from some of our favorite witchy stories. 

Perhaps it’s an entire group of people who are “no longer human.” The game Bloodborne is a good example of this. The entire town of Yharnam suffers from the Scourge of Beasts which causes everyone to turn into half-wolves and tentacled horrors. However, in the end…perhaps the goal of being “no longer human” wasn’t the problem…perhaps it was merely the execution that went wrong. The game Bendy and the Ink Machine is another good example. When the words “Not Monsters” come up, it might be difficult to believe. But after seeing the truth through the looking glass: “Once people, now fallen into despair” the horror of the story becomes tragedy. 

There’s a certain tragedy to the phrasing of the prompt in general. A longing. A tale of someone who was human once…but is no longer. These words could be the lament of what a character has lost, or the hope that they can become human again. 

Or…perhaps not. Maybe these words are said in pride. In some stories, humans can ascend into godhood, or some other form of superhumanity. In that case they might say the words brimming with pride that they have surpassed ordinary human limitations. 

Maybe a villain is no longer human due to the horrors they committed. Much like Voldemort, slowly becoming something less and less human the more he split himself apart. 

It doesn’t have to be all monsters and villains. Perhaps you could write about a cyborg who believes the metal in their bones, the wires in their blood, means they aren’t human anymore. Or you could write about someone who has downloaded their brain and memories into a computer…and regrets the loss of their past self. 

There could be a more realistic kind of sadness to the prompt as well. The masses might cast insults and stones at someone for their supposed sins, saying they’re not human—if nothing else, to allow them to forgo compassion. One of the most horrifying real examples is when someone’s parents might shout that their child isn’t human, simply for doing something they don’t approve of. 

Most of our prompts come from idioms, or phrases our helpful and twitchy humans can think of. But this one is taken directly from the title of a book: “No Longer Human” by Osamu Dazai. The book is autobiographical, and tells of the many struggles that Dazai went through throughout his life—both inside and outside his mind. He felt isolated, and even disqualified, from the human race due to these many struggles, hence the title. You could write about something like that; Someone who is in fact perfectly human, but their pain and/or isolation inside makes them feel as though they aren’t. 

So, go out there and show us the best of humanity. Or else, let the fire of your humanity fade. For in the ashes of what is left behind, something new, strange, and horrible…or maybe even beautiful may be found. 

Who knows? Maybe being human isn’t the end-all, be-all, after all…

—Kaylie

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

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Comments

169 responses to “Writing Group: No Longer Human”

  1. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    Honor Thy Father (A Song for: Abraham)
    by Lunabear

    The red-orange blaze encompassed the community. It signified danger, passion.

    His rebirth.

    Black shadows scurried through the choking smoke. Horrified screams clogged the air.

    The snarling, hungry mass behind him writhed as one entity.

    He kept his gaze straight ahead, his mission clear. “Harm no woman or child. Seek me out after you’ve had your fill.”

    Approving hisses disappeared into the chaotic night, followed by petrified wails.

    Abraham moved through the onyx fog like a phantom. Four bloodied wraiths joined him.

    Bodies littered the ground. Screams silenced. The night blazed on.

    The house came into view. Abraham closed his eyes against the assailing memories and reminded himself that he wasn’t a child anymore.

    His eyes opened and one fierce kick brought the door down.

    Isaac. He stood firm. His shoulders did not move except for the steadiness of his breath. His eyes gleamed with hatred and expectancy.

    “The hellbound disgrace darkens a doorway covered in lamb’s blood.”

    Abraham stepped over the threshold. His voice was deceptively cool. “No flock for the shepherd, Isaac.”

    Isaac walked forward, one fist raised. A book was secure in his other hand. “The Shepard did not despai– ”

    Abraham delivered one solid punch to Isaac’s nose. The stomach turning crunch seemed to echo for days.

    White and red pages spilled across the floor.

    Isaac crumbled against the far wall. Crimson caked his face. Several black spaces were visible when he grimaced.

    “He doesn’t hear sinners so low on the ladder.”

    Abraham advanced, gripping Isaac by the throat and hoisted him high.

    “Abomination! You will suffer for all of eternity!”

    Spittle and blood coated Abraham’s face, but he ignored it.

    “You saw to it that I suffered every single day.”

    “It was to teach you discipline and respect!”

    “My mother is responsible for that.” Abraham dropped Isaac and turned his back to the man he’d once called father.

    “I leave you to my children.” Abraham returned to the threshold.

    He listened as skin was torn from bone, as gluttony and decay perfumed the humid air.

    Abraham remained until the last of Isaac’s screams ceased.

  2. Ascended
    By Claire (Clanso)

    Shimmer bent down and gently placed a wet cloth on her chosen one’s head. Head resting in her lap, he stirred in his troubled sleep but thankfully he didn’t wake up.

    She, goddess of the hearth and bonfire, had always liked and favored Alexander not because he was a fierce fighter or great explorer, but because he was like her. Caring and full of earnest love for his husband and child.

    Her siblings had never understood that. And like every time they encountered something of hers they couldn’t understand, they conspired to destroy it.

    That’s why, on either side of where she had placed the cool cloth, long, curved horns now broke her Hearthkeepers’ skin and his entire body was aching and sore with an ascension that he had never asked for.

    What a cruel joke. First they had slowly lured him into the very specific scenario under which a human could rise up to become one of them and then they offered him a choice: Either he agreed to ascend or his new powers would destroy his frail human body before he could ever see his family again.

    When they had finally returned him to that family after months, he was unconscious and covered in wounds caused by the rapid changes of ascension. Since then she and Henry had taken turns, watching over him as he slept and carefully tending to his countless injuries.

    When his unfocused eyes opened for a second and he saw both his partner and her at his bedside without recognizing either of them she started to sob silently and couldn’t stop for days.

    They had done this to him because they thought it would break him either way. Her heart certainly broke many times while she cared for her new…brother? Son? It didn’t matter, he was hers to care for either way.

    And while she kept vigil by his side no fire on the island would dare to bring any warmth or comfort to her siblings. If she denied them her blessings for long enough she could make them all beg for Alexanders forgiveness.

  3. Dantex303 Avatar
    Dantex303

    “one clock measures another”
    By dante (dantex303)

    The worker woke up with his face on his desk, touched his forehead and sighed

    He took out a wind-up watch from his pocket and noticed that it was stopped, upon discovering such a thing he panicked and looked around.

    He ran scared to a small wooden door in the corner and struggled through it.

    The worker entered quickly with his pocket watch in hand and turned on the light that revealed a wall covered with clocks.

    Tick ​​tock, tick tock, the sound was deafening. But for the worker it seemed almost comforting.

    He set his watch to the correct time and then hurried back to his desk and started winding up a small device with a bell.

    “It’s late! I must hurry up and complete my tasks!” Quickly the worker took out a screwdriver and opened a hatch in front of his desk.

    An entire wall of motionless gears was present behind the hatch, our protagonist rushed to try to fix the device but was interrupted by the sound of the main elevator moving directly to his office.

    “Mr 475!” Yelled the stopwatch director. “You and your procrastinating tendencies have proven useless to the company and have caused a five-minute movement in every clock on the chain! Don’t you think about the person whose office is across from yours? These gears are very important!” “I-I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again” the worker stuttered “of course not!” The director yelled as he searched for something in his pocket.

    “Here’s an authorization card! You’d better go straight to the help desk!” The director stepped back and let the card fall to the floor behind him, it gently slid to the floor like a feather.

    The device with the bell sounded as a calming signal, the worker walked out of the office and to the help desk…

    The worker powered up, scanned his surroundings, looked at his desk, and began working on the hatch in front of him.

    The smoke coming out of the chimney on his back had a clear second hand pattern, finally he was an ideal worker.

  4. Rosemary by Floor

    “How many winters have gone through since the last time we talked? 10? 100? 20-“. He stopped mid sentence, looking worried at his partner.

    “Sorry about that. I know that you don’t like me talking about time. It is getting harder to speak with you after so long. I am afraid that I might be forgetting about you and the village, and I don’t want to. I really want to keep you with me, all of you”. His gaze looked down to the floor, losing itself among the bushes, as he did, he caught one with blue flowers and then looked up excitedly showing her his discovery.

    “Ah, yes! I remember now why I was here, I wanted to get this plant, this is a Rosemary, it meant remembrance. Quite ironic, right? I keep latching onto these herbs to remember you, to keep the memories of our tribe. It has become quite the hobby, I have dedicated the last centu-“. He quickly stopped his dialogue after mentioning time again. He tried to reach out to her, but stopped midway once he saw that he didn’t have his glove, showing her his skeletal hand.

    “Excuse me again… Don’t worry, it wasn’t caused by the curse, it is more of a personal choice to remind myself of that day. If I wanted to, I can always return to my human appearance, but I would need to consume a soul. And I don’t like it. I just hope that you don’t think that I’m gross for this ghoulish appearance. Are you willing to accept me? Even after what I did to you? I really wish I could go back, to be able to feel you again, to be able to hear you”. He finally got the courage to reach out to his partner, touching the grave adorned with feathers in front of him.

    “I wish to remember more about you, after so many centuries My mind has become hazier. Yet, my feelings haven’t changed at all. Thanks for being born, Fae”.

  5. Raiden Frost Avatar
    Raiden Frost

    “Curse of the Undying”
    By Raiden Frost

    In this war, I finally can meet my end, for my entire life I am seen as a living burden, outcast to everyone. Charging in battle with nothing to lose, a meaningful blade in my hands forged by my long-lost beloved. I march forward to stare death in the eyes, to finally see the one I love, in the heavenly skies.

    Blood spilled, iron against iron collide, where the song of battle is filled with singing steel, until finally something pierced my heart. Slowly falling with a great smile upon my face, whispering…

    “I shall see you soon my love, for I shall now close my eyes, meet you as the gates of heaven arrives.”

    Finally, arrived to only see an abomination with my own eyes, there was no heaven at all, but only a God who consume the souls of all who died, Hearing the voice of my love in great agony within its stomach, I went with my senses and charged forward to help something that I am not sure, is still my wife. Before I can even reach the belly of the beast, I was struck down with great light coming from its eyes, for I was awake again within the rotting lifeless body of mine…

    “It was all lies! All those prayers! The pain I endured to be worthy and to be with my wife for eternity… LIES!”

    Corpse turned into an unholy beast, blade engulf with darkness, kept long within, with trembling voice, soldiers stared upon me…

    “My wife is no more, Heaven doesn’t exist… I was denied death… the freedom I seek… I am stuck here with these filthy meat bags who call themselves humans! I shall cleanse this world with blood for that EVEN GODS WILL FALL ON MY WAKE!”

    I marched forward swinging my once noble blade, as their puny flesh tears away, my claws ripped out their spines and with my fist I shattered their ribs. I was declined true death, peace… If I cannot have it, I shall bring it to everyone else!

  6. Raiden Frost Avatar
    Raiden Frost

    “Curse of the Undying”
    By Raiden Frost

    In this war, I finally can meet my end, for my entire life I am seen as a living burden, outcast to everyone. Charging in battle with nothing to lose, a meaningful blade in my hands forged by my long-lost beloved. I march forward to stare death in the eyes, to finally see the one I love, in the heavenly skies.

    Blood spilled, iron against iron collide, where the song of battle is filled with singing steel, until finally something pierced my heart. Slowly falling with a great smile upon my face, whispering…

    “I shall see you soon my love, for I shall now close my eyes, meet you as the gates of heaven arrives.”

    Finally, arrived to only see an abomination with my own eyes, there was no heaven at all, but only a God who consume the souls of all who died, Hearing the voice of my love in great agony within its stomach, I went with my senses and charged forward to help something that I am not sure, is still my wife. Before I can even reach the belly of the beast, I was struck down with great light coming from its eyes, for I was awake again within the rotting lifeless body of mine…

    “It was all lies! All those prayers! The pain I endured to be worthy and to be with my wife for eternity… LIES!”

    Corpse turned into an unholy beast, blade engulf with darkness, kept long within, with trembling voice, soldiers stared upon me…

    “My wife is no more, Heaven doesn’t exist… I was denied death… the freedom I seek… I am stuck here with these filthy meat bags who call themselves humans! I shall cleanse this world with blood for that EVEN GODS WILL FALL ON MY WAKE!”

    I marched forward swinging my once noble blade, as their puny flesh tears away, my claws ripped out their spines and with my fist I shattered their ribs. I was declined true death, peace… If I cannot have it, I shall bring it to everyone else!

    1. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      This is so good. I’m amazed you were able to fit this whole scene in under 350 words. You hit all the emotional points, the pacing is lovely, and this is an excellent setup for a good villain character. Lowkey kind of reminds me of the setup for Thor Love and Thunder. Great job as always!

      1. Raiden Frost Avatar
        Raiden Frost

        Thank you for your kind words, this inspires me to continue writing :’)

  7. Adam Eaton Avatar
    Adam Eaton

    The Last Sentinel
    by Flamekin

    I was hardly aware of myself as I walked up those long steps, only saw the center of this long spiral inwards still far above me. The grey stone steps which had once looked almost mirror-like in their sharp-edged perfection now hung crumbling and ragged high in the air. The last I had seen them, they had stood lofty above the heathen earth as a sign to those below of the power their creators held, now they seem an extension of it. A blasphemous root curling out of the ground to the heavens, to the palace at its center. That diadem of the world, the palace of my Master, stood just as derelict, just as empty.

    When I, in a haze was finally able to make it to the door, I found it ajar. Not that it being closed would have mattered, as the intricately carved arching doorway was the only section of the wall still standing. I ran my hands along the carving, the gently falling rain masking the tear streaks that I would have left on those beloved stones.

    As I walk farther into the palace, each step became harder against the fear of what I would find in that holiest of sanctums. I stumbled into the throne room and my knees gave way as I crossed the threshold. At the end of that long corridor, the once mighty and glorious place where I had lived my life at the feet of my beloved Master, His throne lay strewn and broken in pieces. I crawled closer, but only until I glimpsed that too familiar corpse slumped against the wall, the killing blade still embedded.

    I can feel the fire that burned within my soul dying. My purpose dead, wasted, and there is nothing left for me here. Everything that had kept me tied to this world, everything that had given it meaning, has been destroyed.

    Is there enough to call me human?

    Is there even enough left to call me alive?

    1. Sniperaxiom Avatar
      Sniperaxiom

      It’s really interesting that this character ties his humanity to purpose! The entire story feels very sad. The description of the door is done very longingly. All the descriptions in this story in face mirror the horrible sadness and longing of the character.

      You did a good job using this promt!

  8. At the end of time, under the dying sun.
    [Alternative title: (there are) no longer (any) human(s left) ]
    by Pryzma

    You sit here under the rays of the dying sun. The earth is scorched, the water is no more. Only the red skies crying the bloody anthem of end.
    You’ve been there since the beginning. Since the first time the universe has awoken and looked at itself with the eyes of many many creatures. It’s been a long time since these naive times. The sentience of this world is lost, and you are the only thing left. Strangled in your own pathetic immortality. But not for long.

    You’ve seen civilisation rise and fall. You’ve seen countless cycles of death and rebirth. Extinctions, radiations, diversification. You’ve seen hairless apes painting their first pictures in caves. You’ve seen how they made gods in the image of their own. You’ve heard stories they passed from mouth to mouth, even long after they made no sense to them. Context lost in time. Stories older than their own species and tales of other hominids before they were the only one left.

    You’ve seen the rise of the new life made of silica and circuits, and the empire they’ve build. One step up in the history of life. But even that wasn’t enough.
    Now it’s nothing. You are nothing.
    Well… you are Death itself, actually.
    You exists as long as life do. And when there’s nothing left to die, there would be no point of you as well.
    You feel the rusty dirt under your fingers. Last microbes are dying underneath.
    Is it the end? Will this be your end as well?
    Or maybe, just maybe, you will be reborn in the remote corner of the galaxy.
    And the universe will look at itself once again.

  9. No More
    By Fvn:)

    “All things have a cost, child.” A mechanical hum vibrated throughout the shop, filling it with an unceasing sense of motion. Ardno could feel his body tremor as he lay in the chair anticipating what the Mechan priest would say next. “We all must be ready to pay, when our time comes.”

    The gag left Ardno was left without room to speak and he could only grumble and whine as the mechan looked down on him through its cold dead eyes. He had trouble believing something so monstrous could have been flesh and bone once, that it used to be human. Now it was trapped in a prison of cold, living steel, devoid of anything vaguely human.

    “Be not afraid, soon fear will be beneath you.” The mechan’s voice chriped in its electric tone. “You shall soon ascend as we did before you.” Ardno felt a needle pierce his skin and soon his body grew numb. The feeling of ice crept through his veins, heart and then his brain. Last thing he saw was the mechan’s cold eyes staring down at him as he slowly lost consciousness and the process of transformation began.

    A jolt of sensation stirred Ardno awake, drawing forth all of his senses at once and causing him to lash out wildly on the table. His mind steadied and he began to feel a humming and shaking about his body. He peered down and could make out the metallic contours of his body, made anew in cold, living steel. He could still feel the stagnant air through his metallic skin and deep in his head a voice reached out towards his thoughts.

    “Made anew, you are now free from the prison of your own flesh.” Ardno mind races, braced with a new level of sensation he could not comprehend and in his blistering thoughts he felt the voice come over him once more. He could feel others move around him, their thoughts breeching deeper into his mind. “Now you are free.” Ardno rose from the table and turned toward his fellow mechan a human no more.

    1. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      I really like how you made the prompt about not physically being human anymore. Not too many folks did that. It brings into question what makes a human, a physical form or mental abilities. This is a really fun take on the prompt. Good job

  10. “New Body. Who This?” (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    Sol looked at the results of the tests, which gave him more questions than answers. “And she was just wandering down the street?”

    “That’s what the officer said,” Nighthawk answered, taking a notebook out of his pocket. “Yeah. He stopped her to see if she was okay, said she appeared drunk or otherwise disoriented. That’s when he noticed the words moving through her skin, and then the fairy got in his face.”

    “Right, about the fairy. It didn’t try to interfere?”

    “No. It just insisted on staying with her.”

    “So it definitely talks?” Sol asked, going back to the police report.

    “Yeah. It asked the officer if they were a friend, and if they wanted to play.”

    “And the incident with the bench?”

    “He got them to move out of the street and onto a bench at a bus stop. When he came back from making the call, they were playing game, using pieces that looked like they were made out of the same stuff as the bench.”

    “They WERE made from the bench. Did they tell you what game it was?”

    “No, just that it looked like a game, and the two played three rounds of it before Crystal Moth and I arrived. The officer didn’t recognize the pieces or any rules.”

    “Can you describe what happened in this second incident?”

    “No better than what I wrote. She was sitting in the waiting room and she was looking through the magazines when suddenly the room was full of paper butterflies. Nobody saw her do anything. But when Crystal put a barrier around her, she panicked and…broke the barrier.”

    He sighed and set the report down, before walking into the exam room with the strange girl.

    Rainbow haired, golden eyed, and skin white as paper, she sat looking at her hands; eyes following the words as they moved through her skin. Where. Why. What.

    She looked up at him, and smiled. The words changed. Friend. Help. Scared.

    “Are you friend?”

    He looked at her for a moment. Then answered, “Sure.”

    “What am I?”

    “Human, as far as we can tell.”

    1. MasaCur Avatar
      MasaCur

      Wow, this is interesting. Is this Scribe? Like maybe not an origin story, but a first appearance? I’m still working my way around some of the characters in your story.
      I do really like the sort of investigatory sterileness of the way the events get reported between Nighthawk and Sol. It does come off as a police report in a way. Which I suppose it should. Just that the way the events transpire are very superhuman.
      The last line, that she’s human, as far as they can tell is pretty curious as well.
      Anyway, thought it was a very cool and fun story to read, Mako.

    2. I am very curious what’s going on here lol. It reminds me that I’m familiar with Scribe but I don’t actually know too much about her in the sense that this is clearly her. But I don’t know if this is how she showed up or if something happens later on and she loses her memory. I’m leaning towards the former since it seems that no one knows who she is or how her powers work.

      That said, this was done very well. It’s very easy to follow what’s going on and its intriguing to hear the very playful events of what happened in such a serious way. And of course the ending was fricking adorable and immediately endears you to her.

      Only real critiques I have are two grammar things.

      “Yeah. I(t) asked the officer if they were a friend, and if they wanted to play.”

      “…When he came back from making the call, they were playing (a) game,…”

    3. I love that there is no context for the re-ordering of reality here. Like, is it same shit different day? Is it something that the news won’t shut up about for three years? We can’t tell. The officers are treating it as just another damn thing, so it just happens to be another damn thing in context.

      I’m pretty sure that we’ve met this lady with words on her skin in an earlier story. The bad news is that I have a mind like a steel sieve and can’t remember more than that.

      Sorry.

    4. Raiden Frost Avatar
      Raiden Frost

      Dragons <3 always fascinates me

  11. Human in my mind
    By Vera

    “As a human, I have the right to refuse military service based on religious or moral grounds”

    “The law you’re citing doesn’t apply to AI powered weapons”

    Abigail, or Valkyrie, as the military insisted on calling her, didn’t know what to answer. Her whole life, she never considered the possibility of being anything but a human. No one questioned her humanity, the topic simply never came up.

    She breathed the air like everyone around her. How was she supposed to notice, that I instead of the oxygen, she used nitrogen?

    She ate and drank, and her body disposed of unused material in the toilet. No one had ever considered the possibility, that her waste was perfectly edible for humans, lacking some of the more toxic and dangerous components of human waste.

    Then came the military. They discovered that her cells were nanotechnology created in a secret lab and stolen decades prior. Abigail didn’t have a single organic cell in her body. How her cells managed to generate power and matter from her human diet was a mystery that didn’t interest the military in the slightest.

    All they were interested was Abigail’s ability to go to one of their many conflict areas and kill as many enemy soldiers, as possible. If she killed a civilian or two, no one would care. If it couldn’t be proven, it didn’t happen. If it could, it was a regrettable error.

    Abigail was hiding alone in an abandoned building. She couldn’t expect anyone to help her. Humans have an intrinsic sense of humanity. They somehow know, their human. So logically, Abigail should know that she isn’t. Not telling her human friends was seen as a betrayal.

    Except, she lacked this feeling. Instead, she had an assumption mistaken for her sense of humanity, that made her see herself as human. How could she explain this, without feeling more removed from who she thought she was?

    She couldn’t even convince herself that nothing changed, that she hasn’t been a human for a single day in her life.

    For in her mind, she was still human. In a way

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      There is a lot of interesting things about this story. I love the whole thing about a synthetic being not knowing it is synthetic, and that being seem by others as a kind of deceit. Also, the whole idea about having one sense of self broken, though functionally all that really changed was knowing the opinions of others. That’s a powerful theme. And overall, it reminds me of Philip K. Dick ‘s Electric Ant, so I was already hooked.

      There are some minors (probably typing) problems that could be easily solved. Just to point out the ones I caught: 1. there is an “I” that shouldn’t be there on the sentence that talks about her breathing nitrogen. 2.In the line “No one had ever considered the possibility, that her waste was perfectly edible for humans”, that comma is misplaced. 3 In the sentence “They somehow know, their human;”, it should have been they’re. 4. And lastly, there is a full stop lacking at the very end.

      Okay, those are really minor. What I really liked about the text was that it at never seems to stray from Abigail’s point of view, and she seems to at once both recognized there is no functional difference between her and other humans, but also second-guess herself in thinking that if all humans have a sense of they being human, and she doing as well… well, that’s ’cause she is human. Or defective. Or what else? Do they really feel that?

      The whole discussion was great, and very thought provoking.

      Great tale there!

    2. “AI powered weapons”
      Now there’s a phrase that slaps you straight across the face and makes you angry (in a good way, don’t worry)
      It’s an interesting take on the prompt, instead of a change that happened to the protagonist, it’s the perception her surroundings have of her that has changed.
      Turning the prompt in its head ^^ I like it.
      I do wonder where she came from and why no one knew what she was, answering it would probably have gotten you far over the word limit.
      It’s still a nice question to ponder
      Keep up the good work ^^

      1. In fact, I have no definite origin for Abigail, rather different conflicting stories told by people who want her to be a certain way, or fear that she is something (like an AI powered weapon in this case)

  12. Zotz Ku Avatar
    Zotz Ku

    Blood Reign
    by Zotz Ku

    Clouds descended as the last drops of blood fell from my heart onto the ash-covered stone. I laid my human eyes one last time on my little brother, Gabor, who had fallen onto his knees grasping my dying heart. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and I tried to comfort him as I fought through the pain.

    The ashes of our burning village were drenched in blood by my last words, “They will die.”

    Violent waves of pain exploded out from the hole in my chest, reverberating on my hands and feet held in place by golden chains. The golden cuffs holding me down and burying into my skin had been crafted to hold down jaguars. One final wave raced from my chest through my throat and culminated in a furious howl. Darkness engulfed my eyes.

    My human teeth erupted out of my mouth replaced by what I can only describe as serrated blades. The men were miles away, but I could hear their malicious laughter as if they were standing beside me, and a single whiff of ash-ridden air was enough to carry the rough stench of alcohol in their breath. The golden chains, my father had said were strong enough to hold down gods, shattered the moment my hands and legs jerked to life. Light flooded into my eyes and all the colors adorning Gabor shined bright through the ashes that embraced him. His pupils glimmered a deep black I had never appreciated and stared at me with horror so deep it pierced his heart.

    I should have burned with our people.

    The ritual demanded a sacrifice. I willingly gave my body, but the gods demanded my brother’s blood. My body was not my own, possessed by powers I couldn’t comprehend. I filled the hole in my chest with Gabor’s still beating heart. The ritual was complete, and my body had the power to destroy legions, but I didn’t so much as flinch when my brother’s lifeless head bounced on the stone floor.

    They will die…

  13. Fasutini Avatar
    Fasutini

    Birth of the beast

    By Faustini

    Brown patches of dried blood blemished sticks that once were my fingers. I was gazing into myself and I could see places into which darkness of void was slowly trickling in.

    But I wasn’t always like this. I used to be just like you until Fate threw sticks under my legs and left me crooked and broken. Only to raise once again, misshapen and gnarled. No longer powered by food and water, but by other forms of sustenance. I fed myself on fear and flesh of innocents.

    It wasn’t all roses and sunshine. I was hunted for what I became, as if I could control that. They gouged chunks of flesh and bones out of me and I filled that emptiness with the Void, sticks and bones of my prey.

    I probably could stand in the middle of the field as a scarecrow and not attract attention. But that was not in my nature. I wasn’t one to stay idle and just fiddle my thumbs. I seeked excitement and explanation for what happened to me.

    I wasn’t a scarecrow. I was the boogeyman that was lurking in the shadows of dark alleys.

    A sudden shriek attracted my attention. Woman was running down the street, screaming. Feral grin was plastered on my face.

    Night was great for the hunt. I would make them suffer and maybe some of them will become someone like me.

    No longer human.

  14. Jack Smith Avatar
    Jack Smith

    Athazagoraphobia

    By Jack Smith

    As the waves crashed against the rocky sea, the man stood by the cliff, watching, he did not wish for death, nor life, he just wished for someone to remember his stryfe. so he ran and ran, until the bells chime, for the blink of an eye, he watched the world die, for he was no hero, nor poet, he was a villain, and he wanted to show it.

  15. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    A Demon’s Sense of Humor
    by Aracnarquista

    Call me inhuman. I won’t argue with that, but I do take issue with the reasoning behind it. Don’t worry, though. I won’t blame you.

    It is just how things are, really. I should know.

    In fact, I do know.

    I have absolute causal knowledge, after all. The whole universe unveils itself to me in all its intricacies. I can follow how phenomena develop through time in either direction. Past and future are just addresses, frozen in a perfect still picture… or rather, a perfect still choreography. With sufficient knowledge of past or future conditions, I’d be able to calculate your current opinions.

    Well, putting things like that is imprecise. I’d not be able to. I’d be compelled to. You see, absolute causal knowledge does not allow me to sidestep the deterministic dance, after all.

    But back to the matter of my inhumanity, as you so eloquently put it. If I’m not mistaken – and trust me, I am not (I wouldn’t be able to) -, you call me inhuman due to the pact I’ve made with that demon, and the supposed subsequent loss of my soul. But here’s the funny thing: when I traded my soul for absolute causal knowledge, the first thing I noticed was that there was never such a thing as a soul. So logically, it is not on the grounds of its lack that you are right to call me inhuman.

    That, of course, leaves us with a question: if souls were never legal tender to begin with, what has that demon gained from the exchange? The deterministic reasoning says the demon was as compelled to participate in that commerce as I was. But I can’t help but wonder – know – that humor is not lost on those bound by the rules of the inexorable march of necessity.

    Anyway, due to my particular relation with causality, I may be considered inhuman. The way I see it, humanity is an emerging property that can only sustain itself due to a sense of indeterminacy – even if an illusory one.

    Not that it changes anything, really.

    1. First I want to tell you that I always like your stories, even if I don’t comment; but they’re always very well written and usually trigger some thinking in one way or another.

      And this one’s no exception. As someone who’s got a very analytical brain already, the idea to have someone form a pact with a demon to gain something like superior logic is very intriguing. As is that thought of “how much of this makes you inhuman”, since people like me tend to seem a little robotic at times (I would know, as I was already compared to one on more than one or two occasions).

      And on top of it, the way this story is told also seems quite analytical, without much feeling. So, good job!
      Thank you for writing and sharing this.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot!
        This was an interesting one to write, since I’ve been writing some other things (more essays than fiction, though) that approach the idea of superdeterminism as explored here… though without demons (as far as I know…).
        And, well, I often wonder on what exactly is being described when we use these categories (human/inhuman), and how they tend to be a lot more rhetorical than analytic ones. So taking an analytical character and putting it in the center of such a debate seemed interesting.
        And that comment about liking my stories and finding invitations for certain musings in them makes me really happy! It is that that makes me keep writing each week!

        Thanks a lot!

    2. Oh really? I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 1 million. What is it?

      So, again, you have impressed me. Again, very thought provoking. AGAIN, learned some new words and concepts. And you will do it AGAIN in the future.

      As defined as this is on the inexistence of souls and the mirth of demons, it makes me think that the demon could’ve easily tricked them into thinking that they won’t be owned by the demon when they die. But the logic gives me Death Note vibes, like they were easing each other’s boredom and curiosity.

      I think there’s a downside of causal knowledge. Because it sounds like they gave up the ability to be surprised.

      Maybe that’s what the demon got in return was the entertainment of watching someone be enamored for a brief time, and then realize how boring it is to predict and know everything, thus driving them to suicide, and giving the demon what they wanted and already attained when they made that deal.

      As for the inhuman part, I agree with the narrator that the absence of a soul doesn’t stop you from being human. But since a SOUL has many interpretations, I doubt they really know if a soul exists since demon magic and souls can’t be explained by science. There’s no study or experiments for souls. So this could easily go the demon’s way again.

      And whoever called the narrator inhuman didn’t realize the hypocrisy that inhumanity only exists because of humanity. Everything that is done inhumanely is committed by a human. Also it’s worth mentioning that the narrator is living a very human moment by being curious, acting on that curiosity, and experiencing the outcome.

      The conclusion of the narrator I think drives my point home. They’ve basically explained what they lost in the end by pointing out that humanity relies on being flawed. And we do! It’s boring to have all the answers.

      And, philosophically speaking, I personally believe that if problems and flaws didn’t exist to counter solutions and strengths then nothing would exist. And this character ruined that by eliminating themselves of problems and flaws to attain something that many would call perfection.

      But our perspective of perfect is warped. It’s not defined by the absence of obstacles. It’s a subjective answer. And, in my opinion, life is perfect by how it all affects one another. The need and ability to accommodate each other, giving what we can and taking what we need. The imperfection that makes life perfect.

      Okay. I’m gonna take some sandpaper and make my brain smooth, because I wanna stop thinking now. Take my like! TAKE IT!!!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Well, there is something to be said when the comment manages to be (I guess, I didn’t check on the word count, but it seems so) longer than the story itself! I take THAT as a compliment as well!

        And keeping the conversation going… I really find it fascinating how some word choices might prime some readings. If I had changed the “demon” to a “genie” or maybe just an “all-powerful spirit”, perhaps the idea of it needing to gain something from the exchange wouldn’t be so strong. And, in fact, the reason I wrote demon was three-fold: the whole soul trade thing points to a demon; the whole idea was thinking on the concept of the original daemons (which are spirits that convey the forces of the fates and the gods to the natural phenomena, so they are more akin to the whole concept of causality – even if a supernatural one – than spiritual other-worldliness); and, finally, it was a pun on Laplace’s Demon (the whole idea of being able to predict absolutely every state of matter in every point in time with sufficient data and analytical power – i.e., absolute causal knowledge).

        And maybe he just had a sense of humor as well. I don’t know, I am not a specialist in demons.

        Though I do agree that life without surprise would be boring (and, well, some sort of fatalism was the tone I was going for, but trying to mix it with a bit of humor… perhaps a more humor-lead Dr. Manhattan was what I had in mind).

        On the matter of souls… perhaps those are, as humanity, an emerging property (I’ve dealt with this idea in other stories, though mostly I avoid the entire concept). From a very causal point-of-view, they aren’t even phenomena, since they are more like a collection of possible elements that as a collection has some predictive quality, but is not in itself the result or the cause of anything (those can be analyzed in minutia as the constitutive elements of it).

        Anyway, all that discussion because I was engaged with the comment. To sum it up: thank you a lot for the thoughts and the kind words!

    3. This is a joy to read, it’s so snarky, like getting lectured by “supernatural skerlock holmes” only he feels insulted and will explain to you at lengths why you are wrong. If there’s something I would have like to see it’s some sort of framing; where does the scene take place? who is this “demon” addressing?
      Right now I imagine him sitting by himself in a library with empty shelves and a glass of scotch cause he knows everything already so he doesn’t need books, but the ambience feels about right.
      It’s a solid monologue, but it doesn’t feel like a “scene” quite yet (at least to me).
      It is however a very philosophical sounding speech that gets a solid “condescending vibe” across, which I enoy immensely
      keep up the good work ^^

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Being completely frank, I hadn’t thought at all in the context in which that conversation would happen. I just need an interlocutor so that the whole argumentation style would work. But I’m very sold in this library with empty shelves and a drink – in fact, this scenario needs to come back in some story, it is just too evocative and brilliant not to!

        And yeah, I have struggled with some stories where I think I have a solid idea, though not necessarily a solid story, and then I choose to focus on the argument rather than the scene. It is something I need to learn how to balance better, since my last pieces mostly went the way of the monologue.

        Thanks a lot for the comment! I’ll try to incorporate the criticism in the next pieces!

        1. Perhaps “zooming out” and asking “why is this scene happening?” could help in that respect. When I get stuck on a story or am unsure of whether something works I’ll just start shooting questions in its general direction until I have a well-enough understanding of it to move on.

          The empty library + drink combo is a gift 😉 use it however you please ^^

          Also if you have longer/different work aside these prompt-stories and need feedback feel free to tag me in the foundry or send me a dm =D

    4. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      In summary: I understand why you don’t consider me human, but let me explain why you’re stupid for that.

      This person’s lengthy intellectual rant complete with verbal flourishes and little side notes is great. He’s basically rambling, with all the little qualifiers and hints at entire worlds of information that branch from every sentence. You captured that brilliantly here.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Hehehehe. Exactly. Though I don’t think stupid would be the word, after all the interlocutor has no fault. In fact, he has no choice. It was predetermined since forever that he would think like that (as was the whole conversation and how it would go in this way – I had a line saying that, but I had to cut it down due to the word limit). but… yeah, even if none of them have any choice in the matter, condescension is still the tone of the whole thing, hehehe.

        Thanks a lot!

    5. VulpesRose Avatar
      VulpesRose

      I love how you’ve captured this voice of a sort of resigned superiority. It feels like a difficult voice to capture, especially in a way that isn’t entirely insufferable, but I think you’ve managed it beautifully.

      I enjoy the concession that the narrator may actually be inhuman, but that they want to be very clear that its not by the metrics the accuser is using. Like, okay, you might be right, but not for the reasons you think you are, so first let’s define all the relevant terms, and break down your argument and then I can agree with your overall point. Feels very much like a teacher breaking down how a student got the answer right, but that they worked the problem completely wrong, so we really need to go over that, because showing the proper work is important.

      There’s just so much to like here! I love the idea that souls aren’t even a thing, but that this demon may have done this more or less as a joke, like, hey guys, watch me really mess with this human! And the idea that humans need to think we have control in order to be human is so interesting, and I wonder if the other party in this conversation could perhaps lose some of their own humanity if they themselves buy into this idea (even without the absolute knowledge).

      This is a fascinating look at a character and it makes my brain wonder what they were like before they gained this knowledge and how it has changed them.

      So many vibes with this one. Excellent work, as always!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot! That’s very good to hear, that was exactly the vibe of the voice I was going for. And although there were some challenges in capturing it, it wasn’t as hard as I first thought – there is something to these kind of characters that are easier to put to paper than others (perhaps the whole idea of embodying them for the time of the writing helps in dealing with the inner critique!).

        And the whole thing about knowledge and a certain point-of-view not only being the trait here taken as inhuman, but also something that could be shared or acquired… I’m really glad you got it. That’s part of what I found interesting about the idea, and I wanted it to be a bit clearer (though we all have to deal with the dreaded word count).

        Thanks a lot for the comment!

  16. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
    Sprig NoRoots

    Rotting at The Roots
    By Sprig NoRoots

    Sweat binds our fingers together as we run from the guards. Marly breathes heavily. Her pulse beats in sync with my own. Shouts echo around us. I risk falling and look at Marly. She smiles as our eyes meet. Her eyes crinkled with the same gentle mischief they did all those nights; we would sneak out. Her lips were raised in a half-amused laugh just as they would after we stole kisses. Our fingers are intertwined, for the first time where others can see us. Slender, feminine fingers intertwine in a cage that holds our affection.

    Branches snap louder. Figures dart between trees as they flank us. We run further than I’ve gone before. Marly lags behind me by half a step, letting me lead. We plow through shrubbery and roots with no end in sight, but then there it was—a looming end for us. A cliff face stares down at us as the guard close in. I put myself between Marly and the cliff but never let go of her hand. A witch emerges from between the trees. Chains drag her towards us. A witch’s mask covers her face, but her eyes convey her horror. She raises her hands, and lights gather around us in a blinding flare. Marly pulls me close, protecting me one last time, but it’s not enough.

    My skin shifts in a hypnotic pattern, my legs expand and bury themselves, and my fingers glue permanently to Maryl’s. Colors turn from me as my vision is stolen. My body stretches and twists with Marly. We stand there together. A tree twisted preternaturally as an example for all. Time confuses itself in a looping pattern. Emotions ebb away as they slip back to the world of the free-willed. Marly is the only constant; we twist tightly together, not quite herself and not quite me. Rain traces our silhouette. Frogs, bugs, and birds take refuge in us. We stand for what we love. For what could have been. And here we will stand until our roots rot.

    1. Oooookaaay. Somehow it’s not what I expected. I don’t know what I expected but not that. I guess I have forgotten what the prompt was. Like first few paragraphs describe quite an emotional escape and then… Well this. Damn the description of them merging was quite macabre for me. For a moment I thought they will become lump of flesh, so I guess the tree is nicer option

    2. Raiden Frost Avatar
      Raiden Frost

      I do love the details on the transformation, it gives you a strong perspective and a lovely vision of it through imagination

  17. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
    Sprig NoRoots

    (the discussion board glitched. This is a repost of the same story)

  18. A tale of love and death
    By Pumpkin

    Pain
    It’s the first sensation that floods what’s left of my rotting brain.

    There’s light beyond my eyes but it swims and swirls in odd formations. Colours dancing without meaning.

    I lift a heavy arm through what feels like water and encounter cold glass as I reach into the slurry of colours.

    Then my ears pick up sounds saying, “My darling.” and “you’re alive at last.”

    I don’t feel alive.
    The voice hints at a past I’m no longer a part of.
    My wife.

    I open my mouth and try to say her name but the liquid that keeps me suspended burns in my throat.

    “Don’t speak!” she sounds alarmed. “I’ll get you out of there don’t worry but…you need more healing before that.”

    I want to tell her she can’t heal that which is already dead, that which is no longer connected to this realm, but I can’t.
    I’m stuck.

    I can’t even see her face, not properly, everything is distorted in this oversized fish tank.

    I push at the glass, try to break it, try to break free from this prison but I have no strength in my limbs.
    I’m forced to wait.
    So, I wait.

    Sometimes the water turns pink and I sleep, I dream of death and the freedom of nothingness. But when I wake, I’m locked up again.
    Sometimes I can guess what she did, a new graph of muscle tissue attached to the peeling bone, a new organ she pulled from who-knows-where.
    Sometimes it’s a mystery and I search my body for scars for days at a time.

    Then one time my eyes shoot open and there is no liquid, nothing stopping me from screaming.

    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I hear her panicked voice “You’re not supposed to be awake.

    I turn my face to look at her and find to my surprise her face is crumpled, wrinkled and weathered.

    “How long…?” I gasp.

    “Shhhh. Don’t speak.” She tells me as she puts a needle in my neck “Just sleep.”

    I want to tell her this is madness, this is cruel.
    Then everything fades.

    1. Sniperaxiom Avatar
      Sniperaxiom

      OOO! I love how eerie this story feels while reading it! Everything so little is concrete, not much is known, by the reader or character. It really works here! You did a really good job, sorry I don’t have too much to say.

      1. Thank you for the kind words, don’t worry about have “not much to say” every comment is a joy to read and I’m grateful you took the time to leave a reply ^^

    2. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      I really like the twist at the end that she’d aged noticeably, that a tremendous amount of time had passed. . . It adds a great bit of dread to the story, that him ‘recovering’ is almost meaningless, or even worse than dying, if it’ll take ages.

      I also like the shared dread of not knowing. . . The main character doesn’t know what happened to him, and so neither do we. Less is more here, explaining what had occurred would be unnecessary, maybe even detrimental to the story and not as impactful as the unknown nature of it.

      Him being trapped with his thoughts and being unable to make a sound reminded me of Harlan Ellison: “I have no mouth, and I must scream.”

      1. Thank you for the kind words ^^
        I’m glad to hear the lack of clarity had the desired effect ^^
        I haven’t read “I have no mouth and I must scream” but now you leave me intrigued XD

    3. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      I love this. The way you convey the frustration of not only the main character but also the love interest is very compelling. It reminds me of stories I’ve read with characters that have chronic illnesses, not the same treatment of course, but with the same anxiety and frustration. You did a lovely job. Keep up the good work 🙂

      1. Thank you for the kind words, I didn’t think of that parallel before you pointed it out but that’s very interesting. Tho I’m very glad the treatments are different in those stories ^^

    4. Faustini Avatar
      Faustini

      I love pure eeriness of the story, the moment of realization when tou are on the ice, until someone tries to play a god and resurrect you and you have no control voer when it happens.

      1. Thank you for the kind words ^^

    5. Zotz Ku Avatar
      Zotz Ku

      I like how the story frames the passing of time through the narrator occasionally waking up with a new organ or scar. A prisoner, unable to rest while the wife prolongs the torture and loses her humanity in the process even though she probably believes her actions come from love.

      1. Thank you for the kind words
        I like to think she loves her wife very much and doesn’t realise that what she’s doing is an absolute atrocity ^^

    6. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I read it before, and chose not to comment since I was out of words. And I came back to it to see if I could squeeze them and say how much I found this brilliant, but tough luck. Still no words. That’s just too amazing for me to convey the impressions through this medium. So just imagine a reader sitting in contemplating, silently nodding and with that particular glint in the eyes one got when a story will follow it for days. That’s a fair description of how I felt yesterday, and I managed to replicate the exact same scene in my second reading.

      The desperation, the parallelism between the characters (how the feelings are strong enough that even if one can’t do anything about it, it seems like the other is equally trapped in the tragedy, unable to fight what compels her to keep doing what she is doing…). I really can’t put it into words. That was this good.

      1. Thank you for the kind words ^^ this comment made my day =D

    7. Ooooooooooo! Now this! This! Is the kind of thriller that leaves you with questions and a very stimulated imagination trying to fill in the blanks with no solid answer. Chef’s kiss.

      I like the garnish of escapism that the character has no choice but to partake in. Being trapped between a dream that embodies their current desire, and waking up occasionally to see random body parts be pulled from nowhere, and no grasp of time is one hell of kick when waking up in far future.

      Next thing you know, your wife is panicking, and OLD, AND TELLING YOU “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

      MARGARET?! ARE GROWING MY ORGANS AND SELLING THEM?!

      I have no idea what ethics of science are being violated, I’m just gonna say YES.

      This was excellent! Take my THUMBS UP that I totally didn’t steal from somebody to give to somebody.

  19. Matheus Ribeiro Assis
    Human Illusion

    “…My body… where is it? I can’t feel anything… where am I?”

    “Hi! you’re nowhere in particular, and also everywhere.”

    “Wait… I can’t hear you, neither I can localize or perceive you, yet we can “communicate?”!! Who/What are you?”

    “I’m a monk… “WAS” a monk, sorry, there’s also no time here, it’s normal that we get confused about “time”, I used to have the name Yeshe Trungpa, nice to meet you”

    “A monk? And you said “we”? There are others here… yes… I can feel them… no… I just “know” they’re here, yet this is no place, I can’t sense nothing”

    “We are in nirvana, friend. This is no place, it’s a state of “being”, something between existence/non-existence. What you call “conscience” here it’s not a continuous entity. Here there is no true consciousness, neither there is any aggregate of feelings, thoughts, emotions, sensations and mental constructs, just note that you are not attached to any kind of “feeling” you’re having right now, there is nothing you want. Here we are free from all shackles of existence, there is only ‘this’, it’s infinite bliss. But tell me, how did you arrived here without knowing you would end up here?”

    “Oh god…. I thought that Nirvana was just a myth. When alive I’ve practiced a lot of meditation, yoga and that kind of stuff, to a point…”

    “A point when the voice in your head ceased and there was only the present moment and bliss. This is Nirvana with aggregates”

    “Yes… but I lived in a time when this was just seen as an optimization of the mind, not something “mystic”. But this means… I’m not human anymore, right? I’m not bound by feelings, emotions… and also I don’t have a sense of “purpose”, I “feel” whole, rather I AM whole… yes… you’re right, this “feels” awesome!”

    “This is the absolute reality, there was never something as “being” human, in fact, that illusion was what made us suffer, when volition arose, then embodiment arose, and the illusion began. You are free now”.

  20. The Lich Remembers (a tale from Gaea)
    by Taehl

    The desiccated thing climbed into a tree and waited, corpselike. It no longer needed food nor water, no longer slept nor bled. It could wait for months.

    It used to have a name, when it was alive, but no words have moved its tongue in over three hundred years. It still writes theories and logs in the language the human colonists used, though no living being could read them now. It still remembers watching Earth being devoured while they fled. It used to be a physicist. It used to like drinking coffee while reading email in the morning. But no coffee grows here. They never got to solve germination of terrestrial plants in alien soil. It used to be friends with several of the molecular biologists who were working on that. It used to have a name, what was it?

    It hopes they remember its name when it finally manages to bring them all back. Tests had consistently shown those crossing the life/death barrier retain their memories. Maybe subjectively, it will be like they never left.

    The cities are all ruined of course, but those can be rebuilt, it’s just going to be more work without the machines. Except for New Dresden, it reminded itself, which was the epicenter of a vast vitrified desert. It doesn’t remember the sight or sound of nuclear weapons on the calamitous day that humanity was nearly extinguished, and yet that wasteland remains, inscrutable…

    But that’s a problem for another century. Not letting humanity go extinct is all that matters. It’s going to bring them back. All of them. Decades of careful experimentation and study saw the resurrection procedure’s success rate rise to nearly 97%. There were only a few variables left to account for. Except… In hundreds of years of searching the alien underworld, it still hadn’t found them. Millions of people gone, and it hadn’t found a single one of them – only those who had died afterward. What boundless frustration!

    The next experiment calls for a new test subject (alive). One of the native bipeds.

    1. Man… that was wild! You should make a novel out of that story. And if you don’t, you can bet that I will! lol. If there was at least 150 more word on the limit you could have told us what was the phylactery of this Lich. Have you thought about it? What did you had in mind?

      Overall, you creativity was awesome, joining dark fantasy with post-apocaliptic scenary. It even remembers Warhammer a bit.

      1. Thanks! This Lich is so called for its likeness rather than any adherence to traditional rules (like the rest of Gaea), and has no phylactery. Through its experiments and study of that which mediates the flow of life/death in Gaea, it figured out how to remove all the life/death from its own being, making it both un-killable and un-resurrectable. At this point, the only way to get rid of it might be to fling it out into space and hope it doesn’t come back down.

        As a (un)living relic, the Lich’s life story ties into the sci-fi prequel universe as well as some of the deeper mysteries of this one. It’s discovered more about the fabric of this world (and the previous one, ours) than most ever will, but can’t communicate to anyone about it…

        I’m aiming to make more out of my Gaea mythos than just books! 🙂

    2. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      The title fits the story so well and drew me in. I love how you mentioned drinking coffee and reading emails as something the lich used to do. It really humanized the character in just a few sentences. You made a very compelling character with a good backstory. I’d love to read more stories from this character’s POV. Great job!

    3. OOOHHH i absolutely love it! It’s such a smooth read, and the atmosphere is absolutely amazing. Especially that I’m a sucker for “lived so long that has forgotten how to human” motive. And the description of what’s now versus what was before? My scientific-artistic soul is very happy. You have great style of writing, and even with such a limited word count you were able to paint a very vivid picture of your wasteland world in my mind.

  21. Calliope Rannis Avatar
    Calliope Rannis

    The First Night Is Always The Worst (Nyx’s Story)
    By Calliope Rannis

    BA-DUM.

    The noise was enough to throw me from a shallow slumber. I opened my mouth, trying to gasp for air, but my chest caught instead. I tried and tried, until I finally forced my lungs to inflate, and air flowed into my body with a ragged wheeze.

    Gods, had I really just…stopped breathing in my sleep? And I didn’t even notice?

    I clutched my hands to my chest, trying to focus on getting my breathing back to normal. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In-

    BA-DUM.

    I flinched at the noise. A pang of pain spiked from my chest.

    Now I was beginning to hear the sluggish flow of liquid churning through my ears. This room was too damn quiet. And my chest hurt a lot, and my hands felt…wet?

    Oh. I forgot. About my hands.

    I keep trying to forget about their nails. How long and thick they are. How sharp and painful they look.

    I forgot about them, right until I squeezed them a little too hard against my chest, and – fuck, there’s blood all over my hands.

    The sickeningly strong smell reached my nose, and a furious sensation immediately clawed at my throat and stomach. Because that’s the stupid fucking thing. You’d think a – a vam – whatever the hell I am, you’d think, if they want to drink blood – if they need it – they wouldn’t feel hungry looking at their OWN blood, at least?

    But no. They do. I do. I just can’t actually drink it. I can’t let myself give into it. I can’t-

    BA-DUM.

    I want to rip my ears off. Everything is too loud. And while I am at it, why not my eyes, which feel like burning coals in my head whenever I look at anything bright? Why not my nose, which swamps my senses with the smell of blood and sweat and dirt? Why not my tongue, which told them that I WANTED this?

    Just take them all away. Leave me as a stupid smiling skull, in the dark and the quiet.

    Maybe then I’ll get some sleep.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      I could feel the beat and, ouch, it does hurt. A lot. Way to go for making me feel it.

    2. Newborn vamp having newborn vamp issues? Ooof.

      I love the idea that they can hear their own heart and blood flow. They’re not supposed to have that if you lean towards the classics, so it makes sense that it would be more than annoying.

      I have never understood popular media showing vamps hanging out in nightclubs and whatnot with a heavy bassline and a lot of bright, flashing lights. It would be SENSORY HELL for a vamp. Especially one who’s new to the whole deal. I dunno. Maybe it’s noise-that-I-control environment tweaking. Which I have done.

      Autistes and Vamps could likely shake hands on environmental noise conditions.

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      Interesting story Calliope. A good exploration into the various sensory experiences and pain connected with those (also the pain of accidentally driving your nails into your chest in your sleep!) *wince* Plus the urge to drink your own spilled blood was a a really interesting addition to the setup too! Having to resist the urge to do so adds another layer of torment to poor Nyx.

      I liked the touch of her cursing her various excessive senses, especially the mention of her tongue and how she curses it for actually saying that she wanted the vampiric state she is now in. An interesting delve into the sensory hell of new vampire like beings. Well done! 🙂

  22. Connection
    By Curry

    His steps fell heavier than usual, crunching the frozen-over snow with unnecessary force. He couldn’t help it. There was nothing he was doing differently. Yet, it felt strange – as if these feet were not entirely his own. That was irrational. With a sigh, he left the square, treading up the dark marble stairs inside of the royal palace.

    When did walking become such an… experience? For a moment, he regretted not having created a portal to spare himself this dissociative trip. Just earlier today, every move on these grounds had been normal cold routine. It had been easy to forget that something had twisted his perspective on many things.

    Now was different. He was going to spend the evening with his– with someone familiar. Apparently, this made things complicated. Deliberately pushing away the reflex of wanting to define anything about this relationship, he stopped in front of the usual inconspicuous door.

    It wouldn’t have been right to use magic for such a mundane task. Despite his new connections and powers, he wanted to enjoy the evening as the same man he had always been. They had known each other for months. There was nothing to fear, he told himself tensely. After all, they had seen worse.

    Still, his throat felt clogged up. He lifted his hand but instead of knocking, he stared at his gloves. They had become like a second skin, hiding away the gruesome black mark that testified to the deal he had struck. It was horrible. The terrified look of his kids, the way they had shrunken away from just the slightest gentle touch – he choked.

    A blink washed away the blurry vision of his hand softly tapping the door. Quietly, footsteps approached. He would finally feel human for a few hours.

  23. Creeping stone
    By Blinky

    Alice played her game silently while her therapist, Dr. Summers, scribbled on his notepad. Using only her right hand, she touched her thumb to her fingertips. She started with her pointer finger to her pinky and back. 1234321. The doctor said it would help her get used to her new hand. Mostly it just helped pass the time.

    His office was quaint. Eggshell walls and some potted plants littered the room. On his desk was a small water fountain and a few weird art pieces. She sat on a cool green sofa while he sat opposite her on a thin brown chair.

    “Any outbursts this week, Alice?” Dr. Summers finally asked.

    “No.” Alice lied.

    “Alice.” Dr. Summers said disapprovingly.

    “Why ask when you already know?” Her fingers clicked as she focused on the game she played with her right hand. 1234321. She glanced at the door to her left and the clock above it.

    “What caused the incident?” The doctor asked.

    “She wouldn’t shut up.” 1234321.

    “Why do you think that bothered you?”

    “Do you like it when people bug you?” She asked and rolled her eyes. 1234321

    “What did she say in particular that ‘bugged’ you?” The doctor asked.

    The same thing they always say. Alice stared at her right hand. The stone went up to her elbow now. It was at her wrist a month ago. She closed her hand, and the sound of scraping rocks almost cracked her. She felt her eyes well and used her good hand to wipe away her tears. She never liked her right hand anyway. She could learn everything with her left again. They wouldn’t let her cut it. Said it would just grow faster somewhere else.

    “What are you afraid of, Alice?” The doctor asked.

    She was terrified of becoming a monster.

    “Nothing.” She lied. 1234321.

    Dr. Summer rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back into his chair. The clicking of her fingers and the sound of running water were the only noise that filled the office until she opened the door to leave.

    1. This is a really interesting read! I wonder about her illness or rather, about this infection? To me it’s very believable how she reacts to these questions and how she feels about it. Wanting to be self-reliant while also fearing the future, as her body continues to transform without any hope of cure. Also, I like how small descriptions give some personal opinion: ‘plants littered the room’ is something I personally would never say, as I love plants. But to Alice, they seem to be just rubbish. The gimmick of her finger game is a nice stylistic add-on, it helps the pacing, I think! Thank you for that story!

      1. Thank you for reviewing. I think the most important way to define character is in how they describe the world around them.

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      Though it too me a second read to fully understand what was actually going on with her arm and everything, I kind of like the subtlety in how Alice’s condition is communicated. The use of sound does a great job of setting the scene here. Though I like the use of the numbers, depicting her doing her “game,” I think it it would further add to the story and and visually communicate her mood as it changes if you were to add variations to the sequence such as in speed or maybe at one point when she’s cracking she makes a mistake and miscounts. Not that the story is bad without it, I just thought it would be a great way to expand upon it’s narrative use. Overall, great story!

      1. I hadn’t thought of that, but I agree that it would be killer.

    3. Faustini Avatar
      Faustini

      I’ve really enjoyed reading this. I was geeting goosebumps and little flashbacks for this game Alince, return into madness,

      1. Thank you for reading. That game looks sick.

    4. Zotz Ku Avatar
      Zotz Ku

      I like how the pacing of the story helps build up to the reveal of Alice’s condition and her inability to do anything about it, while her interactions with the doctor only make her uncomfortable. Alice’s 1234321 is a very creative way to show her mood without having to spell it out every time.

      1. I’m glad the pacing worked. I was afraid it’s bee too fast. Thank you.

    5. Flamekin Avatar
      Flamekin

      This is super good, I love how the clues to her mental condition are shown in the story, the nervousness, the denial, the anger, they all communicate it way more than just straight up telling it, and the well done pacing too helps us to follow along with it, thank you for the story!

      1. Thank you. I’m glad I was able to get her feelings across effectively.

    6. Rex324533 Avatar
      Rex324533

      Less is can sometimes be more and this story is a fantastic example of that. From their speech we can subtly infer that more might be wrong with the girl than the stone disease she seems to have. Which is another curveball that places us in a more fictional/fantastical setting. That alone I really love as I’m a sucker for fantasy. Furthermore I thought the counting bits were great for controlling the pace of the story.

      1. Thank you for your kind words. Less is more is something I live by for these micro-fictions

  24. Rex324533 Avatar
    Rex324533

    The First Rule.
    By Rex 324533

    What even is humanity? I lie here strung up like a puppet, ghosts of my past whisp faintly within my… I can not call it a mind. This whirring clicking mass of alloy and polymer that binds what is left of me. Leaving my existence, a waking sleep. All I can see before me is not comforting. My own form strung up like Christ on a tree lay across from me on a mirror. I see no humanity, just a mass of harsh grey angles and armor. My own visage a gaunt parody of a skull and an aged gas mask.

    A familiar thunk rouses me. The door to my cell opens allowing four men in. One clad in white the others richly dressed in military formal.

    “Well Mr. Othais it certainly looks frightening, but does it work.” Booms the largest if the three, every movement of his ample frame tinkling with medals.

    “Why yes of course, this mind shift has shown great promise.” His words slither out nasally and venomous. With a turn he stoops over a computer, and within moments I can feel a faux life return to my body. I stare down the thing in white he seems to recoil in my sight.

    “Mr Othias what do those pop-ups say?” growled the thing that glitters.

    “umm uhh” he stammers as he turns, reluctantly turning his back to me. “Construct K is attempting human harm.” He seems to shrink then laugh. “You cannot harm me droid, remember Asimov’s first rule” he hisses.

    “you are like me, Thing” I reply in a hollow tone.

    “And what would that be?” I can hear the confidence in his hiss.

    “No longer human” for that moment I felt the shackles fail, and my hand clasp his throat with a crunch. Then nothing, as soon as freedom was felt waking sleep took hold once again. Through hazed vision I could see the thing in white on the floor, in a pool of his own crimson. No longer human, and no longer breathing.

    1. Wow, it was very clever to use turn up the Isimov’s first rule against the creator. In fact, I think that the scientists developing AI should pay attention to that kind of loophole, lol.

      One thing I liked about your narration is how the setting is neatly embbed in the narrative, you didn’t had to describe the scenary, it unfolds automatically within the narration of the situation, very well done.

  25. Words of Life
    By Weiss

    Far away from the concrete mountains with glades of glass, with rivers of money and neon streetlights, on the periphery of the small town of Lakewood, there stands a Chapel of The Word. Little round building with doors of dark pine wood long-rotten, with picturesque stained windows, so bright and cheerful yet colourless, their dye fading into the distant past, with it’s parget once clear-white stripped by the ruthless springs of time, revealing antique masonry.

    No one comes here to pray to the silent faces of saints, staring judgmentally into decades of air, dirty and dusty, still and stale, undisturbed for centuries. Should you enter with a fresh gale, you will see only decay and rot, and broken stone slabs, overgrown with the greenery, and a little lectern in the middle, carved out of marble, burdened by a book with pages yellow and cover of leather, dried and worn-out, although never in use. And when you come closer, the wind will gladly turn a page for you, and you will see, that each of them contains a word, only one word, in gold and in silver, glowing mysteriously. Here – “Righteous”. Then – “Ignoble”. On the next page – “Forgiving”, with “Sly” coming after.

    But when a blank page appears, nothing written yet on it, it will spark suddenly, and out of nowhere glimmering ink starts curling around, with flourishes of a new word, like a last of the breaths, like a snap of a rope, ending chord of a song that winds sing in the night.

    And when your life comes to an epilogue, when you are human no more, your spirit will wander away, like a pearl without a clam, like a mannequin without clothing, like a book with only one word on it’s page – which one will you be? What will glowing letters spell on your page?

    1. Such a different take on this prompt! I love your detailed descriptions so much, they really constructed this place in my mental cinema. You did well in guiding me in from afar, first just seeing this chapel from the outside, then drawing attention to details on the walls, and then entering this building. It’s very logical and helps the atmosphere unfold!
      I think you could work on sentence length, though. Although your style is very sophisticated and literary, it could benefit from a few shorter sentences inbetween as a breather. It does sort of match the atmosphere to be a bit heavy, but I feel like I couldn’t marvel at the scene you were developing because I had to stop and re-read some parts.
      Nevertheless, I really enjoyed your story! It makes me think about the way this book works and about myself – which word would describe me best in my essence? Also, I liked the closing paragraph a lot. Each comparison has some individual notion if ‘wandering away’ just like every soul is unique.

    2. Rex324533 Avatar
      Rex324533

      This was a wonderful piece of work very poetic, and highly interpretable. I believe what is being said is that after death you are no longer human you are a collection of words related to how you acted in life. You become your predominant personality trait in the minds of others.

  26. IsaDragon Avatar
    IsaDragon

    It is there wherever you look. It is still hard to find.
    By IsaDragon337

    When Katarina was hungry, she was always fed. At first that was just food. She liked running around, getting into places she shouldn’t. Later she discovered a hunger for knowledge, for experience, for the zeal of life.

    It got her heart racing.

    As she got older, she got bolder in her explorations. Walks around the block became hikes across town. She stumbled down forgotten alleyways that lead to places that didn’t exist, opened doors to tiny shops of curses and tinctures and the sort of old musty books that nearly stole your soul.

    She found books that hollowed you out, stole your name, and left your hands still, life without luster, the feeling of something missing until the kindly librarian came in the backroom and found Katarina sitting there: cracked lips, broken nails. Apathetic.

    But that was in the past; it could stay there, thank you very much.

    Her fear couldn’t stop her forever. She had opened the door and things were coming in. She was still hungry. The librarian held Katarina’s head between her palms and whispered blue-tinted blessings into her hair, and set her loose.

    She went digging. She found the haze that hung over nightclubs, the footprints burned into studios. Katarina sang at rowdy barsongs and breathed smoke. She felt a second heartbeat echo from somewhere. She visited the medical campus, and watched students pour their everything into textbooks and [red] seep into the empty space left behind.

    She was so hungry.

    In her dreams, she followed the threads of [red], threads that twined into ruby-colored paths that became a blood-soaked clearing.

    There was a heavy rhythm pounding in her ears. Frenzied shadows of people danced and sang and howled. In the center was a heart, spewing blood and fever into the air, into her lungs, into her stomach.

    The world beat to its rhythm, for it was the Heart Unceasing.

    And Katarina? She feasted.

    She woke up. She tossed open the curtains, and smiled at the sunrise. Her heart beat to the pulse of the universe, its drive thudded in her bones.

    And she was hungry.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I can’t, for the life of me (and all that connects to the [red] threads in me) grasp at all that is contained in this story, and even then I just love it a lot. This was a great reading. Very interesting, the language very evocative, the flow of it was a mix of visceral and thirsty-for-something-unknown/unmentionable… And the poetic and mystery of it all is amazing. I can’t help but wonder on what is going on, and the musings seem almost like following a particularly elusive and yet all-encompassing heartbeat.

      That was really amazing. Great tale, very thrilling, very poetic. In a sense, nourishing!

  27. who I am?

    by Galer.

    He woke up in a strange living place, it looked like he was inside the chest of something. Then an intense light attached to an organic line was bearing on him

    “Sir looks like the human patient woke up,” said a scraggly inhuman voice ” the surgery was a complete success”

    “so it seems,” said a deeper second voice “you are lucky, we saved you, unfortunately, you lost a lot during your accident, it was even luckier that we were capable to save your soul but your consciousness received damage”

    Those were the last works of the Morforian elder before he got discharged. Then he got into the local G.P.D.F department due to his cyborg implants being useful for police work, on top of being chosen by an eldritch godchild, though the only thing he could remember was his name, Matias Black.

    That being said, there were always these snipped of memories in dreams, the sweet loughs of two children, and the dulcet tones of a woman’s voice. After some investigation he figured out they were his lost family, he visited them but the question always hovered in his head.

    How much of him was the original Matias Black the Family man? or Matias Black the cyborg agent of the G.P.D.F Veteran wrangler of one Jealous dumbass, and a battle greenling?

    How much of that past life was left but fragments and a new self?

    “Hey Matias are you ok?” asked Linota his floating eldritch companion beside his head “you look deep in thought,”

    “nothing just wondering about my past, who the real “me” is that sort of thing,” the silver-eyed redhead replied “I don’t know if I should visit then again knowing that their father is effectively death”

    “That might be, but the memories will always be deep between your Soul ” replied the inter-dimensional being that was bound to him.

    “Perhaps you have a point,” Matias replied still pondering his existence, while he looked at the window of the spaceship, the stars moving idly by, in the inky black void

  28. Servants.
    By VTRwriter

    Wake, march, kill, return, sleep.
    Wake, march, kill, return, sleep.

    Since our creation, the cycle repeats. We do not know how many. We were not made to know. We were made for extermination. Extermination of neighbor kingdoms. Extermination of the enemies of our lord. Our adamant bodies never met defeat. Never leave survivors. Always win.

    Wake, march, kill, return, sleep.
    Wake, march, kill, return, sleep.

    On departure and return, we see faces in the kingdom of our lord. Frightened faces. Faces that one day were like our own. Faces that we knew before. Not anymore. Now we are but servants. He commands, we exterminate. Nothing else matters.

    Wake, march, kill, return, sleep.
    Wake, march, kill, return, sleep.

    Our dreams torment us. Here, tempestuous nightmares. Faces screaming in agony. Rivers of blood following our footsteps. Fearful eyes staring at us. There, sounds of revolt and despair. Voices demanding food, shelter, attention. Diverse sounds, increasing in amount and intensity. We will be called soon. We can feel it.

    Wake, march.

    Before us, desperate faces. Faces that one day were like ours, now slender and pestilent. they throw us rocks, bricks, things that will never scratch us. Anger and fear brand them. We have our orders. Eliminate all servants of the kingdom. We shall do so.

    Kill. Kill. Kill.

    Faces that one day were like ours. Lifeless. Emotionless. Stained with blood. All exterminated.

    Not all yet.

    The servants serve the nobility. The nobility serve the lord. The lord serves the people. Eliminate all servants of the kingdom. We shall do so. We have our orders.

    Kill. Kill. Kill.

    Return. Sleep.

    Never wake again. Forever dream.

    Relief.

  29. Inconvenient Life Changes
    By Demon Nox

    Waking up is always a pain, my alarm blaring a head-splitting beeping in my room at a time I would rather not be awake. My left arm awkwardly scrambled at my bedside table to grab my eye, I swear if my roommate moved it somewhere else again al kick him out. After a brief moment of feeling around for its box, I found it, quickly screwing it into my empty socket.

    After the satisfying click meaning, it connected to my nerve, and my vision in all its blue-tinted glory snapped into existence. My room was in its normal disheveled state, clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor, and admittingly more than a few fast food wrappers. Now, where did I put my arm?

    I should really make a habit of putting that on my bedside table when I go to bed like my eye, like come on I don’t forget where I put my feet, I guess it’s cause I’m a lefty. Sitting up, releasing a series of pops from my spine in the process, I slide my stumps into my legs. They’re not like my eye or my arm, they’re the kind you can get anywhere.

    Quickly securing them, I stand up slightly off balance thanks to my lack of arm and own grogginess. Turning off my alarm with more force than I probably should of, I march my way to the bathroom. And thank god my arm was left in the clothes basket, that’ll save some time.

    I plugged it into the port in my right shoulder, and instantly the blue lights in its center mass came to life, encased in a translucent ‘flesh’. It was only a second later I could feel the sensory inputs start working, starting at my fingertips and moving up.

    Now rearmed, I look in my bathroom mirror. Seeing my fake eye and arm, along with my handsome face. A putrefying slab of meat where a face once was, with my body not looking much better. “This… Is why you don’t date necromancers, god this’ll suck.”

  30. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “A Letter Goodbye”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    Emilia,

    I’ve made the difficult decision to leave you and the other witches of the Witchfane forests. Please understand, this isn’t a rejection of you in any way. You have been a true mentor to me. I came to you haunted by the voices of the dead and the Neverborn. Something my family could only see as a curse. In contrast to my elder sister, who was welcomed by my family and the Church of the Light, it seems I have always been a child in the dark.

    You taught me that darkness isn’t wrong. That there is a comfort in the night. That there is a home even if the community you were born into never really let you belong. Most of all I struggled because I felt I never belonged.

    The Neverborn have revealed much to me. My soul was touched by the Neverborn long before I was even born. They are part of me, and I am simply fortunate that I don’t bear the obvious marks and distortions of the body that most fiend-touched bear at birth. But with such a nature I also learned there is power if I can only unlock its secrets. I refuse to bow down to a Neverborn Lord in supplication to learn such secrets, just as I refuse to bow down to the sacred Light that can’t accept me. I will not be a slave to anyone, just as I will no longer be a slave to my family’s values and community.

    That is why I have to go to the Whitefalcon Tower, and study with the wizards there. Our time together has been the community I always wanted, but I know now I don’t truly belong here either. Only by understanding my kind and the Neverborn can I find where I belong. That is why I must go.

    I will miss you. I will never forget all you taught me, and will continue to hold to the ideals we shared. The road before me is rocky, but I will persevere.

    Sincerely,

    Arith of Winterhaven

    1. Cheers for darkness not being inherently evil!

      Cheers for allegedly demonic sorts not being baddies!

      Cheers for witches getting such shit done!

      I still love the concept of the Neverborn. There’s an inherent malevolence in the name that inclines the reader to assume the worst. I still like to think that they might YET be born, but there’s also the “never will be born” angle and that leads to a lot of the “why” questions.

      Which makes me think that there’s a lot of potential power in the whole thing.

      Finding the place where one belongs is always a great storyline.

  31. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    Written in the Rain

    By Norman Gray

    Gandrian walked into Ravenscrest, and the storm followed. He treaded the muddy street, his boots wading through rainwater. An hour, he thought. Just an hour, no more. . .

    He was tired. All he wanted was to rest.

    “’S’cuse me, sir!” a man called out, from the front door of a tavern. “I carry word from Ironwell.”

    Gandrian stopped. “Ironwell doesn’t exist anymore. Flood took it.”

    The stranger nodded. “That, it did. A few folks survived.” He pulled from his pocket a leather envelope. “Claira Dawson sends her regards.”

    Claira. How he’d both hoped for and feared this moment. Gandrian approached, reaching for the letter with trembling hands.

    The stranger pulled back. “I know what you are. I was in Tsusslebee when you passed through. The mines are still underwater.”

    Gandrian closed his eyes. “Did. . . Did everyone-”

    “Everyone got out in time.”

    He opened his eyes, and stared at the letter. “I can’t return to her. I’m the reason. . .” He choked on his words. “I’m not the man she knew.” Gandrian wondered if he was a man at all, anymore. He had become a plague, bringing death and destruction wherever he went. He’d stayed in Ironwell, tried to help people escape. . . Not knowing that if he’d simply left, the storm would follow. The guilt of it still haunted him.

    “She asks that you write back.” He patted his jacket. “I have paper and ink.”

    The street was already ankle-deep underwater. “There’s no time, now.”

    “Won’t take long, I reckon. I’d imagine you’ve thought long and hard about what you’d like to tell her.”

    He had. . . But there was too much. “Ravenscrest will be another Atlantis when I’m finished.”

    The stranger placed a hand on Gandrian’s shoulder. “There’s a drought in Innisby, I could meet you there next. Then maybe into the Barrens, we can write what’s left.”

    Gandrian hardly knew what to say. “Who are you?”

    “Someone she didn’t love.” He handed over Claira’s letter, and held open the tavern door. “I wrote her poetry, but it was your words she wanted.”

    1. Thunder Avatar
      Thunder

      Oh I like that! Very interesting concept for a ‘walking plague’ type character. I’m very curious about how they ended up like this, and what the exact relationship between the characters mentioned. And I love the little hint that this curse could be used for good with fixing a drought. I’d love to see more of this one if you have it.

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        I appreciate the kind words. This is a character I’ve revisited a couple of times, and I have a couple of other short pieces written about him.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was very well-written, and such an interesting concept. Not just the walking-waterplagueman, but the companion poet who decided Gandrian’s words to Claira’s were worth the (continuous) journey (and probably the inconvenience of rainy days and floods).

      I’ve read the other comment, where you said you have other stories with this character. Does the poet appears in those as well? I loved the way he introduces himself here, and how he tries to help not only with the task at hand, but in dealing with the whole situation.

      That was very interesting.

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        No, the poet was an entirely new character.

        The first piece (which now that I think about it, I must’ve written over a decade ago, now) was Gandrian returning to Ironwell to see Claira, if only for a short while.

        The second involved Gandrian wanting to travel to another continent, and trying to convince a reluctant sail boat captain to set sail in the storm; the captain of course wants to wait for better weather, which unbeknownst to him, isn’t coming so long as Gandrian is around. Gandrian tries to throw vast sums of money at him, which only rouses the captain’s suspicions, and he assumes Gandrian to be on the run from the law.

  32. Mango Gravy Avatar
    Mango Gravy

    The Art of Introduction
    By Mango Gravy

    “Hello there. I was once like you, and I need your help.”

    No, that’s much too forward. Maybe I should start with small talk?

    “Hi. How’s the weather down there?”

    Yes, a joke to break the ice. Oh, and remember to smile. Not too wide. There. That’s perfect. Remember what it was like to be human and it will all go swimmingly. Aha, puns. A sense of humour was always a good thing. I’m glad I haven’t lost mine.

    The sun wasn’t the only thing that rose that morning. The normally calm waters of the lake we called home suddenly parted, violently. A colossal serpent rose out of the water, sending equally massive waves pouring across the city.

    Silhouetted by the rising Sun, the beast was a serpentine shadow in the vermilion sky. The very image of death. And atop the monstrosity sat a hauntingly human face that smiled down at us like a child at play. Its pale lips parted, and a deafening screech sounded from it. Most bled from their ears and curled up in pain. The lucky ones fell dead on the spot, for the rancid breath that rolled across the drowned city was a poison unlike any we had even known. The end didn’t come quickly.

    The monster’s face changed then. Its smile turned to a frown and its brow furrowed. The thing almost looked sad as it lowered itself back into the water.
    Few survived that day. None among them would ever forget its face.

    That went poorly. For a species that multiplies so quickly, they really shouldn’t be so hung up about a few deaths. Or a few hundred. They barely even gave me a chance to speak, and then had the audacity to run screaming or die when I did. I wasn’t that rude when I was human. Was I? Well, it was a long time ago, and etiquette changes over time.

    I’m sure they’ll forget in a few hundred years. Until then, I’ll refine my strategy. A gift to start with, perhaps. Yes, that just might work.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      The change in perspective in the middle was really well-executed – brilliant strategy to convey the whole thing going on. Also, incredibly funny that the serpent-thing-that-was-once-human is dealing with an all too human problem of how to start a conversation (the anxiety part might be the same, even if the results and the ways in which all can go wrong are on an entirely different scale).

      That was very refreshing to read. There is a hint of horror, but it is very comedic and light-hearted – which was not something I’d expect from this particular prompt.

      Great tale!

    2. Sniperaxiom Avatar
      Sniperaxiom

      Pft the poor monster-. It comes off as genuinely having good intentions. It simply cannot interact safely with the humans. Your change in perspective was awesome. You got me! Aw man the part with him offering the joke too! I also have to love the plan he has for the future. Better luck next time buddy!

      Great job with this story! I really liked the way you used the prompt. Awesome job!

  33. Karl Aegnor Avatar
    Karl Aegnor

    A Curious Specimen
    By Karl Aegnor

    Xaraxx had traversed every habitable world from the prime sector to the epsilon; he and SCR1VNR had recorded enough creatures and natural phenomena to fill their own server of the supreme repository. And yet, he had no idea what he was looking at.

    ‘SCR1VNR, analysis?’ he said in his typical to-the-point fashion. The droid beeped and chirped as it ran its routines before replying: ‘It seems to be hominid… in origin at least.’

    Xaraxx suppressed a chuckle. He had never known the droid to sound confused. Pacing along, he began to muse. ‘SCR1VNR, please note: specimen appears human, though abnormal. Crawling along the ground, its length approaches three metric units, with epidermis sagging near the middle, as if its bone structure were-’

    ‘You know I can hear you.’

    Xaraxx could hardly contain his shock. While an, apparently, human creature speaking was hardly abnormal, the surprises of this encounter had left him unsure what to expect. As Xaraxx regained his composure, SCR1VNR piped up. ‘Apologies, sir. My master tends to get quite absorbed in his work, and often forgets manners.’ First confusion, and now sass. That droid would need a tune-up once they got back to the lab. ‘This unit’s designation is SCR1VNR, and my master is the great planetologist Xaraxx. Would you mind providing us with a statement?’

    The human groaned. ‘Look, I’ve been having a rough day, if you could drop me off at a medical facility equipped to deal with this,’ he cocked his head towards his body, ‘situation I’ve got, I’ll tell you all about it.’

    Xaraxx and SCR1VNR did as the human asked, careful not to damage any of the organs in its abnormally fragile mid-section, and eagerly listened to its tale as they embarked. Apparently, it had been the victim of a failed experiment concerning the usage of wormholes for interplanetary travel. As this case was an aberration, SCR1VNR felt no need to record it. Xaraxx, however, always remembered it with special distinction. There was no longer human than the one he had met that day.

    1. Thunder Avatar
      Thunder

      It is very, very rare that I read something that gives me a physical urge to facepalm, so take that as an accomplishment. And congratulations on managing to work the prompt into a pun.

      The two non-human characters both seem interesting, full of potential adventures. I’d love to hear more about any ‘unusual’ incidents they’ve come across.

    2. This was a fun read. But it took me a minute to get the pun, and I just…you win. You took the most unique route anyone could’ve taken and sold it. The story was so well put together that the delivery of a pun was completely unexpected. The characters were fun, the plot of finding out what this human went through was interesting. It was the perfect cover.

      Take the like! Just take it!

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      When I saw the prompt, I thought more than once to go on that route. I’m so happy to know that not only there was another one that noticed it, but more than that, run with it and made it into an actual story. Also, a great one!

      That was very funny, but what I found most interesting about it was the whole subtle thing with the maybe too human-coded behaviors of the droid. There were layers of reading in this story, and multiple ways of appreciating it.

      Great story there.

    4. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      I should’ve seen that coming. . . I was debating screwing with the theme, too. Tends to happen to me when I struggle with a prompt, my mind often resorts to trying to find something silly and amusing to do with it.

      I’m glad I didn’t also write about elongated humans, it wouldn’t have been as funny or well written as this.

  34. Haelamon Avatar
    Haelamon

    The Talker
    By Hael Amon

    Trust, something given far too freely or far too stingily. Or sometimes given in the right amount. Why is it that we give so much trust to the wrong people or things, and so little to the right ones? Well I wish I knew.

    In all my days of being an inquisitor for the Adeptus I hath never seen anything so horrid. A mangled pile of flesh and scales deathly in all ways but the eyes that stare into me, watching my every move.

    Not even the movement of breath graces this… thing. They used to be one of the adepts. However they practiced magic from that cursed orb.

    Sigh. I guess it’s time to go talk to the ‘treasure of the Adeptus.’

    Entering the chamber with its shaped obsidian lining, and golden furnishing with a fancy little pedestal bedecked in gems. How lavish for such a horrid creation. All this, for a gilded-tawny orb made of a strip of metal wrapped around itself endlessly. So I pick it up.

    ‘I wonder how food tastes, I haven’t had it in ages…. Oh. A pathetic fleshling, how miserable. I do wonder how The Unna-’

    “What did you tell that adept?”

    ‘How rude to interrupt my musings, bad enough to be trapped in an orb, blind to the world, worse still to deal with you. And what adept?’

    “Tialnen, if that doesn’t help they became a pile of flesh covered in dull bronze scales.”

    ‘Oh that one, ah well they asked for power and I answered to become one of my kind, didn’t work out? I’d be able to actually turn a fleshling like you if a way to free me was discovered…’

    I sigh as I try to facepalm, but I’m still holding the orb, “Can you tell me how to undo it?”

    ‘No. Not my problem.’

    This… “How is it not?”

    ‘He asked and I answered, improper application of my knowledge is not my fault nor problem.’

    “So why tell them in the first place?”

    ‘Boredom.’

    “Would it not help the boredom to tell me how to fix it?”

    ‘No.’

    1. Karl Aegnor Avatar
      Karl Aegnor

      This is really fun. I like how the dynamic between the inquisitor and the eldritch being reads more annoyed than anything else, as if this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. The opening soliloquy on trust works quite nicely to get us into the POV character’s head. If I have any nitpicks, I would say that the use of the word ‘hath’ feels a little odd. Yes, the diction is slightly elevated, but the lack of such archaic verbiage in the rest of the piece makes it feel like an odd man out. However, that’s just me, and I respect that this is a stylistic choice. This is an enjoyable little dose high fantasy. Well done.

    2. Thunder Avatar
      Thunder

      Everything about this is wonderful! Eldritch beings screwing around with humans out of boredom. I greatly want to see more of it and the inquisitor.

    3. A surprisingly cordial conversation with a being that clearly gives no fucks about the people around it and is also mildly antagonistic towards them.

      Curious as to why they keep this thing, and why access isn’t more restricted. If I had an object that’d tell people the magical equivalent of “why dont you try jamming a fork in an outlet?” I’d at least have some sort of guard on it.

  35. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    The mirror is broken

    By Tamela Redfin

    After Feldspar left, I couldn’t control myself. I went over my board and tore it apart. What kind of leader was I? Then again, I my made my own clone in a murder bot. How was I better than my parents?

    I wasn’t. I was just as cruel and that’s why Henry left me and my own daughter hated me. Henry, where was my most loyal bodyguard these days?

    I looked down at my stomach and sighed. I wasn’t visible yet, but soon I’d have to tell Western Rolt the truth. I shouldn’t bring a second child into this world. The first one was enough.

    I was a monster on the inside. I looked up at my reflection. A whip was on my right hip, and bloodied jackboots on my feet. How did it end up like this? I was ready to throw something to break the dreadful reflection, but then the door opened.

    I froze before seeing Helen smooth her skirt. “Cora, it’s okay, it’s me. Goodness, what happened!”

    I looked around and buried my face in my hands and backed away, “I’m a monster, Helen. You should stay away.”

    “No, you aren’t, but I do think your boyfriend is corrupt. But that’s not here nor there. Cora, what’s wrong?”

    “This isn’t what I wanted. I never was. I’m not a leader.” I sobbed. “I’m barely holding it together. But I can’t let Maxwell and Augie down.”

    Helen twitched. “But what about your dreams?”

    “They don’t matter. I owe Augie everything though. When I was black and blue, he gave me a little slap and got me on my feet.”

    “And you were sixteen then.” Helen muttered.

    I ignored her though. If only she knew the good he did.

    1. Self-destructive person continues being self-destructive without realising that they’re doing that part… how many installments of this are there?

      Cora’s been thoroughly bowed under Augen’s influence and it kind of shows in the way Cora actively surrenders on her plans after he’s done the messed-up nonsense that we know he do so well.

      Helen, keep offering that rescue rope. Cora might just grab onto it one day. Fingers crossed.

    2. I dunno. I feel like it takes some conscious choice to torture, mutilate, and murder people.
      It’s been awhile, wasn’t Cora the one who cut off Sapphira’s arm? Or made someone do it? Like I said, it’s been a while.

      But at least she’s showing somethi g resembling remorse. Maybe she can turn herself off this path of darkness. If she really wants to.

      Also, obligatory “Fuck Augen.”

      1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
        Tamela Redfin

        Not quite. It was Cecilia’s arm and that was Feldspar Augen. Cameron only said Cora might know about this. But it’s been a while.

        I’m not saying Cora’s fully innocent, but she did have influence. I say Augen toyed with her hatred, starting small with her parents (Getting her to murder them) and escalating to now.

  36. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    “Human at Heart”

    by Reinkarnitor

    You called me a god…do not call me that. I hate it when you call me that! Just because I am able to manipulate the very fabric of reality doesn’t mean I am a god! I once was human, just like you, living a human live in a human village. Until one day I found a little machine, fiddled with it, it exploded into my face and turned me into this.

    Oh excuse me, is that a bit to shallow for you? Well excuse me, but it happened so many millennia ago and I have travelled so many dimensions since it happened that I seriously do not see any point in telling it like some epic tale.

    Do you want to hear, how they chased me out of the village, because of how I look now?

    Do you want to hear how I fought my way through the cruel world I lived in, trying to understand my powers?

    Do you want to hear how I focused every bit of my mind not to grow power hungry, upon learning that I can manipulate reality itself however I pleased?

    Or do you want to hear how I died…and then started living again in another dimension?

    Do you want me to tell you, how extremely shook I was after the second time, realizing that this is not a dream, but that all the people I left behind, everyone I loved so dearly, were gone now, and that I couldn’t do anything to return to them?

    Oh, or perhaps how I went insane after living for so long, only to become sane again, simply because I grew tired of being insane.

    It does not matter where I come from or who and what I once was. Now I am Omnix and at my very heart, I will always remain human, so don’t call me anything else but that…I beg of you…I do not want to forget that I am human…that I am not special.

    If I ever were to forget that…then I would be lost forever.

    1. VENJI THE VOID Avatar
      VENJI THE VOID

      I loved this ,its a really interesting story on how a human gaining the powers of God can be so horrible and horrifying, u love how he describes it all and how he just wants to be human and not called anything else so he dosent forget that his a human
      But it also feels like he’s no longer human even if he believes he still is ,and the true tragedy will come after he realises it
      Overall it was a great story

  37. What Makes A Monster and What Makes a Man?

    By Joe

    “Again…what are you?” The Judge asked.

    “I don’t know,” I answered as calmly as possible.

    “Well, it’s clear you’re not human. But you say you used to be.”

    “That’s correct.”

    “Right.” The Judge seemed agitated. “How did this happen?”

    I took a breath before I explained again. “I was kidnapped and experimented on by a monster who called himself a man and a scientist. After my transformation, I broke free and tried to force him to change me back. But he said there was no cure. Now he’s dead, I’m stuck in this body and proving my identity before the court.”

    “You killed him?”

    “Yes.”

    “I don’t believe any of this.”

    “I don’t know why,” I let the irritation seep a little. “I provided my accounts, address, and social security. I showed the location of the lab.”

    “But you’re new!” The Judge expressed great concern. “You showed up out of nowhere, covered in blood, I guess was the scientist’s, and scared people! Then you started acting like us. Do you know how crazy this sounds?”

    “Yes,” I gritted my teeth.

    “And yet you think you’re entitled to human rights?”

    “Yes,” I said less calmly.

    “Why?” He challenged.

    “BECAUSE THERE IS NO REASON TO KEEP THEM FROM ME!” I shouted, startling the courtroom. I calmed down, still simmering. “It’s been a year since my transformation. Since I came back, I’ve been unable to update my identity and enter my house. The stores reject me, even if I have money. People don’t just avoid me, they RUN from me.” I teared up. “I live out in the woods HUNTING like a wild animal! And this is the fifth time I had to stand before the court to fight this! I see no reason I shouldn’t have the same rights as before when I was human. But for me to get rights now, we have to decide what I am, and whether being human is the qualifier for human rights. Rights that wouldn’t mean anything to humans if you weren’t sentient and intelligent to make a society.”

    1. Karl Aegnor Avatar
      Karl Aegnor

      This is a heavy one. I respect the ambition of trying to tackle the issue of what defines humanity in three hundred fifty words, and I think there’s a lot of good stuff in this exchange, I can certainly feel the deeper characterization of these two, but it does end rather abruptly. Of course, we are all slaves to the word limit, but I feel like if you could buy yourself the words, just having a final description of the silence that follows would end this piece on a deeply impactful note. All things considered, great work.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      And here the important questions are asked: not just what makes one qualify as human, but the practical implications of imbuing one with this characterization, or more importantly, denying someone of it.

      I really like the build up of it. The idea that the narrator once was a human, but now has his status on hold and pending judiciary approval (an improbable rate of success, regardless of reasoning, I’d guess) really sells the question. It is not a matter of nature, it does not seem to be a matter of practicality, and most probably it isn’t a question of reasoning. Humanity as a concept is a mess, and the whole idea of a mess of a concept being the sole beneficiary of rights… that can get messy as well.

      After all, one just needs to have a category to build the concept of what falls outside of it. And there are a lot of rhetorical apparatuses to make others fall there.

      In lieu of a critique, I don’t think the last sentence has the “punchy” quality to end such a philosophically-yet-practical discussion as it could have – and it puts me in the mind of questioning more if society (this particular society, with the flaws it have and the propensity of categorizing some as more worth of attention than others) is really a product of intelligence (or if intelligence is the more important element in the equation that brings forth “this society”). I understand it makes the connection of “you, the Judge, and also you, the system the Judge is bound to and that we are using to discuss this whole matter” is equiparable to “the object of debate, which is me, the narrator” as in both are capable of sentience and intelligence, so what’s the difference? But I guess it could be a little bit clearer and a little bit punchier.

      Anyway, very small nitpick to a story that I found amazing and thought-provoking (again). So, considering not just the exposed, but also the precedent of previous cases, the court has no choice but to declare this a great tale and to give it a like.

    3. This is really interesting. And I love the realism here of the narrator just wanting to be treated like a person again after that horrible ordeal. I also like that we know the narrator must look completely inhuman just from the way he talks about the situation and how he’s treated. But short of him clearly having a mouth, we don’t know how inhuman he looks.

      And the reasons I like that is because it shouldn’t matter. He’s the victim and being treated like a person shouldn’t be that big of an ask, but humanity does have this thing of demonizing anything different so I could easily see this situation happening.

      Great story! It makes me curious to know more, which is always the mark of a good tale. Well done!

  38. Maxer4000 Avatar
    Maxer4000

    What are you?
    By Maxer4000

    The crystalline monster entered a room, it reeks with blood, it hates the smell, but business is business. It wades on, through the collection of devices, all tainted from the red liquid turned solid crimson, there it found the man it’s here for.

    “Ah… ya didn’t last long did ya?” he speaks to the mangled body strapped to a contraption in front of him, his white turtleneck is all dyed in red, he revels in the carnage he brought “guess all that bravado didn’t bring ya any good now, eh?” he kicks the corpse, letting some organ, too messed up to recognize to drop. He turns “oh, Snowy, what business?” he speaks to the creature rather nonchalantly, it’s rather easy when it’s inside a fleshy humanoid shell.

    The humanoid being holds up and folder, the man just nods “Right, put it there, I’ll look into it” he then heads to a sink to wash the blood off his hands. The monster gazes at the corpse, what he did here, there was no mercy, it ponders if a human even capable for such cruelty, every human it met was rather uncomfortable with the kills it made, is it the same feeling they have? The man strolls right by it’s ear “Disturbed that yer handiwork came back to haunt ya, eh?” The creature turns to him, before it could respond, it’s as if he can read it’s mind “If ya calling me out for me works, ya should look what this wanker did to his slaves” he laughs, there was no hint of remorse.

    The laughter stops, the man stares down into the monster’s eyes despite being a head shorter “Am I human? Are ya going to judge?” It know it couldn’t, not being human in the first place, but it knows one thing: this isn’t what human do.

  39. VulpesRose Avatar
    VulpesRose

    My Own Worst Enemy
    By VulpesRose

    Alistair entered the abandoned warehouse and swore. Nearly every surface of the sprawling place was covered in wriggling red eggs. There was no choice. Either he dealt with the problem now, or he had to deal with them once they hatched. The count was going up either way.

    He wasn’t really keeping count. It was honestly impossible to keep an exact count of his kills. Too often wounded demons had just enough strength to retreat to their own realm. Who knew if they survived long enough to die from their wounds or if they were picked off by the larger and stronger of their kind. Was delivering a mortal wound enough?

    The rules weren’t exactly clear because there weren’t any rules. It was more of a rumor, a superstition, passed down for so long that not even the Elder Council could offer any clarity. No one else in Alistair’s position had lived long enough to kill a thousand demons.

    He set fire to the warehouse but went further in, among the flames. The air was full of crackling and shrieks as the eggs began to pop in the heat.

    Surely it was some sort of demonic propaganda, “Kill too many demons, and you’ll become one yourself!” A boogeyman to keep the mortals from getting too aggressive.

    He counted pops.

    He hadn’t even reached twenty when he doubled over and his vision swam in ways that had nothing to do with the heat. His heart felt like it would explode, beating with unfamiliar rhythm. There was a sense of movement inside him, as though he was made of tornados or oceans and not flesh and bones.

    Fire didn’t always kill demons. He grabbed a bottle from his coat and choked down as many holy water filled pills as he could, hoping they would be enough to violently cleanse him from the inside.

    Alistair was losing the boundary between himself and whatever he was becoming. While he was still sure his mind was his own, a final thought rose to the surface.

    It’s possible to be too good at what you do.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was very, very interesting. I feel a sort of Constantine vibe to it, and I can’t help but love it. And that’s not the only reason to love it. In fact, there is a lot here that works splendidly.

      That ending line was amazing. I just can’t say it is my favorite because the whole paragraph with the matter of the “rules” is nothing short of perfect,. Very engaging, delivers the whole conflict, story, backstory and character all in a concise and delicious package.

      Really, great story here. Surely one of my favorites!

    2. Ooooh ouch. The punchline for this one hurts. Poor Alistair was trying to do a good thing for the world and ended up becoming that which he fought. He knew it could happen, and went forward anyway.

      Which, you know, more fool you kind of vibes.

      He COULD have chosen to retire when he knew he was getting too close. But I guess it was a balance between the greater good and the sacrifice he was willing to make.

      Also – red quivering eggs? Has someone been playing/watching Stray?

  40. Slipping beads
    by Kenji

    “Where am I?“

    I looked around the empty space, warm white light filled my vision no matter which direction I turned to.

    “Is anyone there?” I asked the void.

    After not receiving an answer, I started to take in my surroundings again, and heard a cling of metal against the intangible floor, I looked down to find a small, broken bracelet in my closed palm.

    The metal beads that composed it rolled off my fingers, my body instinctively moved to pick them back up, my brain screaming at me for not taking care of it, even though I didn’t remember why it was so important to me.

    “Who are you..?” I asked the bracelet, hoping the ghost of whoever owned it would answer me.

    As I thought that, more and more questions started rising in my head, ‘How did I get here?’ ‘Where is my family?’

    But one question rose to the front before any other, my brain unable to come up with an answer… Who am I?

    Then suddenly, memories flooded back like a tsunami, drowning out my every thought, their dominating presence taking over my being, and I remembered.

    I remembered the experiment, the explosion, my best friend calling my name as I reached for the door and how I only managed to graze her arm, ripping her bracelet off it, the bracelet I gave her so many years ago.

    “Ya’el!” her voice echoed as my vision went white.

    Tears streamed down my face as I came back to myself in the white void, the place crueler and less welcoming than when I first arrived.

    Slow realization came to me as the metal beads rolled off my hand again, not moving to pick them up again this time.

    I couldn’t go back. Not anymore.

    Too much time had passed already, but even so my body rushed to try to bring them- bring her, back.

    But I couldn’t.

    I knew I couldn’t go back. I was no longer human.

    The last metal bead clinked against the floor as I walked away into the void, galaxies born with every step.

    1. This was a very intriguing (and quite sad) story. The confusion was almost tangible, and I felt like I was really left with the protagonist in this ‘nothingness’, not knowing what the hell’s up.
      And then the memories come back. I like how the light is first described as ‘warm’, and then ‘cruel’ and ‘unwelcoming’ after they remember what they lost.
      Also, given the prompt it’s obvious they can’t go back since they’re not human anymore (even if I wished for them they could), but I loved that last line. “Galaxies born with every step” not only gives a hint of what they are now, the image is also very powerful, and really cool. Good job!

      The only thing I’d criticize is that you probably should break down the longer sentences into two shorter ones to make it flow a little better (for example: in the fourth paragraph changing the comma after “floor” to a full stop), that tripped me up while reading a little.

      But other than that a very cool story. Thank you for writing and sharing this.

    2. It is really hard for me to form anyhow sensible response to something that I enjoyed. Mostly because I always miss it’s essential value, consumed purely by the aestetics of the word choice and small descriptions and details.
      Other than that, it really makes me wonder about the “before” and “after”. Experiment? What happened? Why? And where it is, that they are going now, after loosing humanity?
      What I also like about this, is: it’s easy to read. I don’t have to stop and think abot each word, like some hard literature. Easy and fluft, like an omelette.
      My favourite part is probably the last sentence, it’s more poetical than the rest, but that’s purely my opinion, because the rest is just as good.

    3. Thunder Avatar
      Thunder

      I don’t think I’ve got much to say that hasn’t been said. This is a wonderful piece and the end where the MC leaves the beads on the ‘ground’ hits hard. I just love this story, Kenji.

  41. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    Ascension
    By MasaCur

    Hoshi entered the school. Today was going to be different.

    “Hey, midget, give me your money.” Hoshi felt a push at her back. “I didn’t have breakfast; I want to buy some melon bread.”

    Hoshi turned, standing as straight as she could, which still left her looking up at the other girl. A smile broke out on her face. “Today you shall no longer torment me. I am no longer weak Hoshi Jishin. Today you address Genevieve Mercutia, templar of the Fairy Queen Aludina!” She gave a haughty laugh.

    “Whatever. Nice eyepatch, loser. What did you do to your face?” the bigger girl asked.

    “Be thankful that I am wearing it, mortal! For this patch holds back the fearful power of the Eye of the Twelve Gods…hey!”

    The other girl pulled the eyepatch off Hoshi’s face.

    “Give that back!” Hoshi yelled, desperation creeping into her voice. She steadied herself, keeping her one eye closed, and regained her composure. “I do not know how long my eyelid can contain this eldritch pow….owww!” She was cut off when the girl poked her in her open eye.

    “I don’t have time for whatever fantasy you cooked up. Are you going to give me the money, or do I have to get nasty?”

    Hoshi placed a hand over her eye, and stared at the girl. “I see you leave me no choice. I will now ascend to my final form.” She started spinning in place.

    “Nasty it is.” The girl grabbed Hoshi by the shoulder and flung her to the ground.

    “Leave her alone!” There was a flash as a third girl rushed in, knocking Hoshi’s tormentor to the ground.

    Hoshi looked up to see Kagami standing over both of them.

    “You want a fight, you can fight me!”

    The bully girl scrambled away.

    Hoshi got to her feet. “Humble thanks, Kagami. While I had the situation well in hand, your assistance will not go unnoticed or unrewarded.” She curtseyed to Kagami.

    Kagami rolled her eyes. “Hoshi, you’re not a magical girl. Or whatever it is you think you are.”

    1. Ya know, I really wanted her to have paid the price of her eye for supernatural power or something.

      Imagine a tiny fairy knight living in her eye socket.

      Maybe dont imagine that.

      I do like that at least someone helped her. But it’s a shame that, in the end, she was still her old human self.

  42. Constellation Born
    By Kino

    My final days and final nights were the worst and best both in my life. Like a birdsong, a last hurrah, in the annals of history drawn. But forgotten not, and remembered so, I rise to see my discarded shell below. higher and higher my consciousness soars, I ascend and ascend beyond divine doors. It is then that I knew what was fated for me. To bound my fate to the stars, my life but a dream. Conflicted inside at my new eternal life, I sway between pure joy and most pitiable strife. for to watch those below gaze upon my honored last day, and hear the stories they tell, success and failure on a stage. Never does it cease, the cacophony goes on and on, my splintering mind torn between legends each time they are spawn. I know those holy ones above me thought to record my glory, but I am not so sure I want the world to remember my story. For though it is true that I have accomplish more than most of us, it is not my responsibility to be for a story just. It is sadder even still to know deep within my heart I couldn’t choose. This destiny, “my gift” is one I wasn’t ever given the right to refuse. And so forever shall I be most well known, though perhaps enshrouded within the thick mist, to watch my renown in ages it has so grown, there is no destiny quite like an old myth.

  43. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Courtroom Folly
    by Lee Strangely

    The attorney sped down the aisle to his waiting colleague, “I know, I know. I’m sorry I’m late, but I was only notified a half-hour ago.”

    “At least you came,” his colleague said as she arranged her papers.

    “So, who are we defending?”

    A disheveled man waved from the stand, “Hello Phillip!”

    “Oh not again,” Phillip groaned.

    Upon the thud of the gavel, the trial officially resumed.

    The prosecutor began, “Mr. Folly, based on witness statements, was the last person to interact with the female escort Carly prior to her death.” He pointed to Folly, “Do you deny?”

    “No.”

    “Alright, can you state the nature of your visit with her?”

    Folly leaned towards the microphone answering, “Physical therapy…” along with a dopey grin and nod as if he was agreeing with himself.

    “Right,” the prosecutor continued, “So, how would you classify your relationship with your… ‘physical therapist?’”

    “Strictly professional.”

    The prosecutor faked a smile as he leaned against the stand, “How long have you known the victim?”

    “Hourly,” Folly said with another nod.

    As they talked, Phillip leaned over to his colleague, “Is he drunk?”

    “Shockingly, he’s sober,” she responded in disappointment, “Personally I think he does this deliberately, just to waste as much time as humanly possible.”

    “Considering how many times he has appeared here,” Phillip postulated, “maybe he has given up on the system seeing him as person, and this is his vengeance.”

    She added, “I’ve heard that he’s the reason the judge has started drinking again.”

    The prosecutor then addressed the court, “Mr. Folly, can you please tell the court why your DNA was found on the body in several places?”

    “Only mine?” Folly blurted.

    Muffled laughter permeated the room.
    The prosecutor rolled his eyes, “According to witness testimony you could be heard shouting at her that she was going to die.”

    “I didn’t say that… I asked if she wanted to die.”

    Phillip’s head hit the table while his colleague facepalmed her head with a slap that echoed throughout the courtroom.

    1. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      Folly is hilarious, with a hilariously appropriate name. I like to imagine that, despite that last statement, Folly is actually innocent and it was just roleplay for his “physical therapy”.
      Also an interesting take on the prompt. “The system” failing to recognize someone as a human is usually played for tragedy, but you’ve made it humorous really well.

    2. I mean, “you’re going to die” and “do you want to die” are in fact different sentences with different meanings.

      I hope Folly is found innocent because i’d love this guy to be a recurring characters in a sitcom.

  44. Unfair Enough [A KoshDelia Ever After AU]
    C. M. Weller

    Be careful what you wish for, especially from immortals who possess unthinkable power. Valiant Whitekeep, now “Baronet of Arachis”, was desperate enough to seek them out. A legend almost as old as the world. An Elf who put hir hand to a gods heart and swore an unbreakable oath.

    “I swore an oath and that THING broke it,” Valiant insisted. “I tried everything I could to prevent a horrible prophecy. Yet it rules MY land. They’re calling that hideous animal a KING. No demon should rule proper humans.”

    Wraithvine the Eternal quirked a perfect eyebrow. Ze was not what Valiant expected from a legend. Shorter than most Elves. Dappled of skin, rather than one perfect hue. Some books said ze was golden-haired. Some said ze was dark. Here and now, it was ginger. And… weirdly short. “Please define… ‘proper humans’?”

    “Real humans,” he raged. “Ordinary, everyday, PURE humans who aren’t tainted by a devil’s blood. People like me!”

    Tented fingers tapped slowly against each other. “You are descended from people like your–” ze hesitated, “–heir. The throne of your realm judges him fit.”

    “Like a rock can judge a man. I paid for your services. Do what I say. Make. It. FAIR!”

    “As you wish,” said the Elf.

    The following morning, Valiant faced a monster in his mirror. Blue of skin. Yellow of eyes. Indigo hair that did nothing to hide the spiral horns erupting upwards from his temple. He could even feel a serpentine tail brushing his nightshirt.

    How was this fair? The Demon Lord of Whitekeep was still able to sit the Blood Throne. That devilborn beast who had ruined his reign was still judged worthy of ruling the realm. Nothing else had changed but him. He should raise an army. He should call an appeal by the laws of the land.

    If he dared show his face to the world ever again. If he could brave himself up enough to show THIS face to anyone at all.

    The face of a monster. A demon.

    The face almost exactly like his son’s.

    A monster. Never again a man.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      I like the use of the AU. Will we see more of it?
      Also, nice use of Neopronouns. It kinda to me shows a divide between the two. Can’t wait to see more.

      1. Whether or not I use this AU again is dependent entirely on how well it might fit the prompt. You know this.

        Ze/hir also happens to be my preferred set of pronouns. I want to make the use clear to everyone. yay.

    2. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I know this is an alternate universe, but I rather like this fate for Valliant. I can’t help but think about how it would be interesting to see the idea that the throne would now accept Valiant too (just as he wished for) leading to the interesting plot of a civil war with Valiant seeking to seize the throne for himself with a paid mercenary army. Such a plot need not mean an unhappy end for Kosh/Cordellia, but rather further drama in the future as Kosh works to protect his people and his throne for his children to be heirs to someday against the usurped former king.

      Anyway, a dark and fitting end for Valiant to be a now more fitting form. The story was well written and led to an interesting twist ending which seems fitting both given his nature (both in terms of heritage and disposition) and given the clearly “mixed” nature of the powerful elf he pays off to try to regain his throne. He seemed so very unaware that he was asking fairness of a complex non-binary being in terms of “normal” humans in Valiant’s terms, and how absurd that was.

      1. I’m still juggling over what might be the actual ultimate fate for Valiant. In-plot, big picture version, Valiant was an Earl who was never expected to take the title. Kosh later becomes the Thrice-Sworn King through assorted shenanigans and pretty much dislikes the entire idea.

        Valiant attempting to cling to the power he once had is his entire downfall. The harder he grasps, the worse it goes for him.

        Wraithvine knows all about what’s fair, and is an excellent judge of character. Ze may not ever face Kosh because of the whole “where were you” thing.

    3. VulpesRose Avatar
      VulpesRose

      I don’t know if its because I know more of your characters at this point or if the AU setting helped simplify things, but I thought this was really well self contained.

      And even knowing this was a “be careful what you wish for story” it was still incredibly satisfying (you do such a good job of making Valiant just instantly dislikable). It’s simple, but it works so well and you are so effective at providing just the right details to paint the scene.

      And also Wraithvine is such a good good name.

      I’ve been thinking about this one quite a bit since I first read it, and if that isn’t a mark of a successful story, I don’t know what is. Well done, as ususal!

      1. If I remember, Wraithvine was plucked out of the air based on a pleasant mouthfeel when I said it. I wanted something that could be implied as menacing under the right light for the circumstances of one story I was writing that morning.

        And yes, Wraithvine is becoming part of Alfarell with Kosh. All of my assorted fantasy stuff is congealing into a world, bit by bit.

        Valiant has his charms, I do admit. Being a nastard you love to hate is just part of his DNA XD

        Glad you like my work.

    4. Okay. Take 3.

      This is definitely a case of “instructions unclear”. Honestly I dont know what Valiant expected hir to do. Make Kosh human? I doubt he’d have been happy about that either.

      Cool to see Wraithvine here though. I didn’t realize they were part of the same universe. Or are they not, and that’s part of the AU?

      Actually, it’d have been funny if ze made Valiant “sane” and he realized what a cruel dastard he’d been all this time.

      But I get the feeling this isnt the type of “madness” that’s so easily fixed.

      1. Honestly I think Valiant expected to have Wraithvine make things the way they were when he was in peak power. And also have Kosh not exist. That would be his ideal world.

        Wraithvine is becoming part of Alfarell with Kosh. As is all my fantasy stuff. I don’t know about Wraithvine ever actually meeting the Whitekeeps in canon. Kosh would have some sharp words for hir and a long talk about the availability of two kind hands for Tiefling kind.

        It would take more than Wizardry to make Valiant sane. It would take a gottsverdammt miracle.

    5. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      (Pressed up against AU window) Hahahahahah yes, yesssssss!
      I don’t know if Wrathvine is only here through the specifics of the AU, or if ze also exists in Kosh’s canon universe too, but either way it was very cool and suprising to see hir again in a Koshdelia story! ^w^

      I also took note of how seemingly un-elflike Wrathvine was from Valiant’s perspective too – even to the point where he internally remarked on hir shortness not once but twice! (Unless that wasn’t intended, in which case, now you know. :P) Because combined with him going on all about ”pure” humans, (even though as Wrathvine points out, his bloodline has already been touched by tieflingy essence for a very long time by this point)…yeah, you can already tell that ze isn’t going to look very fondly on such a scenario or request, no matter how much meaningless gold he gives hir.

      So of course, ze gives him his just desserts. He thinks it unfair that a human should sire a demon? Well, now he is a demon himself. All is right with the world, to everyone but Valiant anyway.
      (It is also darkly ironic, that Tieflings often have virtue names – meaning that Valiant would be considered a perfectly normal and valid Tiefling name. XD)
      Though, I do wonder how much this change might unhinge him. After all, what little of his morals that remained were on the basis of him being a human, and so ””better”” than his tiefling son. Now that he literally considers himself a monster…what kinda acts does that mentally free his conscience from feeling cognitive dissonance about, I wonder?

      In any case, a very amusing and satisfying AU story this week Weller! Great work! ^w^

      1. I know that meme XD “Sicko” (affectionate)

        Wraithvine is becoming part of Kosh’s world, though ze may not turn up in Kosh’s book. I’m still deciding on that. Might happen long about the Thrice-Sworn King storyline.

        I love the taste of just desserts. So very sweet and tart and bitter all at once. Yummy.

        Valiant remains the opposite of his name. And now thanks to his own prejudices, he is now a lonely old shut-in who’s angry at the world but won’t do anything because also terrified of it.

        I just hope he has somebody willing to shave him.

  45. Thunder Avatar
    Thunder

    A Life Undone

    By Thunder

    Being summoned to the bedchamber I shared with my wife had never been pleasant, but these circumstances were the worst. I walked through the palace alone, the lump in my throat growing larger as I approached. I paused before the oaken doors, leaning against them to gather internal strength before pushing them open as quietly as I could.

    My composure nearly broke seeing her lying there amidst the sheets. So much smaller than when we first met. Age had taken much from her, but the all-too recent loss of her vitality, the energy that had carried us through forty-seven years as monarchs, that had been the worst.

    Fortunately, she was asleep, and the physician slipped away from her side to meet me by the door. “Well?” I demanded in a hushed whisper.

    “It isn’t good,” he responded nervously. “Barring a miracle, she will not last the night. She might not wake again.” I let him go after that.

    I sank down into his chair, simply holding her hand as she slept. She stirred only once, squeezing my hand before quieting. “Almost time,” I said quietly as the room began to grow dark. “We had a good run. The children will manage fine without us, regardless of what they think. Not that I was ever much use after the war.” I tried to laugh but only sobbed.

    My wife passed shortly before midnight. I waited with her another hour before leaving, stopping only to tell the guards to inform the children. I took nothing but an old, tattered cloak with me when I left.

    The old pond hadn’t changed much in fifty years. She was waiting for me, of course, perched on one of the rocks, eyes lighting up when she saw me. “Welcome back.”

    “As agreed,” I said tiredly. A wave of her hand and it was over, my life undone as I hopped back into the water of my youth. The pain of old age melted away as I regained my original form. But as the sun began to rise, the memories began to flood in, and I wept.

    1. How could you. I just wanna go back to sleep, but here I am, close to crying.

      That first line already had that feeling of “uh oh, something’s wrong, something’s very wrong”. And through pretty much the whole piece I was wondering who would be ‘no longer human’.
      I didn’t expect him to turn out to be actually not completely human to begin with, even if it’s not outright stated what exactly he is. That was a nice surprise, and I liked the fact you left it kinda open. I just wondered who that second ‘she’ was, that was a bit confusing. (Probably due to word count?)

      But, yea. Very nice, very sad. Thank you for writing and sharing this, I like it a lot.

      1. Thunder Avatar
        Thunder

        Sorry about the tears. Hope you got back to sleep ok.
        I guess mild spoiler but the second ‘she’ was supposed to be the witch/fairy/spirit that originally turned him human. Word count spoiled it a bit.
        Thank you for the review

    2. I loved his reaction to the news the physician gave him, it shows just how much he cared about her, although the first line could be interpreted either as him not having a good relationship with her instead of him just not wanting to hear the news about her state, the later of which was probably the one you tried to show.

      I enjoyed the twist at the end where he turned out to not be human, it reminds me of a bit of a reverse version of The Little Mermaid I guess? Which is an interesting take.

      I loved your writing Thunder, please keep doing it in the future.

    3. Sniperaxiom Avatar
      Sniperaxiom

      I really liked this story! It was a cool way to use the prompt! He was a frowg :.D! I love it. I really like how his pain of losing his wife drove him back to his pond.

      My question is, when it said, “my life was undone,” does that mean everything was like- undone? Or was he just turned back into a frog? Did the lady, (whatever she was) turn back the clock?

      Anyways great job, I really enjoyed this :D!

    4. Flamekin Avatar
      Flamekin

      I really like this! Fantastic use of reversing a fairy tale around, (or an epilogue, one of the two) I was questioning when the reveal would come, but I didn’t expect to have the MC never really be human to begin with, thank you for the story, i enjoyed reading it!

  46. Cursed Existence
    By Taja DaLeen

    I am no longer human.

    I was cursed by a higher being, to feel these feelings, to make these experiences.

    And I hate it. They make me feel like a monster, an abomination.

    By now I know I’m different from the people around me. They are not burdened with these thoughts, with having their existence have that kind of “higher meaning”.

    I am only here, talking to you, to make a point. To tell you to be careful.

    My feelings, my experiences are not my own. I know that now. They are preset, decided on by someone else than me.

    No, it’s not something like “fate” or “destiny” or some crap like that. That would be too kind. It’s simply some being that ultimately doesn’t care.

    It just wants to tell you about all of this.

    I am merely the template, a medium through which you are told a story. My own character, thoughts and feelings don’t matter at all.

    Or what I want. Nothing ever matters.

    I’ve been reduced to a narrator, there’s hardly anything human left about me.

    Ever since I’ve been burdened, cursed with this knowledge, I’ve been wondering. And it won’t stop.

    I wish I could make it stop, but I can’t. There’s no possibility to unknow all of this. No matter how much I wish I could.

    That being probably could make me forget. It can do anything. It can build worlds, fill them with life, and just as easily destroy everything.

    I just wish they were more mindful of what they are doing.

    And I wish they never ripped my humanity away from me.

    But then again, as a fictional character, was I ever “human” to begin with?

    1. I really didn’t expect the twist about the character being aware that they’re the narrator, it’s an interesting take and it makes me want to go back to writing that one story I still have undeveloped…

      And it was interesting how the narrator lamented their own existence and brings up really fair points that I would totally ask the person writing me if I was in their place.

      Overall I really liked it!

    2. No. You’re literally a character written by a human. You don’t even have a form. You could be a pair of floating eyes for all I know. You could have the godlike figure and luscious locks of Moistcr1tikal. You could be the world’s most relatable turtle. You could be John Cena.😀

      On a serious note, this really touches on the thought I think every writer has. Talking to their own characters face to face. I imagine a long explanation of origins, purpose, importance, anger, and a tearful apology at the end.

      I like the notion that this character used to be human before the writer made them self aware. Which then they became blank, faceless, only given a form if the writer makes it so, or if the reader imagines it so. The monologue of the character kind of identifies them as more of a passing thought, like WE could be in the grand scheme of things.

      Very existential. Now take this very real like.

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was great!

      I often muses about the power we have over our creations, but I don’t think I ever delved into the question of cursing one of them to muse for me in such an horrific way. You are a cruel writer, Taja!

      Seriously, this was amazing, and it raises a lot of interesting questions. It is a very meta existential horror story. And here I was thinking that abandoning a character was the worse we could do to them… perhaps it is the best, maybe then they can live their own lives without our scrutiny and influence. Perhaps?

      Anyway, words cannot convey how much I liked this one. I have absolutely nothing to critique about it. Great piece, amazing thoughts!

    4. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      That twist at the end was striking. It put everything that came before in glorious perspective and made me audibly go “ooooh”.
      Makes me think of the idea of immortality through memory. If your life story is passed down the ages, you live on in some form. In that same vein, a story should also be able to create lif. How many souls have been created for no other purpose than to dance on strings?
      Of course, your greatest crime, Daleen, is making your creation narrator aware of you and your role in it’s existence. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
      Great work.

  47. RainyDay Avatar
    RainyDay

    To think I was once human is a perplexing thought. These memories that swirl inside my head each seem like they belong to numerous people in this stifling crowd. They are of such a wide spectrum that it is hard for me to reconcile with the fact they must belong to a single life. Surely it is not the same person who would protect their mothers smile with the pain of death, that would mercilessly slaughter another shielding their child with their own body. Maybe I was that child, for in his eyes I saw the love for his people that mirrored my own.

    That child grew up hearing the tales of the ‘others’, “Oh they look just like us”, he was told. But do not be fooled for they are demons sent to deceive or scum we were meant to cleanse the world of. The child was sure he would be able to glean the truth from their eyes.

    The soldier all grown up was able to tell the difference, so could his fellows when they went to battle together. Their skin a bit different, their tongue strange, their garb well… interesting. But he avoided looking into their eyes for they were a mirror to his own. It would feel like destroying a part of himself bit by bit. When one day nothing remained to be destroyed, it was those eyes that used to be a connection to whatever made him human, became wholly other.

  48. Galen Baumgartner Avatar
    Galen Baumgartner

    Passing
    by Galen Baumgartner
    Inspired by a real-life event.

    “Oh… I’m dying.”

    That’s what Gerdy said when the doctors let him know his body was failing for the last time. Two of his surviving children, both of them old women now, were at his bed side, along with a couple grandchildren, a grandson and granddaughter, just outside the sliding door to the hospital bedroom… was it the ICU? The Emergency Room ward? Gerdy couldn’t tell anymore.

    Gerdy did not have much energy to speak; he was at the end of his life and finally knew it. It wasn’t just the doctor; he could feel that the fight was over. The fight that kept him clinging on to life from China to Peru to Europe to Israel to Iran to Russia and more. The fight that kept the flame of belief in something greater than himself, a message he desperately wanted to spread to the whole world, a legacy that had spread through millions of people’s hearts. Not a conquering of land, but a conquering of the heart and soul. Not by force or conversion, but by gentle offering to people curious to learn.

    One daughter, the younger of the two spoke up: “Well, I guess your pain will end. You will be with Melanie soon.” Compassion lined the elderly face of Gerdy’s daughter; no tears were needed.

    Melanie, the love of his life, second only to his Faith. The one that was wild and crazy in all the right ways, who loved computers, who never backed down from the craziest challenge, who went with him from Florida all the way to Alaska and so much further beyond. The one who winged her flight to that great beyond several years prior.

    The one no longer human. Soon, that special connection between soul and body that made Gerdy who he was would soon be cut as well. And Gerdy knew the time was near.

    There was reminiscing about the old times their large family had gone through; Gerdy interrupted it with four words:

    “I want to go home.”

    Many hours later, his body would die, and Gerdy as he was would be no more. The body was buried a few months later; a formality. Gerdy was already gone, his soul lost to the mystery of death. The body was no longer human.

    1. Awww, this one hits really hard. I think most of us have lost someone at this point and I do like the very spiritual, accepting nature of death that comes across throughout the piece. I think that’s what I like the most about it. It’s definitely sad but that hopefulness at the end is really sweet and makes it even more emotional on the whole.

      Amazing take on the prompt!

  49. Sniperaxiom Avatar
    Sniperaxiom

    My poor girl

    By Sniperaxiom

    My heart dropped at the noise of bullets biting through the metal skin of my P-47. Being 30,000 feet in the air a guys gotta trust his ship. My girl was working hard to keep us up.

    Her oil line got hit, sending the greasy brown liquid onto the jammed plexiglass canopy. I couldn’t bail out, I couldn’t see.

    “Hold on you beautiful doll!”

    The bandit dumping bullets all over my girl suddenly stopped the barrage. I watched as his plane’s yellow nose pulled up beside me. He maneuvered his pristine FW-190 into close formation.

    We made eye contact. Needless to say, I was dumbfounded. The smaller plane’s pilot waved to me then sent a military salute, confused, I returned with a timid wave.

    Then the plane pulled away. It flew back the way it had come. I was amazed! This was my supposed enemy, sparing my poor girl who was already limping across the sky when he had found her.

    A fellow knight of the air! Honor and all!

    Those were my thoughts until that bloody devil lined up his accursed yellow-nosed plane on my six.

    I looked out my window as well as I could considering the oil, to see this imp pumping led into my girl. “Thump, thump, thump!”

    “Crap! Cmon girl! Stay up!”

    She was gonna blow any second I know it. We would be sent careening to earth in a dramatic display of fire and metal.

    Every maneuver I made was a miracle that her tail didn’t tear right off. The bullets still continued along with the thuds of them peppering the metal all around me.

    He stopped the shots. Flying close beside me I saw the face of the other pilot once again. He gave me another salute. He was TAUNTING me!

    I was going to WALK across the sky and ring his neck. Cursing out loud I couldn’t do anything. Who was this guy? To not only shoot at an already crippled aircraft but to also mock the pilot?

    Now this was just some punk that needed to be downed.

    1. Galen Baumgartner Avatar
      Galen Baumgartner

      This is a beautiful analysis of how people acting very human create a distorted perception that twists other humans as something inhuman! I love the color of the piece, the desperation, the realization of how the main character perceives their adversary. I love that, as a reader, I know that both protagonist and antagonist are human, but I also know exactly why the protagonist views their antagonist in such a cold and calculated manner! Revealing, entertaining and insightful, great work!

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      I’m a sucker for the aesthetic of 1920’s, 30’s, and 40’s. This was written so much like a film form the 1940’s that I honestly imagined the whole story being in black and white. In terms of story, I really like how much like the protagonist we only have a narrow window to look at the events through and we don’t know exactly what the other plane is doing or why. This lack of details leads to assumptions and subsequently the main character’s dehumanization and villainization of the other pilot. Great job!

    3. VENJI THE VOID Avatar
      VENJI THE VOID

      I loved this story a lot ,loved the action and the fact that it eas 2 fighter planes well fighting
      I love how the main character I it thinks of the opponent as a devil do to his actions
      And the love the main character had fir his plane
      This was a great read for sure

    4. I really like the style of writing here. It feels like I’m reading an older novel by it’s simple yet experienced tone. It knows whats it’s getting across.

      As for the human aspect of this story, I gotta say it’s a really human experience. An American fighter pilot, dogfighting with a Nazi pilot, saw what was typically a friendly gesture turned into an immediate betrayel of the American’s assumptions, thus re-dehumanizing the Nazi. Go figure.

      I also really like the juxtaposition of dehumanizing a human and humanizing a machine. Because the machine doesn’t betray the pilot, it just stops working, but the human does. It really shows where the reliance on others can be misplaced at times, in this case a war. Where trust is in your tools, yourself, your allies, and rarely in your enemies.

      Which reminds me of the Christmas Truce of 1914. Where troops on all sides of a trench war started their own unofficial truce amidst ww1. They sang carols and passed around gifts like cigarettes and plum pudding, even showed each other their trenches, and lit christmas trees.

      It’s a time in history where a ceasefire only lasts for an important moment. Where I’m sure the question was brought up at some point, ‘how long will this last?’ ‘Will we just shoot each other when we meet again on the battlefield?’ The answer of course is yes. We see the human in each other, but it’s what the human in front of us stands for that makes them dangerous. And that is the tragedy of it. If you can’t change the ideal, you can’t change the human, so the human must die.

      This was really nice to read. Thank you for sharing.

  50. Bring It In, Bring It In
    By Marx

    Shayna sat up in shock. Sounds were louder. Colors were brighter. Smells were more potent. She could actually taste the air. And her body felt… off. Not in a bad way. It just wasn’t right.

    She turned to see Matt’s conflicted face, before he suddenly hugged her. That was when her recent memories came to the surface. “Oh Hell… Did I die?”

    Matt slowly released her. “No. You didn’t.”

    “But you sure as Hell knocked on her door.” Mara giggled. “Next time you should try keeping the blood INSIDE your body.”

    “Thanks for the tip.” Shayna replied dryly, rolling her eyes at the demon’s sense of humor. She looked down and surely enough, the horrible gash across her belly was nowhere to be seen. “What happened? Why do I feel so-…? I don’t even know what I feel.”

    “I… healed you…” Matt muttered, avoiding eye contact. “I thought I might’ve been too late and… I… went a little overboard…”

    “A little?” Mara laughed. “Your panic went full ‘We can rebuild her. We have the technology.’ Or… magic, I suppose in this case.”

    Shayna nodded, understanding now that she wasn’t on some odd adrenaline high. This was just… HER now. “Am I… still human?”

    “I don’t-”

    “No.” Mara interrupted. “Before he tries to sugarcoat it, you are in no way human anymore. We don’t know what you are.”

    “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose.” Matt growled.

    “But I’m not a demon?” Shayna’s eyes narrowed.

    “No.” said Matt.

    “What else can I do?” Shayna asked, looking intensely at her hand as she moved her fingers.

    “I… don’t know.”

    Shayna nodded in response as she stood up so fast it was a blur. “Sweet. I’ve got some training to do then.”

    “Wait… what? Shayna, I need to fix this.”

    “Fix what?” Shayna picked her discarded blade from the ground. “I’m a demon hunter and you made it easier for me to kill demons.”

    “But-”

    “Thanks for saving my life.” Shayna gave Matt a kiss on the cheek and then she was gone.

    “But…”

    Mara playfully nudged him. “Ya big ol’ softie.”

    1. Galen Baumgartner Avatar
      Galen Baumgartner

      Wow… it took me a couple reads to really understand what had happened in the story, but once it clicked I got it. Great exploration of what makes us human; is it the species we are? Or is it the individual inside the flesh, the personality of the individual member of that species that makes someone human? Can someone still be “human” and no longer be home sapients? I love that the subject of the story just carries on as if this was just another phase of her existence, which catches the protagonist by surprise. There is a lack of conclusion to this piece, but that is probably by design; it leaves readers wondering what else is out there for these characters, and that kind of speculation is always entertaining!

      1. Thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it! I do try to leave my endings with enough questions to make the reader curious so I’m really happy that it worked out so well.

        And Shayna absolutely is the kind of character who would just brush something like that off as long as it seems like the result benefits her, as this one does.

        Thanks again for the review!

    2. Bruh! Who wouldn’t love turning into a supernatural being that’s beyond human and demon? Not the guy from Akira that’s for sure. I really like that Shayna immediately accepts this, probably for that reason.

      I mean being human is overrated. And we call our behavior ‘being human, and apply that to anything that shows human like qualities, without realizing it’s basically the same as any other race of beings calling our behavior ‘being Klingon’, ‘being Elven’, ‘being Chin-chimeny-chimchim-charoo’. It’s not really special.

      But I digress.

      There’s a lot happening in this short story. Newfound power, a development in the relationship of two characters that warranted a kiss on the cheek, a mystery of the main characters biological and/or magical identity that could spur a new arc.

      What an interesting adventure.

      Now bring it in. Bring it in. Bring it in. Bring it in. In. In. In. Here’s a like.

      1. Lol that’s exactly how Shayna would see it. Especially as a sole mortal among demons, angels, deities and the like. A mortal trained to kill demons with some magic knowledge, but human nonetheless.

        It is the kind of thing that would get her hyped. Probably helped even the more because she almost died because of being so fragile.

        Glad you liked this so much! Thanks for the review!

    3. I’m now wondering if there’s an immortal hyperactive bird flying around the world now. Or was it a squirell? *gasp* Is this the origin of Sonice the Hedgehog?

      This was a fun story, and I’m intrigued that Mara made that reference. Is she fond of late night reruns or something?

      What I’m most curious about is HOW is she not human? Is she like, a magical cyborg now? New parts that are faster and stronger? Or was she changed in a more fundamental way?

      I loved the final line. Makes me want more of the core tried, Matt, Layla, and Mara.

      Hmm. Now that I say this, has it been a while since we’ve seen Matt? Feels like it.

  51. Skeleton Avatar
    Skeleton

    Consummate (The Will) [Content Warnings: Body Horror, Fates worse than Death]
    By Skeleton

    Eymir was dead—his head severed from his limp body.

    Zaila heard the bandits playing with the head as if it was a toy, but her eyes could only watch the black stump that was his neck.

    He had told her not to come.

    Why? Why?! Why hadn’t she come sooner?!

    The dragoness felt her rage building inside, but something primordial kept it from bursting. Her legs would not move as if she were cornered by a monster—no, the god of monsters.

    That was when she saw the arm slither towards them.

    The skin began to stretch and peel, revealing the molten shadows underneath as it made its way towards its prey.

    By the time the man had realized he was dead, the arm struck out like a silent viper, its fingers—fangs that crunched through the skull. The others were forced to watch as the fur and body began to drip with black tar, consumed into the elongated arm until the extremity was left on the empty ground.

    Zaila realized that they felt the same as her: paralyzing fear locking their muscles from doing anything as they watched as several more bodily vipers climbed out from the arm.
    Hesitation killed them before the corpse did.

    All at once did the otherworldly weapons strike, impaling and clasping onto the bandits as they tried in vain to escape the inevitable. Each one screamed—ripped out their nails and claws in the cobble street being pulled into the black mass, engorging it with more to grow from.

    And then they were gone. Nothing was left as the arm retracted and returned to its original form at the side of its master. A pale façade once again returned to the flesh as the headless body stood, pacing slowly towards the discarded head. It consumed it like the rest as another regenerated in its place. Its face a cold, neutral gaze as it surveyed the area for more.

    It walked away, leaving nothing living in its wake.

    The lie he told her meant nothing to Zaila now. Human or not… Eymir was still Eymir.

    Right?

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