Please update the story!!

I always desired power, why exactly?

Was it because little Timothy decided to break my little nose when I asked Julie out? Maybe I just needed to prove that I was worth something. No, I just couldn't stand being weak, my father always told me I was a failure and It should've ended there, it should have ended there.

I sit up and search the floor for my slippers and find the pair tucked just under the bed, I reach with my feet and slip them on. I hear the meow coming through from the bedroom doors direction, Felicity, little black gem of a cat. She keeps my twisted mind straight and narrow, I really must feed her, I really must feed her.

I shuffle out of the bedroom and slowly take my steps down the stairs and go into the kitchen, I weigh out exactly 210g of wet food to put into her bowl for after my coffee, I've never bought this brand before, she needs this for the morning, she lets me know when she needs this.

I make my morning coffee, sit on the dining chair and continue with my morning ritual with my phone in one hand, I scroll and scroll through to the latest news and see what I was looking for, Magniman and pals have saved the day again! Great news, they are new, but, they are doing the best work I've seen in a very, very long time.

I get up and shuffle to the dish washer, open it up and slide my newly used cup into the correct slot. I take a glance outside my window and see a familiar face that I have just seen. Magniman staring directly back into my eyes with a hollow expression, but how unusual? My home is extremely far away, I made sure of this, I paid a lot of money for this. My eyes disengages his to satisfy my alarm to look lower, half a body? Why is Magniman holding half of a woman's torso? His eyes continue to lock onto mine, I am the Gazelle, I can feel it.

I dash upstairs as quickly as my legs could take me and hide under my bed, my brain is still trying to process what I have just witnessed. I hear from downstairs the door crashing open and a small quartet of voices from below, all I can hear is the bass from the voice, all I can feel is the sounds.

"Do you think he saw?" Treble spoke.

"He must have, I saw him looking directly at me during clean-up" Magnibass exclaimed.

Meow

My Panic intensifies

"I saw you go upstairs, I have X-Ray vision you know." Magnibass then continues "You have such a pretty little cat! I used to have a few of these, my mother always said I was too rough with 'em."

I slide out from under the bed and make my way down stairs, I am zoning out again, I hear the sounds again and again. as I reach my last steps I see them all in their brightly coloured outfits, Felicity in Magnimans left arm purring away.

".. What do you want from me Magniman? I assume there isn't any trouble here" I sheepishly reply

"Oh, no, of course not! I just want to make sure we understand what we saw." Magniman is different to how I imagined, is he a villain I wonder? The others seem to be playing along with his game. "I just want to make sure you understand, what you saw I mean." he continues.

"What is it you want me to have seen?" I bargain, "Nothing." He pats my should with his hand that is free, the others look nervous. "But you must understand what happens if you did." He swings a punch straight in the centre of my face, knocking me down and breaking my nose instantly, blood all down my new shirt, it hurts but I'm too shocked to render an expression on my face.

"I will be taking this little one, always wanted one of these." He keeps stroking the now silent Felicity.

I look up at him stone cold, him and his entourage turn around and move to the door, I can see they are preparing to fly away I would assume, Magniman looks over to his companion.

"Diaman, maybe lets clean this on-"

Diaman's face spasticated in a way no human could ever comprehend, his bones bend in unnatural positions, reciting the hollow clicks with each repetition. Magniman's hollow face matching the events unfolding, shuddering.

I fly up as if my body acts in reverse, nose reforms and blood flowing back into my body with Magniman and his last two companions just staring at me with hollow eyes.

"Her name was Julie wasn't it?" My voice beckons his response.

"H-H-How did you know?" One of Magnimans henchmen retorts, Magnimans eyes still locked onto mine, his pupils dilating, the sweat slowly dripping.

"I never asked for your input." A thousand deep voices cry.

Suddenly the henchman disappears, then enough blood to fill a human body appears and splashes to the ground, then next an arm, a leg, a torso, another leg up until finally a disfigured face appears. Magnimans' eyes are still locked onto mine the whole time, and mine his.

"Wai- Wait, I know this power, it can't be! He's dead! You'r-" his last henchman brought to a sharp stop, his lungs suddenly implode and blood spurts out violently. Just as he is falling down, like in reverse, his body returns to it's previous state "No! WAIT PLEA**-**" Pop. I was already bored of that the first time around, his lifeless body slams against the floor for good this time.

It should have ended there, Felicity needs to be fed, She lets me know when she needs this.

"I really must feed her, Timothy." My voices soothen.

"How are you alive? The world watched you die?!" Magniman existentially questions with a limp expression and body, Felicity jumps down now and purrs while rubbing against my leg.

"We cannot die Timothy." My voices laugh "Everything repeats itself, I am merely an Echo."

His eyes finally disengage mine, his eyes drag down to see Julie's half torn body, and looks back up at my smiling through the window.

I hope Felicity likes her new wet food, though I don't like the sound of screaming much.

​

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First story, I'm not a great writer but I got bored at 6 AM. <3

More please

The first time I met Sarah Coopers was when she tried to rob a bank. She entered in full Flame Witch costume, the one with her instagram and twitter handles across her back. She spent the longest time setting up a Rube Goldberg machine in the lobby that terminated by shooting fireworks at the sprinkler system. The fireworks missed, of course, and ended up surprising a kid on her fifth birthday. The crowd applauded and the Flame Witch sulked her way out of the bank after refusing a tip from the kid's mom.

The second time I met Sarah Coopers, fine, the Flame Witch, was when she tried to rob me in the middle of Times Square using only a lighter and a ball of twine. I let her tie me up, and when she messed up the knots, people from the growing crowd stepped in to help. Then, she threatened to set the rope on fire, but discovered her lighter was empty. The rain would have made it difficult anyway.

As she tried to light the lighter with its nonexistent fuel, I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. To my surprise, she laughed too.

Sarah untied me, red either from embarrassment or her Flame Witch makeup. I offered her the money in my wallet, a single twenty, but she refused. Neither of us had an umbrella, and by then we were soaked. At least let me buy you dinner for the effort, I said. She said okay.

We ate at the diner, and those eggs and hash browns warmed us up like hot coals. She told me how she first learned card tricks from her mother, who raised her alone after her father pulled a disappearing trick by stepping in front of an oncoming semi. Sarah grew up thinking her mother had superpowers, and that Sarah might also get them one day. When Sarah discovered her mother was just a stage magician, and not one of the many superheroes and villains she idolized, she was crushed. She ran away from school to find herself, and her mother died in a gas explosion before she found Sarah.

That was when the Flame Witch was born.

What about you, Sarah said. I told Sarah about my superpower. It wasn't an impressive one, I warned her. I had the ability to be at the right place and the right time. For what, I never knew, but I'd usually figure it out after the fact. One time I'd bought bubblegum at the convenience store that sold the 1.2 billion dollar lotto ticket.

That's not very useful, she said, laughing like a flickering fireplace. Her messy red hair had grown wavy as it dried.

At least I get front row seats to a performance, I replied, even though I don't realize what I'm there to see.

Do you ever get it right, she asked. Do you ever know why you're there, and what you're meant to do?

Sometimes, I replied. I was beginning to think this was one of those times.

After talking for long time, we parted.

The third time I met the Flame Witch was on our wedding day. She tried to steal something that already belonged to her.

Okay, she accidentally set fire to the table cloth too. But I don't tell people that part.

The Mari Lwyd as the sassy best friend in a knock off cheesy Hallmark movie. Feel free to make everyone part of the LGBTQIA+ Community though

Apparently these people have never heard of John wick

Ain’t none who knows of me no more, my name been lost too long. My job is simple, I keep the magma flowing; keep the ice from freezing all the land.

Not much to it, I’m not a volcano god just a simple magma spirit. Used to be something more though, I used to be married to a great giantess. I was her real first spouse, well before the incident that is. See my land was altered, I’m not sure if you understand what that means because those reading this are human. When land changes certain spirits are directly affected. Some die, others change, the lucky ones can go elsewhere.

Me? I was changed so much my own wife did not recognize me. She cast me out of the house claiming we were never married. My very existence was rewritten, and of course time erased what little knowledge of me existed from history.

For centuries, no eons since then I’ve simply gone through the motions. Tending my magma fields and lava tubes. Keeping the ice from freezing everything, heating the land from below so life can flourish.

So imagine my surprise when a few days ago an exhausted human appeared near the edge of my domain screaming out my long lost original name. My first name of all things. That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear. My name was that of a long gone forest on a long altered mountain from which my magma now flows, yet this human somehow knew it.

Curious I appeared before them. Trying my best to appear intimidating I asked “How dare you speak my name? What do you want from me human?”

The small mortal fell to its knees and began posturing like a beggar. Weeping it pleaded “oh please great first yet forgotten husband of Gryla, aid me. Her sons with her most recent spouse have been wreaking havoc across the lands. Please I’m begging you, make them stop.”

Hearing my ex wife’s name stirred something in me, but that was not enough to make me want to do anything about her kids with whatever husband she was on now. I mean the few children she had with me are dead, and she doesn’t remember me.

Yet still, I felt like I might have it in me to help this human if they gave me a good enough reason. So I asked it “ What could these sons be doing that could be so horrible you would seek me out? I am a forgotten spirit, twisted and lost; why ask me for help?”

The human started wailing off all the things these thirteen little brats had done, and by the time they were done I decided to help. Bowl licker, Spoon Licker, and Pan scraper are part of the reason sure.

But the real reason is Door Slammer, what he does is just wrong. And since my ex wife and her now ex husband refuse to do anything, I guess it’s only right I help put a stop to this mess.

I just hope the humans don’t mind the fact magma and fire will be involved. The one who begged for my aid and boon said they won’t mind, but it can’t be that bad right?

Turns out it was that bad, in fact it was worse. But the human begged me with my long forgotten name so I’m going to try to help stop these rampaging lads. After all it feels good to hear it after so long, and maybe if I do a good job helping them out they’ll add me to their traditions.

A forgotten folk spirit can dream, now it’s time to discipline some horrible no good very bad lads.

What's the difference?

The villains killing the innocent would compound on his psyche and that's the point.

So... Both

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Aliens abduct Santa and he has to escape before Christmas is over to deliver the presents

For Rock and Stone!

After trekking through the Goblin Forest for hours, Liana and Robert finally made it out. From there, it was only a short walk to the nearest village, one inhabited by dwarves.

The dwarf village was certainly unique, to say the least. The houses were made of rock and stone, half buried in the ground. They seemed to resemble miniature hills.

Much like the elves in her own village, the dwarves were visibly alarmed seeing the gargantuan robot walk about their land, running inside their homes and peeping through the curtains at the sight.

“It’s okay. We’re friendly!” Liana shouted, to no avail. “Is there a place we can stay for the night?”

“These dwarves do not appear to be comfortable with my presence. Immediate vacation of the premises is advised.” said Robert.

Liana nodded.

“You have a point. Better get a move on, then.”

The visitors continued walking through the village, only to be interrupted by an elderly voice.

“Wait!”

They turned to see an old dwarf woman calling at them from her doorway.

“You’re free to stay with me if you like!”

Before she knew it, Liana was enjoying a delicious meal with the the old dwarf woman and her husband. Dinner consisted of a thick stew filled with carrot, onion and potato. Robert and the woman’s husband, Hammond, were engaged in a conversation about the exact structure of Robert’s body.

“You’re saying that you’re made of sand?”

“Not exactly. Silicon has vastly useful properties that makes them extremely important for use in most electronic devices.”

“You’re making that up. I’ve never heard of such a substance, let alone one derived from sand!”

“Do not feel frustrated. My creators are far more technologically advanced than your kind.”

Liana quickly finished her meal and went to bed, not wanting to stick around to hear the rest of the resulting conversation. Shutting her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

“The Tenebris population is exponentially increasing. If we don’t do anything about this soon, all of Earth will be consumed.”

It was Russia who fired first. When Finland and Sweden were formally admitted to NATO, the Free World began militarizing their borders and funneling in masses of armed forces. We never thought Putin was crazy enough, but we were wrong. Russia declared war, China and Iran quickly followed suit, and the world was dragged into a hopeless war. 

The mobilization of US armed forces created an intractable political divide in the country. Spouts of violence started. First between individuals, and then small militias, and finally entire states. California voted to separate from the Union, followed by New York, then Oregon, then Massachusetts. An already thinly-stretched federal force wasn’t enough to stop them.

Still, the World War raged on. For four years, major battles were fought on every major continent, involving nearly every country on earth. Finally, it seemed the end was near, as NATO forces neared Moscow and Beijing. 

We should have known. Maybe we did, but what could we do. The non-nuclear pact signed at the beginning of the war would never hold. On Christmas eve of the year 2029, a deranged Putin launched every nuclear missile in the Russian arsenal. 

Washington D.C., London, Paris, San Francisco, Seattle, every major city in Europe and North America, was leveled in a matter of days. The retaliation was even worse. Russia, China, and Iran were demolished. Estimates say at least seven hundred and fifty million people died instantly. 

And just like that, the war was over. None of the nations could hope to muster enough forces to continue to fight, and if they could, couldn’t risk the possibility of another nuclear attack. And on New Years day, 2030, a non-aggression pact was signed.

But in America at least, the damage was already done.

I was a nurse before it all happened. I enlisted in the Red Cross, and was deployed, first to a hospital in Germany, and then to a combat hospital in Henderson, Nevada, just outside of Las Vegas. California Separatist and the Federalist would clash frequently there, and it seemed there was no end to the wounded streaming in.

It started when a Separatist, wearing combat fatigues and sporting a rifle slung around his shoulder, walked in with his two young children, a boy and a girl. He seemed confused at first.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Their mother is dead and I have to fight. I’m leaving them with you.” And as quickly as he came, he was gone.    

They rarely talked, didn’t like to play, and had to be taught how to clean themselves. They were the only ones the first few months. Then we got a wounded Colonel. I was administering an IV when he pointed at the two children.

“Who are they?” He asked, in a grizzled military tone. The children looked at him sheepishly. 

“Their father left them. We’re looking after them.” I whispered. He humphed. A week later, he was discharged.

And then they started to come. First it was two Separatist soldiers, with five children following behind them, all looking like they were from different parents.

“Our Colonel said we could leave them here.” We now had seven children. Then twelve. Then seventeen. Then word got to the Federalists. By the end of 2032, we had forty two children.

Every month, it seemed there were less wounded and more children. Reserve forces for both sides were drying up, and neither side could risk an assault. Gradually, and not necessarily by choice, we became an orphanage rather than a hospital. 

It wasn’t easy. Food rations from the Red Cross were scant, and many of the children had faced untenable trauma. Supplies always seemed to be running low. Fortunately, the doctors and nurses who had been treating the soldiers found a new calling in the kids.

We did the best we could, but it was hardly ever enough. Sadness and hopelessness seemed to seep in at every corner. Even the staff would break sometimes. These children had grown up in war, seen the bodies and the injuries, had never had a stable home. Many of them didn’t talk, and many liked to fight. They’d often be caught stealing. 

Still, the civil war raged on. We don’t know how long it will be until it ends, or what the world will look like. It’s hard to say the children can even imagine a world that isn’t war. But we soldier on, hoping one day, for peace.

I can hear the trains come in at daybreak. It’s time to get up.

Groping across the bedside table for glasses, coms, light switch; I hear the hooting of the first arrivals. thirsty. Get water.

Five tracks stretch and bend away from the DaysWard, in shapes resembling craggy cliff faces.

In the initial rebuilding, the DaysWard was simply the Ward. An improvised, shadrack city whose only purpose was triage and treatment.

Smoke in my eyes. Has that been burning all night? dribble water on it. ashtray soggy. finish the cup.

During the rebuilding, the five tracks were all active. Trains came from one empty mega city, two broken municipalities, and two isolated ethnostates.

None were at war, yet. Most were too busy dying.

Now only three trains arrive, and only in the early morning. Anyone over the age of twelve is not permitted on the trains.

I look around the room for my shoes. eye drops?

It won’t last forever. The electronics instructor consistently talks of the day when only two trains will arrive.

“That’ll be the end of it.” his slow Irish baritone mumbles through crooked and broken teeth, “and we’ll know who’s killing us by which one is missing.”

You didn't buy any presents, you live alone. You wake Christmas morning planning to spend the day video gaming in your living room. You walk in the room to find the walls fully decked, complete with a tree and presents beneath it talking up half the room.

More concerning: a ticking sound is coming from somewhere near the tree.

Saint Nicolas bailing out young thieves to give them honest work at the North Pole.

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The family looks at me with shock and fear. I admit, I must be quite the site. I've just burst through the basement door and broke a lamp over the madman's head. But to them it probably just seems like one madman attacked another. In fact, I'm pretty sure I look crazier than the unconscious guy on the floor, with my unshaven beard and raggedy old clothes.

I put down the lamp and hold my hands out in front of me, like Chris Pratt trying to calm down the velociraptors. I don't want them to attack me. I tell them I mean them no harm, and I was just living in their basement for the last few months. This had the opposite effect of what I intended.

The mom in particular starts freaking out. She grabs the kids and pulls them behind her. I tell her its okay, I have just been living there in the basement and eating their food, but I would never do anything to hurt them.

I explain to them that the fight they had about the missing watermelon was actually me. I took the watermelon when everyone was sleeping. I'm sorry that I almost caused a divorce, but also they should probably go to couple's therapy if a missing watermelon could shake their marriage to the core like that. From the look on their faces, this suggestion was not something they received with open arms.

I also apologized for the missing condoms, I had a girl over and wanted to practice safe sex like a responsible adult. The dad's face fell, and the mom looked confused. She said that they didn't have any condoms, she had her tubes long ago. The dad gave me a look that said "You better save this play or I'm gonna kill you."

I thought long and hard about how to recover. Then I told the dad that whenever the mom has friends over, all they talk about is how she is thinking of taking the kids and leaving him. They start yelling at each other. At this moment, I realize I was being naive by thinking the core problem of their marriage was a watermelon.

"I'm sorry, half!?" My voice cut through... whatever was going on. I'd bluescreened for several seconds after Grandpa said I was "half-human." "How can I be half-human?! There's not even... are there other magical races or whatever?" Grandma scooted next to me, and said quietly as Grandpa continued arguing with the principal.

"You're part Fae."

"...So that's why that metal necklace hurt. I thought it just had sharp edges I wasn't aware of when I grabbed it at first." My mind then returned to panic mode. "How'd that happen!?"

"Well, when a mom and a dad love each other very much-"

"Stop it!" I laughed a bit, despite myself. It did help me calm down somewhat. "You know what I mean."

"Well, your father was always one for trouble. Always wandering in the forest when we told him not to, messing with plants and herbs and such..."

"Did he find a fairy circle?"

"And he became incredibly entranced with a fairy he saw through it. We were worried it might have been some fairy magic, but she ended up coming with him to our house after several weeks."

"...Huh. And they want to make sure I don't use any... Fairy magic on people?"

"Correct."

"But I don't have any idea how to do... any of that stuff?" Grandma chuckled a bit.

"Oh, I think you know more than you know."

"Time changes us all" wow that was a great main idea for the audience to hold on to the back of their minds as a start to your story. Big events in our lives can really radically change our core foundations, either for the better or for the worse. Great opening for any apocalyptic setting.

I also liked the first person view narrative, felt real and the main character seemed very likeable to keep the reader invested into reading more. Good job man 👍

I am just a simple caretaker of this reality

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