They tend to be forgotten or not mentioned they are those who bring ragnorok, The rokkr would be loki, andrabogda, nidhog, sutra, hel, and jormangondr

Ok this is too good. Now I'm imagining the entire white house huddled around a tv with popcorn and blankets ready for a marathon

[removed]

How do you know his life is boring? What's wrong with boring? Exciting at my job means fighting and gun threats, I'm happy with boring days.

Thank you! I didn’t know about the Rokkr

“… is.. is this supposed to be a war beast? Did they send this to try and kill me?” I say out loud, looking from the small dog up to the enemy battalions a hand full of miles ahead of me. They weren’t moving, so I assumed they really did send this beast after me.

The beast was unmoving, growling, barking, and howling at me, as if it was challenging me to make a move. “You are either the boldest or dumbest warrior I’ve come across on the field of battle. Surely you must be able to tell I’m a god.” I crouch down, thrusting my war scythe into the ground.

The beast didn’t back down, continuing to bark and growl.

“So, you’re determined to defend your master, hm?” I say, looking into the beast eyes. “Mm, very well.” I said, standing up and taking my war scythe. “Your master and army shall be spared, but those who dared to commit crimes of war and claimed them in my name shall die, and only them. That is as far as I shall settled.” I begin to walk past the war beast towards the battalions, knowing most of these men will know my wrath and live to tell the tale.

It used to be that I had all of the time in the world

to make my name

That was yesterday

It used to be that your honors kept being unfurled

now I ended up tame

youth has gone away

And the hopes that I would reach you

have faded like a sun-bleached poster

gone

with the coming of the dawn

Used to think I'd die before I grow old

Now I'm old before I die

No matter how hot blooded I get in the cold

More proof that I couldn't be the guy

And all the thoughts that I could reach you

making me able to chill the most here

sacrificed

and I still don't get to make nice

I emerge to shaking,

never making any sense

a victorious secret

made up to be in the past tense

And all the hopes that I could reach you

Won't happen until I'm on my cloud

Life just had me plowed

Youth is over, too damn sober to let it go

The cocoon's open, the dream must go then, to let you know

To let you know

Jeff placed another potato in the press and watched as another bunch of fries fell into the basket. Back and forth, the repeated motion was soothing on his weary soul. There was no higher purpose here other than making burgers and fries for Frank’s Burger Shack. The food was mediocre at best, and the pay was garbage. But it was everything he wanted in his life these days.

“Frank! Get out here you greedy pig!”

The sound of shattering glass and a woman screaming broke his Zen-like state. Heat more intense than the grill suddenly tickled his back. He turned to find a young man standing in the doorway of the burger joint. The glass panels of the door lay in a shimmering pool at the feet of a hulking demon. Flames curled up the creature’s arms and flitted around the horns atop its head.

There was a softer crash from the office in the back. A few seconds later, a disheveled man burst into the dining room. A red mark on his cheek and a damp spot on his shirt suggested he had been napping. Frank never did more work than was necessary.

Bleary blue eyes blinked at the flaming demon and the ruined entrance of the restaurant. “What’s the meaning of this? What the hell’s going on?”

The young man grabbed a tray and hurled it at Frank. “You think you can treat my brother like that and get away with it?

Jeff let out a soft sigh as he pulled a batch of fries out of the frier. Frank had a nasty habit of verbally abusing his employees. But in a small town with no major chains, there were few stores offering jobs to the younger generation. And Frank knew he could get away with a lot because he was buddies with local law enforcement. They believed in ‘tough love’ as much as Frank did.

“You fired my brother after your negligence caused the accident! Why should you live while his dreams die?” The young man waved his hand at the cowering customers. “Drozamos, kill them! Kill them all!”

But the hellish creature did not move. Instead, its tail curled around its legs, and it bowed its head in subservience.

Jeff finished making the latest order before setting down the spatula. “Drozamos. How’ve you been? Is your partner well?”

Drozamos let out a rumbling growl. “They’re healthier these days, milord. Business is slower with all those exorcists running around. We’re supposed to be careful when coming to the surface.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “This is being careful?”

There was an audible gulp before Drozamos said, “It was supposed to be a simple grease fire. But my contractor…”

The ex-employee’s brother sneered. “I paid the price! Bobby just wanted a simple job to make some pocket money. Now, he might never move his hands again! They all deserve to die for supporting this pig!”

Jeff clicked his teeth in irritation. It must’ve happened during the night shift.

“Jeff, you bastard! You know this monster?” Frank, having apparently forgotten the danger, jabbed a finger at Drozamos. “Get that freak out of my restaurant!”

A spike of irritation flashed through his brain. Echoes of a past long abandoned demanded retribution in blood.

Instead, Jeff took a breath and said, “Please shut up, sir.”

A sliver of power slipped out from his control and the air shuddered. Drozamos’s summoner stumbled backward looking pale. A damp spot appeared on Frank’s pants.

“I had a good thing going on here, you know?” Jeff patted the cheap, painted surface of the service counter. “I’d rather not let it go.”

Drozamos responded immediately. “Of course, milord.”

“The people, I can fix. They won’t remember this.” Jeff waved a hand and the customers blinked sleepily. “Let the customers go. They don’t deserve this. They just came in here today looking for a cheap, halfway-decent meal. Not like this town offers much else.”

The young man puffed his chest in rage. “I – ”

But the flames behind him dissipated, allowing the customers to file out in a trance. Once the last car had left the parking lot, Jeff turned to Frank. “I’ll fix this place, but I expect continued employment and no questions asked. Do you understand?”

There was a thud as Frank fainted in fright. Jeff took a breath and reeled in his aura.

“Drozamos, go back. Your mission is complete. Here’s a bit of soul energy as payment.”

The demon blinked in surprise before stammering, “Thank you, milord.”

In a puff of brimstone ash, a portal appeared and swallowed Drozamos. As the smoke cleared, Jeff approached the only person left. The young summoner trembled as he realized he was alone.

“Now then, young man. You and I are going to have a little talk about responsible demon summoning.”

...

Another quick story today.

If you're interested in my works, the archive of my various writing responses can be found in my writing portfolio, link through my profile. There's also an original story, The Crossroads.

Thanks for reading.

Not sure there’s enough vitriol or televangelist for pat. But I kinda ran out of steam before the end. I just couldn’t think of any good things for them to talk about.

Just wait until the next DLC drops

(edited to include title)

​

ROUNDABOUT.

​

There's too much time for reflection, these days. Too easy to sit up, sit down, say nothing. Their thoughts run quickly- too quickly- everything they say gets caught behind their teeth. That's not my name. You're a bit of a dick. What do you think you're doing? Can we leave now? I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here with you. I don't want to be with you.

​

But they don't try and interrupt. They sink into the couch, down, down, down. Watching the smiles and smirks they flash each other throughout the back and forth (his smile shone brilliantly- that's, perhaps, the only honest compliment they can give him).

​

Eventually their drink runs out, and they have a reason to escape from the conversation. They flow through the party wordless- a familiar specter flitting alongside drunken dancers and high spectators.

​

It's not the first party they've attended. Not the first party they've attended with him. They've gotten good at being able to tell how long they can spend in the bathroom, in front of the mirror. Just- staring. Their reflection looks tired. A little pale. When was the last time they'd eaten?

​

They haven't had much of an appetite, lately. Eating forces them out of their room, into the kitchen, makes them vulnerable for conversation with their roommates. They always feel like they've misquemed, somehow. That they committed some unspeakable wrong by returning to his side.

​

Their fingers twitch against the porcelain, too weak to strangle it. So what if they did? They can't tell them that- then there'd just be a litany of we told you so, you should've known, what did you think was going to happen?

​

Nothing. Really. Maybe they thought he'd have grown up in their years apart. Maybe they thought he'd gotten better, somehow. But he's just gotten better at talking. That's all. Talking them into coming back, into partying, into trying whatever's on the fucking table. He settles back into the well-worn grooves of their skin, a childhood friend turned lover turned-

​

They glance away from their grimace, down into the empty sink. A frantic, heavy knock rattles the door and they sink in on themselves, shoving off the sink and running a hand through their greasy, unwashed hair.

​

Their time alone had come to an end.

​

Returning back to the coach feels like a jury's verdict.

​

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

I had almost finished the last of the army, covered in blood and out of breath. Inhabiting a mortals body was worse than just doing it in my own. I walked slowly to the last man standing and raised my blade ready to end his suffering.

He throws a small creature at me in desperation. It was fluffy almost like Cerberus but much much smaller in size. I could see it was just as scared as the fat man who threw the poor thing but it stood its ground. It let out a small howl to the best of its might.

I was surprised it could do so. The closer I looked at it, the more I realized it was a howl of pain and not aggression. It was thin and malnourished, and had scars everywhere. This only made me more furious. I dashed to scoop the little thing into my arms, in doing so plunging my blade into the heart of the previous owner.

I took the small hellhound back home with me, tended to her wounds, and made a connection with her. I then took her to get a new collar and named her Samaria and she is now my battle hound.

What a pitiful excuse for an army.

Bodies lay scattered about the grassy plane, torn asunder by my might. Mortal men are but wheat to my scythe when they are foolish enough to draw my ire.

Their rotting corpses would make for a prodigious crop in the coming spring, I mused.

Lost in my thoughts I no longer felt the pinpricks of mortal steel. I cast my gaze on to their battle’s lines. Rows upon rows of broken men shook and stared in awe up at me.

“One of you Chihuaua’s had the gall to defile my temple and harm my priests and think I would not seek reprisal for this offense.”

I paused scanning the mob before me. Blank faces stared about in confusion as my statement was met with silence. Somewhere deeper in the crowd men wept openly and without shame.

Their ignorance and weakness will not save them. I smiled a nasty grin.

“I give whoever did this the opportunity to stand as champion for your people to atone for this grievous offense to me and my pe- “

“IT WAS ME!” Howled a man from somewhere in the crowed. My gaze floated lazily in the direction of his voice. A small man even by the standards of the Chihuaua. He walked, shaking as he did, towards me though he continued to bark as he approached.

“You have no power here! We are followers of the Shelar and your worshipers have no place here!” The crowd seemed to take some courage from his words and started yelling in unison with him.

“NO POWER!”

“SHELAR WILL PROTECT US!”

And on and on it went.

They prostrated themselves calling to their God to save them, tore at there clothes and debased themselves in a most unhuman manner. Unfortunately for them Shelar knew where they stood in the pantheon and had decided well before I took to the field to cut their losses.

A pity really, it’d been too long since I’d fought another God.

I grew tired of this spectacle and in one swift movement took the small man up by his neck and lifted him to look at his people. He would bear witness to what I was capable.

“You and your people bark and howl like wolves, but when it comes time to bear your fangs you whimper like lambs at the slaughter.” I whispered in the ear of the man. “You people thought yourself large and beyond my reach, and for your folly I will make you small and despised among the tribes of men.”

With a wave of my hand the masses of men before me changed, growing smaller and the mass weeping slowly turned slowly into snarls and yips. As I walked through the crowd of small dogs, they parted ways in fear but continued to snarl.

I threw the man to the ground and turned my back and started walking back into the space between worlds leaving him with a few last parting words.

“They will say of the Chihuaua that they are all bark and no bite.”

Beautiful

Great writing I enjoyed it even though it feels to short.

Quick note: I know this doesn't have much weight on the story but when it comes to norse patheons there's actually 3 the aesir, the vanir, and the rokkr. Freya is a vanir and only married to odin to end the war between the aesir and vanir.

Part 2

I had made this potion with intent to destroy my old self. No one had made me. I smiled at Egbert then frowned; he was in pain. I rushed back over to him. "Egbert, what's wrong?"

Egbert mumbled his eyes scrunched up in pain then his face relaxed. He opened his now glassy eyes. "You. Freed me?"

"What? I just-" I paused, how do you explain that you took a love potion on purpose. Since it was without duress I still had my senses but I also couldn't undo it. Not that I wanted to.

"Oh no." He sat up. I’d never seen such gentleness in his face before. "I'm so sorry." Egbert put his hand on my face. I leaned into it.

I let the moment wash over me. I didn't know why he was sorry. I expected him to sneer at me. I didn't really care. This was better than my original plain of dying of a broken heart.

"What do you want?"

"You." I didn’t dare hope.

Egbert looked as though he was going to cry. "Besides that?"

"To make you happy."

A tear fell from Egbert's eyes. "Do you have another one of those potions?"

"No?" Was he hoping that I’d help him catch who he really wanted? I wasn’t sure that my love for him was selfless enough.

"Could you make another one?"

"Why?" I asked, jealousy biting at me. I pulled away. I guess I wasn’t selfless enough to help Egbert be with the person he truly desired. I needed him to know that all I wanted was for him to love me back. Me and me alone. I knew it was selfish.

"To marry you." He grabbed my hands.

“You don’t need a potion to marry me.”

“But I do. It’s not fair to you. You deserve better.” If it weren’t for the love potion I might have thought he was in love with me.

“You don’t have to pretend to love me.” It hurt me to say it.

Anise.”

"Marry me, Anise."

"What?"

"Marry me. I'll take a potion too. I will give you the same devotion you've given me. Then we will go from there."

I kissed him. It was better than any of Irena's kisses had ever been. In those only I had meant it. Here he meant it too. At least hoped he did.

“Is that what Irena does?”

"Is that her name this time?" I laughed. It was a strange relief to know that I still hated her.

"Have you been avoiding her?" He looked overjoyed.

"Maybe. I just wanted it to stop. The whole ‘chosen one’ garbage, I can’t." I shook my head. "I figured this would be better."

“What is your name this time?”

He took me to his castle. He put a halt on his campaign. I insisted that he wait till our wedding night to drink a love potion. I wanted him to be sure that he wanted to do this. He set me up in a lavish suite. He got me any potion ingredients that I wanted. And made it so that I could do whatever I wanted in the royal kitchens. Empress Anise had a nice ring to it.

"Hey." I felt a hand shake me awake. I looked up and saw Irena loom over me. "Come on." She said, "I'm going to get you out of here."
"Whats going on?" I put my most vulnerable voice on.
"We don't have time for this." I had never noticed just how cold and calculating her voice really was.
"But I don't understand." I sat up and shrank back.
"Fine." She shoved a vial of something under my nose. "This counteract whatever he's done to you."
One sniff told me everything I needed to know. I smiled right before I stabbed her.
"What? That should've worked."
"It should've." I agreed. "But these past few lives I've begun to question some things."
A weird expression passed over her face before she gave me a pleading smile. "Lives, what are you talking about?"
"Why did you give me a love potion in aerosol form?"
"Don't be ridiculous. It was an antidote.” That was a half truth. “Look, whatever he's done to you we can fix this."
"He hasn't done anything to me. And don't bother pretending to be attracted to me. We both know you prefer men." I wasn’t entirely sure if that was true but she'd only ever cheated on me with men. Even on the rare occasions where she was born a man.
"Ash," She pleaded. "Please, he's done something to you."
I tossed a bandage at her. It wouldn’t do for her to bleed out before my revenge was complete. "My name is Anise."
"I meant Anise."
"No you didn't. Because, I asked Egbert not to tell anyone my name yet. Cloak me in mystery and bring you right to me."
"But you're the-"
"The chosen one? Yeah, I decided it was high time to choose. I chose to be empress Anise consort of Egbert."
"This isn't you."
"Guards!" I grinned and this felt good. "It is now."
The guards rushed in.
"Seize her."
Normal Irena would've given more of a fight. But she'd lost to much blood. I located the truth potion. As the guards held her on either side I forced a dram of it in her mouth. Naturally she tried to spit it out.
"Do you remember our former lives?" I asked
"Yes." She hissed.
"Do you know why they keep happening?"
"Because I deserve power! I picked you! I made you ! I-"
"I've heard enough. Take her away. And inform the emperor."
"You'd be nothing without me!” She screamed.
"Bye!" I waved. "Make sure she receives medical treatment. I want to send her a piece of my wedding cake."
Unfortunately, I was never able to send her a slice of cake. Irena died trying to escape. I knew all of her tricks and she still thought trying to escape was a good idea.
My wedding was perfect. It would've been perfect anywhere. I was irrevocably under a love potion afterall.
Egbert took a strand of my hair. "Before I drink this. I want you to know I love you. I always have. I don't know if this matters to you anymore. But before Irena's curse never took us. I was devoted to you." He drank. "And now I always will be."
"I wasn't in love with you before." Guilt made me say.
"I know. I never expected you to love me. Even when the curse filled me with bloodlust I wanted your love."
"You have it."
"I wish I'd earned it. You deserved that."
"But you did earn it."
"I didn't but it's nice of you to say so."

Any minute now we're going to be ambushed. Then old Johan here would die heroically. Part of me wished I wasn't a girl this time around. He was always more fatherly when I was female. I had been through this song and dance so many times. Honestly at this point I was just feigning incompetence. Johan deserved that. Last we went through all of this I fought at my true best. The poor guy stilled and died.

I've decided to try something new. Something I know Johan wouldn't approve. It might mean his sacrifice was in vain.

Johan screams. I jump up because Honestly I'm probably going to die if I don't go through the futile motion of helping him. I destroyed enough of the evil emperor's lackeys that I wondered if there is a child somewhere that is vowing revenge right now. Let the little bugger come. It's one of the only interesting things that come from these cycles at this point. Because at least that changes from time to time in this cycle. I get to Johan and sure enough he's choking on his own blood. I've done this so many times that sight is no longer shocking. I bend down and pull out the bandage I have saved for this moment and try to stop the bleeding.

"You need to promise me." Johan grabs my wrist.

I look at him with what I hope is a brave face. But deep down I know it isn't. I've given up. I'm just tired. I just can't do these cycles anymore.

It was a nice feeling when I set up shop. I considered getting married but decided against it. Whatever, was keeping me trapped in this cycle would probably just use such a decision against me. Besides I didn't have anyone in mind, the only reason would be to spite the princess or was she a prince this time. I was paying as little attention as possible lest she find me.

The first year after I set up shop I heard that the princess had been captured. I pretended to think this was bad news. Sure she was a good leader but she made a terrible spouse. And let her walk all over me. I was pretty sure the magic that kept me trapped in this cycle made me fall in love with her. The princess for her part wasn't built for monogamy but pretended she wanted to for the prestige of marrying the chosen one. I read her journal once I realized that she was always on the lookout for another lover. I know, jerk move; but she kept marrying me and then doing every man she laid eyes on... I wanted to know what I was doing wrong… I just wished she’d commit or not commit.

As I reveled in the smell of yeast, the door of my bakery was flung open. I glowered at the all too familiar form who was currently tracking snow into my reputable establishment.

"Close the door." I snapped. "You're letting the cold air in."

"Don't you know who I am?" The Emperor said in his most menacing voice as he closed the door.

"His imperial majesty emperor Herbert. What can-"

"It's Egbert this time." His jaw clicked shut.

"This time?"

"Nothing, you misunderstood."

"Oh, I don't think I did."

"Fine. Every time you defeat me I'm reborn. And do this song and dance because-" I feel the magic snapping around him preventing him from saying what he really wants to say. His shoulders stiffen and in a voice that doesn’t sound quite right said, "I like power. I want to see you squirm."

I walked up to him. "You're here to kill me or make me kill you?" Before he can stop me I pull a strand of his hair from off his head.

"I'm going to kill you!" His eyes are just ever so slightly too bright.

"I'm sure you are but I have a contingency plan." I turned around. If he stabs me in the back so what?

He doesn't stab me though. "I can't wait to see it." He smiles coldly. “Seeing you fail completely will-”

"Please." The word uneven and desperate. And I can't help but wonder if he knows that I want to give up this game.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be alright." Not exactly a promise but it does the trick. Johan relaxes for one strangely beautiful moment. He looks as though his cares are gone. I twinge of guilt because he believes I'm going to do my job as the chosen one. But I can't. I won't.

And then the lights leave his eyes. It reminds me why I'm quitting. It hurts, and the cycle just restarts itself over and over and over. Nothing changes.

I shake myself. I can and I will change this. I gather up all of the money and supplies. I make way to some town that has never played any role in any of my lives. I managed to buy myself an apprenticeship with a baker. My favorite lives were always the ones where I grew up in a bakery.

During my first year as an apprentice I'll admit I was jumpy. Part of me was convince that Johan was going to crawl out of his shallow grave and tell me how disappointed he was with me. My apprenticeship went smoothly and the only really exciting things that happened were the occasions the emperor conquered the odd territory, committed this atrocity blah, blah, blah. I was just numb it at this point. All that mattered what I was going to do if anyone from the cycle showed up to put me back on track. So I made a plan for each scenario. I wasn’t proud of some of them.

I pulled out the potion I had made just for this occasion out from under the counter and put the hair in it. "Bottoms up."

"Wait what are you doing?" Then he grabs his head as though in pain. Not the reaction I’d have now that I’ve handed him a complete victory.

As potion spread through me, life now has meaning again. Intellectually I know this was the most twisted and bizarre solution I could’ve come up with. But it made me feel better. I no longer care that Johan would be broken-hearted if he knew what I had done. The best part was this couldn't be undone.

[removed]

I don’t know what I was thinking with that sentence. I fixed it.

Low Tide in Fel-Worth: Part 3

Read part 1! And part 2!

The story thus far: Dyarosa, a nymph and sister to Kellic the satyr, is being held captive by a gang. Kellic and Julia, a human witch, are searching for her.

Dyarosa wondered what Kellic would say if he could see her now, a captive to bandits. Probably call her a naive nymph–as if her very nature misquemed him–like he did when she dithered over their exodus from the cool forests of the Appalachians to this dusty city of Dallas. But they’d lived in such a fine, secluded grove, and–

Pelon poked his bald head through the plastic sheets. She almost dropped her shears in fright. She avoided his hollow gaze, focused on the delicate roots of the mother tree instead.

“Hurry it up,” Pelon said, gesturing with his fat-barrelled lead-belcher. “Or I will burn you and the hierba.”

“Yes,” she replied hollowly. Dyarosa knew she was dallying; one whisper, and she could coax this mother kanab into a new pot. After that, they would transport the mother to another location, to harvest her limbs again. The kanab with its saw-like leaves and sticky flowers was well prized among even her kind since time immemorial, so Dyarosa understood the tree’s value. And her own.

Had she been naive? Had a thousand years of growth and reflection still left her with the mind of a child? She’d asked herself the same bitter question day after day since she’d been locked in this dank room.

She thought she’d been shrewd, working with a human whose eyes were open to the greater mysteries of the world. Pelon had seemed so kind at the start, his smile shining brightly. He showed her the sad state of his plant, and they struck a bargain: some human coin for Dyarosa’s services for two days. Kellic was always harping on the need for currency–maybe this would show her brother how useful she could be.

But the bald man had tricked her, cast a ward to lock her in. The pulse of chaos magic made her fine moss stand on end. Getting close to the doorway singed her skin. Two days had turned into two weeks, just her whispering to the mother tree to make her grow quickly, and giving the bandits cuttings to plant. She’d forgotten the kiss of sunlight on her body, and a touch of her head found the wilted husks of her once rampant crown of leaves.

In the first days of captivity she’d imagined Kellic coming to her rescue. Later, shivering against the dirt floor, she’d found a new dream: her hands, wrapped around Pelon’s neck. Even in an endless age of wandering, the thought of killing humans had never even occurred to her. It was like thinking of a world without love, or trees, or magic. Even in winter was the promise of regrowth, but in death there was but one promise. It scared her.

Voices shouted from the grow room. Her dallying had to come to an end. She clipped the last root and crooned to the kanab; the mother grudgingly lifted her bones from the dirt, and allowed herself to be settled into the new pot. Behind her came the crinkle of the plastic curtain. She turned, carrying the mother tree in her broad arms.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Pelon grunted and gestured. She felt a tingle as the ward vanished. Another hard-faced man, weapon unholstered, watched to see if she’d run.

Then, on the far side of the room, the sheet-metal door burst open. Her brother and a human woman spilled through.

“Kill them!” Pelon shouted, thunder erupting from his lead-belcher. Somehow, the bullets sprayed in random directions, hitting everything but the pair.

“Kellic!” Dyarosa shouted.

Her brother, stubborn as ever, charged headlong through the grow room, scattering boxes of flowers everywhere under the harsh fluorescent lights. Within moments he covered the distance, crushing the hard-faced human to the wall with his horns.

The human woman intoned something and gestured with her hands. Pelon grinned and gestured back. In the center of the room, the air cracked like glass, an eye-watering rent in reality.

Then Pelon leveled his weapon at Kellic, and fired. The bullets found their mark.

“No!” Dyarosa screamed.

She had felt anger before, but it was a candle flame to the inferno of fury roaring in her breast. She called to the thick roots deep under this building.

They answered.

Gnarled white strands shot up through the ground, piercing Pelon in a dozen places. The man spasmed once and died. Dyarosa expected to feel some sense of satisfaction, but she only felt tired.

Her brother still breathed, though he was a ruin of blood.

The short human woman holstered her weapon and held up her arms in placation. “Let’s carry him outta here.”

“Little sister…you killed for me,” Kellic gasped, as they lifted him.

She felt empty inside, like heartwood gone from an oak. “Like you always said, I had to grow up sometime.”

WC: 797

Liked what you read? Check out more at /r/gdbessemer!

Small thing , very small but at the start so I had i hard time ignoring it. I think was and what is switched in the first sentence.
Very good no matter what

Congrats, bro! Couldn't happen to a more deserving one!

A Fine Catch

Dilbert watched his father pry two gold teeth out of a skull and wished his grandmother was alive. She'd have prayed as soon as they found it, dangling as if chewing through the bottom of that metal mesh on the crawfish trap. She'd have made his father bring the bones to the sheriff or a church. Maybe baked a sheet cake to raise money to bury it next to that old willow tree that had Spanish moss for hair.

All Dilbert could do was watch as Walter took the teeth then threw the skull back into the murky water where no one would ever find it again. It sunk under the new growth of weeds, the weight of bone and age pulling it down.

He wondered if he'd known whoever it was. He watched his reflection in the water and didn't say anything. His father's hand was hard and he had enough bruises already. At night, he'd lift up his shirt and count them, trying to imagine them as blessings or marks of valor or anything other than strange purple lessons that ached even after he'd healed.

Walter drove a town over to their pawnshop, trading the teeth for fifty dollars and a faded Hulk figure for Dilbert. He didn't want a toy, he mostly wanted to forget what a person looked like on the inside. He stared at the green flesh of the Hulk, imagining it stripped bare. Just a Hulk skeleton.

Dilbert couldn't sleep that night or any night after. He saw a man much like his father only this man had a smile. He held his kid up on his shoulders and their smile shone brightly with bloody teeth. He dreamed they both tried to crawl in his trailer door, demanding he give back what was stolen.

He took his Hulk and a mason jar of peach moonshine his father brewed last summer and rode his bike back out to the river. His t-shirt was soaked by the time he got to the edge and the sun had almost set.

He sat by one of the trees whose roots had dug into the mud, and held up his treasures.

"I'm sorry," he said.

He threw both in the water, watched as they hardly made a splash. He blinked hard as a dark, disembodied hand, emerged from the water to grab them both.

"Thanks." The voice sounded like a chorus of grasshoppers all moving at once.

Dilbert screamed and tripped, getting some of the muddy water on his pants. He jumped on his bike and rode away as fast as he could, jerking the wheel in his haste.

He didn't dream of the man again and he was punished for losing his Hulk and the jar of moonshine but he figured it was worth it.

After that Walter didn't scare him as much. 

WC: 475

Love it! In case you were wondering, this video was the inspiration for the post

The minuscule canid attempted to howl at me and I heard its call as though spoken words. "Come no closer, we love our master, I am as big as you." In all my years of battlefields, there are only two things that have ever given me pause. The first is when terrified troops shove down their fear and spend their precious lives, all to buy time for a general they love. The second is when dogs are equally fearless. You see, when a general's troops love them more than life, when even their pets are willing to risk life and limb on their behalf, those are good people. And I don't rampage to end good people. Sometimes I take those lives. Every single one of them hurts, but then I am the horrors of war. It isn't a good job. It isn't a nice job. And you can be sure that I'm not a force of good or niceness. All that said, I've still never been able to let myself hurt a dog who was that bold, that willing to scream into the storm and bid the winds calm. Another day, another time, I will claim your general little Chihuahua, but not today. Today, your love and fearlessness bought her another battle before the end. Good dog.