“Look, I’m tired. From my timeline, we digest our foods. We don’t use holon lasers to reduce them to sub holons.”

“Ah, I see. Let me scan you with our light spectrometer.”

“Do you mean an X-Ray machine?”

“Essentially, yes. And it has confirmed you digest your food in acid. Tremendous. Off you go.”

“Okay, well then, thank you”

“He said, thank you, Xæ… shall we kill hîm?“

“7ªшя the bitch”

I was a puddle only seconds later, forced to rescale in to a super holon human form over the course of a billion years, which you can imagine put a slight damper on things.

Healer Arlia, the renowned veterinarian for mythological creatures, was in her clinic when she heard a loud commotion outside. She went to the door to investigate and saw a group of villagers dragging a large, wounded minotaur into her clinic.

The minotaur had been attacked by a group of hunters, and its horn had been broken in the process. Arlia immediately went to work, examining the minotaur and trying to assess the extent of its injuries.

The minotaur groaned in pain as Arlia gently touched its broken horn. "Don't worry, I'll fix you up in no time," she reassured the minotaur.

"How bad is it?" asked one of the villagers who had brought the minotaur to her clinic.

"Well, the horn is broken, and there are some cuts and bruises. But with some rest and medication, the minotaur should make a full recovery," replied the healer.

"Thank you, thank you so much," said the minotaur weakly, his voice raspy. "I can't thank you enough."

The healer smiled at the minotaur. "It's all part of the job," she said. "I just want to help you feel better."

Over the next few days, Arlia tended to the minotaur, giving it medication for the pain and infection. She also helped to repair the broken horn, using a special adhesive made from a rare plant found only in the nearby forest.

As the days passed, the minotaur's strength slowly returned. "You're looking much better," complimented Arlia, as she examined the minotaur one final time. "Your horn has healed nicely, and your cuts are all gone."

"I feel much better, doc. Thank you so much," said the minotaur, as it rose to its feet.I

"It is my job after all," Arlia said with a soft laugh. "Helping creatures like yourself."

The minotaur paused, narrowing his eyes. "Do you only help creatures? Or can you help humans too? he asked.

"Just creatures. The world has enough people helping humans."

"Good." The minotaur nodded with determined satisfaction. "I feel better knowing I can break the hunters without you fixing them."

Same, and Oxi-8 sounds like it would make the coffee fizzy

[removed]

Ok but I’m now very invested in this sphinx and need to know if they had to amputate

“Tell us humans, why were you so late to this meeting?”

“Your border security detained us for having stomachs because none of them read their briefing on humans.”

I just knew I shoulda stuck with Mars. These other goddamn planets got about as much interspecies awareness as them early humans. I'd bet ten right now that not one of the paunchy officers lining the Venus gate like a bunch of guard dogs read the interspecies manual. Limestone-loving little shits.

"Its a stomach.", I tell them. They think my stomach is a security violation, dear lord.

It is about as much use as dear ol' Dobby the Doberman back at home, with his ultra-friendly disposition and hug-me eyes. Dobby would help out any robbers himself if they bought him those expensive treats. Makes a whole lotta sense now, considering Lana imported him from Venus. Looks like their people ain't much better than their dogs.

"You tellin' me that you carry around a bag of acid to digest food?", the big guy says. He's green and impressively ugly. Impressively stupid, too, it seems.

"I don't carry it around. Its a part of my body. Evolution, yes?"

The part of my mind that is not occupied with cursing every microscopic aspect of Venus(a very, very small one. About the size of the average Venusian brain, I am sure.) is torturing me with visions of the craters I had booked, cloudy blankets and gorgeous views. If Venus does one thing right, it is hospitality.

I try not to think about how I learnt that. Thinking about Lana never leads up to anything good, Luckily, I have loads of practice not thinking about her.

"Oh, sure. A bag of dangerous acids is a part of your body. One hundo percent sensible. Exactly the sort of thing evolution would go around supportin'", its the lean guy asking for a punch this time, with an expression I decipher as snooty on his slimy little face.

Idly, I wonder if Venus is so good at hospitality because all the big brains went into tourism. Not even the average Venusian could be this mind-numbingly stupid.

"The acids aren't exactly open to the elements, all right? And I'm sorry humans are too tough for your delicate little Venus-bred sensibilities, but we gotta eat a couple more things than Venus limestones."

Their piggy little eyes narrow. Venusians are surprisingly sensitive about limestones. Well, good riddance. I am surprisingly sensitive to perfectly ordinary parts of my body being banned from the airport.

"What's wrong with the limestones?"

"Its not about the goddamn limestones."

"Its always about limestones.", this time it is a wide girl in the back, prissy ears perked up. SHe looks young, as Venusians go.

"Not this time. Right now, its about the fact that I booked a perfectly good crater for the night, I've got light years of jet lag, and I'm about ready to punch everyone here in their fat, ugly faces.", I said. Or, well, I thought. The words never did breathe the carbon dioxide of Venus's atmosphere.

Look at me now, Lana. Never let it be said I couldn't control my temper. Anger issues, she used to say. Hell of a woman. She would have gotten through here in a second , though, serpent-tongued snake as she was.

"Look.", I tell the guards tiredly. "I cant exactly detach my stomach because you dont like it."

"Yes you can.", Miss Its-always-about-limestones is back with her crap. "I've got a limestone for that."

A new wave of exhaustion crashes over me.

"Do you.", I ask, "Do tell."

She pulls out of the considerable layers of scales lining her frame a limestone-long and thin and green. Its kinda pretty, really, relative to the average limestone. Not that that's high praise, because most limestones shared with their planetary neighbors this trait of astonishing ugliness.

Huh. I hadn't expected her to actually have the thing on her. Venusians were usually all talk when it came to limestones. The thing doesn't look very trustworthy, anyway.

"You're supposed to eat it." she adds helpfully.

I take the limestone. This is exactly why I disapprove of these one-jun peddlers on the street. The thing could be poisoned for God's sake.

"Yes, Doge, eat.", says the punchable lean guard.

"Its Doug."

"Earth names are so hard to remember.", fat dude complains.

Funny, that, considering the average Venusian name sounded like a keyboard smash. I'd give you an example if I could remember one. khnenfjoweurngkd sounds like it would exist somewhere, so lets go with that.

"Anyway.", I tell them, exercising reasonable safety precautions which clearly only exist on earth, "I'm not going to eat that. It could be poisoned for all I know. It could shrink me to the size of a thimble."

Rumor has it that happened to a Martian once. Cunning creatures, these Venusians.

"It's green, human. Its perfectly safe. Now eat, or leave.", fat dude is competing hard to get first place in my black list. Do Venusians get awards for being inconvenient pain-in-the-necks?

I eat the limestone. That little piece of A-level decision making was conducted by the part of my brain still dreaming of cloudy bedsheets , and blows right up in my face thirty seconds later. A small, hard piece of something makes itself comfortable at the junction of my throat and palette with no warning at all.

I lean over and spit out. A very small, very stomach shaped thing drops out. It sets up all the alarms the Venusians had just switched off again.

I am getting a very bad feeling in places where my stomach ought to be. It feels like something should be churning, but the organ up to doing it is currently resting innocently on the concrete, about the size of my pinky.

"What the hell.", I say flatly. God, this day is just getting better and better.

Venus version of the devil picks up my stomach before I can digest everything that just happened. Digest. Huh. Thats funny. Maybe I am in shock.

She tucks into her purse my stomach. My brain is breaking a little bit and I think it would be really nice to not have to think right now. I wonder if she would have any limestones for that.

"You can have this back when you come back out. You'll be just fine if you dont eat anything, dont worry. Do drop in, won't you?"

The guards have their filthy Venusian hands on me, pushing me through the gate. A dollop of self preservation kicks in, and I turn. I'll need my stomach back someday, after all.

"I don't know where your house is!"

"Oh, darlin'. I don't do houses."

The Venusian smiles, wide and pretty, and suddenly she is about as Venusian as I am. She winks, trademark Lana wink, the same one she gave me in three hundred first-motels-from-the-planet's-centre, the ones she always took. The ones I used to take with her.

I remember why I stopped.

My world falls through.

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I was slightly disappointed that they didn't comment on him cracking his back, but this story was great

"That's the 10th time you people have said I'm smuggling something and it's just not true." Doug was beginning to wonder if someone somehow sedated him during his journey and put something inside him.

"Show the scans please" said the officer to seemingly empty air. After a brief pause a hologram flashed into being. At first Doug was confused until he realized his middle was slightly brighter. He squinted through his foggy brain and further realized it was his stomach.

"I was told that snack I ate was simply condensed flavored vegetable matter. If there was something harmful in it I had no idea!" Doug immediately started thinking about everything he ate and drank while on board the last ship. "Wait, you aren't one of those species harmed by water, are you?"

"We are not" answered the officer. "Stop evading the question. How do we remove it?"

"Remove what" exclaimed Doug exasperated. "I haven't eaten or drank anything since leaving home that could even be remotely harmful!"

The officer sighed. He fiddled with a control and the hologram changed to a stomach. "This container inside you has an insanely large volume of acidic fluid that could kill everyone on this station if aerosolized."

It finally struck Doug what was happening here. The realization served to calm his nerves some and he chuckled.

"Do you find that amusing?" The officer pounded the floor in anger.

"No, sorry, I just figured out what is going on. That is a naturally occurring organ in almost all creatures on my home planet. We ingest solids, then that organ secretes an acid to dissolve it so the nutrients can be absorbed by our cells. It would be impossible to remove it without causing my death."

The officer froze aghast. There was a moment of total stillness and silence.

"That has got to be the singular most inventive thing a smuggler has ever come up with to try to get out of being apprehended." The officer stated with an amazed tone.

"I swear to you it's no lie. Go look up the species Human in your data-net link." Doug now knew he just needed to educate these beings then he'd be on his way.

After being left alone for an uncomfortably long period of time the door swung open and the increased gravity shut off.

"We apologize for the confusion and time" said the same officer. "We had to come up with a whole new classification for your species. We appreciate that you didn't just get up and walk away now that we know that high gravity restraint was useless against you."

"Hey, don't worry about it" replied Doug magnanimously. "Just get me on my way, and I'll be happy." Doug was already happily thinking of the sleep he was about to get on the next ship.

The security officers quickly turned off the gravity to the scanner so that the human floated helplessly in the center of the spherical room. The clear protective barrier on one side showed that one officer was still there. A flash of movement at one end of the window was the other officer rushing out of the control booth.

"What is going on" demanded Doug loudly. "Did the gravity plating malfunction? How long am I going to be stuck in here? I have an appointment!" While he couldn't do much more than flail about, his stomach was reminding him that last in flight snack was a long time ago and that weightlessness does not sit well with humans.

He heard a clicking sound as the officer moved what Doug assumed was a microphone closer. "Do not struggle, you are not going to be able to sneak your contraband through this gate. We have caught you and you will be detained for questioning once backup arrives suitably attired." The translator the officer was using was top notch, Doug had to give them that. His own mark 6 was now 4 generations old and he had been putting off upgrading until prices came back down.

"What" he exclaimed. "I have no contraband! I barely even have any luggage! What am I supposed to be smuggling?"

The speaker clicked again and this time Doug say the officer push a control before speaking. "You and I both know the hazardous material you have had implanted. You must be desperate for income to have subjected yourself to the dangers of smuggling so much acid. Just remain calm so we do not have to risk breaking the vessel inside you trying to subdue you."

Doug was feeling the mental fatigue of the hours and light-years between home and the here and now. He understood they thought he was smuggling some hazardous substance, but for the life of him could not figure out what. He was used to random security sweeps due to him being a heavy-worlder, but after a brief frisk and scan for weapons he was usually on his way.

"Seriously" he said tiredly, "what are you talking about? I have never had surgery to add or remove anything to my body. I even still have my appendix for crying-"

The exit and entrance doors to the scanner opened simultaneously, startling his already frazzled nerves. He saw light all around him and couldn't figure out what was happening. The officers that came in and surrounded him were all obviously under the effect of the gravity plating, but he was still floating helplessly. He soon realized this species must have figured out localized anti-gravity fields or something.

He felt all 4 of his extremities being grabbed all at once and he glided toward the floor. Once he gently made contact he felt gravity resume and for the first time since leaving home he estimated it may even be Earth standard.

"You are being subjected to incredibly high gravity so that you are unable to resist. If you somehow eject the vessel containing the acidic fluids it will not even make it past your own body. I suggest you willingly surrender so we do not have to risk your life trying to determine how to sedate you." Doug could not see which officer surrounding him spoke, but there was an air of authority to the voice that screamed 'in charge.'

"I surrender! Whatever it takes to clear this up and get back on my way, I have an appointment!" Doug was getting a little worried now. There are so many species that what can render one unconscious is generally lethal to others. He only had one life, and he didn't want it to end playing Russian roulette.

"That is well" said the same officer, "we will now bind you and then remove you to a containment area so this scanner can be returned to use. We have a quota to keep after all."

After a brief and somewhat embarrassingly invasive search he was bound. They used their Doug decided he was going to call it a gravity field gravity field to float him into a room. On the way in Doug noted the door frame sat in the middle of a very thick wall. He noted that there were several different materials layered in the wall.

"Is this going to take long" Doug asked, "cause this weightlessness is starting to make me nauseous."

"What is nauseous?"

"Very uncomfortable sensation that can cause humans to regurgitate our stomach contents" answered Doug. He hoped his translator had words for those concepts.

"Turn off the field" ordered the officer with the in charge attitude. "We will have to use increased gravity to restrain you in place then."

"That's fine, just no more zero gravity please" complained Doug. "I'm already jet lagged enough as it is I don't need to add being sick to it."

"Now then" stated the officer once Doug was suitably heavy. "Our scans detected the highly acidic fluid you have had put inside your torso. If you tell us how to remove it safely we can remove the high gravity and other restraints."

#I DEMAND A RESOLUTION TO THIS CONFLICT!

You did good.

They always thought themselves funny, superior, hell they even felt they were obligated to my stuff. In the end though it was me who had the last laugh; “Jesus” they called me, mocking me, thinking that they could just carry on with super strength or speed, some even with flight. What’s their powers compared to a god, to a messiah. “Hey John” I stated as I started my usual trek up the stair of the academy.

“Look here boy, Jesus decided to show up again” John started on again in his typical manner to his so called friends. I heard them talking about John behind his back, they despise him almost as much as me, they call him lucky, the strongest of us all. John was blessed with the powers that you would typically find in that of a comic book, he had super strength, speed, agility, even flight.

“Look John, nows not the time to start.” I say as I push past, “just let me get to class.” “Alright man, care to take a little joke” John tries saying as I round the corner of the hall. As I make it to class it’s followed by the usual day, same old boring school, then it’s to our power training. Everyone looks on in shock as John carries on pummelling the training dummy, not me though I’m just bored.

“Good times were had back then” I think before starting to wake back up to the ruins of the city that was once my home. “It’s a shame it never lasts” I said to no one in particular, John had let his power get to him, no one thought it possible, that the ‘strongest’ would turn on us. Well they thought wrong, he turned as soon as he felt it was better than our leaders. Before his downfall people were terrified, they refused him, he didn’t like us but he sure as hell made us an example to the rest. Once this city was gone something inside me snapped, my friends, family, even strangers, all gone to a man thought a god.

“O Johnny boy!” I shout “Come in out, don’t you care about cleaning up the last of your mess!” I wasn’t making a scene, oh no, to me this was a declaration. I will be his last victim or maybe not, who knows. I could hear the helicopter in the distance, they wanted footage of the destruction, they always did.

“Jesus, what a surprise. I didn’t take you for the survivor type.” John said as he was in my face in almost an instant.

“Count me lucky I guess” I say as I watch as John suddenly starts to convulse, blood, or what I now assume a blood whine mixture start pouring out his mouth. “Next time, when you call someone Jesus. Make damn sure they’re the first you kill” I leave John with that as he falls lifeless to the ground. The news helicopters watching on as the horror that was plaguing us ended, but they had no idea what to think of me. I sure as hell won’t give them a chance as I walk away into the distance.

It’s my first time writing one of these so let me know your thoughts.

The dictionary definitions that pop up at the top of google don't seem to specify whether it's an acid or a base, just that it can chemically corrode.

“Move!”

Shahid took wobbly steps out of the dungeon, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brilliant desert sun. Though it was dusk, after being held in a windowless cell for twenty-eight days, he wasn't used to the light.

The guard prodded him in the back with the barrel of a rifle, pointing him toward a spot in the compound far away from any of the buildings. Dried blood stained the ground all about it.

As he shambled over, he took some grim satisfaction at the guards’ evident fear of him. The extremists that had captured him to cover up their horrific crimes clearly hadn’t expected a six-foot-four giant wielding a telephoto lens as a flail. He’d taken three out of commission before being brought down.

At last, Shahid reached the bloody spot. One of the guards smashed his shins with a baton, and another rammed the butt of a rifle into his back, driving him to his knees. They put a sack on his head, and began speaking; he recognized their words as a prayer for the dead. He offered up a silent prayer of his own.

If I am to die here, let me be a martyr for the truth. However, if life is still good for me, oh most merciful one, then let me live!

The executioner’s blade touched his neck. Shahid held his breath, waiting for the end.

Instead, he felt a thump, then heard yelling from the guards. Gunfire erupted near him, first in staccato bursts, gradually morphing into a continuous din. He then heard a distant explosion, followed by screams. As the battle raged on, Shahid laid on the bloodstained ground, still as death, trying not to attract attention, hoping against hope no stray fire would hit him. As the thunder of guns waned, he heard nearby footsteps, and felt a hand on his back.

“He’s alive!”

The shackles on his hands and feet were undone, the sack was roughly pulled off his head, and he found himself looking at a young man in a sand-brown military uniform.

“Can you walk?”

Shahid nodded.

“Excellent. Come with me!”

The other man put an arm around Shahid’s back, and jogged him over to an idling truck. Slamming the door shut, he waved as the truck drove away.

Shahid waited for his heart to stop racing, then spoke.

“Thank you for saving me.”

A seasoned-looking soldier spoke up. “Well, Mister…”

“Shahid al-Sadiqi.”

“Mr. al-Sadiqi, I can’t take credit for that.”

The vehicle slowed to a stop, and another soldier climbed in, a large rifle slung across their back. They doffed a sand-covered camouflage suit, revealing a youngish woman with skin bronzed by the desert sun.

“She’s the one you need to thank. She shot your would-be executioner.”

“I see.” Shahid raised his voice. “Miss…” he peered at the woman’s uniform, “…Keener?”

The sniper’s cold grey eyes locked onto his own. “Yes?”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

She nodded. “Just doing my job.”

******

WC: 496. Feedback welcome!

As the Backyard Scientist proved, the household items are enough to build homemade rocket fuel

And sadly as Beirut demonstrated, regular fertilizer is enough to make explosives

This was brilliant

[removed]

this is tier 1. Great job

I appreciate, the goal I had in mind was to kind of give an exposition type of story, giving us an introduction to the vampires and the abandoned house, maybe the main character, if it’s to be decided that she lives through this.

[removed]

This would be a good start to a book or series, really. A group of friends. A dare. An attempt to tell the police about what happened. An abandoned house and disbelief. And... boom! A ragtag group of teen detectives figuring out about vampires.

Just needs the old, cantakerous people who know the truth but can't or won't do anything about it.

The air seemed to crackle with tension as the Intergalactic Security officers approached the human. His haggard face, decked out in a few days' worths of stubble, betrayed his state of exhaustion, while his eyes glinted with a mix of fear and desperation. The officers had been tipped off about a human attempting to smuggle a mysterious container of caustic liquid past the warp gate, and here he was -- standing awkwardly in front of them with his suspicious cargo in hand.

The lead officer stepped closer and spoke in a slow, menacing tone. "What do you have there, citizen?" His voice echoed eerily through the near-empty spaceport as he gestured at the container.

The human gulped nervously and looked from side to side before stammering out an explanation. "It-- It's not what it looks like! I was just trying to get home after a long trip and my… my stomach was feeling kind of empty, so…" He trailed off, realizing the gravity of the situation too late.

The officers exchanged dubious glances. "Your stomach?" one said slowly. "What is this 'stomach' you speak of?"

The human blinked in surprise, realizing he'd made a mistake. "Ah, right. Um… well, you see, a stomach is what humans have inside their bodies to… uh, digest food and--"

The officer's face twisted in confusion. "What are 'bodies' and 'food'?" he interrupted.

The human sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. He was beginning to understand why these officers were so suspicious of him -- he was speaking an entirely different language! He quickly tried to explain the concept of living organisms and eating to the increasingly baffled officers, but it was no use -- they simply couldn't comprehend.

After several minutes of confusion, the officers eventually realized that the human wasn't attempting to smuggle anything after all. He'd simply been trying to get some much-needed nourishment after a long journey through space. With a few embarrassed apologies, they left him alone to buy his food and head home.

As the human watched their retreating figures, he couldn't help but shake his head in bemusement at the situation he'd just found himself in. He'd come so close to getting arrested for something he hadn't even done!

Still, one thing was certain: from now on, he'd never take for granted the simple act of eating ever again.

Like an alien TSA agent