Zack had no idea why he was there. This was not a part of the city good people went to. This was the kind of place where a guy could get his teeth knocked out for walking on the wrong side of the street. And the less he thought about the store itself, the better.

But he was determined to see this through, even if it could end up with him in a hospital. Besides, he already had ideas on how to get back at the others for forcing this onto him.

He took a deep breath and entered the building. It was a small pawn shop. So small that there was barely enough room to move without tripping over anything. The man at the counter looked like he crushed rocks for fun, and had so much ink that Zack was left wondering what color his actual skin was.

"What?" The man growled.

"Nothing." Zack said quickly. "Just, uh, you know, looking around."

The man grunted but did not say anything. Zack took this to be a good sign and began looking around. Not that there was much to look at. His eyes moved along the few shelves, glancing at the various items.

Old dolls, mismatched keyrings, old instruments, even a worn out hammer. Nothing was really interesting though. Zack sighed and turned to leave when he heard something. Well, not really heard. It was more like he felt something. Something deep down inside of him. He could not figure out where the feeling came from, but he looked around again.

He slowly perused the various items. Suddenly, the feeling came back. It felt old and powerful. And it got stronger the closer he got to the hammer. It was a piece of junk. Covered in rust and sporting a few thin cracks along the side. The head was short and stubby, with one side ending in a relatively large face, while the other side was much smaller. It looked like a pain to use, but he was hardly an expert on tool use.

Zack was about to pass it by when the feeling came back, more potent than before. Without even intending to, he picked up the tool. It felt warm, like it had been bathed in heat for a long time. And when it was off the shelf, his mind began churning. Racing with images, sounds and feeling. Flashes of a massive man using the hammer to strike red hot metal. The sound of hammer and anvil. The feeling of blazing heat.

Suddenly, the visions stopped flashing at a break neck pace, and steadied into the image of the great blacksmith. The man's eyes glowed like hot coals, and his hair looked like strands of hot metal. He was also big. Bigger than the shopkeeper by more than double.

"Hm, not worthy." The man said in a voice as heavy as a mountain. "Not yet anyway. Hm, but someday. Yes, someday you will be. Hm. Go, young one. Learn well. Use my hammer well and restart the Great Forge. Hm. It will not be easy. Very difficult. But it will be worth it. Good luck."

The vision ended. He blinked as his vision returned to normal, and the small dusty pawn shop came back into very.

"Hey. You gonna buy that or not?" The shopkeep rumbled. He looked a lot less intimidating for some reason.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I think I am."

Zack hefted the old smith's hammer and resolved himself to learning the art of the forge. He had no idea who that giant blacksmith was, but it was clearly someone important. And Zack was not one to let a challenge go unfulfilled.

Excellent poetry. Loved reading it.

The customer began: "My dear Sir, I am aware that you are lovers of nature and gua.."
Oh, I wonder when the world will ever know Nature as it truly is. Every human is the same. What are these kids even learning in their schools!

Lovers of nature? Guardian of the Forest? What fools!

I can’t say any of this aloud even though it echoes throughout my mind every time a human meets me to make use of my services.

“Before you say anything, I have to make myself clear”, I sighed.

“There are many druids of nature. We all have spirit animals an- deities? Alright, if it helps you understand, let’s call them deities, yes. Cig has the tobacco plant, Myx has the Siberian tiger, Wik there was blessed by the pine tree. And so on. Everyone is given different ones during our ceremony.”

“So what is your deity then, Maxilius?”, the man before me asked.

“Just Max. Anyway, I was bestowed and blessed by the parasitic worms. On land, water, plants, animals. They are all my spirit animals.”, I replied.

“My duty is not to create a new forest or protect an animal species from danger. I live to destroy, you understand?”

The man looked shocked and remained speechless. This always happens, people expect me to be like the others. The other druids do not like me much because I essentially ruin their work but that’s not my fault. I obey my spirit guide’s instincts and assist my customers for money, just like them.

After several arguments and fights, I opened my shop quite far away from the others. I made this decision when a customer paid me to destroy a few pine trees that had crept up in her house. Wik was livid. He threatened to destroy me, but the Chief dissuaded him.

My thoughts were interrupted by the hoarse guffawing of the man in front. Once he calmed himself, he pulled out a cigar and a matchbox. It looked quite fancy. Fancier than ones Cig helps make.

Lighting the cigar, he said, “Well, that’s just perfect then.”

“What do you mean?”, I asked.

“Now that I gots you, I don’t need niceties. The ones o’er there", he gestured to the main camp, "they don’t understand me, they’re dumbos. I’m a real-estate guy. I got this ugly swamp land I wanna use. Got it real cheap from some sucker.

“I was thinking…why not just bulldoze ‘em trees, dump dirt on that cesspool, build a park, and turn a profit?”

He looked at me as if he wanted my opinion. I gave him the same stone-faced look I gave to every customer’s “brilliant ideas”.

“Anyways, I brings up the tools and those foolish swamp lovers raise the trees and chase my men! They got me ‘dozers too! I want you to show ‘em who’s boss!

“Infest them with your gunk and slime and all that crap of yours. Kid, I tell you..you do this for me, you don’t gotta work anymore! Destroy that swamp for me!”

Well, this was certainly interesting.

All my usual requests hinged on revenge against some particular plants or animals. Giant trees wanting creepers to rot. Rabbits requesting sickness on a flock of deers. Humans who detested cockroaches or lizards in their houses.

“I understood your passionate speech, but I must tell you again. I am a druid of nature.”

“Got it.”, he shouted immediately, “you just gotta kill them all, kid!”

“Kid? I was born centuries before you, child. Mind your tongue.”, I replied with a tone of anger in my voice.

“You don’t look the part, though!,” he laughed before he continued seriously, “Look, destroy the swamp, you gets paid. That’s it.”

“I am not a monster, child. Nor am I here to annihilate for your needs. My spirit guides live on others, but they seek not the destruction of their source. They are as much nature as other beings.”

“You wanna listen to ‘em yucky dumb worms or the jingle of coins as you become a free man? Look at this situation properly!”, he retorted.

“Do you seek the punishment of my guides, fool? Begone from this place!”, I yelled out loud.

The twisted ambitions of humans were common knowledge to me, but I could not accept such vulgarity.

“Bah, you’re just useless as the rest. Someone outta really get rid of ya hippies and your trashy “deities”. “ He spit at the ground.

I cannot let this human go freely anymore.

“You fool! Look at your hand. Look at your legs. Look at your shoulders. My deities have made you, their home.

“And their meal.”

Twisting my fingers, I ordered the parasites resting throughout his body to erupt out. I guided and fed every worm on every inch of him, until he became silent. I bowed before the mass of worms which swirled and slithered about the ground and took my place behind the counter.

Waiting for the next customer.

I have been alive for three hundred years and out of those three hundred, two hundred and seventy years only revenge has been on my mind. I need to kill a God, I will kill a God and I will make him suffer. He took them away from me, he took my family away, I have been all alone and no one can understand that.

But there is a catch, he is hiding from me, he knows what is coming. So I need to die first in order to get to his realm. But the one that gave me this power has cursed me, I can only die a worthy death, trust me I have tried everything.

Imagine my luck when these so-called Heroes started appearing twenty years ago, I forgot what it is to have hope again and they have awakened that feeling inside of me. But they were weak, I fought them and let them beat me, but that was not a worthy death, the curse would not let me die. So for the past twenty years, I’ve created a guild, a guild of bad people with bad intentions, but I don’t care what they do and achieve, I have an ulterior motive I need them to make these heroes strong. So that’s why I’ve been helping them, financing all of their stupid ideas and plans and it has been working, heroes are becoming strong, they have to in order to defeat my guild and new heroes have been popping up left and right.

Soon I will have my worthy death and in death, revenge will be mine, Qhaxtis I am coming for you and everything that you have created.

​

If you like this story you can check some more on my sub r/LukasWrites

as a siren, it was my duty to sing and try and lure sailors to their death. i mean, that's how we sirens survive, right? what else can we eat if not human men? (or women, the fucklets that more often than not end up falling prey to us are men though)

one human male is enough to feed around 4 sirens, I've been leeching onto the kills of my family or friends. we normally start singing in groups, recently found out humans liked acapellas and choirs. anyway, that's besides the point. never in my whole siren career have i felt so humiliated.

it was just another one of those nights when you just wake up hungry for no reason, and all my friends are asleep. It'd be nice to give them a surprise breakfast with my leftovers, I pride myself on being rather charitable. so I swam out to sea in hopes of finding prey.

and here i was, perched on some random rock and sang my heart out. you know since the weather was getting a bit chilly i figured singing these poor sea-men a christmas song would be nice,

"I don't want a lot for christmas....." I sang, at the top of my lungs.

"holy shit the spirit of mariah carey is out here with us. or is it seasickness?" one guy said.

"dude what the actual fuck." another one said, "go back to sleep."

"there is just one thing i need," I continued, the dude rushed out to the deck.

"Yo who's singing," he yelled. looking out in my general direction- i think its working.

"I don't care about the presents.." I kept singing, the dude just stared blankly and then..threw himself into the sea. holy shit. it's that easy? "Underneath the christmas tre-"

"stop." I heard his voice. Didn't this bozo just drown or am I the one hallucinating the spirit of a vengeful soul? "You're so bad at singing." he continued, I looked down, and there he was- clinging onto the rock I was on.

"Oh."

"You sang it in E major... the original song is in G major," he said, "And I really appreciate you trying to get festive but I'm afraid this is the fucking southern hemisphere. We're in Australia, dipshit, it's July."

"Ohh."

I just didn't know how to respond. This is the end of my career. I pushed the sailor away and swam as far as I could. Someone put me in fish glub glub-a-blub therapy or some shit because it's been 3 fucking years and this still comes back to haunt me.

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A shut-in redditor who discovers that civilization has collapsed while they remained inside their home. They are the last person alive. But if everybody is dead, who have they been talking to online?

The fortress stood looming before her. Lightening flashed in the sky illuminating it's tall dark spires, large stone walls and iron spikes lining their tops. It was, to say the least, intimidating.

In the fortress ahead was the most fearsome man who ever lived. No one knew his real name, he was simply known as the Dark Lord. No one could remember when he appeared here, or why he came. They knew only that he was to be feared and loathed. The eater of young, defiler of women, and also known to be downright rude. To say he was unwelcome to the people of BrightWood village was an understatement.

So, the people of BrightWood had secretly gathered one evening to come up with a plan to rid their wonderful village of this dark hanging cloud. It had taken them all of 30 minutes before they had their solution. Which is what had led to this very moment.

The young woman stood at the edge of the forest that led up to the fortress of the Dark Lord. A small dirt path wound it's way up the hill to the big wooden gates. Small flames bobbed up and down along the side of the path, no wax or wick to hold them there. The young woman glanced up the path, her eyes that were a dark brown, looked almost black in the dim reflection of the flames. She heaved a sigh before taking a step forward and beginning her way up the path.

Candy thought back to how she had gotten where she was now. Never one for a great life, even her name was something of a reminder of just how unlucky she was. Someone had once told her "you give me the same feeling I get when I first eat a sour candy." Somehow, after roars of laughter, she had been dubbed 'Candy'. Her real name was Caroline. Caroline L. Ryner. Candy is what everyone used though, and so she had accepted it, like all other things.

See Candy was born unlucky. Or at least she thought so. Always handed the short end of the stick, always in the crowd but never the reason for one, just one card short of a full house. So it didn't surprise her when she was the next one chosen to take on the Dark Lord. They said the lottery pull was random, but Candy was starting to suspect otherwise. After all, the only ones chosen thus far had been like her, the outcasts.

Candy shrugged her shoulders as if dismissing the thought. She pushed her long and tangled black hair from her face and continued walking up the path, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweater. The wind was picking up, bringing with it the promise of a storm. She quickened her step, whether from fear or excitement she wasn't sure.

Finally she reached the great big wooden doors. Her body began to shake. This was it. She was about to die. Or so she assumed she was, as the others that had been sent had never returned. Her body shivering, she lifted her hand to knock against the thick doors.

Before she could even bring her fist down to knock the doors gave a great heave and sigh as they were pulled open. Candy jumped back, startled. As the doors opened and her eyes adjusted she saw the frame of a man standing before her.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES!!!" a deep voice bellowed. The man stepped forward from the doorway, the light from inside illuminating him to her. He was...a guy. Just a guy. About average height. Short dark hair, with light blue eyes and round cheeks. He was in a robe. Just an average house robe, even complete with slippers.

"You! Are you the one who keeps knocking on my door and running away every week?! It's not very funny you know! Twice now you've made me ruin a perfectly good spell." He crossed his arms over his chest, his brow furrowed as he looked at her disapprovingly.

Candy opened her mouth to speak but found she had lost her voice. She closed it, cleared her throat and tried again. "Uhh, I...this is my first time here...." she managed to spit out.

The man moved a little closer and looked her over. "Then what exactly are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well you see, it's just...uhm...." she began before a thought struck her, "Wait, what did you mean by knocking and running away? So you didn't kill them?" she blurted out, a thing she did rather often without thinking. Surly she had angered him and now she'd be next.

The mans face momentarily fell into one of shock before his brows once again furrowed forward. "Kill? What on earth..." he said with a sigh, "I haven't killed anyone. Once a week now for about two months I've had someone come and knock on my door and by the time I answer no one is there but I can see them running away through the woods!"

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Now, what is it you wanted?"

"Oh!" Candy exclaimed. "Well, actually, you see....the village people would like you to...leave..." she trailed off, her body tensing ready for the attack.

"Leave!? What on earth for!?"

Candy began to rub her hands together, folding them over one another this way and that. "Well, I mean...don't you think it could have something to do with the baby eating and, ya know, defiling women thing?" She asked nervously, her heart beating a million miles a minute.

The amount of emotions she witnessed cross the Dark Lord's face were far too many to happen in the span of just a couple of seconds. What finally came to rest on his face was a look of pure, well, bafflement. His face had turned a deep red, his eyes had seemed larger and a look of pure confusion washed over him.

"Eating babies and defiling women!? What in Gods name is wrong with you people!"

"Woah, hey now man, don't lump me in with them. I don't even want to be here but I 'won' the lottery." Seeing the look on his face worsen she continued with a sigh, "Every week the village gets together and has a lottery to decide who is going to come deal with getting rid of the Dark Lord," she paused her and looked at him, "that's you."

He nodded his head and rolled his eyes but did not interrupt.

"We are to get rid of you by any means necessary. They say that everyone's name is in there but I don't believe it. They just send the ones they don't want in the village anymore." she said with a shrug.

The man stood quiet for a long moment before heaving a sigh, as he did so his body seemed to relax a bit.

"Gods, this always happens." he said while rubbing his eyes between his fingers and thumb. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Look I don't eat babies and I don't defile women. I don't even like women!" He said while throwing his hands up in the air. "This is ridiculous. Anywhere I've moved this happens. People are just..."

"Awful, horrible, disgusting...." Candy added with a grin on her face. She rather liked this guy.

He laughed at this and nodded. "Yes, indeed." He paused for a moment and looking at Candy. "So, how awful are the village people anyways?"

"Oh, the worst of the worst."

"Hmm..." he stood to the side, sweeping his arm inward. "Would you like to come in for some tea? I have a wonderful book 'Village Curses: How and when to use them' that I think you would find very interesting." he smiled at her, revealing a long line of jagged pearly whites.

Candy beamed back at him, practically skipping over herself to get inside. "I think you are correct in that assumption!" Candy followed the man inside, instantly warmed and with a new feeling of excitement. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

"See this shit right here is why we have to keep you in stasis whenever we visit home. I'd half expect you too see a baby and think it's a snack" The captain said trying to lecture me.
"Is it?" I asked genuinely.

"No! For fucks sake man why are you like this?" The captain was growing fustrated... Bad sign.

"Excessive gene modding, psionic programming and 17 years in near constant warfare." I said bluntly. Hoping the honesty would help calm him down.

"I know that! I was more... Nevermind" The captain had a defeated look on his face. I kinda felt bad for him. "Look, we've got to go planetside on home in a couple days due to some regulation bullshit, and you THANKFULLY don't count as human so you're not gonna be tried for your worryingly large list of warcrimes. You ARE however going to required to wear these."

He sat a collar with some kinda battery attached down on the desk along with what looked like an earring and a muzzle.

"A shock collar? Who's holding the remote?"

"Me."

My tail sank between my legs as lowered my head forward "Go ahead..."

"Good boy." I felt my tail wag lightly. Not sure why that instinct was coded into me but it's there and it feels so good!.
"Now while we're there you don't say anything unless you're spoken too directly, if anyone approaches for any reason, look at me before you decide to do ANYTHING on your own. Ok?"

"Why? It's just some guards in the worst case scenario"

"Because those guards could level a city block if they wanted to"

"What's a city block?"

"A bunch of buildings about as wide as a freight ship and about as tall as 5 of them stacked on top of each other"

I audibly gulped, reaching for the ear-piece and clipping it into place. Instantly I could feel a Psi-connection forming "This will help with comms. Anything remotely violent goes through here first, and only if I say yes do you do it. Understood?"

I nodded my head. This was gonna be a long week...

Psionic telemetry reading of crew member 626, Callsign: "Warbeast" regarding boarding incident 621.

Beginning playback:

It was a standard day on The SS Kobold. We're a small Merc company that's technically part of the UER (United Earthen Republic) army, though no one would blame you for thinking otherwise.

My role of "Warbeast" Is to be a big hulking lug with sharp claws, wicked fang and to look like I'd snap you in half if you looked at me the wrong way. Captain wants me to be proactive about it but I think trying to hard to seem intimidating makes you look insecure. I mean I already match the description of a werewolf from those pre-space myths he liked to bang on about.

I was going about my usual day not listening to the captain unless he got the taser out and making it nice and quick for any who got in the way of our tasks. Today it was a simple scavenger mission. Lots of psi-ko tech in the area from a recent space battle that Carl and Onyx would be all over.

It was also a trap, while I was lagging behind I heard two of my allies scream quickly before it was cut off. Naturally I came looking and saw those two allies, Rock and Fox, with the barrels of flashslights (sys note: mark II Lasguns) sitting on their temples. Unconscious.

One of them said "You, Dog thing! drop your scavenge and fuck off or this gets ugly!"

Now the captain had always said comply with these kinda things. So I did, dropped what I had collected, kicked it over to them, waited for them to do the same...

They did not do the same.

​

One the scavenge had reached them they said "We're taking your friends here hostage. You want them back you've got 2 days to cough up 10000 units of Iridium. Understand doggy?"

I knew everything I was seeing and hearing was also being streamed to the ship so I waited for the signal from command...

A drone was pinged for me, we were reading their ships FTL wake signature. I needed to buy time for the scanning of it.

"Oh ok buddy understood, how about we put the guns down and talk about this like reasonable people..." I tried to sound scared, Hoping that I could juxtapose my intimidating visage with a sort of cute and friendly persona and lull them into a false sense of security.

"Don't try and bullshit, we know what you're really like, 'Warbeast'" The one holding rock croaked

That... made things difficult. I only needed a few more seconds though... "Alright..." I said with my paws in the air "Ya got me." I looked up and smiled a little bit on making that little reference.

"So, where exactly are we supposed to drop of these units? I assume you have a location?"

"Yeah, there's a big ole cluster of asteroids around 1 light-hour south of the Mind'n'body. It's a bar popular with psionic species, familiar?"

"Yeah I know the place, probably gonna have to stop by there after this for the incident report"

"Good. Go there and our contact will meet you. See you in 48 terran hours." The abductors said grinning as they started getting beamed up.

"More like 5 seconds." I replied as my body was cloaked in the same orange-reddish hue of a teleporter.

I closed my eyes to prevent warp-blindness for a second before allowing my instincts to take over from there. I was standing beside the two who had just taken my allies hostage, they twirled on the spot and blew 30 bursts of lightfire into my chest...

I looked at them laughing as I grabbed one in each hand, the staff in the teleporter room too horrified to do anything.

"Standard issue sub-dermal plasma absorption weave... thanks for the juice boys." I cackle as I begin my assault. First, I run a Psi-Op, Data extraction, to learn the layout of the ship. Standard UER vessel with minor refurbishments.

Second... I squeeze both my captives tight, dangling them on the edge of passing out, the doors open as the security team tries to attack with kinetics. I hurl the one who called me dog thing at them making them kill their own ally.

I feel a hunger and I sate it, using the pause created from the security team's emotional distress to devour the second abductor. It's rare I get the chance to do this so I savour the moment, sinking my fangs only as deep as I need to inflict the pain, my jaw unhinging slightly to allow his shoulders and such to pass. Deeper and deeper he falls. Muffled screams and horrified gasps fill the room my gut pushes it's way out to accommodate the meal it's receiving. (SyS note: armour of faction unidentified, reason stated: "Acid burns rendered markings illegible")

Everyone stands still for a second as I gulp the last of the bastard down. The room is slient and still save for my midriff stretching out and the screams of the one causing that stretching with his struggles. The fool should just go limp, that way the acid would hurt less.

"So..." I begin to ask in an open question "I'm usually not a very... active person... but you've all done a few things that earn my ire..." I pause, it's so rare I get to have these moments I've got to savour them

"You jumped my crew, broke the sanctity of a hold up... and now you're all to cowardly to even attack me while I made a meal of your ally... You're all weak, cowardly creatures... Throw down your weapons and I'll make this quick... Or" I pat my distended gut in satisfaction, looks like he finally suffocated or burned in the acid. Laughing menacingly before burping up some stale air.

"Or you can save me a hell of a lot on rations this month" I grin with bloodstained teeth as one man charges forward. My claws meet his chest and punture him like spears through paper. I simply flex my fingers and the gap in his chest expands, eventually separating him into 3 or for chunks of meat.

The rest threw their weapons in the air and ran for their lives. It was time for the hunt to begin.

​

Telemetry playback end.

​

"So do you mind explaining to me why you felt in necessary to EAT 3 other people? I know the first one was an intimidation tactic but after that it just felt unnecessary" The captain said leering at me through his glasses.

"It was an intimidation tactic! Can't have them getting any ideas they might live now" I pleaded my case, casually picking my teeth with my claws.

"You are aware that that's a warcrime right? Cruel and unusual punishments?" He responded in an exasperated sigh.

"We're not at war right now" I semi jokingly pointed out.

"Not the point Warbeast." He replied, unamused.

"I know." I chuckled with a shit eating grin.

(Cont in comments)

​

The face looked through the screen and I wondered what sort of digital trickery put a 40 year old's face on a teenager's body, complete with clothing straight out of hot topic.

"Hello," the raspy voice said, "I'm 18 years old. I started smoking at 12 because I thought it was edgy then I was a social smoker who totally wasn't addicted and only smoked at parties. And at other times." The girl on the screen started walking towards the camera while talking, the smooth steadicam pullback helping the room flow around her. "And then I started smoking when I was stressed out. Which hardly ever happens in high school."

She begins to climb some stairs as she talks.

"Smoking has given me permanently sour breath and it helped age the skin on my face and hands by decades." She smiles and her face breaks into a number of lines.

"Over the years, I've spent so much money on packs of cigarettes that, if you added them all up, I could have bought a car, with cash."

She climbs a few more steps, moving much slower than most teenagers.

"My car, room, and clothes permanently smell like smoke. You can actually smell me coming around the corner. Nonsmokers can't stand to be in the same room with me else their nostrils start burning."

The stairs keep going and she is noticeably flagging.

"And my lung," she stops and starts gasping, "capacity means I can't play sports anymore. I can't have sex on top. I feel like I'm going to faint if I laugh too much."

She stops climbing the stairs and instead just sits down, breathing heavy like she's climbing a mountain. "But still, the brief, ephemeral nicotine buzz has made it all worthwhile," she smiles wide and displays yellow teeth.

Thank you for your praise! That was certainly the intention of repeating that little section, and I'm glad to know it worked.

It could definitely flow better, I agree. I've pretty much never written poetry before, I think I could count all my attempts on one hand. But once I had the idea for the story, writing out in prose just somehow felt wrong, like it could only exist in this form to evoke the right ideas. Plus at some point you can't really revise the flow anymore because you've read it too many times haha.

"For now he was content to know that he and Firekeeper would continue to run side by side." ~ Wolf's Soul, Jane Lindskold.

I have so many feelings, and not enough words to put them in. I adore the way that you were able to use the same sentences to depict very different emotions, "in caves deep and mountains not". The knight's delivery at the beginning felt like they were reading a litany of their sins, whereas I could almost hear the princess gliding along that same itenerary with dreamy-eyed wonder.

If I were to try to find something to critique, I would say that it felt like the rhythm was clunky in a few cases. I certainly don't think it detracted overall from the response, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

Thank you for your words.

So southern us in general I gotcha

“A category one hurricane” the news said.

“No worries, just a small hurricane, right?” I

uttered. Angie, my roommate, paid no attention to

the news. I walked to the kitchen, then opened

the pantry. I wasn't suprised to see a half empty

pantry. Angie loved food. “Hey, let's go get some

take-out” I suggested to her. “Maybe some...

Waffle house?” she replyed. “I mean, that place is

always open! Remember that hurricane last

month? Those doors were wide open!” She joked.

It was true. Waffle house was always open.

“Alright then” I said. I could see Angie's eyes

wide open. We drove to the nearest Waffle House.

Then, laid in my eyes, the most horrific thing

I saw. The closed sign on Waffle House.

Angie panicked. I panicked in my head too. How

was it possible for Waffle House closing on a

category 1..? Angie pointed at an employee

working there. “Hey you! Why is it closed?”

The employee, looking about 20, replied in a

rather chill manner. “You didn't hear? There's a

category 1 hurricane” “But you keep your doors

open all the time!” Complained my roommate

She's hard to shake off. Really hard. “Isn't it

crazy? Well, I'll go now.” said the employee.

We drove back to our apartment. “Well something

bad's gonna happen for sure.” Angie muttered. I

rolled my eyes. “It's 8:30 now, might as well

sleep!” I complained. That girl can be cuckoo.

“Ugh, goodnight.” She said. We laid off to bed. I

woke up in the middle of the night to the

hurricane. It didn't feel like a category 1. It wasn't

a category 1, I just knew it. “Angie! Wake up! Get

in the basement now!” I said in a panicked way.

I was more of a mature person, but not this time.

Just not now. Angie didn't budge. I had no

choice than to carry her to the basement. She

woke up in the rather dirty mattress. She jolted

up. “Why are we in here?” She said. “Doesn't

matter, we're clearly in a bad situation!”

I told her. I peeked through the small window. A

category 5 it looked. “But waffle house would still

be open..” I muttered. But I saw what seems to

be.. An entity. Completely black. Wrecking havoc

in this neighborhood. I almost had a panic attack

when Angie said in a solemn voice. I wasn't sure

if that was even Angie. She said in a deep,

solemn voice.... “We're in Ohio..” I was frozen.

Everything went black.

Incredible! Pat yourself on the back for this one! :)

I think a story about a hacker following someone across every device would be interesting.

That a theorized dystopia from the past is currently happening

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That's a very interesting take! Coming up with that state of limbo between life and death was very clever. I like that change.

Either way it's a great read thanks for sharing!

These last 2 comments are an alternate ending correct? Or am I missing something?

Thank you!

My own part of the bargain complete with the final blood of the sacrifice, I hear the old branch drop from the tree behind me. A new druid walking stick cost only the lives of every beaver colony within beaver territory of the tree. A price I paid gladly for this discarded branch from such an otherwise strong and powerful tree. Freely given in honor of a noble deed, this branch now held all the spiritual power it held in life, but it was mine to wield, for the price of being the arm of vengeance to the local trees. The beavers would return, eventually, and all would balance out. But it would take a generation or two before they filled the niche in this tree's range regarding beavers. Thus it had nothing to fear of beavers anymore and my deed was worthy of the sacrifice. The weak branch just gave way, and humans appreciate fallen branches. This would be the best fallen branch. I expressed my amazement and promised to return on my future travels. I do not tell them I spotted signs of rabid in the poor creatures and it was a mercy killing. I would have to remember to keep a closer eye on that. It could become an epidemic in the area if it has spread behind the beaver population at mating season. I'd also need to continue to watch the beaver population as well as some other animals prone to get the disease in this area.

Dragging my branch, apologizing for anything breaking off, and taking them with me as impossible to part with, if I'm able, but forcing nothing to break, I continue my now very excited journey through the wilderness.

I intended to be well out of range of the tree's territory before gifting most of the branch to the next beaver colony over, in showing I am no threat to them specifically, and to allow myself a closer evaluation of their temperament. I marvel at the beavers beginnings of this year's dam, and explain my own carving project, in doing so I explain to the beavers my own problem with separating the two arms of the branches and which parts I'm wanting, I was born with the unfortunately small teeth of a human. I then offer to split this wonderful powerful gift with them if they can help me solve this seemingly impossible task. I even end up helping them plan their build using the branches of my gift as key supports and the twigs as the perfect filler because I'm already breaking it apart into just the right size, I just couldn't break or gnaw through that one area because it was too thick for my small human teeth. I'm ever so grateful when they are easily able to solve my problem. The staff is the only part I needed of it, so they can have all the other parts. Once I explain the energy even in those parts I don't need, and how it's fate that we crossed paths and I happened to choose camp right in their territory because it would be perfect addition to their build. Even make the supports stronger with the residual magic.

They are thrilled at so generous a gift, knowing they feel silly for how easy it was for them to help. I stay and finish making camp, using old gathered branches for firewood, a little farther from camp than I like to scout for branches this large, but it's the ones the beavers haven't bothered with yet, and are actually easier for the human strength to drag fully closer to the planned dam. Of course they're glad to help me making the types of sticks I like. Humans do like special shaped sticks. They are fascinated by the idea of my druid powers to keep away predators with special sticks. The idea of me spending a night near their planned lodge and dam this early in the season is sounding like a great idea. Their shelter will be strong, but they've just barely begun building it. Perhaps if this "fire magic" I have is so powerful, they better watch me do it. Who knows, if it keeps the predators away maybe they could learn to do it too. Beavers are great with sticks after all. They are not sure it's manageable by the end of my explanation and once my fire is stoked. It is magic to them. Even if a beaver had the magic, try as they might beavers simply do not have the dexterity to start a fire with sticks. But for a night, the beavers worry about if they'll finish before the cold comes, or if there will be still or this year like there was last year. Convinced of my "controlled fire" being druid magic. If a druid said his fire would keep away predators, and he did what was clearly magic, you'd stick near him for a night too. You'd do all you can to help him chew his magic stick to the right shape and even dispose of the druid's unneeded bits by using them in the dam. Given freely and retaining the same power. These branches would now serve wonderfully for their dams, being guaranteed more structurally sound than any exact copy of the branch they would happen upon. It was an utterly reliable branch for them, and the cast off parts for my staff for me.

They thanked me before retiring for the night with promises of any stillborn of their litter that was birthed in the lodge they built. A cast off for them, an incredibly useful trade item for me. The perfect balance to the trade. It also was an offering by the group to check back again at birthing season, a sign of trust. Should the branches hold, I will return to find friends, gifts to fulfill promises, and perhaps more trades or requests that can become beneficial. With luck the explanations of rabies will keep them vigilant and the extermination I had to preform will be the last in the area. My visit also served to show humans can use special sticks for many things, and that special sticks make humans happy. Some humans can do magic with sticks. If other humans come and take sticks from beaver territory or even lodge as I have heard my kind has done, it might be just the right stick for magic. Beavers should be careful, and forgive humans for taking sticks, because most are not as wise as I.

In the morning I left, using the shortened and trimmed branch as a walking staff now. I knew the perfect frog pond I could reach by lunch. I intended to soak the bark loose there. This druid staff would take a lot of effort, but I had the general plan. I would need to find some bark beetles willing to eat their fill of soft bark and wood, but only in specific patterns I already laid out using an ink they find distasteful already to outline their path. Nothing they wouldn't do anyway, but this branch was enchanted. They would get more than just their fill. They would get the energy they needed to make it through the season, ensuring the next generation, and an unnaturally long life for them, with little hunger. It would be an excellent trade up for them. Only problem was getting the idea across. Beetles could be very casual about life until birds came along. I would need to begin some carvings and stuff the splinters into the beetle bores. Give them a taste. Lucky for me I kept many of the splinters from the beaver chewing. No piece of this gift should go to waste.

I swiped a handful of the poisonous berries spotted along the same stream as the beavers. I'd been following this streambed for a while and it was leading me in the right direction of the pond. I promised the berry bush to spread it's seeds far and feed additional ones to birds to speed farther. It was the fruit that I needed for inking my rune outlines upon the staff bark, and keeping the beetles from eating outside my desired design. There are a few other ingredients to gather along the way, so I stored the whole fruit away, making sure to mark it as poison. The frog pond would be the perfect place to mix that ink, with the cattail being a perfect binding ingredient. there always were a few birds there drinking, another safe place within this magical forest. Ones that would be very happy to take the seed cast-off now that I've rendered it safe and taken the poison part off it.

Shame it's too early in the season for fireflies. The frogs will love them around the pond next season. While it would have been neat to have the runes in the staff glow with firefly light, it may have to wait for the next staff. I lament this to the bird as I cast off the seeds. They have no solutions for me, but suggest I investigate the glow-moss they have seen on their migrations. I assure them that sounds like exactly my interest, asking their directions, and the birds are happy to describe to me their flight. My pitiful human wings built more for warmth than for flight, I pull my cloak tighter around me. A chill in the air, the weather will be changing soon and I still have too much forest to patrol. Never enough of a druid to go around.