Aww, this isn’t bad at all! This is lovely, especially the way it shows that these two immortals really fell HARD.

He just listened to an other lonely man for a full week, letting him bare his soul, and when he left this Brad spent fifty years searching, while our narrator spent that same time wistfully thinking of that one guy he met half a century ago? That’s incredibly sweet and romantic!

EDIT: Fixed a gender misidentify. Never read short stories while half asleep folks, you’ll miss the obvious!

Interesting. I like it

“What do you mean, it burned?”

My first time doing this, please give me any and all feedback! I didn't revise any of this either so sorry in advance.

"Hey, Captain, rise and shine." I open my eyes and look at the private staring back at me. "New mission?" "No other reason to call us." I stand up and dust myself off, before grabbing my gear. "What's the deal this time?" "Terrorist group in the L-4 quadrant." Shit, L-4 was Sore Loser territory. Fucking Sore Losers, always lost whatever fight they started but they made sure to decimate the other side first, hence the name.

I piloted the ship towards the quadrant and ran a deep space scan. Deep Well cloaking tech surrounding us for at least half an EO (earth orbit). Sore Losers shouldn't have something like that, fuck, there's so many.

Boom

The ship got blasted soon as the scan finished, we got hit hard. I saw a ship speed towards us and then I blacked out.

Came to in a plas cell on a scrap ship. It's definitely Sore Losers. These fuckers take pieces and scavenge what tech they can use from the dead. This holding cell ain't the worst part, if they got us that means that my crew is either dead or P.O.Ws of these sick bastards. They use P.O.Ws to "test" tech, from new blasters they picked up to some experimental drugs that aren't logged in GGLs (galactic goods logs). I try and access any of my parts. All disabled, looks the cell came with EMP capabilities.

I sit back, and shout. "Any Sub-marines in the sky?" "sir no sir.." Sounds like..."is that you Lieutenant?" "Aye captain, but I'm not doing good." "Shit, I've gotta get us outta here." "I don't know about that sir, I saw some privates get dragged off earlier, than screaming, I doubt any of us are getting out of here." No rescue coming for us, and no way we can get out of this MacGyver ship. We ain't getting rescued because we're Sub-marines, a recon team made of Earth-siders. Back on earth submarines are little ships under the water, something no one cares about anymore, that's where we got our name. We're all from Earth, but a couple of us are a bit different, halflings from freaky Humans, or modified from previous missions. No choice but to wait for them to take us.

My turn comes not too long after, about 12 Earth hours. They take me to an experimentation room, past some of my soldiers. All of them are alive, but not all of them are there. When they put me on the table to start cutting me, I catch one off guard and kick him. Fuck these little pests. I jump up and start fighting, one of them grabs a blaster and takes aim. Too slow, I grab the front and put it down his throat and force him to pull the trigger. "Standard issue blaster, one of ours huh?" all these fuckers are dead. I start a sweep, and take my time. There's almost no one on this ship. The few Losers I find, I beat half to death. Forget the blaster, it's designed for fast eliminating, and these fuckers need some hard lessons. I leave them all just barely alive, and lock them in the airlock. I find my squad and help the least injured first, though it's still bad. Missing whole limbs and full of some new drugs. Half of them are in shock and the other half are begging for death. I'll have to use the amnestics on our ship if they're still there. If our ship is still there.

I hear banging from the airlock. Fuck them. I help my crew back to our ship, thank God they didn't take it apart yet. I hit them with amnestics and they go down. I use the scan, all the ships from before are gone... wait not gone, on a planet an EO away. I look the planet up on the GMD (Galactic Military databases) and nothing comes up. Unmarked planet with no prior inhabitants. Good. I look up to check munitions on the ship and find just some large solar flare type long distance missiles. Just what those dickheads deserve, Death by fire.

Steady, aim, fire. The planet is about an EMO (earth moon orbit) away. Flash, and a light ignites on the planet. It spreads, slowly getting brighter. Even if they somehow survived, SF missiles also emit large amounts of EMP radiation. Most of their ships are probably down, and probably a good amount of their people too, from the sheer number of mods these rats have. I set the ship to autopilot and guide it back to base, the men are gonna need some prosthetics and probably retirement. They can't keep going like this. They aren't my first crew but I'm gonna make sure they're my last. And I'll make sure these terrorists don't hurt anymore innocents. No more lazing around.

You'd never expect alphabet soup to bind you to a eldrich entity to become its agent but then again you'd never expect your aunt to be the previous agent of said eldrich entity. Standing in a place of nothingness in front of a being that was a quintessential piece of reality and could not be understood by any living thing you knew or else it would drive them to insanity.

"You want me to commit tax evasion?"

Not sure if there was a term for cosmic dissappointment or if you should make one up but you felt it roll off of C'thuzheth the Unknowable Fraction of Reality.

Yes. You felt the words slithe into your mind like thousands of spiders crawling along the riddges of your brain. Tax Evasion.

"No cult sacrifices or hunting down the unholy in your name?" The emptiness rippled every time you spoke. You tried not to look down as you spoke, the fake reality that the entitiy had created for you started to fracture there and it made your brain hurt.

No.

"A cosmic entity of few words I see." The focus - you've never felt an experience quite like it - bore down on you.

It is in direct competiton with another one of the Troxhex.

The length of the sentance surprised you. "But tax evasion?"

MY MEANS ARE BEYOND YOU MORTAL. YOU WILL RECIEVE FUTURE INSTRUCTION.

With that a distinct snap could be felt along with a feeling of inversion, as if you'd been sucked in through your belly button and turned inside out.

Dots of color came into view and gre then came into focus and you find yourself staring into your bowl of soup.

Your aunt looks back at you with a knowning smirk. She set a pile of papers down infront of you. You realized they were your tax forms.

"Your mom gave these to me." She tossed you a pen which you barely managed to catch. "He," She pointed down, "doens't like electronic paperwork either so I'll help you with the first few and see if you can get it from there."

With that, you got to work.

When I learned about the parallel me or well… Mara, when I learned about how they lived their life I was almost surprised and a bit saddened by their death. The lived almost the exact same style and yet I never saw them ever…it makes sense since I would always mind my own business and it seems that they did as well. What I don’t get is…how could they die this young whilst I’m still alive and well. I kept asking myself that question hour after hour…

Mara, a high-school dropout who was 22 around the age she died, when she was around my age she kept quiet, read books, avoided others and somehow ended up as a hoodlum once she dropped out, hanging out around alleyways and robbing gullible people who thought to take a shortcut. I guess life really changes people. When I saw the old photos of her she really was close to me, even having that same emotionless face but when I saw her recent photos… it was as if something awoken in her, her new piercings and scars sticking out the most. Looking at them now…I wondered if I would go down the same path.

In the middle of the night, I hopped the cemetery fence, we had a bit of a problem with teens a while back so they put up a small security fence. I found the tombstone and sat down in front of it. “Hey Mara…you probably don’t know me but uhm… You can call me Void. I’m 15 and a freshmen at your old school, you and I were pretty similar. When I asked your friends about who you were, they said you were pretty metal. You collected knives and listened to some dark songs, but back then you loved to spend your days drawing. You still probably did before you died but…point is I’m sad that I didn’t get to meet you at all.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, I played my favorite song, MASK. “Here, I hope you like this one.” I spent the entire night in the cemetery, I just couldn’t leave her side. Even if I didn’t know her, she was dope as hell.

omg you have la creatura too!!! so cool 😁😁😁

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You just saw a car accident that killed a kid and her parents leaving behind 86 years old grandma.

Good job.

What the frick lol.

Edit: Givin me a vibe like Rosario Vampire type story

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When you planned on coming out to your parents, you were expecting a long, drawn-out conversation, like on TV. What you got was a "neat."

Uhuh. I get that contracts have fine print and all, but I’m pretty sure this line here actually says something about ‘eternal servitude’ instead of just underlining that clause

My friend canceled on DnD night because migraine. She’s a Druid, so we joked that it’s been too cold for gardening. That lead me to this.

1. No

2. If he takes a bath yes

3. Yes (it was a magic curse)

4. IDK LOL

Can also confirm. Desperately hoping for another season for the anime

Why correct me if I didn’t even give you any indication that I needed it? Quite strange imo.

Oh I wouldn't worry about that, it's just your standard NDA and general insurance policies.

“Of course there is.”

“Hmmm...” flips page “...what’s this ‘afterlife’ clause?’

I like to believe that nobody wants to be gagged, kidnapped, and sent to a facility in God knows where and be held captive in a cell while being ordered to take anti migraine medicine every 8 hours, and while I don't judge personal kinks, I find that to be very uncomfortable to say the least, mainly because that's exactly what happened to me in the past 48 hours. At least my migraine stopped, that fucker has been a thorn in my side for months, long live the magic pill!

After around 18 hours since my containment, I was guided to an interrogation room, in which a jackass was waiting inside for me, and while he told me his name, I literally can't be bothered to even remember, so for now we will call this fella Bob. Bob has what is called "The insufferable bastard syndrome", you will see in a second.

I was ordered to sit, and Bob put on the table a folder, with my medical record and information inside. "Ana Williams, 25 years old, your parents died in an accident while you were 5, you lived in an orphanage until you reached legal age, and began working as pizza delivery to pay rent. At age 22, you began to experience horrible migraines that would last weeks at a time. over the years, the migraine would only worsen, with your last visit to the hospital reporting 8 months of constant migraine." Bob looked at me in the eyes. "Do you know what's wrong with this?"

"Yeah, that you guys are some creepy motherfuckers, have your mom ever told you that is bad manners to kidnap a lady?"

Bob slammed the table. "NO YOU IDIOT, YOUR MIGRAINE!" he shouted, making my ears ring. "Migraines are not supposed to last more than 72 hours, yours lasted 8 fucking months!"

See? I told you he was a bastard. "Ok, you'll have to explain to me why a migraine warrants a kidnapping, because you are not making any sense."

Bob sighed, as if he can't be bothered to explain the situation. "Ana, do you believe in magic?"

What? "...no? do you mean like, real magic, or like the song? do you believe in ma-"

"Stop singing" *he ordered, which I did, not because I was ordered to but because I didn't remember the rest of the song anyways. "Magic is something we humans have been cursed with, a powerful tool in the right hands, and a collective suicide most of the time. That's why we mages have gone underground ages ago, and eradicated all proof of our existance to the public, and that includes magic too. To do magic, we use mana, a type of energy that flows naturally inside our body. However, there are times when a magically gifted person has way more mana than what their body can handle, in that case, the body will try to release the excess mana with migraines. Do you see where I am going with this right?"

"...That I am magically gifted?"

"Well, yes, but more important than that, is your migraine. Normally, the migraine will dissipate the excess mana without problems, but sometimes, the excess of mana is too great that the migraine is not enough to liberate it, in those cases the body will not resist the amount of mana and will simply die. However, in your case this is different, by all accounts you should have died 3 years ago during your first migraine, but not only you survived, your body adapted itself to contain more mana!"

"I don't see where this is going"

"What I am trying to say, is that you are basically a time bomb. If not treated properly, your migraine will get so bad that your body will release an uncontrollable blast of magic powerful enough to wipe an entire city!"

"Oh. Ooooooh. Yeah that kinda makes sense, I too would have kidnapped myself in those circunstances. You are still a dick though."

"I didn't ask your opinion, idiot." he scoffed "Because of your high magical aptitute, we believe that with proper training and treatment, you will become a very valuable asset for our agency. Thus, we present you an offer: you will join the agency as a trainee, you will receive an apartment to live in with all expenses covered, a salary, and be given treatment for your migraines. In turn, you will not speak of the existance of the agency to anybody, you will not use magic unless authorized or in self defense, and you will be monitorized to avoid having your condition go out of control."

"And if I refuse?"

"You will be terminated, your existance expurged from all databases across the globe, and all people that ever knew you will have their memories of you remo-"

"OK OK, I get it, when do I begin?"

"On monday, my associate in the meantime will led you to your new home. Welcome to the team, Ana Williams."

"Like I had any say in the matter, what's the name of your agency anyways?"

"The Bureau for the Containment of Magic."

On the line at the bottom of course! But beware, there's more to it than you think 👀

Noice!

Where do I sign?