Good job.

Nice.

"Hello, Tommy. Remember me?"

"Evelynn..? No, I must be dreaming..."

"No, no, you're awake. You're awake and I have so many things to say to you."

"What? Evelynn, is... is this because I never finished your story? I meant to, I have the entire plot planned out, I just need to wor-"

"You left us to suffer!" Evelynn screams, unsheathing a glinted sword and holding it at her side, knuckles white. "Do you know the pain you put everyone through?! When did you plan to fix your wrongdoings?!"

"Please," I back up, and for every step back I take she takes a step forward, "It's only been a year. I still have plans for you. You know it works out in the end, right? Well, mostly."

"It doesn't matter what you have planned, Tommy," Evelynn's voice shakes as my back finally hits the wall, "You never wrote it down. Do you know the agony of waiting in suspended motion for an entire year? Waiting for something to happen, for something to move?!"

"I'll write. I'll write right now. You just have to understand the stress I've been going through." I force a small smile, "Evelynn. You know-"

"I know you abandoned us!" She suddenly lifts her blade, stopping when the tip touches my neck, "Maybe if you had written your plans down, I would've considered mercy - but without knowing anything for so long, I don't believe you deserve it."

"Just let me tell you what happens." I carefully press as far back against the wall as possible, although that doesn't move the blade away. "Then, after, you can decide to... to do whatever to me. Okay?"

"See, there's one problem with that." Evelynn steps closer until she's inches away from me and her blade is on the side of my neck, "You talk out loud a lot when you're writing. I may not know everything that happens, but... I know you were going to kill me. But, if you die first, then how could you possibly do so?"

"Evelynn, there's a good cause for your death. Take into consideration the rest of the world I've built, without you it would've-"

"It wouldn't of mattered. Whether I died or not, it would've ended up the same. You may be a good writer, Tommy, but you are in no way a good liar."

"Maybe not," I gulp, closing my eyes. After a couple of seconds, I open them again, and Evelynn immediately steps back. "But there's one thing you didn't consider, Ev."

Evelynn steps back, eyes wide as she brings up her sword shakily in a fighting stance. "You can't be..." Her stare is fixated behind me, but I try to pay no mind.

I instead grin, straightening my tie as I step towards her.

"I write from experience."

★★★

I know I probably should've made myself more realistic but I just jumped at the chance to make myself the villain lol. Hope you enjoyed, this is my first time responding to a prompt!!

And I swear I AM going to work on the story Evelynn is in, soon!

Kevin and his class watched with anticipation as their sixth grade teacher struggled to unearth something in front of them. Giggles and shouts of encouragement rang out as he hunched over using garden tools in the soil. Slowly, he carved a space around a curved piece of metal sticking out of the lawn next to their school.

"Hurry up!" joked a young red haired boy next to Kevin, "we're gonna be the same age as the capsule by the time you're done."

"Ha-ha," Mr. Allen said, "very funny, perhaps you'd like to be the one getting their hands dirty?"

The smile flickered on the ginger kid's face and he fell silent, looking away sheepishly.

"Almost got it. Kevin would you hold the trowel?"

"Which one?" piped up Kevin, inching closer.

"Mini shovel," grinned Mr. Allen, "almost got it now."

Kevin nodded and took the trowel from Mr. Allen. A moment later his teacher was wrenching the time capsule from the soil, dirt clods fell softly to the grass as he held it up for everyone to see.

"Muahahaha!" Mr. Allen shouted, "I have done it! Who wants to go back in time?!"

His students all jumped around raising their hands, hoping to be among the first kids to see objects, tokens, and letters left from previous students a century before.

"First peek goes to the young man with the trowel," nodded Mr. Allen, "go ahead, pop it."

Kevin nodded, trading the trowel for the cylinder. The time capsule weighed more than twice as much as the little shovel. As he clenched the lid and tried to twist it free his teacher suddenly collapsed. Everyone looked up from Kevin, momentarily distracted to see a tall man standing over their fallen teacher. A rock fell from his hand, a tiny patch of blood on the edge where it had struck their teacher.

Everyone scattered, some screamed. The only person who remained frozen was Kevin. He couldn't move. His muscles were locked. He couldn't speak. The man stood facing him, his back to the midday sun. Mr. Allen moaned on the lawn. The capsule was heavy. The smell of recently watered grass was pleasant.

The man's face was half hidden by a baseball cap as he held out his hand expectantly. Kevin obeyed without hesitation or word. The man closed his hand over the capsule, the edge of a scar crept up his thumb and over the back of his hand. Kevin turned his head down to stare at his opposite hand. Same scar. Did it learning how to shuck oysters the previous year.

"Hope you're getting better with knives, kid," grinned the man as he popped open the capsule, "this stuff is mine, but I'll let ya keep this one little thing."

A folded piece of paper landed at Kevin's feet as the man turned and walked away.

"Don't worry about Mr. Allen," he called back, "dumb ass deserves worse than that."

Kevin scooped up the paper and unfolded it carefully.

"What's this a map of?!" Kevin shouted.

"That's your journey," he shrugged, never looking back, "you'll figure it out before college."

I hid the child under my robes, sheltering him from the rain. This act of compassion, uncharacteristic of the “brutal oppressor” most have come to see me as, was not lost on my guard detail, and I caught them sharing glances with each other. I did not care. Maybe I would have before, but even holding this babe spurred some emotion in me. If those child really was destined to end me, I wouldn’t try to change his fate by exposing him to cruel violence at such a young age.

As he grew, this emotion grew with him. He was, of course, trained in all things noble. Swordplay, literature, diplomacy, I spared nothing in his education. When he first bested our weapons master, I was proud, though I did not show it.

When he first read the works of our greatest poets aloud to my court, i was proud, and applauded him, though only briefly. I could see his smile, even though he tried to hide it.

When he returned from his first diplomatic mission, the first one to end in peace for our nation in a generation, I broke and embraced him in private. After a second, his shock seemed to fade, and he too rapped his arms around me.

I was frail at that point, and even though I still stood nearly a head above my people, I was not the imposing figure I once was. I had gradually lost my strength, the fire in my eyes faded, and my compassion grew. Those who would have been executed decades ago, I allowed a chance at repentance. I replaced the more violent members of my court with more pragmatic ones, knowing these people would guide my son after I was gone. My reputation amongst the people changed, the older ones, of course, still remembered me for the monster I was, the monster who had taken their mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters away from them. But the younger ones saw me as a fair ruler, and I was greeted more and more on the rare occasion I left the safety of my castle.

“Father, a new merchant has arrived in town, with wares from far off nations I have not seen since my first voyage for peace. Would you like to accompany me?” And I did. He was a young man now, 23 winters had passed since that stormy night, and I was near my end. One last trip wouldn’t hurt, and I was seldom exposed to wonders from outside my domain. We ventured down, through muddy paths, and entered the capital city. This place was larger than I remembered, no doubt from the success of my sons various diplomatic missions.

We walked the main road, when a man, slightly older than my boy walked up to us. “I cannot believe this, I never thought I would see you two in person! You may not remember, but we’ve crossed paths before.” He said to me. He was right, I did not remember, but there was something in his face that sparked recollection. “Ah, I’m sorry, you do seem familiar but I can’t quite place it.” “Oh that’s fine, I doubt you’d remember every life you ruined.” That stung. This was not the positive encounter I’d hoped it to be, and I hated to be reminded of my “glory days”. “Whatever transgression I’ve done to you, I genuinely apologize for. Come to the castle later today, we can perhaps work out some deal to reimburse you and your family. But, alas, we must get going, my son has business in town.” I hurried my boy along, this was not a side of me I wanted him to see often. But as I turned my back, my sons face lit up with fear, I felt a blade puncture my back, lost my breath, and collapsed into his arms.

The man was gone, lost in the bustling crowd. Some were gathering, but I paid it no mind. I wanted my last moments to be spent looking at my son. My boy. The child destined to end my evil reign. I had always believed he would be the one to kill me, that was my interpretation of the prophecy. Perhaps my earlier compassion was, indeed, an attempt to change fate. But, one way or the other, that prophecy had come true. I could see the rage in his teary eyes. The same rage I once saw in my own. “Do not give into it, I raised you better…” as I faded, and the pain shrunk, I saw the rage transform into utter sadness, and for a split second, he was that baby again.

EDIT: punctuation, spaced out the last paragraph.

"We really just want to help you, Doctor Milloy. Please, open the door. I will send in one man, unarmed, to escort you out. On my honor."

Director Holmes' voiced crackled from the loudspeakers. He'd orchestrated a goddamned insurrection of the facility. Surely to secure the Hominid for himself. I saw the bodies of my peers. Brilliant and beautiful minds, extinguished.

"Doctor Milloy just let me in." Thomas, head of security, called from behind the door. "I'm your friend, right? I would never hurt you, or anyone else in this building. It's my job to protect all of you, that's what I do."

He was right. Thomas was my friend, along with many others on the security team. Why were they going along with this?

"Thomas...what's going on? Why are you killing us?" I called back.

"Debra, I'm not killing anyone. There was an accident, some people got hurt. It's okay, just trust me and open up the door."

"Debra?" I yelled back.

"Yes...Debra Milloy is in there...right?" The voice behind the door replied. It seemed unsure.

Whatever was speaking to me was not Thomas. It did not know me. I prayed it wasn't the Hominid attempting to lure me out.

"My name is not Debra!" I yelled.

The door exploded open. Dust and blood and sparking metal everywhere.

When it was over I found myself in a hallway, ten security lay dead around me, one bearing Thomas' face. My shirt had been ripped where several bullets had glanced me. A pistol in my hand.

I navigated down the hall, caught one by surprise and got him between the ribs, a knife in my hand. Two more spot me, they fire. My tie is cut in two by the hail of bullets. I roll behind a vending machine, return two controlled bursts and they fall, a rifle in my arms.

A shotgun on my back, I draw it and engage the offices in close quarters. A grenade on my belt, I take out four men on the stairway.

The violence terrified me. I did not know how I still lived. I had to stop Holmes from releasing the Hominid. I took the shuttle down to it's containment chamber.

As the doors opened, all strength left my body. I fell to the floor. I could only move my eyes. I was lifted into a chair, my head rolling on my shoulders. Across from me Director Holmes sat in an office chair.

"You really don't know?" He said.

I could only utter a moan from my slackened jaw.

"I will lower the energy level." He turned to a control panel then looked back at me. "Really, it's hurting me more than you."

I watched him lower the rare ambient field to 90 percent. I'd never seen it over 40. I regained little motor function. I could close my mouth, move my tongue. A knife was not on my hip. A pistol was not in my hand. No matter how hard I tried.

He swiveled his chair to face me, wiping some blood from his nose. "So, you are Doctor Milloy, hm? But not Debra?" He studied me. "A research fellow here at Almera, I'm assuming."

I nodded reluctantly.

"You seem to be quite the combat specialist. Twenty five killed in the last half hour."

I blinked slowly.

"Although.." He poked at a large hole in my shirt. "Being bulletproof certainly helps with that, no?"

I looked down at my clothing. Riddled with holes, partially burnt.

"I have a question for you, Milloy. What was your theory on the Hominid? You pursued it for quite some time, you should remember."

I shook my head. I could not think.

"I will give you a hint, then. Our higher-ups assumed it was a weapon. Sent to infiltrate humanity, impersonate leaders, collect intelligence. But you, Debra, you were an optimist. You understood that when the Hominid absorbs a person, it copies more than just the face."

"Aninismind" I mumbled through numb lips.

"Exactly!" he laughed "Any 'intelligence' needed would already be in it's mind! Why then, would it continue the impersonation?" He leaned back and looked into his lap. "They wouldn't hear any of it, would they? So frightened of the unknown that they obscured it even further."

A muffled explosion went off somewhere above us.

"That's the big guns." Holmes sighed. "They'll kill me for what I've done here." He stared at a blister forming on his palm. "Probably won't have the chance."

He reached behind and turned off the field. In a moment my body returned to me. I aimed at my captor, a pistol in my hand.

"You can only create weapons, then?" He let out a pained laugh. "No, you're not the anthropologist she imagined. "

"You fed me to it." I said.

"I fed her to you, yes!" Holmes cried out. "I just...I thought if you were given the right person then perhaps--"

Two blasts at the door of the chamber. It warped slightly. Radio chatter and equipment whirring outside.

Holmes stood up. "That is not the security team. They won't be shooting bullets at you." He frowned at me. "You're quite fucked, I'm afraid."

The poor fellow dissolved rather slowly. The team of HUGO thugs were already cutting through the door. I should've never taken the damn job. They always blame the director for these things.

I hurried out the auxiliary entrance toward my escape tunnel, a keycard in my hand.

To a future Markson of Bonham Secondary School,

I know not what to write for this memory box, and who knows if anyone will read it. It is a needless effort, a waste of time put forth by professor Ford such that our interest will be more captivated by it than the yearly rituals. It will not accomplish anything more than humor, as we made great fun of it during the fifth period. We will still be raising student undergarments up the pole, as is our honored tradition.

Perhaps one of my children, grandchildren, or even great-grandchildren will be purview to this letter, and this is addressed to them. You come from a good womb, and I wish upon you the same success in your pursuits as my dearest father, who took our family from the dirty streets of Philadelphia to our most esteemed standing. May you be spared the smallpox, which came unexpectedly, the first cases in over fifteen years. Many passed, including a few I held as close friends. Rest in peace William and Simon, your memory will pass unto eternity in this ink, your spirit stronger than the flesh.

My hand is tired, and the weather has finally turned nice, so I am off to play baseball.

Most sincerely,

Milton Markson

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grade: E

I most suspect that you didn't think I'd be grading this. Mocking me and suggesting that you will submit to such foolish activities as raising private garments up the flagpole is grounds for flunking. Your future family will certainly see what a dunce you could be.

-Ford

--------------------

r/StoriesToThinkAbout

The facility sent out an alert around 9:30 AM, thought to be no big deal until the reports started getting worse as the morning went on. Guards were being taken down by aliens they couldn't even describe while the calls for help multiplied. The first responders were never heard from usually as soon as they entered the facility, National Guard was mobilized to no better results as the day dragged on. An elite military unit, the HECU was sent in late that day but not to help. The situation had to be shut down with no witnesses to the strange experiments that had gone so wrong. The HECU had a bit of early success but quickly got bogged down by increasing amounts of alien forces and something else unexplained. A few pickets stopped reporting in after sighting an armed employee, as the sightings (and deaths) grew more attention started being paid to this scientist in the strange orange gear, better ambushes got set up on an old rail system. The scientist barely slowed down while chewing his way through the ambush on the way to a rocket that was believed to be his target. Now there was real concern, one civvie was tearing through Marines and aliens without stopping to accomplish something as yet unknown. There was brief chatter that he had been caught but contact was lost shortly afterwards in that sector. Whatever had happened there clearly didn't hurt the unstoppable scientist because he ambushed and destroyed a brigade in a shipping terminal. It was time to get serious, the alien attack was ramping up and pushing back on the gains made by the HECU and this rogue scientist wasn't helping. A massive trap was set up at the hydroelectric dam with a smaller trap at the main entrance of the biological labs. The first trap was hit soon afterwards, all radio contact lost after a massive firefight. Despite it only being one man it sounded like the squad got hit with ten at once. The ambush at the damn waited, then sprung the trap as the orange figure was seen, the soldiers on the ground were dropped fast but the gunship chased him into a large warehouse. The remaining troops relaxed, now it was over. That stopped when the man stepped back outside and shot down the gunship with some strange particle cannon, probably looted from a lab. The last two soldiers charged him from behind, firing as the ran. The scientist turned and shot one with the particle cannon, turning him to a steam cloud. The second marine got close and kicked the cannon out of his hands and tried to bring his pistol up and he struggled to un-holster it, which stopped when a crow bar broke his wrists then crushed his windpipe. As he lay dying, watching orange and red boots receding he heard a last transmission, "Watch out for the Freeman guy, been wiping out every ambush for the last twelve hours, if you see him he is considered extremely dangerous"

I hadn’t heard of it, but with a quick trip over to the wiki, it’s going to be my next read. Thanks for the suggestion.

The stars once told us stories. Our history and our beliefs were written in the constellations. We watched with awe as new ones appeared brighter than any other only to fade over weeks. And eventually we learned that not every spec of dazzling brilliance even was a star. Some were galaxies teeming with life all their own, and others were planets just listing along in their orbits.

They beckoned us. We yearned to fly high enough to escape our world of trouble and despair. Perhaps naively, we dreamed that the places waiting for us above were better than those we left below. We were wrong.

Where we imagined grand empires and sprawling ecumenopolies we found only traces. Great works of engineering that surrounded stars and housed capital ships abandoned as if their makers simply disappeared. They left their mark on the galaxy and then themselves vanished, stumping even our greatest minds. It wasn’t until first contact that we understood.

It was as if the universe itself were guiding us. Planet after planet in system after system we found the life we’d always questioned. But the very problems we wished to escape plagued our newfound friends. Wars ravaged entire systems, famine devastated others. People we’d only just begun to meet were under threat of extinction from disease. Hope for a more enlightened galaxy seemed lost.

In true Human fashion though, the facts did nothing to discourage us. Where the denizens of these worlds had given up, we refused. With a few likeminded planets, we set off to create that dream.

Fleets of science ships descended on plague-ridden worlds. Their sole purpose: to end the sickness that threatened their people. Transports of artificial food were dropped from orbit as engineers and ecologists aided in the construction of sustainable food production. Even diplomats and doctors stepped up to broker peace and aid the casualties.

Word of our efforts spread like wildfire. Even as progress slowed more and more planets joined our cause. Within a decade our coalition was a dozen strong. Humans working alongside Retisans, Artuyi, and many more to make our galaxy a better place.

I wish that I could say things are perfect. I wish that I could say there are no wars or that disease is a thing of the past. The truth is that there will always be challenges, what matters isn’t perfection but it’s pursuit.

An anti poaching task force if you will

Nooooo! Do you have a backup somewhere?

It got removed 😭 that took me like an hour to type

This was fun. Reminds me of The Laundry Files

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Please continue on, this is just so good!

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Thanks for this, definitely enjoyed and the ending was perfect.

Oh awesome- I am not the only one who had this thought!!

All I can say, is WOW!!

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"There is no way that magic is real." he said to the man who was sitting in the driver seat of the government vehicle.

“Believe me, it’s a lot more mundane than it sounds. Most people never experience anything that couldn’t be described away as basic good luck, or coincidence. But those are the lucky cases, worst one that I know of happened back in the 1960’s, apparently a couple in Hoboken figured the whole thing out and nearly destroyed the fabric of society. Took the bookstore, almost a decade to straighten everything out.”

“Okay we are going to come back to that, but why do they call us the bookstore?”

“They call the CIA the Company, the FBI the Bureau, and they call us the bookstore. They do it so that they can talk about us in open company. Besides, I assume that the bookstore was one of the more acceptable things that they could have called us. We handle things that are of an occult nature. Which honestly sounds cool till you've been on the job for about a month. Most people who figure their magic, out blow it in the first couple of days before they can really control it. Seriously the number of people who get caught trying to beat the lottery makes this the most boring job ever. Then again that's probably why we run the game.”

“Back to the Hoboken thing, you mean to tell me that the entirety of the 60’s was the responsibility of people from New Jersey?”

“You can look the whole thing up your self, you have the clearance now. It’s all part of the training documentation, hell it should have been part of your onboarding training. The story goes something like this, an old couple in their mid 70s, grandpa has a failing libido and grandma suffers from migraines. One day she snaps, and figures if she can focus all of her mental energy on a sewing needle the headache goes away, and she finishes her cross-stitch at meth addict speed. Next thing she’s working on grandpa’s muscles, and suddenly he’s like a twenty year old. Over the next three months she teaches him and the two of them start tugging at the fibers of reality as we know it.”

“So all of the things that we know about the 60s are because of these two people. All of the sex the drugs and the rock and roll, all because of those two?”

“God no, seriously didn’t they teach you this stuff. Most of what you know about the 60s is from the bookstore cleaning things up. As you put it the sex, the drugs, and rock and roll were all of the tools that were required to get everything back into order from the mess that the two of them created. You hear about people taking acid and seeing sounds and tasting colors? Well here’s the thing, there were two types of ‘acid’ that were going around at that time, one was LSD, the other was an open door to magic that people shouldn’t be experiencing. The worst outcome wasn’t communism or free love, it was the complete unraveling of reality as we know it. Everything else was part of the cover up.”

The recruit looked down at his pressed shirt, everything had been okay when he had left the house this morning, everything felt right about the world. But now there was something that was deeply wrong and he wondered if it would ever be right again.

“Cheer up, like I said in most cases we don’t deal with anything anywhere close to that. The system is designed that way, most of the people blow it within the first couple of hours of making their first awakening. So we really aren’t anything more than glorified tax collectors. Seriously, flash your badge and see what kind of response you get. Most groups will look at you like your from land management or from the county health inspector, you know… check that, the county gets more respect. If, they recognize the letters then they will probably not give you the finger, but it’s never guaranteed. Some you flash the badge and it just pisses them off more, because now not only are you walking into their jurisdiction they now have to look up what backwater agency the letters stand for. I stopped using my badge about two years back. I think it’s still in there. It honestly if it wasn’t I couldn’t tell you where I lost it.”

Mike knew that he was trying to cheer him up but he still didn’t know what to make of all of this. The lead up to all of it had been so weird, and now that it was here and they had basically dumped all of it on them, he didn’t know what to think. He had sat though the orientation but all of the information that they had given them had been veiled in science speak, and he hadn’t been particularly good at science through school. Most of it went over his head and once that started the rest of it washed over him pretty quickly. They explained, in the most clinical way that they could, that there were people who could modify the world around them using their thoughts. They explained that most of the people would be harmless and that they would just need to be redirected. Then they assigned them partners and sent them on their first run. The whole thing felt rushed and reckless.

Sensing the stress in the silence his partner broken in, “The reason that the trainings are so short is statistically speaking most of the runs that we are going to go on are simple ones, and they make sure that the first couple are going to be routine. After a week they are going to take you back in and give you the full briefing and more training. They do it this way to make sure that you don’t freak out with all of the information. Retention has always been a problem with the bookstore, mostly because its super routine until it’s not. Once you’ve had one of ‘those’ experiences you either hang around or your out. Hang around long enough and you get special training to use some of the skills yourself. Outstay your welcome then they put you on patrol and give you a rookie.”

He let out a small chuckle, and it seemed to ease the tension in the car. The radio cut in, “Mike need you to go talk to Sean, over on willow.” He picked up the radio, “Alright, loud and clear, we’re on it”. He chucked the microphone into the center console. “Well rookie, welcome to your first house call, you’ll like Sean… just don’t look at the paintings on the wall.”

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Cool! I'll check it out. :)

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