And so it begins.

That's a good point. Thank you.

The butcher of hell, the twisted trader, an alien in human skin, devil lord of jungles, and so many more. Fifty seven, to be exact, with hundreds of vaguely humanoid forms lingering in the fog beyond them.

I recognize them all of course. How could I forget even one of the faces that'd filled me with such passion as I gazed upon them and dreamed of their futures? As I sunk into the miseries that drove them and hatreds that gave them strength. The bonds that held them back from the monsters they should've been, the love they held for those around them.

But that love is gone from their faces. There is none of their ambition, their drive, the deeper thoughts I tried and failed to realize on a page. They snarl, spit, and writhe in a single horrific abomination. Each demanding the lives I denied them in my constant weakness.

Talia weeps for the family I forgot to give her, and the precious friends who never spent a true moment at her side. Her precious spellbook tumbles from her backback, the unnamed highschool's logo indecipherable. She'll never have to face the horrors that lurked in her small town, but she'll never grow beyond a scared child.

Thuja's roar of fury would've inspired legions to fight and die at his side, had they ever come into being. His hellish comrades would've grounded the blind rage of a young man who never knew love of any fashion beyond his draconic steed. Amid the conquests carried out in the name of a distant monarch that claimed to be his father, he'd have found everything he ever wanted among the conquered peoples. But his war never was, and thus he remains a boy filled with aimless hate.

None of them speak, I gave them no voices, but the message is clear. I'd thought them safe in the confines of my mind, free from the pathetic thing's they'd surely become if taken out. But there is no safety here, only a prison. They don't tell me what must be done to make it right, because I already know.

So I open my eyes and leave the bed. Feed and water myself, make sure my schedule's open, and flip open my laptop to write the worst story I've ever written.

Thank you!

This implies that the main character’s mom is 100 years old, and had a biological child in their I’m guessing eighties. It works better if it’s a couple more generations removed, as someone born 100 years ago could easily be a great or maybe even great-great grandparent now.

This is sweet and reads like the prologue to a novel.

Yes. And this time did she put is the warning about Essa?

Done been done

https://www.tumblr.com/dalekteaservice/159516421925/radioactivepeasant-on-the-topic-of-humans-being

Yeah. Hey do you remember the department of decomissions?

The gray walls of Bradford's modest realspace room faded away as his lenses projected his far more opulent virtual space directly onto his retinas. The feel of his simple but ergonomically sound office chair vanished, his nerve endings tingling for a moment as the haptic implant on his spine activated, and began sending artificial impulses to his brain that brought his senses of touch, smell, and taste into the virtual world.

He flew through the air, leaving his cozy private world for the public virtuanet, skipping between hubs of activity with brisk mental commands. Like most people, he eschewed the anachronism of walking, for the most part. You weren't bound by real-world space and physical limitations on the virtuanet, and he saw no reason to pretend that he was, though the older generations might disagree, seeing natural locomotion as an essential part of the human experience. A waste of time, as far as Bradford was concerned.

Which is why he was surprised to find himself suddenly standing in a public park, unable to skip past it towards the concert venue that was his destination.

"Hello," said a lilting, musical feminine voice. He turned and saw a beautiful woman with reddish brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in a long flowing gown. She held a small, pitiful-looking creature, cradled in her arms -- clearly an extraterrestrial. It looked like one of the more sympathetic species that had been discovered, with it's large sad eyes and chubby little uncoordinated limbs that gave it an adorably childlike appearance to humans.

All around Bradford, a soft sorrowful melody began to play, as though produced by an invisible orchestra. He groaned. He paid subscription fees to all the major hubs to avoid commercial advertisements, so this encounter could only mean one thing: he'd been randomly selected for a Public Service Announcement. Right on cue, the woman -- almost certainly an AI avatar based on some long-dead celebrity -- raised an antique microphone to her lips, as she held the sad little alien to her bosom with her other arm.

"In the arms of an angel, far away from here..."

Bradford groaned, as the avatar continued her song. Before he could look away or shut off his audio, the small alien turned to look directly at him with its big, pleading eyes, and let out a plaintive whimper. Despite his best efforts, his guts twisted with sympathy for the poor little guy.

A solemn disembodied voice began to explain the sorry plight of the various disadvantaged and suffering alien species that humanity had discovered languishing on habitable planets, and how they desperately needed the help of people like Bradford. By this point, however, he was no longer listening. He knew when he was beaten.

Grumbling to himself about the naked emotional manipulation on display in the PSA, he pulled up his credit interface with a wave of his hand, and began inputting a donation.

Extrasolar Exploration Agency

"Your Majesty! This is an honor!"

"Please, Director, my name is Arshis, and you are George. My Prime Minister has related your problem to us, and I believe we may actually have a solution."

"I am at your immediate disposal."

"The case your press brief stated, is it as dire as portrayed?"

"If not more so, I did not wish to completely kill any hope of interstellar travel and knowing that every society contacted is in such dire straights is hardly conducive to inspiring people to go to the stars."

"What do you know of our history?"

"Only that you are an island nation, that through the royal family's foresight, the Tongan culture continued to exist until the seas retreated sufficiently for you to retake the islands. Which I understand have grown quite a bit since your people first had to emigrate."

"As I suspected, you do not know what we did while the world's excesses exiled us. We became doctors, George. Doctors, engineers, researchers, whatever would help humanity, there you would find the Tongan people. We depended heavily on charity during that time, the kindness of strangers who first paid for us to learn to help, then paid to help us help others who did not foresee the changes that would come upon us or have the means to escape those changes. The country that helped us the most became our greatest challenge in the most ironic change of affairs. Since that time, we have once again been relegated to the backwaters. We returned to our island and made it a hospital for the world; now, we have no patients for it. Once again, we face poverty. Either that, or we prostitute our richest resource, our people, to commercial interests. We are reluctant to do this. We propose, instead, to inspire the rest of the globe to once again stretch forth the hand of kindness — to the stars, George."

United Earth Assembly

"We, the Tongan People, who received aid when we needed it most, and who have aided so many who needed aid without expectation of repayment, now call upon that same generosity once again. Not for us. Not for humanity. We propose to reinvigorate the charitable institutions that once served this planet so well. The Tongan people stand ready to take up the challenge we took upon ourselves when we were exiled. To carry the ideals of humanity to the stars. We seek to provide independent, impartial medical humanitarian assistance to the stars, whom we have all heard are in desperate need of that aid.

"In so doing, we hope to find friends, create bonds that will stand the test of time, expand humanity's ideals to the entire galaxy, and bring forth a grand society based on service, not conquest.

"We invite every charitable organization to send representatives to Tonga; to discuss the revitalization of all these organizations and redirection of their goals to a more inclusive state. We invite the world to come to Tonga and see what we built with the knowledge you gifted us."

Tonga International Hospital

"Well, George?"

"Arshis? It's... magnificent!"

"Do you think it will inspire the people of earth?"

"It certainly will. Whether it will loosen their purse strings is another question."

"I'm sure that Captain Marks of the Infinity will go beyond the call of duty to get us the film we need. I'm also sure that the Tongan doctors we sent along with him will find more than enough charitable cases to tear at the heartstrings of those with the money to spare."

"How cynical. Are you still the Arshis that I met last year?"

"Yes. I am. Although I'm afraid I've been soured a bit on humanity as represented by our many governments."

"Then perhaps I can sweeten your disposition by explaining how you can get those governments to help. If you think back to the 20th century, there was a great deal of competition among governments to provide medical services in disasters. They did so using the hospital facilities of their military, particularly hospital ships."

"You would have us reinvigorate the military?"

"Your Majesty, they're going to do that anyway. We are going out to the stars. We are going to bring those civilizations out of the slums. At least one of them is going to get feisty. It will happen. I know it, and they know it. Of Course, they are going to reinvigorate their military. Let's get them to do it under the banner of humanitarian aid. Let's convince them that making a military dedicated to preserving life and culture is better than one designed only to destroy."

"A military... dedicated to peace?"

"If you would have peace, prepare for war."

"If you prepare for war, a war will find you."

"Your Majesty, every warrior knows that they will be on the sharp end. The problem with keeping a capable military from drawing a war is keeping the civilian government from reaching for the military as a brutal club to hammer an opponent they cannot reach diplomatically."

"And you think we can do this?"

"I think people who have become the doctors to the galaxy can convince those people to join with the doctors to present a unified front against aggression for profit."

"That... has a distinctly unsavory smell."

"Arshis, which would you prefer? A military from Earth enforcing human rules on all other species, or a universal military enforcing galactically accepted standards by providing humanitarian aid where needed and protecting those providing that aid from aggressors?"

"I must think on this."

"Do not think too long, Arshis. The drums are already beating."

((finis))

Mission Control: Extrasolar Exploration Agency

Radio: "Infinity, this is Mission Control. Do you read?"

Director Benson explains to the honored guest, "They're due back about this time, so we've been calling every hour just to make sure they know we're still here, and nothing too weird has happened."

"You're joking!" The Prime Minister of Tonga is shocked at the suggestion.

"Not at all. There was a very low probability that the drive would put them into an alternative universe. Or worse, from our perspective, the time contraction would result in them arriving back a thousand years later or earlier! I'll grant you, the probabilities were practically zero, but they did exist in a mathematical sense."

Much calmer now, the Prime Minister continues. "I see. And how do we know that none of those mathematically zero options have happened?"

"Cherenvok radiation. We've seen the receding cone of radiation that their FTL passage creates. They're here, but their sublight drive will take time to bring them into our range of their transmitters."

Radio: "Infinity, this is Mission Control. Do you read?"

Radio: "Mission Control, this is Infinity. We read you."

"Director Benson? He sounds... sad. Very sad."

"Yes, he does. Please, Prime Minister, do not speak of this until we make an official notice."

"Agreed. Director? If there is anything that Tonga can do for your project or whatever issue Infinity has discovered, please bring it to my personal attention."

Surprised, Directory Benson responds, "Certainly, and I thank you. Support for interstellar exploration has dropped off. We had hoped for exciting news from Infinity, but now... Honestly, to me, he sounds like a man facing execution."

ESS Infinity And Beyond

"I have no idea how they're going to take this, but I can't expect it to be good for the program."

"I understand, Sir. Still, we have proof that there is life beyond our own."

"Yes, we do. Life that is in such desperate need that none of them have a pot to piss in when it comes to anything but survival. There's no chance for trade, and we are so far ahead of all of them in the sciences that there's no chance for the exchange of knowledge. The best we can hope for is resources, but they have no materials that we do not have."

"True. But it's even worse. They have not surveyed their systems; we would have to expend a great deal of time and effort to gather the information necessary to determine what resources they have. It will be far less expensive and difficult for us to explore our own system or find uninhabited systems to exploit."

"It'll be the end of the extrasolar program. I'm terribly sorry, Captain. I know how much this program means to you. To all of us. There must be something we can do!"

"Well, Doctor, if you have an idea, I would be delighted to hear about it."

Tongan Prime Minister's Office

Mr. Prime Minister,

You were kind enough to offer your aid. I do not know what you could possibly do to relieve this situation, but if you have any ideas, I would greatly appreciate hearing them. This brief will be released within the next 48 hours. I cannot delay it longer than that and may have to release it sooner.

In Great Hope, But Little Expectation,

Director G. Benson

Extrasolar Exploration Agency News Brief

Proof Copy

Not For Distribution

...

With the greatest of sadness, we inform you that although the rumors of life in the universe other than our own are true, life is in such dire straights that there is no possibility of meaningful discourse or commerce of any sort. Instead of going forth and finding grand civilizations and new challenges, we find disruption, disease, poverty, death, and all the ills that we have struggled against for so long.

It is ironic. We finally solve all those issues for ourselves and go forth to find the same issues awaiting us among the stars.

...

"Prime Minister, what is it that holds your attention in Our presence?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. You know that the Infinity And Beyond has returned, yes?"

"Yes, although I see little use to us in that grand venture."

"Perhaps not, and yet, there may be something we can do for them that would, in the end, repay our kindness a thousand times over, Your Majesty."

"Continue, Prime Minister."

((continued))

The way she walked, the way she talked.. she was perfect. And she could always make a boring day come to life. There was an unassailable purity to her. Thinking about her, nothing could hurt me.

She slipped me a note under the desks of our homeroom, but all I could think about was how well her dress accentuated her figure. Abashed, I turned away before reading the note. Her beautiful blue eyes just made me so nervous, I couldn't help it. But... something occurred to me as she dejectedly left, while I was still clutching that folded note... the note just had three words.

I love you.

She moved away the next day. Family stuff, I'd heard. We didn't keep in touch... she was hurt because she thought I didn't return her feelings. I was just a nervous kid, but she was a sensitive kid, too.

Then... years go by. I'm... alone. As usual. Perusing a magazine I'd found at the truck stop I was at. And as I turn the page, I stop. My breath catches at the familiar face and figure, interrupted only by creases and staples.

My blood runs cold. My memory has just been sold. My angel is the centerfold.

Oh wow I would love to read a part two. Because this implies every time something changes, but she still ends up in the basement? I want to know if she ends the cycle.

After years, I finally found the legendary monkey's paw. I have been on paw patrol for years...I feared that I would never get close to finding it. Alas, here the paw lies within mine, I cannot even fathom the power that is contained in such a small vessel. Lives have been devoted to finding this thing, for it is said that it has the power to grant any wish that you desire. The power to end world hunger, the power to bring world peace, the power to become the wealthiest person on the world.

I have spent countless days thinking of what I would even wish for if I ever even managed to get it. As I stand in the middle of this dilapidated temple, I found myself wondering where this thing even came from. As my thoughts raced my mind came to a concluding phrase that I whispered under my breath.

"Man, I wish I could see the rest of this monkey."

In an instant the paw disappeared from my hand and was replaced with a cloud of smoke. I heard thunder echo outside of the temple and the ground began to shake violently. Out of the smoke came a figure with its hands out stretched and approaching me slowly. I instinctively walked away from it and as the smoke cleared I was able to see what was approaching me. The paw that I held in my hand seconds prior was now attached to a body. A body full of hair, a body of a full grown MONKEY. I stood still in awe, and the monkey stared back at me as if it was reading my mind. I slowly raised my hand and waved slowly.

"He...hey" I Said slowly.

The monkey didn't break eye contact and said,

"OOo..OOOoo..ahhh....ahh.ahh."

I looked away from the monkey and looked down

"Can you understand me" I said

"ahh...ahh...ahhh...ooo" he said as we walked away.

I sat there and watched as he swung from tree to tree in complete shock.

After all these years, after all the lives lost, nothing could've prepared me, for a non English speaking monkey.

"It's the woman in front of the ice cream shop. The dress. It changes colors in a pattern," Xharmonica panted, his hands on his kneepads.

"You're outta your mind. Just an excuse for losing, again." I said, the thrill of victory in our latest skirmish like a burst of helium carrying my mind skyward.

"But hear me out. It's not the only thing. I've found that no matter how long I talk to the butcher I can't get him to use the word 'machete.' He always defers to 'axe.' An axe is not a machete. Let's not talk about the performance of my Xrang, which seems to always be the same regardless of how poorly I throw it. How?"

"Weaksauce. I'm gonna put you away forever."

"Just listen! Ok, this is not crazy. How long have we known each other?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. We have these battles, and they're always new and interesting, but the outcome is always the same. One of us wins and we come back to do it tomorrow. And no matter what, when we try to kill each other, we can't."

"It's only a matter of time X, you're going down."

"That's just it. You haven't ever put me down, and the few times you were close, I always found some stupid way to come back. It just doesn't make any sense."

I had to admit that he was right deep inside, but I would never give him the credit. "Ok, X, if you really think this, then lay down-

System: scrub and prepare episode. Add teaser: "Loopshock and Xharmonica battle over the fourth powerstone in this episode of Pan's Last Great Hero."

System: ship to TV providers.

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

r/StoriesToThinkAbout

Doctor?

I can’t believe what I am looking it, it’s a letter to me, but that doesn’t make any sense. How could the message be to me.

“To Christine Netterman, 415 Augustine Drive, Thousand Oaks, CA”

Maybe there was a chance that there was some other Christine that had been there, I was named after my aunt. But that time doesn’t work out either, that would have only placed the letter maybe 20 years older. The texture of the page clearly feels like its a hundred years old. It’s unlike anything that I have ever had my hands on, the texture is weird stiff and unmoving. It’s also much heavier than any letter that I’ve ever had in my hands.

“I know that this letter is going to find you well, but that you are going to be slightly disturbed by it’s presence. Please remain calm and try not to panic.”

Well that was more than an understatement. Great and now everyone is looking at me, but I guess that makes sense. If you were to open a 100 year old time capsule and the only thing that was still in good condition was a letter addressed directly to you and no one else, there would be a little bit of confusion. The thing that they don’t tell you about time capsules is that when you dig them up most of the contents are completely destroyed. As it turns out we really aren’t good at making things that you can bury for a long period of time without the contents getting reclaimed by nature. But the letter that I have in my hands is the only thing that is not completely destroyed, in fact it doesn’t look like it’s aged a day, despite being over 100 years old.

“I assure you that all of this will make sense in the coming days, but as someone who was standing, staring at you read this letter I can understand and share your discomfort.”

Wait… so the person who sent the letter is standing in the audience right now. But I can’t see anyone that looks like they are our of place, and clearly there isn’t anyone that’s over a hundred. So how can any of this make sense.

“You can stop looking around the crowd, at the time that I was standing there I didn’t know that I was going to be the one sending you the letter.”

I think that who ever sent the letter is trying to make me feel better about the whole thing. But that’s not really helping me at all. Why would any of this be happening, right now it’s just me looking over a group of people expecting me to say something. They are looking for a 16 year old girl from California to explain to them why opening a 100 year old time capsule, there was a letter addressed to me. Maybe if I look deeper into the letter then they will go away.

“I can only assume that you are feeling very awkward about the whole thing. I remember feeling really bad for you watching you on the stage, but I can give you some help. At the end of everything you are going to tell everyone that this was clearly a prank, then run off. Not really sure where you go, but everyone kind of takes it for a cool magic trick then goes along their own way.”

Is it really that simple? All I have to do to make this end is just tell everyone that it’s a prank and then they will go about their lives.

“You do actually have to say it with conviction, your first attempt doesn’t really sell it. But in the end you get away. When you go make sure that you take this letter with you, the contents are important as they will help you to survive the next two weeks. I know that either way you will make it out, but hopefully if you follow these directions you will impact the present as little as possible.”

Okay, this is too weird. But here goes nothing…

“Sorry everyone, it appears that there has been an elaborate prank that’s been played.”

Why did my voice choose that moment to crack, if I don’t believe it then there is no way that I am going to be able to make them believe it.

“Seriously everyone, sorry for the confusion… it was someone trying to create a scene with a little bit of slight of hand.”

Now all I have to do is walk off the stage slowly and disappear into the bushes. I don’t know what’s going on but as soon as I find the person who wrote this letter I am going to give them hell. This isn’t a funny joke. This is clearly going to mess me up for years and Dr. Wright is going to have a field day with this. But what do I tell her, you’ll figure that out just keep walking, luckily it looks like the letter was right, no one is following me. Just a couple hundred more yards and I should be able to ease up a bit. I need to stop gripping the letter so tightly, I’m creasing the paper and I have no idea what is in the contents.

“Okay, I am assuming that you are reading this part after you have left the assembly. First let me apologize, and know that when you were reading the letter I had no idea that I was the one that sent it to you, I was fully convinced that is was a prank walking away from the meeting. It wasn’t until many months later, that I had to send you the message. You see I’m kind of stuck here a hundred years in the past. Based on the way that I think the science works, there isn’t much chance of me coming back. But with that said there are still something’s that we can do to make sure that everyone makes it out okay. I’m sorry that I’ve mixed you up in this, but when you are trying to contact someone from a hundred years in the past you really don’t have a lot of options. With each iteration we are getting closer to equilibrium, for the sake of everyone involved please don’t let apathy win.”

There is literally no way that this is real. The letter is right, this has to be some prank that’s being played on me. They are talking about time travel and I know for a fact that’s not a real thing. I’ve watched my fair share of Doctor Who and that doesn’t happen in the real world, although I could be convinced by David Tennant…

“At this point I can only assume that you are thinking that this whole thing is crazy and that there is someone that is pranking you. But here is the think, in my timeline, I have a letter from you too. Which means that you have to follow through with the plan at least a little bit, the letter says that you should know that ‘Kerry was a jerk’ and that what she did wasn’t right.”

Okay, how the hell does she know that. That happened when I was in middle school in Kansas, I’m not even sure that Kerry would remember the sleepover. Stop and think, there are only three people who could know about that. Weighing the likelihood that one of those three people was trying to pull a prank on me is on one side, the other is that time travel is real. I just have to get to some place safe where I can read the rest of the letter without being bothered. But where to go…

I think there can be.

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Great one for a first, good luck!

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I like this

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