After dropping the photo on the ground in complete and utter disbelief, I couldn't help but collapse onto the ground.

"What the actual fuck is going on here?" I whispered to myself. I had no time to keep processing the shocking discovery I had just come across as I could hear "Lauren" coming down the basement stairs. Standing up as quick as I could I immediately headed towards her. This devil took MY wife away from me and was trying to steal MY wife's life? Oh hell no!

I got to the bottom of the stairs just before Hannah the succubus did and I couldn't contain the rage pumping through every copper wire in my being.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" I wailed at the absolute top of my lungs, shaking my vocal cords. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH LAUREN?" This put a look of complete disbelief on her face. It actually seemed pretty genuine but I knew what type of game she was playing. There was no chance I was going to fall for it, there needed to be justice and revenge for Lauren.

"I know who you are you psychopath! You think you can get away with this shit?" Before I knew it I was grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her violently.

"Mark what the hell are you doing? What are you talking about?" Hannah was fighting back, yet still trying to maintain her innocence. "Babe get off me why are y-." Her plea was cut short due to the state of both my hands clasping as tight as I could around her throat.

"You stupid bitch, coming into my life and fucking it up. Huh? Nothing to say now huh?" I continued to squeeze for the next 10 to 15 seconds at the same intensity, staring as deep as I could into the eyes of the woman who had murdered my wife. As her eyes started to close I released her. She went into a horrible coughing fit, covering the wall in her filth.

"You won't feel the sweet release of death tonight Hannah, I'm going to make sure you rot in jail for the rest of your miserable life." I said adamantly. I quickly headed up the stairs and grabbed the house phone to call the police. While dialing 911 I walked back to the top of the basement stairs to check on Hannah. I had revealed I knew her true identity and didn't want to take the chance of her escaping. As I saw she was still laying there, coughing more softly now, the 911 operator picked up.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"Hi, yes, I believe I have information on a murder case. I have the killer in my house right now and I need a unit here immediately!"

"Ok sir tell me your address and we'll have some officers down there right away." The operator said in a very composed manner. After relaying that I lived at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane Hannah decided to speak up again.

"Mark, honey, why are you doing this?" She was struggling to get the words out of her crushed trachea.

"Shut your mouth and stay right there, the police will be here any moment." I quickly answered. I wasn't going to stand for her deceptive ways. The woman laying on the stairs was being of pure evil, one that needed to be treated as such.

After a few more moments of Hannah's desperate pleading I heard a knock on the front door.

"Get ready for your twisted little sick life to get a lot worse demon." I said to Hannah before heading to answer the door.

Outside were three cop cars, an ambulance, and four officers crowded onto my porch.

"Hello sir we got a call about a possible domestic dispute. Can you tell me what's been going on tonight?" The officer closest to the door asked. He seemed to be the Lieutenant or Sergeant as he wore a different badge than the other officers. This was the man I needed to be talking to. Before I could even get a word out, something happened I never could have expected.

Hannah came walking down the stairs from the second floor. She was in much worse shape than I had left her in on the stairs. There were multiple cuts on her face, her nose seemed to be broken, and there was a massive purple bruise on her left cheekbone. While keeping her distance from me and after giving me a frightened look the officers could surely see, she began to speak.

"Oh thank God you're here officers! He's been beating on me and I couldn't take it anymore!" I almost believed her for a split second too. She sounded so innocent and heartbroken, like she's been battling with inner turmoil for a lifetime and finally decided to take action. She even had tears streaming down her face for dramatic effect.

"Is this true sir?" The officer in charge asked. I couldn't believe what the hell was happening. First she appeared upstairs, then the bruises and cuts appeared, and now she was feeding a bullshit story to the officers with the delivery of a seasoned Broadway actress.

"Hell no this isn't true!" I said with confidence, finally managing to get a word out. "This woman here is a killer! She murdered my wife Lauren and is trying to steal her life! You have to believe me!" My words seemed to have little to no effect on the officers.

"Ma'am?" The officer said inquisitively to Hannah.

"I don't know what he's talking about officer, he's gone crazy or something!" Hannah said innocently.

Looking back at me the officer sighed and pulled his handcuffs out. "Please turn around and put your hands behind your back sir."

"What? No way I didn't do anything!" I said defiantly.

"Sir, turn around and put your hands behind your back NOW!" The officer wasn't playing around now. I tried to think of what to do next and the officers took that as a sign of resistance. Within only a moment I had two sets of hands, one on each arm, turning me around and hand cuffing me.

"You can't do this to me! She's a killer! A KILLER!" I screamed as the officers dragged me away from my house. How did she do it? How did she get upstairs? How did she get those marks on her face? What the hell was happening right now? So much had happened in the last 10 minutes my head was spinning and I was beginning to feel sick. The officers read me my Miranda rights and threw me in the back of one of the squad cars. I could see Hannah spreading her lies to one of the officers who stayed to talk with her. He was writing down notes and probably believing every word she was saying.

The officers who had detained me started to leave in their cars so I was forced to sit and watch Hannah give the rest of her statement. Once they finished talking and the officers started walking back towards their cars, Hannah stayed in the doorway to watch. She locked eyes with me and I could swear, was even smiling a little. Whoever that was, it wasn't Lauren.

The officers drove me to the police station without saying a word. Once at the station I was processed and booked. My mug shot was taken, my fingerprint was filed, I was charged with first degree assault, and I was also charged with first degree battery. I thought, this can't be real. I had definitely choked her, but that was besides the point. The woman living in my home wasn't the woman I married. She had murdered my wife and was now trying to steal her life.

Once processed I was given an orange Albuquerque prisoner jump suit and thrown into a tiny cell. The five foot by five foot "room" consisted of a piss stained cot and shit stained toilet.

"Fuck." I said quietly to myself. "How did I end up here?" I spent the next hour or so trying to process what my next steps would be. The charges against me weren't going to be dropped and there was no way that I could fight them after what happened at the house. All of the officers had seen a beat up, cut, and bruised woman cry before them about how she couldn't be abused anymore. Still though, I would eventually have a chance to seek out justice for Lauren. They couldn't lock me up forever because of this.

After sitting in my cell for another hour or so my chance came sooner than I thought. An officer opened my cell door and told me a detective wanted to speak with me. I was escorted out of the cell block and taken to a private interrogation room. I waited for only a short time before a man walked in carrying a huge binder. He didn't wear a blue uniform like the rest of the cops, but instead khakis with a button shirt and a tie. His badge hung down from a lanyard covering part of his tie. He seemed to be about forty five to fifty years old, probably an experienced, grizzled cop who had seen a lot of shit in his day. He pulled his chair real close to mine, pinning me in the corner.

"Hi Mark I'm detective Gary Fring, I've heard a lot about what's happened tonight so I just need to understand what happened from your side. Tell me your version of events from tonight at the house." Detective Fring seemed to be reasonable and willing to listen.

[removed]

I would read a story about these two. I think their dynamic seem really interesting!

♪♪ Trust I seek and I find in you Every day for us something new Open mind for a different view And nothing else matters ♪♪

It felt really bad to be thrown out of the class for having a slightly different choice in music. I do not understand their Do-Re-Mi. It just does not flow to me. Isn't that not how most of the creative arts work? Why is it so difficult to have a open mind. All I wanted was to share this beautiful music with the class.

The lights in the room had started to dim. I didnt notice.

♪♪ So close, no matter how far It couldn't be much more from the heart Forever trusting who we are And nothing else matters ♪♪

Plus all my friends were laughing at me. As if I had sacrificed a cow in their presence. Are these even my friends?I guess I just a have a different taste in music that's all. Its not wrong, Its just art. I don't care. I'd never go to that class again. It gets me all riled up anyways.

♪♪B̵u̶t̶ ̴b̷e̴w̵a̸r̸e̶ ̴F̶o̴r̴ ̶w̵h̴e̸n̴ ̷y̷o̷u̴ ̶q̵u̶e̶n̶c̶h̷ ̵y̴o̷u̵r̸ ̴b̵l̸o̴o̴d̷ ̴t̸h̶i̶r̷s̷t̴ ̴O̷t̶h̸e̶r̴s̵ ̵w̶i̵l̸l̵ ̷s̵e̵e̵k̵ ̴t̴h̷e̴i̵r̴ ̶v̴e̴n̶g̴e̸a̴n̴c̴e̵ ̶o̴n̷ ̷y̷o̶u̴ ̶A̵n̸d̶ ̶t̶h̵e̸y̸ ̷w̵o̶n̸'̶t̶ ̴r̴e̶s̵t̶ ̴U̶n̷t̴i̴l̸ ̸y̸o̷u̷'̵r̵e̴ ̶d̸e̶a̶d̴ ̸ ♪♪

The lights had started to flicker now. The rug had caught fire. It had started to spread.

Why did my dad had to hit me with that book on my head. It was not like I was not going to study? As if the day was not stupid enough already. After that shit music class, the maths one was a relief. The homework was my way out of the bullying kids in the ground today.

The fire on the rug resembled the ancient sumeric summoning circle.

♪♪ T̸h̸e̵y̶'̷l̵l̶ ̸h̵a̵v̷e̵ ̶t̷h̷e̵i̶r̴:̷ ̷S̴h̷i̴v̸?̶ ̸c̷h̴e̵c̸k̵.̸ ̵P̶i̸p̸e̵?̷ ̴c̵h̶e̴c̴k̴.̵ ̴H̸a̴m̶m̸e̵r̵?̸ ̴c̸h̴e̴c̵k̴.̸ ̴A̷x̷e̷?̵ ̵c̵h̷e̴c̴k̸.̵ ♪♪

He didn't have to tear the book after hitting me with it. A grown up man has a problem with the music I listen to? He can not even walk straight every evening, and gets mad at my music. I wonder what music he listens to at his bar that gets him all riled up to come home and beat me up.

The circle had started to turn black now. As if some extra dimensional being was making his passage through it.

♪♪Subject? check. Location? check.♪♪

♪♪Desire? check. Vengeance? check.♪♪

I'd have to go get myself another book & the worst part is that I would have to face those bullies on the way. They are so much worse than my dad. They think its some kind of sport to pelt stones on me everytime they see me. They twist their necks in false imitation of head-banging. I wish it actually causes their necks to snap someday. What is wrong with these kids. It's so pleasant what I listen to. Why is everyone so against it. I don't force them to listen to it. I mind my own business, why cant they mind their own? The lights went off. The only source of light in the room was now the circle.

♪♪ Ascend - Awake - Arise O Ye Flames of Perdition Havoc - Ravage - Demise Damnation's Gold

Judgement materialized The flames converge Behold Desecration take form and emerge ♪♪

One of these days I am going to payback everyone. The teacher & friends at school, who think they are so elite. This craft they act so proud about, is what is going to spell their doom. I wish I could make them suffer at their own exquisite taste of music. ♪♪ A̸s̸c̶e̷n̵d̸ ̸-̷ ̸A̵w̷a̶k̴e̸ ̶-̶ ̸A̵r̶i̶s̵e̷ ̸O̴ ̴Y̸e̴ ̷F̵l̴a̵m̶e̶s̸ ̵o̷f̴ ̶P̵e̵r̵d̵i̷t̵i̶o̶n̷ ̷H̸a̷v̶o̸c̷ ̴-̷ ̸R̷a̸v̵a̶g̷e̶ ̷-̵ ̶D̶e̶m̶i̷s̶e̴ ̶D̶a̸m̴n̸a̸t̴i̶o̴n̵'̴s̶ ̶G̸o̷l̸d̸

̵̣̃J̶͙̐u̷̲͌ď̵͚g̷̞͆é̵̝m̶͇̄è̷͚n̷̞͊t̴̹͊ ̵͕̔ṃ̴́a̶̒ͅt̴̰͐ë̸̪́r̶͎͂ȉ̸̘ă̸̖l̸͖̅ĭ̶̪z̴̯̾e̸͚͑d̷̢̉ ̶̻̇T̸̞͘ḧ̵̖́e̸͍͒ ̷̲͘f̸̲͠ľ̷̰a̴̦͑m̶̳̓e̷̽ͅs̷̺͂ ̷̣̍c̵̹̎o̶̝͛ň̶̟v̵͑͜ë̸͙́ȑ̵̦g̴̩̈e̶͕̓ ̸̧̕B̸̟͆e̶͍͑h̷̝͠ō̸ͅl̷͈͝d̴͎͆ ̴̩͊D̴̞̈́e̴̗͑s̷̭̐e̸͉̚c̴̛͍r̵͚͐ȁ̵̡t̶͕͠ḯ̵̲ó̶̻n̴͈̈ ̵̫̃t̴̙̽a̴͔͐k̶̤̓ę̵̃ ̷̲̈f̵͚̿o̵̦͌r̶͉͠m̶̳̑ ̵͕͌a̷͉̓n̵̦͠d̵̗͗ ̵̻̎ȩ̸͒m̶̝̋ȅ̷͙r̴̒͜g̷͎̓e̷̪̾ ♪♪

And why leave my dad alone? He has been beating me forever I can remember. As if everything in his life is my fault. I didnt ask to be born to him. I didnt ask him to gamble at his bar. I didnt even ask for the thing that happened to mom. Yet, I am the reason for his misery. I wish I could show him what it really means to be a bane of his existence.

And these good for nothing bullies. Id snap their neck like twigs, and make them head-bang like a puppeteer for eternity. Going through the agonizing pain every moment of their life. That would show them to never bully anyone ever.

Marduk had ascended through the circle and stared at the being who summoned him. The being was still not done with the summoning.

♪♪ Doomsday embers Damnation's spread The Dark embodies Death stands prepared ♪♪

Marduk grants your wishes. Summon me if you need me again.

sad soup

tbh "sonne" by Rammstein fits perfectly to this...

If anyone had asked me what horror was, up to half a minute ago I would have definitely answered something on the lines of "demons" or "zombie apocalypse".

But nothing could have prepared me for the shock of seeing two identical faces, two indistinguishable beings staring back at me from the yellowed photograph that fell out of my wife's sister memorial.

The more I stare at the picture, though, the more subtle differences I notice. I could definitely tell my wife from her twin in the picture; maybe for the fact that her smile never had that grinny appearance, maybe because her eyes are a lighter shade of brown...
Wait, what color are my wife's eyes?
With all the commotion, I haven't had time to notice, lately. I always complimented her about the expression of her eyes, their ability to communicate her feelings, her emotions to whoever she was talking to.

As I turn the picture over, a single sentence made the last of my securities disappear:

​

"I have always admired you. Always wanted to be like you. Always wanted to be YOU".

​

>!This is my first time ever writing anything. Comments are very appreciated, as is any constructive criticism. I know I am not a good writer, but I would really like to get better and write something for fun. Thanks!!<

EDIT: Wow, the support and constructive criticism of this sub never ceases to amaze me! Thanks to everyone who took a couple of minutes of their time to give me a piece of their insight, to provide an external point of view or to show their appreciation!

EDIT 2.0: An award?? I'm flabbergasted, everyone! Thank you all for the support, advice and encouragement!!

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I have so much to be grateful for in my life. Loving parents. A happy life. Great friends. Enough wealth to live comfortably. A wonderful little village, free of the issues that plague society. My father’s shop grew immensely successful and large enough that the townsfolk rushed to our village for merchandise.

I thought I had it all until I met the love of my life, Alice. She was a thing of beauty whose gentle face enveloped in kindness pierced me immediately. Before I met her, I thought I had loved other women but I learnt that it was all mere infatuation. A love that lived on sand dissolved by the sea.

Admiring her dedication in making armour in her forge, talking about everything under the sky with her, going on wonderful strolls through the forest, I knew I was actually in love. The day we both confessed our love, we danced and danced all through the night.

After months of deliberation and frolicking, we knew that it was right to get married.

It was tradition for the groom to propose to the bride at her house with his family on the day before the marriage. Marching along the road with my parents and relatives, my heart was throbbing with excitement at the last stage before our marriage. After that, Alice and I could build a new house, a new life together! Perhaps, even live at the coast for a few months. I couldn’t wait!

As we stood in front of her house waiting for them, a gentle yet cold breeze stirred up. Shivering a bit, we held ourselves closer.

“Quite unusual for the summer, eh?”, I muttered to no one in particular.

“Indeed so, quite unusual you’re getting married!”, my cousin laughed.

While the others laughed and joked around, my father had a nervous look about his face. His eyes were darting around the place and he started to sweat terribly. I nudged him and asked what was wrong.

“Son”, he said while looking around, “you will always be my son, whatever happens.”

That was a confusing reply. Before I could ask him more, the whole world grew darker suddenly. The cold gust stirred up again shaking the trees and grass. My soon-to-be wife and her family rushed out panicking.

As I was looking around puzzled, I felt a growing chillness around my neck. I held my neck to warm up but it seemed to make it worse. I started to panic and shout and then I saw it appear out of thin air. The ultimate nightmare of every villager, a creature with a face as blinding as the Sun but without its beauty, and a form twisted and bent in every way. A creature stripped of nature and charm. The Devil had appeared on Earth and its claws were fixed around my neck.

After a loud cackle, a booming voice erupted from its mouth.

It cast a malicious look at my father. “I’ve come back, fool. As agreed, your firstborn is mine. He shall enjoy the delights of my empire!”

He started to lift me up now. Even though I struggled and shifted, the iron grip around my neck was stronger than any noose.

“Oh evil one! I beg of you, please free my son from your grip!”, he pleaded.

“An oath is an oath, mortal. You sacrificed your firstborn to me for your ventures 25 years ago, and I have come back at last.”

An oath? Did my father sacrifice me for building our- no, his shop?

The devil had crushed my ability to speak, but I darted an angry look at my father. What was he even thinking then? How could he do that? And why did it have to be today? After all these years, after meeting Alice, before our marriage and life together? I could have gone with the devil as a baby without a clue or a word to protest!

My father’s face grew apologetic now. How I hate him, he has ruined the lives of everyone!

“Evil one, I beseech you, you have made a mistake!”

“A mistake?!”, the devil roared.

“By our oath, I granted you my firstborn. But the one you hold was not born of me! No child on this earth has been born from me, evil one.”

What is happening! I am not my father’s son?!

“Bah, you villainous human and your adopted bastards! Do not think I am done with you!” With another loud yell, he threw me down and vanished, bringing back the sunlight.

Everybody rushed to my side and looked concerned. A tearful Alice held me as I looked to my father.

“Forgive me that you had to hear it from the devil. You are adopted but you will always be my son.”

I smiled, “Only you could make the Devil your messenger, father.”

Great story, thank you for writing it for us

Most powers containing the syllable "any" in their description are ultimately horrifying.

This is so good!

When he got the publishing deal I really was excited for him. And I honestly had meant to read more of it. I cared-a lot. But making time to read had been hard. I thought I'd read enough to catch the gist of it but now...wow. I did not get to dig into the context the first time.

I stared at the last page feeling a strong mix of emotions-at least a few variations of guilt. I never felt like I failed to appreciate him, but taking so long to have read this weighed heavily on me. He'd deserved more enthusiasm from me. More authentic engagement. And he even seemed like he believed that I understood it. Now that I have...my response at that time just hadn't been enough.

When I first picked it up it felt like a whole different book but as I read I came across the parts I actually had made a few moments to read before-only with different clarity. The depth he'd...already given.

That I hadn't made the time to see the first time. Ugh.

Right then an app notification went off. I knew without looking it meant he'd pulled into the driveway. It was about that time of the day. I scurried to put the book away so that I could look normalish when he walked in.

I'd already decided days ago that I would address it today but I wanted to be tactful about it.

I heard him come in and hang his coat, just as he always did. Alright. Acting casual. Casual. "Hi baby! How are you?" I leaned in to peck him on the cheek and he returned in kind. I gave him the same hug as ever-full of sincerity.

"Oh, you finished the book."

"Uhm. What. I-"

"You did finish it right?"

"No I-yea befor- I-what. I-how could you-"

"Because I can see it in your eyes. The click. You're doing the fangirl look."

"No I'm n-"

"I knew you'd like it. It's about time you actually did read it. Not surprised you took so long. You've had a lot on your plate."

"You're not upset? I feel so guilty."

"Good.", he said with a wink, "Next time don't wait so long."

"Oh yay. So you're writing another one then?"

"Of course you hadn't noticed. Juuust kidding, I'm just starting it. What's for dinner?"

"Uhhh. I...didn't cook. I'm so- are you ok with pizza...? You see what I mean. I should've-you deserve-"

"Sounds good to me. Pizza works. And stop looking at me like that. I'm still the same person."

"That's just it," I pout, "I've been taking you for granted. You've been this person the whole time all...talented and look at me, married to a hotshot author acting like you're any ol' body."

"Uh I prefer it that way, so really if you could go back to that it'd be terrific. And you've always looked at me doe-eyed anyways- so who're we doing for pizza?"

"Nuh uhhh...I dooo not-...I just-I love you."

"I love you too. Pizza?"

"Ok yea. Pizza. Right. And tomorrow-what do you want me to cook? Anything you want. Anything."

"How long are you gonna be like this?"

"Forever probably. Or next week. So-pepperoni?"

Book. Movie. Even part 2 just give us more. So much potential

You have to get pretty far in it before that reference makes sense, iirc.

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Or realize and realiSe.

Haha, I agree, I got angry as hell for her

Okay, some pronoun confusion at the start. "Their" could have been "Inanoi Middle school's", and "she" would reference Nox. If you reorder it a bit, you can eliminate that kathunk.

Something on the order of

>Nox watched Nay as she blah blah.

However, two characters with three letter non-gendered names in a single paragraph is an unnecessary barrier to the reader for a flash story. Ah, looks like you changed to Amber and missed the first paragraph?

>playfully ruffled

Nope nope nope. Teachers do not touch kids.

>rubbed against her leg

WTF. Your "hero" is a molester? And has convinced the kid to change her name?

SMDH.

#SOUP

Nice. I'll buy it, because "murder down 90%" sells it.

Smoke and shadow and fear cloaked the creature. It groaned and creaked like an ancient forest, stretched tall and unshaped before the world. Its dark eyes pulled the gloom from the night sky and peered at me, hungry.

I trembled. The lamp dangled from my arthritic fingertips.

“Wish,” the being whispered.

My lips parted and released the faintest of breaths. “After all this time,” I gasped. “You’re real.”

The shadows twisted and tugged toward an invisible center and formed a figure, an imitation of man. The desert breeze stirred at its edges; the illusion of a cloak billowed in the night. The being’s eyes lingered on me and a mouth cracked open beneath its gaze. “Wish,” it commanded. The cold in its voice stung me. I cleared my throat.

“Genie,” I stated. “I am your master. I will command you.”

The smoke and shadow erupted in front of me. The genie’s eyes vanished, but its voice rang out from the air, clear as birdsong and hard as stone.

“Now that you have freed me, I must grant you three wishes.” I nodded in agreement. “Fable,” it spat. “Assumption.” It commanded again, with more force: “Wish!”

I took a step back. I had searched long for the lamp. Decades spent in obsession, until I was nearly dead in my old age. I scoured and pillaged the remains of the old world to find where it rusted. Dedicated a lifetime to make my desires reality. All the stories, the legends - they all agreed the genie was to be mine to command. A slave, for three wishes.

But now it deigned to command me?

“Wish,” It repeated.

“Why?” I rasped. “Why do you insist? If your servitude is a fable, then what is the truth? Explain it to me.”

“Do you wish it?” The genie asked.

“I do,” I replied. I was tired. Too tired.

A brief glimmer of light flicked across its eyes- surprise, or excitement, I could not tell. But it seemed to take a breath, and said:

“My tale is that of a flower in the sunlight. The plant grows, bound by natural law. The sun nourishes the growing plant, from seed to stem, until it becomes bountiful and mature, and it shares its blossoms with the world. Together, the light and the plant bring forth beauty.”

“The flower is the wish?” I asked.

“Indeed,” replied the genie.

“Is there more to your tale?” I asked. “The stories state you were once a man, enslaved to the lamp.”

The night seemed to sigh around me and the genie continued:

“Nature made me what I am. I have no more beginning than the stars themselves. The lamp is merely an intersection, where I stand to meet you.”

Silence. It contemplated me, waited for me to respond.

“So you are not my servant?”

“No.”

“But you do grant wishes?”

“If they be of sufficient grandeur to bloom,” it said. “Now,” the air pressure dropped. The night convulsed around the genie. “Wish.”

I inhaled deeply. I spent years planning my wishes. Their wording. Three simple wishes, which boiled down to money, life, power. It was always those three and those alone. But now, I might be able to have more wishes. More opportunities. I just had to say the words with sufficient flourish.

“I wish,” I said, “that I be the wealthiest man alive.”

“Ah,” the genie quavered. “Of course. As. you. wish.” It gasped and groaned, the air aroused with magic power.

All the darkness of the night leaked from the world and pooled around the genie’s feet. The sky grew bright and blue. The sand erupted with gold. The new daylight welcomed into the world the change that the genie’s magic weaved.

The genie was no longer cloaked. He was no longer shadow. A naked man stood in the desert sun, his skin the color of roses and his eyes glistening with silver. He shivered in the morning heat. “It is done,” he stated. “You are wealthy beyond measure.”

I grabbed the genie by the shoulders and shook, ecstatic. “For my next wish,” I began. “I wish to be young and in my prime!”

“No,” the genie stated.

“No?” I asked. “But it was only one wish. I thought I would get more.”

“Again,” he said. “You assumed.”

I gestured around me. The golden sand, the crystal clear blue sky. The genie’s own rosey form. “It was beautiful,” I said. “What about the blossoms? We can make another wish blossom just the same.”

The genie reached out and gently took the lamp from my hands. He tucked it away. Where, I could not know.

“You believe you are the plant,” the genie said, his once cold voice laced with pity. “But you are the sunlight.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means that your wish did not blossom for you,” he said. “It blossomed for me. To keep me alive. I was gasping, moments ago. Hungry. Now, I am satiated, and I will leave you to your wealth.”

“But I am gasping,” I said. “I am hungry, and i am dying too.”

The genie turned away from me and began walking across the sand.

“I am dying!” I repeated, “What good is wealth if I am dead?”

He turned back, and grinned.

And he was gone, in a blink. I fell to my knees, frantic.

“But I won’t live much longer,” I called. “I’ll die like this!” I shouted out for him. “I’ll die too.”

I am dying now. I will expire in mere days. I have spent all my moments wishing. Hoping the genie would hear me and answer.

Have this nourishment of my desires. Please…

I wish I had spent my time on this earth differently. I wish I hadn’t squandered my youth in search of you. I wish I had children. I wish I had friends. I wish I would die surrounded by people I loved. I wish someone loved me. I wish I had asked for life before wealth.

I am alone. And I will die alone.

I wish the genie to rot and decay, that he falls back into shadow and dust. I wish he hides in his lamp and waits forever for a fool who never crosses his path. I wish he dies before he grants another wish. I wish he dies with me. I recently learned that I am petty.

I wish.

The adventurer guild was going through a conundrum. Some of the more generous donations followed subjugation of dangerous creatures, the remodel of the main headquarters was funded by a wyvern swarm last month. But now, the high-profile targets were vanishing at an unprecedented rate!

Sure, sometimes a dragon in the area would get there before them, but they usually got the carcass to fake the achievement. "Sand Dragons are a pest..." Atticus was determined to discover who was getting on their way, the guild had a reputation to uphold and donations to earn.

"Hmm, I will issue an alert, we have to investigate this sabotage."

===

Angorod grinned while petting his rooster mount, today they would feast on Basilisk! The snake body flicked a tongue and the bird tail got antsy for the hunt. He drank a potion and tied a blindfold. "Let's go, Tweety!" He drew his spear and spurred his ride. -Ba-cawk!-

He trusted Tweety with his life, counting the seconds until the rooster reaches the basilisk. His grip on the the staff was adjusted, the monster had powerful scales, so he had to aim for the gap, and the closest one was the eyes. "I'll have to miss out on one eyeball..."

Skewered balls were delicious with pink salt, so he would savor the remaining eye. A tap on the shoulder was the signal, he got ready to impale his prey. When Tweety crowed, Angorod jumped off and aimed his weapon.

He left the poison sacs and the riskier organs for his ride while dismantling the carcass to put away in his storage. Yum, offal with spice, roast tail with sauce, fillet with wine, what should he whip up today? "Meat~ Roast it, grill it, put in a stew~"

He could make soup with the bones and barter for ingredients with the hide. The dwarves promised good pay and some recipes if he managed to bring an intact crown comb. He saw Tweety's hungry look and quickly carved out the part. How dangerous.

===

Guierre led his team into the basilisk territory, wary of ambushes. It was an important source of alchemical components, and too expensive to buy from breeders. "Strange, we set up fireworks and left bait, but it isn't reacting..." Had it already migrated?

The adventurer party found an orc and a cockatrice feeding on the dead basilisk. The warrior got furious and dashed at the culprit, sword on hand ready to fight. He got parried with a bone staff. "Easy there, I'm not an enemy." The orc knew their language?

Angorod pulled out a medallion from his satchel, making the leader almost faint at its meaning. "She told me it would keep me safe..." He was a treasured associate of Margot, and the item would alert the witch if the orc died.

Between an angry guild master and a furious sorceress, Guierre would take his chances with the human. "The Apocalypse Hag... How did they meet?" He sighed, no use in chasing after hypotheticals. "Retreat, it's too risky to fight him."

THAT worked.

Well done.

This arc would need more than one conversation. I'd like to see a three parter, with actual villainy and actual conflict.