Something He Can't Take

Oh, man, I had to go to school today on those epilepsy drugs and it was hard just getting through the day. It was just miserable. I had to take more drugs and nap more after I got home too. Well, at least I got the power to do today's story, though it definitely isn't as impressive as some I've written in the past. But maybe it'll entertain some of you so that's good.

Something He Can't Take

          “What do you say now human?” The alien with six eyeballs on its stomach laughed. It had two long mouths stretching along its arms that each spoke with a different tone of voice. “Your cities are being reduced to rubble and your people are surrendering faster than they are fighting.”

          “I say I'm keeping something that you cannot take from me.” the human, now in rags, walked towards the alien and pulled out a knife.

          “What are you doing?” the alien pulled out a blaster in response. “I'll shoot you down right here if you don't surrender!” the human rushed towards the alien ignoring the blaster shots going through his body. He almost reached the alien, his knife less than an inch away from its flesh, but he collapsed. The alien then grinned in both its mouths. “I'm now taking your life, just like I took away your city and your family. What could I not take from you human?”

         “My honor.” the human said while he looked up at the alien's six eyes.

Synchronicity

Oi, I swear these past few days have been rough, it took me awhile to do anything as I had to take one of those strong meds, I took the medication roughly in the morning and it took me until like 6:00 to feel up to doing anything. But fortunately I got better and was able to complete today's story. I hope you enjoy, I kinda slapped in together pretty quick, so its got a lot of problems, but I think you'll enjoy.

Synchronicity

           The band played with an audience of thousands and speakers the size of monsters to bring their music to every inch of the stadium. Their music could muffle a nearby thunderstorm. Hologram effects made the stadium look submerged in water, even adding schools of fish that swam through the audience. Classical effects like fire and fog ran across the stage at the band's feet.

           They played a song that melded with the audience's heartbeats and filled them with adrenaline. The notes pulsed through the brain's of the audience, pulling their minds with them. The lead singer's vocals made the audience focus only on the band. The audience swayed in tune with the lead singer's dancing.

           In the center of the stage the Tower glowed in response to the audience. Electric companies hired bands to perform in front of the towers for them to collect energy. Humankind had invented a way to change human emotions into energy and music was one of the ways to herd those emotions. Tower's were placed in parks, malls, art shows and movie theaters, but bands were the simplest and they could be paid by the volt for their work. The purer and more shared the emotions were the more power they produced.

          She should have stopped when she heard the faintest bang behind her, but the music made her and the audience ignore it. She felt so much adrenaline when she looked at the audience and danced. The only time she felt truly alive was when she was leading the crowd and their emotions were being taken from the air, then passing through her to reach the Tower. She then heard a spark that wasn't one of the instruments or a special effect. When the audience's faces became bleak she turned around, still dancing, to see the Tower cracking, as if it was glass. The tower then blew up, the band played to well for it to handle and all those emotions came bursting out in colored waves, like rainbows. They ran straight through her.

         She felt fragments of every mind from every person go through her. Every detail of every emotion. She collapsed to the ground, the emotions of thousands still running through her head like stacks of memories. She awoke in an ambulance.

         “You alright?” the nurse asked.

         “It was beautiful.” she stared at the ceiling of the ambulance, mentally rewinding her experience, and every time she played it over she noticed new emotions from the crowd and she knew she would never look at an audience the same again.

Hunting Yourself

I had a bad day today again, so I couldn't muster up the energy to write something completely new, so here's something from the days of old. Concept wise, its one of my most favorite stories I've made. It even utilizes the often ignored second person perspective. Anyway, enjoy, its copy and pasted from an old word document so the formatting will probably be off. It was originally written September 18 2009, I haven't edited since then either so watch out for mistakes! I don't like using old stories like this for my blog as I would rather come up with something new, but its nice to dig up the old archives every once in a while. Enjoy the story!

Hunting Yourself

You were your most difficult prey. You couldn’t use guns, nets, boomerangs or arrows to catch yourself. None of those mundane tools would work; you had to catch yourself with your bare hands. You were close, very close, but when you saw yourself approach the edge of the woods you feared the chase was over forever.

You saw the forest as your last route of escape. Looking in the distance behind you, you saw yourself barreling towards you. The hungry eyes of yourself struck fear into you. The idea of that predator catching up to you scared you, and that was all you could think about.

Your belly rumbled as you wanted for yourself, only you could end your own hunger. As a person dying of starvation, your gut twisted when you ran into the forest; luckily you had the energy to follow.

The forest became obviously the last place you wanted to escape into. Because, in fact, the woods were yourself too. The stream was your doubts, flowing through you, the rocks your morals and values standing strong. The blades of grass were your loves, gently tickling your feet. As you saw the trees, your growing desires, blanketing yourself in shadows, you realized that perhaps inside yourself was the best place to hide from yourself.

The chase could not stop; you needed to be fed, to have yourself be yours. When you started to hide inside yourself though, the pursuit became far more difficult. Whenever you got ahead, you doubled your pace to keep up. Yourself seemed to know the way around yourself better than you did. The running had started to wear away at you. Your legs began to feel like they were stabbing themselves after every step.

You were filled with hope when you began to falter and stumble behind you. However it wasn’t long before you began to feel tired as well, you fell into a stumble just like yourself did moments ago. Eventually you had to stop, luckily, you had to as well. You and yourself both collapsed in the Meadow.

The Meadow was the center of yourself, the river, the trees, the rocks the grass, they all met here becoming your heart. Now you and yourself were trapped inside you.

You looked at yourself and you looked back. Both the predator and prey gazed at themselves in confusion. You knew you would get back up eventually, and yourself as well. A truce existed only as an impossibility, you could never trust yourself.

It was then when you entered. You looked upon yourself and yourself and around at yourself, feeling only pity for yourself. You stood clothed, while yourself and yourself both lay on the ground cold and naked. You didn’t realize your nudeness until you looked at yourself wearing some clothes of your own. This only situation made you feel very embarrassed and very alone, with no one but yourself to keep you company.

You cupped some water from the river from yourself and brought it to yourself and yourself. You drank it hastily and thanked yourself. It was then that you left yourself to think about yourself, in all that loneliness. You didn’t even have yourself to keep you company anymore, only you was there. You could think only of yourself and how far away you were. This eternal chase scared you; this impossible run strained you too much. You cried.

Then you saved yourself. But you could not by ending the chase that could not happen. You saved yourself by realizing there was no chase. You stopped looking at you in the distance, or you all around you. You just looked at you. You realized that the only way to find yourself was to stop looking.

The Warp Space Highway

We didn't go to the movies today because I had a Kepra flare. Kepra is one of my medications and sometimes it “flares” and causes me to have hot flashes and frustration. I had to sleep and rest up and it took me some effort to finish the homework I needed to take care of. Fortunately I could write and take the stress away, but I fear that the quality of today's work suffered because of the flare. I still hope everyone enjoys it though.

The Warp Space Highway

         From the inside of warp space stars and galaxies looked like hail flying by. Humanity made warp space by pulling open tunnels through reality with nets of wormholes. They built roads and highways through warp space to expand their territory to every corner of the universe.

         Micheal's ship flew through warp space with its rockets flaring like a forest fire. He smiled. He didn't care about anything while he raced along the highway, anything except the rush of adrenaline he got when he felt reality being pulled through him. The faster he went through warp space, the more of a rush he got. A unique kind of joy came from tearing through reality.

         Every part of his space ship was stolen, illegally modified or both. He won every warp space race he was in, whether it was a legal race or not. During races he thought of his opponents as fading memories when he passed them. He didn't care about his opponents as they never stood a chance. But when he saw the colored lights through his back scanner he remembered the one opponent that did give him a challenge when he raced.

         It was the Highway Patrol. Only they had parts as good as his, technology capable at going at the speeds needed to give him a rush. He enjoyed when they came after him. And each time they became more challenging with more spacecraft, better equipment and more determination. Their ships surrounded him and he smiled. He reached for the button to activate his most powerful thrusters. His mouth watered like a hungry animal's. He needed that rush, and he mentally thanked them for giving him the opportunity.

        But when he pushed button for his thrusters nothing happened. When he looked out the windows he saw thick blue lights. He figured out they must have been using some sort of energy field to disable his thrusters. The situation filled him with depression. Not at the fact that he would be going to prison, but rather from the fact he wouldn't be getting the rush. He felt as if a loved one had fallen ill and he could only wonder if he would feel them again.

The Man on the Screen

Well, today nothing special happened, though tomorrow my family and I will be heading out to the movies and lunch so yay! I suppose I'll have something more detailed to write during tomorrow's post.

Anyway, here's today's story, I hope you enjoy it.

The Man on the Screen

         George Washington, Sun Tzu, Rosa Parks, Einstein, Cleopatra, Hitler and Santa Claus. She replicated them all. Whatever assignment she got she made. If someone asked for a lost loved one to be brought to them she swept her fingers across the keyboard and coded them back to life. Or rather a replica of them, to be pulled out of the computer and put on a holographic display. She never used the money paid to her for her programs. She just coded during the day, read a book during the evening and played video games till her unchanging ten o' clock bedtime. The money from her work either piled into the bank or diluted itself through hundreds of charities. She never hired butlers or maids and made her simple lunches herself. Every Saturday she left the house for groceries and every Sunday she met her friends for a simple shopping trip where she only bought games or toys that she put in her closet or scattered on the floor.

           One night she coded a replica of a brown puppy that a young girl saw pass away at the heel of a car. The programmer pushed enter to compile the code and the dog barked at her. With a few clicks she sent the file for the dog to the young girl's family. For once in a long time she had no assignments and wasn't in the mood to play her video games or read a book. She already showered earlier that day. The only choice she had was to let her mind wander, a strange sensation for her, as she normally had her brain hardwired to some task on hand. At first she had nothing to wonder about, but then a tiny, little thought dashed through her head.

           “What would I make for myself?” the thought whispered to her. She came up with the idea to give herself an assignment. But she couldn't think of anything. So she just started coding, but not a replicate, something new. She then got feeling in her body, a sort of yearning she hadn't felt before. She started to make a man. The man she coded in her computer had a deep, strong voice. He had black hair, and mellow brown eyes. She sculpted his body like a Greek statue. She gave him a kind personality that gave like a priest and protected like a soldier. She put her hand on the screen. She pushed her hand onto the screen, trying to see if she pull the man out. She thought of projecting the man onto a hologram, but she thought it would stupid because then her hand would just pass through the man. She yearned for the man, she wanted him more than food itself. She hit her keyboard aside, wishing she never put him on the screen to begin with.

           Then, as she read the clock, 9:23, she realized the night was coming to an end. So she thought of the next day, then the man. Then she thought of the grocery store, then the bar on the other side of the street from it. It crossed her mind that maybe after shopping for groceries she should go to the bar and start searching man outside the screen.

The Artist of Darkness

       Did my teaching internship today so I didn't have a lot of time to work on this story, but I think you'll still like it. Have a nice day everyone!

The Artist of Darkness

       The artist knelt to hide herself from the creature. Her bright blonde hair made her easy to spot so she had to work hard to conceal herself. Though her skinny body did let her squeeze into tighter spaces. She practiced for many years on her techniques of concealment, but even then she hadn't reached perfection. She sketched the creature with haste and precision.

       She called the being a creature because of her interest in them. She couldn't call them what they actually were. She thought the twisted horns, red skin and gnarly tail were beautiful. She could stare for hours at the blue flames coming from the beings body. No matter how twisted they were she called them creatures instead of what they truly were: demons.

      The demon sat like a monk while it ripped to pieces its meal of pork. The demon didn't bother with clean and quick killings. By the demon's very nature it ate and ate without much thought put into its actions despite being as intelligent as a human. The artist worked to capture every aspect of the creature.

      “Class is over.” her art teacher tapped her on her shoulder. The artist put down her pencil and looked at her work, she still saw the demon in the corner of her eyes. “You can finish tomorrow.” the art teacher told her, “How you make such detailed and creative pieces is beyond me. You're so talented.” the art teacher said with pride in her student.

The Perp

Been having bad seizures recently, so had to take some of those meds, giving me writers block and such. Which is why I haven't posted anything these past two days, but now I'm recovering a little and managed to pull a story together that I think is decent. I hope you enjoy!

The Perp

         “Now tell me where you stashed it!” the cop snarled while he pounded the table with his fist. The metal of the table made an unsettling shudder. The cop glared the suspect in the eyes. The cop was much taller than the suspect, by at least a foot and a half and stood with a straight back. The cop's black hair was barely illuminated by a single dull bulb hanging from the interrogation room's ceiling. Another, shorter cop, hung in the corner of the room like dreary curtains.

        The suspect's bald head sweat gallons of water while the cop started him down. His green skin grew pale under the pressure. The tentacles hanging from his face trembled. He grabbed onto the table with all six of his fingers, and his four eyes danced around the room, trying to avoid the cop's strong gaze. The suspect hated that he moved to Earth just to get caught up in this mess.

        “I don't know where they put it!” the suspect yelled with a thick extraterrestrial accent.

        “'They'?” the cop's expression turned an angry red, “You had accomplices, how many? And where are they?” the cop screamed. The suspect could feel his four stomachs becoming nauseous. He'd never been in such stress before.

        “One Tarkin paid me to take it all through customs then hand it to the human with the backwards red cap and black coat.” the suspect's voice trembled, “That's all I did before you scanned me for substance residue!”

         “That's all you did?” the cop asked, still keeping his voice at a shout.

         “I think he's telling the truth.” the second cop from the corner of the room said calmly. “If he had actually known the street value of what he was carrying he wouldn't have accepted the measly twenty thousand we found on him?” the second cop then turned to the suspect, “Did you actually know what was in the package.?”

         “Jewelry? I only looked inside for a second, they told me it wouldn't fit in their bag.” the suspect wasn't sure what to say. The second cop let out a huge laugh.

         “You actually thought it was jewelry?” the second cop smiled and looked at the other cop. “He doesn't know anything.” the second cop then opened the only door in the bleak room, “You can go.”

Story Cube #1

(Note: When I went back to edit the title of the post I noticed this story cube may be broken. If you see a bunch of letters going straight down instead of a grid that is a malfunction and the story cube is not displaying properly.)

Alright, today's story is a strange one, in so far that you have to read the story in a specific way. It is something I call a story cube, which is a bunch of letters mashed together to make a “cube” of words and phrases that the reader pulls sentences out of. This is my first I've every made and I came up with the concept this morning(I wonder if anyone else has?) The example underneath the “cube” will clear everything up. Oh, if your getting my blog through email, the cube may not work, so head to the blog itself if there's a glitch, I've heard that the spacing in my things can get messy through the auto-email function.

Here's the cube.

T
W
O
B
Y
M
U
H
T
H
I
V
U
L
O
V
E
D
E
L
A
G
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N
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R
A
M
D
L
S
A
E
L
U
I
A
W
O
K
E
Y
S
S
R
N
E
V
E
R
Y
H
E
Y
F
L
E
M
I
W
E
B
U
I
L
D
P
F
O
R
U
M
B
E
A
T
E
N
U
N
S

And here's an example: If you start from the upper left corner and go down you get “THE MAN” then if you go left from the N in MAN you get NEVER. Then go up from that R at the end of NEVER to get REALLY. Then move from the second L in REALLY to come across LOVED. Then you can find the E in HER at the end of LOVED. Thus you get the sentence: THE MAN NEVER REALLY LOVED HER. There are more combinations I put in there besides the example, some more vague than others and some more flexible(sometimes the words are just next to each other, and not inside each other) see how many combos you can find. I may make bigger cubes in the future with more elaborate tales.

Have fun, and don't worry if there's a letter or two that don't fit into words exactly, make whatever tale comes into your head from the cube, even if its a misspelling!

The Archeologist

Well, that girlfriend alluded to in previous posts broke up with me, but it was only a two week relationship so I'm fine really, though she was nice, what a pity. Anyway, trying new epilepsy medication this weekend and I had an incident yesterday, though the meds didn't hit me as hard so I managed to get out a story today, though I'm not sure how well it turned out.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

The Archeologist

         She led her fellow scientists into the several hundred year old ruins. All the scientists were nervous that the ruins would collapse around them. The ruins had been buried under the new city above, with the walls of the ruins being a fragment of the foundation. The scientists had the crawl beneath the pieces of the ruins to move on.

        The archeologist smiled, with dirt in her blonde hair. She wiped sweat off her forehead while keeping her flashlight in hand. She was so eager. If the relic was in here, she would be famous. She could hardly contain her excitement. She thought of the magazines she would be on, all just for finding the relic in these ruins.

        She saw a bit of loose soil. After digging at it a box with letters in a language she could hardly understand fell out. She held the box, resisting the urge to scream in delight. She couldn't read the letters on the box. But she knew this had to be it. It had to be the relic. So she opened the box and there it was, the relic from those old ages. She pulled out a twenty-first century cellphone; and considered herself the luckiest person on the planet.

A Hero's Trailing Thoughts

Yesterday I was mentally hit hard by the epilepsy meds I had to take, so I couldn't come up with a story in time, though now I'm recovered from that so I could make a new story. Also there's good news insofar that there's a new medication approved in the US and my doctor prescribed it to me. Now, I've had numerous meds and other treatments backfire, so I don't think I'll try this during the school semester, I'll probably wait till spring break or summer so I don't have to worry about it impairing me. (I took this one medicine that actually made the seizures worse, and made me stupid, to the point where I couldn't order food at a restaurant. But I'm off it now.)

Anyway, now for today's story!

A Hero's Trailing Thoughts

        Too impressive to be called soldiers, but too human to be called weapons the superheroes of the new age walked the Earth as gods. A brilliant scientist decided one day to defy God and invented a substance that would alter someone's body and turn them into a super being. He made evolution obsolete, though the substance would only affect certain people based on their genetic code. Though not based on eye color, skin color or anything resembling a race, it affected a little pile of junk DNA on the far side of the human genome that no scientist gave a second glance to before the substance's invention.

        An aged superhero stood on the balcony of a massive skyscraper's 50^th floor. Throughout his youth he psychically scouted out crime from that balcony. The substance gave different gifts to different people, but none of the gifts lasted forever. His visions of crime used to be clear and detailed, but now they came to his head like television static. Before he could fly over the city, but now he could only stare at the skyline from his balcony. He saw a large mountain in the distance. He remembered his secret hideout in that mountain, he figured now it was probably just a home for rats.

        He remembered bringing crooks to their knees with a thought. He remembered reading Dr. Demolish's mind to figure out where the villain planted the bombs. He remembered creating a psychic barrier to protect the city from a tornado created by a weather machine.

        He held his tattered cape in his hands, the only part of his costume left. Its light blue cloth still had his emblem in it. Though now the emblem was just a barely recognizable “T”. His mind wandered and he thought of his sidekick, who joined a superhero team long ago. He also thought of his relationship with an anti-hero, but she refused to play by anyone's rules so he couldn't stay with her.

       He then thought of the normal people he now passed by everyday. Now that his powers wore away he was among them, but he didn't have any of their experiences. Heroes were taken out of schools, relationships and jobs to serve justice and stop those who would abuse the power of the substance. He thought of all the lives he saved, but also thought of the fact he lost most of his.

      He threw his cape off the balcony and went back inside to watch TV.

The Mansion

Today's story is a special story, written specifically for my girlfriend. I'm not sure how many of you will get it, but this day's story is for her, though I hope as many of you as possible will enjoy it! And I wish everyone a happy Valentine's Day!

The Mansion

          The moon cast an eerie light on the forest of jewels. There were trees made of sapphires and emeralds. Diamond roots dug themselves into the ground, the roses were clustered rubies. The fallen leaves of autumn were thin sheets of copper, amber and gold.

           The young woman that walked through the forest didn't know where she was or the last place she'd been before. While she continued she wondered if it really mattered how she got there. After she wandered for about in hour through the forest of jewels, she ran across a large mansion with a thousand windows. The wooden door looked lonely between all the marble walls.

          When she entered the mansion the world became a complete darkness, when she turned around the forest of jewels had vanished. But then a hallway appeared, full of light. It was full of windows that showed a different scene from her past in each one. She saw family at the dinner table, solemn lonely days with no one else around, her best friends all laughing with her and long school days that seemed to stretch time like a cook kneads bread.

             At the end of the hallway was a young man, holding a crystal ball. He played with it like a mundane toy. He ran the fingers of one of his other hands through his dirty-blonde hair. The man turned his head and locked his eyes with hers. The blue eyes of the man united with woman's and started to pull feelings out of her. She lost her nervousness, her fear and any anxiety as the man pulled her with his eyes. Without being asked she walked to the man and held out her hand. While still keeping the crystal ball in his left hand, he took her with his right. When she looked into the crystal ball herself she saw her and the man, as if she was watching from the perspective of a bird hidden in the shadows.

        “This crystal ball is our imaginations fused, this mansion is actually our perceptions and ideas combined. I see different things through those windows, different experiences, but where we both want there to be light there will be light and where we both want there to be darkness there will be darkness. It's both our choices.” the man handed the crystal ball to her. “Now let's explore the mansion together.”

Shadow World

Well today I'm off to hang out at my girlfriend's house. I won't have enough time to write today's story normally so I'll be reposting something I wrote in 2009. I hope you enjoy it!

Shadow World

         A lone man sat next to a tiny candle in the middle of a blank room. Behind him he could see the door, the only other feature besides himself and the candle in the room. Though really he hardly ever looked at it and its golden doorknob.

          His sunken-in, unblinking eyes locked their gaze on the candle, the only light source in the room. The candle's strong, yet small, flame lit up his ghostly blue eyes. He had on long white pants and a white-sleeved shirt. He wore no shoes because he never left the room. He had a wide grin filled with happiness from his perfect world inside the room.

           He sculpted this world with his own hands. He crafted trees, mountains, clouds, animals and people all by wrapping his hands around the candle’s flame in different ways. He usually started his day by making house and walking into it to find his dog, barking silently on the room’s walls. He made a cell phone to call his nameless friend to his side. The most they could do is play rock-paper-scissors with him acting the parts of both hands. He never beat his friend.

         His most favorite thing in the world was his girlfriend. He crafted her with the perfect figure; she had been shaped with such sensual curves the man felt like he needed nothing else. He could never kiss or hold her in his hands, but he could make her dance. And how she danced was quite incredible it was like watching a living song. And at the end of everyday he said goodbye to the magical world around him as he fell asleep next to the candle that never went out.

         One day someone destroyed his world. Right when his dog barked hello at him he saw the entire world vanish in an instant. Someone had opened the door to the room. He frantically tried to make his dog again to protect him, but he could not, he tried to make his house to hide in, but he could not, he couldn’t even make a tree anymore; the second source of light from beyond the door made his attempts to construct his world futile. He turned away from the light in denial of its existence.

           He half expected to burn in this strange light, but no matter how long he waited nothing terrible happened. The only thing the light did is make him much warmer than the candle ever had. He collapsed to the ground, curling up in a ball. He feared the light that took away all his power of the world.

Through the door came a woman that resembled his girlfriend from the old world. This woman was not crafted by his hands on the wall, she had dimensions beyond his old world. She existed. The mysterious woman of the light descended upon him and picked him off the ground while he still folded himself in a ball next to the candle. She exited the room with him in tow.

           She had pulled him out of a world completely in his control and brought him into a world where he had very little power. But this world was real, with color and volume, with actual people he could hear sing and shake hands with. He had fled this world into the solitary room because of the feelings of weakness it used to give him. He preferred the safety and power of isolation. So for a long time he had lived in his Shadow World, and loved it. But when reality entered his room he realized that he loved the real world more. Fate, and every one of its members controlled the world of the light.

Ageless Knight

Just wanted to wish everyone a good day. I've been feeling well, now that the side effects of the epilepsy meds are wearing down. I hope the meds didn't hurt the quality of today's story too much.

Okay, so here it is!

Ageless Knight

        The old knight sat in his golden throne. Long ago he passed the age of three hundred but he didn't look a day older than twenty. His body sat there stiff, with his jaw hung open. His eyes were closed while his hair gathered dust. He could still think and remembered the burden he carried and why. He thought of his old sword, still next to his throne.

         A demon had descended upon the kingdom and terrorized all, lighting flew from its eyes, its breath froze the air and its feet left fire in its wake. No army could scratch the beast and the king of the land sent out for a wizard. The wizard came up with a plan. He was going to use a spell that would bind the beast to a human body. No one in the kingdom would volunteer, except for the knight. The knight took in the beasts soul into his own and the beasts body collapsed and rotted away.

        People forgot about the knight and his sacrifice, all except for his own lineage. His great, great grand daughter visited the knight almost daily. She knew he could hear her. She told him of many things happening in the kingdom and the world. She read stories to him though he would never respond to her. She didn't need a response, knowing she kept the weary knight company was enough for her.

One day the great, great grand daughter brought her son to the knight. The son was mystified.

        Several months after the son's visit scientists came to see the knight, none of the them initially believed it until they saw the ageless man himself. One of the scientists, an eager young one, walked up to the knight. Then, after a moment's contemplation tried to pull the man off the throne. The demon's soul then began to leap from the knight to the scientist. The demon sought to leave the body of the knight and become free. The knight then took his sword and lunged it into himself, so the demon couldn't complete the journey.

The Strings

         I wrote a lesson plan for my internship yesterday, but today's internship had to be canceled because I had an epileptic incident yesterday. My girlfriend helped me a lot with the incident, even helping me to the front seat of the car while it happened, the look in her eyes was of a strong kindness and empathy, I appreciate her help greatly.

Here's today's story:

The Strings

         A deity laid in a place that wasn't quite part of our reality, but also not separate either. She lazily held out her hand and strings fell from her fingertips into our reality. They attached themselves to an ordinary young man. Everyday he passed by a girl he had a crush on but couldn't bring himself to speak to her. But this day the strings of the deity latched onto him and pulled him close to his crush. The strings then pulled his mouth open and made him speak. The crush blushed and agreed to join him for dinner.

         The deity then pulled her strings away from the young boy and attached them to a woman many miles away. The woman was in a job interview, her possible new boss locking his eyes on her. Some of the strings attached to her knees and make them shake. The others grabbed hold of her heart and shook at it. The woman grew nervous and lost all composure. The employer wasn't impressed by her lack of composure and sent her away.

          The strings then flew to a middle aged man who stood next to the edge of the roof. The man looked over the edge with both conviction and doubt. He had many reasons to step over the edge, but many others to step back. One string attached to his head the others to his arms. His arms were then pulled over the edge. The man screamed as his head was pulled over as well and he plummeted to the ground.

           The deity laughed at her game as she enjoyed it so much. The strings then broke. She always hated it when this happened as her game had to stop for her to make new strings. So she pulled out a spinning wheel enchanted with the essence of emotions to weave more strings for her game.

 

The Vat

Well, had another big epileptic incident today. Had to take the really strong drugs. I wrote today's story with them in my system, so it'll probably be full of typos. I used a concept I made up last week(but didn't write until today) since I couldn't come up with anything else on the drugs.

So yeah, here it is, I hope you enjoy it.

The Vat

        A middle aged mother entered the room holding a silver gun. While she walked through the room she passed rows of people in vats. The people floated in the green fluid inside the vats. They were all in artificial comas, with air masks wrapped tightly around their faces. She went from a walk to a run as she became more nervous around all the vats. After a few minutes of running she stopped at a large, imposing vat. She breathed a gentle breath and held her beating heart.

        “Thank God she's still alive!” the mother said while she looked at her eight year old daughter. Even inside the vat the daughter kept her beautiful brown hair and gentle blue eyes.

         “So, what are you doing?” mumbled a deep voice. The woman turned around to see the imposing figure of the security guard of the facility. Though she could tell from his uniform that he was a military guard. The guard pulled out an old, worn gun. It resembled like an antique, it looked a hundred years older than it actually was.

         “She's coming with me, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!” the mother's hands shook with fear as she raised the gun at the guard.

         “Your government agreed to sell her to us for experimentation. If you take her back, your government will just sell us a replacement.” he looked her sternly in the eyes. “Are you so selfish that you would sacrifice another person's child for your own?” The mother looked at the ground, her eyes filling with tears. Every precious memory of her daughter flew through her head in that single moment.

          “Yes.” she said while a bullet flew from her gun into the guard's heart. She turned her eyes away from the guard to her daughter in the vat. She had already stolen the code to open the vat before she went into the room. After a few short seconds the vat drained and opened, freeing her daughter. The daughter stumbled out of the vat.

          “Mommy, those doctors, they're not nice doctors, they hurt me.” the daughter said with her pupils still shrunken from the drugs in the vat. The mother hugged her close.

          “It's all over. We can go home now, though we'll have leave quickly to make sure the bad doctors don't come for you again.” the mother led her daughter out of the room, making sure not to look at the guard laying cold next to the vat.

Say the Magic Words

Howdy, howdy everyone. Remember that cute girl I talked about in previous posts? We're dating <3. I got the idea for today's story from her love of linguistic studies(she's smart, one of the things that makes her so hot.) so this story is actually inspired by her. I hope everyone likes it!

Say the Magic Words

        A young woman sat in the middle of the library, her eyes digging into an old book. The book was written in a magic language. Over the centuries of its existence it has been called both holy and evil. In some ages it was spoken in churches and others only in the shadows. The magic language could move both mountains and hearts. She knew much of the magic language, she could turns things into both fire and dust using only words. With a chant she could summon angels from above, but with different chant she could summon demons from below. Each word had magic in it. An accent on a vowel could change whether the word swapped souls between bodies or turned night into day.

        She studied the language and knew it better than anything else. The words danced through her dreams and dispelled her nightmares. She spoke more in the magical language than her own native one. She surpassed her mentors and they looked at her with both envy and pride. When she wrote it on paper her hand moved like an artist painting.

        But she read the language so much it became more real than the rooms around her. During the day the clouds looked like the letters of the language. The rain hitting the windows sounded to her like syllables found in the magic language.

        Someone addressed her while she was reading. She looked up at them. She didn't understand what the person was saying. The language she grew up listening to became a strange gibberish to her. She tried to find meaning in the words but she could only understand words in the magical language. After a few minutes the person left with a confused look on their face. The woman felt her tongue, wondering where all the words in her first language went. After a moment her eyes trailed back to the book and she began reading the magic words again.

Playing Chess with My Conscience

I called that cute girl I talked about in my previous blog post and we're actually hanging out and such tomorrow!  (Hi to her specifically, she reads my blog too.) I was busy today so I'll be reposting one of my old stories during my first story-a-day. (The Sky Festival was an old one too.) Its one of the ones I'm pretty proud of, but it was a few years back so it may not be as good as my more recent stories. Also, since its copy and pasted from an old word doc, the formatting will probably be really odd, so sorry!

Playing Chess with My Conscience.

My conscience sat across the table from me, we started to play our game, his pieces black, mine white. He stood so tall, that when he leaned over the table he was still several inches higher than me. His head glistened, without any hair he managed to polished it to a sheen. His factory smoke black skin contrasted with his cloud white suit and silver tie. On his face rested foggy sunglasses rimmed with a rose-red metal. His hands had purple leather gloves and gold studded bracelets.

I sat as short as a tombstone, and my skin as gray as one. My shirt was tattered, the words “Carpe Diem” printed on it, almost invisibly faded. My thin fingers fiddled with nervousness. I had no glasses to call my own, so I squinted, my eyes turning paper-thin.

His pieces had a perfectly smooth shape, as they were made from glass, mine on the other hand, were old gnarled wood. Each turn he wrapped his strong fingers on his pieces, and on my own turns I wrapped my frail fingers around mine. As he made his moves he wore a smug smile with perfect teeth. On my turns I nervously bit my quivering lips.

I was just about to take out one of his pawns when it transformed. It turned into a beggar pleading for change. The beggar cried, his stomach thin and growling from starvation. He had a thin dirt stained sheet wrapped around his body. I had wondered why at the base of his piece had the word “Charity” embossed on the side.

I crushed that moral with one of my own pawns, which had the name “Greed” carved into its side. The beggar became flattened under my piece; his cries were now muffled beneath it.

He took out my greed with a bishop called “Loyalty”. My greed turned into a tower of money, and his bishop my mother. Her side bulged with cancer, a doctor taking my wealth to perform surgery on her, removing her tumor. He had taken my greed off the table with that move.

A few turns later I took out my mother with my rook. A rook called “Bitterness”. Only last turn did my mother remove my name from her will. This is how I managed to take out his bishop, loyalty, with my bitterness.

His knight had the text of the Commandment “Thou shall not steal.” on its side. That piece was very difficult to take out, until my knight, “Jealousy”, transformed into my brother. He had become rich on pure luck in the lottery. After that it became easy to take out his Commandment with my own jealousy.

Now it was mid-game, and the clock just struck midnight. A fog of doubt in the room covered both me and my actions. But I was winning the game, I dominated most of the field, I had a greater number of pieces on the board.

By this point in the game I transformed much like the pieces. For every piece I toppled I became a little taller. Every turn caused my shirt to become less and less tattered, slowly turning into the finest of cloth. My mentality had totally changed, I stop being nervous and became confident, firmly wrapped in my arrogance. Despite the fog I made all my decisions without regret, but each one caused me to flinch a little.
My conscience had completely changed posture, going from leaning on the table, to sitting erect his hand cupping the bottom of his chin while he calculated his moves far more carefully than he had before. Sweat covered his skin like some sort of rash.

No matter what morals he threw at me each turn, I took out the pieces with my own. The laws of society left the table one by one, and every time I became less phased by it. Every turn that passed my decisions started to take less and less time to make. Eventually I no longer needed my chair, and I stood up, filled with an immoral strength. The fog of doubt in the room had fully disappeared, I could see the table perfectly, and I didn’t need to squint any longer. I saw the state of the game, he had one-third the amount of pieces I had. My pieces stood in strategic positions creating a web of traps. His lay scattered almost looking nauseous from their odd positions.

Suddenly my conscience’s current posture changed completely. He stopped being nervous and unsure. He got out of his chair and stood like I did. All his sweat vanished and a cocky smile burst from his face. A muffled laugh forced its way out of his mouth. He made no attempt of bluffing. He clearly had realized something. For the first time in the entire match he spoke to me.

“You’re very skilled.” he said sternly.

“Thank you.” I responded.

“That was not a compliment.” he replied as he sat back down. His eyes started to dance about the field, telling his brain information he needed for his master plan. I moved my rook forward, taking out his last pawn, “Lying” I believe it was. He laughed once again clapping his hands. I didn’t like this, whatever he was planning. At this point in the game I was confident I could outwit my conscience, but I feared whatever trick he had up his sleeve. No matter how hard I tried that smug smile wriggled its way inside me, twisting my guts.

To my surprise he started to move his king stupidly towards my rook. I was now less afraid of his genius plan, and more curious about it. I saw no bluff, as chasing his king wouldn’t lead my pieces into any traps. The king just staggered forward like a drunken man.

I decided I would just end the game and take his king with my rook and knight, checkmate I thought. But I couldn’t end it, I couldn’t move my piece and yell checkmate and proclaim victory over my conscience. Doing that was the only thing standing between me and total dominance over him. I became mute at that moment because that was the first time I ever took a close look at his king. The name written on its side was “Murder.” The piece became my wife. In order to win the game I would have to kill her.

I moved a pawn away from his king uselessly. My conscience then moved his king one more space, then it became my turn again. I just kept running from his king turn after turn. He used its invincibility to trap my other pieces between his own.

I panicked; he had quickly regained control of the board. I now knew for a fact how terrifyingly powerful my conscience was. I was only a few turns away from losing, and I had no plan of victory. He had defeated me; my wife his weapon against me. He knew I could not kill her. Or could I?

I had only a few pieces left, but I did have him in check and one of my most powerful pieces on the board, my queen. By moving her I could win the game. And her name was the most unique on the board; she was named “Hatred.”

I had to think of everything my wife had ever done to me. I ignored the good and focused on the bad. I saw her yelling at me for being late, while just the day before she took too long to cook dinner. I remembered her losing the car keys, spending savings money on clothes and jewelry. And most of all, I brought to my focus the unsigned divorce papers she left on the kitchen counter.

I gathered all those thoughts and used them to make my move. This is how I used my hatred to checkmate and kill my wife; I crushed her under my queen. I had finally defeated my conscience.

He started to laugh again, and not a mumbled one like before, but a full baritone laugh. He then disappeared in steps, his hue fading a shade at a time while he laughed louder and louder. He then exploded into a thousand little sparkles, reflections of the morals I defeated in our game.

Then, as soon as I looked down at the board, I started to regret the whole thing. I felt no pride of victory, only shame. I had taken out all those beautiful glass pieces of his. It seemed almost every turn I destroyed a vital part of my self, as each moral I crushed was actually a scaffolding of my soul. With no morals to support myself I collapsed and became nothing.

By winning the game against my conscience I had actually lost.

The Simple Thief

With my internship and the club I go to the day became long again. So this is why the story is so late(Or early, I've heard from some people that when they subscribe via email they get the posts a day late.) I got the number of a cute girl, so all ended well I guess!

Anyway, onto the day's story:

The Simple Thief

          The thief didn't care for art, artifacts or treasure, no matter how much of it he stole. The only thing he cared about was the money that went from the hands of his clients into his own. He robbed the homes of the rich and museums all the same. Though beyond his greed he was a gentle soul that always said please and thank you. He would smile at everyone and never hurt a living thing. His smile contrasted his sorrowful black skin that blended into the shadows he lurked in. His brown eyes had the shine that matched the full moon.

          He never got a request like this one though. A few years back the king of the magic kingdom of Xalen passed away and his brother took power. Recently though the princess reached the age where she could marry and her husband and her would take the power of the throne. So the current king used a spell to pull all love from the princess so she wouldn't marry. The love became a rain blue crystal that the king hid in a vault deep in the castle. The princess's sister hired the thief to steal back the princess's love so she would have the will to marry.

          Evading all the guards was easy for the practiced thief. The vault itself had been filled with bright red, glowing runes intended to ward off all unwanted magic. He didn't need magic to steal the love, only his light feet and careful fingers.

          The crystallized love laid in a golden cage in the middle of the vault. He could smoke coming off the cage. He had run into this kind of trap before, an enchantment that burnt the hands of anyone as if it was a match to paper. His thick leather gloves protected his hand as he quickly pulled the crystal from the cage. He heard a light rumble and out of the floor of the vault a stone snake emerged. He knew the current king had incredible magic skills, but he didn't expect such a creature.

         The thief had much more intelligence than courage so he ran without looking back at the creature. He dashed in front of the guards instead of avoiding them like he did before. The snake had no heart of its own so it crashed through the guards in the hall. It didn't care that it crushed them into the walls as it weaved through the hall.

         The thief ran up the stairs to the higher floors of the castle, still holding onto the crystallized love. The stone snake had an odd shape so the stairs slowed it down more than the thief. The thief lured the snake to a balcony on one of the upper floors.

         After the snake went onto the large balcony the thief saw that the princess was there too. She stared up at the full moon without any love in her eyes. He called her name, “Annabelle”, and tossed the crystallized love to her. She grabbed it and the crystal broke, her love going back into her heart in a white light. Without a purpose the stone snake's magic vanished and it fell to the ground.

         “Who are you?” asked the princess, still stunned by the emotions running through her.

         “Just a humble thief.” he responded and bowed. “If you ever need my talents come to the town square during a night when the crescent moon hangs in the sky. I'll be waiting.” The thief then left the balcony into the castle to vanish in the corridors.

A Quick Journey

The side effects of that epilepsy medication are FINALLY wearing off. (Even if it stops the big flurries of seizures it can really hit ya hard for a few days.) Now that its wearing off I feel much more inspired to write so I came up with this nice story. I hope you enjoy it.

A Quick Journey

        A young girl in a nice, simple, sunny yellow dress laid on the side of a smooth hill. She held up a small, but elegant, mirror in her hand. Her grandmother used to use it to travel, and before the grandmother passed away she taught the little girl how to travel with the mirror.

        The girl turned the mirror to a specific spot in relation to the sun, like how someone would tune a radio to a certain channel. When she finished the mirror pulled the girl's mind out of her body. The girl's mind then jumped from the mirror into a nearby tree. She felt her mind spreading through every branch and root. She sensed the sun baking her leaves in its warmth. When one of the fruit fell from the tree she felt as if a hair had been plucked from her head.

        She then leaped into a rock in the bank of a nearby river. As the rock the cool water of the river rubbed up against her playfully. She moved next into the river itself. She felt the fish move through her as if something danced down her throat. She transferred her mind into a fish next and could think only of forward, as many fish did. She left the fish when she saw it approaching a hook with tempting bait.

        She pushed her mind into a cloud next. She felt every drop in the cloud as if it was a thought in her head. She fell into a lovely calmness while she drifted along the skyline. She felt tickled as an airplane passed through her. She then felt heavy and angry. She turned black and started raining down lightning and rain. She didn't like making things dark and depressing by making a storm so she jumped between clouds until she reached further north where she was inside a big cloud that sent a light snow to the ground below. When she saw the school beneath her she remembered her big homework assignment due the next day.

        She hurried through the clouds, fish, river water, rock and tree back to her own body. And once her mind settled into its old home she placed the mirror in her pocket. She dashed home because she knew that once she finished her last homework assignment and summer break began her father would bring her to the nearby theme park. She enjoyed the theme park because she could become the balloons, roller coasters and so many more things there. Though school was nice as well, she loved using the mirror to jump into books.

The Soul Servers

I'm still feeling the nasty side effects from my epilepsy medication, (though few seizures today. The medication does not stop all my seizures but prevents massive flurries from happening, which we adverted) So yeah, it impairs my ability to think so it was pretty hard to get this story out of my brain. Though I think you'll enjoy it.

The Soul Servers

        They advertised it as a shortcut to immortality and a means for utopia. They scanned in human brains as bundles of data and into avatars. Some people killed themselves after being uploaded because they believed their body needed to be extinguished for them to properly live in the database. Though most kept their real body and brain alive out of fear. Over the generations fewer and fewer people didn't use it at all.

         People described talking to their avatars like talking to their own souls. Corporations loved the net of human brains. Infinite supplies and undying customers. While democracies debated if scanned people had the right to vote the dictatorships of the world made scanned kneel before them in their virtual spaces. Truly it was an internet of minds. Many called this new internet the Soul Servers.

         Births started happening inside the Soul Servers. Scanned people began cloning themselves. The scanned also took parts of themselves, copied and merged it to make children that didn't even know what it was like to have a real body. As processing power of the computers increased and the storage space as well generations of data minds could propagate. Servers could hold entire worlds with billions of data people in each of them. Individuality of the scanned mattered less and less and the people of the real world started to lose interest in it. After hundreds of years of maintaining it the people of the real world stopped caring about it. They hated paying for it with their tax dollars and several religious movements squashed out the will to upload themselves. The Soul Servers no longer had any use to the people of the real world. They let it rust and its generators run themselves out. The generators had much power in them but the people of the data world could see their fates. They started killing each other and eliminating worlds to conserve on energy. They couldn't contact the outside world and beg for power so they had no choice but to watch their worlds blink away. Eventually all the data disappeared like dust blown off an old desk.