Original World The Hunger Emporium

Started by Sonata September 27th, 2017 7:08 AM
  • 9 replies


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
The Hunger Emporium

The Hunger Emporium as it is called, is a world much like your own. A number of things within the confines of its reality may seem familiar, but none should be taken at face value. Within the emporium exist a great number of people, creatures, and otherworldly beings; all of which exist for any number of reasons but live only for one. Sating their hunger is their one desire, and the only means by which they can continue to exist.

Deep within its darkest of recesses exist a multitude of slumbering deities, tossed aside and forgotten by those who would have at once given them worship. Their anger and hatred muted, if only for a moment in time. No matter how much light may obscure them from your eyes now, they will not be left alone for long. Darkness always has a way of seeping through, wriggling and writhing like a worm in the dirt as it reaches for the surface. Soon soon they shall devour all in their path. All shall be revealed, when the Dreamer witnesses her first light.


The beginning - Preporod
The hunger - Addict
The retrieval - Fortune
The evolution - The Visitor
The longing - The Comet
The evolution: Part 2 - The Magic Man - coming soon
The encumbrance - The Necromancers Wife - coming soon
The hunger: Part 2 - Awakening - coming soon
The deception - The Dark Dreamer - coming soon


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
The Beginning - Preporod (revised)

The day has come already. The time when my entire life from this point on will be established. Im not exactly nervous, more-so just... scared - of, well everything I suppose. Maybe I am nervous. I feel like crying, but no matter how hard I push there are no tears. My mom stayed up all night, baking cakes and other such briberies. Ive never heard of a person bribing Sudbina, but it couldnt hurt, could it?

I shook my head, trying to clear away all the negative thoughts. My friend Carlos had already signed his note months ago. Said it was the easiest thing he ever did. Said wed been building it up all our lives to be some grandiose moment only to realize that its actually not. The Sudbina gives you the paper and runs a few tests. The possibilities appear, and youre given a choice. Apparently, the whole process can take around thirty seconds if you just let things do as they will. Sudbina has a way a will of its own, as unsurprising as that may seem for something thats semi-sentient.

Im still afraid though. The responsibility of sticking with our decisions the maturity that they force onto us Ive only been here for sixteen cycles, why should I really have to decide everything right now? It always used to piss me off, knowing that at some point this day would come and Id be forced into submission just like everyone else. We are powerless in His presence after all Id often dreamed of what I could do, what I could say to buy myself just a little more time. One more cycle - hell, even just a few more days a week would be a godsend. On some wild occasions, Id think about what would happen if I just defied it all. I thought, what if I just brought with me a weapon to the table. Take out all the years of pent up aggression and anxiety on the Sudbina.

It it drove me to tears, more often than Id like to admit. And yet here I stand, or sit rather. Empty handed, waiting patiently for him to come to my door so I can celebrate the rest of my birthday in relative peace. Hours tick by as me and my mother stare at the door, waiting for His call. My mother, wonderful as she is, cant control her excitement. Her baby boy is finally all grown up after all, now were in the final leg of the race and shell be free of me for good. As soon as I sign the note, Ill be shipped off to training for whatever path I choose.

My mother, bless her heart she never gave any thought to herself when she signed her own note. By that time, she was already pregnant with me and my father had long since left the picture. Nobody signs a note for only a few days in the future its just its just not something that you do. Regardless of how you feel about it, you have to accept it. I guess thats part of growing up thinking about it now, even if I wanted to defy Him, even if I wanted to break free of this cycle, I couldnt. My mother would always be there, holding me back. If I didnt sign the note, then she would be forced to re-sign her own forced to take the fall for my my lack of self-confidence this overwhelming feeling of self-loathing...

I guess, thats why Im sitting here now like I am. Waiting patiently. A loyal dog, awaiting its master. More hours tick by. Tick... Tick... A painfully slow whittling away of the day, an uncertain approach of the rest of my life. Nobody truly knows the nature of the Sudbina. It comes when it wants, appraises as it pleases, and negotiates as it sees fit. There is no middle man with Him. Expecting anything different would be pointless. The Sudbina signs notes, for it has none of its own. It is unbound, and so it binds. But for what reason? Is being unbound, really so horrid that youd go out of your way to bind others?

I rap my fingers against the table. My mother gnaws at her nails as she strides back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, checking on the fifteenth pie of the day. The whole house is radiating with the aroma of cinnamon and pineapple. Its nauseating. My head slowly begins to ache as I place it in my palms, resting atop elbows braced lazily against the wood table. I take in a deep breath and sigh, squeezing and rubbing at my temples with both of my ring fingers.

Knock. A light, and quiet sound. Knock, knock knock. A quick, briefly interrupted trio, fluttering against the door. My mother rushes to the entrance, her face bright red and her eyes aglimmer. The door sways softly open on its hinges, as if pressed against by an unseen breeze. The man in the frame is tall, surprisingly so. His face is obscured by the top of the door. He leans his right leg into the room, greeting my mother with a smile and nod before pulling the rest of his lanky body inside. The Sudbina.

A tall, Indian man. Built like a noted weightlifter, the loose fitting suit fooling nobody. His teeth were aligned so perfectly, like a set of marble dominos set within his mouth. A plain looking briefcase was gently set on the table as the Sudbina scratched the back of his head. Two metal clasps unlocked on their own, allowing the container to spring itself open and reveal the mountain of paperwork which the man would have to tackle at a later date.

The Sudbina looked each piece of parchment over individually, a pair of reading glasses set on the tip of his nose, teetering, threatening to drop to the ground with each subtle movement. After several seconds of sifting through paperwork, the man pulled free a single, blank page. The Subdina placed the paper in front of me and pressed his finger against the top of it, causing a number of words to reveal themselves upon its surface. He looked at me, his eyes half-closed and a gentle smile plastered across his face.

Note of Meleanolu Askranaba
This note, issued by the Sudbina of New Langasta shows that the aforementioned is now of age, and as such is required to undergo life-training in his or her selected path. Due to a legacy of _____ , _____ , _____ and _____ ; it has been deemed that the paths of ______ , ______ , and _____ are of open availability. In regards to workload expectancy, the provided sum of _____ Preporod allows for _____ years, _____ months, ______ days, _____ hours, ______ minutes and _____ seconds. Cause of termination shall be, _____.

This was it. His entire life plan, laid out in a handful of words and blank spaces. The Sudbina motioned for my mother to come near, to which she complied almost immediately. Her hair bounced in every which direction, the once golden locks now stained with gray flew all about as she rummaged around the room. After nearly five minutes, she returned to the man with a small booklet which held the total savings of all her accounts. Everything extra she'd ever made, put aside for this day. Every one of her paths, so painstakingly endured and dedicated to ensuring that only the best options were available to me. The Sudbina tossed the booklet into the air a few times, weighing the sum of its contents. His smile broadened slightly, letting loose a sickeningly sweet peppermint smell as he tapped on the page once more.

Note of Meleanolu Askranaba
This note, issued by the Sudbina of New Langasta shows that the aforementioned is now of age, and as such is required to undergo life-training in his or her selected path. Due to a legacy of _____ , _____ , _____ and _____ ; it has been deemed that the paths of ______ , ______ , and _____ are of open availability. In regards to workload expectancy, the provided sum of 4,873.811 Preporod allows for 52 years, 11 months, 24 days, 7 hours, 46 minutes and 12 seconds. Cause of termination shall be, _____.

Tears began to well up in my mother's eyes as she covered her mouth with both of her hands. Fifty-two years. It was a terribly short time... even after all that she'd done to ensure my success... nearly everyone I knew had been able to sign a note for a hundred years, at the very least. Fifty years was... it was just barely a taste. I could feel my own eyes beginning to burn as it all sank in. A single tear rolled down my cheek as the Sudbina titled his head back, allowing his eyes to show from beneath the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he stared us both down and tapped on the page once more.

Note of Meleanolu Askranaba
This note, issued by the Sudbina of New Langasta shows that the aforementioned is now of age, and as such is required to undergo life-training in his or her selected path. Due to a legacy of _____ , _____ , _____ and _____ ; it has been deemed that the paths of ______ , ______ , and _____ are of open availability. In regards to workload expectancy, the provided sum of 4,873.811 Preporod allows for 52 years, 11 months, 24 days, 7 hours, 46 minutes and 12 seconds. Cause of termination shall be, Suicide.

My heart stopped. This was it. The least favorable outcome. With this note, my own mother would outlive me and be forced to bear the shame of knowing that no matter how hard she'd worked, it never amounted to anything. Her own son would take his life. I had no idea what to say or what to do. The Sudbina continued to smile, his gaze slowly rotating between my mother and myself as he pressed the page forward and his head tilted back downwards. The Sudbina pulled a mint from one of his jacket pockets and placed it upon his tongue, pressing the paper forward once more with his index finger as he awaited our acceptance of the terms.

I couldn't bring myself to touch the note. My entire body was frozen, and my saliva had been replaced with cotton. We were all stuck there within that moment, unable to comprehend what was going on while He continued to smile as if this were a joyous occasion. Slowly, my mother walked over to me, her eyes fixed on the floor as she pressed her finger against the paper. She didn't say a word to me. She didn't even look in my direction. This is what her life had led to up until now. She was determined to see it through, regardless of what the outcome was.

Note of Meleanolu Askranaba
This note, issued by the Sudbina of New Langasta shows that the aforementioned is now of age, and as such is required to undergo life-training in his or her selected path. Due to a legacy of Miners , Catfish , Dogs and Savages ; it has been deemed that the paths of Fisherman , Sea Slug , and Savage are of open availability. In regards to workload expectancy, the provided sum of 4,873.811 Preporod allows for 52 years, 11 months, 24 days, 7 hours, 46 minutes and 12 seconds. Cause of termination shall be, Suicide.

All the paths presented were just slightly above the bottom-most layer of those available to the Polubog. Preporod were meant to further our existence, yet the unlucky few were cursed to scavenge the lowest tiers of life in order to survive. There was always the chance that your next Preporod would allow for advancement, but in order to truly advance you needed to accumulate hundreds of years... with my measly expectancy, it would take me hundreds of thousands of Preporod in order to climb the ranks. As a Polubog, I was doomed. My entire existence in this world, a running joke to the Sudbina and others like Him. At that moment, I knew that I had to rebel. Regardless of my mother, regardless of myself. I had to break my cycle. My rebirth would not be coming, nor my redeath.

I loved my mother. I knew she would be burdened further by the sudden loss and immediate termination of her own note... but she could start a new Preporod. She wasn't cursed as I was. Her Preporod was always on the rise, no matter what path she chose. Without me in the picture, she could even use her savings to rocket through the ranks. I on the other hand, would never be so lucky. My only choice was to break free, to ensure I never had a Preporod to set me on the scheme-ful rails of the Sudbina. I rose from the table without saying a word and made my way into the kitchen. I picked a knife from one of the numerous display cases. The item was coated in long since dried blood, a memento from my mothers first Preporod. A sacrificial blade to start her cycle, and one to end mine before it began. I took the item in both hands and plunged it into my chest, quickly falling to the floor in pain.

My Preporod had been avoided. The cycle of Preporod would never come for me. Polubog or no, a relic such as the one now in my chest could break any spell. And yet, the Sudbina's smile ceased to fade. My mother hovered over me as the light began to fade from my eyes. Her graying locks dangled over my face as she shoved a single finger into my wound, drawing more of my blood and coating her fingers with it. She strode over to the note. Confident and sorrowful. Her face was white as snow, completely devoid of color. Slowly, her head turned to face me. My mother watched as the blood poured from my open wound, and I stared back - completely helpless. In but a few seconds, she had signed the note in my stead, thus safely sealing my ticket into Preporod.

Everything around me faded into a dark grey until only I and He remained. The Sudbina slowly rose from his seat, shuffling my note in with all of the others as he continued to smile. His eyes were empty, yellow, and devoid of any emotion. The Sudbina straightened suit jacket and then walked over to me. The smile on his face only widened as he placed his hand over my eyes, completing my transfer from this now grey world into one of complete and eternal darkness.

An eternity seemed to pass in that darkened realm, until eventually I awoke once more in a world completely different from my own. A woman looked down on me with a smile upon her face. Her cheeks were flushed red as she spoke to me words that I could not understand. A man pressed his face against hers, and then their lips connected as their eyes closed. Men in blue uniforms held me up and cut something from my stomach where the relic had been. A sterile smell overtook me as my face was pressed against the woman's breast. Slowly, I lost all control of myself and began to suck at her teat. A constant beep, like that of a heartbeat droned on beside me as more and more people filled the room, all with faces that seemed to radiate happiness. This was the start of my cycle. A Polubog's Preporod. A right - a gift, available to and forced upon a select few. My first Preporod A demigod's first rebirth.


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
The Hunger - Addict (revised)

"Hello, my name is Joe and I'm an addict. Hello, my name is Joe! I'm an addict. Hello, my name is..."

The man stopped outside of the gymnasium. The sun had already begun to set, and the sign on the wall showed that the meeting had already started an hour ago. Joe was running late, and the nervousness was eating away at him. If he hadn't had to stop at the market for that loaf of bread, then everything would have been fine. The man walked into the building, his palms sweating and his forehead beading as he grabbed one of the numerous chairs that were stacked along a small folding table with a greeting card and cookies set atop it.

A generic smiling face had been enlarged to take up the majority of the page without any thought as to how it presented the group.
A Place For Sharing. A Place For Confidance. All Addictions Welcome.

Joe gripped tightly the edge of the seat's back as he walked into the gymnasium, his footsteps echoing on the linoleum floor. In the center of the basketball court sat a circle of men and women of varying ethnicity, and in the center of them all sat a white male who seemed to be in his late fifties. The elderly man spun around in his rolling chair to face Joe as he approached, breaking up the story that one of the attendees was in the process of telling.

"Welcome! You're just in time. Joe, I presume? Your brother told me all about you. I can't wait for you to join us." The elderly man's teeth were brown and his gums were recessed and slightly black. He held a styrofoam cup in his left hand and a packet of chew in his right.

Joe nodded his head slightly, not quite committed to the whole thing yet. The circle broke apart slowly as all the other members of the group shifted their seats slightly to provide room for the new arrival.

"It's alright Joseph, no need to be shy. We're all friends here." The elderly man swung his arms out slowly, letting the weight of his right arm carry him as the chair spun around. "Now that you've arrived, we'll let Markus finish his story and then we'll move on to Margaret before turning it over to you, Joe."


The man took his seat, putting the newly bought loaf of bread on his lap. Joe started twiddling his thumbs and flipping through each and every piece of the bread nervously as he listened to story after story from the two people set before him. Markus was an un-salvageable mess, addicted to a number of things but mainly alcohol and women. His life had been falling apart around him for years, and he'd been coming to these sessions for well over five already. He'd lost his wife, his three kids, two of his lovers and another fiance all since he'd started coming to the sessions under the request of his now ex-wife. He seemed to be the type of man who was holding on to life by a thin thread, living day to day and hoping that nothing more happens.

His story today seemed to be about a recent call to the police by one of his neighbors. Apparently, Markus had been out drinking until three in the morning and had already been escorted home by an officer who happened to be a friend of his from high school. But after he got into his house, he'd somehow coerced his old friend to sit down for a drink with him which quickly turned into a competition of who could down the most shots of Goldschlger. The cop won, but not before Markus had managed to slip away the man's taser and run off into the night yelling about something he couldn't even recall, all while the officer was slowly rolling along beside him in his service vehicle. As Markus recalled the story, a smile spread across his lips and he burst into a fit of giggles as he began to ramble off into an incoherent mumble, calling his friend a number of unpleasant names each followed by its own individual and unique laugh.

Margaret on the other hand, was completely the opposite of Markus. All the while he'd been telling his stories, she'd been clenching her fists, the vein in her neck growing dangerously large as her eyes widened. Turns out, Margaret had had a number of run-ins with the law herself, some of which did include the very officer which Markus had just been talking about. The woman said that she had fits of uncontrollable rage caused by the slightest of things. She loved to hit people; loved to see them bleed. Margaret had once been a schoolteacher, but after beating one of her students she was let go to pursue other careers. She'd taken up the title of babysitter and lowered her rates to extremely low points in order to draw in only the poorest of parents whose kids she would then abuse for the smallest of things on a daily basis. It was sickening to hear about all the things that she'd done and how happy she looked while talking about it.

"Now Margaret," the old man slowly started in, spitting a large globule of dark liquid into his cup before licking his lips, "you've not done any of that recently have you? We talked about this, remember? One more slip up, and I won't be able to keep the officers away from you. It doesn't matter if any of the parents say it's alright for you to do the things that you do, because you know it's not right. We know it's not right, and the police know it's not right. That's why they took your neighbor's side, even though the parents of the kids you watch didn't seem to care."

The smile quickly ran away from her face as she grit her teeth. "You know I ain't done nuthin' Herb. I been bein' good 'round them kids here lately. Been lis'nin to ya. Takin' what'cha say to heart." She nodded, abruptly cutting off her own words as she folded her arms across her chest. "Move on over to the new guy. I'm sure we're all just itchin' to hear what he has to say." Herb's gaze lingered on Margaret, causing her to shift uneasily. Her eyes kept drifting, meeting with his before she whipped her head back to the side, facing Joe.

"Alrighty then," Herb began, putting another piece of tobacco into his lip, "go on with what you have to say. Let everyone know why it is that you're here."

Joe nodded and swallowed several times as he tried to gather his words. "Hi, my name's Joe and I'm an addict." Everyone in the circle nodded, and Herbert motioned for him to continue. "I- I... I'm addicted to eating. You might not be able to tell since if I lifted this shirt, all you'd see is bones, but it's true. I can't control myself. I can't even make the decision what or when I want to eat, I just do. Sometimes it's in the middle of the night, other times it's while I'm in the bathroom at work. All I know, is that when the hunger comes, I've got to have it."

Herb cleared his throat as he straightened himself up in his chair. "And uh, what is it Joe, that you have to have when you feel this hunger?"

"It's..." he paused, looking around the room. "It's bread. It's always bread. Exactly two slices, but what's in between doesn't matter. Whatever's close does the trick. I've poured scalding hot coffee on the bread before, shoving it down my throat as it caused boils on both my hands and my mouth. I've eaten silverware, clothes, bed sheets and pillows, even electronics at times. I've no real idea just how many times I've had to eat my phone in order to make the hunger go away."

"And what happens Joe, if the hunger isn't fulfilled? What happens if you don't happen to have some bread or something to shove in it?"

"I, I don't know. I've never let it go that far." The man started clenching his fists around the loaf in his lap. "Every time I feel the hunger, I just know. I know that I have to have it, there's no other way around it. It's as if something inside me is trying to claw its way through my stomach, just so it can get its hands on more bread. It's weird, I know. But... I can't explain it properly."

"When was the last time you ate, Joe? Was it today? Yesterday?"

"It was yesterday. I went through the whole day without feeling the hunger, but then as I was laying in bed it hit me. I pulled the loaf out of my dresser drawer and shoved my Rolex into it. I've gotten used to it recently, so I've been bringing two pieces of bread with me everywhere I go, lest I make a scene by unexpectedly rushing out from wherever I am just to get my hands on some. Today though... I forgot. I was lucky though. I made it through the entire day without an incident. After I got off of work though I had to buy a loaf. Just to be sure, you see?"

"So then, you've not eaten today? Do you think your hunger might arise while you're in this meeting?"

"I... I don't know. But if it does, I'll be ready." Joe started to slowly tear away at the plastic packaging of the loaf of bread, and then move on to the bread itself. Piece by piece, he tore away chunks of each slice of bread.

"I know it's only your first day, and we want you to feel welcome. But what would you think if I took the bread from you? Just until this session is over?"

"I... I think that would be a very bad idea."

"You don't trust us? You don't trust me? You need to get help Joseph, that's why your brother referred you to me. If you don't let us help you, how will you ever get better?"

"I know, I know... It's just, I don't think I'm quite ready for that step yet. I trust you, but..." Joe stared at his lap, his eyes widening as he realized what he'd been doing the entire time he was talking. The new loaf of bread that he'd only just bought had now been reduced down to a measly four slices. The packaging, zip tie, and every other piece had been torn apart and tossed haphazardly around him, forming a messy circle around his seat.

"If you trust us, then let us have the bread. You've got to let go of it if you want to be released from the hunger's possession."

Joe shook his head violently, digging his thumbs into the last few pieces of bread as he wondered just what might happen if he failed to sate the hunger. His stomach began to rumble as he quickly pulled a ziplock bag from his pocket and shoved the last pieces into it before clenching his eyes shut. Several minutes passed with everyone in the circle giving the man words of encouragement as well as belittlement. Most of the people in attendance just wanted to get the meeting over with at this point, especially since Joe had already come in so late. After several more minutes of encouraging, Joe's head slowly rose until his eyes met with Herb's. His head continued to shake vigorously, but was met with a stern, dissatisfied look from the elderly man.

"Joe, it's only bread. If you feel the hunger, then we'll let you have a few cookies. If that doesn't help, then I'll certainly let you have the bread back. Is that alright with you?"

"I..." Joe closed his eyes and bit his lower lip as he loosened his grip around the remainder of the loaf, sealed tight and safe within its new plastic confine. "I suppose I could... just for a little while..."

Joseph held the baggie by the corners as he swung it slowly, back and forth. The bread swayed towards Herbert as he sat up, holding out his hand.

"Take the bread out of the baggie and let me have it."

"Why does it have to come out?" Joe swallowed hard as he took a step back.

"In your mind, the baggie acts like a barrier doesn't it? If the bread isn't right out in front of you, you might not feel the hunger, is that what you're thinking?" The man shook his head. "It's just a plastic bag. There's no magic to it, or to your hunger. You've got a problem Joseph, and in order to confront and remedy that problem, you need to face it head on. You need to be strong. And despite whatever it is you might think about yourself, you are indeed strong."

Joe dropped his left hand from the bag and began to scratch at his bared chest, staring at the bag still dangling from between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "I... I... I..." Joe bit his lip and grimaced, pulling his left hand back up to the pouch as he peeled it open. A stale aroma wafted up into his nose as he closed his eyes, placing the slices into each of Herbert's hands.

Hear me. A whisper. Feast. Fulfill your hunger.

"I'm not hungry."

Herbert flipped the pieces of bread between his hands as he looked up lazily at Joe, his legs wobbling as he went to sit back down. "What was that?"

Feast. Feast. Feast on the grain. Feast on the land. Feast on man. Feast on the dust and the dirt.

"I said I'm not hungry. Leave me alone." Joe's eyes were still closed, visions of bread flashed through his mind as he bit down harder onto his lip, drawing a small amount of blood.

Feast. Feast and become whole. Feast for the God who created you. Feast for the Devil who burdened you. Feast. Feast for you to become whole. Feast for you to become original. Feast, for as to come to the beginning.

It was only now that he recognized that the voice had been playing through his mind the entire time that he'd been in the meeting. He'd been able to drown it out so far with the stories of the various other individuals, but now that the room was silent and the loaf was gone, it was apparent. The words finally took effect as Joe's eyes shot open. Bloodshot and wild. His pupils were enlarged to the point of nearly consuming his irises. In an instant, he had come to top Herbert. The elderly man's hand was trapped between the two pieces of bread as Joe opened his mouth, splitting it at the corners. In the blink of an eye, he had torn through half of the bread and completely removed the hand, and a portion of the forearm of the elderly man. The bread slowly slid back from the gushing wound, the man's blood causing it to grow soggy as it reached Herb's elbow.

"Feast. Feast. Feast." Joe droned on in between bites. The whisper had disappeared from his ear as the hunger overtook him.

"Holy muk! What in the psyduck!" Markus shouted as he and the others in attendance all shot up from their seats, knocking them to the ground as they turned halfway towards the door, not able to look away from the scene.

"Join in the feast, and become whole my brothers. Join in the feast, and become the original my sisters. Join in the feast. Feast. Feast."

Three of the members of the group had already made it to and through the door by the time Joe began to speak again. The others, however, were too shocked by what they'd just witnessed to move any faster than a slow walk as they continued to look on in a mixture of horror and intrigue.

"Join in the feast. Feast. Feast. Feast on the flesh, feast on the land. Feast for the God who created us, and the Devil who burdened us. Feast, feast with me. Feast with the original, and become original yourselves."

Slowly, the rest of the group who had remained behind made their way towards the elderly man who writhed in pain on the floor, helpless as he tried to push away from his attacker but to no avail. The pool of blood beneath Herbert continued to expand as Markus, Margaret and a number of others formed a close circle around Herb.

"Feast and feast," a gentle voice came from the entrance to the gymnasium, slightly louder than a whisper. "Thirst for knowledge and thirst for power. Quench them with the feast. Feast for God, feast for the Devil. Feast for yourself, the creation of both. Feast for ascendance, and feast for deliverance. Feast for the fall, for all who feast shall. Feast on, feast on. Feast on my friend, my brother and my sister. Feast on the feast-less, and feast on, for them."


Dani California
Seen 22 Hours Ago
Posted 1 Week Ago
6,102 posts
15 Years
Oh, so I think I read Preporod before, but I haven't gotten the chance to comment on it oops. I admit, the first read through was confusing but I think I get it now. It's mostly about the narrator trying to defy the Sudbina's future insight if you want to call it that. The way the exact moment when the narrator dies reminds me of those death clock websites that predict those kind of things lol. Looks like though after he committed suicide he was reincarnated.

Now Hunger, I remember reading this and commenting how things went gruesome fast haha. I think me and another person mentioning there should be more details during Herb and Joe's conversation, and I noticed you put more Joe's body language there, so good work on that. I do think you can also have Joe notice some of Herb's body language and voice though.

I do wonder how your stories will be connected here, so I look forward to that!
Miles Edgeworth
Foul Play [On Hiatus]


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
The Retrieval - Fortune (revised)

How did things end up this way? I never thought that this would be the way that it all played out, and certainly not this early on. Hell, I guess it kind of makes sense... in a clichd, ironic sort of way. In these final moments I'm left feeling conflicted. Should I laugh at my fate, having believed that... no. I don't actually think I know how to feel about this. I'm not exactly upset, nor am I excited - which gives me a small amount of closure, if that's the word I should be using. At least now I know I'm not just suicidal. I've gone through life just kind of flying at half-mast, not expecting anything but not really not expecting anything either. There were times that I overcompensated, or over-planned for things thinking ahead for the worst scenarios. But most times, I just kind of let what would come. Had I stuck to that then maybe I wouldn't be in this predicament.

Let's... let's just start it from the top... It was just another Saturday night. I'd decided to go out to Wonton King - the Chinese buffet of my particular favor - to avoid staying pent-up in the apartment alone for another night. I couldn't stand to continue eating old frozen dinners, or bowls of that bland and boring chicken noodle soup. Admittedly, it had been years since I'd had any kind of stable relationship, and I barely had any friends to begin with let alone any that lived in the same state as me. Basically, it all culminated into me never shopping in expectation of having company. The house was obviously a mess, and by now I suppose I've just given up on it altogether. Any other day the lone armchair positioned not three feet from the flat screen in front of it, surrounded by empty cans of energy drinks, store brand soda and cheap beer would seem, well, not exactly inviting... but an acceptable enough place at least for me to take care of business for the night before I headed for the bedroom. However, about a year ago I had decided that Saturdays would be a treat day for myself. I cut back on drinking as many energy drinks, and buckled down on forcing myself to only buy store brand sodas all in preparations for that one day a week where I would go out to eat after work.

At the start of it when I was going out on Saturdays I thought I might try and be adventurous, you know, try out some places I'd never been to around the town or head towards the city and see about meeting some new people or something. Y'know, just get outside for more than a simple work commute... get some fresh air in my lungs if you catch my drift. That all lasted about as long as my agreement to myself that I'd clean the apartment every Sunday. I think I went to three or four different local restaurants and then just settled in to going to Wonton King every week. The people there were nice, and after I became a 'regular' for them on Saturdays, they started to give me discounts... needless to say; that was pretty neat.

Now, forgive me for rambling a bit here, but I really want to give you the low-down on this place... just in case you ever happen to make it out here. See, Wonton King is one of those places that has the buffet half of the restaurant but also a so-called, 'finer dining' experience as well; if you could call it that. It has four of those Hibachi grills where they make the food in front of you and then they also have a couple dozen booths and tables. All in all it's a pretty big place and they get some pretty decent business from what I've seen of the weekend dinner rush. It used to be that there were times they'd be so filled up that they'd end up turning me away since I didn't have a reservation. But after going in there a few more times, they got to know and expect my attendance and would usually set up a personal table for me; all this since they knew I didn't exactly care for the social situations that the hibachi pressured you into, and that I didn't take up a whole booth or table myself.

On the outside looking in, you might think it was kind of rude of them to seclude me like that from everyone else. But to you I say phooey. I couldn't have been happier. They set me up nice and close to the buffet and also right next to the kitchen window. The buffet area had a kind of weird setup, not like any that I had seen before but I'll not waste your time with the details. Suffice to say, the spot that they had given to me was prime real estate and nobody else got to enjoy it the way that I did. If there was something special I wanted to eat, all I had to do was call it back and they'd have it out on the buffet in an instant. It was a real good deal, but this is where we start getting caught up on my current predicament.

As I said, it was just another Saturday at Wonton King. I'd gotten there around six or so in the afternoon, which was a pretty regular time for me. It wasn't too late, nor too early. Going at that time meant that I wouldn't go home and get reflex from having just eaten before slipping into my bathrobe, and I also wouldn't be sitting around for hours mindlessly wondering about what to do with the rest of the night. The hostess nodded her head at me as I entered and immediately went back to get me my Dr. Pepper. Which - if you'll pardon the sudden outburst - I must say, there are many things that are acceptable in generic store brand sodas, but they can never come close to the real deal when it comes to Dr. P.. To be honest, I'm pretty sure part of the reason that I decided to settle for this place comes from their selection of soda, since almost every other place around me sells Pepsi. Blegh. Anyways, I'm sorry I keep rambling... time i of the essence after all... Let's continue, shall we? So, the hostess left to get my drink, and I headed to the buffet to survey the scene before I went to my seat. I usually do this so that if there's anything that doesn't look too fresh or if there's something they don't have out that particular night I can go ahead and request it once I get to my chair. While I'm up, I go ahead and make myself an assorted plate of my normal 'appetizers'. A bed of those thin, clear, noodles, a hefty helping of General Tso's chicken, a dozen or so of those chicken-on-a-sticks, beef and mushrooms and then some chicken and broccoli with extra broccoli.

By the time I get to my seat, my drink is already there and one of the cooks has his head hanging out the window, his mouth agape and his ear directed towards me as he awaits whatever request I may have if any. I smile at the man and then take my seat, undoing the button on my pants as I do so, hoping to get the most out of my meal. I wave away the cook, content with the night's selection and knowing that by the time I finish this plate there'll be a fresher selection of everything that I hadn't already nabbed. The cook smiles and nods his head, his eyes seemingly squinting into nonexistence as he does. The wrinkles around his mouth show his age as he pulls his head back into the window and disappears into the kitchen not to be seen again until next Saturday; if there was a next Saturday, I suppose I should say. Perhaps their fate would be different from mine, but it's doubtful.

Moving on once more, the meal was great. I had three more plates all filled roughly the same as my first two throughout the next hour. By the end of it all I was laying there leaned back in my chair, the front legs of it tipped off the ground with my feet on the table as I let my ever-growing stomach hang out from the bottom of my shirt. I wasn't always so fat, but years of being more or less alone will do that to you. I should feel disgusted with myself, having grown up in a home where I'd have been smacked right across the head for leaning back in my chair, regardless of where my feet were. But the employees didn't seem to care. This place was like paradise to me. And of course, the best part was always desert. The hostess would always bring a handful or two of the fortune cookies that they made and wrapped themselves in this weird green paper... probably something eco-friendly since that seems to be all that anyone talks about at work anymore. Eco-friendly this, love the environment that. Nonsense I say. Regardless, in the end, I didn't really know what it was, but the way they tied it up at the top with a little bow was kind of cute so I didn't question it. It was a good laugh reading the fortunes every so often. Heck, sometimes I even went out and used the lucky numbers on the back to try my hand at the lotto. Of course it never worked out, though. I don't even really know what I'd do if I hit it big to be honest. My parents played the lotto every week for as long as I can remember and I guess it's just a habit that I ended up inheriting.

This is where things start to get weird though. Remember how I said that they make the fortunes and cookies themselves right? Well, as per usual the hostess brought out my handfuls of cookies and I thanked her with a smile as I started to crack one open. And while usually they're the regular cookie-cutter fortunes that you might find anywhere else like 'Love is for the lucky and brave', or 'Happiness is an inside job' or whatever else, these ones were definitely different. At first I thought someone in the back was playing a prank. When the hostess dropped the cookies off at my seat, she didn't return my smile as she usually did. Instead there was actually a look of worry upon her face, and her eyes refused to meet mine. And instead of returning to her spot in the front of the store after helping me, she went into the kitchen. It was odd, but nothing too worrying. But after she left and I began to read my fortune, I started to wonder.

'Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return.'

I scoffed at the fortune as I ate the cookie, spewing little bits of it across the table as I did so. A joke, or so I thought. I rummaged through the pile as I finished off my first cookie. I grabbed another that was at the edge of the table and cracked it open, tossing one half of it into my mouth as I read the fortune in this one.

'Are you suicidal, or just dumb? I said to leave the city immediately.'

I choked on the crumbs of the cookies in my mouth as I read the fortune. A joke can only go so far. I was taken aback first at the piece of paper, tossing the other half of the cookie into my mouth before rising from my seat. With my brow furrowed, and the angriest face I could muster, I looked into the kitchen window first. After finding that it was completely empty save for the numerous dirty dishes and pans filled with food that was continuing to cook, I quickly surveyed the rest of the store seeing that all of the other guests had left as well. The store being empty at this time of night was definitely out of the norm and in turn actually put me off. Instead of sitting and eating the cookies as I normally did, I rounded them up into a small bag which hung from the kitchen window for the to-go orders to be put in and made my way to the desk where the hostess should have been standing. I called out for anyone who might be working to come and let me pay my bill, but after another minute or two of waiting with no response I just laid out my money on the desk and left with another handful of the cookies.

As I made my way outside I began to open another fortune, this time tossing the entire cookie into my mouth. I still had no idea what was going on, but it was beginning to become harder and harder to believe that this was just some prank. Especially after this cookie. Not only had I shuffled them all around before tossing them into the bag, but before grabbing one I also had shuffled through searching for the one that felt 'right' to take. There was really no way that I could think of to make fortunes be this specific and coherent with what I was doing, and the added effect of me having shuffled them around only made it more apparent that something else was going on here.

'Glad you decided to get your fat ass up at last. Don't go home, there's no time for it. They'll be waiting.'

I wondered who would be waiting, and as I crunched down on the cookie already in my mouth, I retrieved another and slowly unfurled the green wrapper and crushed it in my hand, pouring the crumbs and dust into my mouth before reading the next fortune.

'Does it really matter who they are? Just know that you don't need to go home. Things are replaceable, but what about your life?'

I supposed it was right, but for the life of me I still couldn't think of anyone who would have any reason to come after me. I mostly kept to myself and as far as I knew I hadn't been rude to or ignored anyone lately. My office was small, only having four other people working there including my boss. And I hardly went anywhere except for that buffet and the convenience store right down the street, so I was just drawing a blank all around. As I pondered, I absent mindedly opened up another fortune and stuffed the cookie into my mouth before looking down out of habit.

'Jesus Christ man, stop wasting time and eating cookies. You need to move. I know it's not your forte, but try and sweat a little or what I'm doing will have all been a waste.'

I huffed and let out a small snort. This was definitely not the way I saw my day going. Getting called out on my weight and overall inactivity by a fortune cookie of all things. It was only after I read this fortune that I really took notice of my surroundings. Just when I had started to pick up the pace into a rather sluggish speed walk, I noticed that there was nobody else on the streets at the moment. This of course, was also quite odd and against the norm. Hell, even at the 'dead' hours of the day and night there was at least two or three cars parked on the streets and sometimes even people walking or driving around - at the very least a taxi or police officer would be doing their rounds. But there was nothing and nobody. No life as far as I could see at least. I heard the echoes of a motorcycle revving its engine, but that was about it. I felt around in the bag as I searched for another cookie to eat, but then dropped it back into the bag as I wiped the sweat beading at my forehead.

I decided to take a shortcut tonight. Judging from these mysterious cookies along with the unsettling emptiness of the city, I thought it might be best not to take the long route and follow the streets. Instead, I took to the alleyways. I cut through a series of apartments before opening their gate to face the complex that I personally lived in. It seemed normal enough at the time. There were no strange cars outside the entrance, in fact, there were no cars at all around the building or anywhere else on this street for that matter. Which in retrospect, probably wasn't all that normal but I mean, this night was already weird enough for me so I didn't really think about it. I reached into the to-go bag wrapped around my wrist and pulled out another cookie, readying myself to fight that first flight of stairs.

'I told you not to go back. There's a time and place for everything, but not here and not now. You must leave. Get your muk back later.'

It would have only taken a minute to grab my keys, which is truly the only thing of value that I had in my apartment. I hardly ever drove the thing so it was sure to be full of gas. These little slips of paper might know what was going on outside and around the town, but surely it didn't know my train of thought for this matter. If whoever or whatever was behind this wanted me to get out of town quickly, I was definitely going to need a car. I doubt I'd even be able to make it half a mile without passing out with the shape I'm in now. I had completely glossed over the fact that the cookies had somehow been privy to my thoughts earlier, but after making it to the top of the first flight of stairs I knew I had officially psyducked up. I immediately began to rethink my actions and put more stock into the fortunes.

Every room on this level had their doors hanging wide open. Clothes, picture frames and furniture were laying outside each door and were strewn across the walls, the floor, and the ceiling throughout the halls in all directions. I reached into the bag , pulling another cookie out as I arched my neck to get a better view, hoping to see anyone at all. I needed to know what was going on, and these cookies weren't giving me any real information aside from letting me know I needed to leave. I unwrapped the cookie and popped it in my mouth as I read its fortune.

'You don't need a car. I told you to leave and not to go home. You do-'

I didn't read the rest. I was tired of it telling me what to do already. I knew I needed that car if I was going to get away from whatever all this was, and it wasn't going to convince me otherwise. I just had to see for myself, and I wish that wasn't the case. I started up the second flight of stairs to where my apartment was located, and after I got to the halfway point I began to hear noises. The sound of doors opening, metal scraping against metal, footsteps and whimpering. I was already huffing and puffing from having climbed those stairs that I thankfully didn't have the energy to call out and ask if anyone was in trouble or okay or anything. However, I am just tall enough that my eyes could see what was going on on the floor beyond the railings.

Three of the four hallways had already been cleared out like the floor below. Doors were thrown open, clothes and everything else were strewn across the halls and all was silent except for the hall to my right. As I turned to look, the bag which was on my wrist ripped open and the cookies all fell from it. Whispering a curse to myself, I reached down and grabbed one of the fortunes which had come unraveled in the fall.


Run? Why would I run when I hadn't even gotten to my room yet? I'd already made it this far, what was to keep me from going the rest of the way. But after gathering up a handful of the cookies and standing, I saw the reason why I should have never come here. There in the hallway, throwing open the doors to the rooms were seven figures clad in dark grey robes. Each held a knife in their hand, and all were hovering over the residents of the rooms which they had searched. With a point of the finger, a door at the end of the hall was flung open and a family of six were pulled from it floating through the air as if they were completely weightless. A mother, father, three teenage girls and a baby - none of whom I'd ever had any real interaction with... I never really interacted with any of my neighbors, but the sight was frightening regardless. The family was too far away for me to see their facial expressions, but I could almost feel their fear. The father was facing in my direction, holding his hand towards me after having presumably seen the top of my head from between the cylindrical rails of the stairs.

I thought to go and help them, but that thought immediately passed from my mind as one of the figures grabbed the baby from the air and pulled it down to them. The figure gingerly wrapped one arm around the baby's bottom and placed the other on top before pressing it against its chest. For a second there was a scream, the child crying as it was forced against the figure's chest. But just as soon as it had started, it was finished. The baby had been wrapped in a light blue blanket, and when the figure dropped its arms to its sides, the blanket was all that fell to the ground. Three of the figures approached the three girls and pressed their knives into the girls' stomachs, causing them to slowly turn transparent and disappear..

The parents weren't screaming, and I couldn't tell why which only caused me to grow more curious. Ever since they'd been pulled through the air from their room they hadn't moved a muscle or even made a sound, save for the baby when it was being held. The entire scene made me sick to my stomach, far worse than any movie or bloody video I'd ever seen before. I can't really describe it, but it wasn't that I felt like vomiting or that I felt nausea or anything. It was just... a really intense feeling of unease that started in my chest as the baby had disappeared and ran through my body as the three girls had started to disappear. Finally, when the parents fell to the ground and began to scream out in agony at their loss, the feeling hit me in the head and one word echoed out.


The crumbled paper in my hand gave off a burning sensation as the word rang out through my head. I hadn't picked up all of the cookies yet, even though I knew that they were the only thing that were going to keep me alive now. Getting out of here before they found me was more important than having another handful of them. The bag around my wrist was already ripped, and I knew that if I kept trying to hold on to it it would only make more noise and draw these figures' attention. I stuffed the cookies into my pockets and started to quietly remove the bag from my wrist, watching the figures as I did - not wanting them to catch me off guard if I ended up making too much noise. Surprisingly, the whole thing went quite smoothly. I laid the bag down on the ground and shoved a few more cookies from it into my pockets without smashing them and started to turn towards the stairs. That's where the mistake was made. If it weren't for my fat gut... maybe I should have taken the time to pick up all the cookies, I don't know. All that matters, is that the second I took my first step I had just all but set my fate.

My foot landed on one of the crunchy sweets, crushing it in an instant and in doing so caused a piercingly loud screech to echo through the quickly quieting hall. The figures had been going down the line, shoving their blades into the remaining residents as they finished the searches of their respective rooms. But when that cookie crunched, their heads all snapped in my direction. Glowing emerald eyes glittered through sunken, ashy faces. When they saw me, their mouths split open to reveal several sets of razor-sharp and yellowed teeth. A black smoke trailed from their lips as they breathed, taking their first steps towards me in unison. I don't think I'd ever move so fast in my life again.

I turned to run down the stairs, the fear for my life pumping adrenaline through my body in conjunction with my obesity caused my heart to feel like it was going to jump from my chest. If I'd had time to look down, I'm sure that through my bouncing breasts I'd have been able to see my chest flaring out with each rapid beat. After the first flight of stairs I was already completely winded, but this was one time where I knew I didn't have time to stop and catch my breath at the end of it. Usually I'd leave the house an hour or two early so I could take my time with these things, knowing that it was a real labor on my body; but I pushed through and I persevered. Even after I slipped on the second flight of stairs and fell on my face after only having made it halfway down them, I managed to roll my way to the other side and get down those ones surprisingly much quicker, though much more painfully.

I made a not so graceful rolling dismount - meaning after I had rolled down all the stairs I managed to get lucky and landed in a way that the handrail was within reach and my feet were below me. I lifted myself up and hobbled out the front door. Everything in my body hurt now after rolling down all those stairs, but at least I'd escaped those things for the time being. I ran into an alley that was across the street and kept moving. A loud screeching sound followed the sound of the doors to the complex flying open. I'd no idea what those things were, but now that I'd seen them and what they could do to people, I really didn't want to stick around to find out.

A few feet ahead there was a turn to another alley which I ended up taking, not wanting to get stuck in a never-ending hallway with one or two of those things. I looked around the corner just in time to see a blur of black fly by the entrance to the alley. There was at least six or seven that had come out of just that building, and God knows if there were more in other buildings or if that was it. Another loud screech echoed through the city as the things searched for me. I leaned my back against the wall behind me and slid to the ground, gripping at my chest as I attempted to calm myself down. That was much more exercise than I had hoped to get in the next year.

My sight started to go black as I relaxed, my eyelids growing heavy as my breathing slowed. I was completely worn out from that short burst of activity that I was barely staying awake now, and it really didn't help that I'd only finished eating a rather large meal only a short while ago. I started to breathe through my nose, gathering spit in the back of my throat so that I could swallow the metallic taste that lingered there. I opened my eyes back up and decided to take another look up and down the alley, hoping that I wouldn't see one of those things coming down it; which I didn't but I did see someone else.

The man from earlier, the father, was running towards me at full speed. His arms were filled with something... I couldn't tell from where I was but as he grew closer I recognized them; the cookies. He'd gathered up all of the fortune cookies and was running straight for where I was. I didn't understand, and when he arrived he didn't explain. He dropped all of the cookies onto my head and grabbed up two, waving them at my face before turning around and going back down the way he came towards the wife who was waiting for him now at the entrance. I still don't know why he came this way, or how he even knew to. Perhaps he'd opened one up and it told him where to go? Though I don't know why he'd waste his time doing that when he knew that he could have been killed at any second... it still confuses me even now, but I suppose it doesn't really matter. He came, and even though the fact hadn't changed that I couldn't fit all of these cookies onto my body it prompted me to open another.

'Do not rest. You're wasting time. You know the enemy now, you know the danger you are in. Now run.'

I sighed, knowing that if those things didn't catch me then it'd be all of this cardio that killed me. I pushed myself up off of the ground, using the wall behind me to stabilize myself. I looked at the cookies that were now laying scattered around me. It was kind of sad that I couldn't take them with me. I only had ten or so left in my pockets, and those would only last so long if I ran into any kind of trouble whatsoever. I picked up one more cookie, deciding that I'd hold that one in my hand in case I needed something immediately. Another screech echoed from somewhere nearby, followed by the screams of both a man and a woman.

The sounds were like a gunshot for those track runners. The second it hit my ears, I knew it was time to move again. I wasn't going to run of course, my body could only take so much, but I wasn't going to half-ass a powerwalk either. I started to jog slightly, even though I knew this would tire me out almost as much as running I didn't really have much of a choice. I moved down the alleyway that I'd turned into until I got out to a street and then kept jogging pretty much straight ahead. I was never really good with directions so I had no real idea what the quickest way out of the city was. I'd never been in any kind of scouts or anything, and my father wasn't exactly the type to camp or do anything even remotely close to that. If he had a choice, he'd much rather just stay inside and watch television or read a book.

Ten or fifteen minutes after I started to jog, I heard the crunching of metal and an engine revving as a car flew out from an alleyway that was a little wider than the ones I had been travelling through. The windows were tinted, but there was a hole busted in the backseat on the driver's side and I caught a glimpse of a mess of blond hair in the driver's seat. The car sped down the road for a few seconds and then quickly spun around, coming back in my direction. Thank God. Whoever this was, their timing couldn't have been better. I was almost ready to pass out and so when the driver flung the car around, I simply stopped walking and waited for their arrival. I rolled the cookie around in my hand, wondering if now would be one of those times where I should ask it for advice on what to do next. Instead, I simply raised my hand and tried to smile as kindly as I could.

As the car approached it didn't slow, keeping its initial pace all the way until the driver slammed on the brakes a few yards away from me. The passenger window rolled down, revealing a young black girl in the passenger seat and a beautiful asian woman as the driver. The woman explained hurriedly that she had run a daycare and that this girl was the only one whose mother didn't show to pick her up when muk first hit the fan and these things started appearing around the city.

As if waiting for its cue, one of the figures from before floated down like a feather and landed like a ton of bricks a hundred or so yards behind the car and let out an ear-shattering screech. Half a dozen more of the figures began to float down from the sky, their cloaks flaring out to reveal massive, black-feathered wings. I didn't have time to wonder what the hell these things were or why they wanted me so badly, because as soon as more than one appeared the asian woman pressed on the gas, screaming at me to either get in or get lost.

Without hesitating, I flung the back door of the car open and all but threw myself into the car as it began to speed off. My legs were still dangling out the door, keeping it from closing. I couldn't sit up straight. The car was likely going at least one-hundred or so, and the force of it was keeping me pinned to the cushions. It took all that I had to hold on to the seat without flying out the door. The woman kept taking sharp turns, hoping to lose the creatures in some kind of maneuver I guessed. Back here I was useless though, even more so than usual.

The driver took another hard turn and the seat slipped from my grip. I slid straight out the door as we took that corner. Before it happened, as if everything were moving in slow motion, I saw both the little black girl and the asian woman look back over their shoulder at me. The driver pursed her lips and closed her eyes, gripping onto the steering wheel tighter as she turned harder while the little girl reached her tiny hand through the crack between her seat and the door, trying to help me back in. We all knew it was only a matter of time when I got into the car without shutting the door, but that little girl... she had held out hope. As quickly as they had come, they had gone. The screeching from behind me only increased as I stared at the exhaust trailing away from me.

I started to wipe the dirt off of my jeans and then realized that I had lost the cookie I was holding in my hand. I couldn't remember where I had put it. Most likely it was still in the backseat of that car, not that it really mattered since I had at least ten more in my pockets... that were all crushed. Great. I don't know if it was jumping into the car, or the fall from it that crushed them but they were ground up pretty good. I felt in my right pocket and pulled out a cluster of fortunes and bits of cookie.

'What a shame. Should have opened one back then and just gone off on your own. You done screwed the pooch.'

I shook my head and tossed the fortune aside, ready to see what actual advice they could give to me. But the next one was the exact same, and the one after that and the one after that too. They were all the same. I didn't understand it. I reached into my left pocket and felt around, pulling from it a handful of fortunes as well, all of which said the same thing.

'What a shame. Should have opened a cookie back then and just gone off on your own. You done screwed the pooch.'

This couldn't be. I thought I'd been so careful up until now, trying to preserve them after I realized they were the real deal and now I'd lost my one true lifeline. I ran my hand through my hair quickly, unsure of what to do now. Those two girls were already long gone, and my one real chance at salvation with them. I couldn't outrun these creatures forever, and even if I could, what would be the point? Who's to really say if it would just stop once I hit the city limits? I almost broke down into tears, but the screeching sounds off in the distance ripped me back to reality. I had to get out of here, regardless of what would or wouldn't happen once I did.

I spun around, searching for the nearest alley, and as I did I saw something laying there on the ground by the curb. A fortune cookie from Wonton King, still wrapped up nicely and in perfect condition. I was saved. I might have still made it out yet, but instead I lost yet another lifeline. A loud honk came from behind me, catching me completely off-guard as I was expecting more screeches if anything. The sound startled me so much that I jumped, losing my grip on the fortune cookie and causing it to fall into the storm drain. I fell to the ground, glancing back at the betrayers behind me who believed they were doing a good deed by risking their lives to return for me. I couldn't leave without this cookie, this final fortune. It would reveal everything I needed to know. This was fate, it was destiny that at this moment there should be only one cookie left. The two girls got out of their car and rushed over to me, trying to help me up off of the ground, but I refused. I screamed some obscenity that I can't recall to them, most likely a racial slur just to ensure that they'd leave... but they just wouldn't leave me be. The little girl tugged and pulled on the belt loops of my pants, and the asian woman pulled on my arm as she pleaded with me to get up.

After another thirty seconds of this the duo gave up, returning to their car and promising to say a prayer for me once they'd reached safety. I blew it off, concentrating only on the task at hand. They'd wasted my time, and I didn't have time to waste; so said the fortunes. I reached my arm into the storm drain, stretching and straining with all of my might to reach the cookie. It hadn't rained in weeks, so there was only a small puddle in the drain instead of anything that could create a current and push my safety further away. I was at least thankful for this one mercy. I could just barely reach the bow of the cookie's wrapper with the tips of my fingers, but the longer it sat in the water the more it seemed to shrink away from me.

Two minutes had passed, and then I realized that the wrapper was dissolving into the water. Damned eco-friendly bullmuk. If they'd been wrapped in plastic like every other place's, then I'd have been able to grab it up no problem. Instead, I pressed my arm even deeper into the hole until I felt something pop. I stifled a scream, guessing by the pain and the numbness that my arm had just came out of place. I'd never had any real injuries in my life; as I said, my father was more of an indoors-y guy and our bonding time was usually spent reading book so I didn't venture out much, never really had many friends so never had any real chances to get hurt. All of this also meant that I wasn't exactly used to trying to hold in screams of pain or anything of the sort, so when I say that I tried to dampen my scream what I really mean is that I tensed up my neck and whispered a handful or so of obscenities quite loudly before I'd gathered myself.

I placed my other hand on my arm and tried to pull it free, but the more I did the louder that my whispers of pain got and the more that I realized I was stuck here. My arm wasn't going anywhere, and so neither was I apparently. I laid there, with my eyes closed, wondering how it had all come to this. Where had I gone wrong, how had I ended up in this predicament at all and what the hell these creatures were. Maybe it was ironic, in some weird way. I never really cared about anything one way or the other until my life was on the line, and then still I wasn't able to care about other people enough to give up on a stupid scrap of paper in order to save myself. I wonder if other cities out there are going through this same thing. Maybe there's someone out there just like me, getting weird fortune cookies or maybe weird texts telling them to do this, that and the other. Maybe they actually listened from the get-go though and made it out. Unlike me.

The creatures were already on their way. Either they'd caught up to the two girls, or they'd given up their chase. Whichever, there were at least half a dozen screeches which echoed from all over town. I sighed, knowing that I was next. It would only be a matter of time before they were upon me. I said my final prayers, unsure of who to actually pray to I just kind of hashed a bunch of muk together from the various movies I'd seen and books that I'd read. I said a quick little prayer for my family, hoping that they weren't going through the same thing.

I took a deep breath. Another screech, this time much closer. I heard the flapping of wings from behind me and I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when they'd strike or how many of them there were. I felt myself slowly being lifted up into the air. My arm ripped completely from its socket, falling into the drainage area. It was weird, even though I knew that should have caused me to scream my lungs out, I felt no pain from it. I opened my eyes slightly, just a tad curious of what was to come. If they'd been so eager to find me, would I get the same death as that baby? Would it be death like those three girls? Or would they have something different, something special for me? There were six of them in front of me, and I could hear even more in the sky above. Some were behind me, and there were more to each of my sides. I had no clue what their real number was, and I didn't exactly care. All I was thinking, is that I hoped they'd hurry the hell up and get done with whatever it was they were going to do.

I felt my neck snap to the side, breaking in the process as they forced me to watch one of the creatures reach into the drain. It moved its arm around for a few seconds and then stopped, pulling my missing arm back out of the opening. In the gloved tips of my estranged fingers was a small white piece of paper. The being which had pulled the paper from the drain handed it to the figure directly in front of me and it nodded, unfolding the paper. Three or four seconds passed by and then the figure approached me, holding out the paper for me to see.

'It is over for you, Polubog. You lose. May you find peace with The Dreamer.'


It's "I Come Anon"

Age 28
Northern Virginia
Seen February 2nd, 2021
Posted May 26th, 2018
1,184 posts
13.2 Years
This is eerie and fascinating stuff so far. The theme of “hunger” seems more abstract in the first story compared to the second and third, but it still fits with the others because of what you’re doing with the narration style across all three. The characters take a very matter-of-fact approach to a lot of the things in this world they live in, and that allows the initial unsettling elements of each story to just sneak their way in.

It was particularly unnerving to me the way it was revealed that the character in Fortune eats an unnatural amount of food. The description of his apartment and the outline of his habits at the beginning seemed so normal and typical that you'd never guess he's morbidly obese, which would be the first thing we'd notice if this were a movie. And it makes sense in-character that the information is delivered this way: nobody wants to come across as abnormal, and he would of course be tired of people judging him by his condition. It reinforces this running theme of the narration belying how disturbing what’s happening is.

Where this is used to best effect is probably in Addict where Herbert takes Joe’s claim that he’s been eating cell phones in stride. It left me wondering if he doesn’t believe Joe, if he’s horrified but doesn’t want to show it, or if eating a cell phone is somehow not out of the norm in this world. Because it follows the first story which establishes the supernatural side of the world, it feels like anything’s on the table, which is great.

Back to Fortune, one thing I’m not sure worked was how little he seemed to react to falling out of the car. While It’s true that the narrator is deliberately putting some distance between himself and the story, I was surprised it didn’t hurt more, or really much at all. That aside, I like the device of the fortune cookies and the voice of whatever being is behind them. The creatures are also convincingly creepy, though I think the fate of the one family could have had more impact. The imagery of the blanket dropping to the floor with nothing in it was A+, but the others slowly disappearing in plain sight doesn’t have the same punch. Similarly, the ending isn’t exactly punchy, but what it does have going for it is some decent use of ambiguity. It’s not difficult to imagine what happens to the main character (theme of hunger, guy with a lot of fat on him, monsters with sharp teeth), and while I think it would help to imply the specifics of his end more heavily, it works fine as-is.

One more thing I want to praise is how you mix the spiritual and the bureaucratic in Preporod. The cold, sterile, dispassionate way the Sudbina oversees reincarnation is an evocative image. It also makes the revelation of Meleanolu’s ‘legacy’ and ‘paths’ all the more disturbing. I take this to mean that he was a catfish in a prior life and is incurring a heavy penalty for it. I’d be pretty desperate to escape the cycle, too.

I’m interested to see how much light the stories to come shed on the workings of this world. But even if most of my questions remain in the dark, that’s no problem with me since each of these is interesting and atmospheric on its own. Looking forward to the next story!
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Family (kind of?): [url-inline="member.php?u=25615"]Strange person who calls me strange names[/url-inline]


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
The Evolution - The Visitor (revised)

"I said get back here!"

"Don't put your hands on me, David!"

"Don't you psyducking walk out on me like this! I am the man of this house, dammit! I make the money, I pay the bills, and I make it so you're able to afford running around town like this! The hell do you think you'd be without me? You're nothing and you'll never psyduckin' be nothin'!"

The sound of a fist striking a wall echoed into the boy's room, the sound of his parent's arguing keeping him from falling asleep. It was a familiar story, but still one he had yet to grow accustomed to. Jakob rolled over in his bed, and curled up into a ball facing the wall while pulling his blanket up over his head.

"Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Go to sleep." The boy whispered this to himself every night. It had started to become a ritual, performed every time the clock struck ten.

"I want to go out David! I can't be with you right now, not when you're like... this."

"Like what Crista? Like what? A little bit drunk? Is it that big of a deal for you?"

The sound of the door creaking open and then being slammed shut came repeatedly four or five times.

"Dammit, I said you're not going anywhere!"

A sharp smacking of skin against skin came with a scream of agony and a thud. Two more thuds followed with screams in tow, one with a more hollow sound like something hitting the door and then another heavier one like a body falling against the floor. Slowly the screams died down and were replaced by the soft cries of a defeated woman.

"Baby, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it. Here, let's just go to bed for tonight. We're both just tired, we can talk about this all in the morning."

Then there was silence. Jakob pressed his eyes closed as hard as he could as the shuffling of feet echoed down the hall towards his room. The door creaked, a few short sniffles and some shaky breathing came from above him as the mother placed her hand on his head and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Maybe... maybe some day..."

The woman's lips pressed against his head and then the door creaked back shut. The wood frame of his parent's bed began to creak, echoing through the suddenly silent house. The soft moaning of his mother, primitive grunts of his father and the wood threatening to splinter under the movement of all their combined weight. The sounds would escalate through the next several hours and would at times keep the boy awake if he did not fall asleep soon enough. Their room was adjacent to his, and the head of their bed rested against the wall between their rooms. As the night would progress, the sounds of his parents and the bed would increase to a traumatizing volume, usually leaving Jakob too scared to even sneak out to the restroom.

This night however, the boy was lucky and fell asleep not long after his mother kissed the top of his head. For the past several months, whenever he did manage to fall asleep he would wind up in the same dream. It was a strange dream, a sort of recurring nightmare even though it didn't necessarily frighten him. Had he not figured out its secret some time back, he might not have even believed that he was dreaming but instead having a peaceful sleep free of the horrors of the real world.

In this dream the boy was placed into complete darkness, an endless and empty void. His body was stuck to something, restrained, unable to move and unable to speak. In the beginning, he was alone staring at nothing and hearing nothing in the entire world. His eyes were open, and every so often something would crack in the far off depths of the darkness. At times, a voice would whisper something that Jakob couldn't quite catch, and at other times the boy would feel the warm air of someone, or something's breath on the back of his neck.

These things of course would only take place at the end of his dreams. However, try as he might, they would never come right when he entered this strange, dark world. Usually, around the time that Jakob would be on the verge of waking up, he would begin to hear the whispers and see the shadows forming into something else in the far off darkness. Pushing himself, struggling to keep his real eyes closed but his dream ones open would let him experience things he otherwise should have missed out on. Such is the only reason he even knew that he was actually dreaming; the boy had spent the past months training himself to stay aware in this area but still lay sleeping in his bed.

The first time he'd heard the cracking noise it had startled him awake. He'd stayed asleep longer accidentally, not having ever forced himself to sleep longer before but instead fearing that he might waste away the precious daylight. That first time... the vast emptiness, the never ending silence was broken by the sound of some unknown object snapping. Ever since, he'd been dreaming longer, experiencing and understanding more of what this dark void was. The whispers grew clearer every time, and he'd almost been able to figure out what was being said once or twice before until the voice distanced itself again.

Tonight was different. His father had been especially violent, but it hadn't taken him too long to fall asleep. This meant Jakob would be able to sleep longer without fear of missing anything to happen in the day. His mother liked to go out for walks the day after conflicts like that, but she would also stay in bed a little longer and shrug off the day's cleaning duties.

The telltale cracking sound started in, slowly, ominously, growing louder with the passing minute. Warm breezes rushed past the child, and then stopped and hovered around his throat. An unrecognizable whisper tickled the inside of his ear, and then after a few more minutes it came again.

"Maybe some day... why not today?"

Jakob's eyes shot open and a chill ran through his entire body. The back of his neck was still warm from where the thing in the dark had been breathing. The sun had yet to rise outside, but he was stuck frozen in bed thinking about what had just happened. He'd never been able to understand the voices, but to have it whispered so directly into his ear the first time he was able to understand it?

"M-m-mom?" The child whispered under his breath, his whole body shaking.

The sound of the woman's snoring in the next room offered a sort of comfort, even if the boy couldn't get up and go to her. Jakob's eyes scanned across his room, searching for anything with the time on it but finding nothing. He lay there in bed, staring up at the ceiling above him. His mind trailed off into inactivity as the darkness began to creep back in from the corners of his eyes. Within the hour, he had fallen asleep again.

"Why did you leave?"

The boy's heart rate instantly shot up. As soon as he'd fallen back to sleep, the voice was upon him.

"Did you not wish for me to come? Do you not wish for me to help? You are the one who called to me, are you not? You are the one who dreams, are you not? My child, you are allowed to speak. Fear me not, young one."

Jakob's jaw dropped slowly, feeling that he was no longer restrained in any way. His arms and legs moved freely, and his eyes began to adjust to the darkness for the first time.

"Child, do you know who I am?"

"You are... the one who makes those snapping sounds?"

"Hmm hmm. Yes, I am he. But what I am first, is a friend. I come to children like you who call out for help, those who dream of this world around us. I move through the dark, going to each of your homes and calling for those who first beckoned me. If they can hear my reply, then they are the blessed few who truly wish to be helped. But if they don't hear me... well... they're left and forgotten. I am after all, a very busy man."

"Then... do you have a name?"

"I believe I did once, but now I'm just called the Visitor. I visit the homes of troubled children like yourself and do my best to help fix things for them. All I want is for my children to be happy, and without pain or sorrow in their lives."

Jakob was silent. His head drooped and he stared at his hands as he shook slightly. "And when you help these children what do you do? What do they give you for helping them, mister?"

"What do I do? Well, I fix things. It's strange to say, but merely by being around the problems in their lives their troubles are slowly but surely stopped and erased completely. As for what I take in return, I only ask for their smiles. The smiles of the young and happy are what give me the strength to continue on every night."

"Then... what do I have to do for you to help me now? I want Mommy and Daddy and me to be happy again. I don't want them to fight. I want to go on vacations and go out to eat and play games together and smile and laugh and-"

"Here now, one step at a time my child. I will promise to help you as best as I can. But for right now, I need for you to take my hand and awake from this dream."

Jakob reached out into the darkness and was greeted by something solid. Grabbing firmly on to it, the boy opened his eyes and saw that the sun had already risen. His mother coughed from the other side of the wall and the sound of his father's truck roaring to a start came from outside. The boy squeezed on the hand of the creature he had brought back from the dream with him. Jakob turned his head, seeing that the creature was kneeling on the ground next to his bed.

"You have accepted my offer... then, within the next two days I shall erase your troubles completely."

The thing which he had brought over with him... didn't seem to have a proper form. There was a mass of darkness which the boy guessed to be his body. A set of red beady eyes floated about the black void of which was its body. A black, tattered cloak covered him, casting a shadow over the opening where his face should be. There didn't seem to be any legs, and the 'hand' which Jakob had been holding on to was only part of the visitor's cloak.

"Shall we go meet your parents then? I would love to be introduced before I begin to work."

"Okay, mister. My daddy should be at work, but mommy will be around somewhere."

As if on a cue, the door to the boy's room opened. The woman looked inside at her child and smiled half-heartedly, her eyes were sunken in and surrounded with bags. "Do you want to go on a walk with Mommy today?" The woman sniffled a couple of times and licked her bruised and swollen lips.

Jakob looked over at the man he had brought back with him and then at his mother. "Have you met my friend?"

"Your... friend?" The woman looked around the room, confused and then shook her head. His mother's voice was filled with impatience, obviously not in the mood to play with any imaginary friends. However she hid it as best she could, sighing quietly and rubbing her cheek with the palm of her hand. "Oh, no. I don't believe we've been introduced. What is your friend's name sweetie?"

The boy looked over to the man and then back at his mother. "His name is the Visitor he says."

"Oh, the Visitor. Well, he sounds quite nice doesn't he? Nice to meet you Mr. Visitor." The woman nodded to the corner of the room opposite from where the boy and the visitor were. "Now, would you like to go on a walk with Mommy, sweetheart?"

Jakob looked between the two one more time and then nodded his head at his mother. "Visitor you stay here and wait for daddy. I'm going to go on a walk with Mommy."

"Carry on child. I'll be waiting here when you return."

The young boy ran out the room, pulling his door closed behind him as his mother made her way to the entryway. Jakob ran out the entrance and flung himself into the passenger's seat of the car, quickly fastening his seat belt before averting his attention to the window where his room was. The curtains covering the inside of the glass pane were pulled back, allowing anyone who might be passing by to see in or out. Standing in the frame of his room was the visitor, the cloak pressed up against the window in the shape of a hand waving goodbye to the boy as his mother locked the house up behind her.

As the woman entered the vehicle and began to turn the key, the curtains of Jakob's room were slowly pulled shut. The boy simply smiled as he wondered what this visitor of his would do for him. How could he make his life better? How could he change everything for the better? The visitor had said that he'd done this many times before, perhaps Jakob should simply let it go and see what happened?

Crista looked over at her son worriedly. When they had began to leave, her son had seemed happy. The smile stretched across his face was indication enough of that. But as they grew further away from their home, his smile faded and a distant look grew on his face as his eyes glazed over.

"Jakob?" She prodded the boy gently and with a soft, low voice, hoping to grab his attention without upsetting or angering him. Although, when he didn't answer she dug her finger slightly deeper into his side and repeated his name a little louder. "Jakob." Still though, the boy remained silent. Starting to become upset with him, Crista dug her finger even deeper into his side until she could feel his bone with the tip of her finger. "Jakob!" She shouted this time, angry and intent on having him listen to what she had to say.

The boy shot up in his seat due to the pain, not only in his side but in his ear from the shouting. He began to rub his side where his mother had stuck her finger. "Jeez! I'm sorry, Mommy! You didn't have to go and do that though. That really hurt."

"Well," She began, "you weren't answering me. I thought you were trying to ignore me or somethin'." Crista shifted back into a comfortable position in her seat, having had to lean over both armrests in order to reach the boy. She forced all of the air out of her lungs with a heavy breath as she readied herself to speak in a more serious tone. "How has school been?"

Jakob exhaled. This is always how it started. It's really what he hated most out of everything. The shaking of the house at night, their fights, the yelling, screaming and cussing; all of it had started to become part of a routine and didn't actually bother him all that much anymore. It was more that he'd been complaining to himself about it for so long that it just felt wrong to give up and admit defeat, to admit that it really didn't cause him to be upset as much. Now days, it was these talks that occurred before the walks that he and his mother would take the mornings after. They always started out so blandly, always the same with these meaningless questions. She knew how school was. If it had been good, he would talk about it immediately after he got home. If it had been bad, the teacher would call - or in some particularly bad situations, the principal. The only reason she asked is so she could get it out of the way and start talking about herself.

"It's been fine."

"Just fine? What about your friends? Done anything fun lately? Anything new happen? Anyone die?" She laughed uneasily after the last one. She knew it wasn't exactly a funny thing to say, but her parents had said it to her as she grew up and it just seemed like something natural to say even if it did make her uncomfortable.

"Everything's just fine. Nothing really new. Same old same old. You know. We talk after school almost every day. How much longer until we're to the park?"

"There's still about ten or so minutes." She paused for a few seconds, little grumblings and mumbles escaping from between her lips as she fought with her tongue and mind to form the words that she wanted to say. "Do you... do you like living with your father... and me?" She bit her tongue.

Jakob swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew this question was coming as again, just like with almost everything else he's come to expect this as part of the whole routine. Yet, every time it came up it still put him on edge. His answers varied too, likely confusing his mother and her decisions on what to do going forward. Jakob knew he was just as much a part of the problem as she and his father's drinking. He couldn't even give one straight, consistent answer to a simple question.

"I... I guess. I mean. I don't know. Sometimes it's not great, but I still love him and I love all the fun things that we do together when everything is okay... I like spending time with both of you. I like living in the house that we do. I like board games and watching football every Sunday or going out to a movie if we don't like the teams."

His mother pursed her lips, and he watched from the corner of his eye as her grip on the steering wheel tightened. He had inferred that she had fought with the idea of leaving his father multiple times. Every time they went out like this and he said that he enjoyed being with them both she would hold her tongue and clench the wheel tighter. And every time that he said he didn't so much care for his father - usually said after he and his father would have a petty disagreement and he was particularly upset with the man - tears would well up in her eyes and she'd lick her lips before diverting her gaze out the window.

Every time that he would answer, they would sit in silence until they reached their destination. It gave his mother time to compose herself, and even if Jakob had a thought to follow up with, he knew that it would be better just to remain silent and give her time to think to herself. However, today felt different. For some reason, he felt that if he didn't let her know what he was still thinking before they arrived then the damage might be irreparable.

"But," he began quietly, trying not to frighten his mother who had also grown slightly accustomed to this routine, "I think that... I think that you should think about yourself first. Whether or not you're... well... don't let me... crap. Just give me a second." The boy took several deep breaths as he tried to calm himself. His mother kept her eyes trained on the road, but her palms were beginning to sweat. She knew what he was trying to say, but if she stopped him now it wouldn't be the same as it would if he finished the thought himself. "You should put your own happiness first. I think that you've been too unhappy for too long and well... I don't think you should be unhappy any longer. I want to help in whatever way I can too... and that's why... that's why I started talking to the Visitor."

Crista shook her head, taken back by his mention of the visitor. "Your imaginary friend?"

Jakob nodded. "Yes, but he's not imaginary. I met him in a dream and he said that he could help us, that he would make things better in just two days."

Crista scoffed. "Buddy, if that were possible we'd probably have never started taking these morning walks. We'd both still be in bed right now, sleeping away the day like you're supposed to on a weekend."

"But... the Visitor is real. I know he is. I felt him. I heard him and I saw him. There's no way that he's fake."

"Jakob! Dammit. You're too old to be having imaginary friends. Grow up a little bit! I thought we were having a serious conversation here and then you just, ugh." The woman shook her head violently and turned to stare out the window.

"I'm sorry... I just..."

His mother didn't reply. The turn for the park came up and instead of taking it, Crista threw a U-turn and began to head back home in what was most likely the most uncomfortable thirty minutes of Jakob's young life. The entire ride back was held in silence, and a feeling of oppression hung in the air. The boy knew that if he spoke another word before they arrived back at the house that his mother would pull the car over to the side of the road and proceed to spank him. She didn't know any better. The Visitor was real, she just didn't want to believe it and it only upset her to think that her son would try to play with her emotions in such a way.

Crista pulled the car into the driveway and flung the door open while pulling the key from the ignition in one swift motion. "But the visitor is real," she whispered under her breath mockingly. "Unbelievable." She turned her neck so that she could see Jakob from the corner of her eye, still fastened into his seat while she had one leg dangling out of the car door. She furled her nose and shook her head at the child before exiting the car. The door slammed shut as the woman flung her weight against it. Her hands raked through her hair as she stared up at the sky, trying her best to suppress a scream.

Jakob dared not to open the door or even undo the seat belt until his mother had gone inside. Somehow, in some way he had infuriated her far worse than ever before. When he was four he had run out into traffic outside their old apartment and for hours after she screamed at and beat his behind. When he was six he had packed up a small backpack and 'ran away' to his grandmother's house which was right down the street from their condo at the time. After his grandma called his mother and she picked him up, she held on to him so tightly that he felt he was suffocating within her breasts. Every few seconds she would rake his back with her nails, just to make sure that he was actually still there with her and not just some dream conjured up from some intense wishful thinking.

But nothing compared to the vibe he was getting from her now. She was genuinely angry this time. She wasn't scared for his life. She wasn't just upset that he had forgotten to mow the lawn or feed the goldfish or anything else like that. Whatever it was that he had done had pushed her over the edge. Normally these trips would feature a nice walk around this time. They'd go on unmarked trails through the trees, venturing deep into the wilderness. But yet they'd always started at the same spot, and she would always clench the same tree, pulling a small piece of bark from it and dropping it to the ground below. After that moment, everything was different. She was calmer. Quieter. She smiled every so often and would encourage Jakob to try and race her to various trees throughout the paths.

There was something about that tree. Something that allowed her to simply forgive and forget all of the wrongs done against her. Without it, it seemed that all that she had bottled up within herself was flowing over now. Jakob simply sat in his seat, twiddling his thumbs as the minutes passed. Eventually his mother turned her head over to the front door and began to walk away towards it. Her hands laid flat at her sides. As she moved, they refused to. She stood stiff as a board, hoping to veil the fact that she was still on the verge of snapping at any given moment.

After Crista went through the front door, Jakob continued to wait; five minutes, then ten and twenty. After thirty minutes had passed, Jakob finally unbuckled his restraint and pushed open the car door. As he exited, he noticed that the curtains over his window had been flung open again. The boy quietly made his way into the house, twisting the knob on the door so that when it shut it wouldnt make a sound. He tip-toed his way down the hallway to where his room was, but when he entered he saw that his mother was there waiting, already seated on his bed with her hands crossed in her lap.

Where is he then?

Where is who?

Your visitor. The one who is, supposedly going to fix everything wrong with all this over night?

I Jakob looked around his room, frantically searching for the being who would save his life not only in the next few days but in this very moment as well. But there was nobody but his mother and himself. She had already trashed the room searching for this imaginary man, knowing full well that she wouldnt find him. A sinister smile formed on her lips as he remained silent.

So then, he truly doesnt exist, does he? You were just lying to me, werent you? Real life isnt all fun and games Jakob. The things that we believe, that we wish and pray for are not always what comes to be. Oh no, those are the things that hardly ever do come true. What life is truly filled with is disappointment, upset and rage. All of those things which you pray against, that you wish would simply disappear as they hover of you in your own bed at night! These are the things that make up our world! And you best damn well get used to it! Your fathers a piece of muk and a drunk, Im the whole psyducking train's wreckage and youre our son, so don't even get your hopes up that you'll amount to anything better than what you've come from.

"I'm sorry..." Tears began to form in the corners of Jakob's eyes as he cursed himself and the Visitor both. So much time and effort had gone into building a routine on the parts of his mother and himself. But he ruined it, threw it away all because of some being which he couldn't explain who appeared in the middle of the night and whispered honeyed words to him as he still lay half dreaming. Maybe the whole exchange had been a dream and he'd only really woken up when his mother entered his room? He'd probably just given up everything for no good reason.

"Is that really all you have to say? You're 'sorry'? You know what? Psyduck that. That's bullmuk Jakob. Complete and utter bullmuk. I'm going to have to have a talk with your father tonight about your behavior today. Of course, we won't tell him about our secret walk 'n talks. Wouldn't want him getting upset at the both of us now would we?"

With that final threat, his mother was gone. Rising quickly from his bed and storming out of his room, slamming the door shut behind her. Jakob sat there for several minutes. The room seemed even more lonely now than ever before. Everything that had made the room his; all of his posters, his clothes, toys, games and music were pulled from their places and strewn across the room. His dresser was emptied and dumped on the floor, the closet ransacked and every little place where he thought he could safely hide those things which his father had said he should have outgrown were intentionally pulled into plain sight and left there in the center of the room for all to see. It didn't occur to him at first but as it all began to sink in, Jakob realized that he was now crying.

"Ooh ooh, poor poor child. What have you gone and done now? You know you shouldn't upset your parents like that. 'Tis what you brought me here for, is it not? Would you truly rather wage this war on your own?"

"Where... where were you? She looked everywhere. I looked everywhere. She tore apart my room and screamed at me like never before... I was, I was afraid. She could have hurt me, and where would you have been to stop her?"

"Child, my child. The fault of that is your own, is it not? I told you that I would take care of this on my own within the next two days, yet you ignored me and took it upon yourself to let your mother in on our little secret. Though you thought you might've been doing some good by bringing her to realize and understand what it is that's about to go on in this home of yours, all you've done is made this job of mine harder. See, had I shown her my true form and let her know that I am indeed real what do you think she'd say? Would she throw her hands to the sky, praising the God Almighty that her woes are finally over? Or would she scream out in fear over the being from another dimension who hovers over her only son even now in the dark loneliness of his own bedroom?"

"I... I don't... but you are here to help, aren't you?"

"Of course I am my boy. I am here to make all of your problems vanish. By this time tomorrow, they'll all be gone. Your troubles will cease to be. But only if your parents aren't made aware of my existence. If they were to know that I was real indeed, they would fight against me. See, it's all well and good for the children to know that the magic was done by my hands, but if an adult were to know that they weren't the ones fixing their own problems then don't you think they'd be upset? That they'd try and do it on their own, to force a compromise from their own crumbling lives? It's a matter of dignity, of pride. Once I finish here, both you and they will never remember that you even uttered my name. If one was to learn that someone imparted their own will to create their perceived happiness, they would only grow to hate it that much more. Adults are entirely too stubborn and annoying, hence why I only do business with their younger, more understanding offspring."

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caused the visitor to raise up a little higher. Once more the cloth of its cloak pressed outwards towards the boy, beckoning him to take hold.

"Now my child, what say you we go meet your father?"


The rest of the night went relatively well. There was no fight, no yelling or screaming and the night was silent. Dinner had nearly been a disaster however. Jakob's mother had spilled the beans so to speak about the boy's new imaginary friend and how her entire day had been wasted by his incessant ramblings about the thing. Of course, that was a lie. What time she could have spent cleaning she had instead spent rampaging throughout the house hoping to see a violent reaction from her husband against someone other than herself for a change. Jakob had truly angered her, and all the years of pent of aggression towards her lover had began to break free and coil around her son. That man had forced her to give birth to the boy, and thinking about all that David had done now and what the boy might do to some other woman in the future only caused her to grow even angrier.

David was in no mood however. A long day at the lumber mill, and the death of a close coworker that very day from an accident at that workplace had left him without the energy to even pick up a bottle for dinner. His fists remained unclenched all throughout his wife's nagging and expectant pushing and pulling of his nerves. Dinner ended at eight, and when it did the man made his way for bed. Unwilling to even take off his shoes or coat, he simply fell into bed and slept.

Crista glared at her son as she cleared the dinner table. Jakob stared at his hands which were clasped together in his lap.

"M-may I be excused?" His voice was just above a whisper. He knew any little thing might set her off now. She was even more upset now that his father had all but ignored them both during dinner. Whereas normally a few minutes of her talking would begin to turn his fists into a clench, there was nary a tremble or shake.

Crista quickly cocked her head towards the hallway. "Do what you will."

Jakob rose slowly, pushing his chair in to the table and washing his plate off before shuffling to his room at the end of the hall.

"Rough night, huh kiddo?"

The Visitor walked out from the shadows of his parents' bedroom and leaned up against the wall of the hallway.

"I don't really know... Dad was quiet the whole time which doesn't usually happen... and Mom's still angry about what happened earlier. I don't... I don't know if she'll ever forgive me really." The corners of the boy's mouth began to twitch as his eyes teared. "She's never yelled at me like that and I... I just... I don't know what to do."

The boy threw himself onto his bed, clutching his pillow as tightly as he could before screaming into the bunched up foam. The falling tears dampened the pillow, causing it to grow hard around his face. He pulled away from the pillow as the cloak of the visitor brushed against the back of his head. Snot and drool trailed from the pillow as he pulled up, his eyes glistening as he looked into the shadowy face of the man.

"There, there. No need to cry my child. Come tomorrow, you'll forget this all ever happened. I promise. You'll never have to cry another day in your life, I guarantee it."

"B-but you said it w- would take t-t-two days to make it a-all bet-ter."

"Ah, yes. Well, about that. I went ahead and got a head start on the whole thing. I do believe that by this time tomorrow, you'll agree with me that things are the way they should be."

"I-If you say so... I think... I think I just need to sleep now. My eyes are so heavy and I don't really want mom to come in here and see me like this."

"Yes, I do believe it'll be quiet tonight. No problems getting to sleep this time I hope."

Once more the cloth rubbed against the back of Jakob's head, and then across his cheek. The boy's eyes began to close slowly as he heard the footsteps echoing down the hall. His mother was coming. Whatever it was for didn't matter though. Before she ever reached the room, Jakob had already fallen to sleep.

Though the day had gone quite differently than those before, he still found himself in the same dream. The darkness surrounded him still, and he remained stuck to some object. It seemed that even though he had met the Visitor the night prior, it hadn't changed the way that this dream would begin... or so he thought. But that idea was quickly dispelled as he felt the breathing on his neck not five seconds later.

Hundreds of little whispers entered his ears and echoed throughout his mind. Each sounded as if it came from a mouse; small, weak and inaudible. And even though he couldn't hear them all, he could have sworn that he could make out just one word which each voice shared. 'Run.'

Off in the distance, tiny lights began to shine. The longer that he looked though, the less they seemed to be lights. They seemed to reflect the light more than they seemed to give it off. Something out there was shining brightly, though he couldn't yet see it. All these different little things began to shine in the darkness around him, all such far ways off. It seemed that whatever light shone out there would never reach him. But as the moments passed and more of these little reflectors appeared, the more that he began to hear another sound.

Crunch. Snap. Crack. Over and over, these sounds of something breaking grew closer. Jakob grew frightened, not knowing what else could be out there if the Visitor was already with him. He wished desperately for his eyes to open but they refused. Suddenly the sounds ceased and so too did the warmth and the voices coming from behind him.

"The things that we believe, that we wish and pray for are not always what comes to be. Oh no, those are the things that hardly ever do come true. What life is truly filled with is disappointment, upset and rage. All of those things which you pray against, that you wish would simply disappear as they hover over you in your own bed at night!"

Jakob shot forward, nearly flying out of his bed as he awoke. His eyes were wide as they scanned around the room.


There was no reply. Jakob stood and walked to his bedroom door, opening it slowly so as to keep it from creaking. He peeked around the corner into his parents' bedroom. Seeing that they were both asleep, he made his way down the hall and into the kitchen where the nearest clock was hung.

2:17 AM

The digital display shone in the darkness like a star in the night sky. A small rectangle in the abyss, illuminating a small patch on the table where a tiny solitary bone was laid. Jakob picked the bone up and looked it over, unsure of where it had come from. Lifting it up in the light, he wondered why his mother would have placed it there. They hadn't eaten anything with bones lately, could she have really gone this far just to threaten him? The boy held the bone up against his middle finger, noting that it was nearly the same size as the first segment.

Crunch. Snap. Crack. The sounds from his dream began again, only this time much closer to where he was. He felt the warm breath on the back of his neck and turned slowly to face whatever it was behind him.

There stood his father, still in his work uniform and his hand elbow deep in a trash bag. He was grasping for something, but the boy couldn't figure out what. Just as he moved to get a better look, the man tore his hand free from the bag. David threw his head backwards causing his neck to make an audible snapping sound. The tissue around his mouth tore instantly in the process, revealing a dark abyss filled with hundreds of tiny, knife-like teeth as he launched a handful of tiny bones into his mouth which had split open at the jaw.

Jakob shot forward from his bed, nearly falling from it as he did so. Morning light shone through the small opening in the curtains as he held back his vomit. The boy rushed to the bathroom and began to hurl over the open toilet. Some of the bones that his father had been eating in that dream... they still had skin on them... human skin. The thought of it sickened him, even knowing that it was just a dream.

"There, there my boy. Dreams cannot hurt you unless you allow them to."

The cloak rubbed against the back of his head as the Visitor comforted him. Crunch. Snap. Crack. The sounds came from behind him once more and the boy felt even more acid force its way up and into the toilet. After it all had ended, he was nearly too frightened to turn and face the thing behind him. Curiosity got the better of him though. Jakob turned to face the visitor, seeing that he had in his hand a small pouch with tiny bones in it.

"W-what are those?" The boy swallowed hard, hoping that the visitor wouldn't recognize the fear in his voice.

"Oh these? No worries. They're simply chicken's bones. The marrow is especially delicious, have you ever tried it? If you cook them just right, when you snap the bones in half you can suck the marrow straight out of them."

The Visitor made a display of it all. Taking one of the biggest bones that he could find, he snapped it with the cloak and then lifted his arm up before dropping the bone into his mouth. With a grotesque slurping and sucking sound, followed by that haunting crunch. The visitor patted the boy on the head and then motioned the bag towards him.

"No no, I'm quite alright." The bones were nearly the same size as the ones in his dream, which made him all the more queasy at the thought of putting one in his mouth.

"Suit yourself. I suppose it is an acquired taste. Anyways, I've finished my work early. All of your problems have now ceased to exist, as was promised. Would you like to go now, my child? I believe they should be waiting for you as we speak if all has gone well."

Jakob shook his head nervously, unsure of what was to come. Last night's dream was the first he'd had in several months that wasn't simply that dark place and the visitor slowly making his approach. But whatever happened after... if it was any kind of sign...

The visitor ushered the young boy into the living room. The tv was blaring some commercial about a new cleaning product and his parents sat comfortably on the three-seated sofa. Whenever they'd gather together for family time like this, his mother would sit on the left, his father on the right and he'd take the middle seat. However, now his mother and father sat together taking up the right and the middle seat. As he maneuvered around the sofa, he noticed that his mother was laying with her head on his father's chest and was spread across both the middle and left cushion where he was supposed to sit. Their eyes followed him as he made his way to the open seat. He couldn't recall the last time that his parents had laid together so comfortably in the open like that.

"Well, well, well what have we here?" His mother smiled wide, showing all of her teeth as she leaned up from her laying position. "Finally decided to come out of your room did you? Finally got rid over that silly cold?"

"But he..." Jakob began before cutting himself off. What was the use anyways? Neither of his parents believed him about this visitor character. "Wait." Jakob scrunched his eyebrows and looked over at his mother. "Cold? What cold?"

"Oh dear, I knew it was bad but I never thought it could have been this severe. You were shut up in your room for two whole days hunny. You slept like a sack of bricks, never going to the bathroom, eating, drinking or even opening your eyes! My god, me and your father were so frightened we even called in the doctor to check on you. Of course, he said everything was fine and that we should simply let you rest. Apparently, it was some kind of stress induced fatigue."

"But what about... what about the visitor? What about the fight we got into last night? What about-"

His father shifted in his seat. "Fight? What's all this talk about fighting? I thought we raised you better than that Jakob. You should know that that's not allowed in this house. Why would you even joke about that?"

Jakob looked at his father, taken back by the words he had just uttered. "Are you psyducking kidding me?"

"Language!" Both parents shouted out in unison.

"My bad. But still, are you kidding me? You and mom fight like, almost every single day. You can't tell me that fighting isn't allowed in this house when you do it all the time."

"Hun, what are you even talking about? Me and your father have never been in a fight. Truth be told, there's really nothing to fight about. Me and your father are as happy together as any couple could ever hope to be. I see no reason for us to ever fight."

"But what about our 'walk 'n talks'? What about that old tree on the secluded path? You know? The one that you always peel a piece of bark from before we start walking?"

His mother looked at him, bewildered. "What are you talking about Jakob? Are you sure you're feeling all better now? Where are you getting all of these strange ideas from?"

"What do you mean?" Jakob's mind was racing. Either his mother really didn't want his father to know about what they did while he was at work, or everything that he had ever known had fallen apart over the course of a night. Had the visitor really done so much while he had slept? Could anyone, or anything really have such a power in the first place?

"Hun?" His mother placed her hands on his cheeks, turning his face to the left and right as she looked him over. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Jakob hesitated, and then looked down into his lap. "Yeah. I'm fine." A small smile began to form on his face.

"That's good. Your father and I have been so exhausted from work this past week. Since it's the end of the school year all we've had is finals and mountains of paperwork. David's trying so hard but... everyone needs a break every now and then. And my English students, my god! It's as if they haven't paid attention all semester!"

"You're... both teachers?"

"No, of course not hun. Your father's the principal don't you remember?"

"The principal, huh? Sounds awful nice."

"It's a job." His father chuckled lightly as he turned the channel on the t.v. to a football game that was about to start. "There's some good kids there, sure, but there's too much violence in the rest of them. It's not anything like the old days. What do you say we play a game while we wait for the game? I went ahead and pulled some out. We've got Monopoly, Life, Uno, Phase 10 and well, just go pick something out."

Jakob nodded, still unsure of what change had taken place. The memories of the visitor slowly began to fade from his mind as he shuffled through the various games that had been laid out on the floor. The smile stretched further across the boy's face as the seconds passed, and tears began to fall from his face as he picked up Life.

"It's been a while since we've played that," his Mother stated, sitting up from the sofa and taking a seat on the floor next to her son. "I think I'll be yellow."

Jakob's Father took a seat on the other side of him, grabbing the purple car and setting it on the board. "Well, let's hope it doesn't end the same as last time either." The man chuckled softly as tears began to trickle down his cheek.

"I don't remember... what did... what did happen last time?" Tears were now streaming down Crista's face as well, the smile on her face started to seem forced as it grew dangerously longer to the point that it seemed her mouth might rip apart if it spread any further.

"I... I don't..." David began.

"Jakob won." A whisper from somewhere in the room near instantly set the family at ease.

"Yes, that's right. Jakob did win. That little booger, always having such a talent for these kinds of things." David slapped the boy on his back in a playful manner, the tears disappearing from the family's faces as the whisper from before dispersed.

"Well, let's spin to see who goes first then."

Jakob reached his hand out for the spinner as a cold, dark mist began to seep into the room and cover everything within it. However, it didn't appear that anyone had noticed it. The lights in the room went out one by one as each person spun the dial until finally as Jakob was about to take his turn, the entire room was engulfed in the darkness.

The visitor stood in front of Jakob, his hand covering the boy's eyes as he floated, suspended in the darkness. The father and mother floated beside him, now also trapped in this place with smiles stretched across their faces as they slept peacefully with their hands interlocked. The visitor tore the skin from around all three's mouths and tossed it aside, permanently barring their teeth. The shrouded being reached up to the father's face and pulled from it a handful of teeth before reaching into the mother's to do the same.

"'Tis really the only thing these adults are good for. Larger teeth do provide a more noticeable crunch compared to their younger variants."

The being dropped the teeth into a small sack at his waist before wrapping his hand around Jakob's, pulling apart his digits at the joints before tossing them into his mouth. The visitor sucked the bones clean, spitting out skin, muscle, tendon and blood before dropping the small bones into the top of his sack.

"P-p-please..." a whisper echoed in the darkness from behind where Jakob and his family were now suspended. "I'll... I'll do anything..." the soft voice of a young girl called out for help in the endless void.

The visitor sighed. "Seems my work is as of yet undone. I suppose I can still make my rounds to the others before moving on to the next. Soon, my dreamer. Soon you will have what is yours."

The being started to move towards the other shimmering lights in the distance, leaving behind the bodies of his new company, their teeth shimmering in the darkness. More and more whispers began to echo throughout as the visitor shuffled along, reaching another restrained families and repeating the process on them as he munched on the bones and teeth which he had already collected.

High in the sky above, a woman floats, restrained by unseen bonds. The lights of the families below shine upon her, their bones glistening as the darkness seeped out from them and into the woman's body which had been torn open and emptied of bones, muscles and organs alike. The Dreamer's eyes twitched behind closed lids as the visitor stripped the bones from the flesh of another family.

"Soon, yes, soon I shall repent. I shall repent to The Mother. Soon... I shall be forgiven my sins... soon I shall be reborn..."


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
The longing - The Comet

Should I do it? I don’t know what to believe anymore. My parents always called it having an overactive imagination, but the doctors always preferred to chalk it up to actual hallucinations, most likely just so that they could have an excuse to medicate me. But I know what I saw - what I see.

A comet, hanging high up in the sky. It’s the middle of the day and school is just starting to let out. I’m waiting for a child, but I don’t even know their name, yet I’ve been here hundreds if not thousands of times over. The boy gets into my car and starts to speak to me. No matter how his lips might move, his voice never reaches me; his words are always garbled and distant.

All I can focus on is the comet. I watch as it grows closer and then floats back further away. It’s as if it’s playing with me, but it feels more like a taunt. It knows that I can see it, but no matter how I try, I can’t tell anyone else in this world about it. The second I do, I’m back to reality, living my normal, boring, life just as I do every other day. Every time I snap back, I’m in the same second as I was before I fell into that dream, as if it had never even happened.

I never see the comet in my sleep, it’s only ever there when I’m awake, as if it can only watch me if my eyes are open. And yes, it watches me. That’s what those moments are, but I’ve no idea why it’s watching me. Why hasn’t anyone else seen it? Why is it that even though minutes or hours may pass in that world, but when I come back here nary a second has escaped me?

My first thought was that it was a demon, but I don’t know of any that torment you openly and almost exclusively during the day time. It’s eaten at me so much that I drive myself to that school every day after work. I drive there, and I wait for hours, just like in the visions. I’ll watch for every child that leaves the building, wondering if perhaps they have something to do with my visions. I’m certain by now that I’m on a number of watch-lists. I’m sure that several of the parents have noticed that no matter how often I come to the school, I never leave with anyone.

There’s probably reports on the daily about the strange man who waits for hours outside the school in his car, staring longingly up at the sky as he waits for a child that never comes. But I don’t really know what people think about me, and I honestly just don’t really care anymore. Even if they were to know what I was doing here, what I was waiting for, it wouldn’t change the way that they look at me. I’ve been alone for so much of my life for that very reason.

I press my forehead against the steering wheel and sigh. I come here every day and do the same thing hoping for a different outcome. Maybe I should just do it. Maybe I should just kill myself and figure out these visions after I’m dead. It’s not like anyone would miss me. What family I once had has already passed on. Maybe if I just ended it they’d be there waiting to embrace me with open arms. At least then I wouldn’t be alone anymore.

But then, there’s the kid… the child in my dream whose importance is lost with the empty echoes of his words. The more I think, and the harder that I try to piece it all together, the more that the answer seems to evade me.

I take a moment and pause. I hold my breath, close my eyes, and cross them. I feel the tension begin to build up in the center of my forehead as I release my breath and open my eyes to the familiar sight of my own two feet and the dirty brown floor of my car. When I was smaller, I used to think that being able to give myself headaches like this was some kind of superpower, the use of which I’d just never been able to figure out. I used to take comfort in the pain and the ringing that the act would bring. It was almost like a silence that would wash over me and take away any of the painful thoughts I’d been having. Now I simply relish in those memories of my own naivety.

I raise my head, only to find myself once more in the vision. Up above is my comet, watching me closely as it hurls towards the Earth. It stares at me as if I knew its secret, and I stare blankly back at it, assuring the thing that I’m actually clueless. This time something’s different. The vision is unlike the others I’ve had before, even if just slightly. It’s a feeling that I have, deep down inside of my chest. The comet continues to hurl towards me, this time, without reprieve. I hear a siren off in the distance which snaps me out of my usual daze. No matter what’s going on around me, I usually don’t notice it in these visions as I’m always focused on the comet and… the child.

It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time as he walks out of the school and turns to walk straight towards me. A smile is etched into his face, unwavering as his backpack bounces against his back with each heavy step that he takes towards me. I reach over for the interior door handle, hoping to open it for the boy. My heart pounds ferociously as my anxiety is overpowered by my desire to finally know.

He finally gets to the car, and before I can reach the handle, he opens it himself and plops down into the seat next to me. I lean back towards my own door, my hands crossed against my chest as my breathing intensifies.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” he asks, staring up at the sky. “To know the way that it’s all going to end, years before it ever even happens but still lacking the power to do anything about it.”

Tears begin to fill my eyes as my gaze moves slowly between the child and the comet up above. I want to speak, but my tongue is heavy and slippery in my own mouth. I try to move it forward, to force the air out of me in an attempt to make any kind of sound, but it simply slides back into my throat, choking me at every chance.

“How many times have you been here before? How many times have you wished for this exact moment without ever knowing the significance of your actions? How does it feel to finally have your wish? To finally be able to know the meaning of this whole song and dance?”

I finally have found someone who shares the same dream as me, and yet I’m frozen in this moment, once again unable to speak or act in any way. The longer I listen to his voice, the more speechless I become as I search for the strength to finally escape this place. I want to talk back. I want to ask him so many things. How does it feel to finally know? I don’t yet. I’m still searching for that answer, and it pains me far more than the visions ever have to finally be in this moment I’ve dreamed of and finding myself completely unable to question its significance.

The child shook his head, a sad expression slowly taking over his once joyous face. “This is no longer your dream, however. You wished for it so badly and for so long, that something which never should have been now is. You’ve brought something to this world whose wish has grown far more powerful than your own. And for that, I’d like to apologize. I never thought that giving you this moment of possibility would end up driving you to such lengths. I’m sorry, my child.”

I look back at my window as the comet grows closer and closer. The skyscrapers in the distance begin to crumble and melt as the comet’s weight begins to bear down on them. People outside of their vehicles fall to their knees in prayer as the skin begins to boil away from their flesh.

“It wants you, like its never wanted anything before, and its all because you desired it in such a way that nothing has ever been wanted for before.”

I look back at the child and then swallow hard. My hands shake as they move to the handle of the door. I feel the skin on my palms begin to boil as I push the metal door open.

“Even if you tried to run, nothing would change. You’ve brought this on yourself. The desire of man is a far greater power than other in this world. It has the greatest capacity for evil, and also the greatest capacity for hope.”

I nod my head, knowing that what the child said is true. I swing one of my legs out as I feel the full force of the comet’s heat. I pull myself out of the car and stare up at the comet, taking its full glory in for the first time, witnessing the full extent of my desire. A smile spreads across my face as we stare into each other, finally knowing the depth of this moment we share. At last, my voice returns to me and I manage to choke out my last few words before our long due embrace.

"This must be how it feels to have become God."


Dani California
Seen 22 Hours Ago
Posted 1 Week Ago
6,102 posts
15 Years
Oh cool new Hunger Emporium material! Skimming through The Visitor, I remember reading the original version of it long ago. It seems though you revised it since then, so I'll have to make time to give it another read sometime. For now though, The Comet!

All right, so what I gather is the narrator has this recurring dream of a comet and a child, and that comet is actually the narrator's desire to see the world burn. I guess it's true what they say, be careful what you wish for. I do like the description of everyone's flesh burning and all that near the end, gives a sense of that end of world ordeal actually happening.

A part of me do wonder why the narrator desired that outcome deep down. We get some commentary of how they don't care of the other people juding them while waiting at the school, but otherwise we don't know their thoughts on the world overall. Granted, that might make such a long commentary and maybe off tangent, but I guess what I'm saying is it would be nice to know the narrator's motivations more.
Miles Edgeworth
Foul Play [On Hiatus]


Don't let me disappear

Age 25
Seen 1 Day Ago
Posted 2 Days Ago
13,456 posts
8.2 Years
Oh cool new Hunger Emporium material! Skimming through The Visitor, I remember reading the original version of it long ago. It seems though you revised it since then, so I'll have to make time to give it another read sometime. For now though, The Comet!

All right, so what I gather is the narrator has this recurring dream of a comet and a child, and that comet is actually the narrator's desire to see the world burn. I guess it's true what they say, be careful what you wish for. I do like the description of everyone's flesh burning and all that near the end, gives a sense of that end of world ordeal actually happening.

A part of me do wonder why the narrator desired that outcome deep down. We get some commentary of how they don't care of the other people juding them while waiting at the school, but otherwise we don't know their thoughts on the world overall. Granted, that might make such a long commentary and maybe off tangent, but I guess what I'm saying is it would be nice to know the narrator's motivations more.
As always, thanks for the review, Bay! I appreciate you taking the time to always read my works when I manage to pull them out.

To be honest, I hadn't intended it to be anything deeper than a simple fixation on an element of a dream which ended up consuming him, but with your review I feel as if there is more that could have been done with the story. Perhaps when I rewrite it in the future I'll put more work into it and try to make it something deeper and more meaningful.