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chuckie101123 · 3 years

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"Wait a second, this can't be right..." the sub mutters, looking at their notes for the day. She turns to the class. "It says in your teachers notes that I'm supposed to be teaching you about 'human superpowers.' Does this sound familiar to any of you?"

The whole class turns to look at me currently trying to shove my tongue up my nose like Stitch. I look up. "Huh?" I ask, not hearing the question.

"Jack, do humans ... do humans have superpowers?" One of my classmates ask.

“Um, Jaia, your species can spit poison. We humans would consider that a superpower. You’ll have to be more specific,” I reply, unsure if I want to pursue this conversation.

“Um, how would he know about human superpowers?” she asks no one in particular. The class turns back to her.

“He’s a human,” one replies simply. Those few words, however, made a massive impact.

“W-w-what?” she asks, her tail turning bright green, her voice shaking and her five legs backpedaling herself away from me as fast as possible. Apparently my species reputation as juggernauts continues to precede us..

“Don’t worry, he’s a violent one, but he’s also pretty lazy, and he’s calm as long as he’s fed,” another classmate responds matter of factly. I just nod. It was easier to just agree and continue on with my day than try ad explain the human psychological spectrum to people still confused over the lack of change in our skin colors.

“Oh, um okay,” the sub responds, slowly recovering.

“Teach, superpowers?” I ask, trying to get the class back on track.

“Oh, right, um ... something called adrenaline rush?”

“Exists, gives us strength we couldn’t otherwise access, as well as speed and a survival boost that keeps us alive through heavy trauma,” I respond, already bored.

“Holy ...” I hear someone whisper.

“Humans can ... survive heavy trauma?” Another whispers to their neighbor.

“Yes. We can pretty much bleed out and survive, as long as our blood is replenished in time. Broken bones are easier to deal with. Hell, the strongest of us can survive even deadly poisons, though that mostly depends on our residence of origin.”

“Um, what about precognition?” the sub continues.

“That’s a harder topic to discuss. Most of us are capable of achieving what we call deja-vu. Basically we get a feeling that we’re currently in a situation that we feel we’ve been through before. Some of our youngest is capable of seeing the future through dreams, but their ability to explain these visions to someone else varies. During our more primal stage of development, we even worshiped those who claimed to receive visions from the gods, though it’s unclear if they were telling the truth or not.”

“Right, I forgot humans could lie,” another classmate mumbles, his species lacked the aspect of the brain that allowed lying. It didn’t stop him from manipulating the truth, though. Fucker still owes me a sandwich.

“What about...” the sub continues, puzzling over the next question. “... iron man?” I gain a puzzled look of my own.

“Iron Man or iron armor?”

“It says iron man,”

“Capital ‘I’ in ‘Iron’ and ‘M’ in ‘Man’ or all lowercase?”

“Capitals,”

“Okay, well capital Iron Man doesn't actually exist. He’s a superhero humans imagined up oh... two hundred years ago? Still pretty popular actually, through his popularity took a plunge during the feminist revolution. ANYWAY, iron men lower-case did exist, though they weren’t called iron men. They were our soldiers and knights who wore armor out of metals, metals like the kind used for your ships.”

“So what?” someone exclaims loudly from the back. “If thta’s all you humans have, it’s a wonder you haven’t been eater yet.”

I don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. Chad. Chad isn’t actually the fucker’s name, but I can’t be bothered to try and pronounce his real name, which takes three tongues and a pair of mandibles to say, and the fucker acted like a Chad. Cocky, large, and stupid. Imagine a cross between a minotaur and a cockroach: that’s Chad. Just like a minotaur, he’s bull-headed and stubborn, and just like a cockroach, he survives everything only to come right back for another beating. It’d almost be admirable if it wasn’t so annoying.

“Well Chad, if you bothered to pay attention to anything besides your own ego, you’d know that humans have a lot more than that,” I hear someone pipe up. I turn in surprise, as this is the first time someone else besides me ever talked back to him. Huh. Would you look at that? Another human.

“Good morning class. This is Jessica Valdez, she’ll be joining your class tomorrow,” Mr. Maera states, his hand never leaving the blaster at his side and his eyes never leaving the back of her head.

“Hello Ms. Valdez, Mr. Maera. Unfortunately, Mr. Maeve is out sick today but-” the sub tries before being interrupted.

“YOU ARROGANT LITTLE ... !” Chad roars, rising from his seat to charge at the new arrival. I rise from mine, ready to stop him, only to stop short at the sight of him already on the ground with the new arrival’s foot on his throat. The owner of said foot seemed to be ignoring the blaster pointed at her head.

“Let him go, Valdez,” Mr. Maera warns. She spares him a glance before realeasing her prey. Chad get’s up to his feet, rubbing at his neck.

“This isn’t over you little Vlacka,” he states, making a few of our classmates gasp and Mr. Maera pale. Valdez only smiles.

“Chad, you need to apologize right fucking now,” I say quietly, making my classmates back up quickly and Mr. Maera shift his blaster to aim at me.

“Or what, Vlacka? What are you going to do?”

I start moving foward. “The reason we humans are so universally feared? It isn’t because of our strength, Chad.”

“Jack,” Maera warns.

“It isn’t our speed, or our intelligence you so terribly fear,” I continue, still maintaining my slow pace. “It isn’t our weaponry that allowed us to tear through your planet like a hurricane and slaughter your people by the millions.”

“Jack!” Maera warns again, louder this time. By this point I’m toe-to-toe with Chad, his face fighting between paling with fear and reddening with rage.

“It’s our tenacity. It’s the fact that when ignorant shits like you grow too arrogant to know your place, we pick a target and pursue. We don’t stop, we don’t eat, sleep, or drink until our prey is dying at our feet. There is nowhere you can run that we won’t find you, not the frozen wastes of Zorah nor the burning plains of Algesh will make us hesitate in hunting you. And when you can’t run any longer, when you’re dying of exhaustion and thirst and you’re begging for mercy, only then will we decide to grant you the peace of death.”

My voice never rose beyond conversation level, and besides staring him in the eye less than a foot from his face I made no aggressive movements. By this point, Chad’s face had chosen pale, and he looked down in submission, unable to meet my eyes.

“The biggest difference between my species and yours, Chad? We’ll fight for our own kind to the last man, so long as we have a common enemy to pursue. Your kind won’t.” He looks up in surprise before turning to the six other members of his species among our classmates, looking for support he would never find. Once again, he looks down in shame.

“Now, I believe you owe someone an apology. Or would you prefer war?”

****

The next day, class begins as usual. Maeve was back and getting ready to teach class. He gives me nod as I walk in the door which I return before finding my seat. I lay my head down while I wait for class to begin. I can hear noises as people shuffle in talking to their friends. Most of them quiet down a bit at noticing my head down, believing me to be sleeping.

I continue to wait until something abnormal happens. A bag plops down into the seat next to mine, a seat that had remained empty since the start of the semester when the previous owner was sent home hysterical after a single class of me quietly sitting next to him. I look up at the strange bag before I hear a voice.

“Hi, I’m Jessica. Jessica Valdez,” the voice says. I look up further to see the human girl from yesterday holding her hand out. I grab it gently and shake before releasing, resting my head on my arms and looking forward. She gives me a strange look before shaking her head and sitting down, opening her notebook to take notes. Class continued on pretty much as expected. Chad was a bit quiet, Mr. Maeve introduced himself to Jessica before giving starting his lecture, but besides that it was normal.

Eventually, the bell rings and we all start to pack our things. As I was getting ready to leave, a hand on my arm stopped me.

“Hey, I never did thank you for helping me yesterday,” Jessica says, her hand never leaving my arm.

“Don’t mention it,” I reply, turning to leave. Once again, her hand stops me.

“You know, I never did catch you name,” she tries again. This time, it was my turn to look at her strangely before realizing she was right.

“Reaper. My name’s Jack Reaper,” I said, turning to face her fully.

“Well Jack, maybe as thanks I can treat you to lunch? I could use a guide, seeing as how I’m new and all,” she tries still. I sigh.

“Fine, come on,” I say, turning to leave once more, this time followed by a stubborn human girl with a grin on her face.

Being a human in human studies class, you’re often asked to confirm information.

#spaceorcs #humans #amazing #badass #writingprompts #aliens #violent #possibleromance

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chuckie101123 · 3 years

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A teacher was working with a group of children, trying to broaden their horizons through sensory perception.

She brought in a variety of lifesavers and said,”Children, I’d like you to close your eyes and taste these.” The kids easily identified the taste of cherries, lemons and mint, but when the teacher gave them honey-flavored lifesavers, all of the kids were stumped. “I’ll give you a hint,” said the teacher. “It’s somethin your mommy and daddy probably call each other all the time.” Instantly, Little Johnny coughed his onto the floor and shouted, “Quick! Spit’em out! They’re assholes

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chuckie101123 · 4 years

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“I figured they were all insane, like the cops did. The marks they left behind, the carvings, it all pointed to a satanistic murder cult. The bodies they left behind were all mutilated to the point that we needed dna testing to find out what kind of animal it was from. We couldn't use size because when they started a mutilation fest, everyone joined in. And from the bodily fluids they left behind, it seemed they enjoyed an orgy along with it. None of us even considered the possibility...

The cops couldn’t get close to them, ever. They were all too loyal to their cause. They couldn’t find a snitch, and they couldn’t plant one of their own. Eventually, one of them came up with the bright idea to call me up. I was a cop, once. Had retired six years before I got the call, saying they needed help with one last case. I was bored, figured why the hell not, and drove in the next morning. When I entered, I entered into a madhouse that was nothing like the station I had left. It seemed like everyone and their brother was there, everyone shouting and running around at once. Then they caught a glimpse of me, and all of a sudden, it was silent. The chief poked his head out of his office to see what caused the sudden change, and paled when he saw me.

I suppose I should explain. Before I left and retired, I had a reputation around the station. Put simply, I was violent and unorthodox. I didn’t care about social niceties much, always thought of them as too frustrating to deal with. As such, I came across more often than not as a dick. Pissed a lot of people off with my carefree attitude too, a lot of powerful people. Eventually some of them tried to get me fired on accounts of illegal activities. No one could get the charges to stick. See I was a well-known asshole, but I was good at my job. I was violent, but never more violent than was legal. I wasn’t racist, wasn’t greedy, and was always ready to help out someone in need. (Hey, I told you, I didn’t care about social niceties, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help out a kid who’s car broke down on the side of the road.)

Anyway, when the brass up top couldn’t bring me down the legal way, a few of the more immoral ones tried to take me down the hard way. I sent every one of their men to the hospital with varying injuries, six of whom are still in a coma and twelve more who have to be fed with a straw. Again, the brass tried to get me fired for excessive violent behavior, but as it was in self-defense, the charges wouldn’t stick. Over the next three years, I personally put twenty six of those corrupt bastards behind bars. I doubt I got all of them, but no one has messed with me since.

Anyway, back to the station. So the chief sees me, pales like he just shit out all his blood, and rushes to greet me. Turns out, I recognize the dude. The guy was just a deputy when I left, must’ve done well for himself to have gotten his title. I already didn’t like him, but I did my best to keep myself in check, as he already looked terrified enough. After greetings, he took me to his office and explained the situation.

Forty-two occurrences in the last two months, all involving what looked like violent blood-baths and massive orgies between around thirty or so members. No member had been caught, no DNA matches, nothing. Nothing, except, a symbol, always placed in the very center of the presumably very exciting events. The symbol was that of a crescent moon lying point side down on top of a sun with a half circle taken out of the side closest to the moon, and there was a four-point star lying in the gap between the two, almost like it was being sheltered or protected somehow.

No evidence, no witnesses, and no leads would make for a difficult case, and I told him as such. In response, he placed a picture on the desk in front of me, and explained that the woman shown was believed to have something to do with it. I recognized her, Alicia Cortez. She was a nice girl, late twenties, who worked in a grocery store in the downtown area. I had caught her out late one night in the pouring rain and offered a ride. On the way to her home, I got to know her a little better.

She grew up in New Jersey with an abusive father and a junkie mother. She told me that at first, she seemed like she was on a path that would lead her to follow in her mother’s footsteps, using dangerous and powerful substances to fill the ache inside her. Thankfully, a kid helped her see just how far she had fallen, and she packed up and moved to our town that same week. I wanted to ask her more, but by the time I figured out how to phrase the question and opened my mouth, we had already arrived at her house. She thanked me quickly, and ran inside to escape the rain. It seemed strange, but I shrugged it off and drove home. That was eighteen months ago, two months before I got the call.

Once I saw the picture, I started to wonder if I shouldn’t have pressed further. Deputy O’Ryan, or now, Chief O’Ryan, told me that the incidents had started soon after she arrived in town. They said her neighbors had reported strange sounds coming from her apartment, but every time police arrived, the sounds had stopped and no evidence to anything resembling what the neighbors heard could be found. I told the chief I’d look into it, and went home.

Few weeks later, I “ran into” her at the grocery store where she worked at and asked her if she’d like to join me for lunch. As we talked, I noticed she was very pleasant. Not “uninterested in the conversation”, but more mischievous “What do you think you know” pleasant. Eventually, our conversation moved onto her past again. I tried to press gently on what made her change her life around. She smiled in triumph, and even though the damage was already done, I tried to back peddle. It didn’t work. Still though, she answered my questions.

She explained that the child that changed her life introduced her to his religion, an unorthodox and still recently established Carnagism. She went on further to vaguely explain how the god they worshiped, Carnage, was not quite how the name suggested. She was not evil, or violent, nor did she encourage such traits in her followers. Instead, she encouraged freedom in its truest form. No prejudice, no discrimination, no worries. “Does that include no laws?” I remember asking. Her only answer was a smirk. It was clear to me that I wouldn’t get an answer to that question, so I tried to change topic, asking instead what her religion had done to help her life? After all, if it was appealing enough to get her to pack up and move so quickly, surely the benefits must be amazing? Rather than answer, she instead invited me to her next worshiping session to find out for myself.

And so began my dilemma, do I agree and join her for what might be my own murder, mutilation, and possibly corpse-rape, or refuse and give up the case? For my stubborn, dumb ass self, their was only one option. I accepted.

Fast forward two days, and I find myself in the woods, hand in hand with over seventy other people as we skip around a massive bonfire in a clearing in the woods I swear wasn’t there the day before. All of us are buck-ass naked, covered in paint, mud, and blood from the desecrated corpses of hundreds of birds, squirrels, rabbits, foxes, and field rats. I realized why the bodies were so hard to identify: because these cultists used nearly every part of the corpse, beyond what a normal hunter would. The feathers, each indivual hair, each bone, brain, musclefiber, and organ, all used in their rituals. We fed on the meat and organs, and dressed ourselves in the rest, excluding the pelvic bones of all the females. Those were tossed into the fire we all skipped around, shrieking, laughing, and chanting as we summoned what I had assumed to be another made up god.

I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

As we shrieked and sang and chanted in a strange language I could never quite catch, the fire suddenly exploded outward, the flames rushing across our bodies, touching but never burning. A few of the more recent recruits like myself shrieked and tried to recoil in fear, but we were stopped by the tight grips of the members on either side of us. We tried fighting back until we realized we weren’t hurt by the flames, and we looked to the flames first in wonder and curiosity before our expressions turned to those of fear and wonder. For there, before our very eyes stood figures in the flames of every hue and color. Beings of pure fire, beautiful and proud, took their steps across the edge of the fire towards the cultists.

I stared in wonder at the sight before me, these beautiful and terrifying beings, as one by one they stood in front of a cultist. For simplicity's sake, let’s call them elementals. No two elementals were the same, some didn’t even look human, despite their flaming appearance. Some had what looked like animal heads, others had appendages added and subtracted in weird ways (one had feet for arms and arms for legs and a tail attached to the back of their neck), a few just seemed like floating flames with no features of any kind, and others still just were. They were like the air above hot tarmac, you could see the shimmer and could feel the heat but could see no definite features.

It took me a moment before I realized one of the elementals had stopped before me. Whereas the other elementals were larger, almost adult sized or even bigger, mine was tiny like a fairy might be. She floated in the air before my face, gazing intently at me until I looked at her, and then she smiled. Not the forced smile I was used to seeing, nor the pity smile a mother might show a child who brandishes a mud pie in his hands, nor even the full grin you’d see on that very child’s face. No, the elemental before me smiled a gentle smile, full of only kindness and love, as if she were a mother smiling at a child who returned home after losing their way. Her smile made me feel safe, and warm, like everything was going to be okay.

I couldn’t help it, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I cried. I wanted so badly to apologize to her and thank her and welcome her to this hellish world. So many emotions and needs arose within me at the sight of her gentle smile that I just collapsed in joy and grief and anger. Every suppressed memory, every lost moment I’ve ever had came rushing to my mind. I relived my horrible childhood life, suffering every beating my father gave me, breaking as my mother screamed that I was worthless and would never amount to anything. I relived all those painstaking study sessions, trying to do meet their expectations, but also trying to meet my own. I relived my old friendships, all my romantic relationships, every argument, every peaceful or proud moment. I relived my fistfight with my father and my last argument with my mother before they both died. I remembered every day I’ve ever had, and relived each as if they were occurring at that very moment all at once. And then I relived more recent days. Peaceful walks in the park after retiring, kind conversations I had with people around my neighborhood, excited grins from kids waving to me as I passed. I relived my conversations with Alicia about the goddess she worshipped, Carnage was not a god of violence and destruction, but of chaos and freedom.

And I understood. Carnage was not a goddess of lawlessness. She did not encourage the mutilations of animals for fun, but to teach the value of each individual piece. Carnage represented a peaceful freedom, without corruption to spoil it. Hatred, fear, joy, worry, her followers were free to experience all without judgement. They were not condemned for who they loved, nor were they discouraged from loving as much as they could as often as they could. With Carnage, the strange or different weren’t just permitted as they were everywhere else. They were accepted. There weren’t any personal definitions or social cliques, They just were, free to be as passionate and loving as they desired to be.

With that realization, the memories slowed to a trickle, the last few days before the ritual playing softly and slowly until I caught up with the present. When I did, I noticed three things. One, I was kneeling on the floor with my head in my hands, tears still flowing gently down my cheeks as my nose ran. Two, the small elemental was beside me, her tiny hand rest gently on my cheek, flames licking at the stubble from my beard. Three, she wasn’t alone.

In front of me kneeled another elemental, adult size this time, though still female. She faced me with her hands on my shoulders, holding me as I sobbed. When I had finally stopped crying enough to see her clearly, I saw her face. She was even more beautiful than all the rest, and while the others looked like they were made from the flames, she looked like the flames were made from her. Every feature was more defined, from her angled, kind eyes to her soft, supple lips to her delicate, nimble fingers and toes. She was just as nude as the rest of us, but it was not her body that held my attention, but her eyes. For in them I saw the history of mankind, all the fury and bloodlust but also the love and compassion. And those kind yet terrible eyes looked at me with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

“You remember,” she said, not a question but as a statement. Even so, I nodded in answer. “Do you know who I am?” I shook my head. “I am the goddess you have worshiped this night. I am Carnage.”

“Hi...” I said in a small voice, making her smile.

“You have a way with words, child,” she teased.

“Sorry,” I apologized, looking down in shame.

“Do not apologize, young one,” she whispered, lifting my head. “It is a part of who you are, what makes you unique.”

She started to rise, lifting me up with her. She smiled at me once more before turning to see the other cultists. She held herself up tall as she made her way back to the bonfire, no longer roaring as it had been. Those she passed bowed, but did not kneel. When she reached the edge of the fire, she stopped and turned to once again face me.

“Tonight, my children, we celebrate! For we have helped your new brother remember!” she exclaimed to the crowd, as a roar of joy rose up from the other cultists. “Tomorrow, we celebrate once again, for I have returned to this beautiful and terrible world! Tomorrow, we will right was has been wronged, and rebirth the ugliness of the Allmother with her former beauty!”

“TILL THE DAWN!!!” a roar rose from the cultists, as if a battle cry had sung.

That night, I danced with my brothers and sisters, loved them as only I could, ate as I wished, and celebrated the return of Carnage.

You are an investigator on the trail of a cult who worships an eldritch horror. You infiltrate them as a new follower. After months of espionage you reach the inner circle and discover the creature is real. You also find it instills good values and greatly improves the lives of its followers.

#carnage #tillthedawn #writingprompts

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chuckie101123 · 4 years

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The Cult of Carnage

I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Hi...” I said in a small voice, making her smile.

“You have a way with words, child,” she teased.

“Sorry,” I apologized, looking down in shame.

“Do not apologize, young one,” she whispered, lifting my head. “It is a part of who you are, what makes you unique.”

“TILL THE DAWN!!!” a roar rose from the cultists, as if a battle cry had sung.

That night, I danced with my brothers and sisters, loved them as only I could, ate as I wished, and celebrated the return of Carnage.

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chuckie101123 · 4 years

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I am Nobody, the Forgotten God of Nothing

They never saw me as a threat, the poor fools. The other gods demanded offerings to appease their wrath. They would grant boons to exceptional mortals, and remind any foolish mortals who dared to slander their name just how powerful they truly were. And the mortals followed them, for what could they do against a god who could kill them with a single touch?

But only the weak try to prove their power. The gods needed the mortals' faith and devotion to exist, for without it they were powerless. But I was different.

While the gods of thunder and lightning waged war in the skies, letting loose thundering roars to prove to the mortals of their existence, I sat quietly among the trees, watching a naive child enjoy the crispness of an apple's skin as it broke between his teeth.

As the gods of war laughed in glee as the mortals fled before their unholy battles, I ran beside the mortals, taking away their feelings of pain and fear to allow them to run further without stopping.

And while the goddesses of ice swept across the land with their storms of snow and hail, I swept the land before them, warning the mortals of the frostcoming.

I did not do these things out of fear, or even curiosity, but out of pity. For I was present as the soul of every child of mother earth transitioned from life to death. I was there to remember the names of the forgotten who would roam the lands in anguish, never to be seen.

The other gods were immortal so long as the mortals remembered them to be, but I was not like the others, for my galactal power, originally fuelled by the vast void of space, only grew as each memory faded away into nothingness. I would watch as civilizations rose and fell, their pantheons rising to power and falling just as quick.

I would be there as life was extinguished before the presence of each death, and I would weep for the forgotten nobodies and nothings.

No, the mortals and gods alike saw me alone as my title suggested, Nothing. But they did not know that it would be I, not Death, that would claim them all in the end.

You ask who I am, young child of Silas the forgotten? I am Nobody, the Forgotten God of Nothing. And I will be there to watch over your father, your mother, and eventually you, long after Death has released your soul from your mortal bonds. I will love you as my children as Life never could, protect you as Death never should, and care for you as your mother and father would.

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chuckie101123 · 4 years

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I am the God of War

It was all fine until the fucker tried to stab me. At first, I figured it was just gonna be another bar brawl like the kind back home. I didn't expect the bastard to pull out a fucking sword! Course, that's when the military training kicked in.

At first, I just planned on disarming him, but by the time I finished, the poor bastard was a bloodstain on the floor, as was the fifty guards that tried to stop me. My body was littered with cuts and scrapes from the battle, including a few that were dangerously close to life-threatening, but after cleaning and bandaging the wounds, then taking a few antibiotics to prevent infection, I came out alive and ready for another round.

A local took me in, helped me with my wounds, and offered me food and shelter, always with a look of reverence in his eyes. I couldn't understand a word he said, my translator was broken in the fight, but when I tried to offer him something as thanks, he refused.

The more I tried, the harder he resisted, until I started getting angry. I don't like to owe people debts, you see, and when the anger in my voice started in to increase, the fear in his rose as well. He kept babbling in his Greek, and it wasn't until I tried to calm down and listen that I realized he was just saying the same word over and over, or rather, the same name.

“Ares!”

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chuckie101123 · 4 years

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The Voices in My Head

It had gone on for my entire life, as far as I could tell. The voices. They would always argue, always. I tried talking to my teacher about it once. The next day, my parents were taken away from me. You see, she thought it was my parents who argued, saying the things I heard. It wasn't. The voices, they were mine.

But as a child, I knew I couldn't tell anyone about them. They might take something else away from me. So I stayed quiet. I didn't let anyone know about the voices, or the headaches they brought due to their arguing. I didn't dare even risk taking medicine for the pain, for fear someone would find out. I jumped from foster home to foster home, never letting anyone get close. Each time I moved, it was because something terrible had happened.

The first time, I had been in bed trying to sleep when I snapped, and finally screamed at the voices. My scream scared my foster parents downstairs, causing my foster father to lose his grip on the hammer he was swinging, which hit my foster mother in the face. My foster father rushed her to the hospital, forgetting about me and the stove that was boiling water for the pasta she was making. When he reached the hospital, he remembered me and rushed home.

In the place of the house he lived in for over ten years stood a burning inferno, with three trucks trying to put it out. I was still stuck inside. The firefighters eventually found me in the rubble after it had already burned down. I was covered in third degree burns, but I was miraculously still alive. My foster father was arrested for child negligence, my foster mother's still in a coma from the hammer, and so, after twelve successful surgeries, I was relocated.

Similar occurrences happened several more times. Car crashes, more fires, armed robberies, even a flood. I was the miracle survivor, but also had the worst luck according to the Social workers. Police once arrested me thinking I may have been the cause of these accidents, but eventually realized they had no evidence to support this. And still, the voices argued. And still, I told no one.

It was on my 18th birthday that I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I had already been living on the streets for two years, after having run away from my last foster home. For a homeless dude, I had done pretty well for myself. I had a decent sleeping spot under a rarely used bridge, a running river nearby for washing, and the city was only an hour long walk away. But the pain. The pain I could no longer deal with. My head had hurt my entire life thanks to the voices.

But that day, that pain would end, and so would the voices. I had found a gun on the side of the streets about a week back, probably used by some thug to rob a liquor store. I had briefly considered robbing a liquor store myself before waiting for the cops to arrive to put me out of my misery. But I was already taking the cowards way out, I might as well have it be done by my hand. But before I did, I decided I would splurge a bit.

My last day on Earth would be better than the last two years. I dug up my old coffee can where I stashed my money, about $500, and went shopping. First, I went to the store to buy some soaps and decent but cheap clothes. I then went to the local high school and paid the custodian $100 to let me take a good shower in the locker room. I got dressed, thanked the man, then went to a barber shop to get my hair cut and beard trimmed.

I paid $10 for the cut, $20 for the tip, and went on my way. By that point, it was bearing midday, so I decided on lunch. Kara's Burgers and Fries was the best diner in the city, though they had never let me inside do to my appearance and smell. That day, though, they didn't even recognize me. They sat me down, and allowed me to eat my fill. I ordered two Triple Burgers, four large fries, three strawberry shakes, and got a large root beer for the road.

The voices still argued, but today it didn't bother me as much. I still had about four hours before nightfall, so I walked uptown a bit to the arcade, wasting the rest of my day playing games and enjoying my life as a kid my age should have. When night fell, I walked home, back to my little bridge, with a smile on my face. "Today was good." I thought to myself as I uncovered my gun, making sure it was loaded before raising it to my mouth. "Tomorrow will be better."

I don't remember pulling the trigger. I don't remember pain, or a loud noise, or a flash of light. I do remember, though, a quietness. For the first time since I could remember, the voices were silent. The pain that had been present all my life... was gone. If I could have cried, I think I would have. But alas, the dead have no tear ducts.

Suddenly, I could hear beeping. "Damn, now there's a beeping too?" I thought. Slowly, I started coming to, a bright light filtering through my closed eyelids. I could feel a soft substance under me, cool to the touch and smoother than riverstone. "Am I on a mattress?" I thought. I slowly opened my eyes to a white ceiling. The room I was in was kind of small, and I could smell the chemicals used to sterilize it in the air. But for some reason, I wasn't scared or worried.

At first, all I felt was confusion, and confusion about why I was confused. Then I realized, "Where are the voices?" A door to the room opened, admitting a fairly young woman in what looked like a lab coat and scrubs.

"Oh, you're awake," she exclaimed, looking up from the clipboard in her hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Calm," I respond. "What happened?"

"A man was walking his dog when he heard a gunshot. His dog took off, and when the man found her, she was with you.You had a bullet hole in your skull, and a gun was laying nearby. He called an ambulance, and they brought you here. Honestly, we all thought you were dead when they walked you in. It's an absolute miracle you're still alive, much less awake," she responded as she moved to my side, fiddling with my arm and head.

"Yeah, a miracle," I said, thoughtfully. Honestly, after surviving most of my accidents, I thought I was cursed. This was the first time the voices had stopped. Maybe, this time, it really was a miracle.

"I need to go find Dr. Rhazul. He's the doctor in charge of you while you're here. Please, just lie down and try to get some rest. You're stable for now, but we'd rather not take any chances.”

"Okay," I responded as she walked out of the room.

"How are you feeling, really?" a voice asked right beside me. Jumping I turned to find two of the most beautiful people I had ever seen staring at me intently. They both wore long trench coats, but that was where the similarities ended. The one who spoke was a man who looked timeless. He had milk chocolate colored skin, golden eyes, and wore his black cornrowed hair in a thick ponytail. What really struck me as odd was how familiar his voice was.

"Well?" the other person asked, and I turned to look at her. She was just as beautiful as the man, with fiery red hair and clear blue eyes, her skin was pale but tanned, like she had spent some time in the sun. Her voice sounded just as familiar.

"Um, I feel fine. Who are you two?" I asked.

"Figures, I told you he wouldn't remember us!" the woman exclaimed at her partner.

Her volume made me shrink into the pillow behind me in fear. This caught the attention of the man, who addressed her sharply. "Keep your voice down, Rali. We don't want to hurt him any more than we already have."

She glanced at me shrinking back in fear, and sighed. "Your right. I'm sorry. My name is Rali, and this is Raja. Put simply, we are your ... Guardians." Her apology made me feel a bit safer, but the words that followed didn't.

"What do you mean, guardians? I'm emancipated. Have been for the past two years," I responded, the suspicion evident in my voice.

"Emancipated, yes. But we've still looked over you during that time and before. In fact, we've been watching over you your entire life. We just did a poor job of it," the man said with shame in his eyes.

"My entire-" I started before it struck me. His voice, it was one of the voices I always heard arguing! And hers, hers was the other!

Before I could tell, the woman interrupted. "Please, let us explain." And so, they told me everything. How the two of them were guardian angels, how a mishap had them both logged as my guardians, how they both had different methods of protecting me. They told me that they were the ones that had kept me alive for so long, protecting me from the dangers around me. They admitted that it was their negligence that forced me to face danger in the first place.

They told me how they thought they were still doing good, even after all of these years. They explained that it wasn't until they saw the gun in my hand with the barrel in my mouth that they realized just how badly they had screwed up. They explained, and they apologized for all the pain they had caused me throughout my life.

They promised that they would do much better, working together to help fix the damage they had caused, if I would still accept them as my guardians. I sat there through their entire story, shocked. Here I was being told that there were powerful paranormal beings who were supposed to protect me, and all I could feel was anger. These two beings had tormented me my entire life and it was only after I had decided to end it all that they were sorry?!

But I was never one to lash out, never one to speak in anger. Instead, I worked on calming myself down before speaking. "What happens if I refuse?" I ask, trying to buy myself more time.

The two looked shocked before looking at each other and then back at me with grim looks. "Then we return home to report, you receive a new Guardian, and we are punished for our negligence," Raja answers.

"Punishment we more than deserve," Rali adds.

I thought about my options hard. On one hand, these two idiots were responsible for most of the my suffering throughout my entire life. On the other, they had now hopefully learned their lesson and I could now yell at them if they started arguing again. "Would you two stay as you are now, or remain as voices in my head?" I question.

"Technically, you were never supposed to know we existed. Hearing our voices at all was another mistake on our part. But seeing how badly we already screwed up, I suppose the decision lies with you," Raja answered nervously.

"Is there any way you could help my current situation out any? I mean I am homeless with no money and not much of a future," I ask. If not, then I was kind of stuck no matter what I chose.

My spirits slightly rose, however, when Rali grinned, "Technically no, however we do have connections with some of the other guardians, including those who watch over your birth parents and foster parents."

Raja grinned as well, "It turns out you are set to receive quite a bit of money due to various lawsuits and insurance policies. No one could informed you about them because no one could find you."

This was a lot to process. "So? Will you still accept us as your Guardians?" Rali asked nervously. I looked at the hope in her eyes, before turning and seeing the hope in his.

I took a deep breath before answering, "Nope." Their faces fell as I smiled. "Just kidding. I accept, but I have a few conditions. First, no more arguing, especially in my head. I'm done with that headache," I stopped, making sure they nodded in understanding before I continued. "Second, you two will remain appearing like you do now. It's easier to talk to you if people around me don't think I'm crazy." Again they nodded. "And three, you two are going to help me get my life back on track, no matter what it takes, understand?" Again, the two nodded. "Good," I smile.

And then we talked, about their home and what it was like, about what kind of treats we would have when we got out. We laughed together after the doctors came back in, scaring Rali a bit to the point that she fell out of the chair. I grinned as Raja chuckled, Rali cursing both of us while she picked herslef up off the florr.

As I look at these two morons responsible for most of the suffering in my life, I can’t help but feel happy. For the first time in my life, I was glad I could hear the voices. For the first time, I felt truly at peace.

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