musingofafish

[musingofafish]

The Unrequited love

There are countless stories about unrequited love. Some speak of the hope of moving on or a secret change in the person they desire. Others speak of the horrors of living with the feeling, likening to a disease that kills you slowly. I found none of them quite capture just how subtle of a demon love can be. 

    When I first met her, she was just another face in the crowds of my everyday life. A smile that vaguely registered as attractive, but not a person I would dare pursue. She was the one who made the first move, sneaking into my daily life. It didn’t matter what I did, going out with friends for a meal, seeking supplies for my hobbies, she always seemed to show up. I still remember the first honest conversation we had. I was a couple drinks in, sitting alone on the back porch as the party raged on inside.

    As I heard the door slide open behind me I prepared myself to get an earful from my friends for stepping out and making them leave the fun. Instead she gently drifted in beside me, leaning on the rail with a sigh of relief. I raised an eyebrow to look over her, that sweet smile turning on me as she noticed my gaze. “I was afraid I would be judged for coming out here, but if you’re here it must be alright.” I chuckled and shrugged, “I don’t know about alright from how the others usually react when they notice I’m not with them, but I never cared enough to stop.” Her laugh danced over to me, I spared another glance to soak in her smile as she gazed over the dark lawn, “You’re bold. I like that. Maybe you should teach them to see things our way.” It wasn’t a question when she said it. We spent the rest of the night on that porch, finally getting to know each other. As I watched her through the dim lights I knew I was in love.

    In the days to follow I found myself becoming more aware of her presence, seeking her out in crowds and looking for excuses to spend time with her. As I grew closer to her it felt more like we were two parts of the same soul, cut from each other by some ancient wrath. I never dared to tell her how she overwhelmed my every waking moment, afraid to scare her away with my obsession. Even as I started inviting her over and she became a regular in my own home, we never used the word love or even labeled what we had with each other. 

    One night as we lazed around in my living room I started reminiscing about times before I knew her. After telling her a story from my childhood with my oldest friend she gave me a confused look, “I know silly, I was there! Don’t you remember, we’ve always been together. You just didn’t pay that much attention to me back then.” I paused and looked back at her, was it possible she was there? I clearly remember my friend helping carry me home as I limped with a broken ankle, but was there someone else. As if a fog lifted from my mind it hit me, someone else had my other arm, it had to be her. We laughed it off, but in the back of my mind I could feel turmoil as I struggled with my own memories. How could I forget her, especially from a memory like that?

    Before I saw her again I spent time pouring over my childhood memories, searching through pictures saved from family albums and old diaries. I looked in awe as I saw her in nearly every one, off in the background so she was barely noticeable, but there nonetheless. Even pictures of me as a toddler had another young child running just behind me like a shadow. Picking up toys I seemed to abandon and chasing after me with perfect loyalty. As I scanned through the pages of my diary I found her name littered throughout the pages. She had truly always been with me, and somehow I blocked her out from every single memory until now.

    When I next invited her over without my friends around, it was a special day for me. An anniversary I was certain only I could know about, but I tested her regardless. “You know, today’s kinda special for me.” I drawled out lazily as I looked at her lying upside down on the sofa. She smiled up at me, her usual excitement glinting in her eyes, but something else tainted the typically pure gaze. “Oh, I know all about that. I was there too.” I must have allowed the confusion to slip onto my face as I watched her, because she giggled watching me. Her laugh was emptier than before darker. “You look cute like that, not my favorite look. I much prefer the look you have when you… well, you know.” she laughed again, flipping around and standing to approach me properly. “You don’t believe me do you? I can describe what happened for you.”

    I swallowed harshly, trying to decide if she was bluffing. “Fine, tell me why today matters to me.” I said firmly, watching her bounce with excitement. Another dark laugh filled the room as she smiled wickedly at me, “Because, today was our first. We didn’t mean to, not really. But she was just so cute! And she never loved us back, why would she? She fell down, hitting her head on that rock and letting all that pretty crimson flow out. The blood that flowed through her heart, something she thought you weren’t worthy of. It was just an accident really, but that look in her eyes as everything faded away, that was something truly magical. She deserved it anyway, and so does the young man you have in the closet over there.”

    I quickly glanced back to the closest that held my next victim, “How did you?” I was sure I collected him alone, she couldn’t have been there. I was always careful not to be seen. How would she know he was in there anyway, I hid everything away before she got here. She tilted her head, capturing a lock of her gorgeous hair in her hand. “You still don’t get it do you.” She came closer and lifted my chin with her hand, “I’m you. Not all of you, I’m the good parts of you. Not all the disgusting parts that make up the rest of you, not the parts that led us down this road of rejection.”

    I stiffened in her hold, slowly recognizing the form in front of me. “No...How could you be here?!” I shouted, shoving her off of me and storming to the bathroom. She was right on my heels, giggling endlessly as she watched me panic. “Oh don’t be such an idiot. I mean, I know you are, but try to be more like me for once.” I reached the door and went to open it before her delicate hand closed over my own, effectively holding the door in place. “Do you really want to do that? You’re so pathetic that you love me, do you want to risk losing me? Wouldn’t you rather go play?” I faltered, looking back to her calm eyes, I felt like she could see right through me, and in a way I was right.

    I stepped back and considered her, even if she was me, I loved her like no one else and I knew she had no choice but to accept me. Even though her venomous words, she would never leave me. I nodded, stepping away from the bathroom and into her waiting embrace. She gently caressed my face, leaning in to whisper into my ear, “Now go show me your true strength. Do what creatures like you are built for and dispose of that failure of a man.” I nodded and walked out, entering the small room that the closet door hid from any visitors.

    As I slowly disposed of the man she circled me, whispering encouragement into my ear and laughing with delight. I felt blessed by her smile, her loving words. I decided then and there that I will always work to please her, providing any joy I can so I can hear that musical laugh. Even if I hear officers forcing their way into our sanctuary we have it all planned out so she can bathe in her favorite color one last time. I would sacrifice it all to hear her whispers to me as she delights in the crimson gift from my own heart, only then will I be worthy of her love.

[musingofafish]

Outside the Window

It didn’t sound bad when you first agreed to the deal, everything you can ever imagine but you lose contact with the outside world. It was an easy choice for you to make, the world was cruel and unforgiving. No one out there was worth it, you’ll miss your few good friends, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make as long as the rest of the world drifted away. You would comfort yourself in the early days by comparing it to a space colony. You were too far away to reach the rest of the corrupted world and had to start anew on your own. Except this new start had a hint of magic to it, any time you thought of something, it would appear behind a door. If you wanted anything to eat all you had to do was picture it and open the fridge or oven, if you wanted a new show or video game, you merely thought of it and opened the entertainment room to the new disc. Everything was an exact replica of what you desired, crafted with precision and a sense of perfection.

    You had everything you wanted and time seemed to fly as you distracted yourself with lounging around. You finally had the time to do anything and nothing all at once. You finally had no more responsibilities to worry about getting between you and every desire. No more sitting behind a desk and typing meaningless reports all day, no more meeting and office small talk, no more giving up your passions and forcing yourself to go to parties because that’s what normal twenty three year olds do. It was paradise, living life going between your passions and eating the best food.

    As time kept going you noticed despite your new found lifestyle you didn’t gain any excess weight, in fact your body seemed to be morphing into your idealized version of yourself. You felt healthier, all problems you had before walking into the mansion fading away. Perfect vision, perfect body, everything was growing to be more and more perfect the longer you stayed. You were the version of yourself that you only saw in your daydreams as you waited for dull days to pass. The version you never had the ability to realize, until now with the aid of the mansion’s magic.

    You stayed wrapped up in the fairytale for weeks before things started to seem off. Even though you had everything imaginable, you found yourself running out of ideas for new forms of entertainment. You got bored of the normal hobbies you had back in your other life, nothing brought the same spark of interest to your days. You decided to start pushing the boundaries of what you could summon, allowing yourself to slip into darker desires. You sat in the hallway, resolved to test the boundaries of your world’s magic. Slowly you allowed your mind to wander to the one person you have fantasized about the most before, pouring over every detail you could remember and filling in the gaps with what you imagine in your dreams. Your hand drifted to the doorknob after you realized them and creaked the door open, and a perfect replica of your fantasy sat motionless on the edge of the bed. It didn’t move, not even the gentle rise and fall of breathing. It sat perfectly, like a doll.

    You inched closer to the figure, because it truly wasn’t them, they were never so dull. You gently waved your hand in front of the unblinking eyes, calling their name to no avail. You allowed your hand to drift to the thing’s flesh, stopping as you were met with an extremely lifelike resistance and warmth. But still you grumbled softly, “No, you’re not right. You’re supposed to be like them, not just some doll.” You paced around the room, waiting to see if the fake would correct itself, but nothing changed as time slipped away. You huffed impatiently, “You have to fix this, it isn’t what I wanted!” but the room was still with defiance. You stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut and picturing them in your mind again. This time you took care to not only picture them, but go over all the fantasies you’ve had about your imaginary life together, filling your head with false memories of them.

    As you reached for the door this time you heard shuffling on the other side. As you eased the door open they quickly took you in, a smile gracing their features as they greeted you. “That’s better.” you muttered out as you approached your new toy, kissing them with the deep passion you held onto for years. Your lips twisted into a smirk as they responded to you with a burning passion that exceeded your own. “I suppose you can’t help it hmm? You were created out of desire.” You spent days with this toy before you began to get bored of their predictability.

    You tried this experiment a few more times, creating both real and fictional lovers to fill the mansion alongside you. Still, over time you got bored with these new toys as you easily predicted every reaction that came from them. This time you decided to give into even darker desires from your time amongst the living. You decided to use the basement for this experiment, it felt fitting from the stories you’ve read on this type of thing. First you decided to furnish the room, picturing harsh metal furniture and tools of destruction and pain. Everything you would ever need to break a person, things to cut and tear, things to burn and drown, anything the dark corners of your mind could dredge up from fiction and real monsters. Then you choose your victim, this one was personal. You knew them, and they tortured you every day as the two of you grew up. You could picture them, tied down to one of those metal chairs in the dark, battered from the abduction and terrified. You pictured the pain and emotion, this one has to be real, you wanted to hear honest screams.

    As expected, when you finally opened the door they were sitting there, taking you in with wide, tear filled eyes. A hideous smile covered your countenance as they started begging. In the back of your mind you knew they weren’t real, and you felt it more than justified your revenge. Regardless, you found yourself relishing in every noise that escaped from your victim, enjoying this new pastime for quite a while. You became skilled at it, inventing new ways to prolong the experience and keep each copy alive. By the time you worked your way through your hit list of possible victims, you had lost track of time.

    As your world was isolated from the Earth around you, there was no way to accurately tell the passing of time. At first you still had a normal sleep cycle, but soon you found out that if you didn’t want to sleep you didn’t have to. You could theoretically never sleep again, but rest became a reprieve from boredom and a free source of inspiration for the next day. There were no clocks throughout the house, even the electronics just had numbers rapidly flashing in places where the time would typically stare you down and remind you of reality. The curtains that covered every window seemed impenetrable to light, completely blacking out all evidence of the sun. Time in the traditional sense lost meaning to you, you didn’t obey any rules of the natural world so you counted time by the activities that filled your life. A day was no longer twenty four hours, it was now a meal with your favorite toys, games in the entertainment room until you were bored, a visit to the basement and your latest victim, a shower, another meal, any final things that you could imagine, and rest. 

    That was, until even this new game became monotonous. You learned every reaction you could get out of your toys, every type of pleasure and pain you could give them. You were truly and utterly bored with your world. You even attempted building other worlds into the mansion, bringing fantasy worlds to life branching off of the endless hallways, but you found these worlds empty without the variety of outside input. So you found yourself resigned to sitting in the living area, reclining in a plush chair and staring at the drawn curtains. You steeled your resolve as your rose from the chair, striding to the heavy fabric that has locked you into your imaginary heaven. As you took a fistful of the material you felt a dark figure materialized behind you, recognizing the musk, a mixture of what you now recognized as burnt flesh and decaying wood. “You are going to violate your contract” the voice echoed in your mind, it’s warning coming out more as a statement of fact. You hesitated, you’ve thought about what might happen if you broke your contract. If everything you’ve imagined disappears, then you have no idea what condition your body would be in. Without a way to track time you could have killed yourself in countless ways. In fact, you know you have attempted to take your life in multiple gruesome ways before coming to this point as the hopelessness set in.

    “It will not be an easy consequence like that.” the voice said, answering the question you never asked. “You will suffer in ways even you can not imagine, tell me have you thought about how this place works child?” You glanced back, looking over the shadow that shifted behind you. You have wondered how the magic worked that allows you to do the impossible. What force would grant you the ability to fulfill every desire. Even though you spent what could have been eternity contemplating it, you never got closer to the answer and satisfied yourself by partaking in some other mindless pleasure rather than thinking about the reality of your situation. The figure chuckled as it took you in, “Human like you are quite predictable. I won’t stop you child, but know you have been warned. Break your contract and doom yourself to suffer.” 

    The figure faded out of existence, leaving you alone once more, clutching a curtain. Slowly those you had summoned during your time here walked into the room. Each partner and victim filled the room around you, as if aware of what you were contemplating and waiting to see the decision of their creator. Every hollow memory filled your head as you looked between them. For a second you felt compelled to apologize to them as they gazed out at you, their faces’ mixtures of betrayal, sorrow, and for the victims, peace. You shook your head, facing the curtain once more, they are mindless shells, figments of your imagination, you don’t owe them anything. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, your first lover stood beside you with a weary smile on their face. “Goodbye, my love. I forgive you.” they said softly.

    You felt a warm light on your face as your head snapped back to the window. As you glanced at her you had pulled the curtain back mere inches, but the light poured in as every curtain in the house fell away. The light blazed through the room, the figures disappearing in the glow as the heat of the day surrounded you. You looked down at yourself and watched as your body morphed under the light of day, shifting back into your original form. “I’m… alright?” you questioned the empty air. You looked around as the house decayed around you, the shadow appearing once more in the doorway. A deep laugh filled the room as you felt yourself getting uncomfortably warm. For a moment you were ecstatic about the discomfort, the imperfection of it all. Then the warmth turned into burning, you looked back down and saw a fire burning from inside your body, the flames licking at bones and muscles as it spread out from your heart.

    “You have failed, child, you could have stayed in heaven for eternity. Now, you can enjoy the torment of hell forever.” Fear shot through your body and the pain consumed you. You heard screams filling the room and mixing with the shadow’s laughter. As you reached to cover your ears you found the screams, which were endlessly echoing through your skull, were in fact your own. The flames consumed you as you glared at the figure with pained eyes. His voice whispered to you one final time, “Don’t blame me, I gave you the same warning as everyone else. Besides, you only have to live through the hell of your own design.” The last thing you can remember other than the pain was the confusion, what hell could await you, what did you create that could surpass the torture you are feeling now.

    When you woke again you were in the bedroom, perched on the edge of a bed and unable to move. As you waited you felt your body begin to scream to move. Your eyes and lungs burned as you desperately tried to blink or breathe, but still you were paralyzed. Then the door opened slowly, and your own perfect self appeared before you, taking you in with a morbid curiosity. Slowly it clicked into place as you watched your own hand wave in front of your frozen eyes and clutch at your own skin. You faded from existence to awake again, in the same spot, but this time forced to greet yourself with a loving smile despite the panic and despair filling your heart. It truly was a hell of your creation, and you were cast in every role.

[musingofafish]

The closer you are to your soulmate, the slower time passes for everyone around you. The first time you touch hands, it feels like the world moves at half speed. Whenever you hug, time slows to a crawl, and when you kiss, you can make a moment last an entire day. One day, you realize this is unique to you two only; and consequently, everyone else in the world is aging faster than you.

The first time I saw him I knew I was in love. It was just like every romantic movie and fan-fic you’ve ever read. The world seemed to still for a second as I took him in. His dark hair cut with a neat precision, his dark eyes scanning the room, his mouth speaking in a way that was intelligent yet charming with a handsome smile to match. I almost felt like he would catch me as I took him in, enchanted with the way he moved and every word he said. I blushed as he looked back at me, that sweet voice asking for my name.

    As we grew closer I noticed time seemed different when we were alone. With groups everything was normal, every now and again we would share magical glances like our first time, but it seemed normal. Then came the dance, the whole night was jokes and teasing. “Just dance with her, get the fifty buck bro.” he would laugh but came to dance anyway. Then he left me blushing once more as he turned and held his hand out to me. “May I have this dance?”

    We walked out together. He gently placed my hands and held me close. The song seemed as if it could last for an hour as we swayed together, talking sweetly of memories and each other. As we came close to one another I swear I could stay in that moment forever. The first time we held hands the world and my heart stilled as his thumb ran moved idly to calm my nerves. As we shared our first kiss and each after that the minutes themselves seemed to be hours. 

    I always thought this pattern was just how love was, every second spent together felt like hours, stretching out as the two of you got closer. Just an hour spent together cuddling in bed could feel like an entire night of sharing each other’s peaceful company. As we grew older and spent more time together, even buying our first home together so we could spend every free moment in our personal realm, reality seemed to bend around us.

Everyone started commenting on how we never seem to age with each other, how we don’t look a year older than when we first met as young teenagers. We would always just smile and tell them how true love can be magically. If only we knew how magically. The truth was we weren’t aging like the rest of the world anymore. As we stood side by side, time surrendered to the force of our souls beating as one.

Now it has become apparent as all our old friends are  locked away in nursing homes and hospitals, waiting out their final years, and we don’t look a day over 50. When we first realized what was happening we started asking around, surely someone else has felt this. The truth is we are alone, somehow we were gifted, or perhaps cursed with extended lives as long as we are together. We had a decision to make, cheat time with each other, or leave our true love behind to stay with the rest of the world.

We are still together, surrounded by generations of children, grandchildren, and even a few great grandchildren. At the ripe age of 150 we are finally reaching our 80s and reaching the end of this life. Scientists stopped seeking our secrets long ago as there was no explanation other than our love. We used our time together as best we could, both working to improve the world around us and raise our family right. But now, we are ready to rest. As we sleep apart from each other in separate beds, always walk three feet apart, we barely even look at each other in fear of stopping time any longer. 

    Now I live in our memories, writing down what I can to leave behind and share what I’ve learned through all this time. I still feel the edges of time slow as I think of him, his wonderful laugh that dances like music through my mind to the memories of us swaying together back before we knew what our lives had in store for us. Despite it all, despite the sorrow and pain of a life this long, I wouldn’t change a thing if I could always hold him. I know as we lay dying we will hold each other, and as soon as one is gone, the other shall follow to whatever awaits us.

[musingofafish]

You were a baby created by a wish, and you learn the cost of that when you hear about one of your friends' cousins touching seawater and dying on contact. Children like you are fatally vulnerable to something, whether it's snow, silver, too much distance from your home or even kisses. You don't know what your weakness is yet. How will you find out what it is and avoid it?

Birds of a feather flock together, as much as I hate quoting cliches I have to give credit where credit is due. We wishes like to be together, who else can better understand the pressure of being born through a wish than someone from the same background. The expectations, the responsibilities, the judgement, we shared it all and gave each other strength. That’s also how we all found out about the fine print that none of our parents read. 

The first one to go was Cindy, she was an athlete and never had time for a social life outside of our group. Lucky for her none of us were party people, and when we did there was never any pressure. We knew how much her competitions meant, so we never pushed her to drink with us. One night after a bad break up, her girlfriend left after hearing she was a wish child, she finally broke. There were only two others there when she first drank the whiskey. The second it touched her lips she started seizing, within a minute she was dead. 

    As we all mourned her we decided to start living life to the fullest. We decided to take a trip out to the coast, a full three days of driving from our home state. We all got close as we again shared our pain and promised to do more. The morning after we arrived we all left villa early to watch the sunrise. Todrick decided to go to the water, and right as his foot grazed the sea his dropped in pain, screaming as his body was coated in welts. Again, before anyone could drag him away from the water, he was gone.

    After this we decided something must be wrong. We returned home and started researching our kind. That’s when we found it, hidden away in antique texts about early wish children. We all have a fatal weakness, something in this world will kill us nearly instantly. There is no recorded reason, no pattern in the weaknesses, the only consistency is that we will die.

    The Panic was nearly instantaneous as we announced our findings to the group, how can we live knowing at any point we can just drop out. Some people decided to run away, seek isolation from the world. We heard two of us died to this decision. Others took a more radical approach, trying everything they can think of in a die now or never approach. This method took the lives of five more. 

    I decided to take a more logical approach, just because no one wrote down the connection, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. For whatever reason none of us found our weakness until we started trying new things. So logically, if we can stick to what we know, we can live. So that’s what I am doing. I was lucky enough to go right into the workforce, so my job as a writer and desk clerk can support me. I even have my current boyfriend, who also happens to be a wish child. If I keep everything the same, I could live out a full life, we both can. 

    While he isn’t ecstatic about the idea of staying the same for the next sixty or more years, he agreed we should stay safe. It has been working for the past year, but now we’re both worried. For our entire lives our parents have been around. Now my mother is in the hospital, facing her final hours. As I held her hand I was shaking, his arms around my shoulders couldn’t still me.  

    Tears filled my eyes as the sound of the heart monitor started to fade, her hand slowly going limp in my own. As her life faded, I felt my own heart ache as if someone was ripping it in half. Her final breath shot me, my hand clutching my chest in agony as I curled in on myself. I heard my boyfriend screaming for a doctor, but we both knew this was it. Despite everything, my weakness couldn’t be avoided.

    The official report is death through intense grief causing a cardiac attack. Years of repressed grief and guilt finally took over with a final death. The link was covered once more.

[musingofafish]

haunted houses have stories

I’ve always had a passion for horror. These stories of ghouls and goblins were truly the easiest way to know a culture. Every story reflects their values and concerns, what threatened them at the time and what questions they shared. That’s why it is a habit for me to visit every ghost tour and haunted attraction I can whenever I travel.

 Some people are scared, claiming ghosts are things of nightmares and should be left alone. Others say it’s all fake and just a complicated money grab. I fall somewhere between these two classes of thoughts. On one hand I recognize most of what you see is fake, a dramatic show used to draw customers and turn a profit. But underneath all that showmanship is some truth, real stories and experiences. Even if you don’t believe in ghosts, their stories are still their true stories.

However, I have always been a believer in souls being stranded in this world. When I was young I would feel these presences weigh down on me whenever death was brought up. Not in the “I see dead people” way, just in a “something is different” way. And then I started going on these tours, and I felt them reach out to me. Something subtle, distant words, a brushing touch. Never violent and dramatic like they say in stories. More gentle and unsure, an understandable response from someone in such a unique situation.

I have a connection to the other side, whether it is in historical sites or churches, there is something there. Where this cracked door came from is anyone’s guess. My dead twin perhaps, or maybe some are just given a gift to reach out and comfort lost souls, both living and dead.

This is what brought me here, a call for help from a distant soul. She was alive, or at least the last time her family saw her she was. They haven’t heard anything in a month, her home is seemingly empty but people swear nothing is different. They just wanted someone to go check on her, find out for them where her soul is.

As I drove up to the home I could feel eyes on me, glowing orbs peeking out from the window and following my every move. They never shifted themselves, it was more of a feeling. That’s how I knew something was off in this home, but it still wasn’t quite like the other houses I’ve seen. The lights flickered within for a few moments as I stood, watching. A thin young woman joined the eyes watching me as the light illuminated her dark hair and simple dress. I could feel her calling out as we watched.

I barely paid attention to my feet as I approached the faded white door. As my hand grazed the handle it fell open, exposing the home draped in midnight. It was chilled, goosebumps covering my skin as I walked into the unknown. A voice greeted me “this way, please sit.” it called from my right.

As I followed a couch appeared at my hip. I gently lowered myself into the plush seat, “Thank you for having me. I apologize for arriving unannounced but I heard you weren’t one for answering calls now and days.” I more felt than saw the frail body place itself across from me, more glowing eyes joining it and writhing around in the darkness. A hum left its throat, possibly a nod a she responded “Yes, I have decided they aren’t worth the time. I have other business to attend to.”

A pair of eyes approached me a weight sunk into my lap, a distinct clammy feeling circling it. “You’re also connected. They are all…” Again a distant nod, “Yes, they are lost. I may seem to lack ambition, but they found me like your people find you.” I let out a slight laugh as I brushed the invisible weight in my lap. “I never knew that they could appear like this.” “Many don’t consider it, but form isn’t as important for them.”

I looked across to her, seeking any sign of her actual presence in the darkness. “I’ll tell them to leave you in peace. It may not last, but I’ll see what I can do.” A smile was her answer, “You know that doesn’t matter.” A smell filled the room, almost causing me to gag. “You know I’m gone, they can do as they please. My work will continue.”

I nodded and stood, “If you don’t mind.” I quickly made it toward the door, letting my feet guide themselves once more. I didn’t stop until I returned to my car and drove back to the highway. I could still hear her voice dancing in my mind, “My work will continue” as will mine.

[musingofafish]

Your boss humiliated you in front of everyone, screamed at you and cursed you. You were so mad at him that you brutally killed him in your imagination. He died the next day, the same way how you imagined it.

The entire office’s eyes were on my and I could feel the heat of my cherry red face increase under their gaze. Some were covering snickers while others only glanced over, seemingly sharing my pain. I heard rumors of how cruel he could be, but I never thought his wrath would fall on me, especially after he sang my praises throughout each interview. It seems I was wrong, all it took was one typo and now he was telling them all how much of a failure I am. 

    He came storming in about halfway through the day, right as I was about to go out to lunch with the team. His eyes were a flurry of anger as he marched over to me with a vicious grin. “I understand a high school dropout might struggle keeping up, but I thought even country trash like you would be able to handle a simple spreadsheet. What? Did they not have enough money for a computer in your entire city? The budget all went to the fancy light over the street?”

I slowly shut down as he carried on, sinking into myself as I stood helpless next to the man spewing insults like an oil well. In the end he slammed the report on my desk and told me to fix it, threatening a second mistake would only make things worse for me. I collapsed back into my seat as he filled out with the rest of my coworkers, tears bubbling up in my eyes. How could he get away with that?! Even if he is out boss, he has no right to speak to us like that!

At the end of the day I went down to HR and realized why, every single one of them were

either too afraid to do anything or supported him earnestly. “It gets results, ever since we hired him our stock skyrocketed. I’m basically ready to retire just off of our companies stocks alone.” “You just have to live with it, complaining makes it worse. He would rather fire you for being insubordinate and ruin your chance at starting a career than make anyone happy.” It was a dead end, but they were right. If I wanted to make something of myself, I had to toughen up.

    That night, anger still flooded my mind as I plotted how I will survive and avoid ever being on his bad side again. Even as I fell asleep, that man never left my mind. As my dreams took hold, the darkness manifests itself before. He stands there, laughing with that damned smile. The only difference, now he is standing in front of the windows, and no one else is around to help them. It didn’t feel quite real, your own body seeming to move on its own while you stood in place watching. A hand that was yours, but not, picked up a stapler in its steady approach. Reaching out, it fired off five staples into your Boss’ body, immediately stopping the laugh.  

    Panicked screams soon filled the air as the body twisted, grabbing a nearby monitor and slamming it against his face, knocking him down. The cord was twisted around his neck as the monitor dropped next to him, crushing his hand. A foot was placed on his groin, and with a swift push he was flying back. Shattering glass was the last sound to fill the air as it cut through his body before he dropped with a sickening splat.

You awoke with a start as he hit, looking around your dark room for the monster that must have planted the idea in your mind. You huffed as you dropped back down, pulling your pillow closer to you. Your alarm sounded in time with your racing heart, and you were off to see the man you just killed.

As you walked into the office you attempted to stay calm, restarting as if it was your first day. Your coworkers greeted you, albeit not as warmly as they did before your Boss chewed you out. You sat down, and work passed by. Lunch once again approached, and so did your Boss. His eyes that same angry storm, and his smirk flashed like lightning before he thunders out your name. 

You breath was caught in your throat as you watch him stride past the row of windows from your dream. Then, everything came crashing down. A spilled drink left a puddle right around the corner desk, resulting in your boss slipping. In his desperation to catch himself he pulls the desk down with him, staples fly through the air and scatter on the floor right as his body manages to crash down on them. He shrieks in pain as coworkers start to move to help, but not before he scrambles away, pulling the cord of the monitor. It crashes down, landing on his face and tangling around his panicked form. 

Finally his crawling form backs too far, crashing through the nearest window and completing the dark prophecy. Screams and shattering glass fill the air once more, but this time your coworkers are still around to join the cacophony of sounds. 

When the ambulance appears there is no way to explain what happened other than a freak accident. Everyone goes home, takes part in weeks of counseling as the office is cleaned up and the funeral is arranged. You never quite recovered, fearing every dream you have after that day. Your mind slowly wears down until you start to hallucinate. Now you sit in the corner of your darkened room as a screaming alarm drowns out the world.

This time you awake for real, looking around once more in the dim morning night. Another bad dream you hope never comes true. You rise and get ready, just another day at work.

[musingofafish]

Fallout 4 fic

The old North Church should be around here. The breeze drifts in from the water, carrying the smell of mirelurks and the idiots who tried to take a stroll with the radiated monsters. I stand up from my crouching position, slinging the sniper rifle over my shoulder in favor of a custom assault rifle.

As I walk toward the buildings I hear a man call out, "Who's out there!" He's in the alley, I could keep walking but raiders don't deserve that. I sneak over to the fence and spot the group of them, five low level grunts keeping watch. The first two drop before the psycho addict rushes me with her signature scream. A bayonet to the face stops her in her tracks as one scream out, "no, no, YOU KILLED HER!" before receiving his own bullet. The last one is frozen, tears slowly dripping down his face as I step up and point my gun at him, "nothing personal, it's just you or me" I speak softly before his tears turn red.

I walk over to the door, it's obviously not a raider base, no dead bodies and turrets in sight. So they were attacking this place for a reason, maybe setting up shop out here. It's not my job, but then again if I'm going to work at the church, a raider gang only two blocks away would be a pain in the ass. the handle easily turns as I step in, reloading my gun as i prepare for whatever awaits me.

The smell of rotting flesh hits as a stale air swallows me. Bone, flesh, and blood are used to decorate the entrance like a prewar haunted house. I turn into the open room, set up like a sick art gallery. The canvases are covered in shades or reds, yellow, and brown all twisted into visage of pain and horror. A centerpiece of entrails and bone is the focus of the sea, bags of meat and materials from previous owners left out like an offering. 

I quickly search through, grabbing caps and bullets before moving to unlock the far door. The Bobby pin clicks home as I rush the room, dropping five more raiders fluidly. More corpses and the stench grows stronger, whoever owns this place seems to have gained a new hobby when dealing with those who wander into his attractions.

The next floor meant two dead raiders and an attack hound. But the attached bedrooms seemed to be home to three raiders tied down to hospital gurneys. Clean slices from knife trace along their flesh, faces frozen in horror as they screamed for the last time. I scrunched my nose as I looked over them, paying for the sin of surviving maybe. I close their eyes as I pass on, least I can do for them now.

The top floor only had one last raider, fiddling with a safe as I forced a blade through his throat. The bed and food of the house was stored up here, since the broken windows allowed the air to be somewhat tolerable. A hole in the wall indicated the next path down, into the bowels of this revolting madhouse.

The sewer system was easy enough to pass through, only a handful of the group seemed to make their way down here. When I finally reached the end, I saw the boss confronting who must be the owner. Seems a few of those painting struck a little close to home, and now he's pissed. I was content to watch, but one of the group noticed me and fired a shot into my shoulder. Of course, that meant the three men had to die with the rest of the gang.

When the dust settled, the owner stared at me as I looked through the bodies and containers. He cleared his throat as I look back to him, "those men deserved a worse death, but thank you for your skills." I nod and walk toward him, "people have the tendency to not live through attacking me" I say curtly as I stimpack my shoulder. He smiles and hands a key over, "then from one killer to another, you should go to my gallery again and thoroughly enjoy the art, you may appreciate it killer." He winks and I walk off, maybe the only one to survive seeing the notorious Pickman.

I do check the gallery again before I leave to the church, and one of the paintings fall to reveal a safe, a perfect match for the key. A knife that fits my hand perfectly, ammo, caps, and a shotgun accompany a folded paper. A fresh heart of blood takes up all but one line, "thanks, killer" 

I hold the knife close as I walk into the church. The room is falling apart, but I know it has to be right. I quickly dispatch the ghouls, watching as the new blade causes them to slowly bleed out as I deal with others. I'm growing fond of this approach, but first I have to go through the tunnels a floor down. A few more ghouls and I reach the wheel lock. I mumble to myself as I press in the pass code, "r.a.i.l.....r..o..a..d"

A grinding noise signals the wall shifting to reveal the dark hallway. They have to be here, I reassure myself as I walk up to the only black, they have to be.

A spotlight blinds me as I raise my hands, shielding my icy blue eyes. "Don't move" a commanding female voice calls out to me, scratching at my mind like a lost memory. "You what through a lot of trouble to arrange this meeting. Who are you, and how did you find this place?" 

I look up to see a dark skinned woman with a machine gun and a skinny man looking me over. Between them, the brown haired woman, Holding a pistol level with my head. I steady my voice as I raise my hands up, "my name is Lucrine. I heard a rumor of a group in the church while in Diamond City, I got curious." She nods as a bald man in dark shades walks behind her the two silently speak before he looks at me, "boss... that's... that's L6-66"

[musingofafish]

The Execution

The table stood miles above the ground, everything looks minuscule from there. The guarded steel bridge and peaceful garden area looked like doll play spaces. Still the young woman sat isolated from the crowds, watching the grass sway in the breeze as she waited. As the others talked with family and friends, she looked out at the world with the faintest of smiles. The scene from above was projected live across the world, cameras positioned so anyone can feel as if they are sitting at the table.

The reactions were as varied as the people who crossed the stage. Some were solemn, downing the amber liquid and walking off without another word. Some kicked and screamed the entire way until the cup was forcibly drained into their mouths. There were even people who laughed and teased the viewers, boasting about their lacking regrets as they finished off the punishment. Regardless of the actions leading up to it, they person always drinks and leaves the platform to make way for the next in line.

A soft but firm hand grasped her shoulder and broke the woman from her inner world. "It's time to go." A man spoke gently, as if afraid to trigger a response. She simply nodded as she stood and made her way to the elevator.

The doors slide open, allowing her to look over the foreign yet familiar faces of the jury. The trusted four who sent off the accused had soft smiles, but their eyes betrayed the sorrowful burden they all carried. She took a deep breath, wiping the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she walks to them. The tall man hands her the glass, the second woman pours the liquid, and the third waits to retrieve it.

Her hands shake as she looks between them, "I... May I have a last request?" They share glances before the first man nods, "We can allow that." She stares at the toxic contents of the glass, "I have everything I own organized with instructions for who it goes to. I also have instructions for the contents of my devices, please... my final request is for these desires to be carried out. Allow my words to comfort those seeking knowledge and insight. Please let me reconcile for any pain I may have caused."

The third woman smiles once more as she wraps her hands around the young criminal. "I'll see to it personally sweetie." With this confirmation she downs the contents without further hesitation, releasing the cup and walking toward the fourth woman. She glances over the four heavy souls and then the cameras, "Do not blame yourselves for this. There is nothing to be done, I will now pay for my sins and face what remains. Thank you for your kindness, and try to enjoy what time you have. Never know what tomorrow brings, right?" One last smile and a weak laugh left her as she falls to the ground. Arms catch her limp body, slowly closing her lifeless eyes and hauling her off.

“Good evening everyone, Mike Baldwin here. Thank you for joining me in our exclusive coverage of the judgement that is rocking the nation. It was six months ago that a young woman named Layla Lecter was sentenced to public execution for the murder of an entire town. However, in accordance to her last wish, her personal writings were distributed across her surviving friends and family. These writings were then collected and published in the record breaking novel, ‘Her life.’

After this publication was released the public were shocked by it’s contents. The words showed a young woman, who was not a gruesome murderess, but was instead a victim. Questions rose of whether the judgement was made in haste, and if an innocent woman was put to death.

Now protests are filling the streets of every major city. Those involved are growing especially violent as they approach government building. They have stopped crying for justice, and now cry for a revolution. More at 9.”

[musingofafish]

Detective part 3

The dog sat by his side as he sunk into the couch. It has been a month, and he finally learned to speak without words. Signing came slow, but they were right about getting his dog. The dark brown ball of fluff stretching out next to him kept him going when the motions blurred together. When the nights grew dark and his mind found a way to become darker, his loyal companion waited at his side as the perfect distraction.

    The young dog’s hearing made up for his own, it was trained to alert him to anything important as well as deal with his emotional struggles. He swore some days the animal was smarter than him. As he scanned the screen in front of him, searching for new opportunities now that he was sure his old job wasn’t an option, the mass to his side jumped up. Her muzzle pressed into his face before she stepped off of the cushions. She gently and patiently led him to the front door before nuzzling him towards it. 

    He patted her head as his peaked out, an old friend equally scared by the blast waited outside. As he opened the door and waved his partner in, the puppy’s entire body shook with excitement. His partner made it a habit to visit after every shift and to spend his days off with him. The two spent hours talking over drinks and food, never about the event that changed their lives, but everything mundane and meaningless in between. Today, he had a different look on his face as he gently shooed the dog that pranced around his feet. 

“When are you coming back Felix?” his partner signed as he stood, defying the comfortable procedure they wordlessly established. He just shook his head, “can’t, now sit.” A heavy sigh moved his torso before he lowered himself, glancing at the open screen. “Felix, don’t give up, this isn’t you” a laugh escaped his lips as he glanced at his partner he could see in his eyes how broken of a sound he must have made, “I’m not me.”

[musingofafish]

Detective part 2.

We both know I can’t do this! He scribbled down. The therapist just looked him over, shaking her head. She signed her response, slowly and clearly. He stared as her hand moved, picking out what words he could before slowly writing down, I Don’t Understand. She sat up and reached a hand across, resting it on his shoulder lightly for a second. She sat back and signed again, “you will.” His eyes went wide as he uncertainty signed back “yes.” She moved her hands in a silent applause as her body shook in what seemed to be laughter. He was learning, it was slow and frustrating, but he was learning.

    After he left the hospital, the therapy began, this was one of the hardest parts. He was used to the burden of training his body from years serving his community. He remembered how he used to brag, “even a detective has to keep his body finely tuned. Never know when a case will come down to a battle of bodies.” He would be proud of his accomplishments in the gym, because to him they lead to catching the scum that plague the city of his youth.  He did everything to keep his body and mind in check, and it showed in his police work.

    Now his attention drifted back to the office, melting under the warmth of the room. Efficiency was the name of the game, so his psychologist was also tasked with teaching him how to live again. His body recovered easily, but his mind was left behind. They made him write journals to keep track of it all, but it all said the same thing. What’s the point, I’m lost. What is a detective without his body, that blast took everything from me. I AM NOT LUCKY.

    They always gave him worried looks, how would he react this time. Will he lash out again, succumbing to frustration as more words drift from his mind, or will he just shut down and ignore the world around him. They mentioned a service dog, they mention support groups, and they always end the talks with that same mantra, be strong, you’ll see you’re lucky.

[musingofafish]

Deaf Character Draft Part 1

The last thing he remembered was a loud bang, the type that would leave your ears ringing for what felt like hours afterward. It was supposed to be a normal search, an abandoned building that could possibly shelter anyone hiding from their warrants. Just a quick look, then I will be right back, that’s the last thing he said before leaving his partner, who was searching for the other buildings. He never knew that would be the last thing he says out loud, the last words he will ever hear. As he turned his back on his nodding friend, and entered the old building he never knew that would be the last time he heard the splash of his boots through the trash filled puddles or the last squeaking door he would ever grimace at.

    Just a quick look, a scan through the warehouse with his flashlight to flush out anyone inside and then they could go back and take a nice long shower. He didn’t even have time to comprehend what happened as he pushed open the door between the entry hall and the storage room. A small click, a quick flash, and then a loud bang. Then nothing, no pain, no sound. He didn’t hear his partner running, yelling into the radio. He didn’t feel the hands desperately attempting to understand and hold black rivers of red. He didn’t hear the atheist pleading with someone who was not standing with them as helped was so far away.

    When he did finally come back, he just remembered pain. His entire body ached, he could feel every new scar pulling his skin taunt and every muscle crying out in protest. If he tried to open his eyes, more pain. The bright lights flooded his weary senses, blinding his eyes which haven’t opened for days. He could almost taste the cleaners that coated the air, overlaying the taste of teeth that haven’t been able to be cleaned as he slept. However, one sense was missing from the assault was sound. No background humming of systems maintaining the perfect room temperature, no gentle beeping of monitors, no dripping fluids, no hurried steps, nothing. 

    You were lucky, they will write to him as he finally readjusted to the fluorescent bulbs that hung over head. Lucky to be alive, only some new scars from glancing shrapnel, everything else was saved for the most part. Some therapy would be needed to rebuild muscle and mandatory mental checks, he would be brand new. Of course, that would not include his hearing. A combination of the blast and some bad luck has rendered him completely deaf. His ear drums were destroyed, as well as many of those small bones that rest inside. He was lucky, or so they said. That was their favorite phrase, they always had to remind him, he is lucky.

[musingofafish]

Bounty Hunter Draft part 3

The blackness slowly faded from her mind as a burning white filtered in. She groaned as pain flashed through her body as she raised her arm to block out the light. “Fuuuuucccckkkk” she said as she forced her eyes opened and glanced around. A familiar form was slouched over in a chair, snoring peacefully amongst the used tools and chaos. She slowly massaged her muscles as she sat up and pulled her jacket back on, feeling the bandages shift under the new fabric. She rubbed her face as she stood, waiting for any sign that the surgery worked.

A shock moved through her system as she dropped to her knees and ground her teeth. Lights flashed through her vision before everything settled and she gasped in a shaky breath. Her head rose painfully to look around once more as a figure materialized in front of her, a subtle spanish history played with his words as he smiled at her, ‘It’s been too long sweetheart.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she rose to face him, “I’ve missed you so much Cy… I… I’m so sorry.” he shook his head and pulled her into a hug, “Don’t. We are both here now. That’s what matters.”

The far figure slowly woke from his rest and saw her hugging an invisible shape. “It worked?” he asked as he slowly stood to face them. She nodded with tearful eyes, ‘Thank you” She whispered out “Thank you so much.” He laughed as he approached, “Oh, I was happy to help… but now, you’re going to help me.” he held up a small switch, “You recognize an emp I’m sure, now you’re coming back to field work for us or else your dear friend here won’t be saved again.” Her eyes dulled as she looked at him, “ Of course…if I don’t come back with you, you die right?

[musingofafish]

Bounty Hunter Draft Part 2

The ride to the outskirts of the compound was shrouded in complete silence, no radio or conversation masked the grinding of pavement and rocks under the worn tires of the truck. As they approached the main road the man stopped the vehicle and looked at his temporary partner. “We have two ways to play this from my point of view. Either we try to break in and do surgery without anyone by chance walking in on us, or we can use my connection. They know me and if I say I have an employer who wants me to try some new tech out on you… well it might work.” She grimaced at the second option as turned to stare at the road. “Second option…” she mused before turning around to glare at him, “IF you are certain you can pull this off, because I assume you know what will happen if this doesn’t go according to our deal.”

They both paused as the tension saturated the air before he nodded and pulled out cuffs and a black blindfold. She looked between him and the equipment. “Seriously?” she sighed and stuck out her hands, “I don't kink shame, but in the truck? Really?” He froze as he fitted the rectangular metal cuffs to her wrists and glanced at her smirk, did she just… make a joke? Her laughter soon filled the empty space and his quickly followed as he shook his head. He finished his task and finally calmed down. After the blindfold was tightly secured he started back down the road, “Now remember you’re a prisoner here, no more fun.” Despite his warning, he still caught a wild smirk out of the corner of his eye.

As the truck pulled up to the checkpoint he rolled down the window and looked over the guard. “Rodney, it’s been a while. I just got an urgent assignment, mind if I take up a lab?” The shadowed figure seemed to pace and type hastily in the computer, “You know there is protocol for this… but the director seems to be in a good mood, he wants to see ya before you start.” replied a deep southern voice. The car glided away before coming to a stop, a series of doors opening and closing, then the woman was coldly dragged off toward a hidden building. Protocol of checking in, a barrage of unknown voices and strong chemicals, and countless blind steps led her to a stiff chair and a familiar voice harshly growling in her ear “Sit still or else this becomes a lot more painful for you, got it?” She sat tall and silently, merely nodding to indicate having heard the question at all. 

“So what’s with the girl and late night visit?” it was a new voice, cold and metallic like a human machine. Her partner for the night seemed to take a nearby seat as he responded, “Don’t care, I’ll get money for doing what I do best, no questions asked sort of deal.” a short laugh followed his words, “Well, some things never change huh?” Silence stretched on in her mind as the two chatted about the on-goings in their lives, but eventually she felt a sharp tug pull her up from the depths of her mind. “Let’s go, nap time is over Princess.” He laughed as the two walked out and continued through halls and elevators.

She finally heard a door slide open as the blindfold was removed from over her eyes. “Sorry about all that, but the good news is we have the workspace to ourselves for awhile.” he said weakly as he unlocked the cuffs. The workspace was composed of large metal tables and cabinets. Machines and tools coated the walls and presumably filled the drawers. A metallic operating table stood in the middle of the chemical coated room with bright lights focused in on its gleaming surface. “If you would relax on the table and if I could get the chip, we can get started.” the man said as he stiffly went through sterilizing his hands and suiting up.

The woman held the chip close to her for a second, “See you soon Cy” she whispered to it before placing the locket on the nearby tray. As she stretched out on the table a pitch nipped at her arm, causing her to grimace. The anesthetic quickly worked its way through her system as the world faded around her. See you soon Cy, i hope.

[musingofafish]

Bounty Hunter Draft Part 1

“Why am I here?” the smooth voice mocked in disbelief. “I think I am supposed to be asking you that. You know, since this is MY house.” A dramatic sigh filled the air as the man sitting in the window gazed over. His face was a mask of boredom as his dark brown eyes took in the woman. Her dirty brown hair flowed down to her shoulders, framing her fair face with messy waves. Her own hazel eyes were still hostile toward him, which can be expected after finding a dark haired man reclining in their home. She wore khaki cargo pants and a black tank top while he was coated in black jeans and fitted black jacket. While She pretended to be a typical cop on most days, he hid from the world. He calmly spoke with an ancient British accent “I don’t mean it so literally my dear, I was referring to why you hold yourself back from reaching your goals.”

            She stood in the hallway staring him down as they both slowly analyzed the other, waiting for a hint of either’s next move. The anger slowly faded from her stone cold gaze as she quickly exhaled. She turned and strode over to the small kitchen, signing for him to follow without a word. He stood against the wall with an obedience that only comes from years in their occupation. She pointed to a chair without looking as she grabbed two beers from the broken fridge with a practiced ease. She sat in her own chair and effortlessly kicked it back onto two legs while placing his drink down. He took it without complaint, it is traditional after all. She smoothly took out her knife and he removed his own, both opened the drinks and set the weapons on the table. There would be no other weapons in the room, just an undercover woman, an invisible man, two knives, and two beers dripping with condensation.

             Their eyes met once more as she finally broke the silence with her own accent, a sweet mix of militant cultures from the base. It spoke with an edge that could not be ignored but still had a subtle whisper that drew in men and women alike. “Sometimes goals are not worth the pursuit in worlds such as these. I still get paid and I no longer run from the light of day.” The man looked over her balancing figure once more, what she could have experienced to drive her to this has always been a mystery. One hidden in the dead eyes of countless victims and blood splatter found in old hallways and hidden crypts. “The pay is much better on my side of the deal, we both know that” he responded without missing a beat, “There must be a reason for your disappearance. So I ask again, why are you here? What are you doing living like this, like a common street cop?”

She looked over with a sad smile and a bitter laugh left the woman. “You are here and you followed every one of the steps I set up a long time ago. You walk like a man who knows my world of birth and the world in which I will die. So that means you also know that only one of us can leave this room alive.” He spoke out, cutting her off from continuing and plastering a look of surprise on her visage “Sorry to interrupt you but I think I owe you an explanation before you go on. I am a… hired gun, but I’m not here for your life. Well, not exactly. My employer has an offer for you. A new job, all the gear and money you want, you can choose how the jobs get done. It’s everything a mercenary can want. But… If you refuse then I have been ordered to… take you off the market.” His head lowered as the last words slipped out of his lips and silence fell throughout the room once more.

“Let me tell you a story. It’s a long one, so you might as well get comfortable.” His brows furrowed at how the woman could be so calm when presented with her death, but then again she probably knew she wouldn’t be the one dead if this went wrong. Her voice drew him back in as she stared up at off white  and yellowing ceiling as if it could display the memories of her past.

“I’m sure you know this, all of the others before you have, but three years ago I was just like you. Sure I had more reputation and power, people will tell you I was stronger, faster, smarter, and just straight up better than you could ever dream of being. I would never correct them, but truth be told I was just like you when I first started. I was only five years old, sold into the job and kept as a pet project of some freak show scientists. I didn’t know much more than the pain of training and experimentation until I was ten. By then they had perfected me under their loving care. The pretty little weapon to sell off to the highest bidder that they dreamt of. My physical and mental capacity was higher than any other human my age. But that wasn’t good enough for them, they wanted more. They wanted to make up for my bodies weakness. So, they stuck another mind into my head, an AI named Cyphren.

He was a part of me, quite literally when you think about it. We learned to work together, I had my natural abilities which were trained into me, allowing me to serve as the physical carrier for the operation. He could easily transfer into tech of all kinds and facilitate what needed to be done, a portable virus which can work in unison with the human mind. I would smooth talk and fight, he would hack and infiltrate. He handled the armor enhancements and I used them to finish the mission. We were both serious to a fault when it came to the mission, a byproduct of the torture needed to create both of us, but I was still a kid then. He knew this and would care for me emotionally in our off time. He would stay up with me, pull me out of a bad nightmare, he would even tell me jokes. He was the light in my very dark world all through my teenage years and he reminded me that happiness and love weren’t dead.

By then I had been sold off to someone who could actually use our talents and Cyphren of course followed along. We had gear, money, respect, power, everything we could ever want in our field. I was twenty one and I served as the second in command for the Boss, you probably know him as Reaper, the angel of death, or some other edgy version of that. I took up the name Shadow, more specifically Death’s Shadow. I did as I was told and I did it well. Everything was good in life. Sure I never got close to anyone other than the voice in my head, I never had a normal life either, but I was at the top of the life I was handed. Almost the top. Reaper was the Boss, he told me what to do and if I didn’t get it done then bad things happened. Luckily for us I was good at what I did, and I knew how to follow orders.

You might’ve noticed I referred to Cyphren in past tense. Well, that’s because of what happened when I was twenty five, three years ago. The day I left that world behind. He was all I had, and the Reaper knew this. The job was simple, go in and set off an electromagnetic bomb that would shut down all the tech in the area. It would knock a major competitor off the table and maybe ruin the days of a few civilians while we are at it. It also, would shut down Cyphren. The area was guarded to the point where I was the only one with the skill to get in, and if I refused the job not only could the group be wiped out but dear Reaper would torture me until he figured out how to break down Cyphren and destroy him slowly. I really had no choice, but I did have an hour before I had to leave for the mission.

I ripped him out, I had to save him.” At this point she moved a small chain around her neck and displayed the implant sitting inside a clear locket. Its dull silver surface was tinted with old blood but the chip itself still gave the impression of care as its surface glinted in the light. “I kept him safe, but the impact of disconnecting was like nothing I have felt before. A part of me died that day, and I felt it as we were ripped apart. The job was done and I left, it was clear I had no support there had I had nothing left to lose. I went into the civilian world as a legal mercenary, paperwork and everything, but I never found someone who could give me Cyphren back.” Silence fell over the room as the young man finally understood. He looked up from the chain to stare back into those hazel eyes and he saw something other than deadly intent, there was a grief hidden in those depths that spoke to hundreds of open wounds.

He finally found his voice after listening to the clock tick on for what felt like hours. “I….I think I can help. I helped with implants like that before. I can try, but he might not be the same as you remember. He would have been struggling like you have.” Her eyes searched him for a second before she nodded, not trusting her own voice. He tapped on the table as he thought, “There’s this facility, an underground research center for… questionable work. I may be able to get what we need there.” She got up and walked toward the closed door across the hall, “Give me ten minutes to get what I need. We can do this tonight.”

He walked over to the window and watched the sun slowly sink further in the sky as he waited. She emerged silently from the room as his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Your employer checking in?” she called out, causing him to quickly flip around. She changed into a full black outfit, similar to his own down to the hidden armor and tools. Hers seemed to be built toward versatility and mobility, while his was designed for interfacing with tech while offering increased protection. He nodded to her as he checked the message, “He can wait though, I’ll tell him you just walked into the building.” She smoothly checked herself one last time while replacing the blade from the table, “Whatever works for you, let’s get going shall we?”

[musingofafish]

Character Draft

The name is Aria Barone (the immortal warrior) and here’s a preview of my life. I was born from a loveless marriage between two infamous families. My father was a prestigious warrior, the best general throughout the lands despite his drinking problems and anger issues. My mother was the daughter of a noble looking for power and control. My grandfather thought by becoming the father in law to a great general, he could gain control of the armies…. He was wrong. His plan for over throwing the emperor was discovered and his son in law slaughtered him. Just before this little old me was conceived, and obviously my mother was in no place to leave to nothing. Hence I was raised as a fighter by my sober father, and I was taught strength and injustice by his intoxicated half. As for my mother, she died when I was one from an “accident”, in which she fell off her horse and was trampled by it.

            I grew up in a fast paced and harsh world with extremely strict boundaries and high expectations. I learned to fight under my father’s eye and soon grew an affinity for a new set of weapons patterned after a cat’s claws. The three bladed gauntlets were retractable and comfortably fit on the hands while shredding through close range targets. I could use the other weapons, thanks to my dear father’s persistence, but the claws felt natural and grew to be extensions of my own being. Because of the close range demanded by these weapons, my father had me trained by his best assassins in the art of stealth and trickery. Poisons, blades, shadows, and my enemy’s mind became my play things and my weapons of mass destruction.

            When I hit sixteen I decided to venture out on my own for a few years and find my place in the world. My father wanted me to stay and fight under his name, but I refused. I left the town of my youth under the new moon with only my pack and my weapons. I wandered for months through these lands and have seen many things, but eventually my luck ran out. I met a group called the angels, but they were anything but.

            It appeared to be an old cemetery, filled to the brim with statues of angels in various stages of decay. I paid little to no attention to them, because after all what harm could a statue do? Well it turns out, quite a lot. These statues were all assassins who proved themselves worthy to the cult and were chosen to protect the dungeon. The second I passed them, they all sprung to life and attacked me. I managed to kill off five of the monsters before I was forced to retreat into one of the tombs. Inside I saw the true curse of the angels. The chosen who have not served long enough to stand outside lined the tomb. Wings formed from all of their backs but stone seemed to infect them at various rates. Their eyes were slowly covered by a cold grey, the stone also radiated out from various wounds that were scattered over their bodies. It ate away at their hair, slowing inching from root to tip. These figures seemed to be in too much pain to even notice my presence, much less attack. I walked, horrified, through the tomb as I took in the full effect of these monsters. Slowly I reached the main room and was met by darkness and a biting pinch in my neck.

            When I woke up the true nightmare began. I was tied down to a black stone chair by rough chains that ripped through my arms as I struggled. A series of priests slowly entered the room behind me. They were paradoxes when compared to the others. They were covered in the same stone but their eyes were gouged out. They moved smoothly underneath black robes and seemed to lack the characteristic wings of the fighters. The next process must have taken days, but slowly they introduced me to pain like no other. My eyes were wrapped in barbed wire, a strange serum was pumped into my veins, my bones were broken, cuts were left across my body, and tattoos were slowly stitched into my skin. Eventually they seemed to get bored of me and placed me in the hallway. I was able to retrieve my things and a few tokens for the road, and I ran.

            So here I am, a monster living on the boundaries of society. I am slowly being formed into the beasts I run from, but a part of me refuses to give over my spirit to a false god. Instead I am working as an assassin for hire on the outskirts of town, using my skills to avoid the eyes of any who don’t require my blades.

[musingofafish]

Kings of Masquerade

Masked figures blend into the crowd

Cloaked in false smiles

Filled with stolen emotions

Facades appear natural

As eyes wander to find weakness

Predators latch onto the exposed

Forcing them down further

Supported by the mindless drones

Kings of a darkened world

Sit on thrones of charred bones

Their masks lined in jade and gold

Watch the judged masses below

The kneeling subjects

Holding frayed and broken disguises

Controlled by synthesized supremacy

Chances to recover are burned

Ashes build an illusion of power

Pain spreads like a plague

As the executioner feeds on the destruction

With a twisted smile he bows in thanks

And sweeps out the wounded

Watching as the war burns bright

As he whispers out to the dead

“Long Live the Kings”

[musingofafish]

Here’s to the Night

The dark encases the beaming sun

Solo actors and couples fill the stage

Running and prancing

A desperate attempt to not be outdone

A conductor of the chaos released from her cage

Takes the form of a beautiful mage

And cures the hidden dancers of their plight

She uses her mystic charms to assuage

And in unison they cry “Here’s to the night!”

Shadows of men creep through the dark

They weave through shadows

All in the game they play

Rounded edges become vicious and stark

As each one joins the nightmare as a stray

The bodies move in unison and sway

Combined in a secretive sight

Some prepare to celebrate

while some prepare to slay

But still they all cry “Here’s to the night!”

Different styles of dances allow souls to combine

Filled with passions which are revealed at night

Shocking them with addictive waves of dopamine 

Acts seen to all as forbidden

Cast under a different light cause

Common rules are overridden

And thus acts to some become a rite

Some supported by ancient soldiers

others by Whidden

But still the shadows cry “Here’s to the night!”