You have proof that the universe is a computer simulation. Instead of telling the world about your discovery, you exploit bugs in the simulation to teleport and clone yourself.
Oh, no, cloning yourself is NEVER a good idea. There are a number of books, movies, comic books etc that explore all the ways THAT can go wrong.
Better ideas:
– Enable ‘healing aura’ on yourself and make a fortune as a faith healer adhering to some really random deity.
– Edit a lot of wild new hair and eye colours into the human genome and watch the world get more colourful.
– Use teleport to break into a ton of museums, vaults etc. Don’t steal anything, just take pictures of a toy penguin in situ and run the most bafflingly thrilling Instagram ever.
– Figure out how to edit other people, then take the genitalia of the very rich hostage until they give all their money to a) the poor, b) you, c) environmental conservation or d) all of the above.
– Revive extinct species in really unlikely places just to watch the scientists flip their shit.
– Give yourself telekinesis and just go wild with it.
– Use ‘teleport’ and ‘glow’ to convince people you are an angelic visitor and give them a stern talking to.
– Create an ‘infinite coffee’ exploit and drive Starbucks into the ground.
– Be the best stage magician who has ever lived.
@elidyce if I ever find out how to exploit the bugs in the simulation, you’d be the only person I would tell just so I can watch your creative genius evolve
no, but hear me out
you can talk to animals. you can hack other people to talk to animals.
They find a book written in Latin… one guy doesn’t take Latin and doesn’t want to mess up the pronunciation. The girl is studying Mandarin. Another guy recommends sticking it into Google Translate but that’s likely to land them with gibberish. They leave it alone.
The car won’t start. They call an Uber.
The vampire captures the girl and insists that she wears the gown to dinner. The gown is actually hella cute. Only problem is it’s not in her size. Oh, it only comes in 2’s and 4’s? Sorry, vamp, you want me in that dress you contact the goddamn company and tell them to get their shit together.
“How did you possibly know that? It saved our lives!” “I’ve got two degrees and I spend way too much time on Wikipedia.”
They encounter a spirit that gains power the more people believe in it. One girl makes a vine and uploads with, “fakest ghost ever!!! Right??” Twenty minutes later the spirit is destroyed.
The circus is in town tonight. Except she’s lived her whole life here and the circus has never come before… it’s also in a pretty sketchy part of town, not somewhere you’d want to walk alone at night. She goes to a movie instead.
“You’d need an ARMY to fight this evil!” “Okay. I’ve got 20,000 followers, lets see how many can make it.”
The Evil Whispery Voice of Doom tells the jock that it’s going to kill his pretty blonde girlfriend. The jock gets offended because, excuse me, Cindy and I are just friends. However, Marty over there is my boyfriend and I’m not saying you should kill him, just stop making assumptions yeah?
“This spirit tried to convince me it was Jerry when it texted but its texting style is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT so yeah that didn’t work.”
We could have easily gotten lost and ended up at some creepy cabin in the woods, but luckily we all had functioning GPSs. Beach party, we’ve arrived!
“We have to find a way to destroy it! We—what are you doing?” “Looking up ‘exorcising demons’ on Google. Oh look, first hit.”
The child she bares will be the devil’s spawn. Good thing she doesn’t want kids. Or if she changes her mind she can always adopt.
“How can we possibly outwit this serial killer…” “… There’s gotta be an app for that. Lemme look.”
Only the virgin will survive… Turns out they’re all virgins. One is asexual. One wants to wait until marriage. Two just haven’t found the right person yet. One is meh about sex. So we all survive, yeah?
The girl does not fall. She was on varsity track.
“Quick! We need someplace to hide the artifact. And then decoys to confuse the beast! What have we got?” “… I’ve got a hundred plastic bags stuffed into another plastic bag.” “PERFECT.”
i would pay to read a book of a collection of modern horror stories
They’re trapped in a haunted cabin one of them inherited from a Weird UncleTM. Mysterious figures, things going flying, screams and drumbeats and chanting, blood pouring down the walls, the whole bit. They pull out the Ouija Board.
“BRO, WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?”
S…A…C…R…E…D…L…A…N…D
“Oh.”
“Oh geez. Oh no. This is Native American land. Oh goodness I am SO sorry.”
“Um so, like I inherited this property and a couple acres, can I like…donate it?”
W…H…A…T
“Yeah man like, what tribe are you? I don’t want to live here, this cabin is grody and Uncle Tim was a fuckin’ weirdo. It’s your guys’ land, just like, what tribe?”
C..H…U…M…A…S…H
“Cool. Uh, I guess we’ll…call them…in the morning?”
T…H…A…N…K…Y…O…U GOODBYE
“Oh. Well fuck, like, that was easy.”
I was all set to dislike this when I saw the title, thinking it was gonna be another bashing of my generation post… then boom! Talk about saving the day!
And okay, my first though was “and the galaxy was saved because even Anakin Skywalker would struggle to keep trusting Palpatine with that music playing in the background”
Anakin think he’s gone COMPLETELY insane (maybe he’s finally been electrocuted too many times and its fried his brain). He doesn’t tell anyone though because he can still fight just fine just… everything is a lot more musical. He doesn’t want to be thought crazy and taken off the front lines.
Once he figures out what the various musical cues mean he actually finds them useful in figuring out how dangerous a situation is. Also battles are so much cooler now and boring landscapes are slightly less boring because at least now they have mood music. Yep, he can live with this.
(Although he is always confused why the ominousness that is The Imperial March starts playing at some of his decisions)
*cracks up*
Anakin: I’m so worried about something. I should probably keep my feelings to myself and attempt to solve my problems by working with Palpatine. He seems like he has my best interests at heart.
Music: DUN DUN DUN, DUN DA-DUN, DUN DA-DUN!
Anakin: [pauses] [looks around] Uh…OK. I mean, I’ll…go talk to Obi-Wan?
Music: [hopeful woodwind instruments]
Anakin: …and be open and honest about my life and what is bothering me, and try to work out a non-violent resolution to my problems?
The Force: Son, please… Guess I’m gonna enable the hints menu.
THE HINTS MENU. *dies*
Maybe Obi-Wan hears the music, too, and then the day is saved.
Obi-Wan: [walking away] Welp, guess it’s off to kill Grievous I’m sure Anakin will be fi –
Music: [Duel of the Fates]
Obi-Wan: OMG not this shit again [runs back down the hall towards Anakin]
Anakin: [running back towards Obi-Wan] Obi-Wan I just heard that Ominous Music again and also I secretly married Padme and she’s pregnant and I haven’t slept in 6 days and I keep thinking she’s going to die and I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT and if you leave I will 100% end up killing everyone and –
Obi-Wan: – oh my God! OK…it’s OK, I heard my own ominous music a second ago when I was getting ready to leave and so I won’t and we’ll fix th –
Anakin: – I heard mine when I thought about maybe talking to the Chancellor instead of y–
Palpatine: [sidling up behind them smugly] Everything all right, gentlemen?
Music: [scary ass music from the opera scene]
Anakin and Obi-Wan: AHHHH
I randomly thought of this post again today and it made me laugh
For the record in that last line I always pictured them clinging to each other in fear like Shaggy and Scooby:
when noblewomen try to refuse an arranged marriage, it’s always because the man is “fat, old, and ugly.”
someday i will write a princess refusing to marry a young and beautiful prince because he’s cruel and stupid. choosing instead to marry a king who is fat, old, and ugly, but also sensible and a good statesman, because she knows her marriage is a political alliance and she can always get her jollies with pretty courtiers if it comes to that. “my petticoats are full of politics,” she will say. “my royal booty is much too important to waste on handsome jerks.”
the business of getting an heir is awkward, because her husband tends to act like an indulgent uncle and that’s not at all sexy. but he’s happy to mentor her in statecraft, knowing his age means he’ll leave her in an awkward position. when he does die, they’ve solidified her standing enough that she can rule in her own right.
her second marriage is for love. as a stately middle-aged queen, she can marry prince charming, and make him prince consort rather than king. his gentle nature makes him a fine diplomat, and he’s not inclined to try taking power.
her daughter, raised by political maestros, never marries at all. she handles power with such a deft hand that she can name a well-educated cousin as heir and take him to apprentice without more than token grumblings from the nobility.
and that, i say, closing the storybook, is how our kingdom came to elect its royalty from a pool of candidates based on aptitude scores. now go to sleep.
Give me a story where Qui-gon survives, but at the cost of Obi-wan losing an arm and his legs. A mirror image to the loss Vader suffers.
Let me see all that physical pain and adaption that Lucas loves to put into his villains turned into something light and amazing.
Let Anakin see the Jedi’s hypocrisy when they cast Obi-Wan out because he’s angry and in pain and they say he can’t access the living force anymore. When Obi-Wan always favored the unifying force anyway.
Let him ask why they fear he’ll go dark and see the parallels to slaver ‘mercy’ when they free slaves too weak or injured to work because it isn’t worth paying slave tax on them and you have to pay a fine if you kill off your slaves in order to dodge taxes.
Because the Jedi don’t have money or things. When he gets cast out all Obi-Wan will have are the robes on his back, a lifetime of fighting skills, and mounting debt as he tries to get prosthetics and pain management.
All Jedi who leave the order go grey or dark is a self fulfilling prophecy when you toss them out without trade skills or money.
Let me see a Anakin who picks a path with Obi-Wan still. Two gray force users. Making a life for themselves of the fringe of society, freeing slaves, learning to force heal and build prosthetics. All with the queens of Naboo and Mandalores quiet and unofficial backing. Dodging Jedi and Sith interference at every turn.
Until one day they stumble on a planet in the middle of nowhere and are shown thousands of slave children waiting to be sent to die for the Republic and the Jedi they are trained to serve.
They steal them away a little at a time. Covert opps they tell anyone that asks. And when they check the boys for slave chips and oh do they find them.
Palpatine doesn’t even know his plans have gone astray until it explodes all over the net that a thousand fighters have appeared out of no where to destroy the Hutt empire. All the slaves are free and any system wanting to break from republic rule are free to petition to join the new alliance. Naboo and Mandalore are some of the first to join.
There are all the clones he had planned to use against the Jedi along with the chosen one and his mentor who have remained annoyingly too hidden for Palpatine to gain control of.
And here are Yoda and Mace faced with two men who they cast aside as too broken and likely to fall. Now shining in the force so brightly that is has cleared away shatterpoints and the ever encroaching sith influence.
And lots of days Obi-Wan is in too much pain to leave his bed and Anakin is so angry his aura rolls in like a thunderstorm darkening the very force around him. But that’s okay because the force is not a power limited by emotion or trauma no matter what some religions may say.
So I was rereading Harry Potter, when I came across this and thought- what if instead of Cedric Diggory, Cassius Warrington had been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?
Imagine Dumbledore calling out the name of the Hogwarts champion and it isn’t a Gryffindor, or a Ravenclaw, or even a Hufflepuff, but it’s a Slytherin. A student from a House most people hate.
Imagine Cassius Warrington getting up, and three out of four Houses are booing at him and shouting things like “NO!” or, “We can’t have a Slytherin champion!” or demanding a retry. But he’s a Slytherin- he’s been dealing with this shit since he got sorted, so he keeps his head high and joins the other champions.
Imagine Harry trying to catch Warrington alone because he doesn’t really want to associate with Slytherins (plus Malfoy has this tendency of being around the guy ALL THE TIME since he got chosen), but at the same time he’s also fair enough not to want him to walk into the first task unprepared.
Imagine Warrington walking over to Harry a few months later, and Ron and Hermione both jump into a protective stance, wands out, but instead of attacking Harry he just tells him to stick the egg underwater. (Because Slytherins don’t forget those who helped them out).
Imagine Warrington and Harry helping each other out in the labyrinth.
Imagine Harry being devastated when Peter kills Warrington- because Voldemort doesn’t care what house they’re form, a spare is a spare.
Imagine the uproar that causes among the Slytherins, because some of their parents really are Death Eaters and they know what really happened.
Imagine Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts and shouting “This is for Cassius!”
Imagine Harry returning with Warrington’s body, and the crowd realizes what’s happened, but Warrington’s parents don’t show up. There’s no one to mourn him, to cradle him in their arms and cry for their son. The Slytherins know why. His parents were Death Eaters, too.
Imagine Slytherins reaching out, asking for help from classmates from other houses. They’re terrified, truly terrified because the being their parents claimed would never hurt them because they’re pureblood, they realize that he does not care.
Imagine Slytherins in the 5th book sneaking off to join Dumbledore’s Army, to learn more about who Voldemort is without their parents acting as a filter.
Imagine the shock when they’re told what he’s really done.
Imagine that a few talented Slytherins went with Harry and the others into the Ministry of Magic. The others are a bit wary but they prove themselves as friends.
Imagine them being confronted by Lucius Malfoy in the the Hall of Prophecy, and when the Death Eaters descend, they know that any one of them could be their parents.
Imagine the shocked gasp of a Death Eater as they realize their own child, a pureblood, is standing defiantly with Harry Potter. They choke back a cry. They can’t let their child know that they were about to duel to the death.
Imagine a DA Slytherin facing off against their own Death Eater parent. That they make the decision to let their child defeat them, because in that moment, they realize that they love their child more than they fear Voldemort. They go down, mask unveiled, and the Slytherin kid has to be dragged from the fight before he gets killed.
Imagine Book 6 Slytherins getting more friendly and cooperative with the other houses. Two years of Voldemort terrorizing the muggle and Wizarding world, two years where their parents just up and leave some days, cringing from the pain in their arm, two years after the death of the first Slytherin pureblood, Cassius Warrington, killed by Voldemort’s right-hand man, and they’re slowly hitting the breaking point.
Imagine Slytherin kids keeping tabs on their parents, sending the information to Harry, who shares it with the Order of the Phoenix, and hoping that their parents won’t be killed.
Imagine Book 7 Slytherins low-key rebelling against the new oppressive Hogwarts staff.
Imagine the final siege on Hogwarts, where Slytherins stand proudly by their fellow houses, knowing full-well they could be fighting their own parents. Some Slytherins know their parents were in the fighting. They hope to find them first and sneak them away. Their fellow students understand. Professor McGonagall allows 7th Year Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, to duel a death eater in her stead; her father is under that veil. She knows it.
Imagine the aftermath of the battle; every house suffered loses. Slytherin students crying over the deaths of friends they made in every house.
Imagine
a Cassius Warrington statue made in his honor, the first Slytherin to fight and die nobly with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, in the face of ultimate evil. He was a true Slytherin, and it’s in his name that Slytherin children and their families have cut all ties with the Death Eaters, denounced Voldemort, and are finally living in peace.
Imagine a story in which Harry wasn’t in love with his fellow champion’s girlfriend, but after her boyfriend’s death just hugs her so long, so hard, and says “he wanted to win for you. You should know–you should know he won, he did it for you” and gives her the best hug and shoulder he knows how to be because her parents aren’t there either and she must know why.
Imagine Harry staring over her head at everyone else until Hermione steps up–it doesn’t take long, but it takes long enough that when she does all eyes are on her as a source of motion–and says “we’re never going to forget this. They’re not going to get away with it” and the girlfriend just latches onto Hermione and everyone is in wands-out stance convinced she’s about to attack the shit out of Hermione, and then the girlfriend stares into her eyes and says “do you promise me” and Hermione just gives her this super-firm nod and says “I promise” and the girlfriend just collapses on her, sobbing.
Imagine Dumbledore trying to give some flowery speech about inter-wizard solidarity while glossing over why, because Slytherins have always been a touchy subject, and Ron gets to his feet and says “Professor, I need to say something important” and Dumbledore is so surprised he just cedes the floor, and Ron–after that awkward moment when he realizes everyone is staring at him–says he didn’t know Warrington particularly, but he knows how Warrington and Harry played. That each was always cheering on the other. Both wanted to win, but neither was willing to undercut the other by underhanded means. He finishes up saying “I think–I think it’s important everyone should know he died being what a champion should be. Because he could have abandoned Harry and instead he stood up with him to play the game the honest way, and he died for it. And–and Slytherin House should be proud, and we should all be proud, because Warrington was a good bloke.” He sits back down all flustered because he didn’t actually stand up meaning to make a speech. And then Pansy Parkinson stands up before Dumbledore can take back control of the room and says “I want to tell Weasley thank you.” And all of Slytherin House raises a glass–to Warrington, to Weasley, to Potter–and the other houses follow suit. Many years later, Wizarding scholars will say that was the moment Voldemort truly lost.
Imagine later that summer. Harry gets several owls on his birthday, all unsigned. The birds are plump and pretentious and well-cared-for. He will never know which Slytherins sent him their treasures: parchments with hexes developed by the Death Eaters; a strange locket that will only open if he whispers a special spell but that always shows him the picture he most needs to see; a page torn from a potions book that, brewed properly, will allow him extra time to summon a Patronus by giving him a few crucial seconds not just of happiness but of bliss. It doesn’t matter. Harry knows these gifts not as birthday gifts but for what they really are, and he treasures the locket and copies out the potion to send to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, and when first summoned by the Order of the Phoenix he marches straight up to Dumbledore with the hexes and says “I can’t tell you where I got these, Professor. But they’re in use by the Death Eaters and I think you should have them.” Months later, Sirius will recognize the spell Bellatrix shoots at him, and will dive out of the way just in the nick of time.
The final battle. Everyone is there. Sirius somehow ends up herding a group of Slytherins. They all stare at him and he at them, across a centuries-old divide Voldemort has only succeeded in deepening. Then he remembers the hexes. Harry’s locket, now tucked under Sirius’ shirt because Harry’s friends are with him in this battle but most of Sirius’ are dead. The moment that happiness potion saved Remus’ life, his very soul. Snape’s final words to Harry, finally seen not as mockery but real true advice. What Harry said Voldemort said–his first words in his new form. They are kids, and they are sharing the same kind of hurt he once wouldn’t admit to, watching his mother burn his name off the family tree. “When we go in there, it’s going to be hell,” he tells the Slytherins. “Some of you are probably going to die. I might go down too, and if I do I want your best curser in the front. But I want you all to remember one thing. There are no spares.” Later retellings of the battle never fail to mention the moment a group of angry, screaming teens burst into the Great Hall, wearing their green and silver as the badge of honor it should be, shouting NO SPARES, NO SPARES at the tops of their voices in between hexes and curses and the occasional physical punch. When Hermione is present, she always interrupts the storyteller to be sure everyone knows about the moment Blaise Zabini shoved her to the floor, dropped on top of her, fired off three curses in rapid succession and said “stay alive, Granger, we need you” before jumping back to his feet and vanishing into the melee–how, for all anyone knows, those may have been his last words, and she will not let his sacrifice go unnoted.
The aftermath. Malfoy holds out a hand to Sirius, badly injured on the floor. Sirius asks how Malfoy is willing to trust him. Malfoy nods at his chest. “You’ve got my godfather’s locket,” he says, and when Sirius and Harry finally speak after the battle Harry gives his full agreement to the very first thing out of Sirius’ mouth. They give the locket to Malfoy. Sirius grits his teeth and closes his eyes and opens them and says “He probably saved my life, giving Harry that.” He doesn’t say thank you. Malfoy hears it anyway.
The school reopens under a single banner: the four Houses united. The House rivalry is reduced to just that–a competition in fun–with those deep divides slowly healing to scars, and eventually away to nothing at all.
Imagine it.
When we stand, we stand united as one
And then there would be no hope for any uprising of evil, no users of the dark arts would dare to attack. There would be no neglected Slytherins turning to a darker cause. The unity Cassius Warrington’s death caused would come to save the world, time and time again, as would-be-Voldemorts find no followers. No children will ever have to fight their parents, or family. There would always be peace.
oh christ somebody added to it and now i’m a soggy emotional wreck
I’m crying because this is what slytherins should have been and truly are
This is beautifully written and I wish it was in the books xx
This is such a fantastic read. A Slytherin triwizard champion sounds awesome.
i’m sick of doom-and-gloom, 2edgy4u urban fantasies with angsty Chosen Ones™ and constant hard darkness and entirely too many werewolves. so here’s a list of kinder urban fantasy things:
• pharmacies run by faeries who can tell what you need with a single touch and who are tipped with dollar coins and drawstring pouches of sugar (don’t worry, they have human employees to handle the iron supplements)
• dryads who tend to the parks and sidewalk trees and have the ability to purify little patches of air for asthmatics who have difficulty breathing in the polluted city air
• tiny water sprites living in public fountains who use the coins people make wishes with to buy thimblefuls of coffee– once they’ve granted the wish to the best of their ability, of course
• sphinxes who guard libraries and only ask riddles at the level each passing person is capable of answering
• and werewolves too, I suppose, but they don’t sit around angsting all day about being monsters because there’s a monthly bus service that takes them to special parks just outside the city where they can spend the night running around and roughhousing without hurting anyone. they also get the next two days following the full moon off from work since wolfing is very tiring.
because while cities can be hard, dark, unfriendly places, they’re also vibrant and bright and full of all kinds of wonderful people
yeah but lets be real here if it meant I could live in a world with completely free healthcare and take tours across entire countries on foot with superpowered animal/else companions I would fight a hundred fucking beedrill at once naked with only a butter knife
as i say every time i see this post,
you can catch beedrill and earn the purest fucking love from its little bee heart with a muffin you earn playing a minute of yarn toss
beedrill is not your enemy
Let’s think about life in the Pokemon world for a minute…
First of all, there’s universal free healthcare across the planet. That’s more that a lot of places in our world can say. Moreover, fresh water on this world is apparently so nutrient-rich that it can cure moderate injuries, to say nothing of what berries can do. Therefore, the inhabitants of this world are probably very physically healthy, and those with disabilities (who by default cannot be “healthy”) don’t have to worry about losing their healthcare due to lack of money.
Politics-wise, there isn’t much of a government. Despite this, the world seems relatively peaceful. Private individuals, some as young as eleven, can be expected to deal with crime themselves. War has occurred in the past, but the general political sentiment appears to be very anti-war – cruelty is strongly frowned upon.
Economically, it’s true that there are some people with economic issues – like that one dude in Mauville Hills in ORAS – but generally there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of homelessness or poverty. Some people are more well-off than others – vastly so in some cases – but largely poverty doesn’t seem to exist.
Then there’s the wildlife.
Strange, supernatural creatures of unknown origin and great power populate this planet. An unarmed adult human is no match for even one of these creatures. But the vast majority of the wildlife is extremely friendly to the point where it’s almost all domesticated. Small children are given these creatures as companions and allowed to go out into the open world with them, as they will be safe and able to survive.
Even the scariest of these monsters can be tamed with love and care. Beedrill will love you if you toss yarn at it, sure. So will things like Gyarados, Hydreigon, and the Pokemon equivalent of Lucifer. No Pokemon is untameable so long as you are kind to it.
This in turn has fostered a culture of kindness. It is infinitely more rewarding to be kind to the living creatures around you. Those who are cruel are quickly steamrollered by those who build up close, loving bonds. Even then, a lot of people are concerned that this society of love and kindness is somehow too cruel (to the point where it was the entire plot of gen V).
That love and kindness is extended to all humans. People trust random strangers who walk into their homes. Items are randomly just given out on the street, often for no reward beyond a warm fuzzy feeling. Almost comical levels of generosity and acceptance are expected on this planet. And if you decide to betray that and take advantage of people…
Well, I hope you like having your ass kicked by an adorable eleven-year-old with a nice hat and a yarn-loving Beedrill.
THIS IS SO NICE
I LOVE THIS POST
fun fact, a myth in the pokemon world (specifically DPP) states that pokemon where worried about humans surviving on there own! so they all spoke about how to look after these squishy notpokemon, and they came up with the idea to be companions and friends. so whenever a human that’s trustworthy walks into the grass they present themselves, if a human earns there respect in battle they will aid that human as long as they are needed every pokemon that appears in cave, surfing and tall grass canonically wants to be your friend also unless you use a master ball if a pokemon does not want to be caught It Can’t Be. it’s only by showing of your skill in battle that a pokemon will want to join you. so even legendaries want to be your friend!! that’s why some legendary Pokemon (usually ones who present themselves to you) have low catch rates! they respect you and understand you can use there skill for good!
edit cause i remembered: this could also be used to explain why traded pokemon can disobey you, you didn’t earn the respect of there actual trainer and so you have to have the right skill level (badges, island challenges) for them to listen and trust you
This whole thing is so pure and way better than “Pokemon is superpowered dogfighting!” or whatever.
anon wanted to know about this gal so here’s her blurb from the zine i’m working on :
She gives them a pretty good head start all things
considered. This part of the woods was perfect for running, nice full moon,
well-kept paths. Should be no problem steering them back to the cabin. It was a
standard night. Rowdy idiots come down for a weekend at a deserted cabin, find
disturbing journal written by an unknown author, disobeys its rules for kicks.
The usual. The blond lady trips on what has to be the only rock on the entire
20 mile trail and the man, a hiker they met at the lake, pushes her ahead and
tells her to run. When they reach the cabin door she’s the last one in and but
not the only one to hear the wet impact of crushed meat behind her. The creature
has a huge twisted hand sunk into the hiker’s chest, dragging him into the
trees as he gurgles and twitches on the forest floor. She looks into his wide
glassy eyes one last time and bolts inside, locking the door behind her.
Minutes later Cynthia watched the pandemonium unfold
from her laptop screen on the only good wifi spot for miles. She took another
wet nap and wiped blood off the touchpad. George sat nearby, rinsing out his
chest cavity with a bottle of water. She watched as the terrified group cobbled
together weapons and barricaded doors. George shook the water off of his right
lung and looked over her shoulder.
“They hunkering down Cyn?”
“Yeah,” she took another sip of coffee “looks like
they’re gonna wait it out till morning. Probably for the best by the state of
all those beer cans left at the lake. I’ll call the station and have them
picked up. We spooked ‘em pretty good.” That was an understatement. At least 3
of them had pissed themselves. A personal best.
George sank into the chair beside her. “Serves ‘em
right. Littering, setting off fireworks in one of the driest seasons we’ve had
in years. Fuck ‘em.”
Cynthia pulled her ranger jacket on and poured
another cup of coffee. They had been warned. Said it right there in the
book. She handed the mug to George and
started in on a pack of oreos.
BettSplendens Tumblr Evac 