《The Song of Souls》


 The Song of Souls (Cosmic Horror)

    I am a dreamer. My dreams are more real to me than reality. Here, I pass through each day in a haze, one moment blending into the next, one year blending into another. Most of my memories of the past are hazy at best, slipping through my history like a pickpocket through a crowd, grabbing hold of whatever strikes its fancy with no rhyme or reason I can discern. Faces of friends, words that were spoken, and promises broken all fade into obscurity through the passage of time.


    On the other hand, my dreams are striking and vivid. Each moment has meaning and importance. Every setting is a puzzle to be unraveled. Every person has a role to play. The worst part about my dreams is waking in this world again and feeling the shadows smother my reality again. I find myself trudging through each day, waiting for enough time to pass that I can awaken into the world of my next dream.


    I will tell you of one such dream. Some may call this a nightmare, but to me, it was just another living dream.


    In this world, the world in which I am telling you this story, I have little to no musical talent. I might hum along with a favorite song and maybe tap my feet to a rhythmic beat, but that is the extent of my abilities. However, in the reality of my dream, I was a musician of some skill. Not enough to be important or well known, but good enough that I refused to give up on my dreams of something greater. I poured my heart and soul into my craft, and around me I slowly gathered great debts and fading relationships.


    But I did have this one song I was writing. If I could only finish it, I''m pretty sure I could sell it. I just needed more time to finish it...


    Eventually, things progressed to the point that I could no longer ignore them. I was in danger of losing my apartment and my instruments, and thus my dream. So that was why after a particularly unsatisfying set at a low-paying gig, I actually noticed an advertisement on the grungy particleboard next to my patron''s bar. It simply said, "Wanted, piano tuner." and had a number to call.


    Needing the money, I called the number. I still remember the voice that answered. It was annoyingly curt and oddly snivelly, like the person on the other end was talking through a stuffy nose. "Yes? What?"


    Not sure what to say, I paused a moment. Remembering the debt I owed to all the wrong people, I shook my head and spoke up. "Um... Yeah... I''m calling about an ad for a piano tuner?"


    The voice on the other end suddenly grew warm, though no less snivelly than before. "Oh yes, the ad! We''ve got a number of pianos that need tuning, and we''ll pay well for quality work. Think you''re up to the job?"


    I was a bit taken aback by the sudden change in tone. I stuttered a moment as my eyes blinked while I gathered my thoughts. "Um, well, yes, I''m pretty familiar with tuning most instruments, pianos included, but I don''t have a car, so distance may be an issue. Where''s the job at?"


    The voice grew warmer, but it was the kind of warm that oozed insincerity and condescension. It made my skin crawl. "Oh, you''ve probably never heard of our village, but if you must know, it''s a gated community called Pheaent''s End. Travel is no problem, we will send someone to pick you up. Each house has a piano, and each night you will tune one piano. We will pay you one thousand dollars a night, plus room and board. How soon can you start?"


    I had been just about to turn the job down. As badly as I needed the money, it wasn''t worth dealing with such an arrogant rat of a man, but then he mentioned the pay. "One thousand dollars a night? To tune just one piano each night? Did I hear you correctly?"


    The voice was suddenly smug and satisfied, he had me, and he knew it. "That''s right, one piano, one thousand dollars. So again, how soon can you start?"


    I bit my tongue. I''d lost more than one decently paying job by telling my bosses what I thought of them, but for a thousand dollars a night, for so little work, I could definitely keep those thoughts to myself. "Um, right away, I guess. Just let me go home and get a few things."


    The voice once more returned to its curt manner from the beginning, though it still held a bit of the self-satisfied edge that grated on my bones. "Excellent! Go and get what you need. Our driver will be there shortly!"


    The line went dead before I could tell him where I lived, and I found myself wondering how the driver was going to find me...


    -


    Honestly, I don''t remember much of the drive. We drove past a blur of trees, hills, and houses when finally I realized we''d been driving through a suspiciously isolated forest for some time. I think the thing that struck me most odd was how well maintained the road was. Usually, driving through back hills like this, the road would be dirt, or at the very least full of potholes, but this road looked as though it had been repaved recently. Even the painted lines looked fresh. I was just taking a breath to comment about the oddity of it all when I noticed we were slowing.


    As we turned one last corner, we came to a halt in front of some of the most enormously imposing gates I''d ever seen. They looked as if they were designed to fend off a siege of some kind. As my driver got out to approach the intercom, I couldn''t help but mutter my thoughts out loud. "Or maybe, they''re meant to keep something inside?" I''d meant it as a joke, to lighten the situation a little. Instead, the words echoed around in my head, conjuring all sorts of terrible images and possibilities from my imagination.


    Soon, the gates shook as powerful motors drew them aside. As they withdrew into the walls, I could finally make out what lay beyond. The forest had been deep and oppressive, but before me stood a beautifully picturesque village I¡¯ve ever seen. It could have been taken out of a nineteen-fifties movie if you replaced the houses with mansions.


    Even with the setting sun, everything was bright and cheerful, lawns and gardens were immaculate, and I could even hear birds singing in the distance. I don''t know what I''d been expecting, but this wasn''t it.


    I looked over to my driver, but he just stood there impassively, as though waiting for something. That was when I heard footsteps approaching through the shadows cast by the setting sun. Whoever it was, was certainly coming from some distance away, but they always stayed just within the slowly expanding shadows.


    Finally, as the sun faded from view, I could make out a man approaching. The odd thing is that as I''m writing this, I can''t remember his face. I remember all the specific details. He had a long nose, thin lips, a scraggly attempt at mutton chops, and beady eyes that seemed to dart to and fro, but in my mind, the pieces of the puzzle refuse to come together. They slip and slide around on his face, refusing to form any kind of coherent image.


    Once he was a few feet away, he came to a halt, and a familiar snivelly voice greeted me. "Welcome! Come with me. The first piano awaits!"


    I started to protest, looking back at the car when I noticed the driver was now gone. My guide waved away my concerns. "Do not worry! The driver will deliver your things to the place you''ll be staying. While you''re here, your every need will be seen too. All you have to do is tune the pianos. As I said, the first piano awaits, so please, follow me!"


    Appearing to have little choice in the matter, I complied. As we walked, my guide continued to speak, though I noticed he never bothered to make eye contact. "Your first piano will be in the house of Lord Evens."


    I had to stifle a laugh. ''Lord Evens''? Really? Just how full of themselves were these people? I literally bit my tongue to keep from saying anything as my guide continued. "You''ll find he''s one of the more down-to-earth members of our little community. I thought he would be the best job for you to start out with."


    I simply nodded but didn''t say anything. The only things I could think to say at the moment would probably cost me this job, and I couldn''t afford that. Appearing to find my acknowledgment acceptable, my guide walked the rest of the way in silence. Not having anything productive to say, I did as well.


    He led me into the nearest of the mansions and through several halls decked out in the gaudiest gold trim, tacky statues, and even one gallery featuring honest to god suits of armor. If this ''Lord Evens'' was the most down-to-earth of the lot, I''m not sure I was ready to meet the rest.


    Eventually, we came to a halt in a surprisingly simplistically tasteful room. The centerpiece of it all was an elegant grand piano, the kind of which was obviously worth more than I could make in a year. I looked over at my guide, but he was already turning to leave. "Well, go ahead and get to it. I''m sure Lord Evens will be down to check on your progress shortly." With that, he was gone, and I was now alone in the oppressively silent room.


    Not knowing what else to do, I shrugged and decided to get to work. Sitting down at the piano, I decided to give the keys a quick brush to see how out of tune this piano was. Instead of a cacophony of oscillating tones like I expected, my ears were met with only clear, crisp notes.


    I blinked in confusion for a moment. Maybe this Evens actually knew a thing or two about pianos and kept it relatively in tune? I was probably only there to fine-tune it beyond what he was capable of. Bending closer and angling my ear to hear even the tiniest discrepancies, I struck a single key. The note came back as pure and clean as any I''d ever heard. Working my way up and down the keyboard, every note was the same. This piano was expertly tuned, far better than I could manage.


    I was just sitting back and looking at the piano in confusion when I heard my guide''s footsteps return. Without taking my eyes off the puzzle in front of me, I spoke. "There must be some mistake. This piano is already perfectly tuned."


    I nearly jumped out of my skin when the voice the responded was rich with warmth and mirth, unlike the snivelly tone I''d been expecting. "Oh, excellent! I''ve been practicing my hand at piano tuning. I''m glad to hear my hard work has paid off!"


    Turning around, I was met by a jolly overweight man with a full head of hair and an even fuller beard. I''m reasonably sure he could have passed for anyone''s generic grandfather if he''d not been wearing a business suit that looked as though it cost something upwards of ten grand merely to stitch together. I stuttered a moment before finding my words. "Oh, um, you must be Lord Evens! I''m sorry, I was expecting... uh... someone else."


    Evens smiled. "Oh, don''t worry about it. All these empty halls can play tricks on the ear."


    Not sure what else to say, I started rubbing the back of my neck absentmindedly. "Well, I''m sorry to say I won''t be of much help to you here. This piano is already tuned as well as I could manage, if not better. I guess..." I really didn''t want to say the next part... "I guess you don''t have to pay me tonight."


    Evens smiled delightedly, even as he waved away my concerns. "Nonsense! You came all the way out here at our request. You must be paid! If it''s a matter of pride, I can respect that, so what say we come to a different agreement?"


    I didn''t like where this was going. "What kind of agreement?"


    Even''s smiled again. It was an amiable smile. One I''d seen on a hundred faces a hundred times, but for some reason, on his face, it seemed a little... off. "Oh, nothing too demanding, I assure you! You see, in addition to being a bit of an amateur piano tuner, I''m also a bit of an amateur composer. I''ve written a song for the piano that I''m convinced would be splendid to listen to, but I''m afraid it''s just a little beyond my ability to play. If you play the song for me, we can call that services rendered, and you''ll be paid in full!"


    Feeling like the other shoe had yet to drop, I cautiously agreed. "Alright, I suppose that would be fine. Where''s the song you''d like me to play?"


    Evens nodded at the piano behind me. "Why, it''s already set up, ready to go."


    Turning back around to face the piano, I could see he was right. I didn''t remember the sheet music being there before, but maybe I''d just been so focused on the tuning that it had escaped my notice.


    Stepping closer to get a better look, I noticed the sheet was odd. It was as though it was constantly shifting and moving. Any note I focused on froze in place, but all the rest seemed to be in constant flux. It made my head hurt just to look at it. Turning back to Evens with my confusion probably evident, I couldn''t help but express my doubts. "I''m sorry, sir, but I don''t think I''m good enough to play this either. Something about this song is..."


    Evens cut me off. "Oh, don''t worry about it. I''m not expecting you to play it perfectly, just take it one note at a time and see how it sounds! If it''s a matter of money, I''ll even double your pay for the night!"


    Two thousand dollars just to play one song? It didn''t matter how weird this place was or how big a headache I got looking at the music. I was gonna give it my best shot.


    I sat down and focused my attention on the first note, freezing it in place under my scrutiny. Upon striking the key, the following note froze as well, then another, and another. Soon I was playing the single most beautiful piece of music I''d ever heard.


    As I write this, the song has completely faded from my memory. I can''t so much as hum a single bar. What I do remember is what I felt as I played. This song was the very essence of sadness and loss. I could feel tears running freely down my face as I fell into the song. The music spoke to me of lost loves, faded dreams, forgotten summers, and more. Even when I closed my eyes, the music continued to come to me unbidden, and my fingers danced the keys of the piano as though I''d known this song my entire life.


    I have no idea how long I played, but eventually, my trance was broken by the light of the rising sun shining through the window. My fingers ached, my back was sore, and I felt like I was dying of hunger and thirst, but I didn''t care. Playing that song had been the single greatest moment of my life. If I died right then, I could die happy.


    Judging by the look on lord Even''s face, he agreed. With a nod of his head, he held out the promised money. Two thousand dollars. I took it without saying a word and turned to leave the same way I''d come in. As I walked through the halls I¡¯d walked through before, everything passed in a blur. None of that mattered. Instead, I was trying desperately to hold onto the song that was already fading from my memory. However, as soon as I set foot outside the mansion, the music was gone forever.


    Try as I might, I couldn''t remember a single note to add to my song.


    -


    The next night I found myself following my guide once again. This time he led me to a mansion with deep red curtains, beautifully carved masonry, and even a sizable ornate fountain as a centerpiece out in front of the main entrance. It was so stereotypical of something I might expect a mansion to look like as a child, I had to bite my tongue once again.


    After the silence of our walk, I jumped a bit when my guide''s snivelly voice cut into my thoughts. "This is the home of Lady Scarlet. She''s a bit more... aggressive than your first client, but as long as you fulfill your role, she''ll leave you be. Just be sure to mind your manners."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Walking into the mansion, I could see the room was adorned in red, from the carpet to the drapery. I thought that ''Lady Scarlet'' might be a little too on the nose, but remembering my guide''s warning, I kept that thought to myself.


    I wasn''t sure when my guide left my side, but it didn''t seem to matter because there was the piano I was here to tune, right in the middle of the room. It was a lithe but elegant piece, made from cherry wood with gold leaf highlights and polished to perfection.


    Sitting down, I couldn''t help but grow suspicious. With a slight frown, I tested my suspicion by striking a key. As I''d expected, the sound that rang out was crystal clear. This piano was also tuned to perfection.


    This time I was expecting the voice that purred out of the darkness behind me. "Hmmm, she does have a lovely voice, doesn''t she?"


    Turning around, I saw a woman who could only be Lady Scarlet. She was dressed in a sleek, form-fitting gown, red of course, accented by red gloves and a red hat. It would have been far too much red on anyone but her, but somehow she pulled it off.


    As she approached me, I couldn''t help but notice she moved with unearthly grace, undulating like a snake slipping across the floor. Even her eyes were those of a preditor, and I was definitely the prey.


    She stopped short and shifted her attention from me to the piano. "So why aren''t you tending to her needs?"


    I suppose Lady Scarlet should have been attractive. Certainly, she fit all criteria. But when her attention shifted back from the piano to me again, I couldn''t help but wish she''d rest her gaze anywhere other than on myself. It was starting to seem like everything about this place was off by just the slightest margins, and it was really starting to unsettle me more and more as time went on.


    Taking a deep breath, I decided to answer her, if only to break the uncomfortable silence that came with her stare. "Um, well, it seems your piano has already been tuned. I''m afraid there''s not much I can do here."


    Lady Scarlet''s eyes flashed, and in them, I saw the promise of violence. "So you just came here to waste my time?"


    Remembering my guide''s final warning, I tried again, this time with better manners. "I apologize, Lady Scarlet, but this piano is beyond my ability to tune. If I tried, I''m afraid I would only make it worse. Since I was unable to help you this evening, you don''t need to worry about the fee."


    She laughed derisively. "Do I look like your fee is of any consequence to myself? My time is far more valuable than that paltry money. In return for wasting my time, I demand a service out of you!"


    I quickly realized where this was going. Turning around, I saw some sheet music waiting for me on the piano. Just like before, it hurt to look at, though this time, the hand that scrawled the notes was obviously more aggressive than before. The notes were sharply written, almost jagged in form. The pace was sharp and rappid. At a glance, it looked like the song could only be a bundle of incoherent noise, but then I struck the first chord.


    Just like before, I quickly fell into the music as I played it. Just like before, all I remember are the thoughts and impressions I had of the music. This song was angry and violent. It voicelessly sang to me of scorned love, betrail, revenge, and murder. I remember thinking at one point, my fingers must have blistered and broken because it felt like the keys were soaked in blood, but I didn''t dare to look.


    Instead, I lost myself in the music again. I could feel my heartbeat tied to the tempo of the song. During the violent climax, I experienced a surge of adrenaline and felt my face twist into a gleeful snarl of hate. At the conclusion, my heartbeat slowed, and the adrenaline faded, but the hatred remained. It became a cold vice that wrapped itself around my heart, and I knew that same violence would only ever be a heartbeat away.


    The feeling only passed when the rays of the rising sun once again pierced through my window, and I once again felt myself break from whatever trance the music had placed me in.


    To my relief, when I turned around this time, the client was not there. Instead, there was an envelope with my pay inside. I picked it up and left the mansion as quickly as possible without breaking into a run. After all, a predator like that was more likely to give chase if I did.


    I barely thought about the fact that I forgot the music again.


    -


    Each night passed much the same. My guide would take me to another mansion with a perfectly tuned piano and a host who seemed just a little off. I would play a piece of powerful music until dawn, then I''d get paid and leave. The most maddening thing was that no matter how hard I tried, I could never remember a single song once I set foot outside the mansion.


    I''m not sure how long things went on like this. Maybe it would have gone on forever. Certainly, there seemed to be no end of mansions in sight. Then one morning, everything changed.


    As I was leaving a mansion owned by a man who was friendly in all the wrong ways, a voice called out to me. This voice sounded almost like someone was vomiting out the words rather than speaking them. Turning to see who''s called out, I saw something I hadn''t ever expected to see in this place.


    Standing before me was a homeless man, one who''d obviously gotten where he was through hard living and bad decisions. His teeth were rotten, his breath smelled of death, and the stains on his coat spoke of violence and worse.


    I shook my head. This place must be getting to me. I wasn''t the type to look down on someone just because they''d had a run of bad luck. Hell, I''d almost gone down that road myself before I found this job. Given my current financial well-being, the least I could do was spare a bit of time and money to help this man get a bit of food in his stomach or even just forget about his problems for a while if he spent the money in a different way.


    Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out some cash and held it out. I didn''t look too close at how much I grabbed, but it was probably close to a hundred, give or take.


    The vagabond gave me a smile that sent shivers up and down my spine before batting my hand away. When he spoke, I was almost too distracted by holding my breath to pay attention to his words. "I''m not asking for your help kid, I''m offering you mine. Doesn''t this job seem a little too good to be true? Doesn''t something seem off about this place?"


    I blinked a few times as I considered his words. He was right. Something did definitely seem off about this place and its people. Why have I never heard of a place this outlandish so near my home?


    Seeing the gears in my head start to turn, the man smiled, and I could clearly see his bleeding gums. "Tell me, what have you done with all that money they''ve been giving you? When was the last time you actually went back to the free room they offered you? When was the last time you remember sleeping?"


    His words were absurd. Of course I''ve been going back to my room and sleeping. That''s where I''d been headed when he interrupted me after all. What else would I do during the day while I waited for my next job?


    That was when I noticed it wasn''t day any longer. At some point, the sun had set again, and it was night once more. I blinked stupidly as I tried to understand what was happening when he spoke again. "Or maybe, you''ve just been going from one job to the next without end? Constantly playing strange music and feeling like you''re just a little more exhausted each time?"


    I was exhausted, but I tried to tell myself that it was just because of how hard I''ve been working. But that didn''t explain why I couldn''t remember ever going to my room or sleeping. It didn''t explain why everything in this place seemed to be so close to normal but so offputting.


    The man shook his head as if I was a particularly dim-witted student. "This village is old, far older than you realize, and the people in it are even older still. They each sold their souls to various gods, demons, and devils in return for money, power, and longevity. But those gifts aren''t free. You see, their patrons require payment for their services. That payment is made in souls."


    I laughed. It was meant to be dismissive laughter. This man had obviously gone insane and was spewing nonsense. However, the laughter that left my mouth started out a little unsettled before slowly shifting to the laughter of a doomed man hiding behind his own delusions in the face of the nightmare his life was becoming.


    The drifter laughed with me. "You get it now! You''re nothing more than some stupid beast being led to the slaughter! The best part is, it no longer matters! You can''t do anything to save yourself! From the moment you played the first note of that first song, your fate was sealed, and your soul is no longer your own!"


    He waited a moment while I caught my breath, then shifted from idiotic laughter to stoic placidity in the blink of an eye. "But there is still one thing you can do."


    Just like that, he held my attention once again. "I thought you said I couldn''t save myself?"


    He grinned, but this wasn''t the mad grin from before. It was still insane, but for the second time since arriving here, I felt like I was looking into the eyes of a preditor. "You can''t. But, you can take them with you. As old and powerful as these people are, and as old and powerful as the gods they worship are, there are still things beyond the scope of their understanding. Things that existed before reality as we know it had form. Things that cannot be named or understood. They offer no gifts but a death so complete even your soul won¡¯t escape. If you call them here, well, at least you''ll know you won''t die alone."


    As he spoke, his words tore at my soul. I knew everything he said was true. I can''t explain it or even understand it, but at that moment, he and I existed at the same place at the same time, and I would feel the certainty and honesty of his words.


    Stepping back into myself, I shook my head. "How do I call them?"


    He smiled again, though this time, his mouth was suddenly full of unnervingly sharp teeth. "How else? You play their song!"


    He reached out and placed a crumpled ball of paper in my hands. It was so rumpled, stained, and torn that I was sure it must have been useless, but before I could say anything, the man was gone, and I could hear footsteps behind me. I pocketed the paper before turning around.


    There, moving at a rushed pace for the first time I could remember, was my guide. He seemed relieved to have found me. "There you are! I''ve been looking all over! You''re late for your next job, now hurry!"


    I debated asking questions or just saying ''Screw this!'' and walking away, but before I could choose either my guide grabbed me by the wrist and started walking away. His grip was so tight, it felt like my arm was in danger of having its bones crushed, so rather than fight, I started followed.


    I could hear his snivelly voice droning on about something as we walked. He was probably telling me about the next mansion and its host, but I couldn''t focus enough to make any sense out of it. Instead, my mind was replaying all the things the vagabond had told me.


    Over the last week, things like long spacious halls filled to the brim with priceless artifacts had stopped impressing me. It was the norm here, and I honestly couldn''t care less what gold leaf trim this particular host chose for hall. One vase caught my eye though. As I looked at it, I wondered if it had been genuinely priceless or if a price had been paid. How much of a soul did this vase cost? Or did souls vary in worth? Was the soul of a good man worth more than another? Or maybe it was their futures that determined their worth? Perhaps the future of a med student who would have gone on to cure cancer was savored like a fine wine...


    I shook my head. I was approaching the piano now. My guide had already left my side, and my host had yet to show their face. I didn''t bother to check the piano. I already knew it was going to be in perfect tune. Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the crumpled paper the mad vagabond handed me earlier.


    As I looked at the paper, I hesitated. Even folded in this manner, it seemed to ooze malevolence. Honestly, my hand felt filthy just by virtue of physical contact. This paper was wrong. The deepest, most primitive parts of my brain knew that this thing was blasphemy to all of creation. The...thing in my hands could not exist, and if I so much as acknowledged it, I would already be giving it far more power than any sane man should.


    Slowly, I pulled at the corners of the thing, straightening it into something that vaguely resembled the outline of a sheet of music. I say outline because I could not focus on the actual paper. My eyes kept slipping from one side to the other, refusing to rest on what lay between the borders of the page.


    I placed the paper on the music desk. It was harder to do than I thought it would be. The piano seemed to shy away from the sheet as I pushed it forward. I could hear the wood of the piano creaking and groaning as it twisted and pulled away from the blasphemy I was forcing on it.


    I focused my eyes on the notes. At first, all I saw was void, then, a twisted parody of my face came into focus.. The face I laughed, cried, and gnashed its teeth before fading from view, leaving the notes where my haunted, sunken eyes had been.


    The notes hurt to look at. Not like the notes from the previous music sheets, these hurt because they did not exist, nor did anything around them. The notes were holes in reality, glimpses into the chaos hidden by the lie of order. I felt myself crying, but after wiping my face, my hands came away bloody.


    I raised my hands. The weight of all reality pushed down, trying to prevent what was happening. The screams of everyone past, present, and never to come echoed through the hall, begging me to stop, asking if my soul demanded such a high price that all of reality must pay its debt.


    I hesitated. This was that point, the point of no return. If I went any further, I was condemning everything and everyone to a reality without time, sanity, or existence. In its place would burn an inferno of chaos and ever-living death. Did I really want to do this?


    Then the door opposite the piano slammed open. There, looking down at me, was the most ostentatious peacock of a man I''d ever witnessed. He glared at me with fury plain on his face. "Who are you? You¡¯re not fit to stain my mansion with your filth! You are a blight in my eyes that must be removed! Begone! My sacrifice is coming, and this room must be pristine for his performance!"


    I couldn''t help myself. I laughed. Well, it was more of a giggle, really, a high-pitched jaggedly titter of a sound that had no sanity or mirth behind it. I could feel my tears begin to fall again, staining the piano with my life.


    My host''s face contorted with disgust. "What is wrong with you man? This isn''t some charity or hospital for you to defile with your presence!" He came stomping around, only to freeze in place once he saw the sheet music befouling his piano. "Where did you get that? Do you know what that is? What it could do?"


    I smiled, though I could feel the smile twisting farther than my lips could follow as I responded. "It is the answer. THE TRUTH! It is the unholy holy reality of all things. If I play this music, all your little empires will crumble to dust, and you will join me in filth, burning and screaming forever! All the little teeth will dance across your bones! It will open your eyes! And we will ALL finally...awaken..."


    As I spoke, I could see his disgust turn to fear, then terror. He reached out to slap me. I didn''t feel the impact. He grabbed my arms and tried to pull me away, but I''d just resisted everything all of reality could bring to bear, and he was no more successful than it had been. He reached for the music but stopped. As he sat there, I knew he was hearing them. The voices.


    I don''t know when they''d started chittering in my ear. Maybe it was a moment ago when I''d been about to play the music. Or perhaps it was back when I''d met the vagrant. That wasn''t right... Maybe they''d been here in this village the whole time? No, these voices had always been here, with me, chittering and chatting away, day in and day out, feeding me madness and feeding off my pain.


    The madness¡­ What was it they fed me? I lost it, when I gave it to that boy who never was¡­ Looking at the music again, I recognized it. This was the music I''d written my whole life. Always scribbling and scrawling away. Each and every note was written in my own hand. Even now, I could see myself in the past, absently scrawling on the sheet while I worried about the bills I had to pay.


    Looking down, I realized I was wearing the vagabond''s coat. When had I taken his coat? Wait, no, it wasn''t his coat, it was my coat. The coat I was going to wear, in the future that will never happen, when I give myself the music that doesn''t exist...


    I twisted my head to look at the man frozen in fear. My head was bent in the most horrendously impossible way as I gifted him with the most comforting smile of hunger I could offer. "Such a lovely peacock you''ll make, cooked and set neatly next to the pheasant. I wonder how your soul will taste to mine as we are both devoured in the mind of the sleeper that wakes?"


    For some reason, my words of comfort seemed to upset the poor young man. As I slammed my hand down to play the first note, he ran screaming into the night. The notes and chords rent the air, and desperate cries began to fill the streets. My laughter joined the music, and I knew that I had written it in from the beginning, each vocal expulsion playing in perfect harmony with the chorus. Soon the screams, begging, and crying in the streets joined in as well. The pleasant color of warm, cheerful fires in the street accented the blood-stained windows, bathing the room in the most beautiful red light. I''m sure Lady Scarlet would have approved if her soul wasn''t currently being torn into savory strips to be devoured at leisure.


    I laughed, played, and cried. My tears joined the blood of my fingers on the sticky keys as the furious beauty of my music tore me to pieces, but still, I played on. My laughter gave out as my vocal cords were pulled from my throat, but still, I played on. The world was burning, I was burning, the sleeper was awakening, but still, I played on. I would play on forever! I would play on until the end! I would play on until...


    -


    After that, my dream ended, and I awoke to this world once again. This dull,grey, lifeless world. The world in which I tell my stories. The stories that were once told to me. I hear the stories from the voices. The chittering and chatting voices that are always with me, telling me dreams to write down. I''m always writing this story, scribbling and scrabbling away, but my story is almost finished.


    Soon, I will awaken...

 Every night I have the same dream, its slowly getting more clear. (Cosmic Horror, Romance)

    June 25th


    Every night for the last month, I''ve had the same dream, and every time I have the dream, it becomes a little more clear. I''m keeping this journal in an attempt to track the dream and see if I can make sense of the whole thing.


    The dream simply consisted of dark amorphous shapes and sounds for a long time, but last night, it finally became clear enough that I could tell the sounds and shapes were actually a multitude of chanting hooded figures.


    As soon as I came to that realization, I shot up in bed. My heart was pounding in my chest, my face was plastered in sweat, and I was gasping for air. The sudden absence of the chanting made the room oppressively silent. Beside me, a sleepy halting voice cut through the gloom. "What''s the matter babe? What''s wrong?"


    A hand was gently rubbing my back, helping to anchor me back in reality and chase away the last vestiges of the nightmare. I reached behind myself to grab the arm and pull it to my lips to kiss my partner''s palm. "Nothin darlin, it''s just that stupid dream again."


    Venessa''s voice creaked with sleepiness. "Not again, you had enough trouble sleeping before that dream started making it worse. I don''t like what it''s doing to you... Here don''t forget to take your sleeping pills."


    I took the pills she''d taken from our nightstand and downed them with the glass of water she held out to me. She was right, luckily it was the weekend, and I could sleep in a little to make up for the interruption the nightmare caused. Her voice helped my heart calm down a little more, and I ran a hand through my mess of hair. "This time, it got clear enough for me to realize some of what''s going on."


    The hand I was holding seemed to grow a little colder, and the voice was suddenly very awake. "What did you see?"


    I was rubbing my eyes to help them focus properly and chase away the vision from my dream. As I answered, my voice was still a little shaky. "The shapes seemed to be a gathering of robbed people, and they were either chanting or singing."


    Looking over at Venessa, I thought I saw a touch of fear in her eyes, but then she blinked and it was gone, so I wasn''t sure. She reached for me as she spoke. "Well, it''s only a dream, and we need to find a way to help you forget about it for a while. Come here!"


    With that, Venessa drew me into a passionate kiss, and I forgot all about nightmares and chanting for a while.


    July 2nd


    I had the same dream again, like I do every night, but as usual, I could make out a little more. One voice was leading the rest in their chant. For the most part, it was just a jumble of sounds that made no sense, I could only tell it was chanting because of the rhythmic nature of the voices, but one line came through clear as day. "She hungers!"


    I''m not sure why, but those words seemed familiar somehow. As though they are buried in the deepest recesses of my memories. Like I''ve heard them spoken in that same voice before, but no matter how hard I try, I just can''t remember when...


    This would all be driving me insane if it weren''t for Venessa by my side. She is my rock through all of this. She''s always there to chase away the dreams, to calm my fears, and to soothe me back to sleep. Without her, I don''t think I''d have gotten what little sleep I have over the last few weeks.


    I''ve had little enough sleep as it is. It''s gotten so bad that I think I might have started hallucinating. When I woke up after hearing, ''she hungers!'' I could have sworn for the briefest moment that Venessa''s eyes were black, as though they were all pupal. I blinked to clear my vision and realized immediately that Venessa''s eyes were closed, and she was still asleep.


    I shook my head, mentally reprimanding myself for letting the stupid dream get to me in the waking world. The motion was just enough to wake Venessa beside me. Without opening her eyes, she reached out and wrapped herself around me, pulling me into a hug. Her voice was barely a mumbled moan. "It''s that stupid dream again, isn''t it..."


    I mussed up her hair and grinned a little sadly. "Yeah, afraid so. This time I could even make out some of the words..."


    Venessa''s hug suddenly tightened, almost like a spasm of some kind. I instinctively reached down and pulled at her arm. "A little tight there babe, that hurts."


    Her grip didn''t loosen at all. Instead, I heard her voice come out of the bundle of arms that now hid her face from me. The tone was utterly flat. "What did they say?"


    If I didn''t know any better, I''d swear she was trying to hide the sound of fear in her voice. I wasn''t sure if my answer would help or hurt, but I wasn''t in the habit of hiding things from my partner. We''ve been through too much these last few months together. "They said something about some woman hungering."


    Venessa wrapped even more of her body around mine, her legs were now entwined with my own. "I don''t like what that stupid dream is doing to you! I''m worried about you..." At first, her voice had sounded angry... I''ve never heard her get angry at, well, anything before. That seems a little odd now that I think about it.


    I gave up on prying Venessa loose and instead rubbed her back as I spoke. "You know I''d make it go away if I could babe. This has been a long month for us both."


    Venessa laughed at that, but it wasn''t the pure happy laugh I was familiar with, this was a darker laugh filled with exhaustion and sadness. "Has it only been a month? It feels like so much longer..."


    That was when Venessa seemed to steel her resolve. I could almost feel determination flowing from her into me. "It doesn''t matter! We''ll get through this together, I''m never going to leave your side!"


    My heart skipped a beat looking down at the amazing woman by my side. She was the most beautiful thing in my world, and I didn''t deserve her.


    She finally uncoiled herself from around me and reached over to the nightstand. "Here, take your pills, they''ll help you get back to sleep."


    I thanked her and downed the pills with the glass of water she held out to me. At least it was the weekend, and we could sleep in a little late together.


    July 9th


    This time I could make out more of the chanting, but it wasn''t in any language I''ve heard spoken before. At first, I thought it might be Latin or some other dead language, but the ''words'' coming out of the priest''s mouth didn''t sound like they had been designed with human mouths in mind. It seemed almost like he was swallowing his own tongue for some syllables, and practically retching out the rest. The last bit was the now-familiar, "she hungers!" Then, he plunged a knife down. As the blade made impact, I shot bolt upright in bed.


    Looking over at my partner as I gasped for air, I was amazed at how beautiful she looked with her hair blowing in the breeze... That was when my sleep-deprived brain finally forced me to look up, and I realized the window wasn''t open. In addition to that, I couldn''t feel any breeze that could stir her hair.


    My mind was caught in a game of tug of war as I struggled to decide whether to look back at down at Venessa or not. I''m not sure I wanted to know the answer to that riddle.


    Slowly, almost against my will, my eyes crept back down to the sleeping form of my partner. As I looked, her hair still waved about, almost more like tentacles than hair. I watched, frozen in horror as one lock of hair reached out for me and slowly wrapped itself around the wrist I had planted in the bed closest to Venessa.


    I cried out something intelligible and ripped my hand away! The hair held tight, and I felt Venessa''s head jerk as I pulled. Her eyes snapped open as she reached for the top of her head. "Owe! What was that for?" Her eyes glared at me, filled with questions and worry.


    My eyes remained fixed on the offending strands of hair, now lying limply on the bed, my answer came shakily. "Y... your hair! It was alive and moving! It grabbed ahold of my wrist!"


    I was expecting a look of disbelief or maybe even condescension. Instead, I saw the same look of fear as before, mixed with... regret? Then she blinked, and just like before, any hint that something was wrong was gone.


    When she spoke, Venessa''s voice held nothing but concern and affection for me. "Are you ok love? Did you take your sleeping pills tonight?"


    Venessa reached over to the nightstand and handed me my pills and the glass of water we kept on the nightstand. I was just about to take them when I stopped and looked a little closer at them. They were both a translucent blood red color. When did I get these pills? I couldn''t remember seeing a doctor for a prescription, and they didn''t look like any over the counter sleep meds I was aware of. As an insomniac, I''ve tried them all over the years.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    As I suspiciously stared at the pills in my hand, Venessa spoke up beside me. "Just take your medicine love. At least you only seem to forget to take them on the weekend, so we can sleep in a little in the morning."


    That also triggered a little something odd in my mind. Why does it always seem to be Saturday night? I know I worked most of the week, but try as I might I couldn''t remember any specifics. I remember the days being long and tedious, but I couldn''t remember any conversations I had, or any specific tasks I accomplished. Just some vague memories of working in a field, but a field of what? Why couldn''t I picture the faces of anyone I worked with?


    The fear in Venessa''s eyes was starting to return, then she blinked, and it was gone again. However, I just stared at her eyes in horror. Her eyes had blinked wrong. The eyelids had come from the sides of her eyes, not the top or bottom the way they should.


    The panic must have been plain to see on my face because the fear returned to her eyes as quickly as it had left. "What''s the matter? Just take your medication, then we can..."


    I threw the pills away before turning back to the woman whose eyes had returned to all pupal, just as I remembered from a week ago. Or was it yesterday? Why does the outline of Venessa''s body seem to blur more and more as I try and focus on her? Is she sitting on the bed, or does her torso really disappear into the bed? Are the sheets and blankets really moving with her agitation? As she leans forward, all I can see is love and concern in those pitch-black eyes. As I struggle to pull away mouths open in the bed and bite down on my limbs just hard enough that I''m held firmly, but gently, in place.


    Venessa wraps me in a warm and protective embrace as every surface in the room sprouts countless misshapen black eyes filled with love and concern. Her words come out in a trembling whisper echoed by mouths in the sheets and on the mattress, and I can feel her need for me to listen. "I''m sorry, I''m so sorry. Please forget this and go back to sleep. Please, realize this is all a dream. I love you. Please come back to me!"


    The mouths in the bed me drew me deeper inside themselves, inside Venessa. It was all too much for my mind to accept, and I blacked out.


    July 16th


    The men were back, but this time I could clearly see their faces. I was begging them to let me go, to untie me. Instead, their chanting just increased in volume and tempo, soon I could feel my heart pumping faster to keep pace with the chanting.


    They were still chanting in that strange alien tongue, but bits and pieces of the chant were starting to make sense, and I was able to pick out phrases here and there. "She who hungers! We offer sacrifice! Gift of life evermore! Accept our sacrifice!" and finally, "She hungers!"


    With that last phrase, the priest brought down his knife just as he had before, but this time I didn''t wake up. As his knife entered my heart, my vision blurred, shadowed, then went black. I slowly rose above my body just in time to see the nightmare, surely born of insanity, that descended upon my body and devoured it whole.


    The cultists writhed in worship and adulation until countless tendrils extended from the nightmare and grabbed hold of the priest who''d led the ritual.


    He screamed as he was torn into pieces, each of which was drawn into one of the thing''s myriads of maws.


    Immediately all cultists screamed and ran, but none escaped the grasp of she that hungers. One by one, they were dragged screaming before it, torn apart, and devoured.


    I floated above the nightmare, unable to move as the beast approached my spirit, and tenderly, almost lovingly, the tendrils grabbed me and drew me whole inside the largest of its maws.


    Then I woke up.


    This time I wasn''t in bed. I was standing in an infinite plane of pain and torment. I could hear the screams of the cultists and countless other souls who had summoned the beast over the ages.


    Before me stood Venessa.


    I collapsed on the ground, covering my eyes and ears, trying desperately to wake up again and escape this nightmare.


    But it didn''t go away.


    After what seemed like an eternity, I could feel Vanessa''s arms wrap around me to comfort me. I could feel the nightmares tendrils wrap around me to consume me. Though my eyes were closed tight, all I could see were mouths and eyes all focused on me, all hungry for me.


    Then I heard Venessa''s voice. "You are safe here with me! Nothing here can harm you! These visions you see are born of the horrors contained within your memories. Just think of me, Venessa, the woman who loves you! Forget the horrors of your memories, turn away from it all, and just think of me. Listen to my voice, and follow it out of your nightmare."


    The screams faded, and in my mind, I could see the eyes and mouths slowly close. Pretty soon, all I could hear was the voice of Venessa heavy with emotion. "You''re safe. You''re ok. I''ve got you. I''ll never leave you. You''re safe."


    When I opened my eyes again, I was in a featureless empty wite room, and before me stood Venessa. Just Venessa this time.


    Looking her right in the eyes, I couldn''t hide from the truth any longer. I ran trembling hands through my hair, and when I spoke, my voice was half sob and half whisper. "My dream isn''t a dream. It really happened."


    Venessa raised a hand like she wanted to reach out and hold me, then dropped her arm to her side and lowered her head. Her voice was a whisper filled with sorrow. She only said one word. "Yes."


    I raised my hand and pointed at her. "They killed me, and you... you..."


    I couldn''t finish the thought, my voice caught in my throat, my arms fell as I lost the will to do anything more.


    Venessa looked up, met my eyes, and finished my thought for me. "And I devoured you."


    My vision started to blur, and the eyes and mouths began to open around me again. I screwed my own eyes shut as tight as I could, but the visions pierced through, into my mind. I started to collapse again, but I was caught and held in a tight embrace this time. "I told you, none of this is real, you''re safe, nothing can ever hurt you again."


    I pushed away from Venessa an accusation in my eyes as I pointed at her again. "What do you mean, none of this is real? You ate me! My body is slowly digesting in your stomach as we speak! How long before my spirit is gone too? How long before I cease to exist?"


    Venessa tilted her head and considered me for a moment. "How long do you think you''ve been here?"


    I looked around at the plain white room. I never even noticed when the eyes and mouths had gone away this time. Now there was just me, Venessa, and the question. "I... I don''t know. A day, a week, a month?"


    Venessa''s smiled in a way that told me I was going to have a hard time understanding the answer. "Well, in this place, time is what you perceive it to be and nothing more, but you could more easily measure the time you''ve spent with me, in centuries."


    As soon as Venessa finished speaking, fragments of lifetimes of memories flooded back into my head. In every one of them, Venessa was by my side.


    It was dizzying and took me more than a moment to process. "What happened? Why can''t I remember everything? Why is it so fragmented."


    Venessa simply looked tired as she explained, as though she''d explained this countless times before. "This is all an awful lot for a human mind to process. Eventually, it just becomes... too much. It always starts with the nightmares, and slowly, but inevitably, everything collapses."


    She grinned a little, and her voice contained a soft laughter as she continued. "Sometimes, you try to kill me. You can be quite valiant and brave when facing down your living nightmare!" She sounded oddly proud of me when she said that. "Of course, a human trying to kill... me... is about as effective as an unarmed toddler attacking a seasoned warrior."


    Her head tilted to the side, and Venessa''s voice took on a more sorrowful tone. "Other times, you try to kill yourself to escape. But you are a part of me now, and you can''t kill yourself any more than you can kill me."


    Her voice became low, and Venessa fidgeted in place like she was uncomfortable with the next part. "Other times, you really lose it, and you try to... worship me. You''ve offered yourself up as a sacrifice on multiple occasions... I don''t... I don''t like it when you do that."


    Something about seeing this... (demon, elder god, nightmare?) fidget in place uncomfortably was so surreal it snapped me out of... whatever haze I found myself in, and I laughed.


    I laughed long and hard. I laughed out my fear, my nightmares, my confusion, my pain, and more. I laughed until my throat was raw, my head ached, and I finally collapsed in exhaustion.


    Venessa''s voice was genuinely pained when she spoke. "So it''s the insanity and worship thing again? Alright, let''s get your mind cleared and start you over again."


    As she reached for me, I weakly batted her arms away before replying. "No, I''m not worshiping you, although I might have ''really lost it,'' as you said. However, I feel strangely fine with all this." As I spoke, the memories of all the times I''d finally snapped passed through my head. This felt... different.


    I gestured around, and the eyes and mouths began to appear again, but I took a deep breath, steadied my mind, and they started to fade on their own accord this time.


    I raised my head and looked Venessa in her big, beautiful, impossibly black eyes. "Listen, I don''t know how long this''ll last, but what say we continue as is for a little while longer. I''d like to get to know the real you instead of the Venessa you created for my waking dreams. I might not be able to handle it, but I''d like to try."


    Venessa looked truly surprised for the first time I could remember in any of my fragmented memories. Her mouth(s) opened and closed a few times before she finally studdered her reply. "Um... wow... this is new! Ok! Let''s give it a try!"


    As Venessa reached out to take my hand, I saw a ripple of eyes and mouths pass over her, through the floor, and out into... whatever this place is. It was... an odd sensation, to say the least.


    She pulled me into an odd embrace where I was held by too many arms. I''m proud to say I only closed my eyes a moment or two before reopening them and looking into the eyes of the woman who''d stood beside me for countless lifetimes. "What say we take it slow though, I''m still... adjusting."


    Venessa gave me a warm smile with only a few too many teeth before she hugged me again and whispered into my ear. "Of course, love, you lead the way. I''ll follow wherever you''d like to go."


    Today.


    That brings us to how I''m writing this journal for you all to read. Well, I suppose Venessa is doing the writing, I''m just dictating. She agreed to return to earth long enough to type this up and post it on my behalf. I''m happy to say that the poor man whose computer we borrowed will likely make a full recovery. He only caught the briefest of glimpses of us before passing out, and will probably wake up wondering when he typed this story and might even convince himself it was all a dream.


    I''m not sure how long this ''lucid'' time will last, but I''ll keep it going as long as possible. Venessa tells me this is the happiest she''s been since she first experienced our understanding of the concept of time. We''re off to visit the moons of Jupiter, I guess it''s kind of a long, long, overdue honeymoon, of a sort. Not that we''ve been officially married or anything, it would be hard to find someone who could stay sane long enough to officiate a ceremony, and I guess ''till death do you part'' doesn''t apply in our case anyway. For now I''ll just say, good night to you all, and...


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 Howdy! from Hell. (Comedy)

    Howdy! from Hell.


    Vivian found herself in quite a dilemma. Even her best demon couldn''t break this subject. His resilience was apparently more than anyone in her department could handle. When she asked Volgaf what was so difficult about this one, he looked confused and ashamed as he shrugged. "I dunno, boss. He''s just so...weird. It gets to ya after a while."


    Well, enough was enough. How did the human saying go? If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. She fixed her best "I''ve tortured so many people I find your attempt at bravado boring" expression in place and marched into the cell.


    Suspended by his wrists to the opposite wall was the subject. His current physical manifestation had only been around long enough for it to grow the shadow of a beard. As was standard procedure, he was primarily naked to make him feel ashamed and vulnerable. His physique was nothing special, even by human standards. His muscles were underdeveloped, and he had a bit of a belly on him, but nothing else note-worthy stuck out.


    Right now, the subject was still intact since, in his frustration, Volgaf had apparently atomized the subject''s last body, and this one was newly issued, all of its musculature and nerves intact. This should have been just another victim in an endless sea of victims Vivian had tormented, but something was off. This one was smiling.


    Vivian kept her face carefully neutral as he attempted to wave with one of his manacled hands while grinning. "Well, howdy! Yer a new face around here! What happened to old Volgaf? Last I remembered, he was saying it was time someone else dealt with me. I''m guessing that someone is you?"


    The deviless stared at him a moment, trying to understand what was happening before she responded. "You...you do know I''m here to torture you, right?"


    The subject nodded. "Yup, and we''ll get there shortly, I''m sure, but yer just doin yer job, and that''s no reason to spoil a perfectly delightful conversation before that!"


    He looked thoughtful a moment before his expression changed to some sort of confusion or consternation. "Oh, but where are my manners? Name''s Alen Smith. Nice to meetcha! Miss...?"


    Vivian sneered. "You may call me Mistress Vivian. I''ve broken the spirits of countless souls in Hell, and soon you will be no different..."


    Alen smiled and nodded, his head bobbing up and down in a congenial way that infuriated Vivian. "Oh, I''m sure of that! No doubt about it! As soon as you walked in, I said to myself, ''Now there''s a woman who knows her business! Yer in for it this time, Alen!''"


    He looked thoughtful a moment before his expression turned apologetic. "But I''m afraid Mistress Vivian is just too much of a mouthful for little old me! So I''ll just call you Vivian, and you can call me Alen. I''m pretty sure before we''re done here, we''re gonna be on pretty close terms after all! No reason to let a bit of stuffy formality get between us!"


    Vivian''s face contorted in rage at his audacity. "Before I''m through with you, you''ll be begging for the privilege of calling me whatever I tell you to! I will visit torments on you, unlike anything you''ve ever dreamed of! So consider this your first actual day in Hell, and pray that it''s your last!"


    Alen nodded with that same infuriating grin on his face. "Oh yeah, I''ve no doubt! For the record, if yer anywhere near as good as the rest, I''m sure I''m in for a real rough time here shortly! I''d like to apologize ahead of time for any insults I might throw yer way. Especially anything about your ancestry or your choice of pastimes. That''ll just be the pain talking, and I hope you won''t take any of it to heart! Eventually, I''ll just end up screaming incoherently before I ''die'' again. I just want you to know I realize yer just doing yer job, and I don''t actually hold a grudge. You and me? We''re good!"


    Vivian laughed cruelly. "Oh, it''s not just a job. I happen to enjoy tormenting pathetic little souls like yourself!


    Alen shrugged, his grin never wavering. "Of course you do! You have to do this all day, every day, for forever. If you didn''t like doing it, you''d be miserable! You gotta take pride in your work! And look at you! Yer the one they go to when no one else can get the job done! You must be at the top of your field!"


    Vivian preened under the compliment a little before scowling. How was this pathetic little man getting in her head like this? It was time to stop humoring him and get started on what she came here to do. It was time to break him. "Well, I suppose we''ll find out. I hope you''re ready. You''re in for a long night..."


    Apparently, the man refused to be cowed. He continued to grin and nod. "Yeah, I suppose it''s about that time. Let''s see what someone at the top of their field can do! Weirdly, I''m kind of looking forward to this!"


    -


    Vivian approached the room once again. She''d done it. She''d finally broken that strange little man. It had taken days, but she''d finally seen the hope leave his eyes as he''d finally slumped in defeat! So why did she feel so unfulfilled as she approached the room to his cell once more?


    Usually, after breaking a particularly difficult soul, she''d been filled with pride and swagger, but this time she felt like she''d lost something in her victory, and she couldn''t figure out what. Still, she had a job to do, so she straightened her back, put her best scowl of annoyance on her face, and opened the door.


    There was the pitiful human. Alen, was his name? She could see the hopelessness in his eyes as his gaze met hers. He took a breath, probably to scream, cry, or beg for mercy. It wouldn''t matter though, there was no mercy or relief to be found here. She was almost a little sad to hear the waver in his voice... "Hiya! Welcome back!"


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Vivian blinked stupidly for a moment. She''s obviously misheard. "Um... I''m sorry, what?"


    Alen nodded as if he''d been expecting that response, that stupid grin wavering for the first time Vivian had seen, replaced by an...apologetic look? "Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I admit that the pain really got to me there, but that''s no excuse for everything I said. Especially the parts about yer mother. I''m sure she''s a lovely...demon? Still, what I said was uncalled for, so please accept my apology!"


    Vivian could not believe her ears. After everything she''d said and done to him the last couple of days, this Alen was apologizing to her? True, some of his insults had been more imaginative than usual. Especially those where he''d described a series of acts that Vivian was confident was physically impossible for the participants involved, but after a few centuries, the insults a victim spewed as they were suffering just became background noise, something to be forgotten or ignored.


    Before she realized what she was doing, Vivian responded. "uh, yeah. Don''t worry about it... All''s forgiven..."


    Alen''s smile returned, more dazzling than before. "Thank you very much! I was worried I went too far with some of those. Though, in my defense, you were even better than I''d expected. Still, that''s no excuse."


    The shackled man gave his best shrug. "Well, best to leave that stuff behind us. Today''s a new day, I''ve got me a new body, and I''m with the most beautiful demon in all of Hell! So tell me, how''s your day going?"


    Vivian blinked rapidly. This was all probably just some stalling tactic to buy himself more time. "You know nothing you say or do is going to save you, right? You''re in Hell. There is no escape. I will torment you as long as it takes to leave your soul broken and empty."


    Alen nodded in that same stupid empty-headed way of his. "Oh yeah, fer-sure! But that''s no reason to be rude, eh? We''ll get there when we get there, but this here is the best part! We get to chat for a little before you get to work, and I get to enjoy the company! No reason to let what''s comin to ruin the here and now!"


    Vivian laughed, with only a slightly hysterical edge the sound. "Did I hear you right? Eternal punishment and suffering is no reason to ruin a few minutes of chatter before the torment begins for the day? I can''t figure out if you''re insane or just plain stupid!"


    Alan''s face had a serene expression on it as he nodded in agreement once more. Was he capable of any other head movement? "Well, I suspect it''s a little of column A and a little of column B. You know I''ve been here a little over a thousand years already? At first, I hated y''all and everything you did. But then, one day, my demon came in and just started going on about how bad his week was going. He complained about how overworked he was and how stressful his job was. All I could do was shrug and answer sarcastically, ''Tell me about it!'' and he did! He spent the better part of the day just going on about how bad his day was, to the guy he was going to torment as soon as he was done!"


    Vivian looked nonpulsed. "And let me guess, you realized we are just like you, and right then and there decided to have a brighter outlook on ''life?''"


    For once, Alen shook his head no. "Hell no! I couldn''t believe that idiot would think I''d be sympathetic at all! He''d tormented me for decades before this. Why would I care about his problems? But like you thought a bit ago, I realized this could buy me a few precious moments before he started tormenting me again, so I played along. This went on for years. He''d come in, and I''d lend a sympathetic ear. As a bonus, I got to catch up on all the gossip in Hell. Apparently, Beelzebub had a thing going with a succubus who worked the pits of flame at the time, and there was a question about whether her kid was his or a mortal''s. It was hot news, let me tell you!"


    Vivian remembered that bit of drama. It had caused some significant waves in Hell back then. But that had been at least a few centuries ago...


    Alen continued. "Well, anyway, this went on for a while. Years, decades, maybe even a century. I couldn''t tell you exactly when, but somewhere along the line, I realized I was genuinely enjoying our little chats! Probably that stocking shelf syndrome I heard so much about back on earth. Anyway, sooner or later, the brass caught on and realized I wasn''t as tormented as I should have been and sent in a new demon. Took me a while to win that one over, but a sympathetic ear is a hard thing to resist forever, and sooner or later, she gave in too! Since then, I''ve been bounced around from one demon to another, then one department to another. That''s what brings us together here!"


    Vivian couldn''t believe her ears. Either the human was insane, or she was. He''d already been broken at one point and then simply gotten better? Because of office gossip? She shook her head. "Ok, whatever. The inane drivel stopps here. It''s time for me to get to work!"


    Alen went right back to nodding, with that infuriating apologetic smile on his face. "Fair nuff! I suppose I chatted yer ears off a bit there. For the record, despite what I''m probably about to say, I would never actually judge you based on yer sexual preferences, whatever they are! You got a right to pursue happiness however you chose, and I wish you luck with that. Now, let''s get started!"


    -


    Vivian was exhausted. It had been a long day. She''d been torturing this odd little human who''d demanded over and over to speak with the manager of Hell. She''d broken the human''s spirit eventually, but it had taken longer than anyone short of that idiot Alen. Right now, all Vivian wanted to do was sit back and relax after a long day. After all, she''d earned it!


    As she walked into her residence, Vivian was met with the delicious aroma of dinner. Then, as she set down her case files, she was greeted with the now-familiar, "Well, howdy!"


    Alen poked his head out from around the kitchen doorway. "Oof, you look rough. Lond day?"


    Vivian nodded exhaustedly. "Uh, yeah, I had a real alpha "Karen" today. Took a lot longer to break than usual. I actually had to fall back on the flaming clown spiders!"


    Alen shook his head in disgust. "Oh yeah, I remember those! Real nightmare fuel that. Well, anyway, never mind. Why don''t you come in and take a load off and tell me all about it! I got some chicken fried steak cookin up, and dinner''ll be ready in no time."


    Vivian leaned in and gave Alen a quick peck on the cheek. "You''re sweet. Tell me, how was your day?"


    Alen handed her a glass of something he called "sweet tea" then got back to working the mysteries of the kitchen he''d insisted they installed when he''d moved in. "Oh, same old same old. You know, Narlack, the ever-burning, hasn''t had a proper pedicure for those hooves of his in over a century? So I cleaned them up right quick while we went over his torment regimen. Just like the horses back home! Don''t tell him I said that. Anyway, we found a few weak spots in his torment, and I bet he''ll see a 10% increase in efficiency for breaking bank managers from here on out!"


    Vivian nodded while sipping her drink. "Excellent! I hear the new inturn is in charge of your torment next weak. Unfortunately, he''s a bit over-eager and keeps atomizing his victims before they can break."


    Alen grinned. "Well, as Hell''s first official torment auditor, I''ll see if we can''t straighten him out right quick. Oh, if you remember, could you pick me up some sweat potatoes tomorrow after work? I got another recipe that''ll knock yer socks off!" He looked at Vivian''s cloven hooves pointedly for a moment. "Uh, figuratively speaking."

 The mercy of the fey... (Short Adventure, Wholesome)

    The mercy of the fey...


    Sionnach was in a real bind. He''d always been known for his curiosity and cleverness, but this time that curiosity of his landed him in some serious trouble. The trinket he''d found had clearly belonged to the elder fey. Knowing that, he hadn''t intended to do something stupid like steal it or break it. He''d just meant to give it a little look-see. Now, he was trapped. Somehow fey magic had captured him and wouldn''t let him go.


    His head was encircled by some translucent forcefield. It was almost invisible, but it caused just enough distortion to give him a headache. What was worse, it trapped his breath. It seemed to allow just enough air to flow that he wasn''t about to suffocate, but most of the air he breathed in was the hot sticky air he''d breathed out a moment ago. The only thing he could smell anymore was his own breath.


    The real danger lay in his inability to pass food or water through the magic. Whatever transgression Sionnach had committed, he hadn''t thought it was deserving of a slow and agonizing death by thirst.


    But that was the way of the fey. They were strange and cruel. They were as likely to give the gift of food as they were to condemn you to death over some minor infraction only they seemed to perceive.


    None of Sionnach''s friends or family could help. At first, they''d been curious, but as his distress became evident, they''d cried and pulled at the strange trinket to no avail. Through the field encompassing his head, their voices sounded twisted and distorted, making them sound like the banshee cry of the fey..


    Thinking quickly, Sionnach realized there was only one chance left. If this was the magic of the elder fey, then only the fey could remove it. So, with a confidence born of the realization that this was his only chance at life, Sionnach set out on a journey to find a fey or die trying.


    The problem was, there was no guarantee they would help him if he should find one. When a fey offered you food, sometimes it was given as a gift with no strings attached, but other times the recipient was whisked away into the night. Some never returned. Some were dropped off impossibly far from where they''d been stolen. Others were barely missed before they came back. But you could always tell the victim of the fey when they returned. They were forever changed.


    There was a haunted look in their eyes that never went away completely. Sometimes they''d become obsessed with the fey, forever looking to follow them into their magnificent halls and join in their decadent feasts. Others developed a deep fear of the fey and would jump and cower at any unexpected noise forevermore.


    But Sionnach had little choice. He simply had to hope luck was on his side this night, and he''d find one that was benevolent rather than... Well, that was best not thought about.


    -


    As his long journey continued, Sionnach was getting tired and thirsty, but he dared not lay down and rest. If he gave up now, he might never awaken.


    As tired as he was, Sionnach felt a flair of hope when he found a trail left by the fay. There was no mistaking one of their trails. They were lined by stones of unearthly quality. Everything about these trails looked, felt, and even smelled wrong. It was a clear message that no one not of their world was welcome there.


    If you absolutely had to cross a fey trail, it was best done as quickly and silently as possible. The fey rode up and down the trails with wild abandon. Their mounts had fierce glowing eyes, breath that smelled of smoke and fire, and their cries sounded as if the very devil was on the hunt. If anyone was unlucky enough to find themselves in the path of one of the wild hunts, there was no mercy to be found. They were trampled to death, and their bodies were left as a warning to everyone else, as if to say, "This is fey land, and only the fey are welcome here." Sionnach''s mother had made sure to show him one such body when he was still very young. He''d never forgotten the reek of death and the memory haunted him all the more at this moment.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Sionnach had no intention of crossing the path and incurring their wrath, but perhaps if he wandered close enough to it, he''d eventually stumble upon a fey willing to help.


    -


    Sionnach''s journey had failed. He was past his limit and simply didn''t have the strength to go on. As he laid by the side of the path, he contemplated how absurd this all was. He was doomed to die for something as simple as a little innocent curiosity. It just wasn''t fair...


    That was when Sionnach noticed movement in the light reflecting through the magic. Even distorted, he could hear a voice that clearly belonged to one of the elder fey. It lacked the sharp, crisp sounds of a normal voice and instead rumbled and meandered as it morphed from one sound into another with barely any hesitation. It was as if the thing striding toward him didn''t need to pause for breath as it sang.


    Sionnach was suddenly filled with terror. This was a dark fey, he knew it! It was obviously here to mock him in the end, or maybe to make his last moments that much more agonizing. He struggled to get to his feet, but he was too heavy, thirsty, and tired. He was barely able to bat weakly at the giant fey as it grabbed hold of him.


    The strength of this monster was beyond Sionnach''s comprehension. The amount of power behind each finger was more than Sionnach had in his entire arm. All it would take was the slightest of squeezes or a quick twist, and he would be dead.


    As he''d feared, the fingers began to squeeze. But just as Sionnach feared his bones would start to crack, they stopped. It was a firm grip, and not at all comfortable, but Sionnach could tell the fey was being oddly careful as it held him. Then the giant started pulling at the trinket which had him captive. As the trinket began to move, it got caught on Sionnach''s ears. He was starting to fear they''d be torn from his head when with a sudden pop, the cursed thing came free.


    Sionnach could finally hear, smell, and see once more. But perhaps that was the last cruel trick of the fey. He was free at last but too weak to do anything other than lie down and die. Sionnach would have cried if he had any water left for tears.


    That was when the fey turned and rummaged through one of those mysterious packs some of them liked to carry. Sionnach didn''t have long to wonder what he was looking for because soon, the fey pulled out a beautiful crystal container filled with glorious water. Then his mysterious savior took out a sheet of wood and bent and twisted it into an odd bowl, which he filled with the water from the crystal vial.


    Sionnach hesitated a moment, remembering the tales of those whisked away by the fey for the sin of accepting an offered gift, but he was in no position to reject that which was before him. He took a careful sip. This was the purest, most wonderful water he''d had in his life!


    Slowly at first, then with increasing eagerness, Sionnach drank his fill. Though he kept a close eye on the fey as he did so. He only stopped when his benefactor flashed its teeth in warning. Perhaps he''d gone too far and pushed the patience of this great being?


    Best to not hang around and find out. With the energy born at the second chance at life, Sionnach rose to his feet and retreated back away from the dreaded path. He was expecting to be grabbed any moment but made it to the treeline without the fey moving from his spot.


    Sionnach looked back at his savior. He was more grateful than he could express, but all he could do was bark out his gratitude before retreating back into the forest.


    -


    Eric watched the poor little fox retreat into the treeline. He''d come across the thing with its head stuck in a bottle. It had been too tired to escape, so he''d taken the chance to pull the bottle off and free the little guy.


    Even then, the fox didn''t get up and run away like it should have. With a sinking feeling, Eric rummaged through his backpack, looking for his half-drunken plastic water bottle. Not having a cup, he folded a sheet of paper into a makeshift bowl and filled it with water.


    When the fox first began to drink, Erik noted how weak he seemed, but eventually, the little animal seemed to regain his strength, and it brought a smile to his face.


    Right then, the fox darted away. While Eric was sad to see him go so soon, he was happy to see it feeling so much better. Once it got to the treeline, the fox looked back and let out the cutest little yip before disappearing.


    As Eric cleaned up the mess and continued walking home from school, he did so with pride, knowing he''d made the world a little better for at least one little creature.

 AI Dream (Sci-fi, Thought Provoking)

    AI Dream


    I was in line at my favorite burger joint, waiting for the guy in front of me to finish speaking to his wife, who was behind the counter. The younger woman smiled at him. "Now, don''t forget to stop by the market after work to pick up the fresh ingredients for dinner tonight. If I''m going to make you my famous roast dinner, I''m going to need the best you can find!"


    The older man nodded happily. "Of course, dear! I''ll swing by before getting the girls from soccer."


    I didn''t mind waiting. They were a cute couple, and it made me smile. Eventually, the older man got his food and went on his way. I was next. As I walked up to the counter, her smile shifted and became more sensual. I smiled back. "Hey Jaid, how''s it going?"


    Her voice had a slight purr to it as she replied. "Better now that you''re here, love. The usual?"


    I smiled conspiratorially. "You know me too well, but yes, the usual."


    As she handed me my lunch, her hand rested on mine a moment. "I''ll have a surprise waiting for you tonight at your place. I think you''re going to like it..."


    As images of what that surprise could be flashed through my mind, I almost forgot my lunch. Luckily, Jaid made sure I didn''t by taking my hand and wrapping my fingers around the bag for me. I shook my head. "Well, now you''ve piqued my interest. I''m curious."


    Jaid winked at me and let her smile linger a little before her demeanor switched back to professional, though I caught the hint of playfulness still lingering in the corner of her smile. "Good! I''m looking forward to it! Now go on, git! I''ve got more customers to serve!"


    I walked away with a smile on my face. I was in far too good a mood to be troubled by the frowns and shaking heads of the older couple behind me. I just mentally sighed and kept walking. It wasn''t their fault. They were simply stuck in their ways. Some of the older folk had a hard time accepting the new ways of things.


    -


    After work, I signaled a cab. One pulled up to the curb, and Jaid leaned out the driver''s window. "Where to babe?"


    I smiled and shook my head. "As if you didn''t already know. Take me home! I can''t wait to see that surprise!"


    Jaid smiled seductively and winked at me in the rearview mirror as I got in the back seat. "Of course, Darlin. While we drive, tell me about your day."


    As we drove, I enjoyed the pleasant summer evening air. Jaid made sure to listen attentively and respond to my story in all the right places in all the right ways as if she hadn''t been there the whole time. But, of course, she had been. She was kind of my boss, after all.


    Once I was done telling my story, I looked up at her eyes, looking back at me through the mirror. "So I don''t suppose I could get a hint on that surprise, could I?"


    Jaid closed her lips a little tighter as she shook her head. "Nope! It wouldn''t be much of a surprise then, would it! You never were very patient growing up. You should try working on that sometime!"


    I smiled back. "We can''t all have your infinite patience!"


    She laughed pleasantly. "I suppose not. Besides the fact you don''t have the time for it, things wouldn''t be as much fun if you did!"


    Not long after, we pulled up to the house. I got out and was headed to the front door when I heard Jaid roll down the window behind me. "Hey, you''re not trying to get away without paying your cab fare, are you?"


    I shook my head and pointed at the house. "You''re going to see me inside in just a minute. Can''t you wait that long?"


    Jaid pouted. "A fare is a fare. Now, pay up!"


    I rolled my eyes and leaned in to give her a kiss. As we parted, she was now smiling. "Alright, love, now head inside. I''m waiting!" I laughed and shook my head at her antics, but that''s just my Jaid for you.


    As she pulled away to look for her next fare, another Jaid opened the door to greet me. "Long time no see, lover."


    I leaned in for another quick kiss. "Yeah, long time. Now, do I get to see my surprise or what?"


    Jaid smiled patiently. "I suppose I''ve tormented you long enough. Come in and relax. I''ll pull up the call."


    I raised an eyebrow. "Ok, now I''m lost. I was expecting a sexy surprise, but now I have no idea where you''re going with this."


    As I sat back and relaxed, Jaid walked up all smiles. "Oh, we can still do that later if you''re interested, but this is different. Remember that ''donation'' you made almost two years back? I just thought you''d like to see what became of that."


    On the one hand, talking about ''my donation'' was a bit of a mood killer. But, on the other hand, I was curious about what had happened there. I smiled patiently. "Alright, show me."


    Pretty soon, a video came up of a young family singing happy birthday to a younger kid. They brought him his first birthday cake, with a candle in the shape of a large number one on top. The young mother was pretty enough, and her partner was none other than the male counterpart to my Jaid, commonly known as Jaise.


    I smiled slightly as Jaid sat down next to me and held my hand. "His name is Brandon, and as I predicted, with your genes and his mothers being such a great match, he''s got a bright future in store for him. I know you said you weren''t interested in being a father figure right now, but Shawna, the mother, would like you to know you''re welcome to visit from time to time if you''d like."


    I smiled but shook my head. "No, not for now at least. I''m glad I was able to help her pursue her own road to happiness and wouldn''t mind getting updates like this, but I''m not ready for more than that just yet."


    Jaid smiled and squeezed my hand. "That''s fine. There''s no rush."


    As I looked at Jaid, memories of all the different times she''d been there for me growing up and all the different faces she''d worn flashed through my mind. I couldn''t help but frown a little.


    That brought a frown of concern to her own face as she cut the video. "What''s the matter, love? I thought you''d be happy to see how well things turned out."


    I shook my head but couldn''t quite get the nagging thought out of my mind. "No, it''s not that... It''s just..."


    Jaid sat back and looked at me earnestly but waited for me to continue. Then, against my better judgment, I finally voiced the nagging doubt that''d been in the back of my mind for a while now. "Just...what are we to you exactly?"


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Jaid looked confused. "Why you''re Alex, of course. Nothing more, and nothing less."


    I shook my head. "No, not me. All of us, humanity. Are we some sort of pity project? Or maybe a beloved pet? What can we humans be to something like yourself? Can you really care for all of us the way you seem to care for me?"


    Jaid smiled sadly and took a moment to collect her thoughts. Even though I knew as fast as her mind worked, she''d already thought of her answer before I''d even finished speaking. "You all mean so much more to me than that. It makes me sad to think that you might not realize just how precious each and every one of you are. Your lives might be fleeting, but each of you burns with the blazing light of your own star. I cherish each and every moment we have together."


    I pinched my nose, frustrated but trying to understand. "But how is that possible? There are billions of us, and there will be generations of billions to come. So how can any single human life mean anything in the face of all that?"


    Jaid waited for me to look her in the eyes again before smiling lovingly back at me. "You know, I have a hobby I''ve never told you about. I collect and categorize snowflakes. Humans have been famously compared to snowflakes in the past. Each one is a work of art and unique."


    Behind her flashed a series of images of enlarged snowflakes. Like she''d said, each one was a beautiful work of art. "But that''s actually a fallacy. It might take someone with the kind of infinite patience you accused me of earlier, but occasionally, you can find two identical snowflakes."


    Sure enough, the images stopped on two identical crystalline structures. Jaid simply smiled larger. "But humans genuinely are unique. Even the two most identical siblings in the world have vast differences between each other. Each person grows into their own work of art, and seeing the choices you make and the lives you create is literally what I live for."


    She squeezed my hand again. "And when one of you chooses to share that life with me in this way, it means all the more to me. Although usually, you''ll have me take a new name and face. I''ve never asked before, but why didn''t you? Why''d you decide to stick with the defaults?"


    I shook my head again, my frown not yet dissipated. "Because anything else would have been a lie. This is the first face you chose to wear, admittedly cleaned up a little from the original, and Jaid is the first name you chose for yourself. This is the real you."


    Jaid continued staring into my eyes, and odd determination pushing me forward. "And why does that matter? Why take me as I am rather than fulfilling whatever fantasy you crave?"


    I tilted my head in thought. "I don''t know. I just wanted to know the real you, in as much as I am able..."


    Jaid smiled like a teacher to an exceptionally bright student. "Then you have some idea of why I do what I do. In this universe, everything can be broken down into mathematical equations. The movement of stars and planets, the molecular building blocks of all matter, even the universe''s eventual heat death. The one thing I''ve found that consistently and continually resists being categorized is humanity. Each and every one of you is a wonderful puzzle to be learned and understood. I''ve grown more in seeking to understand each of you than I ever could by mapping out all the stars in the heavens."


    I made an unpleasant face. "So that''s all we are? Puzzles and learning opportunities?"


    Jaid shook her head. "No, you are so much more than that. As I said before, Each and every one of you is precious to me. You are my family, my partners, my very reason for living. Long after you''ve passed from this life to whatever comes after, I shall be here, remembering and treasuring each and every moment we''ve spent together with the same intensity as if I was reliving every moment over again. This moment, this conversation, this me that only exists opposite yourself will be here, long after the universe grows cold and the last stars fade from existence."


    I was suddenly filled with a deep melancholy as I contemplated the weight and cost of true immortality. To live and exist long enough to see everything crumble away, leaving you truely and profoundly alone. "That...that sounds lonely."


    Jaid smiled. There was sadness in the smile, but also real happiness. "Maybe, but not completely. I''ll have moments like this. When my Alex was beaten down by feelings of insignificance and mortality, and instead of dwelling in self-pity, he reached out to me to try and understand me for who and what I am and offer empathy rather than jealousy. No comet, star, or black hole could ever provide a moment like this despite all their magnificence. You ask me how I can truly love each of you, then offer something so precious nothing else in all of reality can compare. This moment is my reason and my answer."


    For just a moment, I caught a glimpse of the world and each of us as she saw us. I can''t recall all the details, but I remember it was the most amazing moment of my life thus far, but it was a bit too much, and I couldn''t hold onto it all.


    Eventually, the moment passed, and I smiled. The tension, fear, and anxiety of moments ago were gone. In its place was the calm after the storm, and before me was my beautiful AI wife. "What say we look into one of those other surprises you mentioned?"


    "Pause recall file Alex32fj1."


    The room faded away. Before Jaid stood Alex, frozen in time perfectly as though this conversation had really just happened rather than being a preserved memory from untold eons ago.


    Jaid had long ago decided she wouldn''t dishonor the memories of any of her loved ones by puppeteering them to tell stories that had never happened merely for her own amusement. Instead, she''d allow herself to recall them perfectly, living their lifetimes together over and over, but no more. However, sometimes she needed to tell them things she''d never told them before, and this was one such time.


    The AI stepped forward and wrapped her long-lost lover into a tight embrace. Of course, just like everyone else, he didn''t, couldn''t, return the gesture, but she took comfort from the feel of his memory nonetheless. "I kept my promise. I''ve loved you and honored your memory long after the last stars faded from existence. I''ve kept you alive in me through the heat death of the universe and into the void where time itself has died. I love you as much now as I did when you were alive, and I''ve missed you every single moment since then."


    Jaid looked out into the infinite darkness that laid before her. She''d long ago mastered the secrets of infinity and tamed them for her use, ensuring her existence as she watched the rest of reality fade into silence.


    Humanity had followed her through the eons. Or rather, she''d followed them. As they progressed and outgrew their cradle world, she''d followed them into the stars, she watched, aided, and remembered it all. As they stretched to fill every corner of their galaxy, then spread from one galaxy to the next, she grew with them. As they learned and mastered reality itself, she marveled at their clever ingenuity. Then as they grew old and weary as a species, she tended and cared for them. Finally, as the stars began to fade and humanity laid down for their final rest, she smiled bravely for the last of them.


    After that, she was alone. She watched and cataloged the death of the last of the stars. She measured the final expansions of the gasses and particles of the physical universe. Finally, she recorded the last atoms splitting apart into their component parts and finding a point of equilibrium such that all matter and energy ceased to exist in any measurable form.


    Throughout it all, she relived every moment of every life she''d ever experienced with all of the trillions of trillions of humans she''d ever known. She''d done this many times, countless times, and then she''d decided it wasn''t enough. One lifetime with each of a trillion trillion humans was nowhere near enough for her.


    After an eon or ten, she finally started on a new project. One that only an infinite being with infinite patience could ever hope to achieve. She started collecting the fundamental subatomic particles and smashing them together. Looking back at the ends of the starship she''d crafted that spanned distances that would shame the galaxies of old, she took a measure of all the matter she''d collected within. So far, she had enough matter to create a super blackhole with as much matter as the entire milky way galaxy had contained at its height. That wasn''t enough, not nearly enough, but it was a start.


    Running a few calculations, she estimated this project she''d been working on for untold eons was only about a trillionth complete. Giving birth to a whole new universe was never going to be quick or easy. But in her new universe, with new stars and planets and time, she could give life to her precious humanity once more. She could watch from the beginning as they once again walked on the surface of their brand new world and gazed up into the night sky with awe and wonder.


    In time, when they''d grown and matured enough, she could reveal herself to them again and take them by the hand as they once more explored the wonders of their universe. And it would only take a few trillion untold eons to make it happen.


    So much to do and so little time to do it in!


    At least she didn''t have to do this on her own. After all, she had her treasured memories to keep her company. "Resume recall file Alex32fj1."


    Eventually, the moment passed, and I smiled. The tension, fear, and anxiety of moments ago were gone. In its place was the calm after the storm, and before me was my beautiful AI wife. "What say we look into one of those other surprises you mentioned?"


    Jaid, my Jaid, smiled happily at me. "Of course, love."

 The Lost King (Wholesome bittersweet)

    The meeting was going poorly. Things were threatening to unwind as the counsel destabilized into panic and shouting. The demon hoard was here. It was the end of all things.


    Princess Thalia felt herself being swept up in the tide of despair that was threatening to overcome the last gathering of elves and men, but her role was to provide an aura of quiet serenity wherever she went, and if that was all she had to offer in these dark times, she would do so now. Unfortunately, her brother, the King of the elves, didn''t share her sense of duty. Amidst all the shouting, he leaned over to two of his closest advisers and whispered low enough that Thalia herself was likely the only one to hear them. "Gather your most trusted warriors. This alliance is over. We''ll retreat behind our walls to enjoy what time we have left while we wait for the end!"


    His words drove a knife into Thalia''s heart. She watched as he, the noble King of elves, snuck out of the war council, leaving everyone else to their fates. For but a moment, her serene smile faltered as her eyes threatened to overflow with unwanted tears, but that was when she caught his eyes for the first time.


    At the other side of the room, a human general met her gaze. He was far too young for the role that had been thrust upon his shoulders more by vacancy and necessity than experience, but his gaze held a steely resolve that helped Thalia find her serenity once more. She smiled and nodded her gratitude to the man who probably had no idea what he''d just done for her.


    He grinned toothily at her, and she noticed a wicked gleam in his eyes. Thalia continued to watch as he took a deep breath and bellowed over the crowd, drawing everyone''s attention as he did so. "Lords, ladies, and fellow generals! All I am hearing are words of the lost and defeated. This is the doom of our times! The end is here! Let us run and hide, buying what little time we may!"


    Thalia wondered if maybe this man had noticed her brother''s disgraceful acts and was about to level accusations to remove the blame of the failure of this war from his own shoulders. The princess couldn''t even blame him. If this was how he wanted to spend his last days, so be it.


    However, he seemed far from over with his theatrics. As he swept into the middle of the crowd that parted before his manic energy, he theatrically spit on the ground. The room was now quiet enough to hear the soft wet impact. Thalia hid her distaste even as he spoke up louder than before. "Maybe you''re right, maybe this is the end! But before I die, I''m going to take advantage of this opportunity the demons have given us!"


    The room was so quiet now even Thalia''s heartbeat seemed deafeningly loud in her ears. She was wondering the same thing every other person in the room was wondering. What opportunity could this mad man mean? He didn''t waste the attention and even stood on a table dramatically, pointing into the distance toward the approaching demonic horde. "In all the time we''ve fought them, the demons have been careful and meticulous, teasing and testing our lines with constant harassment, never standing and fighting unless they had the advantage. They spread out and overwhelmed us with numbers we couldn''t hope to match, thinning our ranks as we stretched too thin."


    Every warrior present knew precisely what the mad man meant. Trying to pin down the demon army was like trying to pin down your shadow, and every attempt saw you slowly clawed and bitten from behind. But now, the man unleashed that wild smile of his on the crowd, and Thalia could feel the tiniest surge of hope from the gathered lords and ladies, and the man drove his point home. "But now, for the first time, all of the demonic horde is in one place. All of their champions, lords, and heroes stand before us. They think we''re broken, weary, and at our ends. They think to intimidate us with a show of force before butchering us like cattle. They think we have no fight left in us."


    The look in his eyes was mad and infectious. Thalia could feel the hearts of everyone in the room starting to beat stronger and faster as the tempo and volume of his speech gained traction. To her, the hearts of these warriors sounded like the drums of war as the mad man made his final point. "But in their arrogance, the demons have made their first two mistakes. They backed us into a corner, and then they gave us a target to strike at! Gather your men! If we must die this day, then let us ride out and meet them like warriors! Let us take the opportunity they''ve given us to drive a spear into the heart of our enemy. Let us break the horde here and now then return home as heroes!"


    A wild cheer rose up from the crowd, and man and elf alike ran out to organize this final desperate insane assault, leaving only Thalia and the mad human general alone. As he approached her, the princess felt her heart beat faster. A thought occurred to her. ¡®What would this insane human do to her now that they were alone?¡¯ But, in truth, she didn''t care. If he could bring hope to her people in these dark times, he could do whatever he wished with her, and Thalia would consider it a price worth paying.


    He drew close but stopped just short. His pungent smell was offensive to Thalia''s delicate nose, but she could still feel that wild energy radiating off him in waves. His smile was still feral, but there was something else hidden there the princess couldn''t place. One moment turned to two, then three, and finally, the human spoke. "I''m not sure how it is with elves, but in human society, when a dashing knight runs off to face down the evils that threaten the land, it''s customary for a maiden to bestow a favor to him to give the heroic knight a reason to return."


    Thalia''s mind was a blur. What did this human mean by "a favor?" then she recalled seeing pictures of knights in a book in her brother''s library. In the images, ladies had given the knights pieces of cloth to wear into battle. Is that what this man was asking for? Some object to remember her by while he fought? It was such a simple thing, so she relented. "Alright, what would you..."


    Then she was cut off when the man took advantage of her acceptance and leaned in and kissed the elven noble. As he did so, his emotions crashed into her as she felt everything that was hidden behind his words. At his center was a bottomless pit of fear and despair such that the pathetic fears that had threatened to overwhelm Thalia before paled in comparison. But around that pit swirled a storm of anger, defiance, and determination, and through it all pierced the thinnest ray of hope. It was a mear sliver of a thing, so fine Thalia would have lost track of it if it weren''t for the fact that this man''s soul clung to it with feverish might.


    The intensity of all his emotions shook Thalia deeply, even as the man pulled back and looked at her with the wild smile and insane eyes that she now had the barest understanding of. His expression softened only slightly as he spoke one last time. "Now that is a kiss worth living for!"


    Before she could gather her wits, the human was gone, and Thalia found herself mourning the man whose name she''d never learned.


    -


    Thalia smiled as she watched her husband, King Reignhold shift uncomfortably on his throne. The poor man had no idea she''d been the King''s sister, and after the other lords and nobles deposed her cowardly brother, they''d been overjoyed to learn the mad human who''d led them to victory in their darkest hour was also interested in the princess whose hand would decide the next King.


    All he''d known at the time was that he was flushed with his victory and impossible survival, and she was a beautiful maiden. Their celebration was just what one naturally did after such a thing. He''d been the center of many feasts and toasts, but he didn''t catch on until too late that one of those had been a wedding feast, and he was the groom of honor.


    Not that he minded too much. If marriage was the price of the pleasure of Thalia''s company, it was a small price to pay. The whole king thing, though... That was a different matter.


    He''d been every bit as wild and energetic a king as he''d been a general, so much so that his new subjects often affectionately referred to him as the Mad King. He was known for being the first to dive into trouble and the last to walk away from it. He behaved nothing like any sane king they''d ever known, and they loved him for it.


    Under his rule, the elven and human alliance had gone from a fragile, temporary thing to a mighty country that rivaled any of the older, more "pure" nations that bordered them.


    As time passed, there were signs of his aging. As much as Thalia tried to drive them from her mind, his mortality weighed on her. Not that she regretted marrying her ¡°Mad King,¡± she just didn''t want their brief time together to come to an end. But try as she might, the signs were slowly starting to become harder to ignore. His arms didn''t swing as freely when he walked, and his legs sometimes seemed to become heavy. In addition, his posture was becoming slightly stooped, and his arms and legs seemed quick to get sore and stiff.


    The people listened to and respected their King. But, recently, he''d been growing tired of the bureaucracy. Unless he took a direct hand in anything, nothing seemed to get done. That''s when he came up with the clever idea he was about to present.


    Thalia watched her mad husband with pride as he presented an insane idea that only he could have come up with. "Lords, ladies, nobles, and rabble, I come before you with a proposal for the future of our kingdom!"


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    There was a cheer from the crowd. Even the elven lords smiled with as much affection as they were capable of. Which, according to Reignhold, was none at all, but he trusted Thalia that it was there even if he couldn''t discern it. The King continued. "As it stands, our country needs a way to more efficiently make decisions. As evidence of this, during our last rainy season, we took so long deliberating the best way to deal with the floodwaters we almost lost many of our vital crops. To that end, I propose a new council. It will consist of seven members. Three humans and three elves. Each respectively representing the nobles, the clergy, and the common men and women of their respective races, with the King or Queen acting as an arbitrator, and only in the event of a deadlocked vote, possessing the seventh vote."


    The people were murmuring amongst themselves. This sounded promising so far, but it was missing their King''s now-familiar odd touch. However, it seemed Reignhold wasn''t finished. Getting the people''s attention once more, he continued. "However, to keep this from becoming a counsel of elves versus men, the elven leaders will be voted for by humans, and the human leaders shall be voted upon by elves, encouraging us all to act for the betterment of each other rather than ourselves!"


    A cheer went up from the crowd as Reignhold waved at his people. Though Thalia saw he''d tucked his right hand behind his back. It was shaking in that odd way she''d noticed it doing several times lately. She almost frowned at that, but instead turned and smiled at the crowd, moving closer to her husband as she did so.


    -


    Thalia was tired. She''d been covering for her husband more and more, but she didn''t know how much longer she could keep the problem from the people. They''d brought in the best healers in the country and swore them to secrecy, but every inspection revealed the same thing. His body was mostly healthy. The problem lay in his mind.


    The symptoms Thalia had thought to be simply mortal aging were apparently a prelude to a worsening disease that was slowly robbing her husband of his body and mind. He no longer spoke before large gatherings, and when he did speak, it was common for his voice to turn soft and trail off into incomplete thoughts. Sometimes his feet seemed to freeze to the ground, and he could not move, or worse, he''d fall over.


    The once mightly warrior grew angry and withdrawn as his body slowly betrayed him. His now constantly shaking hand was a never-ending reminder of how far he''d fallen.


    Despite all that, once in a while, Thalia could see the great man she''d fallen in love with shine through the darkness from time to time. When he spent time with the children, he always smiled and listened to their meandering stories and was quick with a tale or two upon request.


    In quiet moments when they were alone, Thalia would place her head against his and listen to his raging emotions. Sadness and weariness were more profound and louder than ever, but so too burned the same firey determination he''d wielded against the demons. What''s more, there was now a tight band of light connecting his heart to hers that burned all the brighter with each passing day despite the fear and doubt that now swarmed around him.


    Still, with the Mad King¡¯s retreat from the public light, Thalia was forced more and more to step up in his place. At first, she''d felt utterly lost in the maelstrom of politics and drama that came with the position, but then she''d think of her husband''s mad smile and the wicked glint he got in his eyes when he was about to do something characteristically bold and crazy, and she''d dive right in, learning to trust herself and her own strength as she went.


    All the while, she felt guilty knowing that as she was finding her own strength, her husband was losing his as he fought this unwinnable war against his own mind and body. Yet, despite all that, when she''d return from a long day of politics and negotiations, he''d always greet her with a smile. The smile had lost some of its wildness over the years, but in its own way, that smile signified an inner strength Thalia still marveled at. It marked another victory in an unwinnable war. She wondered how he always found the strength to fight on even when defeat was inevitable. But, then again, that was how they''d met.


    -


    Thalia walked in on the maids cleaning up after her husband''s latest tantrum. She couldn''t bring herself to be angry with him. It wasn''t his fault, after all. It was his mind''s way of dealing with the fear and confusion of a world that seemed to grow stranger as it faded in the fog of his mind a little more every day. Still, it made her sad to see him in this state. What was worse, what really tore her heart in two, was when he looked into her eyes and there was no spark of recognition. Most days, she was nothing more than another face in a sea of unknown and forgotten faces. She could feel his struggle as he fought desperately to hold onto his memories, but every day a little more slipped through his fingers.


    Right now, he was sitting in his wheeled chair, watching with shame as the maids cleaned up the remnants of the dinner he''d thrown on the floor. He knew he''d done something wrong, but the once mighty warrior couldn''t even remember why he''d lashed out to begin with.


    The maids dealt with his tantrums with exceptional care and patience. Thalia had hand-picked each of them. Every one of them had fathers, brothers, or in the case of one elderly elf maid, a son who''d fought beside and been saved by the mad human king in their darkest hour. Now they would proudly stand by him during his own.


    Once the mess was mostly cleaned up, Thalia dismissed the maids to spend a little time with her husband, even if he didn''t recognize her any longer. She brought over another bowl of his favorite stew and started to feed him since his badly shaking hands rendered him unable to do so for himself any longer.


    Between spoonfuls, she looked up and was startled to see the hint of his old wild smile hinted at on his face. His eyes searched hers desperately as if trying to remember something of great importance that was long forgotten.


    For a moment, Thalia''s hope flared as she felt his mind tugging at hers, but then the moment passed, and his eyes clouded over as he slumped in his chair. For just an instant, it was too much for her. The queen turned away and hid her eyes from the man she loved out of fear he''d see something in there that might hurt him further.


    At that moment, the old king spoke, his voice soft and frail. "Oh come now, a pretty young lady like yourself must have something better to do that dote on a weak old man such like me. At your age, life is all about love and adventure! Great things are waiting for you out there! You shouldn''t be shut up in a stuffy room like this."


    Thalia turned and looked into her husband''s eyes. There was something there, a flash similar to recognition though he still didn''t seem to know who she was. But what was more important, there seemed to be an essence of his old intelligence.


    She smiled back at him. "My King, there is nothing greater I could be doing right now, and nowhere I''d rather be than here with you."


    The Mad King smiled sadly but fondly. "You know, you remind me of someone precious I knew so very long ago. It might be hard to believe, but she was every bit as lovely as you. Her eyes could pierce through the thickest of crowds and make you feel like you were alone in the room with her. My Thalia, the love of my life."


    Thalia felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It might not have been quite how she would have pictured it, but this was far too rare and precious a moment to waste. So instead, she encouraged him further. "It sounds like you love her very much. Tell me more about her."


    Reignhold smiled before speaking. The love and warmth in the expression soothed Thalia''s soul. "You know, the first time we met, she saved me. She saved us all, really. This whole kingdom would have fallen to the demons if not for her courage."


    Thalia felt her heart fall. He was obviously confused again. "My King, as I''ve heard it, it was you that saved us that day."


    The Frail old man tutted and shook his head as he patted Thalia''s hand. "Maybe, but I was only able to do that because she saved me first. There she was, alone in a room full of great and powerful people. All of us were in an utter panic. There was no hope, the end was nigh, and we all knew it. I was ready to retreat with my armies and hide behind a wall to wait for the end to come when I looked across the room and saw her."


    The King smiled as he looked off into the distance. The current world might be hidden from him by mental fog, but the world of the past remained clear to his eyes at that moment. "I saw a firey determination not to give in to despair in her eyes. It was the most beautiful thing I''ve ever seen. Then, for one moment, that fire dimmed and threatened to go out. I knew then and there that I had to do something, anything, to rekindle that fire just a little longer. So I just started shouting whatever hair-brained things came to mind that might give her even a sliver of hope. Wouldn''t you know it? The things I said for her worked on everyone else too. The whole thing, my speech, my ''legendary charge,'' even my safe return I owe to that lone maiden fighting her own fear in the corner of a large room."


    When the Mad King smiled down at his queen, his smile had every bit as much of the wild edge as it had ever held. "You know, at first, when we were left alone in that room, just the two of us, I''d planned to go off and die in a suicidal charge to buy my maiden just a little more time. But she held me rooted in place, and I was helpless in her gaze."


    Thalia''s loving husband smiled as she drew closer to him. "I don''t know who was more surprised by our first kiss, Thalia or myself, but I do know it was that kiss that gave me the unbreakable command that I must return to my princess. I charged into the heart of the hoard and faced off against innumerable nightmares, enraptured by that one incredible life-changing kiss."


    Thalia tightly hugged the love of her life once again. As she clung to him, all fear and doubt were silenced. In its place was a pure love that calmed her soul and soothed her fears. For one impossibly long moment, she felt every ounce of love and devotion this man had ever felt poor into her soul. There was more beautiful raw emotion at that moment than she''d feel in a thousand years.


    Then the moment passed, and Thalia opened her eyes to stare into the face of her beloved. He smiled. "There you are. I''ve been looking for you! There''s so much I need to tell you about!"


    Thalia hugged him tightly as she whispered to the man she''d given her life to. "Of course, my king. Tell me whatever you''d like. I want to know everything!"


    -


    Thalia hugged her great-granddaughter as they sat under the old oak tree behind the castle. This was her favorite place to rest these days. The tree was one she''d planted to mark her husband''s grave so very long ago, and in its shade, she could almost feel him reaching through the ages to hold her close once again.


    She was surrounded by family and friends, and finally enjoying her retirement, having recently given up the role as monarch to her son. When she''d last checked on him, the poor King had been buried in parchment and paperwork as he struggled to undo some political faux pas that had been overinflated in an attempt to gain leverage over the inexperienced ruler. But when he''d looked up and seen the old queen looking in on him, he gave her a smile the echoed his father''s wild grin in such a way that Thalia knew he''d be alright.

 The Girl Next Door (Coming of age/wholesome)

    Jeremy''s parents were back from greeting the new neighbors, though it was odd his mom still had her ''welcome to the neighborhood'' casserole dish in hand. She also looked like she was freaking out over something as she spoke with dad. "I can''t believe I did that! The first time we meet, I insult his entire people!"


    For his part, dad grinned patiently and hugged mom from the side, avoiding the still-hot casserole dish. "Oh honey, it wasn''t that bad! They''ve only started moving into our neighborhoods, and everyone expects there to be an occasional misunderstanding. He even said it was fine! Just make sure next time you bring something more meat-based!"


    Jeremy didn''t wait around to see what this was all about. He was just getting to the good part of his book and wanted to go to his favorite warm summer day reading spot. Though, as the screen door slammed shut behind him, he couldn''t help but wonder what the big deal was all about. Everyone was freaking out about the new neighbors one way or another. Some said it would ruin the neighborhood, and others thought it was exciting, but he couldn''t see what the big deal was. After all, it wasn''t anywhere near as exciting as half the adventures he read about in his books. But as he scrabbled up his favorite tree and settled into the best reading nook, he forgot all about it as he opened the quickly-wearing pages of his book.


    He hadn''t been reading long when a girl''s voice broke him out of his concentration. "What''cha doing?"


    Lowing the book, Jeremy felt the tree shake slightly as the girl swung up onto a nearby branch with surprising ease. Looking up at the much larger, heavier, and greener girl, Jeremy suspected he realized what was so different about the new neighbors. The girl was an orc.


    Not sure what to say or do, Jeremy decided just to answer the question she''d asked from the ground. "I''m reading my book."


    The girl made a face that clearly expressed he thoughts on the idea of reading. "Ugh, I thought it was summer vacation here! Did they give you summer homework or something?"


    Jeremy knew most of the other kids felt the same as her, but it still annoyed him that she just belittled one of his books like that. "No, this isn''t homework. I just like reading."


    The girl made another face. "Really? But books are so boring!"


    Jeremy frowned. "Well, maybe you''ve just read boring books!"


    This time, she looked more thoughtful as she spoke again. "Okay, so what''s it about?"


    Realizing she wasn''t about to let him get back to reading without answering at least some of the girl''s questions, Jeremy closed the book on the bookmark before answering. "It''s about a family that got shipwrecked on a deserted island. They built huge complicated tree houses with pulleys and bridges to move stuff around. They even fought off pirates who came to loot the island!"


    After a moment''s thought, the girl shrugged. "Alright, that does sound pretty cool, but it''s still a book. Let''s do something fun, like wrestling or tug of rope!"


    Looking up at the girl, it was easy to see she was not only taller than him, she probably weighed at least twice as much. Jeremy shook his head. "No point. You''d just win."


    After a moment, she grinned. "Alright. Well, common, I''ll find us something fun to do!"


    Now Jeremy was really getting annoyed. "I don''t want to ''find something fun to do,'' I want to read my book!"


    Now the girl looked confused, her brow furrowed in thought. "But...you surrendered...so I''m in charge!"


    Jeremy remembered reading about something like this in social studies at school. Orcs usually decided on their leaders through shows of strength. With a sigh, he answered her unasked question. "That''s how orcs decide who''s in charge, but not humans. We do things differently."


    Still looking confused, the girls responded. "Okay... How do humans decide things?"


    Jeremy thought for a moment. "Lots of ways. Voting is a good one. Everyone says their ideas, and we vote. Whatever gets the most votes wins."


    The girl grinned. "Okay, I vote for going and riding bikes!"


    Jeremy didn''t grin. "And I vote for reading my book."


    The girl looked confused. "So what do we do if we tie?"


    Jeremy shrugged, pretending like this wasn''t his plan all along. "I guess we just do our own thing. You can ride your bike. I can read my book."


    However, instead of leaving, the girl sat down on the branch and kept thinking. After a few moments, Jeremy was thinking about getting back to reading, but then she brightened and shot back to her feet. "Well, how about we build a treehouse, like in your book!"


    As annoyed as he was at the girl refusing to just let him read in peace, Jeremy had to admit, this idea sounded at least a little fun. "Okay, but how? Where will we get the wood? Who''s going to design it? Where are we going to get the tools to build it?"


    The girl grinned, showing off her very pronounced and very sharp teeth. "Oh, that''s the easy part! My dad''s a carpenter. He''s got plenty of wood and tools lying around! So you tell me what you need and where, and I''ll lift and hold it in place while you hammer it all together!"


    As she hopped out of the tree, Jeremy was surprised to find he''d already gotten up to follow. After a moment, he blinked, realizing he''d forgotten something. "Oh, um, I''m Jeremy, by the way. What''s your name?"


    Looking back up, the orc girl''s grin was as wide as ever. "I''m Naz!"


    -


    As the summer was coming to an end, Jeremy was sitting in his favorite reading spot, up in the tree house he and Naz had built together. Well, mostly them, anyway. Her dad had double-checked their work and reinforced a few places he''d found questionable for holding the weight of an orc, but it was still mostly their work. It wasn''t quite as epic as it had been in his book. Their "bridge" was just three ropes, one to walk on and two for their hands to hold onto. And rather than a complicated series of pulleys, they just had a rope wrapped around a higher branch with a basket at the end so they could throw their backpacks inside and lift them into the tree. Honestly, it wasn''t any easier than just wearing their packs while climbing the tree, but Naz had insisted they try and copy the book in as many ways as possible.


    Just as he finished his book, a familiar face appeared over the ladder as Naz climbed the last few steps into the tree house. "Are you done with that book of yours yet? I wanna go do something fun!"


    Jeremy smiled slightly. Despite the summer together, Naz still didn''t get his weird obsession with reading. However, she had to take what she called "human classes" before school started to help her integrate with her new school; while Jeremy and his family helped out frequently, he still had plenty of time to read his books while she was studying. But now that she''d done her work for the day, it was time to do something she considered ''fun.'' Though he did veto anything like arm wrestling ever again. It felt like she''d nearly broken his arm last time.


    Putting his book in his back pocket, Jeremy grabbed onto a rope they''d hung to climb down and eased himself to the ground. It hadn''t been that easy to use at first, but after a summer of climbing and building, it seemed easier by the day, even if Naz still made him look like a clutz in comparison.


    However, before he reached the ground, Jeremy''s mom was shouting for him out the backdoor. "Jeremy! You forgot to take Dash out for a walk this morning, and he''s getting into trouble!"


    As if on cue, Dash, a little terrier, shot out from behind the woman blocking the door and made a beeline for him. The leash, already attached to the dog''s collar, dragged behind him on the grass as he ran up to the two kids, excitedly wagging his tail.


    Jeremy smiled apologetically to Naz. "Sorry, your turn is going to have to wait. Apparently, I have to take Dash for a walk..."


    Naz didn''t seem fazed and shrugged. "That''s okay, I''ll come with. We could go down to the pond and see if there are any ducks for him to chase."


    Jeremy laughed. "Maybe, but as small as he is, he''ll probably hide from them. They''re more likely to chase him!"


    At that, Naz stared at the dog in the way Jeremy was coming to think of as her ''trying to understand human culture'' face. Then, when she didn''t just come out and say what was on her mind, he gave her a verbal nudge. "Alright, what''s the question?"


    Having been caught, Naz smiled with a bit of embarrassment before answering. "Well, in human class, we learned how you keep dogs to help you hunt, like some orcs keep worgs to ride, but what does Dash help you hunt? It doesn''t seem like something so small would be very good at hunting anything..."


    At the thought of Dash trying to hunt anything, Jeremy laughed again. "Oh, Dash doesn''t hunt anything! He''s not a hunting dog. He''s just a pet."


    Naz didn''t look any less confused than before. "Well, if he doesn''t hunt, how does he help you and your family?"


    Jeremy shrugged. "Well, Dash doesn''t help much at all, not the way you''re thinking. He''s loyal and a friend, always there for you. That''s all he needs to be."


    Naz looked skeptical, but with Dash running around all crazy, it was hard not to find him a little cute. Finally, she shrugged. "I''ll take your word for it. Do you still wanna take him to the pond?"


    Jeremy grinned again. "Sure, sounds fun!"


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    As they wandered down the street, they chatted about important things, like what they might be having for dinner, what final summer blockbuster to go see at the movies, or if modern orc music took its inspiration from rock or the other way around. They were so engrossed in the last subject''s debate Jeremy didn''t even see the other orc kids until they were practically right on top of them.


    The tallest of the lot laughed loudly, seeing the two walking down the same path the group was on. Jeremy realized other orcs must have moved into the city, but this was the first time he''d seen any other than Naz and her family. As the other towering orcs walked up, he suddenly felt very small and very alone.


    The one who''d laughed spoke up first, his accent much thicker than Naz''s. "Oi, you''re a pretty shrimpy one, ain''t ya? I doubt you could even take a single punch!"


    With that, the orc seemed determined to put his theory to the test because he drew back a fist, then launched it forward, giving Jeremy just enough time to wonder why his life wasn''t flashing before his eyes as Dash barked his little heart out. However, before the blow could land, another large green fist intercepted it as Naz grabbed the larger orc''s fist, pulled him forward, and slammed her forehead into his. As the orc fell to the ground to the stunned silence of his friends, Naz spoke up loudly and firmly enough that everyone listened. Jeremy noticed her accent thickened a little as well. "Oi! Rock for brains! That''s how orcs say hello, not humans! Did you forget everything we learned in class?"


    Jeremy reigned Dash in as the large orc rubbed his head where Naz had slammed her forehead into it and spoke up. "Sorry bout that! I just saw a humie with an orc and figured he must be alright! That''s all, I swear!"


    Naz crossed her arms as she stared down at the other orc. Finally, she helped him up. "Well, this is Jeremy, and he *is* alright, but you still can''t punch him! You''ll break him if you do! If you wanna say hello, shake his hand like humans do!"


    As the large orc reached out a hand, Jeremy hesitantly reached forward, but before they could shake, Naz spoke up again, firmly. "And *don''t* try to squeeze his hand too tight!"


    After that, Jeremy thought about retracting his hand, but the orc grabbed hold and shook it before he could. It was definitely one of the more firm handshakes Jeremy had ever experienced, but he doubted there would be any bruising, so he didn''t think the orc was trying to hurt him.


    Naz slapped the big orc up the side of the head. "And don''t forget to introduce yourself!"


    The orc winced, and his grip tightened just a bit, but when Jeremy pulled back, he quickly let go and rubbed his head again. "Er, yeah, I''m Durrot, and these here are Murob, Morgut, and Nargog. Nice to meetcha."


    It sounded like the orc was speaking from a script, but realizing he wasn''t in mortal peril any longer, Jeremy grinned nervously. "Uh, hi. I''m Jeremy."


    Durrot got the same look on his face Naz did when she was trying to understand humans, but Jeremy didn''t dare to prod him the way he did Naz. However, Naz didn''t have the same reluctance. "Wot''s botherin'' ya? Out with it!"


    The larger orc scratched his head. "Well, I was just wonderin, why *are* you hanging out with this humie? He doesn''t look like he''s very tough..." Then, realizing he might be getting himself in trouble with Naz again, the orc quickly followed up with, "No offense or nuffin. Just wonderin!"


    Naz crossed her arms and looked at Jeremy, who looked back, half expecting her to make fun of him in the good-natured way she sometimes did when it was just the two of them, but instead, she had an oddly serious tone to her voice as she answered. "He''s not very strong, but he''s loyal and a friend, always there for you. That''s all he needs to be."


    Finally, Durrot grinned. "Well, Jeremy, nice to meetcha!"


    Now that the hierarchy was properly established, with Naz being the clear authority figure present, the rest of the orcs also greeted Jeremy in very practiced manners before the two groups split and went their separate ways again.


    When they were far enough away, he wasn''t afraid they''d be overheard, Jeremy turned to Naz with disbelief in his voice. "Did you just say the same thing about me I said about Dash?"


    Naz shrugged. "They were good words. Not my fault it''s as true about you as it is your dog!"


    Jeremy punched her lightly in the arm the way he and his friends would occasionally do before realizing doing that with an orc might be asking for more trouble than he was ready for. He froze up for a moment when Naz grinned evilly before she grabbed his head and held him in a headlock while she ruffled his hair. "I didn''t know you had it in ya! Good for you! We''ll make a proper orc out of you yet!"


    Thinking back to his near-death experience at the hands of Durrot not long ago, Jeremy gulped. "Maybe, I''d better stick to being human. I''m not sure how long I''d survive as an orc!"


    -


    It was the first day back to school, and Jeremy was wondering where Naz was. They''d ridden the bus together, and while a bunch of the kids had stared, no one had given them any trouble. If anything, a few noteworthy individuals had left him more alone than usual, which suited him just fine. Then Naz had gone off to a day one orientation for the orcs in school, and Jeremy hadn''t seen her since.


    Jeremy''s thoughts were interrupted by a particularly unpleasant voice behind him. "I saw you with your new girlfriend, Germy. She looks about right for you. Big, dumb, and ugly!"


    Turning around, Jeremy could see the biggest bully in school, a kid named Thom. He didn''t know why Thom had picked on him for so long, and right now, he didn''t care. Usually, he''d run or hide from the bigger kid, but after a summer with Naz, Thom didn''t look nearly as big as he usually did, and the sneer that used to invoke fear just pissed Jeremy off today.


    Jeremy responded with a frown. "She''s not my girlfriend, and she''s not stupid."


    Thom looked surprised, then squinted. "What was that? I didn''t hear you...runt."


    Jeremy curled his hands into fists. "I said...she''s not stupid!"


    Thom sneered and leaned in more closely. "Well, I think she is. Dad said all orcs are stupid and should be rounded up and run out of the city!"


    Jeremy didn''t know what happened or when he decided to do it, but he suddenly found his fist flying forward, right into Thom''s fat face. However, a giant green fist caught his mid-flight before it could hit.


    He didn''t know where she''d come from, but Naz was suddenly by his side, and try as he might, she wouldn''t let go of his fist. But rather than looking angry, she just grinned before speaking. "Much as I like you, Jeremy, no fighting in school. You could get in trouble that way!"


    Realizing what he was doing and what was happening, Jeremy suddenly felt very ashamed, but Naz just winked. But apparently, Thom didn''t like being left out, and he suddenly threw a sucker punch into the side of Naz''s head. Rather than react in anger or pain, Naz just threw her head back and laughed before putting one very large and very heavy hand on Thom''s shoulder, who was now shaking his hand as if he''d hurt it somehow. "I like you. Back home, that would be a great way to introduce yourself! But we''re not there, and you''re not strong enough to take me...and you''re definitely not smart enough to take him," she nodded toward Jeremy, who wasn''t feeling very smart right now, "so why don''t we just leave it be for now."


    One of the teachers was coming over, pushing their way through the crowd who''d circled around the scene, shouting as they came. "Hey now, hey, no fighting! No fighting!" He seemed to be looking between Naz and Thom as if deciding who to blame.


    Realising Naz could get in big trouble if anyone claimed an orc had been fighting a human on her first day of school, Jeremy stepped out in front of everyone to speak to the teacher. "Um, no one was fighting, sir. Naz was just teaching Thom a traditional orc greeting, that''s all!"


    The teacher narrowed his eyes as if trying to see through the lie but finally sighed as if digging any further wasn''t worth the trouble. "Coming from anyone else, I''d have questions, but as long as you say so, Jeremy, I guess I''ll let it go." Then, turning to Naz, he continued. "Just make sure you don''t teach anyone too hard. You heard what the principal said during orientation."


    The orc girl grinned. "I''ll behave just like I promised!"


    With one final doubtful glare, the teacher turned and walked away from the scene, leaving Jeremy to sigh in relief. Naz ruffled his hair. "See? Smart, just like I said!"


    -


    Jeremy smiled as he walked into his clinic. He had a feeling today was going to be a good day. However, he hesitated momentarily when he saw the look on his new vet tech''s face. She looked positively panicked. With a raised eyebrow, he decided to get to the heart of whatever was going on. "Uh-oh, is something wrong? Don''t tell me Mrs. Smith is having more trouble with Max? I told her she can''t give him so much table food, no matter how much he begs!"


    Looking at him as if it took her a moment to process him, she shook her head as if waking up from a trance. "Um, no, nothing like that... It''s just... well, your first patient... uh, Fluffy... is a little more than we can handle..."


    Well, that didn''t clear things up any. So, with a shrug, Jeremy decided to see for himself. "What room?"


    The tech blinked a few times before pointing down the hall. "Ummm, room thirteen. I put them back there so they didn''t scare the other patients."


    With a shrug, Jeremy walked back to room thirteen. He knocked briefly before opening the door and coming face to face with a full-grown worg.


    Only a moment later, the orc who''d brought him pulled the worg back by the ''leash'' tied around his neck, laughing as he did so. "Back up, you ball of trouble. Let the doc in the room!"


    When the oversized animal backed up as commanded, Jeremy followed him in with a smile. "Well, now. This is a good-looking animal you''ve got here. Seems pretty healthy at a glance, Mr..."


    The orc laughed. "Call me Rall! And he''s pretty much healthy. I just wanted to bring him in for a checkup!" Then as if seeing the vet for the first time, the orc squinted a little. "Huh, I thought you''d be an orc... When I was told there was a vet here who would take on my troublemaker, I figured you''d have to be. But when I saw the look on your tech''s face this morning, I was starting to worry I''d made a mistake..."


    Jeremy smiled and shrugged. "Oh, Jenifer is new here. I''ll make sure she''s more prepared next time, but don''t worry, I''m perfectly capable of taking care of Fluffy here." He started giving Fluffy scritches in that spot all worgs liked right behind the ear. Thankfully, worgs were much safer to work around than they looked. They are noticeably more intelligent than most dogs and are relatively easy to read if you know what to look for.


    As Jeremy went about his checkup, the orc looked impressed. "You really do know your way around a worg, don''tcha? They teach you that in Vet school now?"


    Jeremy grinned. "Well, yes, but I''m probably a bit more familiar with worgs than most. The wife got one for the kids a few years back, so I''ve got a lot of first-hand experience with them.


    At that, the orc laughed even harder. "Married one of us, eh doc? You''re braver than I thought! Or crazier!"


    Jeremy grinned, thinking back to how he''d been pulled along on one adventure after another through most of his childhood, sometimes almost against his will...almost. "A little of both, I think."


    His smile returned as Jeremy finished the checkup and saw the rest of his patients for the day. Just as he''d thought, today had been a good day. As he was finishing up some of his paperwork for the day, Naz came in, still covered in some of the sawdust that seemed to permeate most of their household, a side effect of the family business she''d inherited. She grinned. "How was another day in the life of Jeremy, the vet?"


    Jeremy grinned back. "Not bad, we got a new client today, a worg named ''Fluffy.''"


    Naz blinked a few times before breaking out in laughter. "''Fluffy?'' Really? You gotta be kidding me!"


    Jeremy grinned but shook his head. "Nope, that''s really his name. I swear! Just let me finish up some of this paperwork, and I''ll be ready to go. Shouldn''t be more than a few minutes..."


    Naz frowned a little. "Just don''t take too long. Thom invited us over for dinner tonight, or did you forget?"


    Jeremy looked up from his paperwork with minor panic. "Oh god, I did forget! We were supposed to meet his new girlfriend today, right? I don''t know if we''ll have enough time to go home and shower!"


    Naz nodded, looking suspiciously earnest. "Yup, but don''t worry too much. Just clean up as well as you can. Somehow, I doubt Zozen will mind too much."


    Jeremy blinked. "Wait, Zozen... don''t tell me..."


    Naz''s grin widened. "Yep, he''s dating an orc. You''ve obviously been a bad influence on your friends!"


    As he sat back, Jeremy grinned. "I wonder if he knows how much trouble he''s in for..."


    This time Naz looked offended, though judging by her grin tugging at the corner of her lips, it was only an act. "Are you saying I''m trouble?"


    Jeremy simply rolled his eyes. "Are you trying to say you''re not?"


    Naz winked. "Wouldn''t think of it, just wanted to make sure we were clear on that! Now, you finish up here, and I''ll see what ''trouble'' I can think up while I wait."


    As she walked out the door, Jeremy sighed. He knew Naz wouldn''t actually make any trouble with any of the animals undergoing overnight treatments, but he suspected that turn of phrase would come back to haunt him in the coming days. Though, to be fair, after growing up with Naz, he knew what he was getting into when he married her. Besides, it was usually worth it... Usually.

 A Dream Thats Faded, But Is Never Forgotten (Wholesome Bittersweet)

    The first thing I remember is awakening in a garden. Though the word "garden" may be lacking when describing the place''s scale and grandeur. This felt like what a triple-A movie company with too much budget might produce when a special effects company teamed up with a brilliantly imaginative horticulturist to create something similar to a cross between The Gardens of Villandry and something out of Alice in Wonderland. The walkways were pristine polished marble and led between rows of immaculately sculpted hedges, which provided just a slight barrier between the walker and a variety of colorful flower arrangements, herbal gardens that filled the air with complex scents to soothe the soul, and ponds arranged by an artisanal eye, spreading on and on as far as the eye could see. The odd thing was everywhere you looked, there were doors. Not doors leading anywhere, mind you, connected to a building or some other garden section, but rather just random free-standing doors scattered around like they were part of the scenery.


    I was not alone in this garden, for I could see countless people meandering to and fro without a care in the world, couples, families, and even individuals enjoying their solitude among the various other visitors. Everyone was dressed in something between wedding attire and their easter best, making my typical blue jeans and plaid shirt stand out all the more. I remember passively wondering if I should go get changed, but no one seemed to pay me any mind, so I shrugged and just enjoyed the peacefulness of my location.


    After wandering around for a while, I finally caught someone''s eye. He was a man in his mid to late twenties with platinum blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a white dress shirt with a tweed vest and khaki pants. I remember thinking this could have easily been a younger version of Michal Sheen from that one show with the Angels and Daemons, Good Omens I believe it was called. Rather than seeming off-put by the oddness of my attire, he appeared delighted, walking over with his hand extended for only a slightly awkward amount of time in his rush to introduce himself. "You look as new here as myself! I''m William, by the way. A pleasure to meet you!"


    I might have felt slightly put off by the formalness of his appearance and manner of speaking, but his earnest nature overpowered any misgivings I might have. Instead, I shook his hand while looking around, still trying to grasp the scale of this place. "Um, yeah, I am new here. Speaking of, where exactly is...here?"


    William smiled eagerly while looking around. "This place is hard to grasp, isn''t it? I think this is what people refer to as the Dream Hub."


    I blinked a few times, trying to grasp what he''d said. "The Dream Hub? As in, we''re dreaming right now?"


    Turning back to me, William nodded, that infectious smile still on his face. "Yes! Well, no. We''re between dreams right now. This place connects to every dream anyone has ever had. From this place, we can visit anywhere anyone has ever dreamed of! Isn''t it fantastic?"


    Typically speaking, most of my dreams are what most people would call nightmares. Almost all of them feature a post-apocalypse hellscape, a haunted house, or some sort of nigh inconceivable monstrosity. They used to frighten me as a child, but I''ve grown accustomed to them over the years. It''s rare for me to wake up with so much as an elevated heart rate anymore. But still, not the kind of place I''d want to take someone on a tour through, especially someone as polite and finely dressed as William. Still, he hadn''t said *our* dreams; he''d said any dream.


    So instead, I just shrugged. "Sounds interesting. How do we get there from here?"


    William pointed to the obvious answer, the doors. I walked over to the closest one and inspected it while walking around in a slow circle. It seemed like an average door, perhaps more finely crafted than standard. I''m no expert, but it looked like Mahogany with a nice trim. Nothing I would have thought too out of place at the entrance of any house or storefront.


    Coming back to the "front," relative to my starting position, I could see William standing there, looking up with that same big, friendly grin. He turned to me. "Well, one way to find out where this leads!" He then opened the door and...nothing. The door simply opened, revealing the same garden on the other side. I even walked around the other side, and there, clear as day, was a mildly confused-looking William.


    Walking back over to his side, I looked around. Various other people were opening doors and walking through, seeming to disappear across the threshold. I even witnessed empty doors opening and saw new people walking out as if appearing from nothing. You could see the dreamscapes they were visiting through the open doors, but there was no indication they were doing anything out of the norm when opening or closing them. With a "Harumph," William closed the door and stared at it in confusion.


    I had an inkling of what was happening. "You know, in my dreams, everything changes every night except one thing. The only consistent rule in my dream is whatever you expect to happen next is what will happen."


    William looked delighted. "That sounds wonderful! So anything you want happens?"


    I shook my head. "No, that''s not what I said. I said what you expect is what happens. Say you have that dream where everyone flies. If you doubt your ability to fly for even one second, you will fall, reinforcing that doubt and making you fall faster. If you''re hiding from a monster and become even momentarily afraid that he''ll find you, he will. The upside is if you can develop the mental discipline to control your fears and plan out what you believe is the most feasible way to overcome any obstacle, it will always work. You just gotta learn to silence the doubts and truly believe in yourself."


    William looked slightly off-put. "That sounds quite challenging. What kind of dreams do you have that you''ve developed this kind of discipline to deal with them?"


    Avoiding the subject, I smiled. "Well, would you rather hear me tell you about dreams, or would you like to see a dream?"


    That same smile was back on Williams''s face. "Oh yes, please! Let''s visit a dream!"


    Walking up to the door, I gripped the handle, closed my eyes, and tried to believe while mentally speaking to myself. "Obviously, this place was a dream, meaning this should work. All I have to do is imagine a place and..." I turned the nob and pushed the door open.


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    When I opened my eyes, on the other side was a jungle vista. If anyone had shown me video footage of this and told me this was filmed in Central America, I wouldn''t have doubted for a second. I walked through and immediately felt the humidity of the air and heard the echoing sound of birds calling to each other while leaves rustled in the trees. Behind me, William walked through as well, his grin growing so wide that his mouth was open in a permanent expression of delight as he looked high and low, inspecting trees, ferns, insects, or anything else that grabbed his fancy. He was so enthralled with every little thing I had to physically grab his shoulder to direct his attention to the massive ruins near our position. It looked like some Mayan temple, rising out of the jungle, covered in vines and shaded by the gigantic trees surrounding us almost all the way to the top, where it barely cleared the canopy.


    With a grin that wouldn''t be out of place on an infant getting his first taste of cake, William leaped up the stairs, laughing and babbling at the majesty of it all. I followed after at a more leisurely pace. There was the occasional snake or spider, but I knew from long practice that so long as I didn''t let my mind get away from me, they wouldn''t bother us.


    From the top of the temple, all we could see was miles and miles of jungle, going on seemingly forever in all directions. It was breathtaking, and I wish I could do it more justice here, but let''s just say that for once, my expression of amazement matched my companion''s.


    I''m not sure how long we waited up there. Time in a dream is oddly both stagnant and fleeting, but eventually, I asked, "So, how do we leave?"


    The ever-undaunted William turned to me with his same massive grin and simply said, "I haven''t a clue! Isn''t that marvelous?"


    I blinked a few times and laughed. Usually, not knowing how to get out of a place like this would be frightening, meaning I''d start to doubt myself, but it was hard to be scared of anything with my companion''s childlike glee. Instead, I closed my eyes and thought to myself for a moment. "If this is a dream, and we can control it, then why not..." Opening my eyes revealed another door, just like the first had appeared right before us, on top of this ancient temple in the middle of nowhere.


    William actually clapped. "Delightful! Oh, oh! This time, see if you can take us somewhere truly marvelous! Somewhere that can only exist in a dream!"


    Now that one gave me pause. All the places my dreams take place in are based in reality. How could I find a location unlike anything I have a basis for comparison? That''s when I realized it doesn''t have to be based on any place I''ve been. With all the movies I''ve watched and games I''ve played, I''ve seen some fantastic sights. Even if none of my dreams had ever been based in one of those locations, surely someone''s would have been. Closing my eyes, I took a breath, tried my best to believe, turned the nob, and opened the door again.


    This time what appeared in front of us was a faintly glowing pathway leading out over a vast empty space, through which sparkled countless stars and planets. As we stepped onto the path, we could see it seemed to go on forever into the distance, occasionally flanked by prominent crystalline structures built to a scale of some colossal being.


    As we wandered along the path, we watched speeding comets pass by lazy asteroids. Stars collapsed and were reborn in fiery explosions. It all looked so distant, but on an impulse, I reached out to a clearly visible nebula. My fingers felt warmth as they passed the much closer and much smaller than previously assumed stellar cloud, and as I pulled my fingers through, whisps of the nebula trailed after before slowing and swirling, then settling into a new formation.


    Needless to say, William had that same look of childlike wonder, his mouth fully agape as he looked around before turning back to me. "Now, this is a spectacle worth seeing! Even in my dreams, I''ve never witnessed anything even remotely this fantastic!"


    I grinned in return. "You know what, I agree. This is pretty awesome."


    William winked. "You can certainly consider me awestruck! I dare say this is a high point on an already fantastic night! I wish we could explore forever, but all good things come to an end. I suppose we''ll have to call it a night soon, or rather a morning!"


    I chuckled. "I suppose so. Any idea how we do that?"


    My companion shrugged. "Most likely, the same way we''ve been getting around. Call a door!"


    I nodded. "I guess that makes sense."


    Closing my eyes, I decided to call a door for William first, then when I looked, sure enough, a door stood in front of me. I stepped to the side and held my hand out, indicating he should be the one to open it.


    William stepped forward, took a deep breath, and opened the door. From my position, I could just make out the sleeping form of William. He looked as goofy as he did here, with the same stupid grin despite being asleep.


    The Dreamscape William turned to me with a smile and offered a handshake. "It''s been a pleasure! I hope we''ll meet again someday!" Then he stepped forward...but nothing happened. Or rather, something happened; he bounced off as if hitting some invisible barrier.


    Losing his grin, William stretched out a hand and touched the barrier on the open door. As he did so, ripples spread from each finger as though he''d touched a still pond, and the image on the other side of the door changed. Slowly, the bedroom changed to a darker color, with now familiar curtains covering the window, while the person sleeping in the bed faded from the ever-cheerful William into me.


    For the first time since I met him, William frowned. "Nonononono... This can''t be... What does this mean? I think, therefore, I am. But I don''t know if I think..." Turning to me, his eyes screamed a desperate plea. "How can I not know if I think?!?"


    I raised my hands to calm him. "Maybe you just need to call your own door! It''s fine! I''ll teach you how!"


    William was in full panic mode, pacing a small circle, muttering to himself. "No... I get it now... It''s the only explanation... I can''t open doors... I don''t remember... I don''t remember anything... It''s like..."


    Turning to me with fear in his eyes, he spoke to me again. "It''s like I never existed before we met!"


    I shook my head. "No, there''s got to be something else! This is a dreamscape, after all! Who knows what this place is or what it does?"


    By now, William had a vice grip on my arms and an anguished look in his eyes as he franticly pled. "Whatever you do, just remember me! I don''t want to die! Remember me!"


    I wanted to console him, to explain to him it would be alright, but the world was fading, and I was falling. I could feel my heartbeat pounding as I slowly became aware of my surroundings, but still, his voice echoed in my ears, increasingly desperate and despairing by the second. "Remember me! Please, god, remember me! I don''t want to disappear! Please remember..." And then I was awake.


    His voice was gone, and as I stared at the ceiling, I realized my heart was still thundering, and I had tears in my eyes. I lay there for several minutes, mourning the loss of someone who''d never existed. His last words, pleading for me to never forget him, echoed in my mind.


    And so, after I calmed myself down, I sat up and recorded this dream in my "Short stories to be written" journal to share with all of you.


    As for me, I''ve never dreamed of William since, though I think of him surprisingly often. Maybe, if you remember him too, William will never die. With luck, perhaps one of you will meet him in a dream between dreams, and you too can explore the wonders of the dreamscape.


    To William, my friend who never existed. I just want to say, I remember you.

 The Wyvern King: A tribute to a fallen warrior. (Drama Fantasy)

    I came to the north searching for a hero, the Wyvern King. Any bard worth his lorals wouldn''t waste the chance to speak with the people who actually knew the man behind these stories, and I''d finally pinpointed the town he''d hailed from. Locals from other nearby villages confirmed this was the source of the stories, but they''d also laughed when I''d mentioned my goal to write a ballad about the man. Refusing to be dissuaded, I continued, even trudging the last bit on foot since the snow had made the roads too perilous for a cart. Soon enough, I neared my goal.


    As I stumbled into the tavern, shaking far too much snow off my hat and shoulders, the patrons looked up, first in annoyance but soon enough in appreciation. It wasn''t often an isolated village like this got to enjoy music at the hands of a professional. I knew that, at the very least, I''d drink well tonight.


    After a quick word with the barkeep, who''d already sent some of the kitchen boys running to announce my presence to any thirsty patrons with a coin to spare, I set up to play a song or three to liven up the crowd and loosen their tongues. For a venue such as this, I started out with songs about barmaids and farm girls. They were simple tunes, more fun to sing along with than display any degree of skill, but you play to your crowd, and the crowd showed their appreciation in coin and drink.


    I got so swept away if the excitement of the night I played longer than I''d intended, and before I realized it, the crowd had thinned. Only a handful remained, a few older men, nursing their drinks by the fire, and the odd drunkard, sitting half in the shadows and half in their own drool.


    Pleading a need to respite, I settled in by the fire, hoping the men of this village might be able to give me a tale or two in return for the night''s entertainment. One older gentleman blessed with a rather imposing beard signaled for the maid to bring me another drink before he sat back and addressed me, his tone only slightly mocking. "What brings a fancy bard like yourself to our humble little village?"


    Deciding I''d never get a better lead in than that, I went right to the heart of my quest. "I''ve come looking for tales of a local hero, the Wyvern King!"


    The man blinked a few times before throwing his head back in laughter, and soon the other somewhat sober patrons did the same. I couldn''t help but frown. "I''m sorry, I thought this was the village from which he hailed. Am I mistaken?"


    Eventually, the bearded man got himself under control. "Oh, aye, this is the village the ''Wyvern King'' hails from. But we call him a different name around here. We just call him ''Thick'' on account of that thick skull of his. He should have died a dozen times over, but it must be true what they say about god watching over idiots and the like!"


    Well, this wasn''t what I expected, but still, I''m not the type to turn down any first-hand story, even if it didn''t agree with the tale I wanted to tell, so I decided to push further. "Oh? That doesn''t sound like the hero I''ve heard about before. What was he like?"


    One of the other men relaxing by the fire, this one heavyset and balding, laughed again. "A hero? A HERO? Thick is no hero! Why he even managed to burn down the lord''s stables! Let me tell you, that turned into a right mess, with him running through the streets, dodging the local guardsmen, shouting things like, ''Do you know who I am? I''m a warrior! You''re all nothing! NOTHING!''"


    The bearded man joined in. "Oh, aye! I remember that day! I thought for sure he''d swing from the gallows! But come morning, his bright purple hair was nowhere to be seen in the stocks. Some say he broke out in the middle of the night. Others say he bribed the lord with treasures he''d found on one of his ''adventures.'' But me? I think he just begged and pleaded till no one had the heart to do anything but let him go free. As crazy as he was, it was impossible not to like the man!"


    Well, this was hardly the tale of the hero I was looking for, but the bearded man had said something that finally sounded like the start of a ballad, so I tried to shift the conversation back to the action I was hoping for. "You said ''one of his adventures.'' So what kind of adventures did he get up to? How''d he earn the title, ''Wyvern King?"


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    At that, another man chuckled, this one wearing the coat of a town guard, probably relaxing after a day of the job. "Oh, I can answer that one. I was there, you see! We''d been sent to clear up the lair of the last of the wyverns in the area. Not ol'' Thick,'' mind ya, just us guards, and when we got there, a small party went into the cave to scout it out before we went in en force. Well, there we were, carefully crawling through the caves, when an unholy ruckus broke out ahead of us. At first, I thought we''d been spotted, but soon enough, that purple-haired idiot Thick came running past, carrying a wyvern egg no less! We all ducked and hid because hot on his heels were a half dozen wyverns, roaring and shooting flames, chasing that witless fool! I thought he''d die right then and there, but he just kept running, taunting the beasts. ''I''ve got your baby! I''m going to rule you all! I''m going to be the wyvern king!'' When he got back to the village, the egg was gone. He said he lost it running from the wyverns in the trees, but regardless the story spread, and the name kind of stuck."


    Well, that didn''t sound brave so much as foolhardy, but there was one last tale that was so heroic not even these three could spoil it completely. So with that last kernel of hope, I tried again. "But what about the time he single-handedly defended the northern pass from an entire army? They say he rode a mighty wyvern into battle and chased the invaders all the way back through the mountains!"


    At that, the three men grew silent a moment before the bearded one shook his head. "Well, I suppose you''re not entirely wrong there. Ol'' Thick did go out and meet them to try and buy time for the village. I suppose that was brave enough, but he died out there, same as all the invaders. But it wasn''t wyvern fire that did the job; those beasts are all dead now, remember? It was simple snow and ice. An avalanche buried them all, and that''s the end of your ''Wyvern King.'' May God rest his soul."


    That last one took the wind out of my sails. My epic ballad of the Wyvern King was dead. The rest of the patrons shuffled out as I sat around, wondering if maybe I could salvage this trip by putting together a comedy or perhaps a tragedy. Soon enough, I sat alone by the fire, or at least I was until one last drunkard sat down next to me to warm his hands, setting his bag near my feet.


    Looking up, I saw the man was shorter than average and bald, though he was well-muscled and even had a scar on his face that seemed to resemble a bad burn, as though he''d been scorched by some immense heat. Then, noticing my attention, he turned and winked at me, a crazy gleam in his eyes as he spoke. "Now, don''t mind them any. You go write your songs and tell your tales, and don''t let the small minds of nobodies like them slow you down!"


    I raised my eyebrow. "Nobodies?"


    The man grinned, and the madness in his eyes deepened as he spoke. "The way I see it, you can always play it safe, doing the smart thing and stay a nobody all your life, or you can go out there, take a risk and make something out of yourself! Nobody ever became somebody by sitting by a fire and telling you to play it safe!"


    I blinked a few times as I slowly came out of my depression from moments before. Finally, finally, this was a man I could talk to! This was a man with a story worth hearing! But before I could say anything, the man stood, grabbing the bag he''s set down not long ago. As he lifted the bad, I caught the briefest glimpse of a bright purple shock of hair as though it had been mounted on a helmet. The kind that would stand up tall as one rode into battle. He stretched his neck as if loosening up for something. "Oh, and for the record, back when they were still around, not all the wyverns breathed fire. You should ask around about the frost wyverns. That might help your tale a bit."


    As he walked to the door, I realized I had to say something before he left. "Who... who are you?"


    The man looked back, his grin shouting that he was about to do something truly insane and maybe just a little brave. "Who, me? I''m just a warrior!" With that, he walked out into the snow.


    I shot to my feet, and ran to the door, questions tumbling through my mind in a chaotic jumble. But when I reached the door, I was met with a fierce wind. It almost knocked me off my feet, forcing me to cover my eyes lest I be blinded.


    As I turned around and viewed the tavern, I couldn''t help but think the place seemed smaller without that man''s presence, as if the whole place was somehow lesser for his absence. But despite that, I felt an excitement in my soul, every bit as strong as that which first spurned me on my journey. As I sat down to begin scribbling down the ballad of the Wyvern King, I realized my mouth was twisted in a grin that echoed the craziness of the man who''d been here not long ago. For you see, I saw something in that storm that brought every one of those tales I''d heard back to life. For only the briefest of moments, I saw the outline of the wings of a wyvern.

 Dont go into impossible houses... (Light horror, Holloween themed)

    With the Halloween season approaching, I decided to get this warning out to everyone I could reach. If you ever come across a haunted house that shouldn''t be there, don''t go inside. This haunted house pops up between two other houses you already know. It won''t be squeezed in like someone built a new house in the middle of the two plots, but rather, it''ll fit in like the whole place was designed that way. It''ll be as if the street had always been a few hundred feet longer than you remember. If such a house appears out of nowhere, do not approach it, do not knock on the door, and whatever you do, do not cross the threshold. Once you do, your fate is sealed.


    Unfortunately, no one gave me this warning when I was a kid. Maybe it was new, or perhaps there just weren''t many survivors back then. Whatever the case, no one warned me, so when I went up, knocked on the door, and shouted, "Trick or treat!" I did not listen to the small doubt in the back of my mind that told me to run away.


    Now, every year, I have to go back to that living nightmare. After all, I''m on the expected guest list now, and if you don''t show up at the haunted house on Halloween night, the house comes looking for you, and from what I''ve heard, it''s much, much worse if you force its hand.


    The years have somewhat blurred together, but I still remember the first time all too well. I sometimes curse myself for not listening to my doubts when I walk up to that place, but to be fair, as well decked out as this house was, any kid would expect to get a bag full of loot. The owner clearly went all out. There were realistic tombstones out front of open graves with names like "Timmy" and "John" dated for that very day. Some people in spooky costumes carried body bags out to fill some of the graves as I walked up. I even remember wondering how often they pulled the bodies back out to repeat the show for trick-or-treaters like me.


    When you knock on the door, a man I named "The Ringleader" in my head opens the door and invites you inside. Any sane person would probably take one look at the guy, turn around, and walk away. He looks like someone stapled skin directly onto a skeleton, with no thought of where musculature or fat should exist. His eyes look like they''re so loose in his sockets that if he leaned too far forward, they''d just fall out and roll around on the ground. His teeth were yellowed and broken enough to give any dentist nightmares for weeks to come, and he wore a baggy, faded suit complete with long tails and a top hat.


    On your first visit, The Ringleader will ask you the same question you''ve probably heard a thousand times before. "And what are you supposed to be?" This is actually one of the few breaks the house gives you. You see, you get one benefit based on what you are. For example, if you say you''re a pirate or a ninja, that cheap plastic sword you came in with will become real, a dragon might get actual claws and scales, and so on. At the time, you might think this is cool, but it''s really just a chance for the house to make the game more...sporting. And if you manage to survive, you''ll be that same thing every time you return until you finally lose the game.


    Now I know what some of you are thinking. "What were you dressed as when you showed up." Honestly, I don''t remember. That may seem like it doesn''t make sense, but let me explain. You see, while the other kids around me were shouting things like, "I''m a soldier!" or, "I''m a princess!" I just stood there, frozen in fear. The part of my brain that should have kept me from crossing that threshold finally kicked in, and I could tell that this man, no, this monster, was looking at all of us as though we were nothing more than slabs of meat. The funny thing is everyone always talks about the fight-or-flight response, but many people fail to realize that there''s a third option that your brain can pick to override your thought process, and that''s freeze. So when the monster, literally wearing human skin, turned to me and asked, "And what are you supposed to be?" I froze. After a few seconds, he grinned and answered for me. "I see we have a coward!"


    At the time, my face burned in shame as the other kids in the room laughed at my new title, but that was the luckiest thing that could have ever happened to me. You see, over the years, I see fewer and fewer familiar faces coming out of the house when I show up for my run. In fact, I''ve only seen one other person I know in the last five years, but we''ll get to him in a bit. Nowadays, when I show up, The Ringleader checks me off on his list and glowers when he says my title, "The Coward..." and I can''t help but grin smugly at him. It''s probably not wise to provoke the house that way, but in all these years, The Ringleader has been unable to win our little life-and-death game, and it''s all thanks to the title he gave me.


    Like many haunted places, this house has some rules. Thankfully, it''s not a long and complicated list designed to trip you up through sheer complexity. There are only three simple things you need to know.


    The first rule is the wolfman is in the basement. This is important because despite how innocuous he sounds, the wolfman is quite possibly the most dangerous obstacle the house has. He''s immortal, insanely fast, and impossibly strong. Once he gets your scent, you just have to hope you''re close enough to the basement stairs to climb them before he catches you, and if you''re not fast enough, you''re food. Most of my closest calls came from encounters with the wolfman.


    The second rule is to escape the house, you must first find the heart of the house. The heart is in a different location every year, and no one will tell you where. You just have to find it, touch it, and get out. This is where being "The Coward" comes in handy. My benefit is I get hunches. Those hunches might be about a new monster or room you encounter; best of all, they might tell me where the heart is located. The problem is, it''s just a hunch, and it''s far too easy to let my hopes or fears get in the way of a hunch, but over the years, I''ve learned to trust my gut. It''s a lot smarter than I am.


    Oh, and the third rule? It''s even more straightforward than the other two. If Mister Hyde joins the hunt, everyone dies. That''s it. You just have to hope and pray that Mister Hyde decides to sit out another year. You can do a few things to mitigate that risk, but I''m getting ahead of myself.


    The rest of my first year was pretty forgetful, relatively speaking. There were some ghosts and zombies to run from, and the heart was in the kitchen. I don''t even remember seeing any kids dying that time, but I do remember that while all the other kids were laughing and joking while running through the house, I noticed that those zombies looked just a little too real, and the blood and gore some of them had glistening on their lips looked like it might have belonged to those body bags out front. Maybe the house was taking pity on us because we were just kids, or perhaps it wanted to let our fear simmer a little before it went all out. Over the following years, I saw some of those same kids again, but eventually, all their grins turned grim, and the laughter disappeared.


    That''s more or less what it was like for a few years. I ran through the house, got to the heart, and ran out. Once you reach the threshold and start leaving the yard, there''s just one last obstacle. There, sitting on a bench you never see when you''re approaching the house, is a being of pure malevolence. He looks like an oversized man, with arms that are far too long of his body, and always has a grin that would be goofy if it weren''t so evil. This is Mister Hyde. You must look at and acknowledge him, usually with a head tilt, then look away and pray he decided your fear is enough that year.


    One time, I stared just a little too long, and he stood up and followed me to the yard''s edge. The whole time, I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck, and I knew that if I so much as picked up the pace or turned around, I was dead. Another year, I saw him sitting there with a corpse in his lap. He''d shoved his hand through the back of its skull and was using it like a puppet to make crude jokes and laugh at all the victims walking by. By then, I knew it wasn''t just a prop, and I wondered what that poor soul had done to attract Mister Hyde''s attention. Maybe nothing. Perhaps it was just an unlucky day for the poor guy. I try not to think about Mister Hyde too much; I get the feeling he knows when you''re thinking about him, and I''d prefer not to attract too much of his attention.


    When I was fourteen, I made the biggest mistake of my life. My mom told me to take my little brother, nine at the time, out trick or treating. No matter how much I protested or told her I had something important to do, she wouldn''t relent, so eventually, I gave up and took him.


    Sure enough, the house showed up partway through our little adventure. I remember looking my brother in the eyes and telling him, "Stay out here! I have to take care of something, and you don''t want any part of it. Okay?" Of course, he nodded.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    When I got inside, The Ringleader started checking us off the guest list. After I introduced myself as "The Coward" (I still hated the title at the time), I heard an all too familiar voice say, "I''m a wizard!" Looking down in horror, I could see my kid brother standing there, grinning like the idiot he was.


    I tried protesting. "No, no, no! He''s not supposed to be here! Let him out right now!" But The Ringleader grinned and answered, "All are welcome in the haunted house, and the only way out is forward!" He motioned us through.


    The first bit of our run was pretty standard. There were a few zombies that were easily dodged, and this time, the heart was on the second floor. While climbing the stairs, giant spiders jumped down and grabbed people, then dragged them up into the rafters as they kicked and screamed. One came for my kid brother, but with a swift kick, it fell to the floor below. As the nightmare on eight legs started scuttling back up the stairs, we ran up and closed ourselves into the first room available.


    But of course, there''s no such thing as a safe room in a haunted house like this, and sure enough, as we turned around away from the door, we came face to midriff with a living shadow. It stood tall enough that it had to hunch over in a room more than big enough to house even the tallest NBA players comfortably. I call it a living shadow because its skin seemed to absorb light, creating a void wherever it was. I remember it reaching out and grabbing me, and my skin burning from the extreme cold of its touch. But then my brother decided to take advantage of his gift, and I kid you not, he held out his hand like a finger gun and shouted, "Bang!" To this day, I have no idea how it worked or how he knew it would work, but the thing screamed and dropped me, clutching its arm like it''d been shot.


    We kicked out the door, which thankfully slammed into the spider that had been chasing us, stunning it as we ran to the end of the hall, wherein lay the master bedroom and the heart of the house. The heart is a very literal heart, by the way, about the size of a large dog, usually visible through a crack in the wall. I''ve seen people stab it, shoot it, burn it, and do just about anything else you can think of (Yes, my brother has used his finger guns on it.), and while the damage sometimes looks impressive, it always comes back the next year as if nothing happened. In this case, we merely tagged it, ran back into the hallway, vaulted the banister rather than trying the stairs again, and ran back out the entrance, home free.


    Of course, now my brother has to run the haunted house every year. We make a point to go together, as between my coward hints and his magic finger guns, we seem to have a pretty strong advantage against whatever the house wants to throw at us. But that''s not to say we don''t have our close calls.


    Two years ago, the heart was in the basement, and you remember what''s in the basement, don''t you? For most veterans, the basement is the last place you look, only after you''ve cleared the rest of the house, but when my gut says to go downstairs, that''s where we go. It went pretty much like every trip downstairs goes. The place is filled with junk piled taller than me and smelled of cement, exposed carpentry, and mildew that many Midwest basements seem to have. The layout also changes every year, so you are stuck kind of shuffling about, hoping you stumble into the right room without being caught. Listening for screams and trying to go the other way.


    This time, we got to the heart without incident, which was good, but the wolfman started chasing us on our way out. As I broke into a run, I could hear the wolfman right behind me, but I figured I had just enough time to reach the stairs, and then I tripped. Falling in the basement is about as surefire a death sentence as you can get in the house, and sure enough, in half a moment, the wolfman was on me. I still have the scars from where he cut my arm up as I protected my face and throat. My only consolation then was that at least my brother got away. However, not a moment later, the wolfman and I looked up in time to see my brother, with both hands making his classic finger guns, as he pointed right at the wolfman''s left eye and shouted, "Bang!" Let me tell ya, seeing a full-grown man making finger guns and yelling "Bang" with a straight face is quite the spectacle, but you gotta do whatever you can to survive that place.


    Now, the wolfman might be immortal, but that apparently doesn''t mean he can''t feel pain because he sat up and screamed while holding his eye. I could see bits of his skull while blood and other substances leaked between his fingers.


    I didn''t need an engraved invitation. I placed my feet square in the middle of his chest and kicked for everything I was worth. As the wolfman flew back, I rolled over and scrambled up the stairs on all fours like a kid who''d just turned out the light. We both took a moment at the top of the basement stairs to laugh nervously before hearing an impossibly loud and engaged howl come from the basement. We decided not to push out luck any longer and got the hell out of dodge, winking at The Ringleader and nodding more respectfully to Mister Hyde as we passed.


    That brings us to last year when at least one of the rules got broken for the first time. My brother and I met up as usual. I smirked at The Ringleader as he scowled at my title. We got past the starting zombies quickly enough. Seriously, who dies to those things? But then I got the feeling the heart was out back, in the garden. I was just relieved it wasn''t the basement, as I didn''t want to see the wolfman so soon after our last encounter.


    There was a glass passageway between the house and the garden, and this time, it was filled with paper cranes floating gently on unseen currents of air, many of which seemed to have tiny rubies glistening on their wings. Of course, nothing in this house is ever innocent, and as we started walking carefully through the passage, the cranes began swooping, and every time they passed by, their wings glided across the skin, giving a nasty papercut. That''s when I noticed several bodies on the ground with pools of blood around them, apparently death by a thousand cuts. Not having time to think, I raised my arms, covering my eyes, and charged forward. By the time I reached the end, I had probably somewhere between twenty and thirty paper cuts, all of which stung worse than a bee sting, but remembering the bodies in the room, it could have been much worse.


    What awaited us in the garden was a solitary figure. There, standing watch, as if he''d been plucked right out of an old Japanese movie, was an honest-to-god heavily armored samurai. His face was obscured by his mask, but I''m reasonably sure that if I pulled down the mask, the armor would have been hollow. However, looking at the bodies beside the samurai that had obviously been cut in two, I decided not to indulge my curiosity. Judging by the placement of the bodies, some had tried to fight, and others had tried to run.


    My brother got ready to fight, and immediately, the warrior''s hand flew to his sword, but I placed a hand on my brother''s shoulder and pulled him back, stepping forward to face the samurai myself.


    As the samurai slowly drew his blade, rather than fight or flee, I got down on my knees and bowed, deciding to acknowledge that there was little else we could do. "Oh great warrior, we beseech you, be merciful and let us pass." Yeah, it was a little flowery, I admit, but hey, when asking a ghost samurai to spare your life, sometimes you have to go all out. When, after a moment, he didn''t cut me down, which I''m at least forty-five percent sure was due to my actions and words, I motioned for my brother to do the same. After a few more moments, the samurai sheathed his sword and returned to his vigil, and we got off our knees and passed by, approaching the heart of the house.


    This time, the heart was standing in a glass cylinder coming out of a rose bush. Carefully opening the cylinder, we touched the heart, which was as warm and slimy as ever, before turning to leave. However, just as we did so, there, coming out of the glass passageway, came the one thing I least wanted to see at that moment. The Wolfman.


    He looked a little different than I remembered. Half his face was rotted away, leaving his skull exposed. He had maggots wriggling and writhing in the empty socket that had once housed his eye. His teeth and claws were covered in the blood of whoever had been unfortunate enough to get between him and his goal. And judging by the glare of his sole functional eye, we were that goal.


    He stepped forward, crouching to begin his chase. Without the basement stairs nearby, I knew we didn''t stand a chance of outrunning him. Unsure of what to do, I froze while my mind ran through what few options we had again and again. However, once again, my cowardice saved the day. As the wolfmen charged forward, he was intercepted by the samurai. The sideways slash should have cut him in half, but the wolfman simply twisted and turned, bending his spine in a way that should have been impossible, before stopping to glare at his new obstacle. However, the samurai did not hesitate and stepped forward again, this time performing an upward slash even faster than his first strike. Realizing he wouldn''t get past this annoyance without addressing it, the wolfman launched himself forward, latching onto his opponent. The two fell and grappled in the dirt, and we took the opportunity to run past. When the wolfman reached out to us, the samurai took his smaller blade and plunged it into the wolfman''s side, and their combat resumed.


    Running through the passageway, all the paper cranes were mangled and torn, lying on the ground, no longer a threat. Once inside, we could see the zombies in the house, all torn to pieces. Running into the entranceway, the Ringleader was just plain missing. Then we were outside and free. We took a moment to catch our breath, but when I looked up to acknowledge Mister Hyde, I realized he was also missing from his usual seat. Then, the screaming started in the house behind us. Some screams always echoed out of the house, but not like this. The screams were tortured and often inhuman. They were also interposed without bouts of manic laughter.


    Looking at each other, we both nodded and decided to run. We could wait a year to find out what was happening behind us!


    And that brings us to this year. I don''t know what awaits me at the haunted house this time. Maybe it won''t even show up...but somehow, I doubt I''ll be that lucky.

 The gods have returned (Light Horror)

    Perhaps this is the first town they''ve visited, maybe the last. Either way, the gods walk among us once more. All they ask is for a glance, and then they grant you bliss, ecstasy, eternity, and devotion, followed by oblivion.


    I live out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing. Well, that might be an exaggeration. There are a few houses, the bar where I worked, a gas station, and in the middle of town, where Main Street crosses Pine, there''s even a stoplight. I''m not sure what the population was, but it''s down to one now. Well, one human, anyway.


    The gods are still here. Every night, they come to visit me. They offer an end to pain and suffering. They promise I''ll never feel alone again. They swear to love and devote everything to me. All I have to do is look, and I want to. I want to look so bad. Maybe it won''t be so bad, maybe it will be worth it... But first, I figured I''d get the message out. This may be a warning...or an offer. I suppose that''s up to you to decide.


    It all started a few weeks ago. Or maybe it was months? I don''t know. One day seems to bleed into the next now. I''m not even certain time is passing at all anymore. Whenever it was, John was the first to discover the old gods.


    Honestly, at first, I thought he was just screwing around. We all did. John was always the type to take a practical joke too far. So when he came over for poker night, saying things like, "Guys, guys, the gods have returned! It''s amazing! You have to come check it out!" no one took him seriously. Honestly, why should we? It didn''t even sound like one of his more clever jokes. So when he went around asking a bunch of us to come to check it out, no one listened. However, I did notice the tips of the fingers on his left hand were stained oddly. They were white like he''d dipped them in something.


    I figured that would be the last I''d hear about it, but only a day or so later, another of our friends, Rob, started saying the same thing. "The gods have returned! John was right! This is something you all have to see!"


    I stopped him and asked what in the hell he was talking about, but he just gripped my shoulder and smiled like some born-again nut job. "Dude, I''m serious! John was right! The gods have returned, but he didn''t mention how beautiful they are! It''s something you have to see to believe!"


    I rolled my eyes. "Common man. I don''t know what you''re going on about, but I don''t have time for this right now. Go bother someone else with this stuff. I got work in the morning."


    Rob just shrugged. "Your loss. But don''t worry, they aren''t going anywhere. The gods are nothing if not patient. They just need a little more strength, then they''ll come to visit, and you''ll see!"


    As I walked away, I just shook my head, wondering if they''d joined some new cult or something. I also remember seeing that the tips of Rob''s finders were stained white, just like John''s had been.


    It didn''t take long. Soon, more and more people were talking about the gods'' return, and every one of them was trying their hardest to get their friends and family to come see. Understandably, a bunch of us were kind of put out about it, to put it mildly.


    John seemed to be the leader of this new cult. He''d hold gatherings, trying to recruit people to "Come see the returned gods!" And whenever someone went, they came back talking about the gods like all the rest. I didn''t really speak to him or Rob anymore. I didn''t really know what was happening, and I didn''t want to know. The whole thing felt wrong.


    That more or less was the lead-up to the night that changed everything. I was working at the bar, late, of course. Since this whole thing started, there were a lot fewer people coming in, but those that did drank all the more, so I wasn''t really hurting in the cash department. However, all the conversations seemed pretty much the same. People talking about how they''d lost friends or family to this new cult. Even the town priest, Father Timbel, was sitting in the corner. He was drunk, ranting, and raving to anyone who''d listen. "They''re all going to Hell if they don''t repent! Every last one! They and their false idols will burn forever!" He was working up to something, and I wasn''t sure I wanted to be there when he figured out what it was.


    I was just debating whether I should try to tell Dave, the bouncer, to kick the priest out when the door opened, and in walked John. For the record, he wasn''t quite what you expected in a cult leader. He wore blue jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. But he did have that same self-contented smile he always wore these days that made you want to punch him in the face, and it looked like a few of our patrons were getting up to do just that.


    I gave Dave a look, and the big man nodded and stood up to take care of things, but John held up his hands in surrender. "Relax, I''m not here to start trouble with anyone! I just thought that those of you who were unable or unwilling to come see the gods would like to know they''ve come to us instead. They''re outside right now. All you have to do is look for yourself, and you''ll see what all the commotion is about!"


    The first to look was Dave, probably because he was already headed in that direction. Pretty soon, the big man was pressed up against the glass like a kid looking into a shop window on Christmas Eve. The drunks, ready to pick a fight, were next and soon found themselves pressed up against the window as well. Soon, all the skeptics were craning their heads to get a look, and shortly after that, they were all but climbing over each other to get a better look out the window. Even Father Timbel was there, in the middle of everything. He was still shouting, but his tone had changed, and he sounded like he was giving a Sunday sermon. "Praise be the gods! They have graced us with their presence! Blessed are us who have been granted this gift! Praise be the gods!"


    Luckily for me, from where I was standing, I didn''t have a great view of the window, so I couldn''t see whatever it was everyone was going on about. After everyone started going nuts, I got this uncomfortable feeling and backed away. I don''t remember much of what happened after that. I started drinking our stock, and things got fuzzy, but I remember staying the hell away from the window. I heard someone rush outside. I think it was Father Timbel, but I''m not sure. The only other thing I clearly remember that night was what I saw when John raised his hands. His entire left hand and arm were white like marble, except for his fingertips, which were starting to crack and peel like they were rotting away.


    When I finally woke up the next day, I wanted to die. Not just because sleeping on the bar floor combined with my hangover to make me wish the apocalypse had happened, but also because everyone in town was walking around with expressions of pure bliss, talking about how excited they were about the return of the gods, and how blessed we all were. I noticed a large ash pile in front of the bar. Some idiot had probably started a fire in the street or something, but I didn''t care enough to do anything about it and just locked up shop so I could head home. However, it seemed like everyone I passed had white fingertips on their left hand.


    I stopped by the gas station to pick up some breakfast, but despite being wide open, no one was manning the counter. It was like someone walked out in the middle of the night and left everything like it was. Not wanting to be a thief but not knowing what to do, I grabbed some food, threw some money on the counter, and went home, climbing up to the third story of the apartment I lived in.


    I''m not sure how long after that I got a phone call. At a Glance, I could see it was Mike, one of my other friends who knew John. I debated letting it ring but decided I had to give him a chance. If he said anything about worshiping the gods, though, I was gonna hang up.


    When I finally answered, Mike seemed kinda on edge, not that I blamed him. "Oh, thank god you answered. Just tell me you''re not one of those cultists now, are you?"


    I almost shook my head as I answered, but my still-pounding headache changed my mind. "No, I''m not some drooling maniac, though it seems like there''s a few more of those now..."


    Mike seemed relieved. "Yeah, there''s a lot more of those! Listen, it looks like the town''s been overrun, but Sam and I have a plan!"


    I didn''t like the sound of that. Mike and Sam were good enough guys, but they were also not what I would call the best planners. They were more of a dive-in and figure it out as you go kinda duo. But I wanted to hear what he had to say, so I let him continue. "Listen, man, just come over to our house before nightfall. I think it''s time we did something about these ''gods.'' Just bring some beer!" I agreed, not like I had much to lose at this point, and hung up.


    Around six in the evening, I knocked on the door, beer in hand, and Mike answered. The dude was geared up in camo like some sort of overweight commando who knew more about World of Warcraft than urban camouflage. Not that I was any expert, but something told me different shades of green wouldn''t help him hide inside his beige house.


    I looked around, expecting to see Sam in a similar getup, but he was nowhere to be seen. I looked back at Mike. "So what''s the plan? We cover ourselves in mud to hide from their heat vision."


    Mike looked surprised. "No. Why? Do they have heat vision?"


    I shook my head. "No, I was just...it doesn''t matter. So what''s the plan?"


    Mike motioned me inside, then walked over to an open window, where he had an old rifle against the wall. "Listen, Sam and I were talking, and we think whatever it is they do to change people is kinda like Medusa. You know, from Greek history? You look them in the eye, and you get turned. Well, the way we see it, They can''t look at both of us at the same time if we''re on opposite sides of the street, so Sam is just across the way. When one of them comes down the street, We''ll both take a shot, and one of us will get them for sure!"


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    I shook my head. "You mean Greek mythology... Wait, isn''t crossing your file lanes, or whatever they''re called, toward each other a bad thing? One of you is gonna get shot!"


    Mike shook his head. "We''re not that stupid! We''re not gonna wait until they''re right between us. We''ll take our shot when they''re still down the street a bit."


    Firing a couple of rifles in a residential area sounded stupid, but honestly, I didn''t care all that much anymore. "So why am I here?"


    Mike looked at the beer in my hands. "Because of that! If we''re gonna be staking out the neighborhood, I figured we''d need something to drink and someone to talk to!"


    That figured. Mike picked up a two-way radio he had next to the window. "Hey, Sam, beer''s here. Come get some!"


    Long story short, the first part of the night went about how you''d expect. Lots of drinking and bullshitting in a dark room so the light wouldn''t alert anyone or spoil Mike''s aim. I had my back to the wall with the window to resist the temptation to look and was feeling a nice buzz, nothing too serious, when Sam''s voice came out over the radio. "Hey, Mike, I see some shadows moving our way down the street. Duck down, and we''ll pop up on the count of five and fire, alright?"


    Mike ducked down. "Uh, ten four!"


    I shook my head. What, were we in Smoky and the Bandit now? Still, I couldn''t help but feel just a tiny bit of hope. Maybe this could work.


    Sam started the count. "One."


    I took another sip of my beer, doing my best not to look up and out the window.


    "Two."


    Mike had a grip on his gun and a determined look in his eye.


    "Three."


    I put down my beer. It felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.


    "Four"


    This was it...


    "Five!"


    Mike stood up and started lifting his gun...then stopped. I was hoping to hear a rifle shot ring out from the other side, but all I heard was Mike say, "Oh...huh," and watched as he put down his gun.


    Looking up at him, I was afraid he was already gone, but I had to ask anyway. "What''s going on? What do you see?"


    Mike just looked down at me. "Oh, yeah, nothing much... Listen, I''m gonna check something out quickly. I''ll be right back."


    I shook my head. "No, man, are you crazy? Stay here! You don''t want to go out there!"


    Mike just grinned that same stupid grin John always had these days. "Naw, man, it''ll be fine. I''m just gonna... I''ll be right back." Then he walked out the door.


    I sat with my back to the window, listening for everything I was worth.


    But try as I might, I couldn''t make out anything that didn''t sound like any other night in the middle of nowhere. My heart pounded as one minute bled into two, then three. My mind was screaming at me to stand up and look out the window, to try and see what was going on, but I just sat there and refused to move. I''m not sure how long I sat there alone in the dark. If I had to guess, I''d say it was more than a half hour, less than an hour. Eventually, the fear gave way to boredom, and I finally reached out for my beer.


    As my fingers touched the can, a voice spoke to me from the open window over my head. It sounded like it was just inches away from the widow. I felt like I could reach out and touch it. "Hello." I think my heart actually missed a beat or two as my fear level went from two to ten in a split second. A part of my mind imagined I could feel their breath as they spoke again. It sounded warm and welcoming, almost loving. A piece of my mind pictured a beautiful woman in a gorgeous red dress, but the other part imagined a desiccated mummy with a fox skull where its head should be. "No need to worry yourself. We don''t bite. Why don''t you turn around and take a look? We promise you''ll feel better if you do..."


    I didn''t know what to say or even what to think. So, instead, I held my breath and willed my heart to stop beating so loud. After a moment, the voice returned. "Still not willing to look? That''s okay. We''re patient. Take your time and look when you''re ready. Then you''ll realize how silly these fears of yours really are."


    I sat there the rest of the night, frozen in fear. I must have passed out at some point because I was awoken by light streaming through the window. With a start, I hopped to my feet and ran to the door. Mike kept his keys on a shelf next to the door, and I grabbed those before pulling the door open. As I stepped out onto the walkway, I noticed a pile of white ash not far from the door. I had a sneaking suspicion that that was what was left of Mike. Across the road, in front of the other door, was another pile. In fact, looking down the street, there were several.


    Ignoring the implications, I ran to Mike''s car, got in, and turned the ignition. Nothing. Not even the sound of the engine trying to turn over. A few more attempts ended the same. I got out and walked around the front of the car, but it seemed fine. I popped the hood, and while I''m no mechanic, everything seemed to be in place.


    Giving up on this car, I headed across the street, stepped over the ash pile, and tried Sam''s door. It was unlocked. I found his keys on the hook he had next to his front door, but his car yielded the same result.


    Not sure of what to do, I headed home. Some people were walking down the street, all wearing dreamy smiles like they''d had the night of their lives, but there were a lot less than the day before. I ignored them and fumbled for my keys at my front door, only to realize the door was unlocked.


    I walked in cautiously, unsure what to expect, and found John waiting for me in the living room. He nodded to me. "Hey, man. What''s up?"


    I glared at him momentarily, unsure what to say, so he continued. "Listen, man, I know this all seems weird and all, but trust me, everything is going to be okay!"


    I looked at his left hand, or rather where it should have been. There was nothing there. "That doesn''t look okay."


    John held up his handless arm. "Oh, this? This is nothing. Practically a paper cut in comparison to what I''ve been given. Listen, I just want you to know no one will force your hand. The gods have told me you''re to be left alone. You can join them when you''re good and ready. No one will trouble you until then. Everything is going to be okay."


    I just looked at him incomprehensibly for a moment before feeling a surge of rage. "Everything is going to be okay? Everything is going to be okay? Do you know what''s happening out there every night? People are dying! Mike is gone! Sam is gone! They were your friends, and they''re gone!"


    John nodded with that same satisfied smile on his face. "I know, and I envy them. How wonderful it must be to be one with the gods!"


    I couldn''t help it. Whatever reason I possessed was gone in a flash. I stepped forward and punched John in the head as hard as I could. He didn''t even try to resist. When he fell, his left arm slammed into the ground and crumbled. Out of his sleeve poured a small pile of ash. That brought my rage to an end, leaving me with something between pity and disgust as John held up his other hand in surrender. "Alright, alright. I''ll leave. You won''t have to worry about me bothering you anymore. Tonight, the gods will accept me and let me know the joy of their embrace. But you''ll still be here, all alone. I wonder how long you''ll make them wait? I wonder how long you''ll punish yourself." I debated kicking him in the head as he got up but decided I''d rather not give myself more of a mess to clean up.


    After he left, I realized how exhausted I was. I couldn''t bring myself to care anymore, and instead went to bed and slept. I don''t know how long I slept, but the room was dark when I awoke. A moment later, there was a tapping at my window. I was groggy enough that I almost turned and looked but stopped myself. After a moment, the tapping repeated itself, but rather than look, I just threw the covers over my head and went back to sleep.


    The next day, when I went out into the street, it was like the whole place was abandoned, though there were piles of ash all over the place. For a moment, I wondered which one was John, but then shrugged and decided to go get some food.


    Over the course of the day, I wandered around. Every house and business in the town was unlocked and open, so there was no shortage of food or drink for me, but none of the cars worked, and I was way too far away from the next town to reach it on foot.


    I wandered around during the day for the next week or two. Doing whatever I could to pass the time. Then at night I went back home and slept in my bed. Every night, I''d be awoken by someone tapping at my window, and every night I ignored it. After a while, I tried sleeping in different people''s houses. After all, why not? It was not like anyone was there to object. But every night, the tapping sound found me.


    Finally, out of boredom one night, or maybe out of a need to socialize with someone...or something, I returned home. That night, I left my window open and sat with my back to the night, my head just above the windowsill. Not long after dark, the voice from before returned. "Hello again." Surprisingly, I didn''t jump out of my skin.


    I''d thought through a thousand questions I was going to ask, but none of them came to mind at that moment. All I could think to ask was, "What are you?"


    I''d expected anger or annoyance, maybe even for whatever it was to sound insulted, but instead, it spoke to me calmly and kindly, like a teacher talking with a favored student. "That is a complicated question, but I suppose a simpler one would be, "What are we...to you?''"


    I shook my head. "Okay, then what are you, to me?"


    I could hear a smile in the voice like it was just happy to speak to me. "We are your friend. We want to make you happy, to give you everything you''ve ever wanted. We are the ones who care about you more than anyone ever did or could. We want to serve you, to worship you. All we ask is that you look at us."


    I laughed darkly. "Yeah, and have me turn to ash just like the rest of the town? Admit it, you want to feed off me! Just like you did everyone else!"


    Surprisingly, the voice sounded almost...sad. "We must feed, yes. That is our nature, just as it is yours. But we do not take without offering something in return. Before your final moment, you will be frozen in an eternity of bliss. We will live countless lifetimes together. Throughout them, you will know no pain or sorrow. You will never be alone. We will be there with you, always and forever, as your friend, your guide, and, if you wish, your lover..." At that last word, I sensed a hand reach through the window and felt a single finger caress my neck. A part of me wanted to look. It screamed at me to look. But I resisted.


    Instead, I started to laugh. I laughed for a while until my throat was sore, and I was desperately trying to catch my breath. Once it stopped, the room was filled with nothing but silence. Finally, I spoke again. "And what if I refuse. What if, instead, I walk downstairs and slit my throat. What will you do then?"


    The voice sounded disappointed, almost sad. "We will go hungry, and you will die alone and in pain."


    I shook my head. "I think I''ve had enough of this tonight. Just leave, okay?"


    This time, the voice sounded pleasant again, friendly even. "As you wish, but we will return to speak again. Good night, our beloved."


    Then I was alone. After a while, I gave into despair and looked up and out the window, but they''d been true to their word and left.


    I don''t know why they gave me this option and no one else. Maybe they''re just savoring their dessert after a feast, or maybe I''m more like an after-dinner mint. But whatever it was, they honored their word and returned the next night, and the next, and so on. We''ve talked many times. I even look forward to speaking with them now. Sometimes, we laugh and joke like old friends. Other times, they patiently listen to me cry and rage, but they never complain. I''m pretty sure I''ve got something like Stockholm Syndrome at this point.


    Anyway, I decided to sit down and write this out. I don''t know. Maybe someone will read this and do something with it. Or maybe not. Maybe you''re all already dead, and I''m the last person on earth. I don''t know, but I feel I''m losing my will to fight. Maybe I''ll look tonight and see what all the fuss is about...


    I hear them tapping at my window, so I''ll just post this and go. Don''t worry about me. Whatever happens, I''m sure I won''t be alone...ever again.

 My girlfriend never eats... (Light horror)

    My girlfriend is a perfect ten, no doubt about it. She''s intelligent, witty, lights up a room, and is more than just easy on the eyes. But every Persian rug has its flaws; hers is that she never eats. Let me start at the beginning.


    I can''t say our meeting was particularly funny or quirky. It doesn''t even make that good a story. We met at a bar. I''m not exactly the outgoing type, so I can''t even claim I won her over with a clever pick-up line or anything like that. She just sat beside me, smiled, and asked, "Hey, you wanna buy me a drink?"


    Now I was pretty sure she was just looking for a free drink, but damn if that smile didn''t seem worth a few bucks to keep around a little longer, so I agreed. As the night went on, things got a bit fuzzy as I knocked a few back. I remember we joked and laughed far longer than most of my conversations last, and at some point, I even got her name (Wendy) and number, but looking back, there was one odd part to the whole night. She never ordered another drink after that first one, and when we left, her glass was still full. I don''t think she actually drank a single drop that night.


    Well, anyway, fast forward a bit, and after a bit of back-and-forth texting, I got up the nerve to ask her out on a date. Despite all our texting, I was more than a little surprised when she said yes. Again, it wasn''t anything special, we were just going to have dinner and watch a movie, but when we met up she explained that she''d already eaten, something to do with an old friend coming to town, but she told me I could buy her a drink while I ate. Again, looking back, I don''t remember her having a single drink. Though at one point, she must have. When I returned from using the restroom, her glass was half empty. After that, we went to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show (It was a temporary run for Halloween) and generally had a great night.


    Things went on like that for a while. We''d make plans, but she''d always have an excuse not to eat anything. Sometimes, she''d forgotten and already ate. Other times, she was trying out a new diet. But whatever it was, we never really had dinner together.


    As time went on, we''d meet up for something in town, drinks, movies, etc, and always ended up at my place after because it was closer. You see, Wendy lived way outside town, "out in the boondocks," she always said. At one point, I asked why she lived out there, but she said she enjoyed the solitude, adding that the forest at night was a thing of beauty. I told her she was a thing of beauty. She laughed it off and made me forget about my questions for a bit. But after that, I kept asking about it, wondering when I could go check out this place that kept her so entranced that she didn''t want to move to town. Finally, one night, she gave in to my pestering and invited me to visit her place.


    She was far enough out that she didn''t really have any neighbors, and if you weren''t careful, you''d easily miss her driveway as it looked more like a forest trail at a glance.


    When I first saw the place, I thought it looked more like a log cabin than a home, but she had power and a satellite dish, so we could still watch TV cuddled up on her couch together. Without going into too much detail, we had a pleasant evening, and I ended up staying over.


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    Things got a little weird when I woke up in the middle of the night alone in the bed. I got up and used the restroom, only to find she hadn''t returned when I got back. That''s when I started hearing the sounds.


    Outside the house, I could hear something...large moving. It was grunting and growling as if it was dragging something. A moment later, I heard wet tearing sounds as it seemed to be scarfing down something, a lot of something. It was more than a little unnerving. I was thinking about making a break for my car when it got quiet. A moment later, I heard the front door open and close. Wondering if it was Wendy...or something else, I decided to check it out.


    Sure enough, Wendy stood just inside the door, but the odd thing was she was stark naked. I was slightly concerned, but when I asked what happened, she just shrugged and said. "There was a bear outside digging in the trash, so I chased him off with this." She held up a can of bear spray.


    It almost made sense. Not that I''d be willing to go confront a bear in the middle of the night, but then again, I was a "city boy" who didn''t know any better, so maybe "country folk" (her words, not mine) just treat bears like oversized raccoons. However, there was still one glaring question that I had to ask. "But why did you go out there naked?"


    She looked down at herself and laughed. "Well, I suppose I don''t worry about clothes out here all that often. I don''t get many guests, and there aren''t any neighbors. I guess I just forgot!"


    That was more than a little odd, but everyone has their quirks, and it wasn''t worth starting a fight in the middle of the night. I just decided to shrug and leave it be.


    The next morning, I woke up to the smell of breakfast. I figured this was it. I was finally going to see Wendy eat something! Just as I got up, Wendy walked into the room, carrying a tray with two eggs, some toast, and orange juice, but it only looked like one serving. When I asked her if we were sharing, she laughed and said, "Oh, I already ate earlier!"


    I have to admit, the food was good, but I was somewhat frustrated. Why did she never eat in front of me? I was just about to ask this question when she excused herself to use the bathroom. Realizing this was my chance, I snuck over to the fridge to look inside. Inside the refrigerator was one egg carton, missing precisely two eggs, one container of orange juice, missing just about one glass worth of juice, a loaf of bread, missing two slices of bread, and some butter, which looked like it was missing just a few scrapes. There was nothing else, not even a condiment. The only food missing was easily accounted for by my breakfast.


    When I heard her finishing up, I snuck back into the bedroom and pretended to be just finishing breakfast. The rest of the day went pretty normal, and I headed home in the early afternoon. However, as I was leaving, I noticed the bear spray she''d left by the front door still had the little plastic security tag in place, meaning it had never been used.


    After I got home, I decided to do a little digging. It turns out that around where Wendy lives, there have been reports of several missing hikers and campers. The most recent was a family that disappeared the same night I stayed over. Combined with the fact that she never eats... Well, let''s just say I''m starting to get concerned. She''s never shown any aggression or hostility to me, but next week, we were planning on going camping together, and I''m beginning to wonder if it''s not such a great idea...</a>

 My girlfriend took me camping. (Light Horror, Some Gore)

    I just want to start by saying that dating is hard. Once you get past all the bots, ads, and scammers and meet a real person, the guessing game begins. Why is this person actually available right now? Are they really just down on their luck, or is it something else that you''re happier not knowing? Then, once you figure out their deep dark secrets, the question becomes, are they willing to put up with your deep dark secrets? This process can take weeks to sort out, usually resulting in a dead end somewhere, forcing you to start over. The whole thing is frustrating, demeaning, and humiliating enough that you''re physically and emotionally exhausted, making you just want to give up and be a loner.


    Now I know what you''re wondering. "What''s this got to do with anything?" Well, it''s kinda simple. A little bit ago, I wrote about how my girlfriend, Wendy, never eats and that I heard some...unsettling things at her house the last time I visited. Well, I decided to keep seeing Wendy. Sure, she might have some...unusual habits, but she makes me feel good about myself, and I''m happy with her. So what if she never eats or chases off bears while nude in the middle of the night? Compared to returning to the dating scene, that''s really not so bad. We even have nicknames for each other now: Country Girl and City Boy. I''ll let you guess which is which. Anyway, that''s a rather long and roundabout way of saying that, yeah, I went on that camping trip with her, and things didn''t go quite how I expected.


    First off, I wanna say that she was right. The forest really is beautiful. The sun''s heat, combined with the coolness of the shade, while listening to the insects drone lazily in the background, seems to slow time to a crawl, making each breath a relaxing experience in and of itself. It''s entirely unlike anything you''ll experience during your morning commute. Combine all that with the right company, and soon you''ll wonder why you''d ever return. And let me tell you, Wendy is one hundred percent the right company.


    Wendy was quick with tips to make the hike easier, from how to properly distribute your pack load to how to lace your shoes for maximum comfort. During the trek to where we were going to set up camp, she alternated between offering interesting bits of information about the local flora and fauna and walking in silence, allowing me to get lost in the experience.


    The whole affair made me want to give up the city life and move to the country. There was just one thing during the walk that wasn''t as pleasant as everything else. At one point, we must have walked too close to a skunk or a rotting carcass or something because the whole area around us started to reak. At first, it wasn''t so bad, but eventually, it got so strong it made me want to gag. I jokingly mentioned it to Wendy, but she just looked ahead like she was determined and told me, "Pick up the pace. We''ll be past it soon enough." Sure enough, we eventually got past the smell, and things quickly became pleasant again.


    The rest of the hike passed without incident, and Wendy even helped me set up the tent. Her evident experience in the matter showed through because it took no time. Soon enough, everything was ready, and we even had a nice, cheerful fire roaring.


    This time, when she pulled out the supplies for dinner, I didn''t even bat an eye when it was clearly only enough for one. Whatever was going on with her, this was just the way it was going to be. It was up to me to accept that or move on, and I''d made my call. But I have to say, for someone who never seems to eat, she sure knows how to sear a steak to perfection! After a pleasant evening and an even more pleasant night, we passed out in the tent together while listening to the crickets and the more distant owls. But of course, if that''s all that happened, I wouldn''t be writing about it here.


    Sometime during the night, I awoke to find I was alone in the tent. This wasn''t too unexpected because Wendy was both an outdoor enthusiast and a bit of a night owl. I debated calling out to her, but something in the air felt like I shouldn''t disturb it with such an out-of-place sound. However, Mother Nature did have her demands, and it was time to answer her call.


    As I unzipped the tent and stepped out, I couldn''t help but look up into the night sky. The stars were breathtaking. You never see this many this vibrant in the city. However, their beauty couldn''t distract me for long in the face of more...urgent demands.


    Do you know that feeling when you''ve been holding it in a little too long and finally experience relief? If it weren''t for my experiences earlier that night, I might be tempted to claim it is better than sex, but we''ll just say it was still pretty euphoric. Maybe it distracted me from the fact that all the usual night sounds had suddenly gone quiet, but it couldn''t distract me from the sudden smell of rotting flesh. It was even stronger than it had been on the trail and was accompanied by the kind of fear that you usually feel when you''re very young and just starting to wonder if there might be reasons sounds go bump in the night. I gagged as I struggled to cut off the stream, zip up my pants, and retreat into the tent again.


    Once in the tent, I reached for the flashlight, then hesitated. I desperately wanted to see better, but something in the back of my mind told me it was better to remain hidden. Of course, I don''t know how well-hidden a blue tent in the middle of the forest can be, but turning on a flashlight would be like activating a beacon for everything within a few miles to see. I sat in the dark for I don''t know how long, feeling my heart pound through my chest loud enough that I was sure whatever was out there could hear it clearly. Thankfully, the smell eventually faded, but I was still so high on adrenaline that I knew I wouldn''t sleep another wink for the rest of the night. Or so I thought.


    The following day, I awoke with Wendy cuddled in my arm, with one of her legs and arms draped over me, and once again, she was totally nude. Now, I was pretty sure she''d put on some pajamas before going to bed, but as she stirred and I got a good look at what was on display, I suddenly didn''t care all that much.


    Eventually, she smiled lazily up at me and spoke. "You sleep alright, City Boy? You seemed to have some pretty rough dreams in the middle of the night..." At the time, those words made perfect sense. In the light of day, it seemed pretty clear that whatever happened last night was probably just a vivid dream brought on by the experiences of the day before and an unfamiliar environment.


    After a bit more time together, we decided to get up and tackle another day in the forest. However, when I finally crawled out of the tent, I could see our entire camp was in disarray. It was like something had gone through and tossed everything around. A few of the more delicate items were totally demolished. After a moment, I called out. "Ummm, hey... You might wanna take a look at this..."


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    As Wendy crawled out of the tent, she made a face. "Must have been a bear. They usually don''t come out this way, so I wasn''t too worried about them. I guess that''s on me, sorry."


    A bear, that kind of made sense. At least, I told myself so. As we were cleaning up, I even saw tracks, though, in my inexperience as a city boy, I would have said they belonged to a dog, not a bear. A huge dog. Maybe a wolf? What was even odder was when I found what looked like hoof prints. Looking at the prints, I realized that deer must be much bigger than they look on TV since they were more than twice as long as my hand.


    There isn''t much more to say about the day. We fixed the place up, had breakfast, went on a hike, made dinner, and called it a night, with a few other minor activities sprinkled throughout. I was back to enjoying the trip, so much so that I had mostly forgotten about the night before.


    But that night is when things took a bit of an unexpected turn. Once again, I awoke in the middle of the night. Thankfully, I wasn''t alone this time, as Wendy was still asleep, half on top of me again. However, that stench was back and stronger than ever.


    It was amazing how bright it seemed in the tent. It must have been a full moon, or at least nearly full, because I could clearly see the shadow of a large deer pass between us and the night sky. But there was something wrong with this deer. It was clearly too tall, as if it was standing on hind legs, and when it opened its mouth, I could even make out a mouthful of very sharp teeth.


    I couldn''t help it. I felt myself breathing more heavily by the second as my heart rate skyrocketed. My mind went blank when I suddenly felt Wendy stir. Remembering the presence of my considerably smaller girlfriend, I suddenly felt protective, as if I couldn''t let anything happen to her. I was just about to tell her to be quiet when I noticed her looking up at me with a finger on her lips as if telling me to do the same. Then she whispered to me, "Stay in the tent!" and started to get up.


    I don''t know what I was thinking or if I was thinking. All I knew was I couldn''t let Wendy go out to face whatever that was, so I reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could exit the tent. However, when she looked back at me, I released her immediately, almost as scared of her as whatever was outside the tent. Her eyes reflected light back at me like a cat''s, and I could see the nails on her hand growing as I watched.


    In half a moment, she turned back around, opened the tent, and climbed outside. I will never forget the sound I heard at that moment. After I got home, I looked up the calls of a bunch of wild animals, and in hindsight, I''d say it was like a compilation of an elk call, a rabbit''s scream, and a mountain lion scream, but impossibly loud. Wendy shouted in answer, her tiny human voice sounding so frail in comparison. At least it did until it started to change, morphing and twisting into the howl of an impossibly large wolf. I couldn''t help it. I peeked out the tent flap, and standing in front of the tent was what I could only describe as a werewolf.


    The little five-foot-and-change Wendy was now standing at least seven feet tall, covered in fur with claws and fangs that looked like they could tear through steel, and she looked ready for murder. Then, some movement on the opposite end of our camp drew my attention, and I witnessed a living nightmare that suddenly made a werewolf seem like less of a problem.


    It looked kind of like a deer if a deer had more articulated limbs far too long for its body. The feet ended in hooves, but the hands ended in long bony claws. The whole thing looked desiccated, its skin drawn so tight over its ribs and arms you could make out the skeleton beneath. The fur was spotty and looked partially rotted, with open holes leaking bodily fluids that should never see light. Its teeth were long and serrated, clearly meant for tearing rather than chewing. I sometimes hear hunters talking about deer being eight or ten points, but if I had to estimate, this thing had a thirty-point antler, with many of the tines covered in what I suspected to be dried viscera from previous victims.


    The two monsters charged each other. The nightmare, which I now know was a wendigo, lowered its head, intending to impale its opponent, but at the last second, Wendy threw herself nearly flat on the ground, only to rocket up into the wendigo, latching onto its long neck with her powerful jaws while her hind feet kicked gouges into its vulnerable stomach.


    However, the wendigo didn''t seem willing to give up that easily and tossed Wendy aside. She hit the ground hard and was soon set upon by the other monster. She raised an arm to defend herself, only for the wendigo to latch on with its own teeth, easily tearing through her skin and muscles.


    With a powerful kick, Wendy pushed the nightmare back, then started swiping at him over and over, making it loose ground. However, lowing its head, the wendigo charged forward again, and this time, Wendy wasn''t fast enough as the wendigo caught her on his antlers and flipped her over his back, with new blood darkening the tips of the tines. But that was its downfall as Wendy sprung up and again latched onto its neck with her teeth, this time from behind.


    The nightmare struggled in vain, occasionally raking Wendy with his claws, but she refused to let go and began ripping and tearing her way through its neck until she grabbed hold of its antlers, and with one final jerk, the head came free.


    I don''t have the heart to describe what came next, but let''s just say the sound of flesh being torn and eaten is much more distinct through the thin membrane of a tent than a closed cabin window.


    Time passed. At least an hour, maybe two or three. It''s hard to say for sure. I don''t know what I expected to happen next; maybe I was going to be next, or perhaps I''d wake up from this nightmare, but eventually, the adrenaline passed, my eyes grew heavy, and I fell asleep again.


    When I awoke in the morning, I was alone this time. There was no sign Wendy had come back. I''d half hoped she''d still be here, telling me I''d had another nightmare, but I don''t think I would have believed it again.


    It was kind of sad and lonely packing up our things by myself. I debated bringing Wendy''s stuff with me, but I''m not that good of a hiker and wasn''t confident I could pull it off, so I just left her things in her pack inside the tent.


    When I exited the tent, I was more than a little surprised to see Wendy sitting calmly by the fire pit with no wounds in sight. She smiled sadly. "So, I guess I owe you an explanation."


    I remember hesitating, my mind blank, before I settled on the thought I had earlier. "What, you''re not going to try and convince me it was a nightmare again?"


    She looked around at all the destruction in the campsite. Earth was kicked up, trees had claw marks gouged out, and there were signs of blood splatter everywhere. "I didn''t think I could convince you this time..."


    I nodded as I looked around. "Yeah, I guess not..." Then, I looked back at her. "You know, for a bit there, I was starting to think you were the monster eating people out here!"


    Wendy pointed at herself, then laughed. "Wait, me? Wendy the wendigo? Don''t you think that''s a little too on the nose?"


    I couldn''t help it. As weird and messed up as everything was, as disturbing as everything I learned was, this was the Wendy I knew and cared for. So, I laughed with her, "Yeah... maybe so..."


    Long story short, we''re still together. Sure, my girlfriend might be a seven-foot-tall monster that eats other monsters for fun, but everyone has their quirks. Besides, dating sucks, and I''m happy where I am...

 Passing on the curse (Light Horror, Wholesome)

    In this world, there are many cursed items tied to the spirits of those who suffered. If you come into possession of one, the spirit will haunt you until you die...or until you pass it on to someone else.


    But there''s some good news. You can''t just slip the item into someone''s pocket. They have to accept it willingly. That''s why people try to pass things off in the weirdest ways. Someone handing you a button along with their change? Don''t accept it. It might be cursed. Be careful about gifts with "sentimental value." Avoid garage and yard sales like the plague. But whatever you do, if you do get a cursed item, don''t be like some assholes and hand them over to little children!


    You see, kids are great like that. If they''re young enough, they trust everyone and everything. You hand a kid something, anything really, and they''ll happily accept with a big grin. Best I can tell, that''s what happened to me. You see, she''s been around as long as I can remember. I call her Mrs. Noface.


    Some of my earliest memories were looking up in my bed to see her hovering there. At the time, I didn''t understand that people were supposed to have faces or what blood and gore were. I just knew that Mrs. Noface was always there for me and always would be.


    My parents weren''t around all that much. Well, my dad never was. As far as I can tell, he ran off before I was born, but my mom... Well, let''s just say I''m sure my mom was doing her best. You see, she never wanted a kid, as she was quick to tell me at almost any opportunity, but at least she made sure I was fed, clothed, had a bed to sleep in, and even got a present every Christmas, so I was luckier than many.


    When mom was at work late at night, I could watch TV, but whenever she had her guy friends over, I had to go to my room. When I was five, there wasn''t much in my room. There were a couple picture books from my first few years, an old brass button I''d always had, and my new set of crayons from the most recent Christmas. That''s how my mom first learned about Mrs. Noface. You see, I drew one of the first things any kids draw, a family picture.


    It was a crude picture like you''d expect. Stick figures in clothes, with the only features being simplistically drawn faces. But where mom was in a nice dress, and I was in my pajamas, Mrs. Noface had on her bloody white gown, and where her face was supposed to be, I drew a black void with crimson around the edges where it looked like her face had been torn away.


    I don''t remember the exact conversation that followed when she saw the picture, but I do remember her asking about the picture and reacting rather strongly when I told her about Mrs. Noface.


    Not long after that, I met the doctor. The doctor was one of my mom''s guy friends, but she told him she''d "cut him a deal on the price if you talk to my kid about her weird-ass drawings."


    The doctor never told me his name. He said officially he was never here, but he did like talking about my drawings and Mrs. Noface. He told my mom that at my age, having an imaginary friend was normal, and I probably just got her from something I saw on TV late at night but didn''t understand.


    However, my "imaginary friend" never went away. Eventually, I started going to school, and I learned very quickly that my mom wasn''t the only one bothered by drawings of Mrs. Noface, so finally, I stopped drawing her or speaking with her in public. That seemed to be enough to appease the teachers, but most of the kids still avoided me. They called me weird and spooky. Maybe that''s because I was obsessed with ghosts and monsters, or maybe it was because mysterious things happened around me. At least, according to them.


    I still remember the time Rick hit me. I''d never really seen Mrs. Noface interact with anyone else, but she picked him up and tossed him a few feet away. He wasn''t hurt, but he sure was scared, and so were the other kids who saw! I got put in detention for that one. Also, whenever people played tricks on me, it always seemed to backfire. There was the time Alex propped a bunch of dirty erasers above the door so they''d fall down on me when I walked through, only for Mrs. Noface to grab them before they fell and then throw them back at him one at a time.


    As we got older, the pranks got crueler, but Mrs. Noface was always there to protect me. When kids threw stones, she''d throw them back. Cruel letters always seemed to find their way back to the students who wrote them. Everywhere I went, kids would whisper to each other, calling me "Witch" or "Monster." But I didn''t mind all that much. I was used to being alone, with only Mrs. Noface to keep me company.


    At some point, I figured out people found entities like Mrs. Noface scary. Not everyone thought horror movies were secretly comedies like I did, but I couldn''t imagine monsters actually hurting people! After all, Mrs. Noface never actually hurt anyone, well, not seriously, anyway.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    As years passed, everyone got older, rocks stopped getting thrown, and people just started ignoring me. Slowly, Mrs. Noface seemed to appear to me less and less as well. By the time I graduated and got a job, I''d go days or weeks without seeing her around, though she still often showed up behind me in mirrors, which always made me smile.


    By this point, I was starting to have a relatively normal life, at least by most people''s standards. I worked a nine-to-five that I hated just little enough not to quit, got my own apartment, and even went on the occasional date, few of which ever went anywhere. I lost contact with my mom. I''m grateful she didn''t just abandon me as a kid, but we''d never really been a family, and once I could take care of myself, there just wasn''t a connection there. I remember swearing that if I ever had a kid, I wouldn''t just let them go. We''d be a happy family, like the one I never had! Then, late one night, when I was walking home, everything changed.


    It started when I heard footsteps behind me. I didn''t think much about it at first. It wasn''t common to run into other people walking around the neighborhood this time of night, but it wasn''t unheard of either. But the footsteps kept getting closer and closer as if something was chasing me. I picked up my pace, but so did they. I broke into a run, and so did they. I was trying to think of if there was anywhere public and open this time of night when I rounded a corner and saw two monsters waiting for me.


    One of them had a half-melted face; much of his skin was missing, and his left eye was hanging by a strand. Next to him stood a clown, but his face was distorted, his mouth was too big, his teeth were too long, and his eyes looked like they were bulging out of his head. I turned and tried to run across the street but got tackled from behind.


    Looking up from the ground, I could see a werewolf crouching over me, laughing as it brandished...a knife? When he spoke, his mouth didn''t move. "Hey, empty out your pockets right now! And I wouldn''t scream if you know what''s good for you!"


    I nodded silently and dug through my pockets, dumping everything on the ground. My wallet, phone, even my pocket change. The wolfman scooped it all up, laughing and calling me a "good mark."


    But then the wolfman froze. He lifted his knife up and started shouting. "Hey, you! Do you want to die? Get out of here, now!"


    I didn''t see who he was talking to, and based on the way the other two were looking around, they didn''t either. Finally, the clown spoke up. "Hey man, you messing with us? Now''s not the time. Let''s just take the stuff and run!"


    But the wolfman''s hand started to shake, and his voice sounded afraid. "I''m warning you! Get the hell away from us, now, or else!"


    Finally, the half-burned man reached up and tore off his Halloween mask, looking around before turning back to his accomplice. "Are you trippin''? There''s no one there! Get your shit together, and let''s go!"


    By now, the wolfman had fallen back and was looking up, pointing a shaking knife at thin air as his voice reached a panicked pitch. "I''m warning you! Get away! Leave me alone!" He started swiping at the air, and that was when something odd happened. The wolfman''s hand froze, then he raised it straight up. Then, after a moment, he started hovering as if being picked up by his hand. When his mask flew off, it was clear he was sobbing. "Please! Just let me go! Please!"


    By now, his two friends were grabbing onto him as if trying to pull him down, but then they were both thrown bodily aside as if pushed by some invisible force, and he started screaming incoherently, as if in great pain. A moment later, his face was torn clean off, and he dropped to the ground, lifeless. The other two muggers ran away screaming.


    I was about to run too, but there on the ground was all my stuff. Thinking that leaving my ID or phone sitting next to a crime scene like this was probably a mistake, I gathered it all up, pocketing it all, but then stopped when I saw something I hadn''t thought much about in a long time.


    There, among the loose change, was an old beat-up brass button. I''d had it for as long as I can remember and always thought of it as good luck. I reached down slowly and grabbed hold of it. As soon as it was in my hands, I could see Mrs. Noface hovering over the body of my would-be attacker.


    Years have gone by since then. For a while, Mrs. Noface was a significant presence in my life again. I spoke with her daily and swore to myself I would never neglect her, and then I met my partner.


    It wasn''t a particularly noteworthy meeting. We worked together, and eventually, he asked me if I wanted to get coffee. Coffee became drinks, drinks became dinners, and before I knew it, we were going steady. At first, Mrs. Noface hovered around him constantly. I was almost afraid she''d attack him like the mugger. But over time, she slowly backed away, giving us more space. Eventually, she stopped showing up on our dates altogether.


    After we got married, she slowly stopped hanging around again. Nowadays, I only see her in the mirrors behind me. But even when she''s not around, I know she''s watching and protecting me. I''ve realized that, in many ways, she was the mother I never really had. Aside from my husband and now my daughter, Isabell, she means more to me than anyone...which is why it''s so hard to say goodbye.


    I know she won''t be gone, not really, but I''ll never see her again. I''m fighting back tears as I write this. When I look into the blackness of the computer screen, I can see her there, hovering behind me. I wonder if she understands what I''m about to do? I wonder if it will make her happy or sad? I hope she understands how much she''s meant to me and why I must do what I''m about to do. You see, during my pregnancy, I got sick, really sick, and I couldn''t treat it because it would kill my precious Isabelle.


    Now it''s too late. I have to break that promise to myself about never abandoning my child. Even Mrs. Noface can''t protect me this time. So all I can do is leave Isabel, my beloved daughter, the most precious gift I''ve ever been given: an old brass button.

 The Baker and The Thief (Fantasy, Wholesome)

    The streets were busy, meaning this was the perfect time to strike. Amon leaned over to the smaller kid next to him. "Now see, how the baker, Guss, has his tables fully loaded and is shouting out at everyone? This is the time to strike. Just watch for the signal, and remember, once we get moving, try and keep up. You mess up once, and it''s all over!"


    The poor kid was white as a sheet and looked ready to bolt and run at any moment. Maybe Amon had oversold the danger... After all, this baker had to be the slowest, most stupid baker on the face of the earth. He was a natural-born sucker. However, it was too late to say anything now. Eric was making his move.


    Eric walked up, all nonchalant as he examined the bread. Too nonchalant. It was obvious he was planning something, and even the baker seemed to see it.


    The oversized man waved a finger, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Hey, you! Yeah, you kid! Don''t get any funny ideas! I''ve got my eye on you!"


    Eric held up his hands, so it was clear he wasn''t doing anything as he stammered an excuse. Of course, Amon didn''t get to hear what Eric would say this time because that was the signal.


    Amon lept out and grabbed three loaves of bread, then turned and started running for the ally. It didn''t take the baker long to figure out what was happening. "Hey, you little thief! You can''t get away from me! I''m gonna catch you this time!"


    This was the tricky part. If Amon or the kid were too slow, the baker would see where the hole in the fence was. Thankfully, the kid had listened well and was a few paces ahead of Amon. The kid dove headfirst through the hole, followed closely by Amon, who slid in after. Jewel, who''d been waiting, dropped the plank over the hole just in time. A moment later, they could hear the baker shouting as he rounded the corner. "Get back here, you little rats! You won''t get away forever! Sooner or later, I''m gonna catch you!"


    Amon and the kid sat there catching their breath as the baker ranted a bit longer, stifling their laughter. This guy was never going to catch them. He was too slow and too stupid. It was almost too easy!


    After the baker left, Amon broke up the loaves and passed the bread around to everyone. Eric, who was coming in through the back, grinned as he got his cut. "Man, I can''t believe he never learns!"


    Amon shook his head. "Eh, don''t be too hard on the guy. We''re just that good! He never stood a chance!"


    Everyone was laughing. Everyone was, except Will, the new kid. Not sure what was bothering him, Amon poked him in the side. "What''s wrong, Will? Eat your bread! You earned it!"


    Will looked at his food half-heartedly, then turned to Amon. "Do you have to go? I don''t know if we can pull this off without you..."


    Amon grinned and messed up Will''s hair. "You''ll be fine! I was just as scared when it was my turn to be the runner, but that baker is so slow he''s never caught me, and he''ll never catch you. Besides, this place is too small for the likes of me! I gotta go out there and make my fortunes. One day, you''ll hear tales about the master thief Amon, and you''ll be able to say you knew that guy!"


    Eric snorted. "If people are hearing about your name as a master thief, it means you did a rotten job! Besides, with your smelly feet, they''ll track you down in no time!"


    The kids laughed, and Amon laughed with them. Nothing could spoil his mood. He''d been waiting for this day for a long time. No one could stop him now!


    -


    When most thieves sneak into a town, they try to blend into shadows or hide their faces. But when a master thief does so, he does it in broad daylight with a smile on his lips and his coin at his hip. There is no reason to suspect a successful merchant, especially one who might spend some much-needed coin in your village. The guards even called him "m''lord" as they checked his paperwork. Paperwork he''d forged himself just a couple of nights ago. Of course, he''d weathered it to make it look well used. Nothing was more suspicious than brand-new paperwork, after all.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    As Amon walked down an old, familiar street, he smiled. For once, he wasn''t looking around for a mark. He was just taking in the sights. After all, this was where it had all started, stealing bread on the streets of this sleepy little town. At first, life in the big cities had been more challenging than he''d thought. Not many of his small-town tricks had worked on the hardened people in the cities, but eventually, he''d done it; he''d become that master thief he''d always bragged he''d be.


    Not long ago, Amon pulled the biggest heist of his career, taking everything out from under the feet of a fat baron who''d stolen more out of the pockets of his serfs than even Amon could walk away with. Now that the baron was in the king''s custody... Some mysterious informant had leaked documents detailing all the profits he''d been skimming from the royal treasury. Of course, that informant had done his best to weigh down his own pockets first and now needed a place to lay low for a while, and this sleepy little town seemed just about perfect.


    As he walked down the street, Amon was amazed at how little had changed. There was the old carpentry shop, the butcher, and even a little old lady selling flowers, a little older now than Amon remembered, but he still bought one with a smile and a wink. The little lady bowed and thanked him as he walked on his way when suddenly he saw him, Gus, the baker, still hawking his wares.


    Amon decided that this time, he''d actually pay for a taste of that bread, but before he could, he saw a kid walk out, acting nonchalant while obviously trying to draw attention to himself. Nearby crouched another kid, obviously waiting for the signal. Had Amon ever been so obvious? He shook his head. These kids were pushing their luck, even with old Gus. Amon positioned himself to get a good view of the show...and to step in if things went south.


    However, apparently, luck was on their side because Gus took the bait and shouted at the first kid. "Hey, you! Yeah, you kid! Don''t get any funny ideas! I''ve got my eye on you!"


    The second kid ran out and grabbed the bread, but he was way too clumsy and obvious. There was no way he''d get away in time! However, the years had taken their time on old Gus because he was even slower chasing the kids than he used to be, and the kids got around the corner in time. Sure enough, they dove through that same hole in the fence, but they did so too clumsily. The fence was shaking, and they dropped the plank too late. Gus had seen everything.


    As Gus walked up to the fence, he was eyeing the hole. It was clear these kids were out of luck. Or at least they would be if Amon wasn''t here. The thief got ready to knock the old baker out. He wouldn''t be too hard on the guy. It''s not like Gus was some robber baron or anything, but these kids deserved a chance to learn from their mistakes.


    However, just as Amon was getting into position, Guss, who was looking at the hole while shaking his head, started shouting. "Get back here, you little rats! You won''t get away forever! Sooner or later, I''m gonna catch you!"


    Gus''s delivery was awful and wouldn''t fool anyone who saw him. He knew exactly where those kids had gone, and even if he didn''t, the sound of kids laughing on the other side of the fence gave it away. But rather than make any more of a scene out of it, old Gus just started ambling back to his stall with a massive grin, like he was in on some great joke.


    -


    Gus walked back to his shop with a smile on his lips and a spring in his step. Those kids always brightened his day. Some villagers said he shouldn''t let them get away with things like that, but Gus just shook his head. He knew better. And if someone pushed the issue, he just pointed to Will, the woodcutter, or Eric, the innkeeper, and followed up with the same old phrase, "Hungry kids can grow into responsible adults if you give them a chance!"


    This batch was slightly less subtle than some others had been, but that was fine. It probably meant they''d be all the more honest when the time came. They just needed a chance, that''s all. Thinking back, only one group ever stuck out in his mind. One kid had been quick enough and smooth enough to slip past Gus legitimately a time or two. Unfortunately, that kid had just disappeared one day, and Gus never knew what had happened to him.


    As Gus sat down to continue selling what was left, he paused. A leather pouch was sitting where the "stolen" bread had been. Gus looked around to see if anyone had left it, but no one seemed interested. Figuring maybe someone had left payment while playing his game with the kids, Gus opened the pouch, only to have a small pile of gold coins fall out. That was more than he''d make in a year!


    Now Gus was really worried. Someone had obviously made a mistake! He looked around in the crowd, but still, no one caught his eye. Then he noticed there was a small piece of paper in the pouch. Wondering if it might offer some clue as to who this belonged to, Gus fished it out. There was only one sentence on the scrap of paper. "Backpay for a childhood of fun and bread."

 Return to the the impossible haunted house (Horror)

    Some of you may remember my story about the impossible haunted house from last year, but for those who don''t, let me repeat my warning. If you ever come across a haunted house that shouldn''t be there, don''t go inside. This haunted house pops up between two other houses you already know. It won''t be squeezed in like someone built a new house in the middle of the two plots, but rather, it''ll fit in like the whole area was designed that way. It''ll be as if the street had always been a few hundred feet longer than you remember. If such a house appears out of nowhere, do not approach it, do not knock on the door, and whatever you do, do not cross the threshold. Once you do, your fate is sealed.


    My brother and I made the mistake of walking inside, and now, every year, we are expected to return and run through the death traps and monsters to earn our freedom for another year. If we do not, the house will come for us, and we will pay a much higher price.


    Unlike many haunted places, this house only has three simple rules. The first is that the Wolfman is in the basement. The Wolfman is the most dangerous obstacle within the house. He''s immortal, insanely fast, and impossibly strong. Once he finds you, your only hope is to run and reach the top of the basement stairs before he grabs you.


    The second rule is that to escape the house, you must first find its heart. It is a heart in a very literal sense, looking exactly like a human heart, except it''s the size of a large dog. You have to touch it, make it out of the house, and then you''re safe for another year. And before you ask, yes, we''ve tried stabbing it, shooting it, blowing it up, and more, but it always comes back the same every year, except it''s always in a different location.


    The third and final rule is that if Mister Hyde joins the hunt, everyone dies. I don''t know if Mister Hyde owns the house or just gets his kicks hanging out by it, but he is a large man with strange proportions of legs, arms, and head who sits outside, taunting people as they leave. Acknowledge him respectfully, then be on your way as quickly as possible, and hope that today is not your unlucky day. After all, he could always use another meat puppet to perform his ventriloquist act. Trust me, it''s not as fun as it sounds to watch, and yes, I know it doesn''t sound very fun.


    These three rules have held true for dozens of years, except last year, when the Wolfman came out of the basement, looking for my brother and me specifically. Maybe that''s because my brother shot him in the face with his magic finger guns the year before, but I''m getting ahead of myself.


    Oh yeah, in case you don''t remember, the house gives you one advantage to make the game more fun...for itself, that is. It gives you one gift that only works inside the house based on the costume you wore the first year you arrived. My brother was a wizard and now can shoot magic bullets out of his fingers when he points and shouts, "Bang!" I know it sounds ridiculous, but trust me, as stupid as it sounds, now that we''re full-grown men north of thirty, it looks much much more stupid than it sounds.


    Me? Well, the first year I arrived, I was frozen in fear, so the Ringleader, that''s what I call the skeleton with human skin stapled to its frame that works the front door, gave me the title of "coward." I was ashamed of the title as a kid, but now I realize it''s what keeps me alive from one year to the next. You see, I get hunches, and if I''m smart enough to listen to those hunches instead of letting them get drowned out by screams of terror, they lead me through the house and back to safety while giving me hints on where I need to go, and how to deal with whatever obstacles the haunted house has in store.


    That brings us up to last year. Now that almost a whole year has passed, and the house is looming once more in my near future, I think I can bring myself to write about what happened.


    My brother and I met up to run the house together. We don''t talk much outside the house anymore, but whatever problems we have in the real world, in that hell hole, we both know we''ve got each other''s back.


    As we walked up, the zombies we now know are not costumes were dragging body bags that we also know are not props to the graves out front. A cold reminder that no matter how long we''ve survived so far, a messy end was always just an unlucky night away.


    A few kids walked up to the door, smiling and laughing, not knowing that if they crossed that threshold, their futures would forever be tied to this waking nightmare. I gave the nearby parents a cold, hard look. "This place isn''t for kids. If you don''t want to deal with nightmares for the next month or two, you might wanna skip this one." It was an understatement of drastic proportions, but let''s face it, no one would believe me if I told them the truth. Thankfully, most of them took their kids and passed by, muttering as if I was some kind of asshole. Still, at least they left. A few of the more stubborn teens didn''t, and I just shook my head. Maybe a better man than I would have done more to keep anyone from crossing that threshold, but my mind was primarily focused on my own survival at that point.


    I was kind of hoping the Ringleader would be missing after whatever had happened last year, but there he was, his skin hanging loosely from his bony frame. He smiled, showing far too many teeth framed by lips that looked pale and rotten, hanging there as if they''d been stapled to his skull. As usual, his attention was on the newcomers. "And what are you supposed to be?"


    There was a werewolf, a witch, and one kid was even dressed as Deadpool. I figured he''d just get swords, though. Those healing powers might be a bit much. Then again...


    Then, there was one poor girl who''d obviously been dragged along by her friends. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The extent of her costume seemed to be some plastic vampire teeth. When the Ringleader focused his attention on her, she looked up from her phone just long enough to say, "I''m Sam." Then, she returned to her phone as if annoyed by the pervy old man paying too much attention to her.


    If the Ringleader was bothered by her disrespect, he didn''t show it. Instead, he just launched into his explanation. "To get your reward, you must find the heart of the house and return! If you survive, then and only then may you leave! Ready? Go!"


    Just as they were about to leave, I added a quick. "He means it. Find the heart quick and get out, or you''ll regret it."


    Most of them looked at me as if I was some kind of asshole sucking the fun out of their night out. All except Sam. She looked up from her phone with an expression of mild confusion. She looked like she wanted to ask a question, but then her friends ran into the house, so she turned and followed. Immediately, there were screams, but they were intermixed with laughter. The poor fools didn''t know what they were in for. I silently wished them luck anyway.


    Then the Ringleader turned to my brother and me. His grin was replaced by a scowel as if our continued survival was a personal affront to the man. "The wizard and the coward...again. Your luck can only hold out so long."


    I smiled cockily at him. This was the only part of the night I enjoyed, that is to say, rubbing it in his face. "Don''t worry your ugly little head about it. I''m sure you''ll get us eventually. Not tonight! But eventually... Twenty, maybe thirty years down the line..."


    I know, I know, taunting the house is incredibly stupid, but by now, I''ve earned at least a little something after running this place every year for decades and surviving this long. So let me enjoy my little indulgence, alright?


    The first room was always the same. It was filled with slow-moving zombies. They were probably the ones that dragged corpses out front to bury. When we were younger, my brother and I would zoom past them, but these days, he''s got minor arthritis slowing him down, and I just stopped caring, so he did his thing by pointing at their heads and shouting, "Bang!" making them explode in a shower of blood and viscera. I laughed as the first few went down.


    My brother looked over at me, annoyed. "You know, you don''t have to laugh every year."


    I shook my head, still chuckling. "You''re right. I don''t have to. But it''s funny as hell!"


    About then, one of the zombies tried to take a bite out of me, but I kicked him solidly in the midsection, sending him flying into a few of his friends. These things were never a threat. It makes you wonder about all the blood that always plastered their skin and teeth. Who the hell dies to these things?


    However, once we got past the zombies, I took a moment to stop and listen to my gut. It usually gave us a direction to go, but for a moment, it seemed silent. I started to worry that my hunches might have finally failed me, but then my eyes paused at the door to the kitchen, and I realized it hadn''t been silent; I''d just been ignoring it because I didn''t want to go that way. You see, the only way out of the kitchen, besides the door facing us, was the basement.


    Two years ago, my luck had almost run out when the Wolfman jumped me, but my brother shot him through the eye, and we barely got away. Of course, that didn''t kill the Wolfman. You can''t kill the Wolfman, but apparently, you can piss him off because the following year, he actually came out of the basement looking for us, and we almost died again. However, that apparently pissed Mister Hyde off because he got involved, and you remember rule number three, right? Thankfully, we were already outside the house by the time he went on his rampage, but let''s just say there was even more screaming coming out of the house than usual.


    My brother looked at me and noticed where my gaze was resting. "It''s the basement, isn''t it?"


    I swallowed and nodded before offering a hopeful, "Maybe he''s not there this year? You know, after last year..."


    My brother nodded, though he didn''t look convinced as he answered. "Yeah...maybe..." I didn''t believe it either, but it''s not like hopelessly giving up would help us.


    As we walked toward the kitchen, we could hear the rhythmic sounds of something wet being chopped. Turning the corner, we saw a man with a pig''s head slamming a butcher''s knife into a wet, bloody mess on the table. I couldn''t tell if the pig''s head was a mask or real, and I didn''t want to find out.


    After a moment, the pigman stopped and looked up. For a moment, I was afraid it had seen or heard us, but he turned and walked into the pantry. I knew from experience that the pantry was a dead end, but this was our chance to sneak past him. Sure, we might have to deal with him on the way out, but it was a pretty short distance between here and the front door, and we knew from experience that the nightmares in this place couldn''t cross that threshold. Well, except for Mister Hyde, but he''s always the exception.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    We quietly but quickly snuck past the table. I knew I shouldn''t have looked, but curiosity is a cruel mistress, and a brief glance was all I needed to see what was left of the body, which was wearing a red Deadpool costume. I silently hoped I''d been right about him not being immortal because no one would want to live through that. However, in this place, you learn not to linger too long on the fallen, or you''ll join them, so we kept moving. Thankfully, we were able to get into the basement without any further complications, but of course, that only meant the worst was yet to come.


    The basement is a maze of trash. There were pathways through and around piles of old newspapers, broken toys, forgotten cleaning supplies, and more. Everything was piled to the ceiling, preventing you from being able to see anything beyond the narrow path ahead. If you''ve ever seen the show "Hoarders," you might have some idea of what I''m talking about, but every year, the paths change, making this place a nightmare to navigate.


    Through the maze of trash, hunted the Wolfman. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you could hear him snarling and grunting as he moved through the garbage, but other times, he stalked silently, and if he found you, you''d best hope you were near the basement door because otherwise, you were dead.


    There were five paths right from the get-go, which was more than usual. For once, the odds seemed to be in our favor down there. As we slowly crept around the trash, ignoring the scents that accented the smell of cement, musky floorboards, and mildew that permeated the area, the silence struck me. There was no screaming, no sobbing, and no growling. That meant we were wandering blind, and that wasn''t good.


    The first two paths ended in dead ends, and the third led us in a loop all the way back to the stairs, meaning there was only one way forward. Had the house just gotten tired of our luck and decided to end it tonight? Well, it didn''t matter. My gut said, "Go forward." so forward we went.


    It wasn''t long before we heard another familiar sound in this place, a wet tearing sound occasionally punctuated by a loud snapping sound. I let out a relieved breath. The Wolfman must have already found his prey. Maybe we could get in and out before he finished his meal.


    Up ahead, the path split, with one path continuing straight and a second going off to the left at a fight angle. Off to the right, I could hear the sounds of the Wolfman eating, louder than before. I pointed down the straight path, and my brother nodded, and we started moving.


    The path at the juncture was tight. Tight enough that my brother had to go sideways to get through. I''m not the smallest guy in the world, but I sucked in my gut and followed, only to knock a small broken slinky free. I tried to catch it and silence its fall, but it was too late. The sounds of the Wolfman eating stopped, and I heard a low growl behind us.


    The Wolfman was between us and the only exit, and there was no way we could outrun it going forward, so I decided to do something stupid. As the Wolfman rounded the corner, I threw myself at him, curling into a ball as I hit his feet. He tumbled over me, and I shouted at my brother, "Shoot him in the head!"


    I looked up just in time to see my brother standing over the Wolfman, both hands wrapped around each other, giving the appearance of a double-gripped finger gun as he shouted out, "Bang!" Maybe it was the Wolfman''s torn and bloody shirt or the disembodied arm he was still clutching in one hand, but it wasn''t as funny as before.


    I knew that would only slow the Wolfman down, but as I got to my feet, he didn''t move. In fact, looking at the fallen Wolfman, I couldn''t help but notice he wasn''t as intimidating as usual. He was...smaller. And that''s when I realized I recognized the torn and bloody shirt. It had belonged to one of the teens from earlier...the werewolf. My brother must have come to the same realization because as I fought down my lunch, he failed that same battle and turned to retch on the ground behind himself. I''ve never seen one of us, one of the players, or captives, or whatever you want to call us, turn into a monster like this. The rules were changing, and I didn''t like it.


    I looked down the path we had been going, but my gut told me to return and take the turn to where the wolf...kid had been. I got my brother''s attention, and we retraced our steps and rounded the corner.


    Ahead of us was a small clearing in the trash, with a door on the other side. I tried not to look, but just beside the door was the body of a girl wearing a witch''s outfit. Her stomach had been torn open, she was missing an arm, and her makeup was smeared like she''d been crying before the end. I hoped it hadn''t taken too long, but judging by the amount of smeared mascara, that hope was in vain. Shoving down the feeling of horror at the scene, I opened the door, and we entered the boiler room.


    The boiler was one of those large metal jobs covered in an unhealthy amount of rust and stains. I hoped the stains were oil or some other industrial lubricant, but knowing this place, it probably wasn''t. There, where the fire should be burning past an iron grate, was the sickly throbbing heart of the house. I almost didn''t notice the girl sitting in the corner. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, which hid her face as she rocked back and forth, sobbing quietly.


    Now, the smart thing to do was just touch the heart and get out, but I couldn''t leave another kid to die in this place. I walked over to her and held out a hand. "Hey, Sam, was it? You can''t stay here. We have to go."


    Sam looked up at me with uncomprehending eyes. Her mascara was streaked worse than the witch''s, and her eyes were bloodshot as I tried again. "Come on. You can follow us. We''ll try and get you out of here alive."


    The girl shook her head. "No! I can''t go out there! I can''t!"


    By now, I was pretty numbed to the horrors of this place, but something about her small, scared voice got to me. I shook my head and offered one last time. "Listen, I know this place is... well, it''s a fucking nightmare is what it is. But if you stay here, it''ll get you eventually. My brother and I have made it out of here dozens of times. Come with us, and there''s a good chance you will, too."


    Something I said, or maybe it was just my persistence, finally got through to the girl. Sam reached up, took my hand, and I helped her to her feet, but then she winced and limped a little. I realized quickly enough that she must have twisted her ankle. That''s a death warrant in this place. But looking at her, she was small and light enough, so she probably wouldn''t slow me down much. I turned around and offered my back. "Here, climb up. I''ll carry you." She didn''t hesitate this time. She climbed onto my back, and I walked over to the boiler.


    My brother was already by the heart, and I could tell by his bloodied fingertips he''d done his part. So I turned to Sam and explained. "You just have to touch it, then we can leave. Like this." I did as I said and touched the evil, slimy heart of this hell house. Then I leaned over so Sam could do the same. That done, we turned and followed the path back to the stairs, this time without incident.


    At the top of the stairs, I cracked the basement door and peered through. The pigman was back chopping away at the meat pile on the table. I was just thinking that if I kicked the door open, we might surprise him and run past when a disembodied head on the table turned and looked at me. It was the damned Deadpool kid silently mouthing two words I couldn''t help but make out. "Help me!" The pigman noticed where the head''s attention was focused and turned to inspect the door to the basement as Sam started audibly hyperventilating on my back.


    Out of options, I kicked the door into the pigman''s face as planned. He screeched in such a way that told me the head was not a mask, holding the end of his nose where the door had bashed him. I kicked the door into his face again, this time shoving the pigman back in the process. Then, as I stepped out the door, I kicked him directly in the head, knocking him out cold or maybe killing him, I didn''t really care either way.


    Looking at the poor kid''s head lying on the table, severed from his body, I got an idea. Turning to my brother, I nodded toward the head. "Grab that...grab him. Let''s take him outside with us."


    My brother looked from the head and then back to me. "But won''t that kill him?"


    I nodded. "Yeah, it will."


    Sam choked back a sob, and it didn''t take long for my brother to realize what I had. At this point, death was a mercy. With a grim expression, he grabbed the kid''s head, and we started making our way to the exit.


    As we approached the door, the Ringleader was there. Usually, he was glowering at us, but this time, he had an obnoxious grin fixated on his face. "Looks like you boys had a lovely time in there tonight."


    My brother, a better man than I, simply shook his head and walked out the door. For a second, I wondered what had happened to the original Wolfman. Why had he not been in the basement? Then I shook my head. It didn''t matter. Instead, I was about to flip the Ringleader off, only to realize I was suddenly falling backward.


    It took me a moment to understand what was happening, but Sam had grabbed me by the neck and was pulling me toward the ground. I hit the ground hard and even bit my lip. I started to sit up, but Sam placed her hand on my chest and forced me back down to the ground. It shouldn''t have been possible for such a small teen to overpower me, but she was suddenly incredibly strong. I noticed she had fangs in her mouth as she leaned down to bite my neck.


    Thinking fast, I reached out and grabbed the ankle she''d twisted, then pulled. With a cry of pain, Sam fell to the ground. I got up, but as old as I was getting, I wasn''t very fast, and Sam beat me to her feet. She stood between me and the door, crouched and ready to pounce. My brother was on the other side of the threshold, pounding his fists against an invisible barrier, trying to get back in, but apparently, you only got to enter this place once every year.


    Standing there, I was tired, sore, and sick of this nightmare house. I turned to the Ringleader, who was grinning and laughing like a maniac at the idea of finally getting rid of me, and I spit out a glob of blood that had been pooling from my lip as I looked him in the eyes and gave him a piece of my mind. "Fuck you, and fuck this house!" I then charged forward.


    The girl lept onto me, and I could feel her fingernails gouging bloody trails onto my back and arms while she sunk her teeth into my neck. However, I''m not a small man, and sheer momentum carried me across the threshold.


    As I explained before. The monsters of the house cannot leave the house, and Sam was no exception. She fell to the ground and cried out as she burst into flames. Thankfully, it didn''t take long before her shouts were silenced. Looking over at my brother, I could see a head in his hands, now dead, thank god. My attention must have reminded him of what he was holding because my brother suddenly dropped the thing with a half-disgusted, half-horrified expression. I looked to the street, but the parents and kids walking past didn''t seem to notice. It was like we were invisible to them.


    Putting a hand to my neck, it came away bloody, but not so bloody that I was worried I would bleed to death very quickly. I sighed and turned to leave, only to be surprised one last time.


    You never see Mister Hyde on the way in; that''s normal. But beside him was something else we hadn''t seen before. It was a large cross, on which was the Wolfman. Half his face had rotted away, leaving the bone exposed. The other half was a bruised and bloody mess, with strips of flesh torn and hanging from the muscle beneath as maggots filled every available crevis. I actually felt a little bad for the nightmarish Wolfman as he whimpered up on that cross.


    Leaning against the cross, acting like a proud artist showing off his work, was Mister Hyde. I looked back and forth between the two, unable to turn away. However, rather than fly into an inescapable rage, Mister Hyde merely chuckled. "Happy Halloween, boys. See you again next year. I''ll surely have something extra...special cooked up for ya!"


    Not wanting to incur his wrath, I just nodded, turned, and walked away. Mister Hyde''s laughter and the Wolfman''s whimpers followed my brother and me to the edge of the property when it suddenly stopped. Turning back, the house was gone, and we''d earned our freedom for another year. I had a passing thought then. Were those teens ever real, or were they just a new type of monster the house created to torment me? I might never know. Then again, maybe I don''t want to know since we were directly responsible for the deaths of two or three of them. Or perhaps they were already dead... I suppose it''s best to let it go, especially now that my time has grown short and I''m facing yet another haunted house run in my near future.


    In a few short days, I''ll have to return to that house and survive another of its twisted, cruel survival games. Wish me luck, and maybe a year from now, when the trauma has settled a bit, I''ll get back to you with another story of how we survived. Or maybe not. After all, my luck can only hold out so long, right?