《Storrilus Marvellous: A Collection of Short Stories - Volume I》


 #1 Death Among the Mushrooms

    There once was a seventeen-year-old boy called Martin who lived with his granny in a cabin in the woods. He never knew his parents. Being most of the time alone, with only his grandma that had problems with hearing, his life was passing by slowly. He had one friend, Johnny, with whom he often hung out.


    One evening, Johnny came to Martin for a sleepover at the cabin. Before they went to bed, they¡¯d been playing a board game throughout most of the evening. Shortly after they fell asleep it began raining and it didn¡¯t stop till early in the morning. Their plan was to go on a camping trip deep in the woods first thing in the morning, after breakfast, of course.


    The grandma prepared breakfast and a snack that they¡¯ll bring with them on the journey. After they filled their stomachs, they headed toward the woods. While they were walking, they took notice of strange mushrooms that were on both sides of their path. The boys decided to collect as many of those mushrooms as they could so they would be able to add them to their lunch. Having arrived at the preferable camping site, they set up their camp and collected firewood for the campfire.


    After it got really dark, they lit the fire and ate the mushrooms together with some meat grandma had given them. They didn¡¯t know that besides the edible mushrooms, there were some that were poisonous and that caused hallucinations. Shortly after that meal, they at once fell asleep. The Fairy of Life appeared in Martin¡¯s dream and it warned him not to come back home due to a threatening danger that awaited him. It also told him not to go looking for her, because he will regret that decision. At the moment Martin wasn¡¯t sure about whom the fairy had been talking about.


    Having woken up, Martin told his friend what he¡¯d been dreaming; they swiftly packed their things and rushed towards the cabin. Martin saw the door wide open, they came closer and then heard the whistling wind roaming through the empty rooms inside. Granny was nowhere to be found. He then thought of the thing the fairy had mentioned to him, about not seeking her, and concluded that "her" must have been his granny.


    Then, not knowing what else to do, he decided that the very least thing they could do was to go back to the place where he had seen The Fairy of Life, so he could ask it what to do to bring back Granny.


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    While The Fairy of Death was lurking in the shadows, it saw Martin and decided to disguise itself as The Fairy of Life. Then, it waited for him at the same spot where they had been sleeping. It told him that his granny was in a cave nearby. They hurried to get to the cave, without knowing who or what is hidden in it. In the cave first entered Jonny, because he was older than Martin, and because he wanted to examine the ground.


    For a long time, there was no answer, but then suddenly a creepy cry for help occurred that was definitely Johnny¡¯s. Martin flew into a dark room and saw his granny, whose skin had been peeled so that the muscles were visible, hanging from the cave¡¯s ceiling. She was stretched like a dead pig, her blood leaking into a big pot. Just next to her was the screecher, a monster with razor-sharp teeth that feeds on fortuneless victims, drinking their blood, in the end, leaving their dry corpses to rot.


    The screecher was holding Johnny for his right leg, and it looked like Johnny had passed out. Martin was watching as the screecher cut his best friend''s throat, leaving his body in the pot to fill it with blood. After that, the monster went after Martin, tied him up, and threw him mercilessly against the wall. The outraged bloodsucker was making a stew with human meat in it, carefully adding both Granny¡¯s and Johnny¡¯s meat, together with a bunch of mushrooms that had been sitting in a canvas sack. While he was doing all of this, he told a story to Martin:


    "Ahh... It was so long ago... Fifteen years ago, I was tasting that delicious meat, the most wonderful sensation I was feeling in my mouth. Your parents... hehehe... were an excellent choice for dinner. And now, because that stupid old sack of skin was so easy a prey, that I could get there effortlessly while she¡¯d been preparing dinner for you and your silly friend, I couldn¡¯t resist trying to lure you in right here into my trap. You know, for the best mixture you should add both female and male human meat, and in my case now you are more than welcome, to attenuate the toughness of your granny¡¯s chewy flesh."


    The very last thing Martin saw in front of his eyes was The Fairy of Life who took off its disguise costume, and showed itself in its real form ¨C it was The Fairy of Death, with giant devil horns and a sharp scythe that tears human flesh. The handle of the scythe was made of human ulnas The Fairy of Death had gotten from its countless victims.

 #2 Maddened Dreaming

    There was a boy, called Alex, who had a serious problem. He was an only child, and he never knew his father. When he was a baby, his mother noticed his behavior was more peculiar compared to his peers; he slept very little, and was often awake during the night, screaming for hours incessantly. This way of behaving didn¡¯t stop; the mother took him to various physicians, but it was all in vain ¨C they couldn¡¯t find a cure. He started speaking pretty late, about the age of three, and it seemed for a while that all the problems disappeared; that Alex would continue to live a normal life.


    Yet, when he turned twelve, he started complaining about weird monsters that chased him in his dreams; he couldn¡¯t wake up, and he would have a feeling that the dream had lasted for hours. The nightmares were unpredictable, and their frequency varied, too.


    One day he went to his friend for a sleepover. He had told him about his ¡°situation,¡± and he feared he might get possessed by his nightmares. Luckily, such a thing didn¡¯t happen, and Alex spent a completely normal night at his friend¡¯s house.


    After some time, he went with his mother to Greece and again tested the ¡°nightmary absence¡± experiment, with a positive outcome ¨C there were no nightmares. Due to this fact, his mother concluded that maybe there was something wrong with their house ¨C perhaps it was haunted or something, so they decided to move out. Unfortunately, the relocation did not help, and the nightmares kept on appearing in another house.


    The years went on, and the boy entered adulthood. After he turned eighteen, he was able to control his nightmares to some extent; the monsters started disappearing, yet there was still a brief moment when chaos emerged ¨C when one monster, in particular, would not stop haunting him. The monster was covered with hair; it had teeth that resembled boar tusks, and it also had the tail of a scorpion.


    It happened once that Scorboar ¨C which was the name of the monster that would never leave Alex alone ¨C had caught up with Alex while he was running away in a nightmare, and it had stung him with the stinger, after which the youngster was left in the sleep paralysis for a few hours. Due to this occurrence, he started visiting a psychiatrist, but the therapy wasn¡¯t of much help to him.


    One day, after ten years, he dreamed that his mother got sick. Scorboar was in that dream, who had ripped the mother¡¯s belly and chewed her bowels over her bed. After he woke up, he discovered his mother dead in bed; later on, he found out from a doctor that the cause of her death was sepsis.


    After a couple of years, he got married. One day, while they were sleeping together having sweet dreams ¨C a frightful nightmare appeared to him, so terrible that it gave him cramps all over his body. In the nightmare, the malevolent monster was gnawing his wife¡¯s leg, and the next morning his wife got leg paralysis. Consequently, this was the reason his darling spent most of her time at home.


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    Alex had to solve the problem that existed; he¡¯d been looking for solutions in various places for months until he heard of a sage who lived all alone in an abandoned village. He came to see him in the village on one occasion. The sage told him that the same thing had befallen him and that all his relatives had kicked the bucket in a horrible way, each death different from the previous one. He also said that after his second wife¡¯s death, he fled to the village and met a lot of friends who all died soon after. Luckily, the sage had found a remedy for his sufferings ¨C a tea that could suppress the awful dreams that had constantly exasperated him.


    Alex gladly received the news and he started drinking the miraculous tea. As a consequence, for years he had not had any dreams at all, so was able to catch some z¡¯s in peace.


    One night, after several decades, Alex¡¯s daughter stayed in the apartment to look after her now-aging father. The dad was senile, and most of the time he didn¡¯t know what he was doing. The daughter had been very busy, and she forgot to make the special tea for her daddy ¨C the tea that she knew he¡¯d been drinking for as long as she could remember. Due to this negligent lapse, Alex had fallen asleep jauntily, not knowing that he would encounter that night his old monstrous friend after all those carefree nights. However, the old Scorboar was nowhere in sight.


    Instead of him, now showed up his children, little scorpions with hooves who chased after his daughter and stabbed her in the head with their stingers. After they were done with her, frightened Alex watched those baneful scorpion hooves trample on his wife and her throat being torn by their tusks. In the morning came paramedics. The daughter had suffered a stroke and died, together with her mother who had suffocated in her sleep. The senescent Alex had also not awoken from his last nightmare. He joined his family, and they were all in a better place.


    The sage that had given Alex the tea turned one hundred twelve. After Alex¡¯s visit, he tried to puzzle out the reason and link for the curse that had been troubling both of them. After some time, he came across a book of curses in one library, which shed some light on the matter. It turned out the curse that had been cast over their families lasted till the death of the member on which it had been cast in the first place.


    The ultimate calamity was that all the beloved die to the cursed one, while, on the other hand, he is gifted with a long lifespan, during which he would suffer a great amount of sorrow and ruin of everything nice that he had ever experienced. At first, he had some trouble understanding why the curse occurred only to Alex and him, but then, after some thinking, he realized that his second wife must have become pregnant and that Alex was his child.

 #3 A Snow Globe

    ¡°Come on, honey, come to dinner!¡± the mother called her daughter who was swinging on the swing in the yard. Obedient Matilda went to the dining table where her mom and dad had been waiting for her. It was a carefree period for an eight-year-old girl who spent her time at leisure ¨C helping her mummy with household chores and coloring in her coloring book.


    One morning, bad news appeared on TV forecasting an oncoming period of food shortage for which it wasn¡¯t known how long it would last. It turned out afterward that the scarcity had lasted for three years. Despite the fact that they had bought food for quite some pantry, that wasn¡¯t enough, so they were starving during the last year of the big food shortage. That deficiency of necessary nutrients reflected upon Matilda¡¯s health, and each day her immune system started getting weaker and weaker. During the last couple of months, she was fighting for weeks with an unbeatable fever which did not leave her at peace.


    The fevers sometimes lasted for an entire week. After the recuperation and the horrible crisis, Matilda got better; nevertheless, the exhausting period of time she had lived through, in the years when her body was developing, certainly left some consequences on her health. She started to have check-ups periodically, every other month, so going to the hospital wasn¡¯t a strange thing to her at all.


    On one Thursday morning, she went to a regular check-up with her parents. Like many times before, she was taken to the room where many medical examinations were performed. She was sitting on the chair, spinning in it occasionally and looking around herself, when she noticed that the eye test poster wasn¡¯t on the wall. She was really startled and immediately turned toward the table where the doctor was sitting, wanting to ask when they had moved the poster because she liked it very much and wanted to take a photo of it as a memento.


    However, there wasn¡¯t anyone in the doctor¡¯s chair. This seemed pretty weird to her, inasmuch as she''d been listening to that annoying typing sound of the keyboard just a couple of minutes ago while he was entering data into her digital medical record. She got up, walked to the door, peered through it, and saw that her parents were not in the waiting room. She thought they went outside to smoke a cigarette, but nevertheless, she decided to find the nurse on duty and ask her if she had seen them. She went to the room where she knew for sure the nurse was staying, but the room was empty. While freaking out in that room, she noticed that something weird was going on with the lights in the hallway.


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    After stepping into the hallway, the lights went down and started shining much dimmer than before, together with one red bulb that emitted red emergency light. Realizing that this condition did not mean good, she began to hear alarm sounds, such sounds as in a state of emergency or evacuation. She rushed towards the exit, looking left and right all the time and worrying about what she was seeing ¨C empty hallways and rooms, without any sound, and with dim light. The entire hospital was desolate! Every second, her heart pumped the next dose of adrenaline, and this continued on and on, without stopping. She finally decided to go home, which was very close to the hospital, due to her frequent visits. After a few minutes, she found herself in front of the familiar creaking door. There wasn¡¯t any light in the hallway; she thought that there might have been a power outage in town.


    There was a strange, musty odor in the air. Her footsteps stirred clouds of dust behind her. ¡°How is this possible when Mother cleans up every week!¡± she thought. After realizing that the first floor was empty, she rushed upstairs in a panicky manner to find her parents. There was not a single living soul on the second floor. In her room, still not understanding what was happening, she fell to her knees and burst into tears. After half an hour of wetting her cheeks, she hopelessly went outside.


    Time passed unrealistically fast, and from the beautiful morning clouds, there was now a blanket of darkness in the sky. Not even the stars peered curiously from the navy-blue veil. It was as if the world had stopped. There was no one on the streets, even the wind was gone. The moment she noticed that she no longer felt cold, she saw a man coming toward her. Not a word did he say but he put something in her hand. It was a snow globe.


    The unknown man was the Angel of Death who handed her the key to the Land of the Dead ¨C that key represented a part of the world of the living trapped in a snow globe, a part of a dear memory of the deceased. She stared at the snow globe and saw that the snow in it had stopped falling, and she was now looking at herself swinging on the swing as a child.

 #4 Never Forget The Softness of Our Hug

    The street lamps shed light on the hospital windows. One window was part of a spacious birth room with children in beds and incubators. That September night, the biggest joy of the Krik family was born ¨C a tiny Rick. He was born prematurely, so he needed to spend some time in the incubator. On the side of that life-giving box of the little baby, there were neatly in line put stuffed animals ¨C a lion, zebra, an elephant, and a parrot¨Call bought by the parents as a birthday gift for their little-handed treasure.


    Eight years passed in a blink of an eye, and little Rick hadn¡¯t stopped playing and spending a lot of his happy-go-lucky time with his non-animate animals. He had been through a phase of a zookeeper, an exotic-animals farmer, a cowboy on the zebra, and a savannah explorer with his lion pet, so as through a phase of a fearless pirate with his loyal parrot on his shoulder. Currently, he was in a circus-performer role in his world-known circus ¡°Little Lagoon,¡± and he was just about to do a breath-taking performance¨Ca handstand on his little elephant Misha.


    A call for lunch from his mom interrupted his playing, which gathered all his focus in a whirlpool of fun. Surely, the stuffed toys weren¡¯t left alone this time, as any other time, for that matter. He took them with him and placed them onto special chairs next to him. On the table were potatoes with chicken, a favorite dish of his father, George the Lion, and himself. The whole family enjoyed the meal with big smiles on their faces.


    Years passed, and problems naturally arose. Rick¡¯s dad had found a mistress and held the relationship in secret. The secret didn¡¯t last very long because the wife had smelled the mistress¡¯ perfume and the fighting had started since then. The mother had been quarreling with the father for weeks, but he continued with his affair because he didn¡¯t have any feelings for her anymore. One wintery night, the wife fell asleep waiting for him to return from her, and, having drunk an entire bottle of wine, she had forgotten to turn off the room heater.


    Her vest was hanging from the chair and it was so close that it caught the flame. She slept soundly and burned in the flames. Rick was asleep, too, but the parrot fell on his face in the middle of the night, and he woke up; he smelled the smoke from the hallway and rushed outside in his jammies, bracing his stuffed friends all the time. The firefighters, who had been called by a neighbor, were comforting the boy after having told him that his mother had died in the fire. The father returned early in the morning, and a horrifying sight of the police cars and fire engines that were before the burned-down house befell him.


    The very next day, his father forsook him and went to live with the mistress, while Rick was left to be a case for social workers who were in search of an appropriate foster family. That day hadn¡¯t seen its end, but a family adopted Rick. It was a couple that couldn¡¯t have had kids when they were young, and they were now in their later years; so if a person would observe them, they would say they were Rick¡¯s grandparents, not parents. But, not considering their age, they treated the boy like he was their own child. The years passed by very quickly, and puberty came. Rick was neglecting his stuffed friends more often than usual because girls occupied his attention now.


    One night, he asked his stepfather for some money so he could ask out the girl he really liked on a date at the fair. With a beating heart and a wide smile on his face, he ran out that night and headed toward a flower shop. The watch hands on his wristwatch were sliding incredibly fast, and he was now near the end of his adrenaline night, completely submerged in a love bubble. He kissed the soft cheek of his future girlfriend and casually strolled to his house.


    He spent the evenings playing eight-ball and foosball with his friends, sometimes table tennis or darts; the fun was in various forms nonstop. After all those nights of laughs and hanging out, he would gladly lay his head on the pillow and fall asleep. He wouldn¡¯t think about the exciting days full of action because he couldn¡¯t wait for the sun to be born again the next day above the roof of his house.


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    After a few weeks characterized by exciting and passionate dates in parks and caf¨¦s, the moment had come for him to invite her to sleep over at his place. They were both blushful and had their faces covered with a thin layer of embarrassment during that conversation, but the love craziness surely wasn¡¯t lacking. The moon was glowing with a white, chubby shimmer that was shining from its round sphere, spilling the light onto the footsteps of his girl. She found herself in front of a set of wooden stairs of Rick''s porch. She knocked at the door, at which sound Rick tumbled down the spiral stairs while shouting to his stepparents that he would answer the door.


    That night he would remember as a passionate whirl that swallowed and left them both sweaty on the bedsheet. However, already early in the morning, one totally different sight forever would be engraved in Rick¡¯s memory, not letting him be peaceful even during the most peaceful nights of his life. Namely, the moment he opened his eyes that morning and started to caress the hair of his girlfriend, he was terror-stricken by the touch of the congealed bedsheet at the spot where she had been lying. It was soaked in coagulated blood, and the girl¡¯s body was lying lifelessly on the floor beside the bed. She was lying with bruised-looking skin color in a puddle of blood, and from the nose and mouth, the long-ago-congealed blood was seen.


    The police did a minute investigation, yet they weren¡¯t able to find the culprit, and the polygraph vouched for Rick that he was clean. After having carried the body from the room, and while Rick was in an incessant panic and disbelief due to the current bloody reality, when he returned to the room with a dreadful expression on his face ''cause of the unpleasant accident and the long inquiry, there was no end to his shock.


    He fainted and slid against the door after having seen his favorite stuffed friends circled around the puddle of blood at the murder spot with an ominous grin on their faces that he had never seen before until that night.


    The girl had numerous bruises all over her body, especially around her belly. The autopsy showed that all of her organs had burst from some unknown inner force. She had been dying a martyr¡¯s slow death, feeling the whole time her organs fail one by one.


    26th of August, the year of Rick¡¯s birth


    The father was looking at a sign of an antique shop that read "Blue Royal." Searching for some trinket that would kill his time, he set his eyes on a chest with black imprinted letters "Needs Care and Proper Attachment to Work Nice" that for some reason he seemed to like. The salesman discouraged him from buying it, but the man insisted on finding out what was inside. Inside were stuffed animals, orderly arranged in red velvet¨Ca lion, zebra, an elephant, and a parrot, with a cute smile and soft fur. But looks can be deceiving.


    Regardless of their cuteness and the good prospect of playing with them, those stuffed animals had been cursed by an evil spirit, Elvis, that had an affinity for a person who looked at him on the first day of that person¡¯s life, that is after the birth of a child. At that moment, this spirit would link to his little master with an indestructible and invisible bond of its own universe, and he would be quite protective of that person. That was the reason why he had killed his master¡¯s girlfriend; he had a sense of foreboding that she might separate him from Rick in the future.


    "Hmmm," after having had a good look at the little stuffed friends and having gotten butterflies in his stomach that could hint at a happy future with them, he said, "Those will be an excellent occupation for my future boy... How much are they, sir?"

 #5 Inner Reality

    Those are a really beautiful wheelchair, I thought. Thank God I only have one shortcoming, physical incapacity would only further complicate my life. But what is actually missing in me? I know what day it is today ¨C Wednesday. That was easy. I also know my last name and first name.


    Am I crazy? However, if we were to talk about madness, we would probably highlight some incomprehensible and illogical things. I mean ¨C I assume. Then it could be said that the one who thinks about madness is mad, right? I know I heard once that thoughts come to a person spontaneously, that actually, he already possesses all the information, he just isn''t aware of it yet, at least until they come to mind.


    Now, it depends, of course, on how meticulous one is, and how diligently they maintain their compartments in their head. I think that if someone repeated the same sentences more, they would eventually form into a larger, more complex one over time. That''s entirely logical, I would say. Like when a baby repeats only "mama" and never "dada." Then over time, they would understand parenthood as a woman''s duty.


    It wouldn''t be strange if something was done more frequently and only in one way. Monotony is a strict teacher. But again, through repetition, we understand the reality around us, what is good, and what is bad. Because for a good thing, doing it once is enough for someone to be happy, and you''ve succeeded, while for a bad thing, a different fire ignites. Although it can start as good but actually be bad.


    I tell you - who would have thought that money would bring so much evil to people? Only one man didn''t want to exchange his apples for wool. I mean, I understand him, he also had sheep, what would he need more wool for? But still, he thought it could be better, that an agreement could be reached. But I blame him for spending only a small amount of iron on coined money.


    I understand for tools, but he really didn''t need weapons. Well, you can''t go without an axe in winter when it''s cold. Even a mace for defense against wolves I understand, but still. It''s interesting how a torch burns longer when soaked in fat, one would initially think that dry things burn longer, but there you see the truth.


    ..//..


    And it was such a beautiful storm. I remember the turbulent water differently from my uncle because he was on the lookout, up high on the mast. He kept yelling for me to turn around, ¡°Turn around, we''re heading straight into the storm!¡± And I didn''t quite understand what difference it made if I turned, whether to the right or left, the ship still followed the same path.


    There was a certain energy, you know. Yes, the waves constantly battered the ship, so I couldn''t recall the melody of a song, but that''s irrelevant now. No one can claim to know how something works if they haven''t experienced it. And I experienced such an adventure that afternoon. I didn''t just like that it thundered a lot, the lightning distracted me, and my socks were always wet. I''d occasionally go to the cabin to change them, but as soon as I stepped out of the cabin, I felt that unpleasant cold.


    I probably had a fever due to chills, now that I think about it. But it wasn''t my fault, it was as if I were in an icy pool, filled up to my knees. The smell wasn''t that bad, there was a slight moldy odor, that''s true, but the scent of salt and shells replaced the air mixture. I could just feel the vein pulsating in my temple and my knees trembling more as time passed.


    Unfortunately, not everything was as magical as it might seem. My uncle perished that day. And to this day, I don''t understand why he tried to impress me with his double somersault. He had never been a great gymnast. Namely, at one point, while I was probably looking towards the open sea and thinking about how big a wave must be for a whale to surf comfortably, the ship shook violently because we came across a chain of huge orange buoys. It quickly darkened, and after some time, the Coast Guard came to rescue me. A sailor''s life is tough, I''ve always said that.


    ..//..


    The roof was high up. Still, she jumped strongly enough and caught the edge of the gutter. There was soil and a few young birch saplings. Even some roots occasionally made holes in the old metal.


    When she looked up towards the blazing sun, she felt the sharpness of its rays. Drops of sweat gathered on dark eyebrows and streamed down her curved cheeks. In the distance, she saw a railroad track on a smaller elevation. At one point, she saw a black object gliding on it from afar. She approached the edge of the roof to see better what was moving there, carelessly stepping on the quality old tile.


    She noticed mold covering the tiles in the form of brown spots of different radii. The moment she realized small mining carts were moving on the track, a large brown stain beneath her opened, and she fell. At times, she felt like she was in some sort of whirlpool until her vision blurred.


    She found herself on damp soil. She opened her eyes. She felt a slight pressure at the back of her head. It was dark, seemed like she was in a hallway. Ahead, the air was fresher, so she assumed an exit was nearby. She didn''t understand how she got there but decided to find the way out and free herself. She could only continue straight ahead. After a long walk, her eyes caught a flash of light. There were torches on the wall burning for some reason.


    She approached and saw two metal chests covered with red fabric. How they got here, she thought. The fact that they weren''t dusty or rusty puzzled her, even though her toenails were of a miner''s design. She couldn''t understand this cleanliness because she had removed dry soil from her sandals several times before arriving at this place. They were unlocked as well. She began to suspect she had wandered into a dream, and, as time passed, this idea seemed to make sense.


    As she began to peer into the inside of one of the chests, the ground began to shake. She stopped approaching, and the tremors ceased. As she waited and pondered what to do, a loud roar came from in front of her, where there were no torches, where darkness ruled. Without thinking, she rushed towards the chests, opened both, and saw they were full of dynamite and spilled gunpowder.


    She stood still, and the roaring grew louder. Out of nowhere, with a strong tremor, the earthen roof of the tunnel opened, and an immense amount of light attacked the pupils of the immobilized girl. Something grabbed her from above and began pulling her out. The last thing she saw, as green tendrils wrapped around her waist and armpits and began pulling her towards the outside, was the silhouette of a five-legged creature where she was before she detached from the ground.


    ..//..


    It became cold. Fragile snowflakes landed on her warm palm. Despite the majestic sight, every time she unintentionally killed one, she felt drops of sadness filling her heart''s cup. The whole beauty lasted shortly, and because of that, she savored it with all her heart.


    She listened to the crunch of her boots on the snow-covered sidewalk as she walked lightly. She observed the imprints of her boot soles. She thought about warm chocolate with a sprig of cinnamon. She imagined that if she placed a yellow parasol with red stripes on the rim of a copper mug, due to the warm air, the forged mug would fly away to the south.


    Probably, on some beach, perhaps in Sri Lanka, they would sip lemonade from it with the same yellow parasol. Then, over time, the mug would return to her hands, but it would be so damaged by all the sandy gusts carried by the wind on that beach that the taste of warm chocolate would never be the same again.


    Every night is not the same, and yet ¨C it seems so. The stars are there, in the same places as on the nights before this one, streetlights shine with the same intensity, and silence reigns in the small hours. We can see the difference in lunar phases. Sometimes, one night is very important to someone, while for another, it might be the last in this life.


    And now, the sun has set behind the same hills. If they weren''t weary, people would always be angry at the sun because it is so selfish. It carries all the warmth with it. It holds every dawn in its lantern. As if it absorbs a part of everyone''s energy with its departure.


    It was no longer as interesting to listen to the gentle sound of footsteps. Fear emerged, knocking on the back door. A howling was heard, and soon four crazy dogs appeared in front of her. She didn''t think, she started running back the way she came. She thought she wouldn''t be able to escape them, but by some miracle, she managed to keep her distance.


    She turned right, hoping to throw them off her trail, but after a few meters, she found herself in front of three large green containers. It was a dead-end ¨C a cul-de-sac. She stopped, trying to catch her breath. She was ready to fight for her life, even though she knew the odds weren''t in her favor.


    But she didn''t get to play the fateful dance. A small black cat jumped out of the right container. It stood on the edge while the dogs barked relentlessly. From that edge, it jumped onto the terrace right in front, always presenting a live target to the frothy dogs. It climbed onto the metal fence of the terrace and began running along it, jumping from one terrace to another. Hungry glares were still fixed on her, and muscular bodies started chasing the cat as it fled around the corner of the building.


    The animals ran off in their direction, and she stood there, with adrenaline in her veins, until her legs gave way. She slid to the ground. She couldn''t stop trembling. Inexperienced, she cursed the situation she was in and collapsed on the ground. Her vision darkened, and consciousness left her.


    They swayed on sturdy stems. All those golden children whose birth follows in the hot month. So much care was given to them ¨C by humans, but also by Mother Nature, making their future so important. Few people understand what actually makes gold for humanity. Every root of the plant looks up to its earth. It grows toward the stars, high above. It moves away from its stability and beginning, from its origins, hoping to bloom. To bear fruit. All for continuity.


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    Throughout its life, it looked up to its family. Bathed in light and buffeted by the wind, it never gave up. It succeeded. Now it was the cradle of new life and had long prepared for separation. It didn''t expect that on that hot day, that final buffeting would separate it from its world. From its seeds. And it never expected that it would finally emerge from its membranes, from its darkness, but safety and feel the light on its skin.


    That''s usually how it goes; the inexperienced seek experience, while the experienced seek patience. Knowing what awaits you usually doesn''t bode well. The fateful judgment is therefore on an invisible height, separated by so many steps from our consciousness that we don''t even realize it exists. But there''s that balance. All those obstacles, even on a daily basis. All that exchange of energy.


    We sometimes think we have no limits ¨C then it happens that we wither, and lose spirit. Yet our mind drives us to wander still, even as our eyelids grow heavier. That''s why we dream. We seek an alternative reality. Continuation. The brain tickles us, we don''t stop living. We love all those trials, and adversities. That''s how pleasure was born. Only those who have gone through hell know what heaven is. Experience, one might say.


    But sometimes it''s also confusing. It seems that the right thing is wrong, and we don''t understand how we even thought of it. And then, when we choose the "wrong" one, we wonder if this sequence of events makes sense. Sometimes, and in most cases, we regret it. Regret ¨C nothing more than the desire to control time and the course of a situation. All those mischievous glances and every wrongly spoken word.


    But still, we don''t see the judge, so how can we know that we''re being judged?


    She thought she was lying in tall grass. That her shadow was playing tricks on her face. Storks were flying above the marsh; she saw several of them carrying fabric bags in their mouths. She wondered why they were doing a service to people even though they had killed so many of them. She looked behind her, still reclining, her head resting on straw mud.


    All this time, she thought the grass was giving her shade, but now that she saw it, she became very frightened. A huge man with a straw hat, on which there was a piece of land with thick reeds, stood motionless, rubber boots buried in the mud. She jerked and rose. With trembling lips and a pale face, she looked at him.


    His face couldn''t be seen from the yellowish bandage wrapped around his head. She thought she couldn''t breathe and that there was no protrusion where his nose should be. Her ears were burning, sweat started trickling down her forehead. She tried to pull back but didn''t budge. She looked at her feet; they were on the ground, which was now dry with cracks. She lifted her head, and the man was gone.


    The tall grass, which provided greenery to the landscape, didn''t exist. She felt empty, in a strange way. She touched her stomach and was amazed. She could feel herself touching her spine. Her skin wasn''t there. No muscles, no organs. She turned around and fainted in the turn. She hit the ground hard with her cheek. Her eyes watched her insides with a whirlwind of flies above them. Blurring ensued, along with a dull pain in the chest and lower abdomen.


    ..//..


    Inside a bat''s cheek, there must sometimes remain a wing of a mosquito, she thought. They must be very sweet, otherwise, they wouldn''t eat them. When one thinks about it, it''s clear why some species have chosen to directly drink blood. A lot of effort needs to be put in, and many mosquitoes need to be eaten to replenish a cup of fresh blood. That''s a healthy liquid, full of iron. She chuckled at the thought that stagnant blood could be called rusty.


    She remembered the brave cat that saved her. She kept her eyes closed to extract its sketch in her mind, trying to remember her hero. She heard a faint meowing. She knew that sometimes the brain played with her, emitting suitable sounds to complete her memory. She was sure that was the case now, but she wanted to check. She liked to check things, to prove her intuitions, to create arguments to show she was aware.


    She opened her eyes and felt a murky tension in her head. Her body began swaying from side to side, but she could clearly see herself. Clasping her paws with its tail, it squatted steadily and watched her swinging uncontrollably. She stopped swaying as if rooted in the ground and stood still. Two yellow diamonds were fixed on the narrowed pupils. Even if she wanted to, she couldn''t speak then. Perhaps she would have wanted to show gratitude, to ask how and why, but it just wasn''t possible.


    Her jaw was in a spasm, teeth grinding, and her pupils rolled upwards. With hands stiffened by her body, she collapsed to the ground like a candle. She felt alternating, pulsating pains in her thighs and lower back muscles. Helplessly trembling, trying to absorb and reveal all the pain. A moment before her consciousness left her, when the batteries were drained and her eyelids relaxed, the shadows of a lively hairy tail flickered before her eyes.


    ..//..


    She trod on a cloudy mattress. Her eyes didn''t see the dusty ceiling, where rays, piercing through wooden blinds, portrayed a swirling dance of dust particles. Her imagination didn''t allow it. Three feathers peeking out of the mattress were launching pads, from which she would bounce high above the roof, into dense white smoke, light and soft, where children''s dreams sailed in a gentle boat. It was a sweet ship with a mast made of bent purple and white lollipops and a rudder made of Neapolitan wafers.


    Paved with wafers, it had sails made of stiff cotton candy and an anchor made of glued rock candies. Jelly cannons fired marshmallows through the white thicket ahead, creating sweet cavities from which honey dripped. However, the sugary reverie vanished and cleared after a fat gray rat surprised her with its clumsy run from one end of the wall to the other.


    She wasn''t scared, just saddened, as she thought that it was probably hungry. Not wanting to scare it, she didn''t approach but descended the stairs and hurried to the kitchen. She didn''t find any cheese in the fridge, and she wasn''t sure if it would want to eat the piece of leftover spreadable processed cheese from yesterday''s breakfast, so she grabbed a slice of dried ham and cut a few pieces.


    She began searching for it as soon as she returned upstairs, but she couldn''t find it. She no longer heard the indistinct cry of the chubby little one. Tired, she settled on her stained cloud and ate the brought meat. She was angry with herself for not arriving on time. For lingering too much. For not approaching it and telling it to wait.


    She stood up and threw her slippers far away. One hit the wall, brushing off the surface dust from the wooden plank flooring. She stared at a point low to the floor, not perceiving colors and shades, wondering what had happened to the rodent. When she directed her focus to sight, she suddenly stood up.


    In the corner of her right visual field, she noticed movement. Now she heard a bloody slurping. It seemed like some little animal was eating its prey. She approached and saw ¨C it was her chubby one, now gutless, with eyes fixed to one side. It lay dead while a skinny black cat enjoyed its insides. The cat continued to drink the fluids of its prey and nibble on it. It paid no attention to the girl with braids.


    Suddenly, it turned. With bloody jaws and glassy eyes, it stared stiffly at her. It meowed with a voice of great depth, unheard before. The rafters of the attic cracked in the middle, and the roof collapsed.


    ..//..


    Sleep was much needed. She felt the weight of her eyelids. She tried unsuccessfully to stay awake. The surrounding whirlwind of events turned into a straight line. Everything else seemed insignificant compared to that feeling. She imagined her heart in her chest, now resting in a lounge chair between her ribs. She looked at her hands. She didn''t notice any nails on her fingers. It seemed like she was trying her hardest to stay focused.


    She felt warm and cozy. Now she knew she was lying on a bench. In front of her was a fiery sight ¨C a huge chasm full of lava. She was on top of a volcano. She found herself high, so high that birds flew at her height. She smelled burnt air. She was thirsty. She would drink swamp water now. She noticed how the ground a little farther from her, at the foot of the volcano, was splitting and spreading. She watched the tearing and downfall of an unfortunate shrub and a few huge rocks. The crack healed.


    Now, out of nowhere, grass appeared on the previously barren, scorching ground. She turned to see how far the newly created mountain pasture extended and saw water. Previously where there was lava, there was now a sparkling lake. Even the fish stirred the water in it. She didn''t understand how the previously hot, volcanic scene had been replaced by a gentle, forested one. New animals and plants appeared so quickly that she couldn''t keep up with the sequence of events.


    Now she watched a wild pig running scared away from her. She saw joyful rabbits and huge gorillas in the far corner of the forest, curious squirrels on tree branches, and a multitude of parrots in the canopies. She clasped her hands to her face and covered herself with an unbelievable view. She moved her hands.


    Now she trod on the leaves of ripe forest strawberries. Joyfully, she bent down to pick a few. As she was bringing them to her mouth, her brain boiled with serotonin. All the upcoming sugar spread her mouth wide and collected on her cheeks in soft pads. She ate a few strawberries and truly enjoyed them. The moderately sweet taste was very pleasant.


    However, instead of small red morsels, strawberries didn''t dissolve in her mouth; large fiery bugs lay crushed on her tongue. When she felt the strange, bitter taste, she gathered the clumped remains at the tip of her tongue and spat them out. When she saw what was in the spit, she felt sick.


    The next moment, the strange crushed pile on the ground turned into a moth and landed on her nose. It was a match that lit the wick of illusion. Aflame, screaming inwardly, she fainted. After a short dark pause, she opened her eyes. She stared at a strange glass ball.


    ..//..


    The rooster''s eye watched me. It wanted to know who I was. Probably, it wasn''t clear to it why my sleeves were torn, even though I put on this pajama for the first time the day before yesterday. But it doesn''t have to look at me so angrily, what does that crest on its head mean?


    I know I''m guilty, it doesn''t have to point out every mistake. I faltered, yes, but why ¨C does it ask? If only it knew why I get up on the wrong foot every day, it wouldn''t look at me with a beak on its face. But I understand it too, of course. I mean, that''s usually how it goes. The brains run the house, showing who''s in charge and who shouldn''t be offended. I don''t blame it for not having any more corn. I''ll eat pudding; I''m used to it.


    I don''t have a cow or a goat, and I still haven''t tried cornbread with dog cheese. It''s probably not too greasy, I guess. Because a puppy isn''t that demanding, above all. I mean, of course, it doesn''t see very well at first, but what intelligent thing is there to see? Newspapers no longer write about interesting scientists¡¯ endeavors or the mechanics of time. I don''t prefer gossip, so maybe it''s better to be blind to most things.


    I''m just not sure if anyone would mind if I put pineapple in the freezer. I wonder if I''d get exotic fruit ice cubes, because that wouldn''t be fair according to nature''s rules, maybe. But surely the curiosity wouldn''t be missing.


    Ah, how do birds fly so flawlessly without a decent compass? Mother Earth thought instead of everyone, even me. What are all these answers worth if nobody would understand me? It''s not worth arguing with ordinary people; even fools realize that. You think you''re right only when someone applauds, but in fact, the signals aren''t directed at you. Hah, it would be easier if people had another pair of eyes on the back of their heads... Although, as glasses sometimes aren''t enough for someone, I believe the Sun does most people a bear''s favor...


    ..//..


    They are calling her by her name. She takes the pink pill offered to her in a plastic cup. She gets up and is led to her room, walking through the hallway whose walls are made of glass. Supported by the nurse''s hand, she is walking mechanically toward the direction it leads, while her gaze remains focused outside the glass. For a few seconds, which she had managed to steal from the daily monotony, she was watching a black cat with white paws. It was still playing with a yellow elm leaf, just like it did yesterday.

 #6 The Hollow Truth

    - The Dream of a Sleeping Boy Who Knowingly Treads Forbidden Ground -


    He lay in the field of lies. He admired the pearl petals, illuminated by the sun, which, discontentedly, reflected attention. Raising his head and making a double chin, he saw a hollow stump squatting carelessly. Out of nowhere, he noticed black clouds floating above his head. Suddenly, lightning struck the stump and fire erupted.


    The smell of smoke was his most effective alarm clock. Panic-stricken and confused, he got up and sat on the bed. He had fallen asleep dressed because the previous night he collapsed on the bed from exhaustion. The flame reached the ceiling, spreading across half of the apartment. He quickly put on leather boots and placed a hat on his morning-tousled hair. He spotted a broken window and shards of dark glass from a Molotov cocktail bottle on the floor. Fortunately, the apartment had another window, with fire escape stairs. Without hesitation, he hurried to it, taking only a black briefcase and leaning it against the bedside table next to the bed.


    ..//..


    The end of the thread emerges through the frontal bone, releasing pearls of thought to wander aimlessly. Occasionally, a thread gets stuck between the touch of two gears, which at that moment is explained by the stall of the consciousness mechanism.


    A man stood for a long time, his boot leaning on a small wooden fence, his left elbow dug into his bent knee, holding his chin in thought, while his right hand remained steadily on his waist. Time passes, and the clock strikes noon. At that moment, like the play of sticks on the floor of a tense leather drum membrane, it begins to reverberate in the limited bony cell, into which we lock ourselves in moments of solitude and deep contemplation.


    Every day, fatigue puts handcuffs on our wrists, pushes us into the corner of the cell, and after a little while, either we sink into darkness, to the bottom, where devils tickle us with glowing rods, or we unconsciously start to levitate and, floating, exit through the glass window on the ceiling leading us to the realm above the rainbow, clouds, and sun.


    His name was Samuel Ricky Jackson. At first, he indifferently observed the details of his surroundings. In front of his eyes, a wave of hot air shimmered. Sun rays bounced off glossy sand particles constantly irritating his pupils. Occasionally, a cactus stem evaporated in the monotonous yellow landscape.


    He was in the Wantru desert, at a stop on the only road passing through this place. He had come here in his gray 1956 Cadillac Series 62. Behind him, just a few steps away, on his left side, stood a wooden structure of light construction, resembling a shed. Inside, a crying girl hugged her knees and sat huddled in the tight corner of this small, dusty room. Next to her lay a dead man with a blossoming, bloody temple beneath which a hardened stream of blood had flowed.


    As the little remaining blood moistened the dusty ground inside the shed, Sam slowly began to realize what he had done. He started to question the whole situation. He walked toward the shed, took the girl by the hand, and forcibly pushed her into the car. The corpse was covered with blue plastic. Then he sprayed that plastic with white paint, using an old squirrel hair brush he found on the wooden shelf.


    He started the car engine and after a few seconds, on the only road through the Wantru desert, there was only a cloud of dust. That was the only trace the peculiar killer left in that scorching desert. After about 50 km, at the Saint Olymp gas station, he stepped on the worn brake of his car, opened the door, and left the girl.


    The bewildered girl got out, and a short man in a green tuxedo approached the car, threw a blue sports bag onto the back seat, and exclaimed,


    ¡°Das Ende ist alles bestimmt!¡± (The end is predestined for all!)


    Smiling, Samuel continued driving, searching for the right song on the radio, and when he finally found it, it was ¡°Hola¡± by Hermanos Rosa, he lit a thick brown cigar, tried to reach for the long-awaited gift of the little green gremlin, and started to unzip the bag. The zipper slid along its metal rail, the die was cast, and the bag was open ¡ª Jackson''s widened eyes weren''t frozenly focused on the dark cavity of the bag for long.


    Faint, shallow greenery lingered in the eye''s iris long enough to warm Sam''s heart, but only for a moment because the dazzling whiteness overwhelmed the green bundles, and in 4 seconds, it was all over.


    ..//..


    Clearly defined roles in the business process of the company "GT" (Green Trinity) were determined by its director, Sorran Maygic. The bald leader sat behind his lacquered, wooden table made of white pine all day, perusing business magazines and keeping track of his company''s daily accounts.


    He spent breaks admiring the pistol in the drawer of his desk, sipping white tea from a blue cup that he often placed on a Chinese porcelain saucer. This one cup used to be accompanied by five sisters, a stepmother teapot, and a cousin ¡ª a funnel-shaped milk jug. The whole set was a charming gift from Sorran''s mother, which he selfishly preserved, adorned with a layer of dust in a glass cupboard, except for the blue cup he used daily.


    The director utilized every morning hour to the maximum, while during the afternoon sessions, he was enchanted by tired boredom, staring out of the window. The unique sight of natural phenomena and colors didn''t give peace to his soul. Although it may have seemed strange, such relaxation represented excellent meditation for the bald man; with this technique, he sharpened his nerves for the past 20 years and despite "a few" strands of hair, he hadn''t lost anything particular.


    ..//..


    The company ostensibly dealt with the production of methyl alcohol to obtain highly energy-efficient fuel for jet engines. This was just a cover; they had found a formula that enabled the creation of a compound with high energy potential and self-regeneration. The main ingredients were methanol and sulfur, where methanol served as the energy source, while sulfur created a special concrete chamber around the core to prevent melting and detonation due to immense temperature.


    They named this compound "yellow Rock-filler granite" because of its color and the degree of danger. It took 8 years to form, and only one could be produced during that time, requiring immense dedication and precision in chemical processes. Initially, they created "red Rock-filler granite" with an additional mixture of phosphorus and liquid clay, but the drawback of this granite was that it was extinguished after approximately 46 hours, ending in an atomic explosion.


    The company tried to prevent information about these achievements from reaching the public, but a mistake by one worker led to the leakage of news in the newspapers the next day. Due to sleepiness and monotony at work, the worker mistakenly delivered <sup>32</sup>S instead of <sup>34</sup>S, resulting in an explosion due to the wrong isomer. The noise was reported to the police by a nearby shepherd out of fear, causing commotion. Although the company took measures to conceal the "Ground Power" operation, Sam''s eye caught a snippet of the 5th page of the Vitro business magazine.


    At first, he was surprised to see the name of the company where his brother had been working for almost three years in the newspaper, especially with such a headline ¨C "New Chernobyl?". He began to suspect and wonder what kind of operations were happening at his brother''s company. His suspicion was reinforced by the disappearance of the magazine issue containing the sensational headline.


    Additionally, he expected new reports related to the mysterious accident, but there were no inspections or other stories. He developed a theory that this unfortunate "accident" must have been violently covered up, which turned out to be true. All of this fueled his tireless spirit. Full of inspiration, he eagerly began to gather information.


    ..//..


    Sam created various images in his mind, trying to find out more about the whole situation, and he decided on the most reliable way. He told his brother that he wanted to work at the company, as an assistant, cleaner, or similar position.


    "I want to be more responsible, take matters into my own hands, and make something of my life," he said.


    Initially, Rodrick found it strange, but he had always believed in his older brother and was immensely glad that he was trying to change. He vouched for his brother and recommended him to the boss, and Sam was soon hired as a hallway cleaner.


    Everything went according to plan; now he was in direct contact with the source of targeted information. He spent months working, the job wasn''t difficult for him, and the daily joy of playing detective made it even easier. Sam was a gifted manipulator, extracting information from employees so effortlessly that it seemed like cheating in this deadly game of dangerous destinies.


    Furthermore, he learned things he hadn''t even hoped for, such as his brother seeing a girl and being very distressed lately. His Rod? With a girl? The young man who had been dedicated to a higher goal his whole life to succumb to a girl''s charm?


    Several times during work, minor earthquakes occurred, to which he received responses from other workers ¨C that an experiment with a new type of fuel was underway. Of course, he didn''t believe them; moreover, with each such tremor, a strange smell of rotten eggs soon filled the hallways. He also saw a light yellow dust that sometimes emerged from the ventilation vents and immediately returned due to the strong suction power of the building''s ventilation system.


    To confirm his suspicions, he knew it would be best to ask his master of strange reactions in the chemical world, Rod. It turned out that in most cases, the unpleasant but poisonous smell came from hydrogen sulfide, which made him understand the mystery of the yellow dust ¨C it came from sulfur compounds.


    One afternoon, he heard a louder conversation behind the office door of the man responsible for the floor above. Many sentences in the conversation were unintelligible to him, but he clearly understood three words - pistol, bald, and secret. He immediately discerned that baldness must be connected to the company''s leader, Sorran. It wasn''t at all surprising to him that the whole project happening in the building was mysterious. But a pistol? It was reasonable only to a certain extent. Sam struggled with the issue of the pistol for a long time, until one day.


    That morning, he knew the boss was visiting a competing company, supposedly to present his idea of ??the possibility of flying at higher altitudes using an antigravity network that would connect to the aircraft''s belly. He knew the schedules of the other cleaners well and volunteered to be in charge of the top floor, closest to the bear''s den. Entering the most important office in the building was not difficult at all. The room next to it was intended for presentations on the screen, like a small cinema, and, for no apparent reason, it seemed, it had a ventilation vent connected to the targeted room.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    It looked extraordinary. A white pine table stood on a deer skin spilled to the wall on the north side. To the west were huge windows with grayish marble frames on which thorny roses were carved. Even the trash can was kitschy, with a crown rim. One would think that the rest of the room would be occupied by a TV set, but at the other end of the room, opposite the table, there were 3 closets, reaching to the ceiling. Two were full of books, and the central one was almost empty with only one frame containing a picture of an older smiling woman with a dog in her arms. A long nose and square glasses remained in memory.


    He assumed that the drawers of the desk would be the right place to keep various valuables, including that pistol. They were all unlocked, but the pistol was not found in any of them. The second time was luckier for him; he found it in the central closet, in a vertical drawer under the crystal frame. It was in a black metal locked briefcase, and the key was nowhere else but attached to the back of the frame. Yes, it was Sorran''s mother whom he loved immensely.


    But the pistol was like any other, nothing unique about it. Silver-colored, with a full magazine. He didn''t allow himself to linger further, so he carefully returned to the cinema room and took the premier prize with him.


    ..//..


    He slipped through the window and descended the stairs. He sat on his Honda SuperCub motorcycle and sped off to the library. He knew his brother met his girlfriend there every Tuesday.


    An interesting time for an introduction, he thought.


    After 14 minutes, he found himself in front of the library stairs. Two tall pencil-shaped columns supported the ceiling in front of the entrance. The chalk-white doors made of old maple carried iron chains and an interesting eagle-headed latch.


    They sat facing each other in the eastern wing of the library. As he approached, Rod was sipping white coffee while the unknown girl read the passage "At the time," from an old Rome history book. When she saw that he was standing stiffly behind his brother, she stopped reading, and Rod turned around confused and almost choked.


    "What are you doing here?" he asked.


    "Business, Rick, business," Sam said.


    At that moment, both of them found the situation unbelievable.


    "Interesting turn of events, don''t you think, brother?" Rod said, to which Sam nodded with a smile.


    He introduced his brother to Teri, his "friend," although both knew that his inevitable blushing gave him away. Samuel explained the situation to his brother ¨C that he had quit his job and came across some interesting information. While listening, Rodrick wasn''t surprised at all, and he had been waiting to find out what the real reason for employment at the company was. Although surprise wasn''t expressed, he was proud of his brother. He had always been his support, and that wouldn''t change.


    The chemistry between the "readers" was real. The doves had already tasted the holly, but that soup was for another week. Terrinola suggested a plan that both of them immediately liked.


    ..//..


    Unlike his brother, Sam didn''t adore school. Thoughts were briefly attached to his brain and would soon wander out like helium balloons through ear canals. The moment they touched the hairs in his ear and eagerly rushed out, they would be put into action.


    He wanted to be famous worldwide. To be renowned for his successes. Thinking about all the adventures awaiting him made him happier. It was as if just thinking spurred him to do something with his life.


    Refreshed with positive energy, after a short visit to his spiritual world, he decided to put his plan into action.


    Like everyone else in this capitalist world, he needed money. He wanted to build his "test ranch," where he would test different weapons with different ammunition. In a broader plan, he had a psycho-social test where he would prove to people that force against their kind leads to destruction and destruction only.


    To conduct the experiment, he had to gain enormous power over the people and their trust. He knew that people saw those they trusted as leaders and that they had the greatest influence on society. He also knew that people remember great heroes or unheard-of fools who tragically become victims.


    ..//..


    They believed in him, he knew what he was doing. He did his job well. He gained respect over his years of work. He loved his job, but more than anything, he loved his daughter. She was the reason for so much effort, his greatest inspiration, but also his greatest weakness.


    Throughout his life, he tried to weave all the knowledge and experience he believed would be useful in life into her. He cherished and nurtured her like a pearl oyster nurtures its pearl.


    She told him about her suspicions. She consulted with him. She presented him with a plan. She wanted to help her father, to save him from shame. To point out possible wrongdoings he unknowingly carried out during his work, thinking he was helping the community.


    ..//..


    She loved socializing and communication. Small things with great meaning. Bilateral written letters with the scent of chestnuts. She enjoyed a cup of white coffee while reading the daily news on her laptop. Going to work was a relief to her daily routine of obligations. Born in Tuscany, under the hot tile of the hospital, she announced herself with the first cry of the morning. Beating the rooster-shaped clocks, her time of birth was 5 seconds before 9.


    She worked as a translator of Spanish beauty forums into Italian. Her workplace was wherever she wanted it to be, but she often went to the Sayonara Library located at the corner of Ritrun¡¯s and Prosin¡¯s Street. Time spent there passed much faster than anywhere else; she called it the "quick goodbye phenomenon."


    Solitude didn''t bother her at all; she enjoyed it. She could indulge in her thoughts and focus on her work, and her days were short. Everyone in the neighborhood knew about this cheerful girl with flowing dresses. Even a perfume with a spring scent was named after her, "Terrinola."


    ..//..


    The mark on the gun was W041251R. They found out online that this mark didn''t actually refer to a gun but to an item in the global resource database. There was a bank where users deposited their items in safes for safekeeping. In the briefcase, under the sponge, they found a blue key of an unusual shape, resembling a guitar pick. They assumed that the key matched the lock of the safe where the secret "Ground Power" operation was hidden.


    They opened the cassette. Inside the rusty box where face cream used to be were a pair of earrings. Silver hooks held a lump of yellow gemstone wrapped in a greenish metal mesh. They still didn''t understand anything. Kon lifted the box to inspect the earrings better. Seeing the small cores in both lumps and tiny red particles in chaotic motion, he realized the true potential of this unique jewelry.


    "The absorptive capabilities of this compound are unimaginable! So much energy in such a small space, and even more could be!'''' he admired.


    He understood the reason for his six-month study of phosphorus pearls in high-temperature conditions. He understood the significance of his discovery of "endurium," a new element that possesses the ability to self-renew energy. He didn''t want to interfere further and "contribute" to the company''s development. He decided to quit his job and leave this problem in Sam''s hands.


    ..//..


    The small metal wheel was spinning in the cage. It was powered by a small, furry guinea pig that kept expending energy tirelessly. First, it would run continuously on the wheel as if preparing for a mini marathon, which was held every other year in Mice¡¯s town, and then, as a reward for its efforts, it would quickly go to its bowl of grains, pick a sunflower seed and, grabbing it with its tiny hands, greedily nibble on it.


    This tiny marathon runner was the pet of Dr. Brett Kon, a physicist who worked at the Green Trinity company. Brett spent most of his time in his underground laboratory working on various projects. Some of them involved the biomagnetic balance between living organisms, sometimes he was responsible for stabilizing chemical reactions aided by different forces, while other times, with cocoa biscuits and coffee, he simply studied the voltage relativity between different materials.


    Kon loved his job, he loved being financially secure, and he was satisfied with the role assigned to him by the company. The unknown in nature had always piqued his interest and sparked his curiosity. Like any other physicist, he had an assistant. Our assistant was Rodrick Jackson. It''s an interesting twist of fate that secured Rod''s job.


    Namely, Rodrick was a graduate chemist. Shortly after graduation, he set out in search of a job. One morning, as he was heading to a nearby caf¨¦ where he had planned to enjoy a pleasant morning with warm coffee in his hands and newspapers on the bar table, he noticed a scruffy man sitting on the garden bench, constantly sketching something in his large pad. Rod was naturally very curious, so he was now keen to find out what this stranger was fervently illustrating. For a moment, he forgot about his perfect morning and approached the man.


    The seated man was carefully observing a white rat, gnawing on a moldy twig, and a black magpie, which was cleverly observing the long-tailed youngster, and then vigorously sketching the imagined impulses coming from the directions of these two animals and intersecting somewhere in the middle. The thinker noticed that the magpie was watching the rat very indifferently as if his twig entertainment was amusing to her.


    Rodrick felt like he had broken some barrier, approaching the man and asking him to explain his actions, as the old man at that moment seemed to snap out of a trance or coma. Jackson initially thought he had provoked the wrath of the peaceful observer; however, unable to remember all the details of the distant past, it seemed to him that the conversation flowed naturally, like a jet of cold, mountain water from a spring.


    After a brief introduction and exchange of interesting anecdotes and life experiences, Rod managed to coax arched lips out of the gray physicist. Seeing mutual benefit ¨C in terms of assistance with various experiments of a chemical nature, the physicist offered Rod a job, and there he was, after twelve incredible years, in this same white laboratory.


    ..//..


    Now, another problem presented itself before Sam: how to leverage this situation to his advantage, to obtain money, and to bring the granite to the scientific sector, where he knew it would certainly help the whole world, not just one individual. He knew he would have to blackmail the leader and get the money, and while he was thinking about it, a fantastic idea popped into his mind that would work multifunctionally.


    He got to work and organized the whole scene, envisioning the outcome of each situation and training the actors who were yet to perform. He wanted the news of his deed to spread faster than dandelion seeds in a field full of them. Except the news wouldn''t be good.


    He "kidnapped" Teri. Brett knew absolutely nothing about their plan. Rod told Kon that his brother abducted her out of anger because he hadn''t told him about the "other secret operations" of the company, and that was true, Rodrick truly didn''t know about any operations.


    The physicist agreed that, although he no longer did business with them, he didn''t believe that any additional secret actions were taking place in that company. He was very angry and went to seek help from his former boss, deciding to tell him everything.


    Sam and the bald one agreed on the exchange. One dressed in a green linen suit with a white, red-polka-dotted bowtie and small pointed crocodile skin shoes. The other was in leather boots with bulldog embossing and a black hat from which a metal tassel in the shape of a chain hangs. The checkered red shirt screamed of misfortune. They both knew what to expect, and they both knew how the encounter would end.


    ..//..


    The next morning, the city buzzed with the same news:


    DOTTED KILLER KIDNAPPED GIRL


    YOUNG MAN FOUND DEAD IN SHED WITH GIRL


    A BURNED CAR FOUND NEAR THE CRIME SCENE


    UNCLEAR CRIME LEAVES CITIZENS OF PRUTON IN SHOCK


    The entire incident gradually became old news until it was completely forgotten after one dance of the moon around the Earth.


    It was found that a fresh corpse was stolen from the morgue a few hours before the "murder", but this information never saw the light of day. The corrupt police removed the car after the accident to destroy all evidence. The gremlin couldn''t allow even the slightest chance of the existence of the incredible granite being discovered.


    The day after the "incredible circumstances", he passed away in his chair, slumped against the white pine. The cause of death was determined to be the corrosive effects of the caustic soda he swallowed dissolved in his white tea. The police found a ventilation cover in the corner of the room leaning against the wall.


    After a detailed, months-long search, Teri walked into the building of the environmental company "Green Land" together with Rod. That day she wore exceptionally sparkling earrings. After leaving, they headed to the street, where a red 1956 Cadillac Series 66 awaited them with a song echoing down the main street. It was the randomly chosen "Hola" by Hermanos Rosa.


    The smiling couple settled into comfortable leather seats. The tires gently skidded on the asphalt, and the driver spoke up:


    "Did I ever tell you how I saved money for this beauty?"


    They wanted to respond, but he continued:


    "I heard something ticking in the back seat in a nice sports bag. The car at the time needed vacuuming, so I pulled out two magical beans to help me remove the dirt. I vacuumed all the sound with a vacuum, only a faint squeak could be heard, and a little dust came out of the bag. Magical, you wouldn''t believe it, right hehe?"


    "Explosively good!" they replied, well-rehearsed, as they drove to their new cottage.

 #7 Dont Stop Laughing

    A group of twenty-two gathered, ready for a new adventure. They chose their guides, Damon and Kefy. The two of them needed to decide where to go and what to explore. Kefy mentioned that someone had brought a mysterious book of secret magical doors.


    "I got it from my grandmother," Reino began, "and she got it from her grandmother. She told me to study it well and by no means get into trouble. Because this book is full of it. This is a very dark book. Full of dark magic. It reveals mysterious gates leading to never-before-discovered worlds. It''s enough that our world is full of all kinds of secrets. You can imagine what secrets unknown worlds hold. It''s unimaginable."


    It was decided. Despite objections from the book''s owner, they would seek out a gate and embark on a mysterious adventure. They came across an interesting name, "Levitating Dream." It sounded quite enticing. They had to try. The key to enter wasn''t too demanding; all they needed were Japanese mushrooms hakitake. One bite would be enough to allow their minds to travel. Because these journeys weren''t on a physical level. But the mind can also die, and then the body shuts down when the soul has nowhere left to reside.


    The Japanese imported products store, "Sinamaku." They bit into them one by one, eagerly awaiting the next turn of events with impatient expressions. The box of mushrooms stated that they should sit in pairs, leaning back against each other. Because, in the end, they would be unconscious, left to their minds which usually were in chaos. And so they fell asleep, changing their brain waves and starting to stride toward a big pink door.


    And they just floated there, in the middle of a green-white medium without air. They knew there was none because their lungs weren''t working. The door was locked. Reino mentioned that each person needed to imagine their greatest fear or moment of greatest happiness; only the strongest feelings of joy or fear could lead the mind through the gate to another world.


    And so people imagined carefree play with fluffy, plush penguins on a soft carpet, bites of giant tarantulas on the neck, changing colorful hats in a store in front of a mirror, running away from ghosts who ruthlessly broke knees, cheerful family gatherings with constant changes caused by not so funny jokes from an uncle, opening the head with a circular saw, and so on. A multitude of horror and joy found itself in one mental place, in front of the large, unattainably high pink door that slowly opened after each strong expression of pleasure or fear.


    After the last member of the fearless adrenaline-seeking team, the wind started blowing from nowhere, and some suction force pulled them through the door. And on the other side was a chasm. They landed on their backsides, but they didn''t feel pain. They looked up at the now floating orange door. Someone from the group quietly wondered why the color was different, and someone else loudly wondered how they would return when their adrenaline ride came to an end.


    Damon said it wasn''t the most important question at the moment, because in front of them was an infinitely wide bloody river. The problem was that heat was visibly rising from it and it completely surrounded them, making them feel like an island surrounded by endless salty water. Luckily, none of the members felt thirsty. Or hungry. But fear had completely overwhelmed them.


    However, hope didn''t fail them this time either, because they saw a bridge, which actually didn''t make sense because the river was so wide that it couldn''t be grasped by sight. The bridge was narrow, just wide enough for one person to pass sideways, and it seemed to break somewhere in the distance. They walked along it for a long time, and when they looked back, they saw only a bridge disappearing intermittently in the mist. After half an hour, they passed through an invisible frame that continued into a cave. Before them were now two carved paths leading into darkness. The large group decided to split up and with their guides explore both parts.


    Damon''s group went left, and Kefy''s went right, both into the unknown. Damon went first and after a few moments saw a strange light floating in the darkness around the bend. Shortly after, all eleven of them heard strange howls, resembling those of an injured dog, coming from the direction of the light. Reino mentioned that they could be "Levitating Wraiths," a type of possessive spirits that attach themselves to a person and don''t let go until death. The only defense, as she read, was constant laughter.


    So they had to laugh incessantly, no matter how much their hearts tried to escape their chests, their thunderous laughter had to echo off the cave walls. And so, with forced, loud laughter, they passed by a multitude of floating creatures with shiny green skin resembling tree bark, with yellow headlights instead of eyes, who didn''t stop howling. However, somehow they managed to get through that evil.


    Soon, to the great joy of the terrified members of Damon''s team, they met Kefy''s team, so without any delay, they retold the incredible event they had survived. Some in the group joked that, although not possessed by howling spirits, that experience would undoubtedly haunt them every day from the moment they opened their eyelids to the moment they closed them for the last time. Kefy, with pleasant surprise, announced that nobody bothered them in their passage and hoped they would soon find a way out of that cursed cave. It was enough for her to hear that horrible story from the neighboring group; she didn''t need to experience it.


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    However, after a few dozen meters of passage through the cave, the large group encountered another fork. This time, three paths were offered. They debated whether it might be unnecessary to split up again, as they could end up at the same destination upon exiting, so they decided to all take the same path together. They played a game to decide which path to take where they arranged three stones under which they placed colorful buttons that one of the members had been carrying in their pocket. The red button brought victory.


    Thus, they started left, again into the unknown. As they walked, people commented that this new "adventure" of theirs might be unnecessary and definitely life-threatening, and they regretted not following the advice of Reino''s grandmother and great-grandmother. Their lament was interrupted by a sudden earthquake that caused stalactites with sharp tips to fall on them, where people feared at every moment they would be pierced like a dartboard.


    After several falls of these stony spikes, one member, Simon, noticed that this supposedly natural phenomenon contained nothing natural about it because with each fall of the spike, behind the hole left behind appeared a strange, dwarf-like creature, all knotted up on its face, which seemed to throw spikes at them. And that was true because the stalactites fell nowhere else but where the members were standing. Obviously, someone wanted to pierce them.


    Fortunately, they came across a shelter under which they squeezed and crouched, waiting anxiously for the end of their hell in that unexplored world about which they all regretted. Reino mumbled that she saw a section with similar creatures somewhere, so she seized the opportunity to leaf through her grimoire and find, she hoped, a defense against these deadly darts players. She was right.


    She came across the "Zoroses," cave creatures from the world of "Ongorazi," who were absolutely always very hostile to any stranger who entered their home. It also mentioned their territorial defense, as they were, allegedly, still "shy creatures," pelting opponents with stones and anything else they could grab from their nearest surroundings. Unfortunately, there was no mention of their weakness. They decided that their only way out was to run headlong. After a bombastic journey through the aerial minefield, sixteen of them alive reached the exit from this inhospitable cave from the world of Ongorazi.


    They found themselves on barren, rocky ground, on a vast plain that contained not a single plant, let alone an animal. It seemed that the sixteen of them were the only living creatures there. Breathless and bewildered, they had no time to think about the demise of their fellow members, because suddenly, in front of them, two stone pillars emerged from the ground, one with a red and the other with a purple gemstone on top.


    They didn''t stay in the dark for long, as Reino unraveled the strange sight they witnessed. Namely, these two pillars represented the end of this world, with the possibilities offered by two gemstones. The red one offered an unforgettable dive into the boiling, bloody river over which they had crossed on that bridge disappearing into the distance, while the purple one offered a safe return home.


    After explaining the situation of choice, Reina unexpectedly squeezed the red gem, and at the same moment disappeared from the view of the remaining fifteen members. None of them were aware that, while they were clicking the purple gem and safely teleporting back to their beds in their homes, they would lose the memory they had gained in that world.


    Reina omitted to tell them that she had cunningly lured them to this particular world, pretending innocently from the beginning that she didn''t want them to come here. She was aware that she had chosen people who suited her needs perfectly ¨C daredevil adventurers with a whirlwind in their skulls.


    She presented them with an interesting bait ¨C the grimoire she had brought with her, all the while knowing about the dangers lurking in the cave of death, and hoping that everyone would surely choose the option to return home safely. How surprised she was when Damon and Simon, along with some other members of the group, decided to see what had happened to Reino and for what reason she had so suddenly and seemingly thoughtlessly chosen the red option, so they chose the red gem.


    They materialized under the red river and watched Reino embrace a hefty round chest. They ran to her and snatched it from her hands. She yelled and cursed them, grabbed her book, and began reciting strange words like a song. Several people began to fall like candles until Simon kicked her in the head and she hit the wall.


    As she lay dead near the wall, Damon, Simon, Gorg, Jokvi, and Israela opened the grimoire and searched for an explanation for six glass bottles filled with orange liquid standing in the recesses of the round chest. They flipped through the book for an hour, but couldn''t find any explanation for the mysterious bottles.


    And then, the originally dead Reino sat up and tried to sneak up on them from behind. Gorg spotted her, knocked her down to the ground, and chopped off her head with the spade he always carried by his waist. Then hidden ink began to appear in the book on a previously blank page. They looked at the headless Reino''s body and watched with their eyes how, at an abnormal speed, she aged, shrunk, lost fat and agility, the hair on her head turned white, and the face wrinkled unrecognizably.


    Once young and beautiful Reino had now become an old granny!


    In the ink, it said:


    "Mix two doses with three pinches of basil and bring it to a boil. Add nine light-pink rose petals and stir gently. Drink in one gulp. Restores vitality, blush, and shine, as well as hormonal balance. Duration of the effect: ten years."


    At the very bottom, in the corner, a faint title could be seen, "Elixir of Youth."


    Then they realized that Reino''s great-grandmother and grandmother had actually been her all along; that the grimoire was hers; and worst of all, that for decades she had lured and killed people to get hold of the elixir of youth.

 #8 Sparkle Behind Closed Eyelids

    "And then, after she chased after him, the real magic happened¡ªthousands of colorful butterflies burst forth behind her like magical powder, each flying in their own direction. In the end, she caught up to him, opened his hand, and placed a plastic heart-shaped lump inside to forever protect him. He clenched his fist and exhaled, and she grabbed his other hand and led him back with her.


    They realized that making mistakes was an inevitable part of life. Forgiveness, though not easy, was the healthiest way to heal a foolish, rash wound that had to happen. He kissed her on the corner of her lips, and then they lay down on the grass to watch the meteor shower. At that moment, she didn''t have a single wish in her head. She didn''t need anything else in life.


    And he fervently prayed that that moment would never disappear, that it would freeze in the flurry of happiness, in the warmth of thoughts and the understanding of the insignificance of human life compared to the universe. And so they remained together, eternally sealed in this snow globe, on this warm July night. Now you keep their secret and hope that they don''t fall into oblivion and that their story never ends."


    "I like it, Daddy, thank you so much! Let me warm it up before you put it on the shelf," ten-year-old Sandy said.


    "Here you go, help yourself. Although the purity of your heart already reaches my hands from there, I know they''re surely already glad and warm," the father said.


    She gazed at the round piece of glass. She saw a tiny darkness on the roof of the small pink house. The darkness of the chimney. And then she felt something pulling her with serious force until it sucked her into the globe, through the chimney. She was falling for a long time, feeling grit and dirt around her. The air was dry, if that thing around her could even be called air. Finally, she found herself on the parquet floor, coughing and spitting out dark smoke. Her cheeks were smeared with soot, her hair disheveled, without the bow, which she must have lost along the way.


    There was no one in the house. This cottage could more aptly be called a room than a house. She got up to take a walk and explore the shack. It contained a corner with a kitchen, a fireplace, and two armchairs with a small table between them. There was a lit candle on the table, not much left of it, maybe another half hour, maybe less, and it would burn out. She knew she had felt cold when she had been ¡°descending¡± down the chimney, but now she was starting to feel hot. She felt it mostly on her scalp and back.


    She turned around and saw that the fireplace was now blazing with a bright orange fire. She didn''t understand what was happening. She opened the door and realized that it was nighttime. Strange, round snow was falling. She stretched out her hand to feel the flakes and saw that they didn''t have their usual shape. They were round. And they didn''t melt. Like pieces of Styrofoam. Soft, flexible. Fake.


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    What''s happening, she thought. Did I end up in the cottage from the snow globe? No... This must be a dream. Yes! I must have fallen asleep, there''s no other explanation! Hmm... But why am I suddenly so hot?


    Irritated, feeling helpless, she ran outside and began to slap her cheeks, to pinch and hit herself, doing all that in the hope of waking up from the dream. But nothing special, except for the pain she felt doing it, happened. She returned hopelessly inside. The fireplace had burned out, and only a thin smoke was seeping up the chimney. And the candle... She screamed when she saw the flame of the candle rising to the ceiling and starting to blacken the roof of the cottage.


    The candle was burning out quite fast, and at the same time, she felt an inexplicable pain spreading from her neck to her shoulders, all along her spine. She fell to her knees and banged her face on the parquet. She started shaking as if in shock, hugging her knees, curled up on the threshold of the wooden cottage from her snow globe which she had just warmed with her palms in her bed. And then the capillaries in her eyes swelled, her neck swelled, and then she let out a final cry, after which the spasms subsided.


    <u>15 minutes earlier</u>


    "Sandy, can you hear me? Sandy, sweetheart?! Wake up!" the father rushed to the phone and called an ambulance.


    Then he returned and put his hand on her forehead. She was burning with fever. She started talking in her sleep:


    "What''s happening? No! No!!" she screamed.


    Convulsions began. Prominent veins appeared on her forehead from the effort. Foam came out of her mouth. The bed beneath her was wet within a few minutes. She tossed her head back and forth, hitting it against the pillow. The father cried and comforted her.


    "Everything will be fine, pumpkin, just hold on! Help is on the way! Everything will be fine, do you hear me?!"


    Then her neck swelled and prevented air from reaching her lungs. She started to choke. He watched, helpless, as his daughter fought for air.


    And then everything fell silent.


    She stopped twitching.


    Foam dripped from the corner of her mouth.


    She lay lifelessly, drenched in cold sweat.


    The father, with a monotone line that represented his lips, walked to the dining room, took the hunting shotgun from the closet, and inserted a cartridge with buckshot inside.


    The medical team from the emergency hurriedly approached the door of the house. They knocked on the door, and shortly after they heard a deafening gunshot. They burst in and saw the father lying in bed with his dead daughter. At first, they weren''t sure it was him, as half of his face was disfigured.


    "Daddy, come see what I made!"


    When he approached, she told him to close his eyes.


    "Stretch out your hand. Here you go, this is for you. Wait. Mom! Close your eyes and stretch out your hand. Here you go, Mom, this is for you. Now both of you open your eyes!"


    The happy parents looked at the tiny plastic lumps in green and pink heart shapes, directed their gazes at each other, and kissed.


    "Come here, little one, come to us."


    And so the happy family spent a magical moment in each other''s arms, by the wooden table where three identical candles were burning endlessly, in a small wooden cottage where real snow was falling, with real snowflakes.

 #9 Mark and the Circle

    Once upon a time, in a peaceful village officially named "Circle," lived a boy named Mark. Mark was a dreamer, always enchanted by the wonders hidden in the world around him. But above all, he was captivated by bicycles.


    Every day, after finishing school, Mark would rush to the local bike shop, where he would gaze in awe at the latest models of bicycles. He was fascinated by the speed, elegance, and freedom that cycling offered. However, Mark''s family didn''t have enough money to buy him a bicycle.


    One day, while walking past an abandoned mill in the nearby forest, Mark noticed something shiny in the grass. It was an old, rusty bicycle wheel, hidden among the leaves and branches. Mark was thrilled. He immediately began to fantasize about how he could restore the wheel and create his own bicycle.


    With the passion and perseverance that defined his character, Mark began to collect the parts and tools he needed. Day and night, he worked in the old mill, turning the rusty wheel into a marvel of engineering. When he finally finished, he had created a magical bike, unique and extraordinary like himself.


    His bike, named "Worldview," became the main attraction in the village. Mark became known as the boy whose imagination surpassed the boundaries of reality. Traveling on his bike, he explored every corner of the world, proving that dreams can indeed become reality if we believe in them.


    And so Mark learned that freedom isn''t just in the speed and elegance of a bicycle but also in the strength of will and belief in one''s own dreams.


    Bicycle, my ass! Here''s what really happened.


    In the quiet village of Circle, peace was a foreign concept. Instead, it was notorious for the rebellious behavior of drunken villagers, and the sexual assault of women and young girls. Named Circle for the malicious enchanted vortex of nothingness where the villagers lived, they woke at noon, angrily beat their wives and children, then went to the Dark Tavern where they drank until the wee hours. There, they harassed singers and waitresses, incited fights, and smashed beer bottles over each other''s heads. There was no peace in that village. Perhaps they would have been peaceful for a while after beating their children and wives when they woke up, if they felt remorse for hitting them in the same spots where bruises were supposed to pop up.


    Next, Mark was a daydreamer, but only because every night he had nightmares that woke him up in pools of sweat. He twitched and whimpered, unconsciously replaying images in his head of his father kicking his mother at the table after she refused to sleep with him. Mark didn''t dream of bikes and the wonders of the world; he dreamt of how he would beat up his father when he grew up and kill the cops who were constantly bribed by thugs in the village, so they turned a blind eye to every inconvenience.


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    Mark had a small bike as a child, a tricycle, but he didn''t ride it much because his father smashed and twisted it at one point, throwing it through the window onto the cobblestone street, after Mark refused to stop crying. His mother had tried to protect the child, but received vicious blows to the stomach. Four-year-old Mark saw it all, and such traumatic events, and many after that, definitely left a mark on his psyche and led to constant nightmares that prevented him from sleeping peacefully.


    One day, a few weeks after the incident, his mother tried to run away from home with Mark, but neighbor Nate prevented her from doing so and informed the father, after which she was not seen outside the house for months, and after a few months was seen with crutches and broken knees.


    Mark didn''t rush to the bike shop every day to stare at wheels, but he looked at the shop next door, the gun store, eagerly awaiting the moment when he would come of age and be able to hold a revolver, like the plastic model from the storefront. How did he know it was plastic? Well, there was one incident when he was sixteen, when one night he smashed the glass and tried to steal a revolver from the storefront, and after realizing it was a plastic replica, he was deeply disappointed. The next morning, he received a spanking he would remember for the rest of his life. He couldn''t sit upright for two weeks because his pelvic bones were very painful and swollen. He had to sit on cushions all the time, and even then it would be painful.


    Finally, Mark didn''t find any bad wheel in the grass. He found an old, rusty scythe. He sharpened it well at his friend''s sharpening stone and slaughtered his father after a few days. No Mark''s bicycle became an attraction in the village, but Mark himself, after the whole village found out about him being locked up. He was sentenced to fifteen years because he was still a minor, and his mother visited him until the last day spent in prison.


    After he got out, he was thirty-three years old. Before leaving prison, for years he had devised detailed escape and revenge plans, including all possible variables he could remember. Every day, his mother would inform him of news and events from the village. He robbed a jewelry store, killed three cops who were closest to his father, and escaped from the village. His mother stayed in the old house, and there were rumors that the mailman occasionally delivered letters from faraway Finland. And so Mark learned that freedom isn''t just in the speed and elegance of escape, but also in the strength of will and belief in one''s own dreams.

 #10 Spiderweb of Darkness

    Carlos was an ordinary guy whose days often passed in the shadow of the walls of the local store known for its American brands. Through the window, he often watched the sunlight playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds, while he mopped the floors, surrendering to the monotony of everyday life. He was a quiet and diligent lad, always striving to fulfill his duties to the best of his ability.


    However, as he was wiping the floors one cloudy day, little did he know that he would face his greatest fear. Walking through narrow aisles filled with merchandise, he inadvertently turned into a small corner where he found an old wooden door leading to the warehouse. There, in the darkness that swallowed the light, he was confronted with something that shocked and terrified him. On the wall, as if emerging from the darkness of the warehouse itself, there was a cobweb, black and unusually dense. At first glance, it looked like any other, but something in that sight made Carlos pause and shudder.


    He thought it was just a product of his imagination, but he couldn''t resist the feeling that something was wrong. He decided to seek help, but before he could react, a customer entered.


    The customer who entered the store was tall and muscular, with dark eyes that sparkled like stars in the night sky. His smile was a warm greeting that immediately caught Carlos''s attention. Every movement was graceful, almost as if he were dancing through the room while carefully choosing products.


    "Good day," said the customer, his voice echoing like a musical note in the silence of the store.


    Carlos responded in the same tone, but he couldn''t hide his unease. "Good day. Can you help me?" he asked, pointing to the growing cobweb on the wall.


    The customer looked in the direction of the cobweb and briefly smiled. "Ah, it''s just a cobweb. Nothing to worry about," he said, but his voice carried something deeper, something that left Carlos in doubt. As Carlos carefully watched his expression, he noticed a hint of something mysterious in the stranger''s dark eyes, as if they were hiding deep wisdom or something even darker.


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    "You know, some say that a cobweb can be a sign of something more," Carlos spoke softly, feeling discomfort creeping into his throat.


    The customer nodded, but his smile didn''t fade. "Sometimes, things are just as they seem," he replied, his voice reaching like a whisper of wind.


    As the conversation struggled to continue, Carlos noticed something unusual about the customer. His eyes sparkled in a special way, like stars shining through thick clouds, while the smile on his lips revealed teeth that seemed sharper than they should be. It was a feeling as if something hidden lay beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity to emerge. Carlos felt a chill running through his body, but he decided to refrain from further conversation, restraining his fear and trying to maintain normalcy.


    When the customer finally left, leaving Carlos to face his thoughts, the young worker felt relieved. However, that feeling didn''t last long. As he began to mop the floors again, he realized that reality might be much stranger than he had ever imagined. The cobweb on the wall was not an ordinary cobweb, and the customer who passed through the door was not an ordinary customer. There was something elusive in that encounter, something that left a mark on Carlos''s subconscious, making him wonder what was really true and what was just a product of his imagination.

 #11 A Librarian and His Soulmate

    In the heart of the ancient library, where the scent of leather-bound tomes mingled with the hushed whispers of knowledge seekers, Carlos found himself lost in the labyrinth of forgotten tales. Surrounded by towering shelves adorned with dusty volumes, he moved with a sense of purpose, his fingers tracing the spines of books untouched by time.


    As the sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the worn wooden floor, Carlos felt a sense of reverence for the knowledge that lay hidden within these walls. For him, the library was more than a place of study; it was a sanctuary where the past and present converged, where the wisdom of ages past whispered secrets yet untold.


    With each step, Carlos found himself drawn deeper into the labyrinth of knowledge, his curiosity piqued by the mysteries that lay waiting to be uncovered. And as he wandered through the aisles of forgotten lore, he could not shake the feeling that his destiny was intertwined with the ancient tomes that surrounded him.


    Little did Carlos know that within the shadowy recesses of the library''s archives, a tale of magic and destiny awaited, a tale that would set him on a path beyond the confines of time itself. As he reached out to touch the spine of yet another forgotten volume, he  felt a tingle of anticipation, a whisper of fate that beckoned him towards his true calling.


    The sunlight streamed in through the dusty window, casting long, jagged shadows across the cramped and cluttered room. The air was thick with the musty scent of old paper and damp wood, and an eerie silence hung heavy in the air, interrupted only by the occasional creak of a rusty hinge or the distant murmur of voices from the bustling street outside. The walls were lined with countless leather-bound books, their spines cracked and faded from years of neglect, their pages yellowed and crumbling under the touch.


    Carlos, a young, inexperienced librarian, had been tasked with cataloging the library''s newest acquisition: a mysterious, ancient tome that had been found hidden away in the depths of the library''s forgotten archives. As he carefully opened the book, a cloud of dust billowed out, making his eyes water and his throat itch. The pages were made of an unknown material, thicker and more resilient than parchment, and they were inscribed with strange, arcane symbols that Carlos could not begin to decipher.


    As he turned the pages, he noticed that the book seemed to be a collection of stories, each more bizarre and fantastical than the last. The first story was about a young traveler who ventured into a dark and foreboding forest, only to discover a hidden village populated by creatures that defied the laws of nature. The second tale told of a powerful sorcerer who had been cursed to live an eternal existence, doomed to watch as his loved ones grew old and died around him.


    Carlos''s curiosity piqued, he continued to read, becoming more and more absorbed in the stories. He began to lose track of time, not realizing that the sun had set and the moon had risen until the library''s ancient clock chimed midnight. As he reached the final page, he was startled to find that the last story was about a young woman who, like himself, had been entrusted with a mysterious tome. The woman''s story ended abruptly, as if the author had been cut off mid-sentence.


    The air in the room seemed to grow heavy, and Carlos felt a chill run down his spine. He looked around, half-expecting to see something lurking in the shadows, but the library was as still and quiet as ever. As he shut the book with a quiet click, he couldn''t shake the feeling that the stories had somehow come alive, that they were warning him of something he couldn''t quite understand. With a shudder, he placed the ancient tome back on its dusty shelf, promising himself that he wouldn''t return to it again.


    However, his resolve proved futile as the allure of its mysteries continued to tug at his thoughts, like an invisible thread weaving its way through his mind.


    With a hesitant hand, Carlos reached out to touch the worn cover of the ancient tome once more. As his fingers brushed against the rough surface, he felt a strange warmth emanating from within, as if the book itself held secrets waiting to be unraveled.


    His curiosity burning brighter than ever, Carlos opened the book once more, his eyes scanning the pages in search of any clues about the mysterious woman and her connection to the tome. The words seemed to dance before his eyes, the stories weaving together in a tapestry of wonder and intrigue.


    And then, he found it - a passage hidden within the depths of the book, written in a delicate script that seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the library. It spoke of a prophecy, of a chosen one destined to wield the power of the Chronosphere and protect the fabric of time itself.


    As Carlos read on, his heart raced with anticipation. Could it be that the young woman from the final story was the key to unlocking the mysteries of the ancient tome? Was she the one fated to stand by his side in the battle against darkness and chaos?


    With newfound determination, Carlos set out to uncover the truth behind the woman''s story, knowing that the answers he sought lay hidden within the pages of the ancient tome. And as he delved deeper into the secrets of the past, he could only wonder what trials and tribulations awaited him on the path to discovering his true destiny.


    The following days passed uneventfully, and Carlos tried to put the strange experience behind him. He continued his work in the library, cataloging books and shelving them, occasionally catching glimpses of the ancient tome from the corner of his eye. One evening, as he was about to close up for the night, he heard a soft rustling coming from the shadows. Fear gripping him, he spun around, expecting to see whatever it was that had been haunting him since he''d read the stories.


    Instead, a small, delicate hand emerged from the darkness, beckoning him closer. As he hesitantly approached, the figure stepped out of the shadows. It was the woman from the final story, her presence emanating an otherworldly aura that seemed to command the very air around her. Her pale skin, almost translucent in the dim light, glowed faintly, as if infused with an ethereal energy. Her eyes, deep pools of darkness, held a wisdom that seemed to span centuries, yet they also gleamed with a hint of mischief, as if she held secrets known only to her.


    She held out a hand, the gesture graceful yet laden with significance, offering him the missing page from the book. "It is time for you to know the truth," she whispered, her voice carrying an echo of the ages, a resonance that seemed to vibrate through the very fabric of reality itself. There was an urgency in her tone, a sense of importance that transcended the words she spoke.


    As Carlos reached out to accept the page, he felt a tingling sensation course through his fingertips, as if the very essence of the story was flowing into him, intertwining with his own existence. He looked into her eyes, searching for answers, but found only enigmatic depths that hinted at a vast and unknowable universe beyond.


    With a solemn nod, Carlos took the page, his mind buzzing with questions yet strangely calm, as if a piece of a puzzle long forgotten had finally fallen into place. He knew that whatever truths lay hidden within the pages of the ancient tome, they would irrevocably alter the course of his destiny, propelling him into a world of mystery and magic beyond his wildest imagination.


    Carlos reached out, taking the page with trembling fingers. As he unfolded it, he saw that the missing section of the story was about a powerful artifact, hidden away in the library for centuries. The artifact, known as the Chronosphere, had the power to control time itself. The woman warned him that with such power came great responsibility, and that the fates of worlds rested upon his shoulders. As he finished reading, she disappeared once more into the shadows, leaving him alone with the weight of knowledge and the burden of destiny.


    Days turned into weeks, and Carlos found himself consumed by the memory of the mysterious woman and her cryptic message. As he went about his daily tasks in the library, his thoughts often drifted back to her, wondering about the significance of her appearance and the truths she had hinted at.


    Night after night, Carlos was plagued by strange dreams, visions that seemed to blur the line between reality and fantasy. In these dreams, he found himself standing at the threshold of time itself, witnessing events that had not yet come to pass. Scenes of joy and sorrow, triumph and tragedy flashed before his eyes, leaving him with a sense of urgency and a deep-seated desire to unravel the mysteries that surrounded him.


    Driven by an insatiable curiosity and a growing sense of duty, Carlos knew that he had to find the woman from the story. He believed that she held the key to unlocking the secrets of the Chronosphere and understanding its true purpose. With each passing day, his determination grew stronger, fueling his quest for knowledge and guiding him towards his destiny.


    Armed with nothing but his resolve and a thirst for truth, Carlos embarked on a journey into the unknown, venturing beyond the confines of the library walls in search of the elusive woman and the answers she held. He knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but he also knew that he could not rest until he had uncovered the secrets of the Chronosphere and learned to wield its power for the greater good.


    One night, drawn by an inexplicable force, Carlos found himself wandering through the labyrinthine corridors of the library''s forgotten archives. The air hung heavy with the scent of ancient parchment and dust, and the only sound was the echo of his footsteps against the cold stone floor.


    As he passed row after row of weathered tomes and crumbling scrolls, his eyes caught sight of a faded tapestry, its colors dulled by time and neglect. Intrigued, Carlos approached and reached out to touch the fabric, his fingers grazing the coarse threads with a sense of anticipation.


    To his surprise, the tapestry yielded beneath his touch, revealing a hidden doorway that had remained concealed for centuries. With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, Carlos stepped through the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest as he entered the secret chamber beyond.


    The chamber was bathed in an otherworldly glow, emanating from the center of the room where the Chronosphere stood, suspended in mid-air like a beacon of power and possibility. Its surface shimmered with an ethereal light, pulsing with a rhythm that seemed to resonate deep within Carlos''s soul.


    The chamber exuded an aura of ancient mystique, its walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of long-forgotten lore. As Carlos stepped into the heart of the room, he was engulfed in an ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from the very essence of the Chronosphere itself.


    The air crackled with energy, sending shivers down his spine as he gazed upon the artifact suspended before him. The Chronosphere hung in the center of the chamber, bathed in a radiant light that danced across its surface like liquid fire. Each ripple and pulse seemed to ripple outward, casting shifting shadows that danced along the walls like phantoms of the past.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, casting hues of azure and violet that captivated the eye. Each pulse of light pulsed with a rhythm that resonated deep within Carlos''s soul, beckoning him closer with an irresistible allure.


    As he approached, he could feel the power of the Chronosphere pulsating through the very air around him, filling him with a sense of awe and wonder. It was as if the artifact held the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe itself, offering a glimpse into the infinite possibilities that lay beyond the veil of reality.


    As he approached the Chronosphere, Carlos felt a strange sensation wash over him, a tingling warmth that spread from his fingertips to the very core of his being. It was as if the artifact was calling out to him, recognizing him as its chosen wielder and granting him access to its boundless power.


    With each step he took, Carlos felt a sense of purpose and clarity wash over him, banishing any doubts or fears that had lingered in his mind. He knew, with a certainty that bordered on divine revelation, that he had been destined for this moment, chosen to wield the Chronosphere and shape the course of history itself.


    As he reached out to touch the artifact, Carlos felt a surge of energy course through him, filling him with a sense of strength and resolve that he had never known before. With a steady hand, he grasped the Chronosphere, feeling its power hum beneath his touch, and knew that his journey had only just begun.


    With a deep breath, Carlos reached out and grasped the artifact, feeling its pulsating energy course through him like a torrential river. In that moment, the boundaries of reality seemed to blur, and the world around him began to shift and warp, as if time itself was bending to his will. Colors swirled and danced before his closed eyes, and he felt a profound sense of connection to the universe, as if every moment in time was laid bare before him.


    Amidst the swirling chaos, a figure materialized before him ¨C the woman from the story, her presence both comforting and awe-inspiring. Her form radiated an aura of ancient wisdom and quiet strength, her eyes shimmering with the weight of countless years.


    "You must use your power wisely, Carlos," she spoke, her voice a gentle melody amidst the cacophony of swirling energies. "The Chronosphere grants you the ability to shape the very fabric of existence, to alter the course of history itself. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility."


    Carlos nodded, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. He understood the gravity of the woman''s words, the weight of the burden that had been placed upon his shoulders. The Chronosphere was a tool of unimaginable power, capable of reshaping the destiny of nations and civilizations. But he knew that wielding such power required wisdom, compassion, and a steadfast dedication to the greater good.


    "I will not forget," Carlos vowed, his voice trembling with determination. "I will use this power to protect and uplift those in need, to guide humanity towards a brighter future."


    The woman smiled, a gesture suffused with warmth and approval. "Then go forth, Carlos," she said, her voice echoing in the depths of his soul. "Embrace your destiny, and may your actions be guided by the light of truth and compassion."


    With a final nod of farewell, the woman dissolved into the swirling energies around him, leaving Carlos alone amidst the shifting currents of time. As he opened his eyes, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and resolve coursing through his veins. With the power of the Chronosphere at his command, he knew that he had the ability to shape the destiny of worlds ¨C and he would do so with courage, humility, and unwavering resolve.


    The years passed, and Carlos became a legend among his people, known as the Keeper of Time. He used his powers to guide his people through dark times, to protect them from harm and to ensure that they always had a bright future ahead of them. But he never forgot the woman from the story, and he never forgot the weight of responsibility that came with wielding the Chronosphere. He knew that he was not alone in the world, that there were others like him who bore the burden of destiny, and that together, they could shape the course of history for generations to come.


    Carlos''s reign as the Keeper of Time was marked by wisdom, compassion, and unwavering dedication to his people. He became a symbol of hope, a beacon of light in the darkness, and his legend grew far beyond the borders of his homeland. Scholars and sages from across the globe came to study under him, seeking to understand the mysteries of the Chronosphere and to learn from his example.


    As the centuries passed, Carlos aged, but his spirit remained as strong and vibrant as ever. He continued to guide his people, to protect them from harm, and to ensure that their future was one of peace and prosperity. And though he could not escape the loneliness that came with bearing such a great burden, he knew that he was never truly alone, for the woman from the story would always be with him, a silent companion through the eternity of time.


    Carlos''s reputation as a wise and benevolent leader grew, and soon, his people came to regard him as more than just a ruler. They saw in him a father figure, a source of comfort and strength in times of adversity. His wisdom became the stuff of legend, and his name was spoken with reverence and awe across the known world.


    Even as he approached the end of his long life, Carlos remained steadfast in his resolve to protect those he loved. He saw the rise and fall of empires, the birth of new technologies and the death of old ways. He witnessed great wars and great triumphs, and through it all, he used the power of the Chronosphere to guide his people through the chaos and uncertainty of history.


    On a cool autumn evening, as the stars twinkled in the velvet sky, Carlos sat upon his throne, his eyes clouded with age, but his spirit as sharp as ever. He knew that his time was drawing near, that the burden of the Chronosphere would soon pass to another, and that his people would continue to thrive and grow, unaware of the sacrifices he had made and the battles he had fought.


    As he gazed out upon the kingdom he had loved and protected for so long, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, for he knew that his legacy would live on, that the world he had shaped would continue to bear fruit for generations to come. And though he was leaving the world, he took comfort in the knowledge that the woman from the story would always be with him, watching over his people, guiding them through the darkness and into the light.


    Carlos drew in a deep breath, feeling the weight of the Chronosphere begin to lift from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, knowing that soon it would be someone else''s turn to bear the burden of destiny. As he sat there, basking in the glow of a thousand candles and the warmth of the adoration of his people, he realized that he had never been more content, more at peace with the world, than he was in that moment.


    The sound of footsteps approached, and he opened his eyes to see his successor, a young and eager scholar who had studied under him for many years. In her eyes, Carlos could see a mix of determination, fear, and excitement, and he knew that she would do a fine job of guiding the kingdom through the years to come. As they embraced, Carlos felt a tear trickle down his cheek, not from sadness or regret, but from a profound sense of satisfaction and contentment.


    The sun rose the next day, bathing the kingdom in a warm, golden light. The people went about their daily routines, unaware of the change that had taken place during the night. But Carlos knew, and as he watched from a distance, he felt a surge of pride well up within him. His people were strong, resilient, and full of promise, and he had no doubt that they would continue to thrive and grow, their lives enriched by the wisdom and guidance of their new leader.


    As he turned to leave the castle grounds for the final time, Carlos glanced back one last time, taking in the sight of the keep, the bustling market square, and the towering spires of the great cathedral. He smiled, knowing that he had left the world a better place than he had found it, and that his legacy would live on, not just in the pages of history books, but in the hearts and minds of the people he had loved and protected for so long.


    And so, as the sun climbed higher into the sky, and the world continued to spin on its axis, Carlos walked away from the only home he had ever known, his steps sure and steady, his heart full of peace and contentment. He was no longer the Keeper of Time, but he would always be its guardian, its protector, and its champion, for the rest of his days and beyond.


    The wind rustled through the trees, carrying with it the distant calls of birds and the laughter of children. It was a glorious day, and Carlos knew that it was the perfect day to begin a new journey, to start anew, and to leave behind the weight of the Chronosphere, if only for a little while. For now, he was free to wander the world, to explore its many wonders, and to find peace in the knowledge that he had done his duty, that he had lived a life of purpose and meaning, and that his people would always be safe in the hands of those who came after him.


    As he continued down the winding path, the kingdom fading into the distance, Carlos raised his head to the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face and the cool breeze in his hair. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt truly alive, truly free, and truly at peace with the world. And as he walked on, towards whatever destiny lay ahead, he knew that the woman from the story would be there with him, guiding him, protecting him, and loving him unconditionally.


    Carlos wandered through lush forests and over rolling hills, past sparkling lakes and towering mountains, marveling at the beauty and diversity of the world. He met people from all walks of life, sharing stories, learning from their experiences, and imparting his wisdom in return. He discovered hidden valleys and lost cities, ancient ruins and sacred groves, each new discovery filling him with a sense of wonder and awe.


    One day, as he sat on a sun-dappled hillside, watching a flock of birds dance through the sky, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the woman from the story, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "There''s a place I''d like to show you," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "A place where time seems to stand still, where the past, present, and future all coexist."


    Carlos looked at her, curiosity and anticipation welling up within him. "Lead the way," he said, rising to his feet. Together, they left the hillside and began to walk, following a path that wound its way through a dense forest, the air thick with the scent of pine and the song of unseen birds. After what seemed like an eternity, they emerged into a clearing, surrounded by towering trees that stretched up towards the sky, their branches intertwined to form a canopy of green and gold.


    In the center of the clearing stood a single, massive oak tree, its trunk gnarled and twisted, its branches spreading out like the embrace of a loving parent. At its base lay a small, circular pool of water, still and mirror-like, reflecting the blue sky above. As they approached the tree, Carlos felt a sense of peace and belonging wash over him, as if this were the place he had been searching for all his life.


    The woman led him to the edge of the pool, and as they knelt beside it, she took his hand in hers. "This," she said softly, "is the Tree of Eternity. It has stood here for countless centuries, witnessing the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of countless lives. Time passes differently here, slower than it does in the world outside. You can stay here for a day, a week, a lifetime, and when you leave, only a single moment will have passed."


    Carlos looked into the pool, watching as ripples spread out from the edge where they knelt, distorting the image of the tree above. He felt a lump form in his throat as he realized that this was not just a physical place, but a metaphor for the journey he had been on, the lessons he had learned, and the love he had found. He turned to the woman and smiled, tears welling up in his eyes.


    "I understand," he whispered. "I will stay here with you, for as long as you will have me." And with that, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender, lingering kiss, as the world outside continued to spin, oblivious to the moment of eternity they had just shared.


    As they sat beside the pool, hand in hand, they watched the leaves of the Tree of Eternity flutter in the gentle breeze, a symphony of green and gold. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, each breath they took lasting an eternity. The world beyond the clearing faded from their memories, replaced by the beauty and wonder of the moment they shared together.


    Days, weeks, months, and years passed, if one could even measure time in such a place. They grew old together, their hair turning silver and their bodies weary, but their love remained as strong and vibrant as the day they had first met. They told stories of their lives, of the kingdom they had left behind, and of the adventures they had shared since then. They shared their hopes and fears, their dreams and regrets, and in doing so, they discovered that their lives were intertwined in ways they could never have imagined.


    Eventually, the day came when they both knew it was time to leave the Tree of Eternity and return to the world beyond. They rose slowly from the grass, hand in hand, their steps unsteady after so many years of stillness. As they walked towards the edge of the clearing, the tree seemed to tower over them, its branches beckoning them home.


    The sun was setting as they emerged from the forest, the sky ablaze with shades of red and orange. They looked at each other, their faces lined with the wisdom and joy of a lifetime spent together, and knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together. The world they returned to was not the same as the one they had left, but they were different people now, stronger, wiser, and more deeply connected to the world around them. And as they walked hand in hand towards the setting sun, they knew that the love they shared would always guide them home.

 #12 A Mummy from the Underworld

    Chris, Steven, and Jacob were inseparable friends, bound by their shared love for archaeology and history. They spent countless hours together, swapping jokes, debating historical events, and dreaming of uncovering ancient mysteries. Each had their own unique personality: Chris with his penchant for cheesy jokes, Steven with his intellect and wit, and Jacob with his captivating storytelling.


    Their fascination with the Roman Empire often led to lively discussions, with Jacob imagining himself as a mighty Caesar, Chris as a loyal legionary, and Steven as a skilled artisan crafting shields for the army.


    One day, fueled by their thirst for adventure, they decided to journey to Egypt in search of a legendary tomb rumored to hold untold treasures. Their excitement was palpable as they traversed the scorching desert, their minds filled with visions of ancient artifacts and riches beyond imagination.


    Their quest led them to a remote and desolate location where, amidst the shifting sands, they uncovered the entrance to a hidden tomb. With trembling hands and pounding hearts, they eagerly began to excavate, their shovels and picks unearthing the secrets of the past.


    As they breached the tomb''s entrance, a rush of stale air filled their lungs, carrying with it the scent of ancient dust and decay. Undeterred, they pressed forward, their torches casting eerie shadows on the walls of the chamber.


    Inside, they found themselves surrounded by a trove of priceless treasures: golden artifacts, jeweled sarcophagi, and glittering gems that sparkled in the dim light. But amidst the splendor, there was something ominous lurking in the shadows: a mummy, its form shrouded in wrappings, its ancient gaze seeming to pierce through the veil of time itself.


    As they gazed upon the mummy, a sense of unease washed over them, and Jacob accidentally cut himself on a sharp spear nearby. His blood dripped onto the mummy''s face, triggering a chilling transformation as its eyes slowly opened, its desiccated lips parting in a silent scream. The friends froze in terror, their hearts pounding in their chests as they watched the ancient creature stir to life before them.


    In a desperate attempt to break the tension, Chris, always the one to lighten the mood with his jokes, blurted out, "Well, Jacob, I guess you really left your mark on history this time!" His attempt at humor earned a nervous chuckle from Steven and a weak smile from Jacob, but the gravity of the situation quickly sobered them all.


    With trembling hands, they backed away from the mummy, their minds racing with fear and uncertainty. Steven, the pragmatic thinker of the group, was the first to speak. "We need to get out of here," he said, his voice tinged with urgency. "This is no ordinary tomb. There''s something dark and powerful at work here."


    Jacob nodded in agreement, his mind still reeling from the shock of what they had witnessed. "But what about the mummy?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can''t just leave it here, can we?"


    Chris glanced nervously at the mummy, its eyes fixed on them with an otherworldly intensity. "We have to do something," he said, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "We can''t let it escape and wreak havoc on the world."


    As they debated their next course of action, Chris tried to lighten the mood with another joke. "Hey, Steven," he said, flashing a nervous grin. "Do you think the mummy needs a band-aid for Jacob''s little boo-boo?" His attempt at humor fell flat in the face of their dire circumstances, but it served to momentarily ease the tension as they grappled with the gravity of their situation.


    With no clear solution in sight, they reluctantly decided to leave the tomb and seek help from experts who might know how to deal with the ancient curse they had unwittingly unleashed. As they made their way out of the chamber, the mummy''s silent gaze followed them, its eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down their spines.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Emerging into the harsh light of the desert sun, they knew that their lives would never be the same again. They had stumbled upon something far beyond their understanding, something ancient and malevolent that threatened to consume them all if they did not act quickly.


    As they trudged through the scorching desert, their minds racing with fear and uncertainty, Chris tried once again to lighten the mood with a joke. "Well, that was certainly an unforgettable experience," he quipped, his attempt at humor met with weary smiles from his friends.


    But beneath their forced laughter, they knew that the true test lay ahead of them. They would need to find a way to contain the ancient evil they had unleashed, or risk unleashing a plague upon the world that could spell doom for all of humanity.


    And so, with their friendship tested by the horrors they had witnessed, Chris, Steven, and Jacob embarked on a journey that would test their courage, their resilience, and their bonds of friendship like never before. Little did they know that their adventure was far from over, and that the true challenge lay ahead as they faced the ancient curse that threatened to consume them all.


    Their first step was to seek help from experts in ancient curses and dark magic. They traveled to Cairo, where they sought out a renowned archaeologist who was rumored to have knowledge of such matters. The archaeologist, a wise and weathered man named Dr. Rashid, listened intently to their tale, his brow furrowed with concern.


    "You have stumbled upon a grave danger, my young friends," Dr. Rashid said gravely. "The mummy you encountered is no ordinary relic of the past. It is a vessel for an ancient curse, a curse that has the power to bring about unspeakable destruction if left unchecked."


    Chris, Steven, and Jacob exchanged worried glances, realizing the gravity of their situation. "Is there anything we can do to stop it?" Steven asked, his voice tinged with desperation.


    Dr. Rashid nodded thoughtfully. "There is a way to contain the curse, but it will not be easy," he explained. "You must retrieve an ancient artifact known as the Amulet of Ra. Legend has it that this amulet has the power to seal away dark forces and restore balance to the world."


    The friends exchanged determined looks, knowing that they had no choice but to embark on this perilous quest. With Dr. Rashid''s guidance, they set out into the desert once more, their hearts heavy with the weight of their mission.


    Their journey took them deep into the heart of the desert, where they encountered many trials and tribulations along the way. They faced fierce sandstorms, treacherous terrain, and ancient guardians determined to protect the secrets of the past.


    But through courage, determination, and unwavering friendship, they pressed on, drawing strength from each other as they faced each new challenge head-on. Along the way, they shared stories and jokes to keep their spirits high, finding solace in the familiarity of their bond amidst the chaos of their quest.


    As they neared their destination, the friends knew that the final test lay ahead. They had to navigate a treacherous labyrinth hidden deep within the desert sands, where the Amulet of Ra was said to be guarded by ancient spirits of the underworld.


    With Dr. Rashid''s guidance, they ventured into the labyrinth, their hearts pounding with anticipation as they braved its twisting corridors and deadly traps. Along the way, they relied on their wit and ingenuity to overcome each new obstacle, using their knowledge of history and archaeology to decipher the ancient riddles that guarded the way forward.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the heart of the labyrinth, where the Amulet of Ra awaited them. With trembling hands, they retrieved the ancient artifact, feeling its power course through them as they held it aloft.


    But their victory was short-lived, for as they emerged from the labyrinth, they were met by a fearsome sight: the mummy, its eyes blazing with malevolent fury, had risen from its tomb and was now poised to unleash its dark curse upon the world.


    With no time to lose, Chris, Steven, and Jacob sprang into action, channeling the power of the Amulet of Ra to confront the ancient evil before them. With a mighty roar, they unleashed the amulet''s magic, binding the mummy''s spirit and sealing it away once and for all.


    As the curse was lifted and the sands of the desert fell silent once more, the friends breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that they had saved the world from untold destruction. Their journey had been long and perilous, but through courage, determination, and the power of their friendship, they had emerged victorious.


    With the Amulet of Ra safely in their possession, Chris, Steven, and Jacob returned home as heroes, their bond stronger than ever before. And though their adventures in Egypt were now a thing of the past, they knew that they would always cherish the memories of their epic quest, and the enduring friendship that had carried them through it all.