《Tales From the Ends of Worlds》 The Universe Next Door Travel in the infinite multiverse is just as common, easy, and absolutely delightful as that freckled young thing that made your parts tingle and squirm when you were still learning how to feel the great and terrible storms that sweep across the landscapes of within you. For many, travel between the multiverses is as common as the mites on your face. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. This is because of infinity. Infinity is a bit of a pervert, as far as phenomena go, and as far as perverts go, there are few so prolific in perversity than the operators of The Grand Hotel. If you don¡¯t have a branch of The Grand Hotel in your universe, you are probably reading this book. The End of The World ¡°Foolish mortals,¡± the fiend began in tones that yearned to lull the senses into softness. ¡°There is no need to further wave your bits of metal and feeble spells around the atrium of my humble palace.¡± From his concealed point behind a pillar so great it could hide a horse, Reed felt the tip of his crossbow begin to bow in embarrassment. He looked up at the soaring ceiling, where eldritch glass caught the glow of burning souls in beautiful hues and Reed felt barbaric. He looked at the lovely, deadly plants and the people sitting at tables in nice clothes just trying to have a nice meal and he felt like scum. Reed hung his head preparing to surrender in embarrassment. ::Remember that guy I told you about who was in charge of torturing the sinful lovers?:: Came a voice inside Reed¡¯s head. The voice of the great fiend before had been like a tsunami of velvet, a cosmic horror of incredible comfort. The familiar voice in his head was similar to the first in the way that pools and oceans both have parts that are called deep. Reed nearly gasped upon hearing the voice as he felt the effect of the earlier voice lift slightly. The Great F ::The one turned one of the lovers inside out and then turned the other inside out over them?:: Asked Reed, silently. ::Via their assholes, yes.:: The gravity well of the Great Fiend¡¯s voice pulled less harshly while they spoke. As soon as he was no longer distracted by the voice in his head, Reed found himself being once again soothed by the voice. He looked at those with whom he had broken bread for weeks and saw them relaxing the hands that held weapons. ::You said they were fully conscious during the whole experience.:: Refocusing on that bond brought the ability to move again and Reed began to slowly work his way... where? Away! He began sliding back along the immaculately clean floor. ::They still are, as far as I know.:: ::That¡¯s terrible! Are you saying this is the monster that did that?:: Reed found a small opening in the wall he was concealing himself against and began worming his way into it like a rat into a lifeboat. ::This is the one that taught the monster that did that.:: ::Are you sure?:: The opening was tight, not nearly as deep as he had hoped but he could disguise the entrance with his cloak. Outside, the soothing doom spoke on of the futility or resistance and irresistible appeals for peace on behalf of the adventurers. ::Of course, Agmeroth, or ¡®Aggy the Inverter¡¯ as he would come to be known, was so excited about their accomplishment they hosted a dinner and invited Urathenemon over to seek their approval.:: ::How do you know so much about the affair?:: ::Who do you think they hired to tempt the lovers into sin?:: Reed began wondering where Baphomet was during all this. He cast his awareness into his familiar¡¯s form. When he opened his eyes, he was looking at one of the well set tables that ringed the atrium. A fine work of confection (¡°probably dusted with heartbreak and armpit rash,¡± thought Reed) was being lifted to his mouth. A spider crawled across the pastry and Reed paused the hoof that was ferrying the cursed cookie. In the reflection of polished tourine of the tortured blood of innocents, Reed saw a baby goat raise an eyebrow in inquiry. The two other fiends at the table paused their own dining and stared. Embarrassed, Reed returned his attention to the cramped confines of his hiding spot. ::Which sin was that?:: He asked. ::In their belief,:: Baphomet continued, ::there is a forbidden dance, done in secret on special nights. I told the lovers that participating with an open heart in the dance would give them the capacity to feel what the other felt.:: ::And that¡¯s what condemned them to this hell?:: ::Sort of, they also participated in a small orgy that included the niece of their religious leader. When their leader found out, they cursed the lovers and got them sent to hell.:: ::Wow, they can do that?:: The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ::No, but because they participated in the dance, it was ruled we could keep them because they had participated in the technically forbidden dance.:: ::Wow, I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have any religion or gods.:: ::Everyone¡¯s got gods.:: Reed was prepared to retort but decided it would be a good time to start gathering information on a plan to get them all out of here. ::Imagine if we had put any effort into a plan to get into here.:: Baphomet sighed, sensing the intention as Reed once again popped into his head and began looking around. ::There was a plan, Lilly left it written on the note.:: Down below, fiends were stripping his companions of their weapons and wrapping their wrists in the thirsting twine that drank power and hope from those it bound. ::But imagine if we followed it.:: Bapho¡¯s voice was rhapsodic. Not for the first time this hour, Reed questioned his own wisdom in bringing Baphomet along on a deadly attempt to free their friend from her father¡¯s imprisonment in hell. ::We mostly followed her plan.:: Reed felt himself get angry at himself for getting sucked into the argument. ::But then you had to get clever and try to use magic to skip a step.:: ::And now you¡¯re going to use magic to get us out of it.:: ::The only magic I¡¯m participating in is the magic of how lovely this tea tastes.:: ::You are going to slip in among the guards and make one of them invisible so they can slip away.:: ::I¡¯m not going to do that.:: ::You have to! It¡¯s in the contract.:: ::I¡¯m allowed to ignore insane commands.:: ::You aren¡¯t and this isn¡¯t. Go down there.:: ::And die? If I die here, this is the end of it for me.:: Reed thought about that. It hadn¡¯t been easy finding a familiar, even one as nearly useless as this one was. ::Do you have any other options?:: ::Yeah, we spend the rest of your life down here. We can pretend that you¡¯re my burden to torture for eternity.:: ::Pretend?:: ::We can stop pretending that we aren¡¯t pretending that you have any power over me and that it¡¯s my holy duty to torture you until the end of time.:: ::I don¡¯t want to be tortured by you anymore than I already am.:: ::Don¡¯t worry, I have a cousin who lives outside the city. We¡¯ll keep you in the barn and use your illusions to fake the torture if anyone stops by.:: ::That¡¯s not really the way I want to spend the rest of my life.:: ::It¡¯s not like you have long to live anyway.:: ::That¡¯s not the point, even if it¡¯s wrong.:: ::You have what, a couple hundred years left at best? They¡¯ll fly by and you¡¯ll be just as dead and then you can go to where you deserve; the barn of my cousin where I will start torturing you in earnest for all your sinful ways, you naughty, naughty boy.:: Reed blushed among the many feelings of frustration he was experiencing. He grabbed control of Bapho and began marching him down to the procession his friends were being bustled along in. ::Hey!:: Bapho cried, ::Stop it! I was going to do it on my own but in a less stupid way!:: Reed ignored him and tried to slip stealthily among the forest of weaving legs that lay between Bapho¡¯s form and their goal. Reed had long suspected that the form Bapho insisted on, that of a baby calico goat, was not as necessary as Bapho claimed. It was definitely not great for sneaking. ::You¡¯re going to get us killed!:: Bapho said as they bounced around a table and towards the rearmost guards. Reed grit his teeth, feeling their bond being strained by the distant between them. If they didn¡¯t get there soon, Reed would lose his grip and be forced to rely on Baphomet ¡°interpreting¡± his directions in whatever way he pleased. Tiny hooves danced among large boots. Reed cursed inwardly, trying to identify his friends from this lower angle, through the eyes of a goat which saw things strangely. ::Which one is Szarra?:: Asked Reed, feeling sweat begin to soak his hands and back in the hole his body was hiding in. ::Three rows ahead, just get the druid.:: ::Which one is that?:: ::The only one with the short, bushy tail!:: Reed caught a flash of the tail. Thrazz, their Gnoll Druid, was one guard away. ¡°Hey!¡± A guard called out. Hands reached to grab the baby goat. ::Pull me out! Pull me out!:: Cried Bapho. Reed danced him between hands and legs. He was nearly there. ::If they catch me, they can hold me and I¡¯ll be stuck and I will sell you out faster than a duke defunding an orphanage.:: Reed lept the goat just out of grasping hands. He felt a stab of pain as hooves landed on the spiked thigh of another guard as he bounced off onto the back of the one who had bent down to grab him. From their he bounded in the air towards Thrazz. Just as he touched, he felt hands grip the small neck of the baby calico goat. He threw the spell down through the form and saw Thrazz fade from sight before the goat was whipped around. Reed was about to try and recall Bapho, praying it would work when they all felt the stage slip out beneath them. Distant Ends "A game creates a world," James P. Carse Like fetishes and potatoes, the ends of worlds come in all sorts of colors, sizes, and shapes. Some are sweet, some are bitter, and many (some might say most) are as tiresomely mundane as travel between those worlds. Many groups of travelers have organized philosophies, religions, fields of study, and fanclubs around touring the ends of worlds, traveling to different universes and the worlds within, all the while watching planets, people, and perspectives fall apart from collisions with others, the relentless weight of time, and clerical errors. ¡°What¡¯s a clerical error?¡± a sympathetic creature one would be predisposed to root for interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s when they miscalculate their spell slots?¡± advised the levity balancing creature with unthreatening charm. ¡°Spell slots?¡± asked the symcrete. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°S-l-o-t-s.¡± the creature who was competent replied, oblivious or apathetic to the social norms and context. The lecture hall was grand and gagging with History and Import. The one professing dripped wisdom across the floor as they continued: "Some say there is, at the end of all ends, a world where all the ends of worlds end up." The Symcrete raised their hand. The Oneprof continued. "These are speculations, of course, postulating motion confused for progress by minds weary of the ambiguity." The Oneprof stared sharply at the sea of sentients soaking up whatever information slipped past their daydreams. "Beware that feeling of comfort that surety brings. It likely means you have stopped living." The Oneprof looked at the other side of the room from where the Symcrete sat. "Yes, you the protagonistic appearance," The Oneprof said sharply, "what is your question?" The Symcrete paused, their question forgotten by the last words landing at last in their ear. "Do you mean that if we are sure of something, we are likely dead?" "No, just that you''ve stopped living." The Oneprof moved to continue but The Symcrete interrupted with the question they meant to ask earlier. "Are there really that many worlds that they are ending every day?" "Every second of every hour of every day sees the death of more worlds than your heart will have beats." Clerical Errors ¡°Space is big,¡± Douglas Adams A dangerous syllogism exists that states: ¡°If anyone understands clerical errors, it¡¯s the front desk at The Grand Hotel.¡± It''s dangerous because if anyone understands the front desk at The Grand Hotel, it might be the sapient fungus that has been eating that desk even before the world ended. The fungus was eating most of the hotel before the world ended and the lack of people had only accelerated its consumption. It had started in the kitchen scraps in one of its kitchens and from there it grew fine branches of itself underneath the wallpaper and carpets of every corner of every room it could find. Before the world ended, it found many rooms. It would fruit a small piece of itself so it could experience the hotel¡¯s single housekeeper cleaning each of the infinite rooms in less than an hour. But now the housekeeper is gone, even though that seemed impossible, and the fungus plies and pulls at fibers and compounds until it can take it apart and make something of it. ¡°Infinity is a difficult concept to dissolve,¡± the sapient space fungi says when pilgrims travel the innumerate roads that lead to the front desk of The Grand Hotel in search of understanding of clerical errors. ¡°It is particularly difficult if you¡¯ve a habit of breaking up the universe into finite games.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°But how do clerical errors end worlds?¡± an earnest pilgrim asks. The sapient fungus will go on to explain that the way things are counted determines the outcomes of the counting and that across the infinite phenomena to be counted, there are no ends or beginnings to the ways things can be counted inaccurately leading to an infinite number of people, places, and things that are not counted and never taught to count themselves and so do not count. In the Library of Bable, there is a book in which plenty of unnamed characters can attest to the horrors that can happen to those who are not counted and who do not count. The pilgrim finds this unsatisfying and persists in their inquiry, desperate to have some concept they can weave the ideas of infinity around without first dissolving the finite box they¡¯ve wrapped around their mind. The fruiting body of the sapient tangle of mycological webs responds with yet another infinitely inaccurate depiction of the infinite number of ways worlds end by bad math, political accounting, overconfident overlooking, and low blood sugar when doing sums. Everyone is unsatisfied and the game they play together ends. And this interaction leads to many to use to syllogism that brought them here to deduce that no one understands clerical errors. If a ->b Not b Therefore not a a is ''anyone understands clerical errors'' b is ''the front desk of The Grand Hotel understands clerical errors Lump ¡°I want to go out to eat.¡± She said. ¡°I hope you enjoy yourself and discover some warm memory.¡± he said. ¡°I hope so too and so I intend to take you with me.¡± He looked at her and she looked at him and they both smiled. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± He said. ¡°Why not?¡± She asked, flouncing dramatically on the couch and across his lap. The couch creaked louder than it had in the last 15 years. They paused. ¡°I think I have cancer.¡± He said, when their support failed to collapse beneath them. ¡°Well,¡± she said, face softening in concern, ¡°it sounds like you might not have many more chances to enjoy Denver¡¯s newest restaurant that my sister said is absolutely amazing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± ¡°So was my sister when she said that even though it gave her nightmares, the spicy noodle dish they serve made her so wet she had to wrap a jacket around her waist on the walk back to the train.¡± As she spoke, she squirmed around on his lap, pulling teasingly down on her dress. His face reddened. ¡°I found a lump.¡± he said, ¡°On my testicles.¡± ¡°One time I found twenty dollars.¡± She said, ¡°In a library book.¡± ¡°I know this might be scary-¡± He began. ¡°Yeah, I am afraid we might not get a table!¡± ¡°I think it will be alright.¡± He said, preparing to cite the statistics of how survivable testicular cancer is especially if young men screen themselves regularly like he did. ¡°It won¡¯t be alright if we get stuck in traffic and fail to find parking and spend the rest of the night trying to find a consolation restaurant instead of sitting at a picturesque table set for two, with me watching the candlelight reflect on your funny worried face while you watch all the pretty people in fine outfits walking past below, pretending they don¡¯t see the homeless people they are stepping around.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Below?¡± He asked, ¡°It has rooftop dining?¡± ¡°Well, they did when I called earlier,¡± she swung her legs around and down to sit up. As she left the couch, she flipped the back of her dress in his face, boffing him gently with swishy fabric and gentle wiff of underwear worn while walking about all day, ¡°but the terrace might be full by the time you¡¯re done moping around about hypothetical cancer.¡± He sighed, slightly dazed by the many feelings in his head and followed her to the bedroom to get dressed. When he entered their room, she was sprawled across the bed. She heaved another dramatic sigh that let her rising bosom pull her hemline even higher. He breathed. ¡°I fell over.¡± She said, her eyes twinkling from the pillows. He licked his lips. ¡°I see that.¡± ¡°Which is weird because there wasn¡¯t any reason for me to trip.¡± ¡°Maybe there¡¯s something wrong with your legs?¡± ¡°Maybe you should check.¡± She said, wriggling her toes together. His mouth parted and he breathed wetly. ¡°Better safe than sorry,¡± he said, lifting a foot and examining it. She reached her other foot up and set the sole on the back of his neck. ¡°Maybe higher up?¡± She suggested. He nodded, running fingers and lips up her calf. ¡°How does it look so far?¡± she asked. ¡°Lovely.¡± He said, licking lightly at her skin. ¡°And how about now?¡± She asked, drawing him further up her legs, letting him nibble at her thighs. ¡°Mmmph,¡± he said. ¡°What was that?¡± she started to tease, when he drove his tongue amid the muscles of her inner thigh and where it began rolling like a horse recently unsaddled. Her fingers gripped the sheets. Then they gripped his head. His breath was hot and damp through the cotton of her panties. His fingers roamed and pressed, teased and caressed and time began to swim in that lovely harmony it often, but not always, did when he touched her and she touched him. Her ass was bare and she didn¡¯t remember his removing her underwear but there was no mistaking that mouth on her skin and that tongue inside her. She felt wet warmth weep from his mouth or her cunt and slide down across her asshole. She shivered as she held him or he held her on the tip of his tongue as it washed gently like a wave back and forth along the folds inside her. Glory Arrows flew through the air and stabbed through the faces and flesh of many people who had very little to do with the theater of the states they were dying for. ¡°This seems a bit much.¡± said Sam. ¡°Oversalient, even.¡± agreed Woods. They paused as several of their comrades screamed the last sounds they would utter and they were not loving whispers to gathered loved ones or a wry joke but exclamations of animal terror as a brain that came down from the trees the day before tried to understand why it was so important to die beneath a bit of fabric too sodden with the mud of the earth and man to properly flap like the paintings some asshole would paint of it later. ¡°It¡¯s like that food that those people who are a bit different than us would make.¡± Sam mused. ¡°When your tongue is too busy burning to taste anything?¡± Woods asked. ¡°Yes!¡± They smiled and enjoyed the moment of being seen by one another. Several of the people they had eaten dinner with the night before fell down beside them. Two of them were dead and the last would have the misfortune of keeping consciousness for a few more days. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what we¡¯re meant to be doing here.¡± Said Woods once the dying one¡¯s whimpering had died down to a piteous gurgle. ¡°I heard there was a tree we were meant to water with the blood of the bad guys.¡± ¡°Who are the bad guys again?¡± ¡°The ones with the other flag, I think.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, they were going to do something terrible if we didn¡¯t do something terrible to them.¡± They looked around. ¡°Well, if terrible things were the goal, I think we¡¯ve all accomplished our goal.¡± Sam said. ¡°Agreed.¡± Smiled Woods. ¡°Shall we?¡± A quarter mile off, someone bound by titles watched through a field glass as two soldiers stood from the piles of bodies, linked arms and began strolling away from the battle field. The way they strolled, politely yielding to passing warriors intent on killing each other, reminded the colorfully costumed commander of the way they and their spouse had once strolled along the river, carefully dodging careening children and smiling politely at those selling strange foods and flowers. Fortunately for the heroic loss of life before them, the one acting as commander was interrupted by one of the ones acting as messenger with some update on the geometry of the human potential creating widows and orphans for glorious purpose on the perfectly lovely field on which thousands of reasonable people had failed to prevent a battle from breaking out upon below them. The commander made a mental note to follow up on the strolling soldiers if anyone made it out alive. Wild Flower ¡°To save the world, one must first invent the universe.¡± Sarl Cagan TBD - Space where two (or more) players can converse regarding the great sea of objects (sand, marbles, beanie babies, boogers, delicious pennies, soggy buttons, etc.) - shortly after an unveiling The character (1) who is new to the sea of things embodies awe before finally smashing the experience into the living words that escape their lips and explode in the brain of the recipient who has seen the sea before them before (2). 1 They¡¯re beautiful! 2 I agree, even if they were impossible to see. 1 You cannot see them? 2 Nor can I not see them. 1 Such unseeing sightings might appear unseemly to someone more straightforward. 2 If I were in the desert looking, I could see only sand and sky The sky was everything which wasn¡¯t desert, The desert was mostly what there was, I would see little difference between what is before us and what I imagine being lost in an endless sea of sand would be like. 1 What strange lenses have you fastened to that face of yours that you could not see what you can¡¯t not see. 2 These are like the cloud creature which dances strangely in the sky. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. I am told it is made of so many starlings being close and far and close and yes, I see so many but I also see so few. Do I see 100 of a singular bird or do I see 100 singular birds? 1 Like a play where it¡¯s not the actors but the imaginations of so many seated together that makes a play. 2 Like seeing a heap of sand where each piece could be removed without not making it a heap and none of them atop another will likewise never make the heap again. 1 Some of them say that, you know. 2 What? A sandy heap of worlds? 1 Of universes, each one with heaps of worlds. 2 Heaps of worlds, some of which will have heaps of sand. 1 If it is a heapless world, one more grain would do no harm. 2 And if it is heaped with those crunchy universes grinding, popping, rolling on the teeth as you try to chew them in piece 1 But everyone is looking at you eat and eat the universes 2 Universes filled with you, eating universes In some of which you are eating again and being eaten. There are an infinite number of universes that have you being eaten while you eat sand. What are the odds you aren¡¯t in one now? 1 There are an infinite number of different types of infinite other things that can happen to universes. 2 We are going to get so sick of infinity. 1 Why does everything have to go on? 2 And on 1 And on 2 And on 1 And on 2 And on 1 And beneath that endless awning we have to again 2 And again 1 And again invoke the i-word. Lump ¡°So tell me about your new friend?¡± She asked. He was staring off into space, watching the people float about below, laughing too loudly at jokes and holding each other as the night and wine loosened all the little fears and gears that kept people pretending. ¡°Hmm?¡± he asked. The food had been delicious. They had talked about their work and the latest terrible thing that some group of humans was doing to another. Now the dinner was done and it had been what she had been wanting and he had been patient. Worried, but patient. ¡°Your new friend in your no-no zone,¡± she said, ¡°Tell me about him.¡± ¡°It¡¯s probably nothing.¡± He said, taking a sip of water. ¡°And even if it¡¯s something, it¡¯s probably pretty treatable.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Treatable to treat a ball?¡± He smiled. ¡°Have you made an appointment?¡± ¡°With who?¡± ¡°Your doctor.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a doctor.¡± ¡°Well, find one!¡± ¡°I can find a ferrari but that¡¯s not why I didn¡¯t drive us here in one.¡± ¡°Do you not have insurance?¡± He looked away. She finished the rest of her wine in a gulp. The waiter came with the bill and left with a card. Debt at a Funeral ¡°Do you at least have a plan?¡± She asked on the ride home. ¡°To get treated?¡± He said, glancing briefly from the road to look at her. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°No, to save up enough money to afford a funeral. Those things are expensive and it would be very uncool of you to leave me with that expense.¡± He laughed. She smiled. Palau ¡°What about medical tourism?¡± She asked, wiping the last of her makeup off her face. ¡°What about it?¡± He asked, alternating between poofing out his belly and sucking it in as much as possible. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve always wanted to go to that place where the jellyfish aren¡¯t toxic to humans and swim among them and have you take beautiful pictures of me in my new bikini.¡± ¡°You have a new bikini?¡± ¡°I will by the time you get a good underwater camera and tickets to fly us out there.¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Out where?¡± ¡°Out to that island...¡± she said, flossing her teeth, ¡°you know... with the jellyfish!¡± ¡°Why are we going there?¡± He asked, staring at his razor and trying to remember what he was doing. ¡°Because, I bet there is someone there who will cut your balls off for a reasonable price.¡± ¡°I guess if they have good doctors out there.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯d be a bonus if they have doctors!¡± She said, ¡°You¡¯re so smart, I can¡¯t wait to marry you.¡± ¡°You want to get married?¡± he asked, his words filtered through soapy foam. ¡°I mean, sure, if you survive.¡± She smiled as she flossed, a bit of drool slipping over her lips. He smiled back. The Grand Hotel At the end of the world, the monsters stirred. Sartorial sky scrapers and lost linen interstates littered the hallways of the hastily abandoned hotel. Gilt ridden curtains housed hordes of mad, miniature mothmen who lived their month long lives in haunted disbelief as their own and others fates flitted through their fleeting minds. The carpets which had once bounced beneath the feet and hooves and other pods of myriad creatures from so many cosmos now oozed with a strange slime mold which randomly replicated writing it had eaten. Froody watched as ¡°Come See The Last Dragon,¡± was written on what remained of the rug drug out for special company. There had been people here, once. Their will was wild in its insecure insistence on a ground to stand on. They came, the fever dreams of their infections coughing up from raw throats phlegmatic rainbows of toxic thoughts of their needing to be with ideas that there was a place of order and that the limbic sea was what was strange. They took the creatures of The Deep Could Being, wrapping them in gold chains and stapled them to marbled plinths. They brought paper and pen and said since ''you signed this, we own you,'' and at first some thought it was a silly game but the people played so seriously that several species of quantum flowers died in disgust. But now the people were gone. Well, all but Mike were gone. Mike was unlikely to go anywhere. Froody wasn¡¯t sure whether Mike was still considered human in the state he was in but Mike insisted that he was. It had taken Froody several weeks to climb out of where he worked. They had liked their job, mostly. The pay was plentiful and there were often interesting challenges. One memorable night, a fraternity of angels had cut loose in the establishment and ordered well beyond their means to pay or capacity to eat. So much food was sent down the shoot that night splashing into the space where Froody mostly lived. There the million mycelium cells Broody had back then began happily exploring the different ways to dissolve what was unwanted and incorporate it into their entangling tissues. But now there were no more angels or humans. There were no more of whate of what those with power called peopleno more people to pretend that money was realwaste was inevitable and so his pay had stopped. Without the pay, Broody couldn¡¯t feed Mike. They liked feeding Mike. So, they had climbed out, or rather had gathered all the carbon variations they could into a mobile form and taught the fine entanglements what they could of the song they called themself. The form bloomed from one of the cracks they had long ago grown into so that he could see and taste and smell and feel what world it was that paid so well. As their mobile form took shape and its firtstep, they felt sadness slosh about inside them as most of what they were fell dormant. It would die if they left themselves alone too long. Froody shrugged. They had died before and doubtless they would die again. ¡°What¡¯s a dragon?¡± Wondered Froody, wandering over and tickling the mold with hyphe of their own. The slime mold tried to eat them. Froody sighed and withdrew. They let their rolling squishy gate take them out of the doors and into the pool area. Overhead, the sky blossomed in disconcerting blooms. Suns came into being and fell like snow which rose like ghosts and exploded into books which landed in flowery heaps that sighed their way out of existence. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. One of the heaps groaned and brushed the thoughts from itself. The shed suns fell away, revealing a squat head and a mouth that threatened to reach all the way around. ¡°Arf!¡± Called Froody. Arf looked over at the wobbling mushroom. He had been involved with maintenance but had been let go for eating too many guests. Froody had seen him fixing things and swimming in the pool when guests were not around. Arf had never seen Froody, though. Very few people saw Froody. They saw his fruits or the flowers of mycellium he grew as he explored the hotel, but very few people saw Froody. ¡°Do I know you?¡± Asked Arf, scratching his slimy head with his webbed claws. ¡°I worked in waste reclamation. You worked in maintenance. They fired you after you ate that kid and you hid in the garden ponds after you killed the world turtle that was guarding it.¡± Arf glowered. ¡°That kid had it coming.¡± ¡°Ok.¡± said Froody. Despite breaking down and incorporating millions of half eaten desserts and at least one box of books, Froody had only a shadow of understanding of what was meant by words like ¡®deserve¡¯ and ¡®fair¡¯ and ¡®had it coming¡¯. Arf looked at the pool that he had snuck into so often. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± He asked over his shoulder. ¡°My friends call me ¡®Froody¡¯.¡± ¡°Do they?¡± ¡°They do.¡± Said Froody, and willed it to be true. ¡°Alright Froody,¡± said Froody¡¯s new friend, Arf. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°I am looking for The Last Dragon.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her since the people left.¡± ¡°Do you think they took her with them?¡± Arf looked at them. ¡°Do you not know what happened?¡± ¡°When they left, you mean?¡± Arf nodded. ¡°There was noise and magic and the glass around Senerax shattered. Then there was screaming and the meat and fluids that selves ride around in covered the floors and I took apart some of the tissues but I found no selves within.¡± Arf nodded. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s one way of putting it. If people had the option, they would not have taken Sen with them.¡± ¡°Where did they go?¡± ¡°Away.¡± ¡°Which way?¡± Arf shrugged. ¡°Any way they could.¡± The long amphibian limbs began to stretch as Arf looked into his pool and prepared to dive. ¡°They¡¯ll be back, though, so if you have business here, you better get to it.¡± Froody thought about what business he had while Arf swam deep into the black bottomed pool. ¡°I don¡¯t have a business, do I?¡± This worried Froody. If they needed to do business before the people returned, then he needed some business to do while he still had his chance. Mostly Hydrogen She stood on her toes, hands pressed against the counter. The cooling mist snaking from her ankles up her legs caressed, in its rise, an ass still harboring a few glistening drops from the shower that sweet behind had recently departed. His eyes ran up along her back, over the shoulder he had hungrily sucked on a night before, and up a tender neck he''d nibbled at just this morning. The eyes continued their roaming around her bitten lip before collapsing into the autumn meadow of her eyes. Those plump cheeks, which capped her legs, those lovely hams from which bloomed her back, that sweet double handful of denim stretching flesh who his groin had distractingly sweet memories of, slapped itself around in strange applause as a long fart fled into the humid air. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. She batted her eyes and challenged him with sultry eye contact. Their eyes danced in intimate tango while they tried to keep a straight face as the hot wet air soured inside their mouths and noses. Then the world of that moment ended when one of them laughed and the other followed suit and they fled the humid stench made possible by the worlds inside of them. Range Words St. "Woods?" Asked Sam. "Yes, my darling?" Answered Woods. "Do you remember that place where everyone pretended there was that thing that we couldn''t see but everyone insisted was there?" Millions of miles from where they stood, the force of gravity shoved so many atoms together, their protons blushed with pleasure and new elements were made. "Can you be more specific, please?" Asked Woods. "They had built a bunch of things and everyone had great costumes..." The energy released from squishing so many red faced atoms together took days to reach the surface of the sun but only minutes to reach the planet Sam was trying to remind Woods of the city-state they had wandered into. "The play?" Asked Woods, uncertainly. "Yeah! The one people got really upset if you said it was a play!" The light mostly bounced off or got a little lost as heat but some of it was folded into sugars and other interesting shapes. "I remember! I''m still not sure if I was meant to be the audience or an actor. Still, it was nice to play a game with so many people. That was fun. We joined a gym, if I remember rightly." "An army." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. "That''s right, someone said if we didn''t go kill people, they''d kill us." Woods smiled, muscles driven by sunlight wrapped around molecules being explosively unspun by other molecules bouncing about their blood. "The songs and exercise and group showers were fun." "I kept waiting to see how serious they were about the whole thing," laughed Sam, "I thought, no way they really meant for us to go about killing other people." "I think that''s why they wanted us to pretend the other people were monsters." "Why would that be any better?" "I don''t know. It was quite a strange place. Still, it was nice to have all the uncertainty shouted at, the whole complex world boiled down into a little world where everyone could feel like they were part of something big!" "Well, anyway, they want us to come back." Sunshine is tricky to capture in a jar but every day little things tie up the waves and rip other tiny things apart. "Oh, no thank you. I didn''t like the battle. Way too many eyes being gouged out and organs flying around. I''ve nothing against what a person has on the inside but I am not for any exposure of those insides outside a proper operating theater." "They say that we are still part of the play and if we don''t go back and do terrible things to the people pretending to be the other... whatchacallit... the others... you know?" "Yeah, the monsters." "Right, if we don''t go do monstrous things to other people, they will do monstrous things to us." Sam said. "Well, tell them we aren''t playing. No one who is forced to play can play." "I did. They told me that''s why we are being given a choice." "Oh good, I like choices. I choose to leave." Said Woods. "We can''t leave?" "Why not?" "It''s a culdesac." "What is?" "This universe." "It''s one way?" "Yep. Anyone can come in but no one can get out." "Well, they said it would happen eventually." "So, should we fight or die?" "On second thought, I don''t like it. Let''s leave." The Dragon Lass "Have you seen the last dragon?" Froody asked Senerax, the last dragon. It had taken some time to find Senerax who they had enjoyed watching since they found their way into the hotel. She was beautiful and she would sometimes eat the fruits they grew inside the glass she was surrounded by. She sighed and turned away. Light reflected off pearlescent scales, highlighting the shadow of muted colors the collar she once wore sat. "The rug told me to see the last dragon then it tried to eat me but it didn''t know how, much like I don''t know what a dragon looks like and I would like to see one." "Would you?" "Would I like to? I don''t know. I think so. Have you seen one?" Sen sighed. "I have seen many but I haven''t seen one in quite some time." "What does one look like?" "Like me, but less worthless." Froody puzzled over these words for some time, taking them apart and putting them back together. When they looked up Senerax was gone and had rolled the rock over the cave she had carved into the fractal putting course. Their spongy foot scraped over fallen scales as they wandered back to the hotel. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "So much to do," they thought, thinking of all that could be done without people wandering about trapped in one dull little game and unable to play any others. They found a quiet damp corner and began sending threads thinner than the fine hairs on the small of a woman''s back down between the grout and flags. He groaned, softly as the stones softened to his touch and he slipped into the soils beneath. Above the surface, tiles cracked as Froody quested down and out, trying to find what remained of their self below. They found other fungi, some nearly sapient, and at last found the last bit of his body which once wrapped throughout the grand hotel but now had been mostly eaten by the slime mold while they were away. Froody grumbled and began tearing apart the slime mold, breaking it down and rebuilding himself out of the pieces. The slime fought back but the hymn of sapience had not yet found it and so the slime could only do so much. It could only adapt so fast and predict so much before Froody found the chemicals within their body and also in the cleaning cupboards and began using those to break apart the slime mold tissues. Other parts of them found a quiet spot among some trees they were tending to and began blooming clones of themselves. Eventually the energy took too much and they were unable to keep pretending to be a self. As the reflecting song of self faded, they smiled, remembering the clone that cloned him long ago teaching Froody the game-song of selfhood so long ago. The Elves ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± ¡°Do you not recognize it?¡± They had awoken the slumbering elf from their dreamwalking several months ago. This was the first time they had been given a broad overview of the progress they had made on their designs during their walkabout. ¡°I admit I do not. But that isn¡¯t intended to be a criticism. I understand that my works have been held in some regard after my departure and so it wouldn¡¯t be unexpected that my person might have some aura of importance around it. Me not recognizing the subtleties of your design might be a product of overestimation of my comprehension.¡± The youth smiled nervously. ¡°I¡¯m only 409 years old and so it is not for me to judge one such as you who has more millenia of experience than I have centuries.¡± ¡°Age is no barrier to criticism. More experience in being wrong won¡¯t make anyone less wrong.¡± ¡°But you aren¡¯t wrong!¡± ¡°That seems unlikely to be true and depressing if it were. I don¡¯t remember all I encountered in the dream but I do remember the poignant sensation of being deeply wrong about things I found quite important.¡± ¡°Do you remember what they were?¡± ¡°Not yet but perhaps this is the place for me to remember. Tell me, which of my designs is this based on?¡± ¡°Titanic.¡± ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± ¡°The rules you set out in Titanic, do you remember?¡± ¡°Is that a retitling of my essay on the growth of metaorganisms and their diminishing returns?¡± ¡°I have read all of your works that are available and I don¡¯t remember any works on that matter. Perhaps that was lost to time?¡± ¡°By ¡®Titanic¡¯, you aren¡¯t referring to my brilliant treatise on the pluriverse, are you?¡± ¡°No, that too is... less appreciated than your other works.¡± ¡°But as I look over the city, whose border stretches to three horizons and would reach the fourth were it not for the mountains aborting its sprawl, I do see several statues that seem to bear some resemblance to me.¡± ¡°You do, indeed.¡± ¡°I am held in some high regard, then?¡± ¡°You are credited for many great works.¡± ¡°But not my illustrative poems about humility and compassion in governance?¡± ¡°Those are mandatory reading for children but I will admit that few over the age of 100 spend much time on them.¡± ¡°Instead, I am heralded for the game my friends and I created to pass the time and help us study for finals.¡± ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Titanic.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°The subject matter relates to great heroes upon whose shoulders rests the fates of loved ones, states, and worlds?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°That was a game.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°One meant to be a bit of a satire.¡± ¡°A bit of a what?¡± The old elf sighed. ¡°The problem with satire is that it¡¯s often enjoyable.¡± ¡°What do you mean, ¡®a game¡¯?¡± ¡°Satire often brings up something unpleasant and then relieves the audience of the ensuing tension by means of that sweet cousin to the small death; laughter.¡± ¡°Do you mean, like, ¡®a war game¡¯ or ¡®the games we play in politics¡¯?¡± ¡°And too often this creates a situation where the satirized object is embraced and amplified.¡± ¡°Well, what if it is? What if the thing you were making fun of is actually awesome?¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Well, look at this! We are in a tower, the height of which could not be measured in as many people as I have years, overlooking a city known in every corner of the world that is known.¡± ¡°So?¡± ¡°So what if a joke you made millenia hence led to this moment? Who cares? It¡¯s amazing!¡± ¡°So amazing that you brought me back to fix it?¡± ¡°Who told you that? We brought you back to celebrate your success.¡± ¡°But things are falling apart.¡± ¡°Why do you say that?¡± ¡°For three good reasons think I things are falling apart. We¡¯ll leave unexplored the fact that everything everywhere is always falling apart because that would take some shine off this old turd¡¯s arguments. The first of three is that I don¡¯t think my writings left much in the way of insinuations that I was fond of being publicly masturbated. ¡°Honored, sir.¡± ¡°Call the hand whatever you wish but take my batting hand in earnest as it knocks others away.¡± ¡°This is true, you¡¯ve beaten off several petitioners to host dinners in your honer.¡± ¡°And even if some whisper of such wants existed, I don¡¯t think the cost incurred for drawing me back would be worth the risks and wrists.¡± ¡°Maybe we have so much wealth that we can afford it?¡± ¡°Maybe, but I am guessing that such wealth is eroding.¡± ¡°Gold does not erode.¡± ¡°Everything erodes and gold is not your wealth, that¡¯s just a way of keeping track. Not a particularly good one once the power is gained to create it out of nothing.¡± ¡°Which is why we banned the practice in all but a few.¡± ¡°But people keep discovering the secret anyway? Rulers keep subtly extending the limits beyond the books?¡± ¡°Why do you say we need you to fix something?¡± ¡°Well, I know that I was insane for a few weeks after waking. Incredibly weak, overstimulated by the shouting touch on offer by even the softest sheets, all while trying to master this new, strange way of speaking.¡± ¡°We speak elvish! The ancient pure tongue!¡± ¡°If you say so, but still, the trauma of return is enough for thoughtful retrievers to create a comfortable place for the returned to rehabilitate themselves. But I¡¯ve been mostly lucid for months now and have not been allowed outside.¡± ¡°You are free to go wherever you wish.¡± ¡°Provided I give notice and provided there is a sufficient number of people who do a wonderful job of not looking too closely at you and my other handlers to make sure they are doing what you want.¡± ¡°You are, at your request, anonymous.¡± ¡°I am, at your insistence, always watched.¡± ¡°You are cared for.¡± ¡°I am contained and were I one to bet, assuming I had credit, I would bet that you and I disguised could quickly find some sign of that question to which you are hoping I have some answer.¡± ¡°It was foolish for me to try and hide anything from your genius.¡± ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll have to do a good spanking for you later, you naughty boy, but we have wasted enough time coddling me to have much to waste in flagellating you. We must away into the city.¡± ¡°Alas, it is not safe.¡± ¡°I am no whelp still wet and soft from inexperience. I have regained some fraction of what I once was. I am sure we will be safe.¡± ¡°Would that such boasts were true.¡± ¡°The truth is in the testing and the testing lies outside these lovely walls.¡± An End ¡°Is it ever going to end?¡± whispered the child to their elder. ¡°Everything ends.¡± the elder said. ¡°Why is it so long?¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Because plays are longer than movies?¡± ¡°But it¡¯s been several days.¡± The elder nodded and looked around. ¡°You¡¯re right. Maybe we should leave.¡± ¡°Ok, after this part.¡± said the child.