《The twisted in the tale》


 Ink

    Once upon a time, but not too long ago really, in a world that seems suspiciously like our own, there was a girl who lived for stories. There was seldom a time from the first moment she learned to read that she did not have her nose in one book or another, and even before that her favourite toy to chew upon as she toddled about was a child¡¯s picture book of the soft plastic kind.


    In her circumstances however it was hardly surprising, she grew up bouncing from home to home, and a handful of books was practically the only thing save the clothes she stood up in she got to take with her. However, her insular nature did make finding a permanent place to call her own challenging. So she eventually was cast adrift until eventually, she found herself in one of the few places she would settle for any length of time, a group home, where her stories finally spilled out, touching the lives of the others who were sharing her erstwhile home.


    They were distrustful at first, waiting for her to inevitably vanish, but when they found to their surprise that she never did they started to warm up to her bit by bit. yet even they eventually started drifting away one by one. The home found it easier to home more energetic kids, at least easier than the quiet girl who stayed out of sight most of the time and always got tongue-tied around strangers. and just to make matters worse the few who saw her at her best, reading her tales to others and patching scraped knees felt it would be bad for the other children for her to suddenly leave, and so she settled.


    The school presented no issues to her, save the obvious bullies, (she wished she could say there were no issues at all, but bullies are almost a default no matter where you are,) she could deal with that though, this was hardly her first rodeo, and you learn a few tricks in time.


    She eventually moved on from the school with solid marks, but no idea where to go from there. Finally finding a job and a real sanctuary in the form of the only book shop not owned by one of the big companies in town, the owner was nice enough, and the pay allowed her to get a little flat of her own, sure it was a little scabby, and not in the best part of town, but it was a place, HER place, and not too far from the old home, so she popped in on occasion to read to the kids, finding with each visit less and less familiar faces, until the day she stepped in and found the entire place had not a single familiar face. She had to admit that was rough on her. But still, she kept it up, reading to the new kids just like she¡¯d always done.


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    Just like that time swirled on, and she found herself a comfortable little eddy, for now, lining the walls with more and more books until they took up more of her home than she did. (Not that that was saying a lot, as previously mentioned the place wasn¡¯t exactly sizeable.)


    Then it all changed once again, with a strange smell, an explosion, then pain, and darkness.


    Her world became a constant rhythm, beep, beep, beep, and what she had left was the stories she remembered. Then the unexpected, something that made her heart leap, familiar voices, and they were telling her stories. They sounded far older than the last time she met them, but they were unmistakably the kids she used to read to. They asked her to wake up, and she tried, she tried so hard to wake up, but it was like trying to wake up from the worst night''s sleep times ten thousand. Even thinking much felt like swimming in molasses, let alone waking up.


    So all she could do was listen, hang on, remember, and do her best to hang in there, Listening to the stories, they anchored her, helped her not drown in the darkness, but she wasn¡¯t getting out of this mess, merely treading water, As one by one, the voices started to slip away again. Not that she blamed them, they had their own lives to live after all. But it still sucked, and without the stories, she was finding it harder and harder to keep afloat.


    Still, some of the kids stuck around, and now they sounded much older, when one of them started talking about their WEDDING she couldn¡¯t help but wonder how long she had been like this, after that even she eventually stopped visiting, what was her name again? Wait, what was her own name? She couldn¡¯t even remember, but she did remember the girl really loved the story about the hungry caterpillar. She¡¯d read the tales so often they clung to her, even as her other memories faded, and slipped away, she clasped at them desperately like bubbles, in fact just like bubbles, as one by one they burst. Yet still, the stories swirled around her, they¡¯d been her constant companion for far too long now, and she wondered if maybe the darkness around her wasn¡¯t water, but ink.


    The Beep, beep, beep that was her life was changing, as she heard the panicked nurses scrambled to try to pull her back, she felt a sharp searing pain, and another, and another about as the rhythm switched to a beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppppppppp


    She was just so tired now, so tired of constantly treading water, maybe if the dark is ink whatever comes next won¡¯t be so bad, she thought to herself, as the ink thickened, and swallowed her up, maybe whatever is over there will have some good stories.


    ¡°Hmmm well you like your precious stories so much, maybe we can help each other out, depends if you¡¯re willing to make a deal I guess,¡± said a voice in the darkness.

 The Devil is an angel too.

    The darkness started to brighten, as a smiling man stepped from the shadows, The girl had already read enough stories to not like where this was going, he looked handsome, in an immaculately tailored suit in silver white. He looked at her once and tutted.


    ¡°Oh tsk tsk, how unfortunate, I do so like the cut of your jib, but the rules are quite clear on this m¡¯dear, so sad.¡± He didn¡¯t look sad, instead, he looked positively predatory, as in front of him an arcade-style machine appeared, on the screen was a game over notification, in blood spatter pattern (always a classic), and a notice saying insert coins to continue, alongside a countdown rapidly approaching zero. She was having a hard time believing how calm she was in the circumstances, but it was a lot harder to get into a good panic without a body full of adrenaline. also, what was her name? She was pretty sure she was not called ¡°the girl¡± but any attempt to recall was met with nothing. Even without a body, she felt a hint of panic as the timer flashed down.


    3.........


    2........


    1........


    Then the machine vanished with a midi-style funeral dirge. The stranger just smirked at that, ¡°oh dear it seems that your time is up.¡±


    ¡°You mean that was real?¡± She groaned, ¡°I always thought that was a myth.¡±


    ¡°Myths and stories are power little one,¡± the smiling stranger replied, that wide smirk on his face both eerie and probably impossible for any human being. Like the creature just pulled this form out of a wardrobe for this occasion, if the situation was not so desperate she would likely have been pondering what other forms it had, or, more likely running and screaming in terror. But while she was definitely clever, nobody ever accused her of being smart once her curiosity was roused, and without that handy little adrenal gland telling her to run like hell her chances of doing the smart thing went from infinitesimally small to absolutely nil.


    ¡°OK, so what happens now?¡± She asked. Pretty sure she was going to regret it, but definitely lacking a preponderance of alternative options here and now.


    ¡°Well, there are a few options for discerning individuals who find themselves financially inconvenienced in their final moments, sorry I can¡¯t just spot you, if we go round doing that then everybody would expect it, and the ferryman isn¡¯t running a charity here you know?¡± He muttered flipping through a pamphlet with the title ¡°help I¡¯ve died and can¡¯t get up.¡± He seemed to suddenly remember, ¡°Oh that¡¯s right, I forgot to introduce myself, I apologise for the breach in etiquette, not that miss manners usual rules cover post-mortem behaviour, and it is up to me to set a good example. You can call me Rob, I will be your Random Omnipotent Being this evening, I¡¯d ask your name but, well you don¡¯t have one right?¡± He smirked, ¡°don¡¯t worry you¡¯ll get it back as soon as you¡¯ve paid off your tab, now let¡¯s talk options shall we?¡±


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    She didn¡¯t like the sounds of this, last time anybody had talked to her in this tone she¡¯d been washing dishes for a month, and how she could remember that and not her own damn name was beyond her, she had to get it back, so she did the stupidest thing she could in this situation, and asked. ¡°so what are my options?¡±


    ¡°OHHH Right down to business, I must say I like that, usually at this point people are all, but what about my family, can I send a message to my friends, can I just leave a note to name my heir so that we don¡¯t end up with my death causing a civil war? who will feed my fish? Please spare me, wahh wahh wahhhh, like all that¡¯s my department, If they wanted to live longer then they shouldn¡¯t have done stuff that killed them. but, I digress, the options, first off you could work the debt off with the soul collection department, I don¡¯t suggest it though, they¡¯re a miserable bunch, and that¡¯s quite understandable, considering our client¨¨le seldom volunteer to leave this mortal coil, and often shoot the messenger, or at least try to. Job perks include invulnerability, intangibility, and invisibility to all but your target, it¡¯s very In. Downsides include being a mopey git constantly whining about your victims, and, I¡¯m pretty sure this will be the deal-breaker for you, the first thing we have to do there is erase your memories, including your precious stories, and we don¡¯t want that do we?¡±


    The thought of that filled her with more dread than her death, or for that matter finding out that it wasn¡¯t the end but she¡¯d failed a door check vs. some kind of cosmic bouncer. Come to think of it, maybe that says a few worrying things about her as a person.


    ¡°Not an option,¡± She replied, ¡°what else you got?¡±


    ¡°well you could try simply refusing to pay, I hear Limbo is lovely at this time of year, but that way lies the risk of losing yourself, and what passes for your mind, yet again I don¡¯t think that option would really suit your needs, so we¡¯ll just put a pin in that one shall we?¡±


    ¡°yeah, eternal wandering? Think I¡¯ll pass,¡± she snarked, she had no idea why she was being sarcastic with an omnipotent being capable of deciding her fate with a snap of its fingers, let alone one twisted enough to have chosen to model their voice on Q or Discord. Given those characters'' backgrounds, it was hardly a reassuring thought, but when your ultimate fate is being decided it is hardly the time to hold your opinions in reserve. ¡°So do you have any options that aren¡¯t quite so centuries of damnation sounding?¡±


    ¡°Oh funny you should ask,¡± Rob said, the mask of humanity slipping for a moment, revealing a hint of something terrifying beneath, ¡°as you¡¯ve no doubt realised by now I¡¯m here to make you an offer.

 Whats the big deal?

    Rob snapped his fingers, and she suddenly found herself sitting at a table with a tea set neatly laid out on it, alongside a mountain of treats, (as if she could even think about something like eating right now, well obviously she could, the hard bit was not thinking about it now she''d started. As an intangible being could she even eat? Would she gain weight? Now it was tempting to try, just to see what would happen if she did, but maybe focusing on the entity capable of ripping her soul from the void before thinking about the little things like cupcakes would be a good idea right now.)


    ¡°I am what you would call, in mortal terms a god, lower case G mind you, the distinction is important. Now loath as I am to admit it, that means that I answer to a higher power, a big G if you will. He asked me to recruit you, or send you to what comes next should you refuse, I do so hope you don¡¯t follow through on a silly idea like that though. The boss would really not appreciate your refusal, and it is definitely in your best interests not to irritate a God, they know how to hold a grudge. It¡¯s your choice, but a refusal would likely be an uphill battle, pushing a boulder, for all eternity, so I highly advise you think carefully, capisce?¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± she replied, it seemed simple enough so far, ¡°and this involves me how?¡±


    ¡°PATIENCE, I¡¯m getting to that.¡± Rob snapped, not in a serious way thankfully, thinking about it she doubted he did anything seriously, and sincerely hoped after that little mask slip earlier that he never would, he seemed like the sort of individual for whom severity came with consequences. ¡°Now, my employer suffers from the most unfortunate condition an immortal can suffer from.¡±


    ¡°That being?¡±


    ¡°Boredom¡± Rob replied with a smirk, ¡°when you get to be a few billion years old things get a little tedious, especially if you are constantly babysitting the same handful of worlds, and dealing with the same old problems, from the same kinds of mortals over, and over, and over again. It¡¯s like an eternity of weeding.¡±


    ¡°So let me get this straight, what you want is for me to act as some kind of cosmic jester, and ripped my soul out of the void because your boss was BORED?¡± She snapped. She wasn''t even sure if she technically had a head at the moment and this guy had somehow made it ache. She was scared, confused, but most of all ANGRY. This smug git was not helping in that regard. But at least she wasn¡¯t in quite as much trouble as she could have been. Without her body, her emotions were muted enough that she hadn¡¯t hauled off and punched him one. (Probably just as well, as clobbering a god, either big G or little g didn¡¯t seem like a good plan, though how much trouble she would have been in would likely vary on a case-by-case basis.)


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    ¡°Well more like a little monkey balancing on a ball, an amusing little diversion. If you prefer I could send you downstairs to work off your debt.¡±


    ¡°Oh gee that sounds so tempting, PASS, so I¡¯m getting isekai¡¯ed with some kind of cheat power or something? Cause having read some of that crud I have to say I have zero desire to be involved in that mess, even if the alternative is hell.¡±


    Rob cackled at that, ¡°Oh you mortals still genuinely believe that happens? Seriously? Why would we do something pointless like that? Your struggles are what make you lot so fun to play with, plus as I already explained to you our boss manages that world. Transferring heroes is all well and good in theory, but all that nonsense does is leave a hell of a mess to clean up later, and usually a whiny, entitled demigod brat who will lean on daddy for everything. Then probably either try to supplant his role in the realm or get all Oedipal.¡±


    At that he rolled his eyes, looking a little ticked at the thought, (probably the most genuine emotion he had expressed this entire discussion come to think of it. This must be the cosmic equivalent of being sent out for milk and cigarettes. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder how many times he had been sent out on little jobs like this.)


    ¡°Why would we want that mess? Cheat powers just imbalance things, and that leads to paperwork and legendary weapons that have to be kept track of. It¡¯s more trouble than it¡¯s worth. Of course, some of the more incompetent lesser gods still try it on occasion, playing with mortals was something of a trend in your old world a few millennia ago. Mainly just for fun though. These days your gods don¡¯t bother, the mess your so-called ¡°heroes¡± leave behind is always such a pain, besides even the most creative things they could cook up pale in comparison to how thoroughly you lot mess with each other. It would be funny if it wasn¡¯t so pathetic.¡±


    ¡°Then what do you want me for?¡± She asked, this was getting confusing now, and she was beginning to think back on chess games, wondering if this was how the pawns felt. (She sucked at chess, partially because there was nobody to play with her, and partially because even if there was she hated sacrificing the little pieces, now she was thinking back on it she wondered if, with sentient pawns, the chess board would rapidly go full-on revolution. Hell as a newly aware pawn herself she¡¯d support it.


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s simple,¡± Rob replied with another grin, ¡°we want you to make, and spread stories.¡±


    At that she felt her nonexistent heart quicken, she sat back and did her best to look nonchalant, (she had to do her best to get the most out of this mess after all.)  ¡°OK¡± she said, pouring herself a cup of tea, ¡°now you have my attention.¡±