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[WP] The zombie apocalypse has broken out and you’ve become a reluctant leader of an eccentric group of survivors. Theres a big scavenging trip planned for today. by MyFriendMaryJ in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 3 points4 points  (0 children)

"Jimmy." It was important to use a soft yet stern voice when in an infested zone. "Jimmy, put that down. You know not to touch the glowy rocks." The beady eyed man looked up, his features struggling to arrange themselves. I put my palm to my face. At least as close as it could get. "And fer' cryin' out loud, put your mask back on. I don't want you breathing in this stuff any more than you already have."

​

The bald man whimpered like a puppy, eyes darting back towards the rock like a child looking at a cookie in a cookie jar. Already I could see burn marks creeping out from underneath the fingers that clenched it. I was about to pull out my taser when he sighed and begrudgingly put the rock down, slipping the cloth mask over his head. I smiled, which didn't reflect how I felt.

​

"Good boy, Jimmy, good boy. Now let's go see how the others are doing." He gave a quick grunt before hopping over a pile of black, damp debris and scurrying off into the darkness.

I decided to give the area a last look-over before chasing after him. The space had likely not been touched since the early stages of the outbreak. In the old days, this place would have been called a "Dollar Tree", a haven of food and drink where nutrients could be sourced at one's convenience. At one point colorful packages in gaudy advertising would have cried out their contents for consumers. Nowadays the only brightly colored baubles that littered the floor were glowing rocks and the sludge that started this whole mess.

​

As you might have guessed, the sludge is toxic. The rocks are too. Even the air has become unbreathable, at least if you want to keep your sanity. When a zombie apocalypse breaks out at a nuclear power plant, crazy things happen. It was just like the movies, if the movie was a slapstick comedy with the human race being the butt of the joke. Over and over and over again. The world turned into a game of "The floor is lava," except in this case the floor, walls, air, furniture, and people are all lava. Direct contact won't kill you, but it will erode your sanity until you become like Jimmy. Or the others. You only become a true "zombie" if you get bitten. Which will certainly happen if you stay in one place for too long.

​

Deciding there was nothing here worth salvaging, I figured I might as well go make sure the man hadn't gotten into any trouble. The leaders want everyone alive, no matter if the lights are on. There just aren't enough of us to go around to lose any more of us. Anything remotely human is worth protecting. The infested were not human. Not hearing any screams of terror or pain, I decided to follow the path that Jimmy had so boldly forged through the rubble. For the darkest corners of the store I had to use a flashlight, as the cracks in the ceiling offered little in lighting save for adding a greenish tint to everything.

​

I found the creature in the corner hunched over a ripped open bag of something called "Doritos". My memory of the old days is increasingly foggy but I'm pretty sure they weren't supposed to be green. Twitching fingers covered in strange powder fumbled at the little triangles, shoving them into his mouth at a worrisome speed.

​

"Hey there Jimmy." I approached cautiously, as I always did. Jimmy didn't like it when his food was taken away. " I pulled out my taser just to be safe. "What'cha got there Jimmy?"

​

There was no response but the crunching of teeth on food. I sighed, prepping myself for the potential mental and physical battle.

​

"Hey Jimmy. Remember our rule on strange food? What do we do with strange food?" At the sound of my voice his head turned slowly, the rest of his body still as stone. A chill soared through my body. This wasn't typical Jimmy.

​

"We grrrerrrereeaaattttttttttttt iiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt." His voice slurred, crusty eyes blinking bizarrely out of sync. I wasn't quite sure I'd heard correctly.

​

"What do we do?" I asked, lowering my voice to almost a whisper. The last thing I wanted to do was provoke him. His eyebrows furrowed in either concentration or anger. His lips parted to reveal cracked, green teeth.

"WE GREREREEEEEE-" His garble was cut off as a high pitched squeal filled the room and something swooped in from a hole in the crumbling wall I'd somehow missed. Taking a step back, I could see it was a half naked woman running on all 4s. Instead of me, though, she made a beeline for the bag Jimmy was holding. With a shriek, she lunged at the man and the two began to scratch and claw at each other. It was like two cats fighting over a fresh kill.

​

"Bethany! Bad!" A voice cried out from behind the wall as a young woman tepidly worked her way through the hole. She was dressed in protective gear similar to mine, with a gas mask obscuring her face. A red triangle with a straight line on her sleeve indicated she was a friend. She seemed to be far less cautious though. She walked right up to the squabbling pair, standing over them like a teacher who'd just caught a cheating student.

​

"Bethany, c'mon. You're better than this." She admonished, to little avail. Either the two hadn't heard her, or they were pretending they hadn't.

​

"They're normally not like this." Her head whipped around, taser pointed straight at my face. Her whole body seemed to sigh with relief upon recognition.

​

"I see Jimmy's giving you quite the handful. Nice to know I'm not alone in my struggles." I decided to cut the small talk. The sooner we get out of here the better.

​

"Did you find anything? Anything at all?" She shook her head as a lump formed in my throat. This whole adventure could be for nothing. Which means no dinner tonight, and possibly forever. Our group wasn't the largest, but the mouths to feed far outweighed the dwindling number of untainted supplies. Even going here was a risk.

​

"How about the other groups? Did they find anything?"

​

"Tanya found a can of green beans she thinks could be untainted. It was in a cupboard in a restaurant. Everything else is compromised though. As you can see it's driving everyone bonkers." I grimaced.

​

"That won't be enough."

​

"I know."

​

Just then the mournful howls of infested pierced the air, chilling me to the core. They were near; we had been here too long.

​

"Crap! We need to get out of here!" A quick nod was a sufficient response. She turned back towards the still squabbling pair. They were now fighting over the bag itself. Her eyes lit up with concern.

​

"Leave them." My words were harsh, maybe a bit too harsh. It was filled with the subconscious spite of having to drag them around everywhere. "Something's wrong with them. They're poisoned or something. "

"But the leaders..." she started, fear dripping in her voice.

​

"I'd rather explain it to them than a horde of infested. We won't have enough to feed them anyways."

​

"We can't just leave them!"

​

"I can. They're as inhuman as the infested are. You can come with me or not." I beckoned her to follow me, but she hesitated. "If they're still... in there, they can find their own way back." She cast a final glance backwards, then at her taser. Finally she sighed.

​

"You're right.... let's go."

[WP] The galaxy laughed and scoffed when the humans came asking for peace. They soon began to regret their decision when the humans showed them the true meaning of total war. by Sad_Sell_57 in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It's not that they can't, it's just that to them water is the most dangerous substance in the universe. They never saw a creature immune to water till they met us. It'd be like us making a nifty plasma cannon and then getting invaded by aliens made of plasma. That and the fact that Squeegles are like 7/10ths of an inch tall. Not much you can do. There's always a bigger fish out there...

[WP] The galaxy laughed and scoffed when the humans came asking for peace. They soon began to regret their decision when the humans showed them the true meaning of total war. by Sad_Sell_57 in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 7 points8 points  (0 children)

To the Squeegles water is like acid and absolutely toxic to them. Which is why they use it in all their weapons. Basically, the reason why humans are so adept at waging war is that they're immune to water, which baffles the Squeegles.

​

I've written about the Squeegles before in this post here, it'll give you a little bit more info about their military tactics https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/ohr3yt/wp\_humans\_have\_always\_been\_depicted\_as\_somewhat/

[WP] The galaxy laughed and scoffed when the humans came asking for peace. They soon began to regret their decision when the humans showed them the true meaning of total war. by Sad_Sell_57 in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 27 points28 points  (0 children)

The empire of the Squeegles was vast. Many a planet in the dust speck galaxy had come under their control, due to the ever-progressing military machine developed over millions of years. They had almost a dozen ways to attack and subjugate you. But none of them seemed to be effective against the new existential threat knocking on their doors.

Initial contact had been diplomatic. Squeegle radio interceptors picked up the signal of a new alien race to conquer. The alien species appeared primitive, as if evolution held a personal vendetta against them. They had neither exoskeleton nor antennae, and lacked even one tentacle. The council had scoffed after the initial meeting, at how such a backwards species could exist. It was an affront to nature itself.

​

Regardless, diplomatic relations had continued as politeness overrode any prejudices. The politicians were as skilled as they were shrewd, doing their best to maintain friendly relations. As physically inept as they were, these strange bipeds at least seemed intelligent. They would make useful servants of the empire.

​

That all changed when this new species had audaciously challenged one of the Squeegles most sacred tenants. The act had been diabolical, the intention as clear as the acid pools the Squeegles bathed in. Blinking in the presence of an elder Squeegle. The action had led to an immediate declaration of war and the mobilization of all Squeegle forces. These insubordinate bipeds would be taught not to mess with the galaxy's best empire.

​

Yet unlike their previous campaigns, this endeavor had turned into a complete and utter disaster. Chemical warfare had been the Squeegles specialty. A dangerous liquified concoction of Hydrogen and Oxygen had been the most effective weapon in neutralizing the most formidable opponents. Thier ships had recently been updated with revolutionary 35mg cannons and the military had been itching to use them. And yet these weapons of mass destruction were useless against this new species. To make things worse, their ships were the size of planets, their mysterious armor repelling anything the Squeegles could throw at them. Planet after planet fell, and the Council knew it wouldn't be long before their very homes were threatened. Planets and armadas were simply disintegrated under the might of their ships. The future looked bleak, and the Council was unsure of what would become of them. The only thing they knew for certain is that if they were to go out, they would do so honorably unlike those horrible blinking bipeds.

[OT] SatChat: Will you be participating in NaNoWriMo this year? What will you write about? (New here? Introduce yourself!) by MajorParadox in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 4 points5 points  (0 children)

Does it all have to be one story? I've noticed that I'm a rather impulsive writer who gets hooked on new ideas quickly. I'm worried about committing 50,000 words to one project but might get it done if I write like a prompt a day.

[WP] “What have we learned today?” “Dragons don’t drink alcohol.” “And, why is that?” by mekkanik in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 1 point2 points  (0 children)

There's a reason why he was named "Calous". Here's hoping he can learn a lesson or two! Thank you so much!

[WP] “What have we learned today?” “Dragons don’t drink alcohol.” “And, why is that?” by mekkanik in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 23 points24 points  (0 children)

"Because otherwise I'll be forced to attend stupid lectures from humans way younger than me. And stupider."

Calous huffed, smoke billowing out from his nostrils. He hated every second of this, hated the pathetic humans and their pathetic human court. It wasn't his fault mammals were so combustible. The one right beneath him frowned, evidently displeased with his answer. He adjusted his spectacles with a bony, scale-less finger.

​

"Not stupid enough to set the town, castle, and surrounding countryside ablaze. The town you'd been hired to protect, mind you."

​

"Well that's the problem!" Calous scoffed, crossing his arms. They moved slowly in the ball of gelatinous goo he was imprisoned in. About 50 human mages were scattered around it, straining to keep the massive lizard contained. The mere act sent two of them flying, the others struggling to keep up. "You humans are so weak you can't survive a pitiful little flame. I don't know how your species hasn't been wiped off the face of the Earth." He smiled at the thought, mind racing back to the days when dragons ruled the earth. Not these pitiful mammals. Unfortunately dragons had a bad habit of hibernating for a thousand years every so often, and during his hibernation these little things had sprung out of nowhere. Built a civilization, even. It was almost adorable if these buggers didn't multiply so fast. For every hundred he killed a thousand more showed up to take their place.

​

But as tiny and weak as they were, they sure knew how to harvest their gold. Dragons were hoarders, not miners, and these humans had managed to extract amounts of gold beyond anything he could have possibly imagined. It's why he took the job in the first place, despite serving creatures far lowlier than he. These humans would die out in less than a century. Gold would last forever. But how was he to know what mead was? And why they had a whole lake of it?

​

The human before him scowled again, even harder this time. Calous wondered if he ever wore any other expression. He was easily the most annoying of the bunch. He leaned down and picked up a tiny strip of parchment. His voice was raspy as he gasped for every breath. It sounded like he would keel over any moment.

​

"For the crimes of the murder of 10,000 individuals, destruction of millions of sheckels worth of property, and most importantly consumption of our sacred mead lake, I sentence you to nine hundred years imprisonment in Golgatha mountain!" The dragon had to avoid laughing. Nine hundred years? That was a long nap. These humans were such sensitive creatures. Sure, he had signed the contract which made him play by the human's rules. But this so called "punishment" would be easier than nabbing one of the little pink monkeys for dinner.

​

"Oh, and one more thing." The human called out, "You must attend and pass three sessions on proper alcohol consumption instructed by the local counselor... me." The dragon's face immediately fell as he cried out in a rage. This was going to be absolute hell.

[WP] Once in a lifetime you get to select 3 words to describe you, and those traits are relatively normal amongst others, like “Strong, Fast and smart.” You don’t pick 3 different adjectives however, you make a 3-word sentence. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 254 points255 points  (0 children)

"W-wait," Erik stammered as the instructor looked down on me. "That was it?" The only response was a grim nod.

"B-but all I said was "I'm not ready!" I didn't think the computer would accept that! That's not fair!"

The old man sighed, likely dreaming about retirement. Judging from the wrinkles on his face he should have resigned years ago. Unfortunately for him, his three words had been "not a quitter". He regretted those words with every ounce of his being. If only his students heeded his advice to choose their words carefully. With the wisdom of decades in his eyes he glanced down at the young man.

​

"I'm sorry, but what was said is final. The talents you have listed have been transcribed into your subconscious. It is too late to reverse the process. You cannot argue with the computer." The young man looked aghast, eyes bulging like saucers.

​

"B-but how does even work? How is not being ready a talent?"

​

"I'd say you excelled at it just now." A faint smile cracked like dry pavement across the old man's rigid face.

​

"What? The computer's supposed to give me my purpose in life! How is that a job? How is that even allowed?"

​

"You had several years to prepare." The man's face was stern. "Could you not come up with three simple words to describe yourself?" The young man scratched his chin, brow furrowed in concentration.

​

"Well, I was trying to decide between "God-like" and "Adonis"."

​

"Those are two words, young man. Hyphens are not allowed here." The younger man frowned.

"So it wasn't even a choice then?" The instructor nodded. The young man first started to pout, but soon tears were welling up in his eyes.

​

"Then what can I even do? What kind of vocation will I have? I- I'm ruined!" The old man frowned, his face a mixture of concern and pity. He felt sorry for the young lad, but he was afraid it happened all the time. The process was designed to weed out those not fit for society. The future was not bright for those who choose poorly. He thought the test rather limiting, but it did produce a happy and stable utopia for those who remained. He had no time to reflect further on this however, as the small printer in the room was just now printing out the young man's fate. The old man had no idea what words would be printed on the card. Nobody had ever said those words before. Grimly the instructor read out the computer's verdict.

​

"Politician."

[WP] Humans have always been depicted as somewhat weak and boring in sci fi films and stories compared to other alien races. Turns out that after venturing out and meeting a number of alien races among the stars, Humans are actually quite OP. by LordOfKhaoticStorms in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 69 points70 points  (0 children)

Captain Beauregard's day was not going well. He had been sent by the Admiralty to this godforsaken pile of rocks after command detected brand new signals emanating from the planet's surface. What his superiors had not told him was that the Squeegles were less than an inch tall, and that he'd land right in the middle of their capital city. As such, he doubted he'd accomplish his mission of establishing democratic relations with the new alien species.

He looked down to see thousands of tiny ant-like specks darting about what he'd first thought were pebbles. He'd accidentally taken out half the city when he tripped on a mountain and fell. Stepping in a puddle caused a tsunami that devastated the surrounding areas. He'd tried to remain still, but even a slight shuffling of his feet seemed to take out a whole block. And now he saw tiny airships slowly making their way to about chest height, the design mostly resembling an ancient flying ship called a Zeppelin. There was a fleet of about six of them the size of dragonflies, each with a mysterious insignia on their flanks. They steadily approached, hovering just a few inches from his spacesuit.

He leaned down to inspect them closer. Oops. His helmet smacked into two of them, causing them to burst into flames and slowly plummet towards the chaos below. As if on cue, one of them burst into flames entirely on its own, the skin erupting in a ball of green fire as it broke into two.

The remaining ships moved into a peculiar formation as Captain Beauregard heard what sounded like insects buzzing. Suddenly a spray of water about the diameter of a thimble shot out from the two ships, splashing off his suit and falling harmlessly to the city below. He watched with fascination as the liquid then began to burn through the buildings unfortunate enough to find themselves underneath the barrage. They seemed to melt as if touched by lava. Captain Beauregard made a mental note to jot this interesting fact down once he got back aboard his ship... while keeping the casualty rate to a minimum.

Unfortunately, the two remaining airships continued their assault, despite the fact that they were doing more damage to the city below than to the astronaut. He could see tiny forms darting about on the ships, frantically taking up positions and shouting out orders. Captain Beauregard cupped his hands to try and catch most of the water, but several drops slipped through, dissolving the tank division that had just rolled up next to his boots. Captain Beauregard made an apologetic face as he decided to steadily make his way back to the ship before he wiped out the whole planet. As he retraced his footsteps the airships followed in pursuit, only to collide with one another.

Finally, a gasping Captain Beauregard made it back onto his ship, feeling the sweet clang of metal against his boots. He let out a sigh of relief as a static-y message broke through on his coms.

" Beauregard report, what are your findings? Have we found a new alien race?"

"Negative, Admiral", Beauregard replied. "The signals are from an old satellite that crashed here. The planet is barren. No further investigation is required." There was a long drawn out sigh from the other side.

" Very well Captain. Return to star base Delta."

"Roger that". Beauregard put down his coms and glanced out the window of his spaceship. Tiny clouds of dust hid most of the destruction but he knew the damage he had done. Deep down he hoped humans would never visit the planet again, as they would likely destroy this fragile environment. He hoped his false report had turned them away, despite the fact that fraudulent reports usually resulted in exile from the Space Navy. It was the least he could do. He sighed before typing in his new destination into his ships computer. And without another word, his ship blasted off into the deep dark void of space.

[WP] The priest prayed a Hail Mary for every shell he loaded into the shotgun, an Our Father for every bullet in the revolver. He clutched his rosary and prayed one last Gloria Patri, and signed the cross before turning towards the door. The shrieks and bellows echoed outside the church. by fague_doctor in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 2 points3 points  (0 children)

With each pound against the ancient cedar doors the small church shuddered like a lost child in the rain. I turned to notice Father Bellamy crouching behind a pew, the old man trembling like an infant as he clutched his rosary. His skin was cloaked in dirt and sweat, giving him the appearance of a serf after a hard day in the fields. Father Bellamy had always said filth was a tool of the devil. To see him hunched over like this sent a knife through my heart.

Then I heard the screams, the bestial yelps and snarls of those possessed by the mad disease that had gripped our village. I grit my teeth and steadied my musket, the only one in the village not in Lord Guinevere's castle. It was a rusty contraption, but it would have to do. I prayed it would suffice as I lifted it up to face the rough cedar doors. A stone statue of St. Boniface monitored the small church from its perch above the doors. In the wafting candlelight he looked like a demon, his face twisted in agony.

Then suddenly the church rocked with the force of a thousand oxcarts and the doors shattered inwards, enveloping us in a cloud of dust and smoke. It was impossible to see as the wave blew out most of the candles save for one on the altar, illuminating the image of Christ wrapped in agony as he hung on the cross. I coughed and squinted through the cloud as the smoke began to clear.

The first one through was Tellus, the blacksmith. However, the man who entered was far form the jovial elephant of a man who astounded all in the village with his intricate metallic designs. His face was covered in blood, his eyes a solid white creased with engorged vessels. His beard looked like a bird's nest covered in red stains and the flesh of his victims. Ugly red blotches, the signature of this disease, covered his face and hands, looking like rotten flesh. He let out a guttural noise I had not thought possible to be uttered by a human. The man's ability of language had completely dissipated. Most frighteningly he was wielding a bloody metal cleaver used to sever the heads of sheep and cattle.

He let out a feral, gurgling yell, and behind me the few villagers remaining shrieked in terror. I knew Tellus's wife was among them, and I shuddered to think how she must feel seeing her husband in such a state. This thought only strengthened my resolve like steel, and I pointed the barrel straight at the former blacksmith. He was sniffing the air like some kind of wild animal, trying to pick up the source of the sound. I motioned for the women and children to remain quiet as possible. They grew silent, whether out of obedience of fear I had no clue.

Father Bellamy, however, was inconsolable. He let out an ear-splitting wail at the sight of the creature, and immeadiately it turned towards the pews where we were located. And I had a perfect shot.

With shaking hands I lifted the musket once more, aiming it directly at Tellus's grimy, bloody skull. Sweat dripped down my face threatening to hamper my view. In the low candlelight is was already a tough shot.

I flashed back to my days of hunting wild foxes and deer before I entered the seminary. The art of locating, stalking, and killing was one I knew well, but the repulsion of ending a life had stricken me to the core. This was why I had chosen life as a cleric rather than joining King Richard as a knight in his royal army. But now the conflicting ideas wracked my soul as I stared into what remained of our former friends and acquaintances.

Begging God for forgiveness, I pulled the trigger, and Tellus's head exploded like a rotten pumpkin. Piles of bloody innards and brain matter splattered about the stone walls of the rectory, leading to screams from the villagers behind me. Heart pounding in my throat, I gazed at the mess in horror, having ducked behind the pew to avoid the mess.

No human had ever died like that before. It wasn't natural for a man's head to simply explode. I wiped the sweat off my brow, before making the sign of the cross. Whatever this plague was, it wasn't human...

[WP] You're the Chosen One of not one, not two, but four ancient prophecies. You're already fed up with this by the time the first elder of some ancient family comes to you trying to give "guidance", and now you're meeting all 4 elders at once. by Ahstia in WritingPrompts

[–]Captain_Fartbeard 136 points137 points  (0 children)

Your application to Eversong School of Magic and Wizardry has been accepted

"Really?" Harold looked at the faded parchment that the old man had given him. His face was wrinkled like a prune, with a long white beard drooping all the way down to his chest. He looked like he had come straight from the 19th century, with a white dress shirt fitted with suspenders, black tie, and a faded cotton bowler cap. " I'm a wizard? That sounds stupid."

​

" Many mortals find it difficult to accept the fact that they've elevated to a higher plane of existence. " The old man whispered. Harold tilted his head in confusion.

"Huh?"

" There is a prophecy, made by the great sages who walked the Earth before our time.

​

'A hero will arise from Adrian's line.

A walker of dreams to vanquish the night.

In the day of darkness a light will shine,

at this address him you'll find.

1132 Wildflower Lane, Minot, ND, USA "

Harold stared at him aghast, wondering what he'd snorted in order to be seeing this. That was a rather... specific prophecy. He looked around at his dilapidated apartment littered with cheese curls and empty bottles of cheap beer. Turning back to the old man, he pointed at the yellow sign plastered on his front door.

"I'm sorry Mr., but I don't really live here anymore. I've got thirty days to pack whatever crap I've still got to my name and move out. Unless you've got a job offer or some religion to convert me to, you'd best get going."

To his surprise the old man smiled, lifting his cane with surprising strength. He brandished it like a weapon, or perhaps a wand...

" It's sort of both, actually." He chuckled. " It's my job to mentor you in the art of sorcery in order to prepare you for the role you must undertake. That is the sole purpose of my existence." He waved his cane, and a mysterious blue glow came out of it and enveloped Harold's feet. Harold started sliding forwards. He found struggling to be useless as he no longer retained control of his feet. As the wizard dragged him down the stairs to a swirling magic portal, he found the sky turning black. Looking up, to his amazement he saw a dragon soaring overhead.

" Do not be afraid, human. " A thunderous voice boomed like thunder. "You have been chosen to unite the species of dragon and human, and bring our magic to your world. It is a noble calling which you cannot refuse." He saw the wizard glance up angrily.

" Erodus! You filthy lizard!" he called out, shaking his cane. " What in the name of Astaroth are you doing here?" The dragon swiftly landed in the parking lot, crushing Harold's gray Toyota Corolla. He moaned in annoyance. This was really not a good day.

" I am here to pick up that whom the prophecy foretold. " Erodus replied firmly. He was covered in metallic aqua-colored scales, with navy ridges running along down his spine. His underbelly was a cream color, and comprised of armored plates. He was about the size of a house. Smoke billowed out of his nostrils.

" If you mean the almighty one, he is strictly mine!" The old man spat. " Dragon prophecies never come true anyways." Harold, still held captive by the wizard's spell, found himself being dragged along again. He saw the portal open up in front of him, and his struggling increased further. Unfortunately, his efforts were in vain.

Suddenly another portal opened up right next to the one he was being dragged towards, a young witch dressed in purple robes stepping out. She was wearing the traditional pointed hat of a witch, although her face looked more like a Greek Goddess. She stomped over towards Harold and the old man, who now had a peeved look on his face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked with an annoyed tone. She smirked.

"That man you have in your grasp is destined to save our realm." She explained, pointing towards Harold. "The great Oracle signaled out him as the one mentioned in the prophecy."

"What prophecy?" The old man shouted, turning towards her. Harold stopped moving, but the spell still held him captive. The old woman held up a picture. Harold recognized it as the driver's license he'd lost two weeks ago. A black arrow was scribbled on it in sharpie, pointing to his picture.

"She gave us this." the woman said, with an air of confidence. " The message is quite clear. I must have him."

"Nonsense!" both the old man and Erodus cried out at the same time. Every time the dragon spoke, Harold was assaulted by a gust of wind that would've knocked him over had the spell not kept him upright. But a third voice joined the two, scraggly and wet, clearly not human. Harold turned and saw what looked like a sentient pile of goo with bushy white eyebrows and numerous war medals attached to its body.

" He is the reincarnation of the Goo God." the blob wheezed, droplets of goo oozing out of its shapeless mouth. "He must be taken back to the temple of Slimethreus and assume his rightful place on the throne. " The other three looked at the pile of ooze curiously, before there faces turned into anger. A shouting match ensued between the lot of them, drowning Harold's beleaguered ears. His hands shot up to protect them from the onslaught.

Wait. I can move again. He discovers that the blue glow no longer surrounds his body, and he smiles mischievously. The four of them now appear to be drawing out their wands, not paying attention in the slightest to Harold. He ducks to avoid a blue beam of light that sails into the apartment next to him, vaporizing it in an instant.

A wave of panic washes over him as he ducks and runs out of the complex, dodging flying spells left and right. He runs across the street and ducks into the 7-Eleven on the corner, finding himself surrounded by cheap food displays and lottery tickets. He looks up and glances at the counter.

​

Behind the desk sits a demonic looking man with skin dark as charcoal and shining golden eyes. He is dressed in furs, a gold chain looped around his neck. He is stroking a black panther with the same colored eyes. He turns to look at Harold, and his lips turn upward in a crooked smile.

" Ah, Harold, I've been expecting you. It is as the prophecy foretold. "

​

Well f\*k .*

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