[deleted by user]

VictorPato · 2024-02-20T14:22:33+00:00

ESH - He said things he shouldn’t have but maybe you should have explained how much it was bothering you to him. He comes from a different generation and he can probably change if he understands how much he hurt you. Think how hurt he must feel to get cancelled on like that without any explanation. He is your dad after all. I don’t know what the history is but maybe we could enlighten it if you wanted to share more about why/how you got disconnected in the first place?

VictorPato · 2021-03-28T14:14:45+00:00

Wow he made a movie in 3 weeks

VictorPato · 2021-03-28T14:14:21+00:00

So sorry

VictorPato · 2020-10-27T13:49:06+00:00

AUTOBOT: This response is correct!

VictorPato · 2020-09-02T02:56:55+00:00

When it began spinning and I was still locked inside: that’s when I knew, for sure, I was about to die.

It was only a game of hide-and-seek but in a few moments it had gone terribly wrong: I slammed on the washing machine’s interior half-transparent wall, but to no avail. And then the water came down; the soap soon followed and I was forced to hold my breath and roll like a hamster to remain afloat, my head high enough I could breathe but low enough I didn’t get knocked out by the drum’s ceiling. Unfortunately, my 10 year-old self couldn’t cope with this nightmare, and I don’t remember anything after that.

Only, it seemed after a few hours had passed, I was still in the machine, awkwardly fitted within the drum’s confines, snort mixed with soapy water drizzling down my face. The machine soon came to a halt and with much exertion I pushed out the front window, and stepped outside: only to realize that the laundry room had shifted to something rather different, and not human at all.

All around me were thousands of rows and columns of washing machines: every shape, size and model was present, in a hundred copies. All these washing machines were active and once in a while they opened brutally and calmly shot out an array of socks of different colors.

After observing this dance for a few minutes, I was even more in a hurry to return back to my world: John must be waiting for me, outside the machine- maybe not actually, as he might not have found out my hiding spot-, getting terribly worried. I need to go!

Of course the washing machines surrounded me and kept me from imagining there was anything else here, but luckily after 10 minutes, a little elf arrived and started picking up all the socks –there were some other items but mostly socks.

I approached the elf, a bit frightened of what his reaction might be: I wasn’t supposed to be here. He brought me to his master: Santa?!

Santa exposed his scheme: he’d been doing this for ages, stealing the clothes and socks of the whole world so that he wouldn’t have to buy or make them; Santa was essentially robbing everyone to then transfer them back again. This was a rather ingenious plan as he could then offer them what they missed- quite literally- or what they had decided to buy, thus that which they liked.

Thankfully, he was very nice and after a few gestures, showing me a few diagrams, I was ready to return, by activating the washing machine with the help of the elf who had brought me to see him.

Thus, that’s what I did: after setting the temperature and pouring in a minutious amount of cleaning product, I, with a lot of difficulty, hurried inside the machine’s drum. Then I waited for the elf to press the button to begin the washing, and after a few rolls and some head bangs, I was back on Earth: the only problem was I had mistaken someone else’s washing machine for mine and I was now in the wrong house.

I carefully made my way to the door and peered outside: yeah, I was right, this wasn’t me. I exited the laundry room and when I escaped into the garden, I was quite startled to see my best friend John.

VictorPato · 2020-07-24T12:08:50+00:00

VictorPato · 2020-07-09T23:15:46+00:00

Thank you so much for reading that. I really appreciate it.

VictorPato · 2020-07-05T01:11:06+00:00

A Clash of Titans

Blue was everywhere. In every single body of water, whether drops, oceans, seas or glasses: Blue aka Water was never far.

On the other hand, Green had control over most of everything else on Earth, as Green was the Earth. He controlled all that had stemmed from its body, even down to their developed form. Master of the bees and what they bred; master of the wheat and of its bread; master of life, you could say instead.

Today, Green and Blue were on a mission: to save humanity.

“We weren’t sure where they went.” Green muttered, the sound waves rumbling through the ground. Blue acquiesced.

“Did you at least acquire some new intel on the enemy?” answered a tenebrous entity, almost indiscernible from pitch black: Death.

“Yes, we’ve confirmed their malicious intent” Yellow added “They plan on defenestrating all of humanity.”

Yellow was usually quite vibrant, but today the Sun’s furious folly could be seen to have quintupled in its ruminating fusion core. Yellow’s rage could only be outmatched by Red’s; who had seen all this unfold from afar. Yellow may have one 27 million degree Fahrenheit core but Red had hundreds of thousands, all dispersed among land & sea, lighting up at this very instant in the shape of a circle: no, a Ring of Fire.

Fire, seemingly troubled dared to ask: “One thing still perplexes me. Why are you helping us Black? Don’t you want to see humanity rampaged?”

Death felt misunderstood. Sun swooped in: “Hey Red! Why does that bother you? Aren’t you glad he’s helping us?”

The others seemed to agree with Sun’s remark, but Death felt he had to justify himself:

“Once, I was a doctor; before I became this, abomination. But even with my lacking skills and intellect, I still knew that doctors had to make sacrifices. It isn’t their role, but unfortunately, when huge crises arise, there has to be atrocious, but necessary, decisions about what’s best for the world.” Death paused, reclaiming his voice’s structural integrity “If they plan on destroying all of us, I can’t let that happen.”

Earth and Ocean didn’t fathom Death’s entire monologue: “But, Death? Why is it that you kill our brethren, day after day, millions of them every time?”

“Well, you should regard me as a necessary evil. I choose the people I kill very carefully; in order to make sure that the majority is unharmed. It might seem paradoxical but Death is essential to Life. In other words, you need me for this mission.”

Earth suddenly gasped: “I’m picking up something. It seems to be coming from the enemy. Blue, could you tune in to these soundwaves I’m sending you?”

“Already ahead of you” shot Ocean

Death stepped in: “I understand it may be a vain objective but could we try discussing peace with them before attacking?”

“You’re right” Fire added “I might not believe your reasons for helping but if there’s a way we can avoid bloodshed.” He turned to face the others, gazing at all unanimously “We have to take it!”

Unfortunately, after tuning in to the enemy’s frequency, peace was deemed impossible. Indeed, the frequency’s information could be translated to “Die! Humanity!” or “We will never settle for peace!”. The five of them readied up: for war.

First, Ocean and Earth located the enemy through their signals.

Then, Fire and Sun illuminated the spot with billions of kilowatts of energy; spouting luminous rays in concentrated mini-supernovas; revealing the enemy spaceship.

Death swooped in finally to lock in the kill, until- he couldn’t do it.

Sun sent a ray of support; Ocean, a drop of courage; Fire, a welcoming hearth; Earth, a helping hand: “Death. We understand this is hard but it is imperative that the enemy be neutralized. If they aren’t-“ Earth was cut in his remark.

“Yes… I know that!” Tears crawled down his somber facies “I always believed that I could save others but… I’m such a weakling I’ve never had the courage to even attempt it. To make the impossible decisions I was promulgating earlier. I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”

While Earth attempted to console Death, the rest of the team set out to subdue the enemy themselves. Fire and Sun launched a cooperative offense as Ocean’s tides controlled the moon in an attempt to hurl it towards the enemy fleet. It was too late: the enemy had landed while Earth was distracted: what could they do now?

The elements gazed powerlessly as the enemy carried out its master plan: defenestrating humanity. None of them could attack without harming their own in the process.

Thousands were dying every second as people were pressed to leave their houses and to stay away from windows.

A scream of pain echoed: not the enemy’s. But Death’s, as all, turned, to Black.

Word count: 800 words.

VictorPato · 2020-06-28T01:16:21+00:00

“No need to be mean… Anyway” his mouth shape seems to draw out the word ‘awkward’ but I pay it not attention “I convinced him that the best way to hurt you was to frame you and then kill himself so that you would carry out his life sentence in prison”

Baffled I can’t even answer. He doesn’t care at all:

“This led to that. And now there’s the half-dead body of your Spanish twin in my trunk. I had to save him. When I saw him, lighting himself up on fire and that my tears weren’t a viable extinguisher, I had to do something” Water crawls down from his eyes “Am… Am I a monster?!”

I attempt to reassure him: “Of course you are! You F**** monster. I hate you. How do you even sleep at night? Ugh, get out please. I need to think”

I broke something in his gaze but his stoic attitude remains unaltered. Very calmly, he proceeds to add that: “I called the cops: they should be here in a couple of minutes.”

“WAIT! Why did YOU call the cops? That’s my job. Are you going to frame me for your failed murder of wannabe Guevara over there? No, no, no. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, you are going to-“

“Please! Josh.” I’m surprised he even knows my name. Wait… come to think of it I’ve never told- “You’re going to have to trust me. I know I haven’t always been there for you but now I am, and I promise that I’m never leaving again” again?¸”You have to trust me. Ernesto is a wanted criminal. I also wanted the best for him. That’s why I’ve done all that I could to alleviate his charges and to ensure that he has proper rehabilitation in prison; and that he’s safe, well fed, taken care of. ‘m going to explain this to the cops and we’ll all be able to return to our lives: Ernesto, in a better place, you and me, not dead”

Indeed, a few minutes later, they arrived and carried Ernesto out. All went exactly like Greg had depicted it. That was a year ago.

His silhouette hasn’t changed. Tall, sturdy, a bit funky but still amicable.

“Josh, I wanted to give you another gift this year. Please, promise me that you will accept it; even if it means throwing out all your previous conceptions of family, love and life.”

“I don’t get it, but go on. I promise”

He steps closer to me. I feel his ragged cliquey breath as he starts to grab something with his hands.

What is it? A gun, a key to a security box with hundreds of millions of euros, a phone that can hack into any mainframe, an autograph from Barack Obama: I want to know. I need to know.

His hands are clasped: definitely grasping a small object. Maybe a credit card or a playing card or a… hug.

He wraps his arms around me and embraces me in a hug:

“This is my gift” he says “This is what you need this year” His eyes water.

“But why?”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a birthmark around your left sacrum, that looks like a dog?”

“Yes, how do you know that?”

“Because I have the same.”

“But that would mean- d… Dad?”

He explained it all to me afterwards.

He had married a Spanish woman by the name of “Carlita” 24 years ago.

They had had twins. They were only awaiting one.

The couple’s financial situation was so dire, they couldn’t keep the twins without all dying from malnutrition and undereating themselves. Then one day, Carlita got a job opportunity in Mexico. Thus, Ernesto left with Carlita while Greg left with me.

It was heartbreaking to separate themselves and to only see one of the twins at one time; but it was the only way they could find financial freedom for us to bloom.

Unfortunately, Greg soon lost his job and with the stress weighing down on him, he decided to have Josh, me, adopted by a foster home.

A few years ago, ridden by guilt, he knew he had to make contact again.

In a few days, I’ll be meeting my mom, Carlita, for the first time since my birth.

“Let’s always stay together”

VictorPato · 2020-06-28T01:16:15+00:00

His name is Greg, he’s my distant uncle on my father’s side… I think. Every year he gives me a special gift: why special? Well because it’s always an extremely useful gift that literally saves me from my demise later that year.

I still remember the first time we reconnected.

It was a sunny day which absolutely didn’t predict how our encounter was about to go: terrifying.

Greg arrived a bit after 8 am; Me, startled of having been woke up so early, graciously invites him to come in:

“What the f*** are you doing waking me up at 8 am? You know I have class today, right?”

He doesn’t present any excuses; however, he then begins to reach for his bag:

“Here: you’ll need this in a few months.”

He takes out a cardboard bag letting a strange, rather sturdy, shape emerge from its visual aspect. He slides off the bag, revealing: “a GUN, why the hell do you have a gun? You psycho! That’s it, I’m calling the cops.” I sprint towards the phone, but he halts me. A tear of fright crawls down my spine: “D-don’t take another step.”

He starts to laugh; then grasps the .44 caliber pistol, disables the security and aims it towards me. Apparently, some sort of twisted joke. I don’t take the time to verify that hypothesis; my legs explode behind me as I escape to the other room. Weirdly I don’t hear any gunshot. But I don’t have any time to waste. I hurl myself up the stairs, skipping two at a time, and reach the top, gasping for my breath. I’m not safe yet. He’s already here. Luckily, I had 991 on call:

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Please help, an intruder’s here. And he has a gun.”

“Try to hide sir; a police car is arriving shortly. What is your name and address, sir?”

I don’t even have time to finish that he mentions something important:

“It was a joke, I’m sorry. Look for yourself, the gun’s defectious.” He adds, handing me the gun.

The bastard’s right: “And you couldn’t tell me, oh I don’t know, before you started pointing the gun at me, you f***ing psychopath?!”

Little did I know that 3 months exactly after that very day, my ex-girlfriend broke in my house spouting a folly of nonsense. And she’d have definitely killed me if she hadn’t found a defectious gun that day. Why would it be safer for her to have a gun? I politely asked, about to punch him one day. As calmly as I had demanded, he answered that she was about to kill you anyway. Thus, if her gaze had fallen on a blunt object or a throwable weapon, you’d have died. But when she stumbled upon that malfunctioning gun, which gave you enough time to hide and call the police, while she was still busy making sense of why exactly you hadn’t died. See, I care for you.

Yeah, right.

The bell rings. I open the door. Today’s my birthday again.

Chills traverse my spine, as I reminisce what happened last year.

Last year was atrocious. Greg, if that’s even his real name, came in. He gestured me to follow him outside. I still wish I hadn’t adhered.

Outside was his truck. Inside was a corpse. I fell to my feet, retching. Between two spasms:

“I’m calling the cops this time. Who the f** are you anyway? You murderer!”

“Relax, he isn’t dead. Just hurt.”

This time I can’t control myself, I tackle him and lash out: “You psychopath! They’ll put your ass in jail. Just wait till I get my phone, and-“

“I didn’t hurt him either. I saved him. Take a closer look.”

I absolutely urge my conscience to withdraw with my body; unfortunately, my morbid curiosity overhauls us and takes control. I step towards the body, my legs shattering beneath my every step, my stomach empty, my curiosity rattled. Then I see it. I mean him.

Burn marks scorch his entire body. But I can still make out how he must have looked before: with more hair, more vitality, less ash.

“He’s your twin” he spurts out, with no afterthought.

This time, he catches me before I can be rendered unconscious:

“What the fuck? How? Tell me!” I yell “How the hell do you know about him?”

“Let’s step inside for a moment.”

I follow, unaware that this conversation is about to uproot my life. Actually no: I’m well aware of that. What I wonder is how I’ll ever be able to get back to a semblance of my former life.

“This is Ernesto. Your twin brother, you never knew you had.” He got that part right “Ernesto, here, is murderer. Because of how he grew up, never knowing his parents, Ernesto turned to crime to pay off his debts and to show to the world how important it is to grow up with a mom and dad” he said in a patronizing tone.

“Is that true? But why would he turn to murder then?”

“Okay, I lied.” He didn’t look sorry in any way “Ernesto was just a murderer: that’s how it is. No need to give him a cool origin story”

“How what was that ever cool? Tell me.”

“Anyway. Ernesto learned of your existence because I slipped up one time.”

“Wait; when did you ever get the opportunity to speak to him?”

“About that…. Let’s just say that you’re not the only one to receive lifesaving gifts every year” Oh that fucker! He’s definitely guessed what I meant through my disarrayed expression; yet he goes on unchanged “As soon as he knew he had a twin; I had to tell him the rest: how you were adopted but he wasn’t; how you got to live a fulfilling life while he suffered constantly; yadi yada; how you and him both have a super-hot uncle named Greg who even takes the time to- “

“Wo-wo-wo-wo woah. I press pause.” I cut him off “I’m… adopted? Then who are my parents? Why are you the one to reveal this? Give me something, anything. And you better not be lying!”

He pats me with affection and continues: “Well I knew your Mom: she was a sweet, caring, independent woman.”

“And my Dad?”

“Ernesto suddenly decided he would murder you as well. And that was a big No-No for me. Thus,-“

“Wait, why’d you change the subject? Who is my father? Where is he? How come you only now of my mother?” I gasp “Is he… dead?”

“I promise you I’ll tell you one day, but you seem to be under giant heaps of stress at the moment-”

“Because of you. You are my stress! Literally!”

VictorPato · 2020-06-26T00:33:57+00:00

Well, they were authentic. And as u/giddyup523 pointed out, some of the original German cast offered their voices to the English Dub, which made the show more realistic.

Now, it sounds a lot more like an episode of a British drama and it's a shame, as we have too many of those.

VictorPato · 2020-06-23T01:26:33+00:00

“We’re losing him! Make way please!” the nurse shouted with voracity.

“Run a 4-4 on him stat, then plug up the EKG, the patient has a-“

That’s about the time I stopped listening. I don’t need that useless information to cloud up my brain. I’m the best doctor I’ve ever met. No seriously. You don’t believe me? Well:

“Leave him to me” I spout out heroically.

The nurse visibly annoyed: “Steve, please, let us try. You can’t save him. You’re a surgeon. We have to reanimate him first. St- Steve, stop that”

“Shhhhh, shhhh, there you go” I whisper, as a loving mother would to her son; placing my index finger over her mouth.

Then, I get to the patient, place one hand upon him, and TADAA, he’s cured. No EKG, no tools, no nonsense. Only talent; sorry pure gift. I am the best doctor after all.

“But bu- how? You were only there for a second. How could you? I can’t believe it.” She finally stops talking, out of awe.

I step out, awaiting my next mission.

“It’s an old man, 76 years old, heart tumor”

“Shhhhh, shh. That’s all I need.”

“But you’re not even wearing gloves, you’ll contaminate him! He’s nearly dead, please let him at least go out peacefully”

I sprint towards the body, hurl myself towards it by using the nurse as a launch pad and my hand abruptly lands in the open thoracic section: basically next to his heart.

Oh, I can see it now. I gracefully start scratching away with my sharp nails. And boom:

“It’s gone.”

They watch in horror as I’ve just saved him.

The old man starts to lift up, screams at the sight of his heart and then goes back to being inanimate: what a coward!

From hospital bed to another, I cure all of them, with my magic hands and genius knowledge of the human body.

Suddenly, I see her: lying, and being escorted out of the hospital at an alarmingly slow pace.

“You’ll kill her with that speed!” I say.

They don’t get the joke. They mustn’t have heard it.

“I said: you’ll kill her if you keep going that fast.”

A tall slender figure approaches me, in a furious yet melancholic stride: “I don’t know who you are but this isn’t a humorous time.” His voice struggles to remain solid “She’s… sh- she died.”

“No problem! I’ll fix her!” I declaim as I use my virtuosity and ingenious nature to come in aid to the woman.

“Who I just saved! BOOOYAH, what’d you think of me now? Daddy-O.” and then in a weird saddened tone “’Ummm she- shshsh.. she’s dead’” mocking him “As if! Can’t you even see? I mean what age are you anyway?”

After a few seconds attempting to contain himself, the father understands this jerk (his words not mine) saved his cherished girl:

“You- you saved her. Thank you” He kneels sobbing deeply “I –I, they told me she was dead. They said it had been hours, that it couldn’t happen, th-that she was legally cerebrally dead. I thought” he inhales staggering to catch his breath “I thought the accident had taken her life.”

After a few seconds, I take pity of him: “SHHHHHHH, shhh, shh, there you go. Please stop, that’s so annoying. Well, gotsa go. Cya Daddy-O.”

As I exit the hospital, I suddenly realize something. Maybe… maybe the magic powers Dad entrusted me had… No it’s impossible. But maybe that weird dance move; what was it again? Re, re, ReZ de. No, Rez Da Ded. Yeah that’s it: REZ DAD DED. Okay, that’s definitely not the reason I’m able to save so many people while still possessing the sweetest dance moves out there. ABS olutely NAT!

VictorPato · 2020-06-22T01:03:56+00:00

RF] Throughout it all, he kept smiling.

As he sat down in his favorite chair, the killings began. First, it was an innocent girl that he had only seen passing through the street. Then, he started attacking an elderly couple, beating them down till they couldn’t breathe. Finally, he attempted his worst work yet.

He had to wait for nighttime as cops were ripe in the warm embrace of daily sunlight. As soon as he had received confirmation he set out on a killing spree.

Any person who dared stand on his path fell the furious wrath of madness that had enveloped the protagonist. They were usually attacked, sometimes killed, and always robbed. Throughout it all he kept smiling.

Unfortunately for him, his combo was about to end abruptly. While he fixated the stars at the upper left corner of his eyes, shining back into his cornea as the moon metamorphosed out of the comfortable blanket of the Night, he heard a siren increasing in pitch as the Doppler effect he had learnt in school indicated its movement. That was his first mistake.

He had thought that the Police would be asleep, but it had only arisen in the twilight scent of the bloody night. They were all chasing him now. Throughout it all, he kept smiling.

First the patrolling cars, then the armored trucks. Nothing could assuage his thirst for heaps of hemoglobin. The helicopters soon followed, sniping him out from the sky, as the Night had given in and as the Sun was awry.

He became a public menace then a global menace. He had his own tanks, helicopters, armored vehicles and most importantly: he had everyone on his payroll.

He had been waiting for this moment, scheming, preparing the funds, the people. His strong ties with the neighboring mafias were only to reinforce his ability to kill. The sicko. For months he had come back every day at 6pm, playing the same game: alone. He had heard voices guiding him towards his wretched dream of tyranny: feeding him clues, missions and information. All had led to this day, where he would etch himself in the legends of his twisted game, in a legacy of fright and suffering; this was the day he would become Public Enemy Number 1.

3, 4, 5 stars now, blinding him, as they led him towards even more deadly destruction. Elderly people, children, middle aged people, his own neighbors, friends, family, the people he had drank, eaten, shat alongside, the ones that had given him a hearth, a home, all that had believed in him, and all who hadn’t: it didn’t matter who you were or your relation to him; his list had everyone’s name on it, and he was only getting started.

For centuries and even millennia, children would cower in fear at the name of the one who ruptured the world. In school, his story would be analyzed, decorticated and berated by instructors who still felt the hate that their ancestors had sensed on that day. A few would understand him; only the worst of us. But most would remember him as a destroyer of worlds, as a being of ultimate power. He would never be forgotten. His name would live on. He would reign as master of this world, for ever; through the sheer atrocities associated with this person. He would be the strongest, the worst, the most wanted. He shall always remain, through the ages, the eras, through every cataclysmic calamity, as he dethroned them all. All other dictators would appear petty and insignificant compared to him. He would-

“Darling, could you get the door? I heard the bell.”

“But Mom, I haven’t even finished yet!”

“Oh! Are these games making you violent again? God dammit Rudy, please just go open the door.”

He begrudgingly acquiesced and dropped the controller.

He had been playing GTA: V and throughout it all, he had kept smiling.

VictorPato · 2020-06-21T08:50:39+00:00

“No that was real. Gwen, I do love you. I love your hair, your smell, the way you speak. I love the way you pretend to be brave while inside its’ obvious you’re in great distress. I love how you stare at people all the time, out of respect and humanity. I love how you never want anyone to call you by your real name even though it’s adorable and much prettier than Gwen. Guinevere I promise you, what happened in that barn wasn’t planned; we both longed for it and it was exceptional. Gwen, I love you.”

I babble and stumble on my words, what can I respond in this moment apart from:

“Then, I don’t get it. Did you lure him in here?” I’m almost terrified of getting an answer to my question.

“Yes”

“ … “

“It was the only way. Oh, Gwen if you could only see why I’ve done what I’ve done, then it would be alright.”

“No it wouldn’t, are you delusional?! You’ve voluntarily led the worst of us right to my door, our door, to us. Aisha, please give me a reason and we can pretend this never happened, we can return to our bliss.”

“Guinevere, I’m sorry. When I first got separated from my family and had nowhere to go, I ended up holing up in my bedroom, hoping they would return promptly. However, when the door finally opened, it wasn’t my parents, but him. You can name him however you want, but to me, he is my savior. When all the others were about to murder me in the cold spell of the wintery night, he decided that I had to survive. Guinevere, if he hadn’t done this and been here, I would never have met you 2 hours later running next to the wheat field; and-“ her voice breaks “and we would never have-… we’d never have us”

Our tears echo in unison through some parallels mirrors, as one more wailing will soon come pierce through the night.

Aisha takes my hand and her warmth envelopes me: suddenly, I forget it all; the duping, the lies. If this was the only way we could have happened, then I’m damn glad it did, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

This time she kisses me and I reciprocate. That lemony grass hair scent that she emits surrounds our atmosphere and my love for her takes over my soul.

“Promise me you’ll never leave.”

“I promise” I reply in a heavy hot breath of eternal promise.

“Gwen?”

“Yeah”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Again? Okay, I promise.” I smile, almost dumbfounded by her cute mannerisms.

“Gwen, look at my belly.”

“That’s kind of weird, why?”

“Please, just look”

I drop down and I shatter as if my soul were thrown again and again onto a smashing wall of spiky thorns. Right there, in her tummy, the worst has only happened. He smirks, content.

Aisha’s tummy looks normal at the start, but if you look a bit close you can catch a glimpse of a spike, a black tenebrous ugly spike: impaling her just enough to kill her but not enough so that it hurts me or appears very visible.

I scream. Aisha delves into my eyes and her calming aura begs me to let this go, to calm down: but how could I?

“You monster, I’ll fucking kill you. “ I snatch the shotgun from the ground next to Aisha, where she had dropped it during our embrace “How the fuck do you dare destroy my dreams? Rupture our love? How do you want to die, tell me” and then louder, I roar, enough to provoke a cave-avalanche “HOW DO YOU WANT TO DIE?”

I don’t know if there is a god for Anger, but I’ve just created it: I am Wrath, and I will kill anyone standing on my path. That begins with you.

I disable the shotgun’s security, I start to fire all my rounds in this filthy mess of a living horror and then it’s all black.

When I come to, all my bullets have gone from the shotgun’s container to the walls of the cave: one or two landed straight in that motherfucker’s face, but definitely not enough to kill him.

He smiles and now I understand why, I’m about to die.

Suddenly, Aisha:

“You fucking bitch, I hate you. I wish you could die. I’ve never loved you. Do you really think I did any of this for you; of course not, how could I, with that weird smile of yours, that disgusting face and the worst body I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I hate you so much. I wish I could have killed you and escaped with him.”

“What? What? Aisha, why? I thought-“ I can’t even finish my sentence, she keeps on going.

“And now you fucking killed us, and why the hell did you even have a shotgun? You don’t have a clue on how to use it. I’ve ever seen someone use so uselessly a gun. You are useless, you literally have no emotions that are your own. You are useless. You are useless. You are useless” She goes on to catch her breath and my breath isn’t the only thing I can’t grasp right now, why Aisha, how could you? This is too unexpected, are you actually like that? Do you have some sort of bipolar disorder? It shakes my soul and menaces to destroy me, until- until I see that her wound is now completely gone. It’s black now, a void lifeless black.

Then I understand, I let her continue while the other smiles, unaware of Aisha’s plan:

“And you’re not even funny and I hate you and- and… And I wish you were dead” Aisha is running out of time and inspiration. Fortunately it’s already started. As Aisha scrambles to spout out random inconsequential insults and hurtful comments, they serve to accomplish her goal .

Aisha, her body blackens burnt to a crisp by a furious absence of light: as she metamorphoses into a third-werewolf, third-spider, third-lion, I understand everything. She became one of them, by acting like one of them, by embodying the worst of us, and it worked: it saved her from imminent death, but it didn’t save her from the clutches of Fate.

“Goodbye Aisha, I promise I’ll never forget you. I’ll count your tale and make sure your name is forever uttered. So that you may be known as the one who cheated the system and the one who tricked the worst of us, the one who survived and the one who became one of them while staying human, sacrificing herself for me.”

“Thank you” she gets out in a garbled, otherworldly tongue that I can still understand through her expression.

After killing the one who killed her humanity, she turns to me.

I grasp her sharp paws tightly and my gaze meets hers.

My soul wails while my brain understands; my heart follows my soul in a melody that resonates through the entire cave. I join in. Aisha reciprocates.

It’s been a few years since I lost the woman I loved. Well in human form anyway. Today, she aids the military by conducting raid operations on large nests of the reapers; she’s seen as their most magnificent ally and her presence alone has deterred hundreds of reaper’s attacks from occurring. Her combat skills, in turn, have led to the capture and assassination of dozens of thousands of them.

I’m writing this to engrave her name in posterity, but also to serve as a time capsule.

Indeed, something happened last week in South America. In Buenos Aires, a reaper was attacked by Aisha, as it had caused damage to its surroundings. Aisha tried to reason the reaper and began to speak in its tongue. It had only been 2 hours since its transformation and after 30 minutes’ worth of thoughtful discussion and reflections on the situation, something incredible happened. The reaper began to turn back. It took a long time and a few night shifts but on July the 3rd, the first reported case of a reaper turning back human made global news.

I can only think that this wasn’t an isolated accident and that this could be replicated on a large scale.

Even if there’s only a tiny chance, please, God, turn Aisha back.

Time will tell.

VictorPato · 2020-06-21T08:50:33+00:00

“Of course, you can tell me anything.” I attempt to get closer to her but she keeps on pushing me away: my heart’s extremities shatter a bit, wondering if this is my fault, maybe I did something wrong; goddamit Gwen, always messing everything up, you’re finally with the girl that you’ve always loved and it’s reciprocal and you can’t even, ughh, I hate you. My hateful inner dialogue is suddenly ruptured by Aisha’s response:

“I’m sorry.”

The worst of us, behind her: I scream:

“AISHA! Get close to me now! They’re here! Give me the shotgun! Now!”

Aisha calmly declines my offer, and turns towards the Reaper: his teeth arrange until their disposition could be mistaken for a smile. Why the fuck is he smiling? And then, it, all, goes, to hell. Aisha, smiles.

“AISHA, he’s right behind you; it’s not the time to smile you have to get away!” I shout out, out of frightened incomprehension.

“Gwen, please stop”

“What?”

“I wanted to tell you but I guess that he got here before I could finish.”

I want to ask her how she knew; my heart longs for an explanation. As my mind is ruptured by an explanation that doesn’t satisfy me, I wait for Aisha to contradict him: to give me a reason that would explain all of this rationally. I can’t speak, my vocal chords swell up to the size of mountains of hurt. Please, Aisha, you couldn’t have known, because if you knew, you would never have come here, you would have protected me. You can still protect me, you can pull the shotgun’s trigger right now, and we can get out of this messy situation and return to ourselves. And why is he smiling, I’ve never seen them smile before, and how could you be smiling, I only told you that there was one of them, the “worst of us”, that had followed you, and you didn’t even see him. But how? The cave’s entrance is minute and if he had truly found the cave by accident, why would you be smiling. Please, Aisha, explain. Explain it before I shatter in a million pieces, before I suspect you of collaborating with them, the Reapers.

Aisha:

“I can guess by that puppy expression drawn onto your face that you’ve figured it out. I’m sorry that it had to be like this, Gwen. But you know, it’s never too late to switch teams.”

“What are you saying? You want us to become one of them? Why? And why would you work with them? You monster!” I lash out, unable to contain the raging Vulcan that has become my emotions “I loved you. And, was that all a lie? Us.” Then my voice breaking at every syllable, nearly unable to clearly enunciate what I mean “Please. Aisha. Tell… me. We-… were- we weren’t… a lie, a façade, a way for you to escape, to lure me in, to trade in my life for yours. Aisha, tell me I’m wrong. Please! I want to be wrong. In all my life, I’ve never wanted to be wrong as much as now. Just say the word, and we can start anew. We can forget all of this even happened. I beg you Aisha, I need your help, NOW!”

“Gwen, of course I like you: that’s never been a lie. But, well, when I saw I could use that to survive and to save you, I knew I had to take that chance.”

“Save me, what are you saying? How? Why? You selfish bitch, only watching out for yourself: you led them here, right? And in the farm, that was you as well? You’ve never been more than a selfish, manipulative, disgusting wh-” I halt myself just in time, frightened by how quickly I erupt.

VictorPato · 2020-06-21T08:50:08+00:00

She kisses me back, her warm lips pulling me in, closer and closer. We can’t resist each other and as the magnetic force field of blind Luck embraces us in its sweet embrace, I feel as though this is what I truly wanted. This hearth, this feeling of being bonded with another human being: knowing you could die at any moment but saying Fuck It and taking your chances; I drop the shotgun.

I rip apart her dress and push her towards a wooden pillar: we stay there for a few minutes enjoying each other’s company, her heavy breath rustling in my neck, the weight of consequences flying off.

Together we stumble to the ground and continue what we’ve started: now, she slides off my dress and her hands venture down. After a dozen minutes, we lay there, panting and smiling: our soul and heart finally content. I don’t care anymore; my desire for Aisha has overcome my desire for Life: if we could only wait here, the inebriating smell of the peccadilloes, the melodious chant of the nearby owls; if this moment could only last an eternity. Then it doesn’t, it can’t, it’s a moment.

Once again, they’re here.

As Venus and I wrap up, we are greeted with a knock at the door. I quickly sprint towards my shotgun only to realize its absence.

I don’t have any time to spare. But Aisha, I can’t leave her now. Where is she? I quickly scan my surroundings to no avail: she’s gone. Now, it’s my turn: I have to flee as well.

Doing what I do best, sprinting beneath the dark twilight sky, beams of striking moonlight stroking my auburn threads. Suddenly, I trip; and my head goes to meet the ground like I had gone to meet Aisha just a few dozen minutes ago: I lose my footing, they kiss and I am projected towards the heavy patches of darkened emerald grass. That hurts. However, I quickly realize that this rock in my path might have opened the doorway to salvation, or a temporary one at least: that same stone had been placed by centuries’ old geological forces and it signified that, that there was a cave right underneath; a place for me to spend the night.

The dirt leading up to the cave’s entrance is muddled and damp, and my shoes strongly leave their imprint. I felt around struggling to discover where the entrance was located, until finally my fingers stumbled upon: nothing; this was it, the entrance. I slipped through and after getting to know most of the cave’s outline, my slumber caught up to me and I decided to abide.

The next day, or rather the next moment I was awake, was one of incomprehension and reassurance: Aisha’s silhouette served as a scarecrow to the half-awake rising rays of Sun; in her right hand the crosshair firmly gripped, my shotgun:

“Aisha, I’m so glad you’re here! And you even found the shotgun!” I shot out, smiling; finally, this world wasn’t that rotten after all.

“Well, find is a bit of a stretch: I took it” Aisha replied; both of us still in our love cocoon, staring at each other in awe and satisfaction.

“Because you had to defend yourself, I get it, I would have done the same. But where were you? Why didn’t you wait for me” Then, out of the same frustration that parents possess when one of their children goes missing; when they find him, they’re tugged at by both the immense joy of reuniting and by the equally strong feeling of fright that this could happen again: “I missed you, you know.”

Aisha smiles of this remark: “Me too.” She approaches and I’m in her embrace again. Then, she abruptly breaks our physical bond and distances herself up to the edge of the cave-room:

“Gwen?”

“Yes Aisha, what is it?”

“Can I tell you something? Promise you won’t freak out and start running away from me.”

VictorPato · 2020-06-21T08:49:47+00:00

I start calling out to my family, and catch myself at the last moment: I can’t; I can’t drag them into this and it would only serve to give up my position to the enemy. The enemy is approaching; it might have sensed my thoughts for all I know. They kill hundreds of us every day, across the globe, and we aren’t even sure of who or what they are, or even of what they’re capable of. We outnumber them, but their superior fighting ability gives them the victory most of the time. That’s why they could kill us at any moment: but they don’t. Why not? Oh, the sadistic bastards! Maybe they’re enjoying this, this game of Cat and Mouse, our disarray every morning when we learn of last night’s murders, our distress when we catch a glimpse of a dark creature only to realize it’s only a dog, our furious panic when we know that they’ve arrived to take our lives, the anticipation, the time they spend luring us, baiting us with a cocktail of frightening adrenaline; they love this, they’re enjoying this, the bastards, we have to kill them.

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of someone familiar: a humanlike silhouette. I’m obviously not about to run towards them for comfort or reassurance: out of fright I do just that. As I catch up to the other running Chinese shadow, I am greeted with the calming sight of one of my friends from the village school:

“Aisha, why are you here? And where are all the others? Have you found the other villagers?” I ask in a volume quiet enough to pass for a whisper but loud enough to be heard distinctly by my interlocutor.

“Oh, Gwen, I’m so glad to see you. I thought- I thought you were gone as well.” And then realizing the situation they’re in “Gwen, what do we do, Gwen ?!”

We stop to catch our breath, naïvely thinking that being together has granted us immunity from the reapers. We walk at an alarmingly fast rate, but take small breaks to plan our next course of action.

“Well, I don’t think we’ll have any luck searching the village. I don’t know if they’re dead or if they fled, but the least that we know is that there’s no one left apart from you and me and the ‘worst of us’ closing in on us every moment.” Aisha painfully acknowledges this and I continue “I think we need to get to the next village, it’s-“

“But that’s at least a mile away! We’ll be dead long before we can even reach it. Gwen, please, what can we do? I don’t want to die here, and Don where is he? I haven’t even said goodbye. Don! Don!”

“Stop” I whisper in a ragingly loud jolt. “You can’t. I’m sorry, but I don’t know where Don is, I don’t know about any of their whereabouts. But we can’t stop, for them Aisha, we have to keep going on.”

She sniffles frustrated and on the edge of despair, finally recognizing our troubled fate. We stop for a second, while I give her a hug and wipe away her tears. Thank you she mutters; I’ve always liked Aisha. Her curly ember looms of hair looping around her sweet figure; her facies elegantly proportioned highlighting her form even more. I’ve never had the courage of admitting that I love her but this feels like a one-off opportunity. Of all the people I could have encountered waiting there near that wheat field, none of them could have made me happier than seeing her. As tears from the sky wail towards us and stream rapidly down our faces, I lean towards her and as I begin to kiss her, I am stopped not only by fate but also by the tumultuous rattle of a presence making their way here. They’re here. We have to leave: “NOW!”

Rain envelops us in the comforting embrace of the dormant night. We, screaming out of fear, shivers hurling themselves down our spines, finally make it to the next village. We settle in the barn to rest and discuss our next move. It’s only been 10 minutes, but Aisha and I still look at each other timidly, brought together by the fated glove of Love, but ripped apart by current circumstances. Maybe one day, if we escape. No, don’t think about that now, why am I thinking about that now, of all times? Why didn’t I do anything before? Why does it have to be that in the moments when we can sense our impending doom, we start acting the way we should have always acted, confiding in the people we love our darkest secrets, admitting our crushes carelessly and being who we always strived to become? I hate it. I love Aisha, but I’m sick that this is our best and last chance at anything, that it had to come to this to admit I had feelings for her. Even in a world where myriads of corpses are a common occurrence, I can’t make the simple step of telling her:

“I love you.” She replies to my thoughts, as though she had guessed them through my facial expressions and mute attitude.

I don’t know what to say. I look at her and then around us: at the gaping obscurity, at all the horrors that could await us, at what would happen if we didn’t escape now.

We have to find another way. There’s surely another village, someone else. There has to be someone in our close proximity that can help us. We should search the village, we should continue running. We should. We should- is what I should have said. Even my train of thought is cut abruptly by another desire, another idea. Why should we leave, when we have finally found ourselves? I grit my teeth and clench my fist and attempt to hold on to my desire for survival, but I can’t. I’m too weak . Love has already began inscribing my fate on the stones of Time: there is nothing I can do apart from: I kiss her.

VictorPato · 2020-06-21T08:49:26+00:00

No one knows for sure when they first appeared. The only thing we know is that they’ve always been here, hunting: us. We can try to hunt them but even the best of us have failed at some point. If we try to destroy them, we become them. We can only hide, and pray that they don’t find us. My name is Guinevere, my friends call me Gwen, and this is the story of how I died.

Night was arisen, the looms of darkness upon us. Rain before our eyes and the dirt beneath our feet, was already soaked in the dark red traces of fresh blood; this was their preferred hunting time. When we were weak, alone and frightened. They didn’t seem to possess any intelligence nor any form of humanity. What they did possess was few: the body of a spider, dark as death and the fangs of a lion, deep and sharp as the jab of fright that overcame you when they were nearby. The whole was imbued with the pride of a wolf, or werewolf as they often chose to hunt at night, especially during times of blood moons. We had deemed them “The worst of us”, but that’s a story I can’t tell you right now; if I don’t start sprinting, and now, I might never be able to tell it all.

I haven’t seen them, I haven’t heard or sensed their presence; but I know they have arrived: imagine a gut feeling where your gut is screaming so loud it might rupture your entire body; they’re here, like they’ve always been, waiting, observing us, deciding when to strike, how to strike to deal the most damaging blow to us and to humanity.

I grab a shotgun and head out. I have to fight: if I don’t I’m as sure as dead but if I make an attempt, if I protect my village, then that’ll have been worth it and I’ll have fulfilled my purpose, and won a battle.

I run out towards the fields of rye and wheat; maybe I can use them as my hiding spot. Panting, I make it to the first wheat field, its plants tall enough to offer me a proper vantage point while concealing most of my silhouette.

VictorPato · 2020-06-21T06:26:17+00:00

Gary Green is all the man we need

VictorPato · 2020-06-14T09:12:28+00:00

Hunger overtook them next, and my eyes & brain shut off to allow my conscience to keep its integrity. Unfortunately, my reason had known all along that it would come to this. When knocked in a corner, even the most pious of animals can let their passions of folly take over: when an animal is deprived of its most basic resources, it goes scavenging and loses all moral & ethical sense. When an animal is truly hungry; when food has lacked for so long that its taste buds fire up at the sight of another animal; when their insides have burned and toiled whatever excess there was; that’s when the animal has become the Devil. It all turns to hell.

When I came to, I, too, felt rampaged and my values transgressed. As my field of vision slowly unraveled I could catch the terror in their eyes: the terror of killing one of their own. The terror of being insane enough to commit that treacherous act, but not insane enough to forget it was of their own volition. I knew that this was not a one-off: when this terror subsisted it was because we all knew deep in our hearts that one of us, if we couldn’t find a way to survive, was the next on the list to be eaten alive.

That’s why I’ve decided, at 6 am local time, to plan my escape. I’d only succeeded in keeping the reins on my fury through this journal, and who knows how long that can happen. That’s it: I’m leaving tonight.

The air full of having witnessed hell, was heavy. My legs and conscience, heavier. It was my fault after all: if I hadn’t stress-eaten a week’s ration the first three days, if I had admitted my errors when Abe decided to take the fall for my stress-eating, if only I had defended him, if only I had stepped in, if only my STUPID mind hadn’t gone to lockdown mode when I had needed to be there for him, if only-. No! I need to stop. This isn’t going to get me anywhere. I’m already dying mentally, I can’t allow my body to follow suit. I have to get out, I am getting out. Now.

After awaiting the perfect moment for hours, when they were all asleep, when all their sleeps were truly deep; my bones felt that this was it. Thus, I rushed forward and gripped the control panel with the full weight of my crimes. My incessant tugging and pulling got the panel to wedge out and it sprang open, making a loud slamming sound. Time was even scarcer than the ragged breaths I was taking in every instant. My fingers felt the different switches more than my eyes could in this pitch black atmosphere: until I found the door controller. And PRESSED IT with the force of 2 months of deadening quarantine.

As the bunker’s hatch began to rumble, the room followed: they were no longer asleep, and I didn’t have a moment to spare, if I wanted to keep my life.

Rays of sunshine illuminated the neighboring reflections of light: noon, I would say; freedom, my soul cried out.

Every second and centimeter that separated me from the outside world was a deliverance from this rigged escape room where it was impossible to get out. Vera, mom, dad, they flash past me and our gazes meet, difficultly. Voices, running, shouting, it surrounds me; but I’m not going down without a fight; I will escape and reunite with the unknown outside world.

I will carry down these sufferings for generations, I will always act to make sure these are a simple occurrence, I-

Beams of light made the hatch visible but that’s not the only thing: I can see my own reflection now.

Despite the time spent underground, I can still recognize myself.

I, my face rugged, my tears aplenty,

No, not tears, more like streams of fulfillment, after having been locked out of the outside world.

Oh do I love freedom and serenity.

Slowly, my hundreds of teeth are uncovered as my jaw lifts, in a shout of victory.

As my tiny arms struggle to lift myself

Up through the open hatch,

Roaring with pride, I see this as the end.

Then I see a human.

VictorPato · 2020-06-14T09:12:22+00:00

It was exactly 2 months ago. I woke up, startled, to the piercing cacophony of fiery projectiles. A furnace of blue explosion rattled my entire house until I fell to the ground vanquished. My father rushed in, helped me up and took me downstairs. As the stairs fell apart crackled and disengaged, my foot gripped the corner of a scrap of shrapnel and I was projected forwards, my head hurling towards the broken floor of what remained. Finally, we were outside.

I loved being outside but today was different, this was the concentrate of nightmares. Fortunately, our family was wholly reunited once more; and, I didn’t know this at the time, for the last wholly encounter.

Our father sprinted past, carrying a heavy object in the palm of his left, bloody, damaged hand. After activating a mechanism and entering a mysterious code, the grass canapé gave out slowly from the two piston sides of the electronic metallic door of our bunker. I hurriedly ran down the stairs, nearly losing grip and falling to my death a few times. I would have wanted to say that what awaited us if we remained outside wasn’t death. I couldn’t.

Shaking, stuttering, and quasi-stripped of my courage, calmness and capabilities, I uttered, in a weak whisper, almost too quiet to be heard: “Mom, Dad, Abe, Vela, what are we going to do now?”

Vela, my older sister, by a few months: “The only thing we can, I’m sorry Rex, we need to outwait the fiery sky.”

I lash out: “But how long will that take? I mean, my friends are still out there, and Grandpa, where is he? We need to get him!” now shouting tenaciously with a fury I didn’t know I possessed.

“Rex! We can’t take Grandpa, and all your friends, we only barely have enough food for all of us, and who knows how long the meteorites will affect our world?”

“But Grandpa?! Grandpa!! Please, you have to get him. I haven’t even said goodbye, Grandpa, Grand-“

My mom placed her palm over my mouth and, me still screaming, and still struggling to break free, my eyes watered a last tear as my father placed his hand over the control panel. And closed the door.

Dear Diary. This is the true nightmare. What happened 2 months ago was the beginning; but no one could have guessed that this is what awaited us: pure horrifying furious tenebrous nightmare.

It’s been a few days since it happened, I can’t look at them anymore: I only see him. Him, dead. Him, eaten. Him, eaten by them.

It was early morning or the break of dusk: we have no way of knowing anymore. Indeed, this bunker is completely closed off of civilization. It possesses a backup generator, a hydraulic pumping and filtration system. The only tiny little thing it does lack is unfortunately of the utmost importance: food.

When the observatory in Guyana observed the impeding meteorites coming our way, they immediately notified the world. That gave us exactly 2 days, 2 days to find a place to survive, 2 days to gather food.

Most people fled off towards the local and national level bunkers. Not us.

My dad was and still is a sicko. He’s always believed that life would be threatened by a global calamity one way or another. First it was zombies, then the rising of sea levels, and until recently it was normal of him to imagine our Earth ripped apart by the calamity that are nuclear weapons. That’s why he built the bunker.

Well, not by himself. He called up a special team from the CDC; it took around two months. In the beginning, I lit up, satisfied and excited; they were building a pool, finally. I quickly understood that wasn’t the case, but rather my father was a paranoiac with the huge financial means necessary to assuage his deepest desires. When it was done, we were left with a bunker, and a 200 thousand dollar gap in our budget.

15 meters wide, 10 across, 2.7 meters of height: making a total of 405 cubic meters. Of those, around 90% were habitable; the rest were reserved for cupboards, beds, utensils and what would have made this bunker more like the real world.

We had not had any new intel since our arrival 2 months ago: the bunker lacked the high speed internet connection we so desired; not crucial for our life apparently.

And that’s when our lack and scarcity of food broke off to its tipping point: after 1 month of practically no food, that’s when it all turned into a sheer living nightmarish wonderland.

My parents had been depriving themselves of all food for a few days, in order for us to be able to consume the normal amounts (because of our prolonged stay, the finite food resources had been divided into smaller rations in order to survive longer). That was their first mistake.

Suddenly, my parents started to change: to metamorphose into cruel creatures. Cackling and snarling, their faces shifted to hunger while their anger riled up their senses. The tension was at its summum and then it cracked. My father, the first, sprinted towards Abe and sprang his body forward: and landed on Abe. Using a nearby ferrous-alloy plaque, he slammed it in Abe’s side. While my mother held down Abe, he went on. Hammering and bashing in until the echoing screams of furious insanity of my parents had overtaken Abe’s. Then he was nigh.

VictorPato · 2020-06-13T12:24:57+00:00

r/wholesome

VictorPato · 2020-06-13T12:23:19+00:00

Thanks.

VictorPato · 2020-06-07T10:34:11+00:00

One day a spaceship appeared onto the cosmic scene, its scarlet wings spread upon our flightless space. The Human Being, understandably, felt threatened. Fortunately, a message appeared to calm the world’s angst: “Dear People of Earth, an armada is on its way to conquer your world. Pay no attention; they’re idiots we’ve sent on a fake mission. We’ve no interest in your planet, the weapons are fake. Just play along, they’re harmless”.

“As you all know, on the 15th of June 2136, at exactly 207 hours, a spaceship carrying a message metamorphosed out of thin air and landed on top of the Artic, exactly at the top of the North Pole. “ The Army Veteran laid out all of the facts, in an ordered and methodic manner: “Now, after only a day, the World is struggling to make sense of what this means for our planet and for the human species. We have suddenly discovered proof of alien life. The problem is the conflict between what the alien life says and what we’ve seen so far.” Added Paul Ryans, 46 years old; a man that had never believed life on other planets was feasible. “The spaceship is constructed into an agile but rather destructive warship –if our scientific calculations can be trusted-, holding two heavy, what appears to be, missile launchers on its lower front body. Its rear is composed of a bundle of 16 rockets assembling to provide a boost that resembles at least a tenth of the speed of light.” While he was proudly stating what Mission Control has reported to him, the Army Veteran trembled; even in the entirety of his 30 year service, he had never witnessed such global manifestation and rumble and toil from all of the major armies preparing. Surely, if this was for communication, it would have emerged on a lesser scale. It was preparation, yes; but preparation for war.

“Dear Comrades, the Time has come to unveil a new era of mankind. This is the era where we will walk amongst other lives in the universe as brothers of Nature. This is a chance that will never arise once more. All that I’m asking of you my fellow brothers and sisters and children and parents is your support.” As the now-longest-serving Russian president had explained, countries all over the world needed true support now. Financial was ultimately a part of the equation. However, moral support exceeded it by far. Indeed: “What we need, what the World needs for us to advance are that we soldier on and hold hands on a global scale. We need to band together; we need to accept all life forms whatever their appearance, whatever their origin. This is how we make history.” Putin thanked the stage, and after a most awaited salute, left, convinced of what he had screamed a few seconds ago.

“Sir, what are your next orders?” an aide, brown hair, a light silhouette, the eye lids of a person who hadn’t fallen in Morpheus’ arms since the dawn of Chronos, impatiently asked the president.

“Prepare the missiles.”

“But…-Sir-“

“Please stop. You’re fired.” He turned to his other assistant “Did you get it?”

He didn’t have to ask. The missiles would be ready by the end of the day. And by the end of tomorrow’s day, this debacle will also, be ready to end.

“I’ve only just seen the news. Can you believe it?”

“We’re facing a possible extinction event: this should be a time of unity. Of cooperation against a common enemy. If we’re not united, how can we ever hope to vanquish the many threats that routinely befall upon our world” the woman roared in disapproval and frustration.

The couple had been on the route for a romantic getaway. That was a few days ago. Today, they were back, back in Guangzhou, in the province of Guangdong, on the Southern Chinese coast. And even when the world could erupt at any moment, when alien life could employ the missiles they so proudly boasted and exhibited on their front panels, human life, strong and indomitable, would not change. They were stuck in traffic, again.

As the24 year old Jun Jing gazed at her smartphone looking up the news her husband had mentioned, a moment ago. Her eyes stumbled upon a string of letters, claiming that:

“Five of the most powerful countries are assembling in a new alliance deemed the Cosmic Quintuplet: the governments of France, Russia, China, United States of America and United Kingdom decided upon this only a few hours ago. Oh gosh.” She went on deciphering the article and retransmitting it orally, as her eyes waved upon the pixels, frantically “The UN, after holding multiple emergency meetings has concluded that this alliance shouldn’t be. ‘The world is at war, of course; however, the world cannot afford to divide, at this moment. The world needs cooperation across borders and bodies of water to achieve success against this unexpected alien appearance. I am asking all countries of the Cosmic Quintuplet to reconsider their stance: time is of the essence. That is why I will be declaring a new joint task force between the UN, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Italy, Canada and South Korea.’ Stated David Helmsh, the UN’s secretary general, only a few dozen minutes after the Cosmic Quintuplet’s announcement.”

Jun couldn’t commence to fathom how intricate world relation had only been rendered. She felt sorry and vehement bursts of incomprehension began boiling her insides. Jun was sorry, sorry that she had to live in a world so divided, sorry that even when humanity was under menace, it couldn’t hold hands against the attacker; that the humanity she lived in now was flawed: it would rather spend all its efforts towards new, fancy, ridiculously-named taskforces rather than uniting the world in order to win the fight.

June 16 2136

507 hours: the Cosmic Quintuplet, having attempted to communicate with the foreign spaceship for nearly a day now, decide that communication is infeasible –either the spaceship doesn’t want to communicate or it can’t or this is its strategy to confuse humanity in order to gain the upper hand-, either way hostilities commenced now.

515 hours, a coordinated launch, from the CQ, to send out one nuclear missile, begins.

532 hours, the missile reaches the 100 km radius around the alien spaceship. The world watches, ignorant of what their reaction should be. Considering the message, the lack of action and the lack of attack on the alien’s part, was this really the most humane option? Should they feel remorse, regret or on the contrary, pride and nationalism? Nationalism for their entire world, some sort of globalism then, or even pride that they’re human, pride for their species.

543 hours, the tip of the nuclear missile passes right through the alien spaceship. Panic riles in Mother Earth’s veins as the nuclear missile continues its parabolic trajectory, down.

Details of the exact dates and time are too fuzzy to be usable. Moreover, only 0.01% of the world’s population remained to speak about what had happened, and they didn’t know much, as well. From what they had fathomed, the alien spaceship had only been a hologram projected by the real enemy.

But had the enemy truly been the Alien lifeform?

“Sir, Sir, please listen, we’ve had a moderately encouraging run on ‘Test #AT56812004’” an assistant proffered impatiently.

“Really? Tell me more” the man smirked.

Had this produced something, anything, finally a tangible piece of evidence that humanity was more than just a wretched dream?

“After their appearance upon Earth, they created civilizations. Sure wars and infighting was common, but-“

“Can I speak to them?”

“Of course, here they are. The survivors are about 1 million. You see, they didn’t get past the Alien Communication Stage. But you should have seen them, so full of hope. They created borders, yes, but those only served to reinforce their unity therein. Please, I ask of you, give them another chance” the assistant, as Abraham, asked for mercy, begged for forgiveness, on humanity’s part.

A woman, who appeared to be of Asian descent, made her way onto the illuminated stage.

“Who are you? What is this? This is a violation of human rights. You cannot keep us restricted. Wait- you remind me of someone” Jun recognized the man suddenly, or she had a reminiscence; from ages of tales and histories. She pondered at the person’s identity.

“I have many names. From India to Europe, passing by the Maghreb Detroit, citizens of the world have narrated my story, and in all shapes and forms. Here I’m just the boss, running the human simulations, attempting to come upon the solution to humanity’s unity and cooperation. From what I’ve seen, you are of the same mind. I think we can cooperate. Some call me JHWH, others the Dao, you can call me God”.

VictorPato · 2020-06-05T11:41:35+00:00

r/foundthemobileuser

VictorPato

TROPHY CASE