Thursday, November 30, 2017

[WP] You are a shape shifting immortal, except you've forgotten that. You are subjected to a memory treatment and remember everything! What is troubling, is the time you were caught getting up after an execution, and accidentally started the world's largest religion...

I was shocked back into reality, and remembered it like it was yesterday. The light was again familiar, the doctor's face one I recognized. I sat at a table with a dark wooden grain, surrounded by mirrors and a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, along with a camera in the corner. He looked at me stiffly, then spoke.

"Do you remember now?"

I nodded my head.

"I'd like you to tell me, just so I can be sure the treatment worked."

"I'll start from the beginning I guess."

"I had stolen from the Catholic Church. Not just some poe-dunk, middle of nowhere church, but the Vatican. Now, being a shape-shifter, this made it easier than it would normally be, but still much harder than you might think. I had to impersonate a guard, then steal his key code, then slip in through the vents... but that's not the part you came to hear now is it? Long story short, I ended up with the Arc of the Covenant. It's lounging in dust in a box in their basement by the way, if you were curious. So I'm on my way out, and of course I plan to sell it- I'm sure there's some sort of cultist out there who'd pay crazy money, maybe the Illuminati or something- when I was stopped by one of the guards. Now like a clever shapeshifter, I dropped the Arc, turned into a panther, and mauled him. Unfortunately though, I had triggered some sort of alarm,

"Hold on," the doctor said, "you're leaving out a lot of important information. You stole the Arc of the Covenant, from the basement of the largest Christian church on Earth, and you just, waltzed out without being seen? Not to mention the fact that you just carried the Arc of the Covenenant in a cardboard box?"

"Well it was in pieces, first of all, and a man of my strength doesn't have trouble with that. And obviously not, the guard saw me. Anyway, I was a tad worried. I didn't want to have to leave my prize behind, but I ended up taking half and leaving the other half stashed in an alcove in the ceiling for me to pick up later. Anyway, I took the guards form and continued my way out, but for some reason I looked suspicious carrying that box, and they have to stop everyone when on high alert apparently. I ended up just flying silently above them as a robin, and when I got to the door, I dropped the box from my claws, shifted back to a man, and just walked right out. They didn't even notice among the confusion and energy of the crowd.

"What was the point of that part of the story?"

"Context! Also, I'm a badass. I tried to find a buyer on the dark web. And sure enough, there was some idiot who wanted to buy half the remains of a legend that's not even real. I was around for that, Jesus wasn't even that cool. In fact, he was just annoying. So soft spoken and fragile, wouldn't roll with the punches. I was with the Romans, I knew how the wind was blowing,"

"Ok stop, I have some more questions. Why would anyone believe you? And you've been around that long?"

"Basically every major theft for the last eternity was most likely me. Mona Lisa? Candy from a baby, given back to the baby for a large sum. Remember the 350 million they never recovered from the Iraqi bank incident? Sitting in my bank account. I'm reliable and they know it. I've committed more theft than Zedong killed..."

"I understand, please continue,"

"So I met up with this guy, very shady man right? So he offered me two billion dollars, a tad below my asking price, but fair enough. He had the money, I had the remnants. We met in an alleyway in Florence, really shady place, but suitable you know? It was gonna be a clean swap, but some of his Illuminati buddies, or whatever the hell they were, decided two billion was a bit too pricy, so they decided to off me. Me! A master thief! Honestly, you'd think with all the movies and such that my having a back up plan would have been a given. So I ended up flying the Arc up to a nearby rooftop to stash, and I brought a fake box to the meeting."

"Stop. How did you know?"

"I'm immortal man! I know all human behavior. I can tell when someone wants to backstab me. It's not that hard. I can tell you're cold and unfeeling, and you don't have all that much of a personality, and..."

"Don't focus on me, I'm not important."

"Ok José. So I ended up punching the guy in the face, right before I gave him the box, turning into a rat, and scurrying around while bullets peppered the ground. So there I was, chomping arteries, clamping down when I get caught by a man with a net. A net of all things! So I'm a rat, writhing in this guys net while people corner me. They're all 'holy shit did he just turn into a rat?' and it's no big deal for me, it's normal. I turn into an elephant, right? How the hell are they gonna keep an elephant in a net? The bastards just start popping off, and there are bullets flying everywhere. In retrospect, I might have given them too big a target. But I go unconcious from blood loss, because as big as elephants are, damn I lost a **lot** of blood. Like it was oozing into the sewers and getting on their clothes, and hot damn it was..."

"On. Track."

"Ok so I wake up and they've got in front of a camera, in a warehouse room with a spotlight on me. I do admire their flair for the dramatic, I gotta say. So the guy is talking to the camera in Italian. And I'm sitting here, drugged out of my mind, but pretty pissed off. So the guy gets really dramatic, exaggerating with his hands. He pulls a gun, says something, and shoots me in the head. Now this is where I lost all my memories, shots to the head give me nasty amnesia for around a year or two, but your treatment has expedited that, so thanks I guess. Anyway the bullet passed clean through, and as he was making his closing remarks, the wound closed back up and I was fine again. I heard gasping from what I assume was a technical director or something? This was some real ISIS shit I'm telling you man. But he shot me again, to the same result. After the third time, he gave up and just turned off the camera. He had a conversation with his friend, and they untied me, and knelt to me, and started speaking Italian again. Then, they do the sign of the trinity, and bow down. So of course, I just decide to book it and hope that doesn't happen again, because that was some serious cult activity going on there, es no bueno. So that's all I can remember. You wanna fill in the gaps?"

The doctor was silent. He wore a suit instead of scrubs, but I guess because we were in a conference room and not an operating table I could let it slide. He looked down at his clipboard (which I had not noticed before), and took a pen from the inside of his jacket, scribbled a bit, and returned his steely gaze.

"The video the cultists took of you was shared. It hit the internet. Three billion views on YouTube in a month. It was the debate of every nightly show, butt of every joke for a very long time. But the general consensus was that it was real. Analysis from every single video editing expert corroborated that. Ballistics experts visited the site, found every piece of evidence they could, and that matched up perfectly with the video too. The cultists exaggerated your story, said you brought them the Arc and claimed it to be real. They then decided to execute you for heresy, but obviously it didn't work. It was a national embarrassment for the Catholic Church, and a hell of a lot of Christians, roughly 70% I'd say, began to call you the incarnation of God. People have started tracking your movements throughout history, calling Jesus a false prophet, Muhammed a heretic, Buddha a senile fool. You are the true afterlife, you offer salvation. Because you haven't convinced just Christians, no you've got most of the world following you. Does that adequately fill in the blanks?"

"Yeah, that just about does it. Well, I'll be on my way now I guess."

His clipboard melted into his skin, and he grabbed my wrist as I tried to stand up.

"What the hell..." I said, before I was roughly forced back into a seated position.

"You're not going to leave here Prophet."

"What do you..."

And it came back to me. The rest of my memory. I had been found, kidnapped when I couldn't remember my powers. Trapped in a basement in some dark corner of hell where no one would find me. Kept sedated, because they didn't know I had forgotten my abilities.

"Wait, it was you. You got me here. You're not even a doctor are you."

"No. I am not."

"I can read people though! How could I not..." I paused, his steely glare hinting at smugness. "You're an android aren't you. That's why I couldn't tell. What the hell has the U.S. government been up to lately, Jesus!"

He laughed.

"You are a funny man prophet. And who said anything about the U.S. government?"

And he stood, and walked through the mirror, leaving me with my reflection.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

[WP]People's guardian angels only show up in times of need. Yours just burst through the window, bloodied and bruised, and shouted, "We need to get you out here now!"


I was sitting in my bed, scrolling through Twitter when an angel of God smashed through my window, leaving shards of glass and smears of blood all over my carpet. This shocked me so profoundly I ended up hitting my head on the headboard of my bed, and leaving a gnarly bump on the back of my head (though this was, at the time, the least of my problems). The figure struggled to his knees, and lifted his face so that we made eye contact. Well, if it's possible to make eye contact with... glowing sockets. The place where his eyes should have been instead emanated a majestic white light, making my dark green walls appear to be just a little bit lighter than they actually were.
He lifted his bony, brown hand, and said, "Get up. We need to go," at which point he interrupted himself in a fit of bloody coughing. After his break, he finished with the logical next word, "now."
I, genius I am, grabbed my paint chipped wooden sword I bought from the renaissance fair (in third grade might I add), and pointed it at him. The being just scoffed. Then, he made a shoo motion with his hand, and the sword hit my wall.
"You're more foolish than He made me think," the angel said.
"What... what the hell are you?" I asked.
"What does it look like jackass?"
Then, he grabbed me, lifted me clear off of my bed, and dragged me towards my window. Outside was a mob of people, throwing rocks, bottles, and even a knife up at the hole in my window, but they all bounced off as if the glass were still there.
"Are you doing that?" I said incredulously.
"No, that's Pope Francis, I'm just the help." he said, and continuing with the theme of treating me like a child, led me by the collar into my hallway.
"Listen here you little punk. And I'm only gonna say this once. The big man said I'm responsible for helping you, but he also said I can't hurt any of those people out there. Now because I have to take a mortal form to consort with you, I am now not immortal, ergo I can die. So here's what we're gonna do. We are going to fix this mess right quick so I can leave you here and get back where I belong. Comprendo?"
The only thing I had comprehended throughout his entire rant was the bushiness of his dark mustache framing his thin face.
"Christ Almighty..." he muttered, and stood up, "look, what could you have done lately to upset them?"
"I don't have a clue! I've just been going to school and doing my work. I didn't tip a waitress one time at the Steak and Shake."
"If I knew more ways to say shut up, I still would have used them by now. Why do I even bother asking you questions if you don't know anything." he responded curtly. Then, in deep thought, he unfolded his wings from seemingly empty space, then folded them in again, over and over and he pondered the situation.
"Here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna go in there and see what they're saying. Incommunicado, of course. Turn away."
I did, and when I turned back, he was a beautiful woman in her late 20s, with thick blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. And... it doesn't matter what he looked like, because under all that makeup he was still there, so I'll just continue. She walked down my stairs as I followed closely, and opened my back door.
"You stay here. You're only gonna get yourself into trouble if you stay." her voice was strangely masculine, but I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't seen him turn into her.
After his disappearance, I sat at my kitchen table and wondered how the mob of people possibly could have been outside that whole time without my knowledge, surely I would have heard them at some point? But sitting there, I couldn't even hear the wind blowing outside. In fact, the sky was growing dark at 5 o' clock on a spring day. Something was wrong. Sitting myself and going to my front door, I found the sky to again be slightly dark, but completely silent, despite a horde of people moving their mouthes directly outside of my house. When I stepped outside, I saw the sky was a blood red, and the people were screeching and hissing, not talking. One of them pointed at me, and they rushed at me on all fours, crying their blood-curdling screams as they flew toward me. I responded with a blood-curdling screech of my own, and stepped back inside my house. I backed away slowly from the door, only to find he/she right behind me. I jumped at that as well, and the now (normal?) guardian poked me in the chest.
"You should've listened. You really should've. You're gonna get PTSD or some shit now you moron."
"You're really a dick for an angel you know."
He laughed at me.
"God is perfect, we're just very close to it." he said.
"What is going on out there?" I asked.
"Well, it seems like you went a bit far with one of your tweets about your classmates."
I didn't go that far. Just calling someone a shill isn't that bad is it?
"Well whatever you did you really ticked them off. So our friend here contacted a couple of his 4chan buddies and had them plant a minor thing in your computer..."
"Which was?"
"It had to do with kids."
I threw up on my floor. Several times in fact, and my guardian, shockingly out of snarky comments, looked on with sympathy.
"God sent me to help you out, because to be honest you don't deserve the shit you're getting. Problem is, our buddy Lucifer doesn't like angels coming to his domain, even though it's not that often. So he... helps out of the opposing side from time to time. He poured a lot of resources into Vlad the Impaler, Hitler, etc... I don't know why he chose to target you as well though. Regardless, we gotta call in the big guns to resolve this."
He knelt to the ground, extended his wings, and prayed. Stupefied, I waited, and when he finished, he looked at me and smiled.
"We're good."
He opened the door, and the sky was a brilliant white. The formerly animalistic mob was writhing on the ground, as a red smoke dissipated from their bodies into the light.
"What..." I said.
Guardian smiled.
"I prayed for their forgiveness."
"That's... kind of a lame conclusion actually. I expected you to go in with a sword or something, like in Revelations."
His smile disappeared.
"Does this look like Revelations to you?"
It did not.
Soon, the people came to their senses, and made their way back to their homes and their families. Guardian helped each and every one of them if they needed it, thought he didn't always look thrilled. Then, there were no more protestors in my yard, just me and my guardian angel.
"I'm... I'm in a bit of shock actually. I don't know how to deal with the fact that... God is real, Satan is real, there are angels and demons... oh my God I need to write about this!"
"Not so fast bucko. I gotta erase your memory. Can't have you remembering this."
"But... why? It's so fantastic."
"Because it is fantastic. You need to disbelieve it to have faith in Him. So goodbye until next time, friend."
Guardian touched my forehead with a smile, and I drifted to sleep, only to wake up in my, with no recollection.

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Not thrilled with the ending, but I was exhausted and on a deadline when I wrote this. Maybe I'll revisit it some day.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

[WP] You’re in a car accident and die. You wake up in the far future and discover that what you’ve known as reality has just been 7 billion comatose people being the subject of the galaxy’s greatest reality TV show; “Earth”.

Most people wouldn't like to be woken up to the sound of screeching strangers surrounding their bedside I think. I know I certainly didn't. The light didn't help at all either, I couldn't see anything going on, so I naturally went into fight or flight mode. I tried to thrash around, but I was so numb I could barely move a fingertip. The bright light slowly faded into a white room, and what seemed like dozens of people excitedly clapping their hands. I groaned, and rolled onto my side before a sharp pain in my back stopped me. All I could see were monitors, with numbers rolling across the screens. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes the people were gone, replaced by an old lady, a young one, and a middle aged man in a lab coat. The ladies were in tears, and the man seemed to be especially happy.
"Your wake-up has gone spectacularly Mr. Reynolds." the man said.
The young woman hugged me while the elder looked on in happiness.
"Where... where am I?" I asked.
The man leaned towards the women, and said "I told you there'd be an adjustment period."
"What the... hell is... going..."
And I drifted off again.
When I woke up, I felt renewed, like I had been reborn. I took greater stock of my surroundings, as it was my first opportunity to do so. Aside from the plethora of monitors surrounding my bedside, I saw a pristine marble countertop along the far wall, with a sink and a toilet sitting next to it. On the countertop was a single lavender flower. Clipped to the end of my bed was a camera, seemingly zoomed in on my face. The same man from earlier walked in, and with a grin, he leaned against the countertop.
"Do you know where you are, Mr. Reynolds?"
"Haven't a damn clue sir,"
"You've just woken up from Earth."
That gave me a start. What did he mean, "woken up from Earth?" The planet? My home?
"Your memories will come back soon enough Mr. Reynolds. But for now, enjoy your recovery, and when you're released you will be treated like a king."
And the man left, leaving me to ponder his words.

Monday, November 27, 2017

[WP] After they die, notably influential authors (Shakespeare, Homer, Dickens, Tolkien, etc) get to write whatever they choose into the world's ongoing narrative. It is now Poe's turn.


Christmas, if I recall, was formerly a joyous time to reunite with friends and family, to cut the roast beast, to simply relax. Lately, however, life has taken a turn for the worse. My children walk like the dead, with dark circles under their eyes, muttering about crows and the such all day. My wife, bless her soul, lies in bed on the internet, scrolling through pages and pages of droll and uninspired tabloids, never waking to see the world around. To my great dismay, I appear to be falling into the same dull, lackadaisical pattern of interminable boredom. Even the sight of my favorite team playing in the playoffs cannot spark any feelings within me; the food once delicious to me is now tainted by some unseen rot which seems to consume all I know. I cannot see why or how this all-encompassing depression has slipped its slimy fingers into myself and my family, yet I only hope to rid us of it.
Today I, with great effort, convinced myself to make my way to the grocery store to procure some goods, the manner of which I hoped to excite and delight in, to reignite the whimsy and joy of my childhood. All the meat, however, seemed to be dry and tasteless, with no flavor or texture to speak of. No matter, I thought to myself, I'll simply buy some candy. Unfortunately, after buying a chocolate bar, along with a bag of gummy worms (both of which were far overpriced), I discovered the sweet taste of chocolate seemed to simply sour my mouth, and the gummy worms were too sweet for my liking. Disgusted, I threw the commodities away. How will I regain my happiness?
Perhaps I could turn to the internet? Maybe there is some positive news I might find, something uplifting?
I was a fool to think that. The news was simply full of news of murder in the streets, corruption in the government, and decay in the economy. What is the point, I thought. It seems that nothing is sacred anymore. No religion, no relationship, no knowledge. Everything has been perverted by this societal degradation. I arrived back at my white brick house, unassuming and nearly identical to every other falsely happy white brick house in the neighborhood.
So that is why I write to you today, with my dark ballpoint pen from the mahogany desk in my study. My wife is gone now, she found life to be a rather miserable jaunt, and decided to sate her boredom with the curiosity of death. I, however, still hold hope. Despite my children missing the slightest amount of regret for their role in her death, despite knowing about my mother's failing health, despite my brother's mistress destroying his wife's car, despite my inevitable release from work for my lack of any motivation, and despite my deepest, most irresistible desire being to give up: I chose to carry on in hopes of a better world.

Saturday, November 25, 2017

[WP] You die. When you meet God he says “So, how was Heaven?”


"I'm sorry, excuse me?" I said. His kind eyes peered down as if I were his child (and in a way I assume I was). We stood on a cloud, surrounded by only more clouds and the blue of the sky. His heavenly radiance was blinding to my eyes, yet inside I could see him, though I don't remember his face. Alone in the sky, like a child to be reprimanded by a teacher, I was nervous. With a faint smile on his lips, he repeated.
"I said, did you enjoy your stay in Heaven?"
I looked down at myself. I appeared as though I was when I was 26; in the prime of my life, my favorite version of me. Before the change, the inevitable slog, generic wife and kids, and quiet death alone in the home.
"I'm sorry, I'm just confused. That was Heaven?"
He chuckled. His laugh was soft, and yet loud at the same time, the kind of laugh that fills a room and makes everyone's day a little better. After a thoughtful pause where he stroked his luscious white beard, He responded.
"I assume it's not all you took it to be, child?"
"To be honest Lord, no. The scripture says Heaven has many mansions, and that we all live in harmony in worship of You, Lord."
"You seem to be misinformed, son. Life is Heaven."
I, taken aback, took a breath as if to speak, only to reconsider and retreat into thoughtful repose. He smiled his toothy white smile again, and He grasped my tiny hand with His own tan, time-worn hand.
"You see child, to feel is to have grace. Those who do not attempt to find love have condemned themselves to their own Hell. You my friend, did not make the most of life. You never aspired to more. Your aspirations stopped at a trophy wife and two children you never grew close to. All your life the Holy Spirit was in you, driving you towards more, yet you ignored my calling to you because grace scared you. So I tell you, life is Heaven, but it is also Hell. Your downfall was your lack of love for yourself and those around you. So perhaps, I phrased my question wrong. I should ask, How did you spend your life?"
He concluded his speech, and dissipated into mist, leaving me alone in the astral illusion. I pondered His words. It was no fault of my parents. They provided me with a roof to sleep under, my values, and their love. Surely they lived a heavenly life. Was it my friends in high school? Getting up to no good, abusing the excesses of life only to wake up the next day to the same routine of monotonous repetition? No, all my friends ended up happy in the end. It wasn't my surroundings or the people I was surrounded with. The blame wasn't that of religion, or that of temptation. And I felt one tear, then two, then more than I could ever count as I recalled every single mistake, my life suddenly crystal clear in its wasted potential. Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"So, do you see now?" He said.
"Yes." I whispered.
I couldn't see Him, but I knew somehow He was smiling.
"Then perhaps you might yet find Heaven."
I felt myself falling through the clouds, faster and faster and my memory began to fade and everything became dark, except for a pinprick of light. And soon enough, the light expanded until an all encompassing white light, blinding me, only accompanied by the excited cries of two excited people.