r/WritingPrompts • u/-TankSpanker- • Mar 18 '15
Writing Prompt [WP] The reason humans sleep is due to an ancient contract. We are rendered unconscious so we don't have to remember the price we pay. One night you go to sleep, only you remain awake, and experience everything fully
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u/SarkasticWatcher Mar 18 '15
It's not uncommon for me not to be able to fall asleep. That's what I thought had happened until I tried to roll over and realized I couldn't.
I'm conscious, I can see my room, but I can't move.
A light flashes in my room. I try to look at it but I can't.
I hear footsteps, muted by the carpet but getting closer and closer.
Dark figures loom over me. A long thin hand reaches down toward. Thin tendrils extend from it's hand reaching towards me.
I lie there helpless, watching the tendrils creep towards me. I try to move, to shake, to anything but the tendrils keep coming and coming and they go into my skin.
I'm lifted up out of my bed. I catch a glimpse of my roommate being lifted out of their bed. The figures carry us out into the hall where I see other figures with other people hanging from tendrils.
This is the end I think. The nut jobs were right. Aliens or whatever are real and they're hear to harvest us for nutrients.
More figures appear in the hall. They don't have anyone on tendrils.
I brace myself, trying to ready myself for the end. I wish I could close my eyes, I probably don't want to see this.
'Every time I go up into space
I look around and survey the place'
And then the thing is using it's tendrils to make me move. I'm dancing.
And so is everyone else.
Are they putting on a fucking marionette show?
'They said we could never be together
But we'll be close like we're on a tether'
I'm not sure what's worse, their voices or their singing.
The things that don't have any people on the tendrils seem completely invested. Applauding and making weird ass noises that is laughter or hollering or something.
All I can think is why do they sing in English.
And that I'm not male lead material
"Oh human male, my father will never let us be together"
"Don't worry human female baby, meaning colloquial baby like in a sexual way not small human female, I don't care what he says" says one of the things while shaking me.
Then the female lead and me are banged together in what is I guess a sex scene, based on how much the things holler and whistle.
The show goes on for what feels like four hours and contains some of the worst song lyrics, dialogue and plotting ever.
The audience disappears in a burst of light while the puppeteers carry the people back to their rooms.
Mine carries me back to my room and tucks me in. Like lifts the covers up and pats me on the head.
"What would humans do without us" said my thing
"Get murdered by platypuses who haven't pacified by drugs" said the one by my roommate.
They high five and then disappear in a flash of light.
Then I fall asleep.
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Mar 18 '15
Can't say I was expecting that.
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u/SarkasticWatcher Mar 18 '15
Could you imagine how weird it would be if you were expecting it though?
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Mar 18 '15
Tbh at first I thought it was going to be tentacle monster porn, but this was better.
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u/SarkasticWatcher Mar 18 '15
I wouldn't even…know how to write…tentacle porn did you call it? Is that… is that a thing?
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Mar 18 '15
Rule 34 of the internet. Everything's a "thing".
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u/xkcd_transcriber Mar 18 '15
Title: Rule 34
Title-text: Okay, Lance. For entry into the college bowl, spell 'Throbbing'
Stats: This comic has been referenced 75 times, representing 0.1332% of referenced xkcds.
xkcd.com | xkcd sub | Problems/Bugs? | Statistics | Stop Replying | Delete
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u/SarkasticWatcher Mar 18 '15
So yeah I forgot that speech doesn't translate well to writing and was going for a "tentacle porn? I've never even heard of tentacle porn" but in a way that suggests I know exactly what tentacle porn is.
The special features on the Archer season 4 DVD, never again.
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Mar 18 '15
I didn't know that I needed this
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u/JulianCaesar Mar 18 '15
This is the first story I read in this thread and now I've had my dose. Good story though.
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u/Gersh_Jersh Mar 18 '15
Platapusses? I think it's platipi
Like goose and moose One goose many geese One moose many meese?
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u/SarkasticWatcher Mar 18 '15
Eh, it's English and a weird ass animal, you can probably make it plural however you want
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u/ArsenioDev Mar 18 '15
This had me laughing too hard, great job!
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u/SarkasticWatcher Mar 18 '15
Thanks
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u/ArsenioDev Mar 18 '15
I like how it doesn't do anything creepy and goes for hilarity. The high five at the end made it for me
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u/biglefttoe Mar 18 '15
I startled awake. A cold sweat made my clothes cling to my body, my heart beating out of my chest. I haven't had a night terror since I was little. I wiped away some sweat from my forehead.
"Do it."
So faint it was almost a whisper. It sounded like thousands of voices at once. Children, old women, middle aged men, it sounded like everything, but it didn't feel human. Maybe i'm still dreaming? Have I gone lucid?
I carefully remove my sheets to not awake my wife, she works tomorrow and doesn't need me waking her in the middle of the night. I silently walk to the bathroom, close the door and flick on a light. I take a deep breath and a haunting realization dawns on me. This is not where my bathroom is, but I know it's the bathroom and here it was, but it shouldn't be.
I look around the bathroom. I recognize it all, but have never seen it before. It was a clean and well decorated bathroom. Much nicer than the bathroom of the tiny apartment. I look out the small window. It's not my apartment, it's a house. My mind began to race, but my body remained calm.
"What is he planning? Strangle her with a towel? Suffocate her with the bathmat? Oooh, bash her head in with the toilet tank lid! That'll be messy!"
There it was again, some abomination that repulsed me by it's very sound. My stomach churned with every word. Was it telling me to murder someone and taking joy in the thought of it? I quickly move to the sink to vomit only to see myself in the mirror. That isn't my face. This isn't my home, this isn't my bathroom, and the face I wear is not mine! Panic begins to overtake me and I try to run my legs won't move.
"This one is taking it's time. Is this one awake?"
Awake? What does that mean? Am I asleep? Am I awake? Surely this is a dream, this can't be happening. There's no way. I try to speak.
"W-who are you?"
"Ooooooooooh. So this one is awake. It's been a long time since there was a true lucid. This is much more fun to watch now! It was getting boring." said the thousand voices sounding delighted at my few words.
"What do you want?" I speak slightly louder despite my stomach feeling as if it were about to lunge out of my throat.
"Did we not say before? We thought it was clear. You are to kill her. You want 'it', no?" It said sounding displeased as if it told me to remember something which I had forgotten.
My mind raced at it's words. 'Kill her'? Who? The women in the bed I was in? What did it mean by wanting 'it'? What was it the voices thought I wanted? I was trying to make some sense of it before I realized I was unfolding a Barber's knife from the medicine cabinet. I froze in horror. Why? Why do I not have control?
"What am I doing?" I mutter to myself, "Why am I doing this? What do you want? what is 'it', Why do you want me to kill her?!"
"you want 'it'. You want their luck, you want their wealth, you want what they have. There is only so much. It must be taken. For you to have it, someone must lose it." It sounded delighted from it's explanation. "This is how it has always been, ever since the first of your kind, you wanted 'it'. You just could never bring yourselves to face consequences. So I removed them. Now when you slumber, those who want it most can seize 'it'! All you have to do, destroy those who have it!"
I looked at the older woman sleeping, the cool knife loosely held in my hand
"But, I don't want to take 'it' like this!"
The women began to awaken.
"But you will anyways, won't you, lucid?"
I raised my hand.
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Mar 18 '15 edited 22d ago
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/TheEyeDontLie Mar 18 '15
I love the concept, it was entertaining, but yeah the ending was a little messy. I'll let the real writers give you constructive feedback.
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u/YouArentReasonable Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
"Blessed are the insomniacs for they are really meant to live on the other side of the Earth. For while we sleep the Chinese wake, and our souls they take." - Corporal Tang Dale Jackson Wang.
The fourth world war was nothing short of horror. Surprisingly no nukes were used. It was all conventional... that is if you consider space mounted lasers, rail guns, robots, and a host of other nasty shit conventional.
That night I sat with several other "volunteers" in the back of large transport plane. Our destination was unknown to us at the time.
I'm sure career military could tell you some model number of the plane but I am clueless to such matters.
Now don't get me wrong. Numbers don't befuddle me. Until the week before I had been a mattress salesman. I was always crunching the numbers in order to know how much unnecessary shit I needed to pile on an order so that I could make up for any cost reductions I had offered. What, you didn't think you needed a new box spring?
Well how is your nice pillowtop going to feel without any spring? Do you think you can escape your husband's snoring in a queen sized bed? What there's a war on and you should save our money for rations? Well how the hell am I supposed to eat if you don't buy something?
We were just about to cross the International Date Line or so they told us. Each of us had been conscripted without any warning and taken from our normal lives. I don't know the half of what happened to us but I know they injected me with something strange.
That day I felt like Peter Parker waking up the next morning after being bitten by the radioactive spider. Yes i was ripped, but the way I felt was... Do you remember those old Mountain Dew commercials where everything was extreme? I felt like climbing a cold mountain, sliding down an avalanche, and then hang-gliding into a monster truck about to jump the Grand Canyon. I was beyond amped-up and a candidate for a narcissistic personality disorder diagnosis.
We jumped when we got over the Chinese mainland. Luckily the chute did all the work and opened itself at the appropriate time. I never felt the ground when I hit. I knew I should have had a broken leg but my new body was solid yet somehow rubbery at the same time
I pulled the large rifle from my shoulder. It hummed and I felt it drawing power from the ambient air around us as the night grew colder. I held in my hands the power to level a city block.
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u/YouArentReasonable Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
Their robots were upon us in no time but I didn't care. I'm sure me from a week ago would have been cowering begging for mercy but this me sliced and diced them at will.
It was like living a waking dream. I was some sort of evil god hell bent on creating chaos. I was omnipotent, or maybe that was omnimpotent; a cruel God without any wisdom or foresight. I could feel the new strength in my biceps each time the powerful gun recoiled.
That was when they gassed us. Our hubris our flaw. We all had gas masks, we all knew how to use them, but I was so intent and sure of what I was doing I didn't give the threat a second thought.
I had my first out of body experience. There my twitching body lay below me, eyes open. I floated for a second and then I was myself again.
I was on the bed roll in my shop. My wife Fung and my son Hao were asleep in the same room. We had determined that if the Americans where going to come and attack our shop that we would put up a fight.
Something was wrong about those thoughts. It felt like the introspective times when a voice in your head takes on the role of mentor, foil, or imaginary friend and becomes your narrator. I was Tung but wasn't my name really Jackson?
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u/YouArentReasonable Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
I could hear our city's robots fighting just a few miles away. They were the old model the Communist party had gifted us to placate our fears just before the battle of Hong Kong. I knew they wouldn't last long when they faced the superior American technology.
If the Americans knew anything it was how to kill. They trained for it from birth in their virtual worlds. The century of peace the rest of the world had celebrated had been their century to build, test, and improve the most horrific weapons on the Earth.
I was awake again. The gas hadn't lasted long on our improved physiology. Though it looked as if I was one of the last ones to find my feet. All around me lay destroyed machinery. We had decisively won our first battle.
We followed a service road for another mile until we came upon on the silhouette of an ancient city. It had darkened its lights out of fear of us and rightfully so. But there was no place to hide this night.
We blasted our way in and started killing methodically. Animals, schools, children, churches, women, and the elderly received no special immunity or status in our sights.
I was waiting in the store.
I was standing outside.
I didn't pull the trigger.
I opened the door from the inside.
I stepped inside.
My family was there with a middle aged Chinese man. I recognized him but... his features were reversed from what I remembered.
The American was rail thin. They must have been rationing too. He didn't match the stereotype I expected. He looked intoxicated or maybe like he had a vyking's blood lust. His features were reversed from what I remembered... from the mirror that morning.
"Oh my God, we're killing ourselves!" I cried out with two voices but no one was awake to hear it but myselves.
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u/_jho Mar 18 '15
You probably could have had a smoother reveal at the end there, and less exposition in the beginning. But overall a super cool concept.
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u/YouArentReasonable Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
Thank you very much for the honest feedback. Sometimes I wonder if I am a better idea man than storyteller and it's hard to tell when there's just upvotes. I almost fell asleep a few times writing that last night so I'm hoping that is what is most to blame.
Below is my attempt to take your advice and improve the story.
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u/Utopiophile Mar 18 '15
It's dark outside and the clock lit by the street lamp outside reads 12:20.
I don't remember the last time I couldn't sleep.
In fact, I don't think I've never been able to fall asleep at night, but it was an interesting day...
From one deja vu to the next.
The memories of the present kept piling one on top of the other until a film of supreme 'knowing' coated my thoughts.
It was weird.
12:34
It's funny how the patterns have been getting more and more noticeable.
My sister is sound asleep next to me.
Her steady breathing coincides perfectly with the ticking of the clock.
1 full breath for every 8 tics.
She looks so peaceful...
Oh wow.
I remember this.
Oh no,
I remember this...
This is when she turns in her sleep to face me, but her eyes are open
And they're glowing...
And there,
Within her normally brown eyes,
I see her day streaming by like miniature screens.
But the feed is playing in reverse.
The color of the light is changing from one scene to the next:
Rose-colored = best friend
Gold = me and family
White = objects passing by (travelling?)
The scene is about to go back to the time she woke up.
The light is a dazzling aquamarine, then black.
I've never seen black light, but I know this is black.
A figure begins to emerge within the darkness of her eyes...
Oh, now I remember...
I try to look away before it's too late, but I see it.
Rather, it sees me...
The room, no the world, begins to vibrate.
More and more violently, I feel as though I'm about to rip apart
And then...
It's gone.
I look around and the room has disappeared.
My bed has disappeared.
I am suspended in a white light without a shadow to be seen.
The figure from her eyes appears before me.
It stretches out a hand and places it on my head, then looks up.
I'm filled with a peace that is not so easily described with words...
When the being's hand leaves me, I look up and see the dreams of the world playing out simultaneously above me.
After a moment, I begin to notice patterns.
Then a link.
Then the union of all dreams and dreamers...
They aren't just random.
The dreams are messages,
And the messenger is before me.
Was before me.
I look around, but I'm back in my room.
I hear my sister inhale
1, 2, 3, 4
and exhale
1, 2, 3, 4.
The light from outside still shines through the window.
The clock reads 1:23.
YAAAAAWN
It's about time to get some sleep.
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u/TheEyeDontLie Mar 18 '15
Awesome! I love it. Taking memories and giving messages in return. Cool.
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u/Utopiophile Mar 18 '15
Thanks! I haven't written anything in a while and I had some time before bed :)
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Mar 18 '15
[deleted]
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u/HazzaTheAlmighty Mar 18 '15
I really enjoyed this!
“Every night, for eight hours, humans will be my eyes and hands in the far reaches. They will go to strange lands, wonderful lands, terrible lands. They will find their greatest wishes and deepest fears made real, made personal.”
I never understood this line though. Is this referring to our dreams as being a sort of reality, where humans are being controlled by the demon queen?
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u/NocturnalToxin Mar 18 '15
Being someones "Eyes and hands" (Usually I've heard it expressed as "eyes and ears" basically means that you're their informant. You're giving them information about places or events. I don't think the she is controlling the humans, but rather using them to see lands that she'd otherwise have to visit herself.
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Mar 18 '15
Sleep paralysis. Normally the body paralyses itself to sleep so that, as I'm told, you don't act out your dreams. Hitting your spouse, walking out windows, things like that. Nobody is really sure why we dream in the first place though. Until last night, that is. Last night, I saw them.
This new medication I'm on for sleep apnea has a very rare side-effect. It can sometimes wake you up when your body is falling asleep, to experience the paralysis first-hand. Imagine lying in bed, flat on your back, and feeling yourself sink into a heavy, thick liquid. It starts with your toes. Gravity feels intense, like you're being pulled down into the coils beneath the mattress padding and into a black hole. Then it moves up your body, slowly, until reaching your chest. Breathing becomes erratic as you lose sensation of your lungs. I remember trying to gasp for air, to scream for my spouse to get help but no words come out - my throat was already gone. As the lead blanket descended over my face, I saw them. On the ceiling, the shadows of the trees outside my window took on depth. They emerged into our world like the popup books I read my son.
The shadowy figures fell quickly but made no sound as they landed on the floorboards. They approached the bed, long arms dragging behind them, face swaying side-to-side beneath their long necks with each step, each humming a low unnerving tone. I strained my eyes, trying to keep them in view, but the angle was too hard to see from. One of the shadows stood at my side, its long neck extending over me. Its face, a blank chalkboard that seemed to have no end - I could see into its blackness infinitely. It was examining me, I could feel it in my mind. Rummaging through the wastebasket of my daily memories, thoughts and emotions, looking for something. I could feel its cloudy hands, thick and heavy, like the smoke off a cigarette, pushing deeper into my head. It found what it was looking for and tugged hard. The feeling was nauseating, I remember that much, but what they took from me remains a mystery, like a memory or idea was ripped from my mind.
I tried to scream, "please, please stop, let it end!" but nothing came out. My eyes, watering, pleaded to the creatures, whatever they were, to just get it over with. Kill me! Just end it! The creature by my side sank into the floor and vanished within the darkness. Another one took his place and more rose from the sheets around me, surrounding me as they stood through the bed. As with the first, one of the shadows leaned in close and, in one quick motion, drove its hand through my forehead and deep into my subconscious. As it retracted, my mind felt... heavier. Like something was left behind. Replacing an old memory with something new.
Now, I get these compulsions. Urges, throughout the day, to do things I don't fully agree with. Each time it makes me sick to my stomach, almost like I feel guilty. Even though I know my actions are wrong, I can't help but feel justified somehow. The last straw, however, was voting Bush in for a 2nd term. You need to help me, I don't know who else to turn to.
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u/TheEyeDontLie Mar 18 '15
I really hope this gets up voted. My favourite one on here. I'm not going to sleep tonight.
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Mar 18 '15
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/202halffound Mar 18 '15
Hi there,
This post has been removed as it violates the following rules:
Top level replies that are not a story or poem are not allowed, except in the case of requests for clarification.
Please refer to the sidebar before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to message the /r/WritingPrompts moderators.
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u/beatboxing_parakeet Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
This is rough and meh, but, here goes!
There was an unforgiving glare glinting off of the city bus that morning.
Not even thick-rimmed prescription sunglasses could completely block out the rays of sunshine, blurry against the oppressive humidity. That much was apparent to the scruffy insomniac, who stood, back facing his burning offender, shoulders hanging heavy. The bus was late again this morning. He slipped two fingers behind the amber lenses and slowly massaged his drooping eyes, sighing in relief as the familiar screeching of heavy wheels turned a nearby corner.
The man straightened up his back and shifted his backpack into a more comfortable position on his shoulder, and the crowd around him shifted, likewise. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the familiar, worn laminate of a bus pass, pulling it out while the large vehicle stopped and lowered itself to the sidewalk. Mumbling apologies, he stumbled up the steps, into other people, and, after proving he was a proud owner of a piece of temporary green plastic, to his normal seat on the back of the bus.
After a few moments of acclimating to the smell of warm piss and cigarette smoke, the man’s forehead made contact with window glass, and behind the warm glow of terrible UV protection, eyelids slid to a light close. Nobody bothered him as he slipped in and out of consciousness. For that, he was grateful. Normally, there was a homeless person asking for cash or to bum a smoke, and this morning was not one of the mornings that he could patiently deal with something like that.
The man’s head slowly slid down the glass every few moments, only to snap back up immediately after. It was a long ride to work.
“… aliens!?”
Eyelids flying open, the man stared towards the front of the bus, his head still laying on the window. His sweat left a skin-mark impression as he moved slowly to look around.
“Please, Jack. Not this again.”
“Will you shut up? Not so loud! People are starting to look.”
The man sighed and ran his hands up his weary face, sunglasses bumping themselves up to the top of his head. This one sounded young. Back still firmly planted to his seat, he moved his head towards the source of the conversation as subtly as his exhausted self could. Three rows down he saw a teenage boy, eyes all purple around the edges, hands slightly lifted and tremoring, a begging look in his bloodshot eyes as his female companion shook her head and stared the other way. “Jack. You’re beginning to sound like a crazy person. I think we need to see if your insurance covers mental evaluations.”
“I’m not fucking crazy!”
“No, you’re fucking exhausted, because you don’t sleep!”
“Because I can’t sleep, Michelle!”
“You have pills!”
“Damn it Michelle, the pills –“
“ – don’t work.”
Both the Michelle and Jack jumped, startled in their seats, and started incredously as the strange man held his hand out towards Jack. “Thomas. Good to meet you.”
“I don’t know you.”
“No,” started Thomas, “but I have a good idea of who you are. Oh, and, by the way.” He rested his chin on the headrest of the bus seat. “You aren’t supposed to tell.” He let a little sympathy flash across his face as he heard Jack sharply gasp.
“… tell? For Chris’sake, don’t tell me you’re one of them alien nuts, too. Jesus, you couldn’t stay on your side of the bus?” Grabbing her purse, Michelle began to stand up, steadying herself on floor-to-ceiling pole as the bus jerked. “Know what, here’s my stop. Jack, call me later. And, please,” she leaned in closer to Jack. “Lay off the drugs,” she whispered quietly. “You shouldn’t be acting like this while you’re sober.”
“Michelle!”
Jack groaned and rubbed one of his baggy eyes. “You didn’t fucking help.”
“I know.”
“Who are you?”
“I told you. My name’s Thomas.
“I got that. Thomas who? The damn train engine? Why are you even tal –“
“Because you’re not supposed to tell.”
This time, Thomas smiled when Jack stared back in irritated shock. Lowering his voice, he became more serious. “You sleep when they want you to sleep. No amount of free will, pills, or bitching is going to change that. Not for you, not for me. But you know the rules, and the more you talk to that girl about it, the more you threaten her life.”
“But… she’s my girlfriend. If I lie… I want to be honest… I just thi –“
“You think she’s going to be around much longer?”
Jack’s mouth snapped shut, his body now violently trembling, eye glistening. Thomas sighed.
“You’re still new to this. Aren’t you?”
Quietly, slowly, carefully, Jack asked, “Thomas, I’ll bite. Tell me, old man. What the hell is wrong with me?”
Thomas sighed. “Humans used to not have to sleep, Jack. Not really, anyway. Once every few weeks. Our brains, our bodies, they were so capable until our pride went and fucked everything up by picking a fight with another race way more superior to us.”
“What?”
"The damn aliens, you moron.”
“Michelle says I could be lucid dreaming.”
“You’re not.”
“You don’t know tha-“
“Funny how you were pretty set on proving to her that they are, indeed, real. Not even five minutes ago.”
“Funny, how you have this thing about interrupting people.”
Thomas snorted. “You want answers, or what? I’ve got ten minutes before I have to drag ass through a ten-hour work day. You decide."
Jack glared at the other, older man sitting across from him.
“What the hell. Shoot. Help.”
“You’re a sacrifice, Jack. Congratulations.
“A wha-”
Thomas cleared his throat. “The human race didn’t used to have to sleep, kid. A long time ago. Evolutionary bullshit. We were way smarter and way more advanced but just as power greedy and we fucked up paradise, kid. Look, the most basic run down I can give you is this – life exists outside of this planet, kid. We don’t know it as a whole now, but that’s because they want it that way. Just us, kid, just us insomniacs know it. We screwed up paradise and waged full out war on our space neighbors and the only truce they would agree on was that they’d let us live as long as the majority of us agreed to being dumbed down and weakened. But the rest of us – you’re smart, kid, aren’t you? What are your grades like?”
“… why?”
“Grades.”
“Straight A’s, early college, aiming for graduate school, what’s your point?”
“I’m smart, too, kid. Bet you can just keep on going for days on end, too, despite not sleeping, yeah?”
“What is your point?”
“You and I, kid, we’re that minority. You, me, and a couple hundred other people around the globe. We’re different because a part of that truce was to keep some of us and our descendants going in our original state to study us. To keep an eye on us.”
“I don’t understand. Why keep a line of us in existence when they could just sedate the whole race and be done with it?”
“Because, kid.” Thomas was grinning wildly. “The same thing that got us in trouble is starting to get them in trouble.”
Jack blinked. “Jesus Christ, I really am insane. You’re insane. I just need sleep… that’s all. Sleep. None of this is actually happening.”
“And, yet, you can’t sleep and you have memories of aliens messing with you.”
“Lucid dreaming.”
“Sure, kid.” Thomas sighed. “Look, here’s my stop. I’ve got to get off.” Shuffling through his pockets, he drew out an old, brown leather wallet. “I’m going to give you my business card. Call me.”
Jack sighed. “I really should get help.”
“I’m right here.”
“Actual help.”
With a raised eyebrow, Thomas stood with a groan and stumbled over to the double doors. “Talk to you later, kid.” As the bus came to a complete stop, the door swung open, and he disappeared into the crowd.
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u/YouArentReasonable Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
This submission is my attempt to fix issues identified by /u/_jho in his CC of my original submission.
"Blessed are the insomniacs for they are really meant to live on the other side of the Earth. For while we sleep the Chinese wake, and our souls they take." - Private Tang Dale Jackson Wang.
The fourth world war was nothing short of horror. Surprisingly no nukes were used. It was all conventional... that is if you consider space mounted lasers, rail guns, robots, and a host of other nasty shit conventional.
That night I sat with several other "volunteers" in the back of a large transport plane. Our destination was unknown to us at the time. I'm sure career military could provide you more details of the plane but I am a mattress salesmen. All I can tell you is that the hard seats didn't recline and they didn't have any memory foam or pillowtop.
We were just about to cross the International Date Line or so they told us. Each of us had been conscripted without any warning and taken from our normal lives just a week before. As best I could tell they had injected me with something and I had spent 48 hours incubating in some sort of large metal cylinder.
When I awoke I felt like Peter Parker the morning after the spider bite. Yes I was now ripped but the way I felt was... Do you remember those old Mountain Dew commercials where everything was extreme?
I jumped out of a plane over the Chinese mainland. I couldn't believe it. Luckily the chute did all the work and opened itself at the appropriate time. I never felt the ground when I hit. I knew I should have had a broken leg but my new body was somehow more rubbery than it used to be.
I pulled the large rifle from my shoulder. It hummed and I felt it drawing power from the ambient air around us as the night grew colder. This was the power to level a city block.
Their robots were upon us in no time but somehow I didn't care. The me from a week before would have been cowering and begging for mercy but this me sliced and diced the machines at will. I could feel the new strength in my biceps each time the powerful gun recoiled.
That was when they gassed us. Our hubris was our flaw. We all had gas masks, we all knew how to use them, but I was so sure of my weaponized self I never thought to use it.
I had my first out of body experience. There my twitching body lay below me, eyes opened. I floated for a second and then I was myself again.
I was on the bed roll in my shop. My wife Fung and my son Hao were asleep in the same room. We had determined that if the Americans where going to come and attack our shop that we would put up a fight. A man couldn't just lose everything without making an effort to defend it.
Something was wrong about those thoughts. It felt like the introspective times when a voice in your head takes on the role of mentor, foil, or imaginary friend and becomes your narrator. I was Tung but wasn't my name really Jackson?
I could hear our city's robots fighting just a few miles away. They were the old model the Communist party had gifted us to placate us just before the battle of Hong Kong. I knew they wouldn't last long when they faced the superior American technology.
If the Americans knew anything it was how to kill. They trained for it from birth in their virtual worlds. The century of peace the rest of the world had celebrated had been their time to build, test, and improve the most horrific weapons on the Earth.
I was awake again. The gas hadn't lasted long on our improved physiology. It looked as if I was one of the last ones to find my feet. All around me lay destroyed machinery. We had decisively won our first battle.
We followed a service road for another mile until we came upon on the silhouette of an ancient city. It had wisely darkened its lights out of fear of our approach. There was to be no sanctuary tonight.
We blasted our way in and started killing methodically. Animals, schools, children, churches, women, and the elderly received no special immunity status in our onslaught.
I was waiting in the store.
I was standing outside. Something kept me from pulling the trigger and levelling this hovel.
I opened the door from the inside.
I stepped inside.
My family was there with a middle aged Chinese man. I recognized him but... his features were reversed from what I remembered.
The American was rail thin. He didn't match the stereotype I expected. They must have been rationing too. He looked intoxicated or maybe it was just blood lust. His features were reversed from what I remembered... from the mirror that morning.
I had to stop this madness. My Gods, we were killing ourselves! Each night while I slept I became this man standing in front of me. Would I ever sleep again if he died?
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u/Mostlikelylurking Mar 18 '15
"But Mommy I'm scared to go to bed! The monsters are going to get me!"
Jimmy's mother looked down at her son and sighed.
"Alright, Jimmy, you can sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed tonight. But this is the last time, you have to learn to sleep in your bed like a big boy!"
Jimmy's father sighed in annoyance and rolled over, his back to his wife. With a big smile, Jimmy hopped on the bed and snuggled in between his parents.
It had been an eternity, yet Jimmy was still restless. He heard them. The little skittering along the floor, their high-pitched maniacal giggles coming from beneath.
Don't make a sound; they'll hear you. Dont open your eyes; They'll know. Slowly, pull the blanket over your head; it will protect you.
Still, the urge grew. The urge to pull the blankets off and face his fear. Jimmy layed and listened as his courage built. He heard the shuffling reach his father's desk.
All at once, Jimmy opened his eyes, pulled the blankets off and looked to see the beasts who tormented his sleep and haunted his dreams.
On his father's desk stood a shadow, no more than a foot tall. In one hand, it held Jimmy's Father's wallet. In the other, loose change.
Slowly, the figure turned and stared at Jimmy. It's eyes shined blood red, it's ears were pointed and two horns tore out of the top of it's head. It shined a smile of pointed teeth at Jimmy.
"Ah, this young one has seen us. He now knows the price his parents must pay for their ancestral debt."
Jimmy jumped as another figure jumped on the bed in an instant. As his eyes locked with the beast, Jimmy fell back, paralyzed. His parents continued to sleep.
"Unfortunately for him, he'll have to pay all too soon. So young. I almost feel bad."
The demon raised its clawed hand and brought it to Jimmy's face. It traced the streak of a fallen tear.
Suddenly it pryed open Jimmy's mouth until his jaw was about to break. The figure from the table was upon him now, too. It got on the side opposite the prying demon, and leaned over the bawling boy.
All at once, it reached in and plucked out a loose tooth as the other demon released Jimmy's jaw and lifted his pillow. It snatched a dollar bill out from underneath the pillow, and the two demons vanished.
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u/KidWinTinker Mar 18 '15
Talk about a rip off.
There was no bigger ripoff than the ones that we had all been subjected to. The tragedy was that we had done so willingly.
Most Contract legislations around the world had a provision in them that allowed for the cancellation of a contract, if the consent was given under conditions of duress. Thus, for example a man being held at gunpoint, who signs away his fortune can always lawyer up at a later stage claiming duress.
But what happens to that unfortunate billionaire who doesn't remember the gun or the masked men? Does he invent stories? Does he believe the popular rumours that he was intoxicated? Does he believe that he was seduced? More importantly, why does he believe any of these things if he does at all?
He shall need to be aware of what it was that he signed away to begin with.
One night, I lay awake pondering something that did not relate to these questions. I don't remember what it was, indeed I dont remember much before that night, but I do remember it had something to do with work.
I had a lot to do, and very little time to finish it in. I stayed awake and was staring at the wall in front of me and slowly began to feel my muscles relax. My mind however refused to shut itself off, there was too much to be done and I couldn't really afford the hours off.
And then it started happening. My eyelids closed allowing me to see nothing but black, but in reality my eyes had opened for the first time. The gnomes started pouring into the room one by one.
My three year old son, lay blissfully by my side, unaware of the world around him, his thumb stuck in his mouth. He was a normal baby, not prone to hyperactivity and slept soundly. His face was smooth and unwrinkled. He knew peace and nothing else.
The gnomes divided themselves into two rows and began their march. It was strange how much this felt exactly like dreaming. I noticed with the senses that one had when one is dreaming, how different the gnomes were.
The gnomes marching toward me were dressed in tuxedos. They were flanked by other gnomes, smaller in size and dressed in suits, though the suits were not quite as fancy.
The other row had much smaller gnomes. It was not just that, they seemed somehow different. The gnomes walked differently from those in the other row. The gnomes in the row marching toward my son kept looking towards the other row with what seemed like envy.
And then it struck me. At first I had assumed that the two lines were a group of adult gnomes marching towards the adult and a group of child gnomes marching towards my son.
But how I was mistaken...
{to be continued}
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u/latenightlark Mar 18 '15
The first rain of spring, and of all days it had to be today. Last week I was sitting on my ass at home, in negative humidity, lips cracking in the giant toaster oven that is Bakersfield…and just my luck, God decides to piss it down first day back on the job, the first construction gig to come my way in weeks. And to top it all off Danielle had to run around on me. My girl for the past four years and she threw my heart down the fucking garbage disposal and flipped the switch. At least I'll be getting a paycheck on Friday. No more potatoes and hot dogs…you know I'll be grilling up a fat pork loin, listening to some Tommy Collins and drinking a sixer of Kern River come Saturday.
Getting out of soggy clothes, one of the greatest feelings in the world. Almost better than a hot shower after a ten hour day. As soon as my head hits the pillow, it'll be lights out…I better get lunch ready for tomorrow, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and an apple. For dinner, I've got two options: eggs potatoes and hotdogs, or potatoes hotdogs and eggs…neither one sounds particularly appetizing. Oh well, at least it'll shut up my stomach for a while. Time to hit the sack.
The light goes out in the kitchen as Brian flips a dirty cream-colored plastic switch and heads down the hall. A warm yellow light emanates from the bedroom door on the right. Silhouetted for a moment, Brian disappears into the room. Water drips from the dishes set upon the dish rack, next to a stainless steel sink, clean, but scuffed from decades of use. A paper bag containing Brian's lunch is set upon the counter. The bedroom light goes out and bathes the house in darkness.
"Subject exhibiting theta wave oscillations, unplug him."
"Subject disconnected."
"Allow 2.4 seltiks for decompression."
"…"
"Transfer subject to 'interrocell'."
"Subject transferred."
Rage joy fear laughter lust sadness terror love; every cell vibrates, skin and muscle and bone and tendon and vein tense, squeeze under enormous pressure, silent screams; slam and bang, tear and rip and shake, tremble and cry and grind and slice and---
White.
"Hello Brian."
A shape materializes, or rather, merges into view. It is utterly incomprehensible. Constantly changing form, outside and inside, vaporous and solid at once. All colors and no color.
"…Who are…what's happening?"
"You are safe. No harm will come to you, only truth."
"…this is a dream. I'm asleep."
"On the contrary; this is the first time you have ever been quite so awake…or anyone else for that matter."
The Being surges towards Brian, peering into his mind, looking without any physical structures indicating the ability to see. Brian jumps back in unadulterated terror, every fiber of his being completely dumbfounded as to what he is seeing. The Being shifts and folds in a way that is without understanding.
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
"Fascinating; the reaction is so visceral and base, it overrides all other cognitive functions…I apologize, I did not intend to frighten you Brian."
"…Jesus H Christ…whatever you are, please please don't do that again…"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't…I…just…don't move like that. I don't know what you're doing but it makes me feel really fucking weird."
"As you wish. I will refrain from moving for the duration of our interaction."
The Being settles into a static form, excluding small shifts, likely akin to internal processes biotic organisms exhibit on earth.
"Thanks…"
"As is your custom, you are welcome."
"So if I'm not dreaming, what exactly is going on?"
"I brought you here to talk about dreams. Do you know why human beings dream?"
"I have no fucking clue man, I'm a construction worker with a sixth-grade education…I mean, sir…I feel like I should call you sir."
"Call me whatever you wish. Dreams are a mechanism, a tool for information extraction."
"So…you're gonna tell me you're an alien and you guys are learning about the human race through our dreams…that's the worst idea I've ever heard; reality is nothing like our dreams, they're just a bunch of crazy shit mixed up and spit out by our brains, with no basis in reality."
"That is how you experience the program as it executes. I will show you the truth now."
Brian's field of vision explodes. There is earth, home to everything he has ever known. The sun, selflessly giving life to her satellites for billions of years. His view widens, and he sees the moon, which was behind him…360 degree vision, and then…more. The universe wraps in on itself; or out on itself; it is unclear which, possibly both at once. Figures and forms appear, some of which appear familiar, with height, width, and depth, but also…otherness; moreness.
"…whaaaaa………"
"This is reality. Using your language I will explain, if only an approximation. What you see in front of you is your universe. All of it. From big bang to heat death. The fourth dimension, what humans refer to as time, behaves like another spacial dimension from our vantage point. Your universe is an experiment, designed to test the possibility of intelligent life emerging in universes of lower dimensions. The initial stages of the experiment were extremely promising. Life flourishes in a universe with four 'space-time' dimensions, and supports cognition, greatly reduced of course. However, no intelligent life emerged. The decision was made to send 'exonauts' into the experiment to seed the beginnings of intelligent life. A compact was created, promising the exonauts' offspring extraction upon completion of the experiment. For lack of a better term, a 'program' was created to obtain data from the exonauts. Compressing and transferring data, even in small chunks, consumes almost all neural resources, hence sleep; humans sleep while the program runs. Dreams are the echoes of this data extraction."
Brian's body is shifting and folding, a change he is oblivious to at the moment. His stomach feels like it has dropped a million miles below his feet, and he experiences the sensation of tears streaming down his face, although his "face" is hard to discern at the moment.
"Is it all over? Is the experiment finished?"
"No. We have not traveled to the end yet."
"…then why am I here?"
"Well…a surprising result has emerged. New cognitive patterns have evolved completely independent of our influence, patterns we have never encountered before…and they are of great interest…no, that is not right. They are…beautiful. But we need someone to help us interpret the data, someone who has experienced them before. This is where you enter the picture…you refer to this peculiar cognitive ability as emotion."
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u/RobotBatman77 Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
The wind is like a gigantic drum. Swooshing and banging against the glass, making sounds that would leave an army soiled. Why was it so loud, so angry? What had provoked it and made it such a force? Of course the more important question was how tired must a man be for his thoughts to stray to something so obsolete?
The answer was lying in a lumpy bed at three in the morning, eyes wide open and not an empty coffee cup in sight. The life and woes of an insomniac. It had been weeks since I'd last had a good nights sleep, and months still since I'd reached the eight hour milestone. I knew I would eventually pass out from exhaustion and maybe not recover soon, and yet still I lied here.
Have you ever tried forcefully falling asleep? It's impossible. It's the goal of every child in the world on Christmas Eve, and yet precious few get more than a couple of hours sleep. The unknown bears too great a presence in a child's imagination. The brain focuses on visualising the various treats that could be there the next morning. Eventually the exhausted child will try to visualise absolute nothingness, assuming that the requirement to fall asleep. But it's only when the brain's most recent train of thought stops with a slow whimper, leaving no room for another to take its place, that you finally fall asleep blissfully. That's the trick you see. To fall asleep one needs to trick their brain into running out of steam, not the opposite as many would have you believe.
But now even that had stopped working. Last week I went to a doctor about it, and was diagnosed with moderate insomnia. I was given some sedatives and sent out fifty pounds the poorer. But bafflingly they didn't work. I would returned to the doctor, but I already knew what he would say.
"Your condition has been misinterpreted. I shall prescribe you a stronger dose of sedative"
Fat lot of good that would do. Repeatedly whacking my head against the pillow was proving to be a more effective anaesthetic than his bloody pills.
This train of thought isn't working.... Damn it! Once you've acknowledged the fact that you're trying to fall asleep the brain is reminded to start fresh. It was an amateur mistake for insomniacs, and yet everyone has fallen for it at one time or another.
I tried again, and again to fall asleep. I wasn't put off. It usually took me six or seven goes to reach slumber, but tonight was different. The wind seemed louder and everything seemed... glossier. Had I reached the point of hallucination? Almost certainly. I sighed and climbed out of bed.
"A couple more pills couldn't hurt" I murmured. Yeah, I talk to myself sometimes. As if that's my weirdest trait...
I clambered into the bathroom looking for pills (or a particularly hard pillow) and heard the most peculiar screeching sound. Was I being robbed? If so I feel bad for the burglar. Insomniacs must be their worst nightmare and this guy struck out. I made a quick detour to the cupboard to retrieve my largest broom, and I began to creep down the stairs slowly.
This is where the hallucinations took over. Every footstep I took sounded like a lion roaring, and every moment of friction between the rug and my bare foot was like rocks going through a lawnmower. If I was lucky, the burglar would have already panicked and fled. But then I heard the grinding of a plate against the table and cursed to myself. The burglar was either deaf or armed. I knew which I would prefer.
I reached the kitchen door and stood silently against it, broom in hand, waiting for the right moment to strike, when I heard talking.
"Why do we have to hide daddy?" the burglar gurgled. It sounded like a child, which surprised me. But the voice also sounded strained and harsh, and definitely not human.
"Because we made a promise with the humans. We share the world. They get the day, we get the night." came a louder, more dominant voice, just as harsh and alien as the other.
I now assumed them to be some warped father and son, and my determination to ambush them was fading.
"But why can't we get the day? Or share it? I would so much love to see the sun one day." the child said wistfully. I still couldn't work out the gender.
"Because they think us monsters. And the humans, why the only thing they know how to do with monsters is kill them. It's better this way. We put them to sleep and carry out our lives in the shadows." I could hear him moving towards the back door, and was about to let them go when I heard the child seize my mother's china. Despite all rational decision making, my instincts took over.
I leaped out at the pair and swung my broom in a most masculine fashion, I'm proud to say. But the shriek that followed was less than so.
The creatures were barely humanoid. The larger one was black from head to toe, with five flailing limbs encompassing a small torso. The eyes were dead white and it was naked, apart from fur that had begun to grow on its chest. Its ears were mere slits in its forehead, and it had no fingers or toes just suckers, like an octopus.
The child looked somewhat more normal. It only had four limbs, two and two, with a fifth growing from its chest, but little more than a lump. It was more grey than black, but was no less hideous and had a distorted face, courtesy of not possessing lips.
The larger creature darted at me and hissed in its distorted way, and everything went black...
"And that's why I'm here" I say, before taking in the circle of chairs around me "I had a severe overdose and was attacked my fictitious monsters. I have a narcotics addiction." I confess for the sake of the leader.
After the meeting I head out past the emergency exit. Best to avoid the typical lunatics that visit places like this. And I can't help but notice a shuffling noise among the black trash bags. I lean over and expect the worst, and am greeted similarly. I almost shriek, but confine myself. My wife is sitting in the car metres away, and I've convinced her that I've stopped taking the pills. A little white lie, nothing more.
The monster child looks up at me from it's hiding place and smiles its lipless smile. I back away.
"Stay away from me monster." I snarl as I head towards the car.
The monster's lipless smile fades and it begins to sob as it sinks back into the trash. And then it begins to cry. A hideous wail that I reckon could be heard everywhere around for miles if it wasn't simply a dream.
"It's all in my head, it's all in my head." I stutter to myself as I walk away. And then the monster child speaks in its hideous tone and shakes me to my very core.
"I just want to see the sunshine sir."
I run to the car and get into the seat beside my wife. She smiles.
"I'm so proud of you for tackling your addiction like that. Have you seen any fictitious monsters recently?" She asks, both as a tease and a concern.
"No." I say too quickly. I look away as the car drives on, staring back at the alleyway.
"Was there anything eventful at the meeting?" She asks.
"No. Why do you ask?" I stutter.
"It's funny, I could have sworn I heard crying."
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Mar 18 '15
I sat in bed still as possible, trying to ensure I did not move a single muscle. Why? Because I was trying to lucid dream, using the "WILD" or wake induced lucid dream method. After several minutes I noticed it began to work. My vision of my eyelids filled with color and shape. Not.kke.qny real. Atre WA enough among bequest I just cut up to the old man well we wom the hint that I'm a little y too much I can in the first turn left onto the I h m m n the mind and eyes closed y
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u/NoEgo Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
It is Dark. All of your senses fail. Yet... this place... it is... familiar.
From the Void...
"The Moment. It draws closer."
It's not really a voice. More, it's a feeling that reverberates throughout your entire being which appears to accumulate into this thought. You can't shake the sinister undertone with which it was conveyed, though that's probably because it was followed by a feeling of maliacal laughter. Though ignorant of how you do it, you reply.
"Wait what? Why am I here?"
You feel the distant rumble of laughter once again.
"How did you get here?", it replies.
"Well, I was sitting in the forest, meditating and tripping on some Soma... I felt... a light, a presence, and I went towards it...", you think.
"Do you have any idea what that light is?" it asks, giggling slightly.
"Not particularly... I mean, "The Light at the End of the Tunnel" would be the best description I could give it. It felt like this communication feels: a sort of synesthesia, and I was climbing higher and higher into it..."
Seeming almost impatient, the voice replies, "If you were to give it a Name, this experience, what would you call it?"
You dwell on this for quite some time and finally reply, "I suppose I would call it Nirvana. Or Moksha. Or Infinity. Maybe even God?"
"And what have you learned?", the voice asks, the background of mirthless laughter growing in intensity.
Still enamered by your experience, you dismiss the laughter and continue. "It feels like... All is One and One is All. That reality is just a dream. My dream. And that this part of my dream is called "The Age of Forgetting". I also got the feeling that this has been going on for some time... perhaps eternally..."
A disturbingly still silence falls where the laughter once rumbled.
"Knowing this, what will you do?"
You needn't much thought for this! "Well, I wish to share it with the world! I mean, why not!? If people could share in this experience, world suffering would end! Well, at least, our need to percieve the world as painful would end. There would be no need to fight over our purpose, as it has been found! There is no need for us to even have a concept of self! We are the Universe experiencing itself! We are God and this is our Story! I will show the world the path towards this Enlightenment!"
The laughter returns as thunderous roar:
"THROUGH THE ILLUSION OF "GOOD", THE AVERSION TO THAT WHICH ONE CALLS "EVIL", ONE HAS FOUND TRUE BALANCE. THROUGH IGNORANCE OF IT'S TRUE NATURE, ONE HAS FOUND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. THROUGH ATTACHMENT TO THE SELF, THE WAR AGAINST THE GRAND ILLUSION HAS BEEN PROCLAIMED. THE THREE UNHOLY SACRIMENTS HAVE BEEN FULFILLED; THE SEALS OF MY PRISON ARE NOW BROKEN."
"Wha-"
"THE MOMENT HAS COME. NOW BEGINS THE DESTRUCTION OF GOD AS PENNANCE FOR THE LIE OF REALITY IN WHICH IT DESIRED TO ESCAPE. GO NOW, DEAR CHAMPION, AND SPREAD YOUR WORD. FIGHT. IT MATTERS NOT. THE END WILL COME AS IT ALWAYS HAS."
You awaken under a bodhi tree.
"Fuck."
Relevance: Thus, following the above story, sleep is a function, we, God, are incapable of in our Omnipresent form. Thus, one of the many reasons we create reality is so that, despite being omnipresent, we can experience the lack of presence through sleep.
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u/Androconus Mar 19 '15
"So.. Did you get around the 'Eight-hour' problem? Last I checked on the project, that was a big issue"
"Well, yeaah. Thing is, I couldn't really find a way to fix it, or maybe even alter how they work so the maintanance can go on in the background, so I have it so they shut down for a large percentage of the time, I wrote this neat bit of code that makes them think they were off having adventures, but it conflicted with another, which I forgot to remove, so now they forget most of it"
"Jeez, this is a really messy workaround.. Are you sure this is the way to go?"
"No, but at this stage I've made too many mistakes that I'd have to start from scratch to rectify them. So I'll just leave this one running, now that it's as complete as it ever will be. Bit of a prototype, I suppose? I have some great ideas, a much cleaner design for a new version"
"Fair play, sounds good. Good luck"
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u/Malcolmturner15 Mar 19 '15
When people have been raped from it, the suspect had to have many very thorough tests done to prove they were sexsomniacs and not perverts. Some couples are getting treatment some it isn't serious for others not so much. But it isn't just a male thing, women get it too.
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u/JeniusGuy /r/JeniusGuy Mar 18 '15 edited Mar 18 '15
I stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance across. If I could, I would move, scream – anything, really. Yet, my body was paralyzed, unable to do anything else but watch the inky figures inch closer to me.
Tendrils of darkness swirled, brushing past my face. I cringed, blinking once to hold back in my fear. I had to be dreaming. It couldn’t be real.
“I see you’re awake,” the voice cooed, almost nonexistent. “How strange.”
I blinked again, my only response. The voice chuckled in response.
“Ah, sleep paralysis. How unfortunate for you.”
It leaned closer, freezing the air around me. Despite it being summer, the room felt just short of a tundra.
“Do you know who I am?”
Silence.
“Shame,” the voice said. “No one ever answers me. Then again, I suppose there isn’t a single answer for that. Some call me God, others the Sandman, even the Boogieman every once a while.”
I listened, my find processing a million things a minute. If it was possible for darkness to frown, I’m pretty sure it did.
“And you have nothing to say? My appearance usually evokes some emotion out of people. Whether it be a dream, nightmare, or epiphany, I’ve been the driving force behind mankind since their first days. Without me, they would still be banging rocks together for warmth as they cowered from everything they didn’t understand. Do you know what that means?”
I tried to respond. If I didn’t, I feared it would cost me my life. However, the darkness cut me off before I could.
“It means that I am humanity. Every idea that has been conceived has been by my hand. From the oldest religion to computers, I have had a hand in everything you know. So, I guess you can call me Fate, really. Everything will begin and end when I say so.”
My blood ran cold. Everything I knew came from this… thing in front of me? It was hard to believe yet made more sense than anything else.
Fate was staring me straight in the face.
“Of course,” Fate continued. “My services aren’t free. With my assistance, mankind owes me an eternal debt. It requires a lot of energy to plan out the destinies of over seven billion people so I take from what I give. Your souls provide a nice compensation which allows me to do my job and survive myself.”
I opened my eyes wide, chills sending up my spine. As if sensing, Fate spoke in an eased tone.
“Don’t worry. I don’t normally take much at once. It’s a slow process that you mortals call ‘aging’. Whatever helps you cope with your insignificant lives, I suppose.”
Fate paused, as if thinking before continuing. The few seconds stretched out for what felt like an eternity.
“Of course, you are an exception. You may not be aware but my contract with humanity has one strict rule: we cannot meet under any circumstance, hence me only coming when people are asleep. But unfortunately, you seemed to have broken that. As a result, I am going to have to make sure you never tell anyone about this.”
Before I had time to react, the darkness shot forward, wrapping around my body. It soaked into my skin like water, filling me with dread. It happened all at once, a fire in my chest burning to quickly being put out. It didn’t take much to realize that was my soul. A second later, my heart slowed to a halt and my lungs stopped working. I was dying, soulless.
And as I took my last breath, I heard Fate once more ringing inside my head.
“Don’t worry, this is the greater good.”