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Cursed Eyes 4: Kiran
When I woke up in the morning, Aralya was gone. `She must have slept outside again. Why does she always do that?’ I sat up, holding my shoulder. There was barely any pain, or if there was, I was too accustomed to the sensation to feel it.
Aralya never knew the extent of pain Dichy had put me through, and I didn't plan on describing it to her. No one would ever find what I had been through if I had any say about it. If Dichy ever found out I told someone about what he did to me, he wouldn't be very happy… The thought made me shudder. When Aralya first joined us over a year ago, I was very relieved when he didn't bother her physically the way he had with me. It was actually quite surprising how passive he had been towards both her, let alone me, ever since I brought her home. I still didn't know why she had been alone in the forest in the dead of winter, but I didn't bother asking. Everyone had their secrets, and if I was
Death on the Water (Assassin's Creed-part 1 of 2) Umar Ibn-La’Ahad stared at his son, who was happily playing with a wooden hoop in the front yard. With a sigh, he turned back to the fellow assassin who stood in front of him. “You are positive of this?”
“Absolutely. You are no longer safe as long as they know where you live. It may be a dangerous journey, but you must retreat to Masyaf until you are once more out of harm's way. Do not put your son in needless danger, brother.”
“I know. I thought I had finally found a place to raise him in safety until he was old enough to fend for himself,” Umar replied desolately. “We’ll leave within the hour. Thank you, brother, for your help.”
“Never compromise the brotherhood. If you were captured, the enemy would have the opportunity to torture information from you,” the assassin replied.
Loki X Reader: Parallel 19 In pure frustration, you stormed up to the building and slammed your foot against it. The sound of sirens going off covered up the sound of popping joints and startled you into taking a step back on your damaged foot, sending pain shooting to your brain. You turned to flee, but didn’t get far. Tony had been very thorough in the programming of his defense systems to ensure that no trespassers would get away without being dealt with first. A grid of wire had been laid all around the perimeter under the ground: one that would deliver an electric shock with enough voltage to render the victim unconscious when stepped on.
Not even thinking about the security measures Tony would have taken, you took off for the street like a jackrabbit. Just before your foot landed on a wire, a voice called out, “Stop!”
Startled, you whirled around, throwing off your center of balance and falling to th
FFM 2014: Zero (Part 1) Kobus met the pilot at the local Aviation Club outside Gaborone International Airport. Word about the town had it that this Seboko fellow was the man to speak to if you wanted things done on the sly, so Kobus contacted him under the pretence of needing an illegal shipment sent overland to Europe. As it turned out, for once the word had been right.
They sat at a plastic picnic table outside the single story clubhouse and discussed logistics whilst sipping Windhoek lager, sheltered under the sparse shade of the thorn trees. Two hours later Kobus had everything he needed uploaded onto his pre-frontal hard drive. He stashed the Pilot’s body beneath a tarp in the back of his Isuzu bakkie, and started flipping through the data on the multifaceted vid-display of his octagonal sunglasses, taking stock.
There was some spotty camera footage, recordings of eyewitness accounts, found data, informatio
FFM 22: Zero (Part 4)New York City. The heart of the beast. The Corps had raised the city into the sky to flaunt their power and wealth, until the skyscrapers seemed to tear into the belly of the atmosphere itself. Even here, at the tip of Long Island, Jasmine could see it. And after years of waiting, the Lotus-Eaters possessed a means to tear it all down. It had taken some maneuvering, but the Aleph had arrived where it could be used best.
Jasmine watched Zero disembark from the veetoll with a pleased smile. The shadow of his panama hat made it difficult to see his face in the dim of night, but there was no mistaking the briefcase. He had it.
“That’s it?” she asked once they were in the van, speeding down the L.I.E. towards the City. He nodded and popped open the briefcase to show her.
“It’s not glowing.”
“It’s already been activated,” replied his companion, Mervi. From the Finland branch, Ja
The Moths"Ahh Chad, save me! The moths are entering... THROUGH THE CHIMNEY!"
"No, Brenda, no!"
"Ahh, they're eating my... MY CLOTHES!"
"Oh, the nudity! Comstock would not approve!"
"STAND BACK CHAD, I HAVE A LIGHTBULB!"
"Oh thank President McCarthy! Brandon!"
"AVAST, YOU COMMIE MOTHS!"
"Are you all right, Brenda?"
"Oh Brandon, kiss me!"
"I cannot, for I am a homosexual and so must burn myself in the name of America, with this lightbulb fantastically crafted by glass makers from the glorious American city of New York!
"Oh Brandon, you're so noble and deprived! Chad, you'll have to kiss me!"
"Anything for you, doll!"
Too Tired to Care In the hall, things lost their ominous aura, whether from the light in the living room or the realization that she’d totally gotten off the hook—something which rarely occurred. Sindri sauntered into the living room to see a limp body collapsed against the dining table, its back and chest methodically rising and falling.
“Geez,” she mumbled. “How the hell can you fall asleep through all that?” Her finger stabbed into the flesh of his back. He didn’t budge. She swept past Evan’s makeshift bed to the actual mattress. She buried her fingers in the soft fabrics of the outer blanket and drew it down. “What do you think I am?” she said, not truly concerned if he heard her. “Your personal pack mule?”
Sindri moved back to him and carefully pulled his head off of the table. When he refused to respond, she sighed, scooped her hands under his armpits and began to drag. The furniture g
InhabitationEternal Youth: Not Yet A Step Away, But the Most Valuable Symptom Is by Jeannie Mitcham
Inhabitation is an alternative to suicide and debt, especially for young people without access to insurance.
The Somerhaulder Medical Foundation is responsible for groundbreaking science into the lengthening of the human lifespan through not only elimination of disease and slowing of decay, but also through preservation of the brain and recording of the mind.
And what is their goal? Naturally: Immortality—for shareholders of this privately traded company, at least.
The SMF’s progress to actual human immortality is generations away from “complete,” however currently within reach is a very important single symptom of immortality: theoretically eternal youth.
“Inhabitation” is what provides this crucial symptom of immortality causing shareholders to be happy enough with in their own lifetimes to pay out for the immortality of richer members of future generatio
Circuits to AshesThe heart of the ship pulsed peacefully, throbbing like a healthy heart. The ship breathed.
The engineer sat against the wall and listened to it, feeling the love he had for machines calm his uncertain nerves. He never felt more at home than he did when he was working on circuits or checking power relays. Technology powered him, and he powered it.
He raised one blackened hand to a sweaty, dirty forehead. In his hand was a small square with a screen, flashing blue and illuminating his face. His clothes were shredded and hanging from his bloodied skin. He started to tap out an unreadable rhythm around the ship's beating, and then he added humming.
At his feet was the body of a young woman,lying on her back. Her head was facing away from him, and her orange hair hung in uneven braids. Blood surrounded her and a huge piece of metal protruded from her chest. Around her, pieces of metal and discarded gears were scattered. The lifeless metal head of a robot's visual sensors stared at t
Holding OnI stretched and leaning on the bench of my wagon as the donkey plodded along in front of me. This was one of the easiest ways to get around the city anymore, and I was a good deal better off than a lot of people who had to walk. The back of the wagon was empty, its use as a transport for vegetables, coal, or other goods done for the day.
I was in a gloomy mood. It had been more than a year since I had been separated from my twin sister, Dana. I could still picture her warm, happy face as we stepped off a boat some place called Kenosha, after traveling hundreds of miles from ruined Toronto. Our ultimate goal was Casper, Wyoming, said to be one of the biggest towns left in the world.
The boat had been a sturdy one, and the lake had been calm the whole trip. It seemed like a good omen. The sun was up by the time the boat landed and the crowd of people started to disembark.
"Dane," Dana said, as we walked toward the end of the ferry. "I've been thinking about the house we'll have in Casper
Into the End So, this was what a straitjacket felt like. It’d been something he’d thought about once in a while; simple curiosity after seeing it in a movie or reading about it in a book. Not too comfortable. What’d he done to deserve this? His mind erased itself each time he tried too hard to remember. Surely it was something huge; Evan didn’t even know they used those anymore.
Two pairs of hands, both stronger than his will to flee, forced him down a dim white corridor. “Everything’s going to be okay, buddy,” he heard a man’s voice behind him. “You’re gonna’ be just fine.”
Idiotic banter. What the hell did he know about Evan? Nothing. Nobody understood his plight and the struggles he suffered through. No one ever noticed the bruises, the burns or the cuts. Misguided. Views of people who didn’t care enough to look deeper. Maybe he should so
Dreams of MorpheusI woke up from the same earthbound dreams again; dreams full of sights, sounds, touch, smells and warmth. I hadn’t experienced such things for decades now, but they came to me all the same. It was my sacrifice, my name would immortalised so I was told; the life keeper, the warden, the pilot of Morpheus. Immortalised? Oh yes my name would be infamous, after what I did. Something felt different this morning; I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
I felt her stir beside me as I woke, not that Juanita really ever slept of course. If she had dreams, she never remembered them to tell me. I felt her hands reach towards me, caressing me. She knew what I liked and soon I felt her smooth, ageless pseudoskin against mine. She had once been my sexual ideal, custom made to my tastes, and I had revelled in her when we had first set out and yet, over the years, she had become nothing but a sweet gaoler. She was meant to keep me sane of course, an escape from the crippling loneliness, but m
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Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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