Note: I am reposting this since I accidentally published it out-of-order.
A Different Life
Everyone moved slowly except for Lucy. They had done so for as long as she could remember, and had grown accustomed to it at this point. She sat, sketching the scene of the lecture hall before her, as the professor slogged through the lesson on character development, one word at a time. With so much more time than everyone else, Lucy had explored and developed several interests—from art to writing and reading. She felt as if she lived in a different world than everybody else. It got lonely.
The Shadow
The group looked up and it was there, standing before them, face turned down to peer at them. It was seven or eight feet tall and practically a shadow in the night air, save its face—that was something else. It was a mess of tomato-red bumps, with dark crimson in the valleys between them. Two dark holes—near the edges of its face—resembled eyes.
The Shadow advanced on them in a sudden motion, and, as the group turned to flee, the Shadow formed an arm of similar texture to its face and—with impossible reach—seized one of the friends by the head.
Note from Theory: in the following story, "Not Sorry", the bold text is meant to represent "dialogue" in a monospace font such as Courier New, but - do to the limitations of this forum - that was not possible (to my knowledge). The best text styling to convey what I intended by choosing monospace that I can think of is SMALL CAPS, but it is honestly easier to just use bold and italics.
Not Sorry
Did you...accomplish the task?
…yes…yes I did.
Good, good. Next, I want you—
Next!? But you said—
You and I both know that what I said is not relevant.
Don’t you even…even care about the people you…the people you…
Sometimes, yes. But ultimately I am not sorry. It needed to be done.
CAUTION: The following story contains a creepy and murderous clown.
The Clown
The clown’s smile was the first thing that actually unnerved Roy in this place. The clown's teeth were yellow and rotting, with hints of red on them. Roy took a step back.
“What’s wrong? Did I scare ya?” the clown said, sitting up and taking a step toward Roy. “Well, good. You oughta be.”
The doors slammed shut behind Roy, and the clown reached into his pocket. “Wow, that was actually pretty scary,” Roy said, relaxing as he realized this must be all part of the haunted house.
“Oh, you thought that was scary?” the clown said, giggling, as he pulled out a bloodstained butcher knife—how did that fit in his pocket?—and chucked it straight at Roy.
The Essay
Peter stared mindlessly at the blank white screen before him. He hadn’t moved in an hour. He knew he had to finish the essay by tonight, and it was already nearing evening. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of anything. He decided to take a short break. Maybe a walk around campus would do him some good?
And so, Peter strolled on the rainy day on the concrete walkways of his university campus. He tried to enjoy the fresh air, but found his mind returning to the to-be-written essay. He should be working on it now… Time was running out, he had put off the paper for too long, thinking he could just do it later.
Feeling no better than he had when he’d left, Peter trudged up the steps to his dorm room. He briefly considered simply not doing the essay, but he didn’t see himself as that type of student, and he doubted it would make him feel any better. Peter had written essays like this before; he knew he could do it. That didn’t make it any easier.
Peter slumped back into the spinning chair at his desk, opened up his laptop, and resumed his staring.
Only one story this day, but the next one (which should be published about a minute after this one) has more!
- Theory
Hungry
His stomach growled, but he couldn’t sate it. Not yet. He still had patients to deal with. As the next one—a young man—entered, he forced himself to focus on anything other than his hunger. Each time he finished the meager rations, he looked forward to the next meal—if you could call it one.
His patient turned out to have signs of that new sickness that was rampant in these parts. He hoped he hadn’t caught it. The sickness hadn’t claimed any lives…yet. Though it was also fairly new—the first case being a mere week ago—so no one could be very sure of anything.
The Moment
It was time. The moment he’d been waiting for all his life. Pack on his shoulder, he squinted up at the midday sky where the large reflective vessel was descending. All around him, people were standing, bewildered, in the streets. Cars were stopped, with people leaning out the windows or getting out to gaze at the metallic beast from beyond.
Highway
I rolled down the driver-side window and gazed through the windshield at the landscape passing alongside the highway. Rock music blasted from the radio and the wind roared in my ears. Left arm resting partway out the open window, I bobbed my head to the beat. The sun warmed me, but not so much as to be a bother.
Suddenly, I heard the cars in front of my honk their horns, and distant crashes began sounding. Looking ahead down the slope of the highway, I couldn’t immediately see what the disturbance was, though I almost rear-ended the car in front of me as its brakes squealed. All around me, cars stopped and people began opening their doors, standing beside their cars and peering at the sky.
And then I saw it.
Campus
Jade finished her lunch—one of the less appetizing college meals—and walked out of the dining hall, backpack on her shoulders. It was a sunny day in early fall, with leaves beginning to populate the campus walkways. As Jade walked distractedly, phone in hand, the sun faded—there must have been clouds moving in.
r u seeing this? Her friend, Jamie, texted.
Seeing wht? Jade replied.
the SKY!!
Jade paused, looking up from her phone toward the sky.
Your DOOM!
Roy walked past the third ride with a CLOSED sign. Did they have any open attractions in this dump? At last, he reached some sort of haunted house. It appeared to be open. Finally, Roy thought as he walked across the creaky wood floor inside the haunted house. There, he was met with…a clown. A sleeping clown. I bet they didn’t expect anyone to actually come to this place. “Hey,” Roy said as he walked over to the snoring man in a clown’s costume.
He stirred in his wooden chair, then sat up and blinked. “Oh, hey there,” the clown said.
And smiled.
Redacted
[Pause 00:35–00:39]
[00:40] S1: Very well, we have...methods I believe will loosen your tongue.
[00:48] Speaker 3: Hold still.
[00:50] S2: Wait—
[Pause 00:51–01:00]
[01:01] S1: Now, what can you tell me about [redacted]?
[Pause 01:07–01:10]
[01:11] S2: [redacted]
[01:34] S1: Anything else?
[01:37] S2: No.
Absent
Missed You This Morning
Jane,
I didn’t see you at the cafe this morning. Where were you? Did something come up?
Best,
Carl
Carl Hendrick
Assistant Head of Research [email protected]
Temporal Research Laboratories (TRL)
* * *
Re: Missed You This Morning
everythings fine yeah something came up im busy
Jane Rhine
Head of Research [email protected]
Temporal Research Laboratories (TRL)
* * *
Re: Missed You This Morning
Jane,
Jane, are you alright? Do you want to reschedule? What you said sounded very important.
Carl
* * *
Re: Missed You This Morning
Carl,
I am well, but I appreciate your concern. I was mistaken. We no longer need to meet to discuss this matter.
Sincerely,
Jane
The Message
It sounded like some sort of SOS, but she could only make out every other word—and even then just barely. Anyone…hear… Emergency…help… But who could it be? And why did they need help? She tried asking this, but got no response, only static.
Fruit
Shaky hands beginning to sweat, he continued to maneuver the snake around his computer screen, collecting the “fruit.” He didn’t know if he could stop. He didn’t know what would happen if he lost. All he knew was that he had to keep playing. So he did.
The Photo
The group of friends gathered around and stared with wide eyes at the photo displayed on the phone, held in trembling fingers. It depicted them. And something else. In the photo, it stood behind them, unnaturally tall and looming. It wasn’t human.
A Dark Room
Zack regained consciousness. Groggy, it took him a minute to regain awareness. Once he did, he found himself bound to a metal chair in a dark room. He struggled against his restraints, but it was no use. They were too strong. The last thing he remembered was nearing the door of Carla’s house, then they—whoever they were—had crashed through the yard in their black armored trucks and knocked him out.
As his eyes adjusted, Zack could make out faint shapes in front of him. A table? As his hands were tied behind him, and the chair appeared bolted to the floor, Zack couldn’t reach out or move closer to check.
A few minutes later, Zack heard a voice, belonging to a man he couldn’t see.
“Good, you’re awake,” the man said. “If you cooperate, it will be much easier for the both of us.”
Lights. Voices. Memory.
Young Jim, back at his aunt’s house, sat in a chair by the window, trying to both remember and forget that scene. It had been several years ago, and he had been a mere boy then. He still was, just older. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, giving way to the moon, Jim thought back to that moment when his family—parents, older brother—had been taken. Abducted. Why had he been spared?
Conspiracy
After two and a half weeks, Cerise was finally accustomed to her…uniquities. Mostly. She only occasionally stumbled or forgot she was walking with metal. She no longer had those daily check-ins with the cybernetics doctors, though they encouraged her to give them a call should she ever need help. Cerise no longer needed a cellphone for that; her brain had implants that allowed for access to the internet and let her make calls and send texts just by thinking about it. That she was not used to. She tried not to think too much about what that meant…what any of this meant.
The cybernetics doctors had developed a way to conceal the cyborg parts, offering it for free to anyone willing. Cerise had declined. It had felt right, though she couldn’t explain why. Many people stared, a few of them even considerate enough to make a meager attempt at hiding it. Cerise, however, was too busy to care, for there was conspiracy afoot.
Old
He was old. Sitting on his porch in a rocking chair, he gazed down at his wrinkled hands, then across the field and toward the setting sun. He smiled, remembering his long-gone wife. She had been able to turn any day into one like this, and the memory of her sometimes achieved the same effect. He closed his eyes, peaceful, and dozed off.
Hope you enjoyed!
Please consider letting me know what text formatting (like for separate paragraphs within a story) works best!
- Theory
