An unsaid agreement Never even whispered Restated quite frequent Said only inward
You’re my parasocial Paradise paradigm You aren’t quite as noble But you are my bloodline
The one I only talk to Who gathers all the friends I always pay my due My service that I won’t ever end
The other day, you beckoned She took it by surprise “Don’t bully her,” she reckoned But I don’t think to cry
“#%+*$&..”
The long legged creature upon her shoulder continuously produced chittering sounds, dispersing certain spaces between with signals of clicks. Her attention was fully absorbed in those clicks, for they directed her through the endless stream of the desert. If she missed a chirp, she would be sent off the path, doomed to wander aimlessly as a ghost, but there were other ways it directed her. Its rhythmic chitters eased her, plucking a wheedling string in her brain, like how the noise of rain battering against thin metal soothes and reminds her of home. Home, where rain pours spontaneously, singing a harmony of thunk, thunk, thunks against the roofs of the houses, coating the green scene in a misty blue..
“$:?#}- •• ••• • •• ••••”
She peels her mind away from the memory, listening to the clicks, the certain series of such corresponding east, west, what not that she had to face. Her body stilled to hone all of her attention upon the relayed information, absorbing it fully. That’s how she knew it was off. The creature on her shoulder pointed her in the direction of which she came, when she should’ve gone somewhere forward. There was no way the oasis could suddenly reappear behind her, which meant the creature was tracing something else. Somebody else? She didn’t see anybody on her way here, not since the reststop. She wrings her neck to try and look over the dunes, to find what had alerted the creature so. Surprisingly, there was something there: a grey, blobby shape agaisnt the yellow, seemingly crawling its way out the sand.
“Hah..?” As the creature returned to its chittering she began to approach, trudging through sand to grt to the something. In better view, the thing that was wriggling and writhing looked pitifully unequipped for the desert; it had no bottom legs, instead fleshy flaps for locomotivon, and its arms were much of the same. Those wouldn’t help with burrowing, and its grey hue struck out greatly against the sand: a prime snack for any predators, especially concerning its size, too. It took her a moment to connect that the beast on the sand was a baby seal, but when she did, she snapped alert. There was no way a seal could get here naturally, and there were many, terrible avenues that could explain this fact. Either there could be an undiscovered animal, one strong enough to fly its way from ocean to desert just to drop off a seal, or there was a magics wielder nearby. Looking about once more though, and once again it was only her, the creature on her shoulder, and the seal. The seal had managed to slip out of the sands at this point, and already seemed to be beaten by the heat with its small, yet heavy breaths. Pitying it, she lifted the seal and nestled it close to her, draping an arm over it to cover it in shadow. By the time she was finished arranging the seal, the creature paused, then begun to reintroduce the clicks, this time in what supposedly is the correct direction.
“Continuing on, then,” she whispered to the seal, heaving it up as she took a stride outwards, back towards the oasis.
He never thought that getting a ring stuck on his finger long ago would suddenly become such lifesaving information, but it had now. It was by lucky chance that he had managed to get his other hand free, and with it he properly scavenged for somehing to get him out of this mess. A wire eventually wandered into his rug burnt hand, twitching with pain as he eyed the other, the hand still caught in that contraption. It wrapped bands around the base of his fingers, trapping them so under the spiked press that gradually begun to break them. Whoever captured him here, the memory was foggy, but it was something called a “my attempt of a thumbscrew.” The bands had reminded him of rings, and from there, he remembered a situation from his childhood amongst the flashbacks. At one point while goofing around, one of the rings he was wearing had gotten stuck at the knuckle. At first, he tugged. Then he tugged harder. He soon burst into panicked tears, until his mother hushed him with a kiss, and brought him to the bathroom. His hand was put under cold water, then a piece of floss was used to weave around his finger, under the ring, and eventually slip it off. He used the same technique, albeit with jittery movements and many failed attempts dotted with quiet curses. Eventually though, when he got one finger slipped out from underneath the humming device, the rest came easy. From there, with one hand singed and the other lightly crushed, he begun to look for ways out of the room.
I would be anything! That is my game Red happy eyes, white chassis frame A chockfull of spikes is what I contain With catchy disguise; my goal is to aid!
My first looked weary, and asked full of woe I am far too busy, my life never slows Told him no worries, so inside he goes Then after he merely, never once rose!
Second stood short, hands at their back My last work report, it was all out of wack So in she went forth, sent closed with a whack Now going henceforth, she never would slack!
The third was a problem, wore a black suit Words were all solemn, while asking for truth My heart in the bottom, said “no need to be crude! I just get my job done,” but that sullied his mood
We Can Change Anything! is my given name No shabby lies, from handy fame The second installment with much of the same There’s many things I can change; that is the claim
There is no easy way to cheat death. Those who say they’ve gone down the hard path and achieved immortality are either ignorant, liars, or false gods that can still be felled in a single swoop. All who have attempted have died, and thus to quote the great philosophers: “The only way to cheat death is to be remembered.”
I believe I have found a middle ground between the two roads.
If all that matters to cheat death is your memory, then how would I better be remembered? Should I journal my entire life, so people could truely grasp my character? Should I work upon something revolutionary, so that my name will be synonymous with my creation? I have answered those two questions and more; I’ve created a homunculus, one with my exact physical liking and who I can part my memories onto: the main body may die, but those who carry on my life will be me in a sense.
That is what I’ve created, and for this, I shall be known.
“‘Sometimes the only way to really forget everything is to go to sleep. Only then I might be able to see you again, back in that wonderful, sweet dream.’ After he wrote that, he was found dead in Void Dream’s containment unit the ensuing morning; a suicide, if you will**.**” He states, rapping the clipboard with his pen; his tone nor posture has not faltered throughout this whole presentation, not even once. The unfortunate listeners watch with mesmerized silence and horror. “How does this incident relate to what I’ve taught? It’s to report any abnormal behavior of coworkers immediately to the coworker’s Sephirah. If perhaps Vince’s coworkers had done this, his unfortunate death could’ve been prevented. I assume this is clear?” The listeners all nod half-enthusiastically, keeping still. The presenter smiles back, pleased. “In that case, you all are free to go. This has been the 127th Training Team presentation, thank you for your time.” He bows.
Until that fateful day, I wasn’t sure when I had seen you last. The days until then had merged into a blur; the company didn’t let me of get any time off, and the lunch breaks we got were always interrupted by a warning blare. The trumpet’s noise will never leave me, but somehow, in that place, I left you. I only found about what happened to you through an offhand comment from two gossiping employees (and if you want to know, they didn’t say anything bad about you). I was so tied up in working that I just glossed over it, but that Abnormality opened my eyes.
The one that looks like a sheep passed by me that day. I must’ve been dozing out already before I met it, but I remember my weapon leaving my grip, and a slight sliver of worry.. but then, I fell asleep.
The dream that I got soon after was happy.
You were there- You, in that dress, the pink one you pointed to in that shop’s window that one time, wearing it and laughing. I was able to relax for the first time in forever, sitting with you. I wish that moment lasted longer, just the two of us, forgetting why we had to join this company. It wasn’t meant to last.
I eventually woke up from that pleasant dream, and each morning, no matter how long I shut my eyes or ignored the day from the window, I couldn’t have that dream again. The space you left had turned from a pinprick-sized gap, to a sinkhole in the matter of a waking hour. I realized you weren’t with me.
I remembered after that, the last time I saw you, you were sitting alone, resting in the lunch room. I could’ve joined you, and if I did, I could’ve kept you from what had happened to you. I could still be hanging out with you.
After that each day became worse, and I wandered through them like a visitor in my own body.
I didn’t even want to try living anymore; all I wanted was that dream again, the one with you. That’s why I’m going to visit that Abnormality and soon enough, I’ll be seeing you again. We’ll be laughing, and you’ll be in that pretty dress, and we will be sitting without a care.
Sometimes the only way to really forget everything is to go to sleep. Only then I might be able to see you again, back in that wonderful, sweet dream.
Before life even had a chance to begin, there was always Desect, the all-encompassing being who, from his corpse, everything would be borne. Before the his dismemberment however, there were no valleys or mountains: Desect was smooth and unblemished. There were also no rivers and lakes: Desect was whole and complete. There were no animals or plants either; the only thing seperate and different from Desect was the little Astran, the negative voice present in everything’s thoughts. Desect looked down upon himself, and Astran began to whisper her slick words to him, pointing out how flat he was. Desect heard this and said nothing, for he didn’t know why he should be concerned about his appearance. Desect stared up at the sky, and Astran once again began to strike him with her words, mocking that he should fill it with his tears. Desect heard this and said nothing, for he didn’t know why he should cry when he has no emotions. Desect closed his eyes to looked inward, and Astran began to mumble to him with her belittling tone, asking why he was being so stoic. Desect heard this and answered, for she had finally asked him a question. He answered that he just was, for he had no values. The frusterated Astran heard this, and in a bid to finally demoralize him, she tossed away her sly words in favor of showing him a dream.
Desect saw his blank body and imagined those all beautiful things, and with his eyes opened to the ideal compared to the ugly, wept. He would never be those things, and as the sky became dotted with his tears and in a fit of despair, he tore off his limbs. As his limbs split apart into the five continents, he died, decaying, and what was once featureless became mountains made of bone and valleys made from flesh. His blood poured into the corners and cervices of the world, creating the five oceans. In the same manner of maggots appearing upon dead flesh, various animals and plants dug their way out of his body, flourishing.
“They exist, you know.”
“What?”
“You know what I’m saying. Them, with their pale skin and tall stature, them with just not the right amount of fingers..”
“No, I get it, I-“
“..it makes you think like they’re almost like trying to mimick us.”
“..Huh?”
I forced my head up, glancing away from where I previously absorbed myself in my work, where my thick, gloved hands prodded at a piece of curious metal. My eyes met hers, and within them I saw the unfamiliar, thick gaze of someone so captivated, totally entranced by something that it teetered on the edge of obsession. An emotion that I’ve only seen once before, from some killer’s messy mugshot that appeared on TV. Subconsciously, I shrunk away from that suffocating look, tilting head back downwards to avoid her avid stare. I replied as my hands regained their motion, albeit with a slight stutter.
“So, what if they are.. What does that mean for us, then?”
“They are, and they exist. That’s how I got this piece of metal,” she stated, ignoring my question all together to point at the chunk I was messing with. I must’ve let something slip past, as while she still focused upon my face, she mentioned in a fast voice that “I could show you where I got it from. It’s not far from here. It’s practically a drice away.”
“..a drive away, you say.”
“Yes, a drive away.”
My parents always said to never allow a kidnapper to bring you to the second location, but since I’ve learned about them, from then on I decided to ignore their “well-meaning” advice. Besides, the way she said it so confidently practically forced me to believe her, because clearly she was more in the know of these aliens things than I was. After a lengthy pause, I nodded.
“Alright then, count me in.”
I shouldn’t have believed her; maybe that warning was practically my parents’ only sound advice. I thought that as I lay stuffed, cramped in that backseat with the two, puffed up bags of supplies that, of all things, should’ve at least have had a phone charger. I ran out of battery fairly early on in this ‘drive away,’ and since she had plenty of bags bursting at the seams, I figured she’d at least bring one. “No” was her answer, and now, I was out in the middle of snowy nowhere, going at a steady pace towards the mountains. I knew she planned to keep me alive from rummaging through those bags, but what else she planned I didn’t have a single clue of. Something about aliens..
“We’re here.”
“Oh, already?” I joked.
“Yes.” She stated back, clearly not laughing. As she frees herself from the seatbelt, I get to shaling and tilting myself about, slipping out from between the two packs. It took awhile, and I almost slammed my head into a carseat when I did so, but more alarming than that was the view infront of me. An UFO. In the middle of nowhere.
Zahd’s Ant (Zophotermes Susumus), formerly named the Susum Termite is a species native to Southern Asia and introduced elsewhere to all six continents.
Zahd’s Ant’s former name, Susum Termite, originated from its pillar-like colonies built upward, out of trees. The most notable attribute of its is the strength of its hives, which are always more resilient and rigid than the material used to make them. This is why its current namesake is Zahd’s Ant, from Zahd Steven’s discovery of their usage in skyscraper construction in 2063.
Their self defense tactic isn’t exactly a tactic, but a practice; they build directly upward out of trees, where predators are less likely to get them, besides birds. Since they build straight up, they’ve found a place in building the foundation for buildings, replacing rebar in terms of rigidity. This has led to their domestication.
