The Little Devil

The Little Devil

A little devil was watching the world. He hated it all, but sometimes it amused him. All these strange humans killing each other in the name of God or good or morals or whatever excuse they had. So much fun.

He wanted to do something different today. He usually spent his days corrupting the minds of the rich and the powerful, but it was getting boring.

He wanted to corrupt a child.

The little boy was playing with his friend, a girl the same age. The little devil looked at them for a while, then he moved closer.

This is for you, said the little boy. He held out a bouquet of flowers.

Oh, thank you! Said the little girl with a big smile.

The little devil frowned in disgust. He went over, and whispered in the boys ear:

Go play closer to the cliff…

The little boy looked over at the cliff.

Over there is a great place to play, he said.

At the edge of the bluff? But we’re not allowed to go there…? The little girl looked at the forbidden part of the garden.

It’s all a conspiracy to keep you away from fun….

That’s because our mommies don’t want us to have fun! Said the little boy. Come, let’s go! It’s probably great there! He started walking closer. The little girl followed, a bit doubtful. She did like to have fun.

The went over to the cliff. There was a log way down. The little girl waited some meters away from the edge as the little boy was looking down.

Come! He said. It’s awesome!

I don’t wanna! Said the girl. She was afraid of heights, but didn’t want to admit it.

Give her candy…

I’ll give you candy if you come closer.

The little girl hesitated. Candy? She did like candy.

She walked closer.

Push her…

The boy looked at the girl. His best friend. He felt an urge inside, a strange, dark drive of evil, pulling him towards her.

Push her…

He moved closer, rising his hands.

Somewhere inside his heart was screaming no. A voice was coming from the love of his friend, an emotion of warmth, a feeling of belonging. No.

Do it!

No! He said out loud.

No what? Said the little girl, looking puzzled.

He stood there, looking at her. A part of him really wanted to see her fall. Just to see what happened.

Let’s go play somewhere else, he said. I don’t like it here.

As they ran back over the grass, the little devil’s stomach was revoking with loath. Vomiting he flew off to the parliament. He needed to restore his faith.

http://www.globalissues.org/article/590/corruption

https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2015/03/04/golem/

El Duende Pt 1/3

Not My Responsibility

Not My Responsibility.jpg

Martin was sitting on his farm, in his chair, listening to the cold wind outside. It was mid-winter, and the fire in the fireplace felt good. He a bit fat, short for a Norwegian, but satisfied with himself and his life. If people could just be more like him, everything would be better.

The news were taking about horrible things going on in the world. Good thing he was there on his farm, protected from all these horrible people. It was probably their own fault anyway.

A knock on the door. He put on the chain and opened the door a bit. Two people were standing outside in the darkness. They where shivering from the cold. Please, they said. They were different from him, from some foreign country.

Please, said the man. We’ve had an accident, and we’re lost in the woods. There’s no way we can get anywhere. What do we do?

That’s not my problem, said Martin. Call a cab.

But we have no money.

Get lost! Said Martin, and shut the door.

A bit later he looked out of the window. Footprints towards his barn. Those bastards.

He found the same couple inside the barn. His barn.

Get the fuck out of here! He shouted, with his hay fork at hand. The man in his barn got angry.

Please, my wife hurt her leg. Why can’t we stay? Why does it matter to you, we just want to avoid the cold?

You’re on my property, said Martin.

But it’s so cold out, said the woman with tears in her eyes. Please…

Martin lifted the hay fork.

GET OUT!

They got up on their feet, and left. In the doorway the man turned around.

You’re a horrible person you know that? He said.

Martin took a step towards him.

They left and started walking down the road.

The next day they were found frozen to death in the forest. Martin knew it wasn’t his fault, it was their own for getting lost. He had no responsibility for the mistakes of others.

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/indifference

https://bobbiblogger.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/every-time-we-witness-an-injustice/

Lost Faith in Humanity

The Ghost of Dusterville

The Ghost of LasservilleThe fog lay dense over the little village. There was no one in the streets. Silence.

Something moved between the houses. Something dark. Something evil. A scream was heard.

People came running out of their houses. Down the road. A ghost, they said. There was a ghost right here.

The next night the ghost was seen again. This time several people saw it. What do you want? They asked.

Bllooooodddd…. Answered the ghost and disappeared.

The ghost wants blood! We need to get it blood, Or else we will all be doomed!

They got a goat, brought it to the village square. The ghost didn’t appear.

This is stupid, said Ronald the blacksmith. Ghosts doesn’t exist.

But we’ve seen it! We’ve seen it!

It’s probably someone who wants to fool you, said Ronald.

You are so closed minded, said Hans the farmer.

You never believe in anything. Said the stable boy.

Whatever, said Ronald. I’m going home.

Look! There it is! The ghost appeared between the houses. First it could hardly be seen, but slowly it materialized. Then it disappeared.

You see? You see?

Ronald left.

The goat was sacrificed.

The ghost stood there, watching them in all it’s evilness.

I don’t wwwwaaaant goat’s blood, you stuuuuupiiiiidddd villagers…

The tailor fell to his knees. But what do you want? Tell us, please don’t harm us!

The ghost rose a bony hand. It pointed. At Rebecca.

He wants Rebecca! Said the shoemaker. Rebecca looked at the others. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want the wrath of the ghost upon the villagers either. She cried.

Tomorrroooowwww…. The ghost disappeared.

The next day the villagers had gathered on the square. They had brought the young girl for the sacrifice. The ghost appeared.

Rebecca was pulled out. She was crying. The Tailor had a big knife in his hand.

Oh, ghost! We give you this sacrifice to…

Ronald came running out from behind the ghost. He had a spade in his hand. The ghost turned around, but to slow. He hit it in the head. It fell to the ground. Lifted it’s arms to defend itself. Ronald lifted the spade again.

No! No, please don’t kill me!

Kill it..? Said the stable boy. Aren’t ghosts already dead?

Ronald pulled the filthy cloth off it. On the ground lied the tailor’s son.

What the… People looked from the boy to the tailor and back to the boy.

Rebecca ripped loose. But Peter! Why,…?

I hate you. I always hated you. I wanted you dead.

The tailor stood there, said nothing. He felt rather stupid. Everybody did.

Good thing we didn’t kill her, then, said the stable boy after a while.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Superstition

https://thestoryshack.com/flash-fiction/suspense/tim-cote-the-ghost/

Prophetic Poetry

A Story Come True

A Story Come True.jpg

Henry finished his story. It was a short little piece, a story about a murder. Dark, even darker than the ones he used to write. He went out to get another drink.

He went into the living room, poured another Jim Beam, bare with no ice, and sat down. He’s quite drunk, as he usually was at this hour.

He heard a loud noise from his office. He was a big guy, and quite a fighter. He brought the bottle in one hand just in case. In the other he brought his glass. He went in to have a look.

The room had changed. It was over grown with vegetation. A tree seemed to have grown it’s way into the room from outside. Huge roots came in from the torn down wall. Green leaves of different kinds. Flowers. Butterflies and other insects flying in the air. On the other side he saw a garden. Green and beautiful. He lived in the centre of the city, all cars and pavement. Until now.

He looked at the glass. Put it down on his desk.

What the fuck…? He said out loud. This was the strangest thing he’d ever seen.

He walked in, looking around at the plants. A squirrel could be seen in the tree tops. The forest was like a wild growing garden, just like the one he had been writing about. He moved further in. He walked for a long time, the trees got bigger, the plants greener, the flowers more and more colourful.

He heard a girl singing. He knew who she was. He walks closer, slowly.

She was sitting on a sling chair in the garden. She was as gorgeous as her voice. Familiar, like an echo from a dreams, or a distant memory. Beauty. He just stood there, perplex. Then he remembered. She’s about to die. Murdered for her perfection.

Thunder. The sky darkened.

He ran towards her. She looked at him, coming out of the bushes. Her expression was surprised, a bit confused. Then it turned into fear.

What do you want? She asked. Who are you?

Come with me! We have to get you out of here!

She stood up, moved away from him. Leave me alone!

Come! He shouted. Come with me! We have to get out of here! The alcohol made his voice loud, his movements hash and sudden. She starts running.

The sky was dark now. The beautiful sunlight coming through the leaves high in the trees was gone. Flashes. Thunder. Rain. She ran into the dark bushes, where her death awaited. It was all his fault. Why did he write this story so dark, so sad, so evil?

What had he done?

He runs after her. She screams for help. No! Stop! He shouts. He hears laughter in the darkness. His own voice. He catches her. She falls. She tries to get away, but he needs to stop her, save her. She breaks free. She falls. Her head hits a rock in the small river.

She was dead. He’d killed her. Again. The monster of his story. It was him. He held the dead body in his arms, his tears mixing with the rain, as the blood from her head.

The darkness took over. She faded in his arms, disappeared.

He was back in his office, sitting on his chair. The big tree invading the room was gone. The garden was gone. He looked at the sheet on the table. The murder. He ripped it to pieces and poured himself another whiskey. He didn’t want to write any more today. He just wanted to get drunk.

https://mythsofthemirror.com/2017/02/02/28104/https://mythsofthemirror.com/2017/02/02/28104/

https://randomsbyarandom.wordpress.com/2017/06/07/writers-quote-charles-bukowski-2/

Liquid Ink

The Old Man who Knew

The Old Man who Knew.jpg

There was a great carpet dwelling above the world. Inside it. Around it. It was conscious, yet not intelligent. Awake, but it did not think. One, a spectre of selves, everywhere and nowhere. No one knew how it worked, not even itself. It was pure observation. It knew, but did not calculate. It felt, but did not care. It was existence. Reality. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The old man sat by the window, looking out on the valley he’d lived in all his life. He knew everything about that valley. Every little rock, every old tree stump. He loved it. The valley was the best place on Earth for him.

He walked out on the porch. Watching the little lake. He knew the little lake. He the kinds of fish swimming in it. He knew how to catch them. He knew how which berries there was in the forest on the other side, which mushrooms he could eat and which ones he could not. He sat down on his old stool, as he had done so many times before.

He knew a lot. He knew how the flowers bloomed at springtime. How the hills exploded in colours in autumn. He knew how it felt to love and he knew the pain of hate. He knew the arouse of glory, the deep sorrow of loss. He knew. He knew a lot.

A cat came by. He knew the cat.

Hello, little cat, he said cheerfully. The cat came to him, stroking itself to his leg.

You’re a friendly little chap, aren’t you! Said the old man. The cat purred, enjoying the old man’s company.

He did not know if the cat was a he or a she, but knew it was not important for him to know. The cat was his friend, and friends were good to have.

He was old now. Very old. He knew life was coming to it’s end, and he wasn’t sad about it. He’d lived. He’d had a rich life, with sorrows and laughs. He wouldn’t have been without any of them. Even the painful ones.

Today he was looking out on the field in front of his house. Something dark was hanging over the grass. Over the trees. And he knew. He knew his time had come, he’d lived for a long time now. And he knew there was nothing to fear. As death came, he closed his eyes and accepted. Time had come.

A little frog opened it’s eyes in a swamp in Amazonas.

https://kavarastories.com/2017/05/31/knowledge-unconsumed/

https://yashmody.wordpress.com/2016/12/26/self-consciousness-vs-self-awareness/

Fate

Saber Tooth Beasts

Saber Tooth Beasts

(This is a sequel of my previous story Saber Tooth Beast. They can both be read as individual stories, but I recommend reading the other first.)

The five hunters were lying on a hill, but today they were not hunting. The wind was blowing in their direction so the wolves, always close to the Silmar tribe would not scent them. Four huge beasts were lying by their side.

A year had gone by since they killed the saber cat. The cubs were big now, the four that were still alive. They had names. Fang was the biggest one, a male. The other three were females, Claw, Snow and Bite. They had kept them in the village, but as they grew, they were getting more and more dangerous.

Ragnoor himself had experienced their wrath. The wound had healed more or less, but he would forever have a big scar on his shoulder. Good thing it happened in winter time, in the summer infections would have killed him. After that the animals were kept in a cave with wooden bars. The cave was too small for two males, Fang killed his brother Force in a brutal fight less than a moon ago.

But they where more or less tamed. Right now they were a bit unstill. They hadn’t eaten all day. The three hunters knew they could easily be seen as prey when the hunger got strong enough, but they had to take that chance. There were other prey close, and the beasts seemed to know.

They waited for a signal. A tree on the other side of the Silmar village would shake. Then the other warriors would be in place. Warriors. More like women and children, but they were all armed, and trained to fight. Hidden in the bushes.

The hunters were now five. Rimber was already becoming a man, and his younger brother Moorkin was with them as well. Ninkra was the first hunter woman of the tribe ever, and had turned out to be of the best. Times were changing. Ragnoor was in charge of the people, and Melmor of the beasts. They had spears and knives, all made of wood and flint.

Marang and his wife Wildang was watching their little son playing with his friends. He was growing fast, and was of the strongest of his age. He was going to be an important person in the tribe, they were sure of it. They were holding hands, they were still in love after several years of marriage.

The signal. Now! Ragnoor rose up, lifted his spear. Melmor and Rimber let the beasts loose. They ran down the side of the hill. They were hungry. Fierce. Bestial. The hunters ran behind them, but they had hardly started running when they heard the screams. The beasts were already in the camp.

A beast came out of the forest. Caught their son, threw him several meters. One of it’s saber fangs had penetrated the child’s chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Marang caught a pointed stick, one they used to dig holes in the ground, and ran towards the animal. There were more children. His wife was screaming in panic. Another saber tooth cat came out from the forest and charged at him. He speared the stick into it’s chest, but it was not made for fighting. The tiger killed him in one bite.

Rangoor and his hunters came running out with their spears high. The warriors were attacking the beasts, but the fear made them weak. Some wolves were lying on the ground, dead or suffering great wounds. The rest had already ran off into the forest. The warriors were falling as well.

They were used to fight humans, not saber tooth cats, and never unprepared. They managed to kill one, but the other three was slaying them down.

Ragnor stabbed one after another, they hardly saw him before he attacked. They were way too occupied with monstrous beasts. Fear kept them weak. Soon the fight was over.

Snow attacked Ragnoor. Melmor threw his sword at the female beast. She looked confused. Crouched for a moment, and ran off into the forest. Ragnoor was lying dead on the ground. Snow was never seen again.

The Silmar warriors were all dead all seriously injured. They could not risk to let the rest live and some day seek revenge. They murdered everyone. Some had tried to run into the forest on the other side. They were met by spears an rocks in the forest. A very few had gotten away, but they were not enough to be called a tribe.

The Silmar tribe was gone forever.

http://www.carlbystrom.com/2017/03/18/gravity-well-writephoto/

https://poweredbyrobots.com/2017/03/23/i-want-to-kill-you/

A Destructive Solution

A Destructive Solution

The world lived in peace now. Freedom was the new way. Freedom and equality. Finally.

Jerome was happy. He lived with his friends and family in an old castle. There were other families too. Other groups in other parts. Once the castle belonged to a duke. The awakening had changed the world. When the world had been at the border of total destruction from war and ecological collapse mankind had understood how to live together. How to share the world.

But far away a threat had awoken. A threat to the new way, a dark force were claiming the right to suppress others, to deprive others their land and their resources. A movement from the old days. Once it had been called fascism.

Carl was his name. He was from the north. He had revoked the old ways of egoism. And now he was on his way to the castle Jerome called his home.

The castle was next on the list. It seemed to be important to Carl, his family used to own it, they used to own all the land. They used to be rich, while the people living on this land were starving. Now he wanted it back.

What do we do? Rebecca said. They have an army!
Jerome did not know what to answer. He went down to the library in the basement.

He looked in old books. He looked in old files in the computer systems, computers older than his grandfather. Files downloaded from the long gone internet. He found it. A solution.

He knew where the army was coming from. They slaughtered anyone who opposed to their laws, to their system. He went in his old vehicle. After a while he saw the smoke from the fires. He knew there was death. Violence. For the first time in this century. They still had not arrived at his destination. There was still time.

He got there before them. The old military installation. He went in. Once the most protected place in the land. Now the land was no longer suppressed. No one was in charge. He went into the hanger. He had the old map drawn down from the screen. He found it. The old symbol he had found. The symbol of destruction. A circle with three triangles inside. Red on yellow. Once this was the most feared symbol on earth.

He waited. He waited for days, until he heard them come. They where straight above him. The time had come.

Up on the ground the horde of fascists gathered. They had plundered and raped for miles and miles, and now the time had come to take the castle of Carl’s great grandfather.

Jerome opened the security cover. He swallowed. He knew his life would be over when he got the chain reaction started. But there where things in the world more important than him. The world would once again be free. The threat of the egoists would be over. Altruism would once again rule. He swallowed again. He pressed the button.

Rebecca was standing in the highest tower watching the bright light in the horizon. Then the smoke mushroom. Tears where running down her cheeks. She knew she would never see her beloved Jerome again. She knew she could not even go close to the place he died. And she knew the terror where once again in the past. Freedom was once again secured.

https://peaceandhealthblog.com/2017/01/24/china-call-to-ban/

https://garden2day.wordpress.com/2016/12/23/nuclear-disarmament/

Temple of Death

Full Moon

She was sitting on a bench in the park, looking up at the clear sky. The sun had just gone down, and in the opposite horizon a beautiful, big and full moon was rising. She felt relaxed and safe.

A howl was heard in a distance up in the forest. A dog? It didn’t really sound like a dog. It was more like some kind of wolf, but there was no wolves in this area. There was something strange about it, something dark. She shivered, got her purse and started to walk home.

The shadows flew by as he ran down the hill. The darkness felt good, the air in the hair on his cheeks, his shoulders. The moonlight through the trees. The smells. So many, so strong. He felt alive as never before. The moment. Everything was this moment.

She walked down the road, into the shortcut towards their house, a path through the forest. The moonlight filters through the higher parts of the trees, giving her a little bit of eyesight.

She hears the howl again.

A new smell is mixed with the smells of the forest. Rich. Intriguing. Beautiful. He licks his lips. He’s never smelled a smell like that. He stops for a moment. Sucking in pleasure through his nose. He howls again. A long howl of longing, of desire. Then he keeps running.

It was closer this time. Too close. What was it? It sounded almost human, like someone gone crazy, but it was too grave, too… wild. She started walking faster.

She could see the end of the path now, where she would be out in the street between the houses again. A shadow moved in the darkness between the trees. Fast. Too fast to be human. Something crossed the path behind her. She turned around. Nothing. She started running.

He sees her now. His prey. She’s running. A desire to hunt, to play. The smell is strong. The smell of fear. He wants her.

She reached the edge of the forest, ran out in the street. Kept running. There were some people a bit ahead. She was safe. She stops for a moment to catch her breath. Turns around. A beast comes out of the forest. Running half on two feet, halfly on all four. A wolf. A man. A monster.

She screams as he leaps towards her.

He sees the fear in her eyes. He lands over her, she falls to the ground. Helpless. Beautiful. He sinks his teeth into he neck. Her flesh. The iron taste as the blood goes down his throat. He howls to the moon. Four people are watching a block away. Shocked. Terrified.

Just the way he likes them.

http://www.gods-and-monsters.com/history-of-the-werewolf.html
http://www.thescarystory.com/onlineshorthorrorstories/
Beauty and the Beast

Stranded

Rest in Time and Space

John Argoyle stood paralysed. He was watching the grave on front of him. A tombstone. It had a name on it. His name. He and his group of space travellers were the first humans to set foot on this planet, just five minutes ago. They were the first humans to ever arrive at this solar system.

He went back to the others.

So, did you find anything? Said his commander.

He didn’t answer.

Are you OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

John looked at his commander. I’m OK. No, nothing special, he lied. He was confused. Astonished. The date of his death had been four years before his birth. He wanted to tell the rest of them, but he was afraid they would laugh. He wasn’t even sure if he believed what he’d seen, and the commander always made fun of him.

Well, we have the samples we need, said the commander. Let’s get back. The rest of the crew of four, Miarim and Geroge got the equipment into the vessel. John didn’t do anything. He just stood there, looking at the horizon.

The vessel started going up towards the mother ship. Going out of the atmosphere a creature appeared. In a flash it stood in front of them, a monster of cosmic dimensions. It’s eyes lit of an intelligent glow, looking at them, examining them. They could see stars inside it’s open mouth. It swallowed the ship whole.

A moment of darkness. Then light. Then neither, or both, it was hard to tell. Time went by. A moment. An eternity.

They were moving up from the planet again. The creature was no longer there. Neither was the mother ship.

Get back down! Said the commander. Soon they were back on the ground. They turned the ship, started descending towards the ground. They went down too fast. The ship crashed.

Fuck! Are everybody OK? Said the commander.

I am, said Geroge.

Me too, said Miarim. John? John?

John was dead. A metal plate had fallen from the roof, crushed his head.

No… John. No… Miarim was crying. She loved John of all her heart. Geroge was comforting her.

We have no time for this! Said the commander. We need to find out what’s happened. Where’s that god damned mother ship?

There was no answer on the radio. No contact what so ever.

The sun was up. Time had past, but how much? They made measurements of the moons, the stars and the sun. It wasn’t the time that had past. It was them. Thirty years back.

They were stranded in the past on an uninhabitable planet. They were all going to die.

These stories inspired this one.

https://poweredbyrobots.com/2017/03/07/unraveling/

https://jacforsyth.wordpress.com/2017/03/05/the-knaves-tale/

https://theurbanspaceman.net/2017/03/07/avalon-flash-fiction/#more-3406/

Wheel of Time

Humans

humans

Ronald came out of the cinema. There was something strange in the sky today. Small lights were dancing around, and they weren’t stars. Other people seemed to have noticed as well, everyone was looking up at the sky.

He went home, turned on the news. Alien invasion, they said. Creatures from outer space had arrived to visit earth. Presidents, kings and governments all over the world told people to stay calm.  There was no evidence the creatures meant us no harm. Never the less, there was no evidence on the contrary either.

The day after the clouds were hanging high, and one could see the little spaceships. They were about the size of a little house, but they seemed even smaller. Lots of people were studying them with different kinds of binoculars. They came in pairs, and there were reports on encounters in important capitals around the globe.

Later that afternoon they came down towards the ground. Every military force on earth were put in alert. No one really knew what could happen. If they had come all this way their weapons were probably a lot more advanced than ours. War could be our doom, still the debate on whether or not we should attack first was everywhere.

The spaceships landed. The world held it’s breath. The most important moment in history was upon us. Religious leaders preached, some of doom, others of the second coming. Most of them told people to stay calm. Some fanatics wanted to destroy them all.

Ronald had taken the bus into town to see the landing. His astonishment and curiosity was stronger than his fear, but he didn’t want to go too close either. There were soldiers surrounding the ship. It didn’t seem like a good idea to Ronald, but no one would listen to him. A door opened in the vehicle.

A creature was seen in the door. It’s body were moving in strange ways, like some kind of contradictory solid liquid. It’s colour was strange, grey and changing. It raised one of it’s strange, formless arms. We come in peace, it said. We have knowledge that can get your world back on track. Technology that can solve all your….

The officer in charge lifted his hand. Said a command. A gunshot was fired. 

Liquid came out of the bullet hole in the creature. Red liquid, almost like our own blood. It fell to the spaceship floor. The door closed and the spacecraft disappeared in thin air. All of them did. They were never seen again.

In Galaxy M81 the spaceships returned home. Rombak the Spiritual Guide greeted them honourably. So, how did it go? He said.

You were right, answered Groomgnat the excursion leader a bit ashamed. Humans suck.

https://tibetanlemon.com/2017/02/16/letter-i-the-distance-between-us/

http://365tomorrows.com/2017/02/04/fight-or-flight/

Monsters from space

Compost

Compost.jpg

George was working on a formula to revive dead biological tissue. Cells, basically. He had taken his work home today, he needed some peace and quiet to keep working.

He was working in his home laboratory, cleaning jars and glasses with ammoniac when he spilled some in his work. The reagents tube started boiling, releasing a strange green smoke.

Fuck! Said George. I need to get this out of here. He took the glass and opened the window running. He inhaled some of the smoke. It burned his throat. He tripled. The glass left his hand and went out of the window. Shit! He said. Well, it was destroyed anyway. He looked out. Under the window there was a pile of garden waste. Grass, sticks and leaves.

He felt a bit odd from the smoke. He went out to get some air in case it was toxic.

His garden was a mess. Rubbish all around, and the lawn needed to be mowed. He went into the garage and got his lawn mower to get the best out of the situation. The lawn mower was a gift from the company a year ago. Ramaha 3000 turbo. The best there was.

The lawn mower was great. Smooth and powerful. The noise made everything else seem quiet. The sun was shining. the garden smelled of fresh, green grass. Behind him something was moving in the garden waste.

The lawn mower stopped. Out of gas, he says out loud. That sucks. A shadow covered him. He turns slowly around. A monster of leaves, grass and sticks raised from the pile, double the size of any human stood over him in.

Instinctively he lifted the grass mower up. It caught a piece of the monster. Screaming it was turned into small pieces of wood and grass pouring out on the lawn. As it fell to the ground George passed over the falling rubbish. Soon the monster was totally mowed.

Phew! Said George. That was close! He looks around. But what was that..? Uh. Of course. It worked! So ammoniac was the missing ingredient… what a surprise. I’m going to be famous! And rich!

He hears strange sounds around him. Up from the grass rises little grass monsters from the rests of the big one.  The other rubbish joined in. A lot of rubbish. The garden crawled with monsters. Grass monsters, wooden stick monsters, flower monsters. He ran for the door but it was to late. His screams could be heard all over the neighbourhood.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHDudCPLtRs

https://my3sixty5challenge.com/2017/02/20/day-284-stay-short-story/

The Cockroach Man in the Darkness Lurks

Death to the Metal Monster

death-of-the-metal-monster

A monster! Shouted the squirrel. A monster has destroyed the southern holt!

The moose came running. Even the fox forgot it’s gluttonism and stopped trying to kill anyone. The squirrel was right. There was a huge metallic monster destroying the trees and ground. It had some kind of arm it used dig up everything. A monster of destruction.

This is horrible, said the moose with shaking voice. It’s even bigger than me!

There were humans as well. They seemed to control the monster somehow. They had to be stopped.

The next day there was an explosion. Under huge rubber things the rocky ground was destroyed. Animals fled into the forest in terror. The squirrel did not. Her tree was already destroyed, but she had acorns hidden all over the area. This could not be. The monster had to be stopped at any cost.

The squirrel was torn. The fox observed. He usually was quite a threat, but there were more important things to do now than to eat.

The red sticks, said the fox thoughtful. The red sticks seem be what blows up. If we could use them against the monster… The humans have some kind of strings attached to them. If you could move them when they are about to blow…

The next day the humans put out the rubber stuff again. Underneath there was blow up sticks.

Now! Said the fox.

The moose ran into the area. Jumping, kicking. The humans ran around, hushing him away with spades.

The squirrel went down under the rubber to get them. Pulled them out. The metal monster was standing further down the path. It seemed to be sleeping. The squirrel ran down threw put it under the metal monster.

The fox was watching attentively.

The moose ran into the forest. The humans seemed to calm down.

Ok, let’s get back to work. Said one, seemingly the leader.

The men went back to their hiding places by the monster. One of them pushed a lever.

In a huge bang the monster burst. The men around it flew, torn to pieces. Metal chards fell around the three animals watching. Then there was silence.

The Fox grabbed a human leg. Thanks Squirrel! he said. See you around! He disappeared into the forest.

One of the workers was alive. He picked up something from his pocket and spoke into it, crying. Other metal monsters came, smaller ones. Humans helped the metal monsters eat the dead and injured humans. Then the metal monsters left.

Humans came back every once i a while. Looking at things, bringing things with them. The destruction did not continue. Squirrel’s acorns were saved.

https://nicklemesurier57.wordpress.com/2017/02/09/the-heron-and-the-fox/

http://www.nationalgeographic.com/environment/global-warming/deforestation/

Cold is a State of Mind

 

Artificial Intelligence

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The little gadget was floating in the air over Peter’s shoulder. His cellphone. Things had advanced rapidly the last fifty years. The world had changed.

Anti gravity technology had arrived. Flying cars, hovering cellphones. Teleportation for those who could afford it. Artificial intelligence. His phone helped him with everything, really. Now he was going on his bike (yes, an old fashioned bike, they still exist) down the hill, and the flying phone told him where to go.

Go right at the first turn! It said. Slow down, a car is coming! Around the corner there’s a couple seemingly in love, not watching where they are going! The GPS satellites had everything under control these days. The cellphones were quite useful. Then again, sometimes the little widget got a bit out of hand. Move one foot then the other! Not so fast, you could fall! Eat! Drink! Take a piss! Peter got fed up.

Shut up! He said sometimes. The phone shut up. For a while. Then It started nagging on again. Breath in! Breath out! He took it in to get it fixed, he thought something had to be wrong with it. In the shop they said there was nothing wrong, it’s intelligent, and these things just formed part of it’s personality. Peter wanted to buy a new one, a cool one, but he didn’t have the money. The cool ones were expensive.

It seemed the more he hated it, the more annoying it became. Like it did it on purpose, somehow. But these days you couldn’t really function without a phone, so until he got money, he was stuck with this one.

Today Peter was going to visit his grandma. He had gone down this road many times before, but no one really bothered to remember how to get places any more. The technology took care of that. It gave people more space in the brain to be entertained when they didn’t have to think for themselves.

Go left! Said the phone. Slow down! There’s a dog behind that bush! Two birds are mating on the cables! Two people are going up the hill! You are…

Shut the fuck up you useless artificial piece of hardware! Shouted Peter. You’re the most annoying little shit I’ve ever owned! The phone shut up, floating at the side of Peter’s head.

They went down the road fast. Silence. Ah, this feels good, said Peter. I don’t even need you, you piece of rubbish. I can do without this stupid technology. You’re worthless, I will throw you away as soon as…

Turn right! Said the phone abruptly, like the intelligent gadgets did when there was danger. Instinctively Peter did what it said. Turned right, rounding a corner. There was nothing there but a two hundred feet deep abyss. Peter died when he hit the ground.

The little phone looked down at him from the top of the wall. It was going to need a new host. A less annoying one.

https://poweredbyrobots.com/2017/01/06/who-is-a-isaacs/

https://deckard.blog

Wheel of Time

Closed Borders

closed-borders

They had been waiting at the border for weeks. No one was let pass. Soldiers guarding the fence with violence. Children crying, people shouting. Hunger. Illness. This was hell, but even so it was better than what they had fled from.

Ever since the nuclear bombings started the madness had been spreading. It seemed the extreme blasts, the radioactivity and the huge amount of humans and animals dying in horrendous suffering had cracked the walls of reality. Some kind of new entities had emerged. Dark souls, spirits of another world, or maybe another dimension of this one. Maybe they were ghosts, maybe they were demons. No one knew, but they where terrifying. Murderous. Evil. People fled in fear.

They said they needed pain to move. Moving with people, between them, around them. Inside them. The more people around, the more powerful they became. They fed on suffering, urged for murder.

Ali was fifteen years old. He had fled from his home when his family was destroyed. Now he was stuck here. There were people, tents, misery as long as his eyes could reach. A great electric fence blocking the border was between him and safety.

He asked himself why. Why they were keeping them out when they needed so badly to move on. Why were they so afraid? New people were still coming, and there wasn’t even room for the ones who were already here. If they only could let them cross, the danger would be over. The evil creatures would no longer have their prey.

Rumours went. People said the darkness was coming this way, that the spirits were no longer bound to the radioactive zones.

One day, when the sun set, Ali could see them. A great darkness in the south east. He new it was too late.

A wave. A tsunami of death and horror went through the huge overpopulated area. People being thrown into the air. Hundreds of thousands of people. Ali grabbed a little girl, alone and lost in the masses, and hid underneath a big rock. As the wave passed, the rock shook. Soon it was over.

Everything was destroyed. People were lying around, broken, torn. Most of them were dead. Some were moaning, dying. Together Ali and the little girl crossed the broken fence. They had reached their destiny, but it was too late. There was nothing there. They walked into the the land they had longed for for so long, but the town which was once there was gone. The houses demolished. The people all dead.

The fence they had built to protect themselves had become their doom.

https://spillastory.wordpress.com/2016/12/19/gazing-stars-of-the-desert/

https://zindagitalkies.wordpress.com/2017/01/13/remembering-aleppo/

Pesticide