It was nighttime when Charles finished modding his copy of Falxguard VII: Paltea; an RPG he last played over ten years ago. He recalled beating it but forgot every main quest, side quest, faction quest, companion quest, and what other quests were inside of the game; he also wanted to be challenged as he had a slight inkling that it was an easy game; not to mention the graphical fidelity and models looked so dated, muddy and grey—so, he began modding it and after many hours, he randomly installed every mod that was compatible with each other and after many hours, his game was ready to play.
“Fuck…” Charles yawned, blinking at the bright desktop wallpaper of a bikini-clad woman wearing a soviet style gas mask, hat, and an AK-47, as he clicked on the special executable that was needed to start the hyper-modded game. “I just need one more moment and then I can play…”
Double-clicking the icon, he yawned again, the screen went black and he closed his eyes briefly and dozed
#
The air was had a sharp bite of cold as Charles flung his eyes wide and peered around him. First, he looked at the trees all around him and found he was in the middle of a grove of oaks; the grass was long, the leaves were verdant, the bark was a rich brown, the sky was bright with the dawning sun, nearby birds flittered about, chirping gleefully. Second, he felt around him, the grass blades tickling his wrists and the soil underneath damp to the touch, there was even a beetle crawling up his hand—but it was nothing he’d ever seen before, gleaming like an emerald amongst fires. Third, he looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing his black shirt, grey baggy trousers, and white socks.
“Oh, shit…” Charles mumbled as he took in a long, deep whiff of the unpolluted air that was so different from city life. “This is a weird dream…”
Frowning, he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed, opening his eyes to see that the environment hadn’t changed back to his computer in his tiny room, in a crappy apartment with neighbours that never stopped arguing. The wind blew, sending shivers up his body.
“Shit, this is some weird dream!” Charles said as he rose from the ground and stalked through the forest, his socks quickly becoming soggy as he stepped in a muddy puddle. Butterflies fluttered all around the hundreds of flowers all vibrant and full of life. From the corner of his eye, a rabbit scampered out of sight, retreating into the underbrush of thorns and brambles. The clouds above darkened t
... keep reading on reddit ➡The blinding agony from my untreated kidney stone seemed to pale in comparison..
He had his headphones in and I was masked up, so I no room for an apology other than to give a shocked raise of the eyebrows.
UPDATE: someone startled on the return tube home and ended up giving me a stroke. The universe is in balance once again.
https://preview.redd.it/mvzhpqc9riq71.png?width=851&format=png&auto=webp&s=bbc1d9ef293d511ffb46597b0af8a2cbde5ab4a0
See title.
“Do you think they’re real?” Suzie’s hushed voice asks me.
“What?” I whisper back.
“The monsters,” she says. “Do you think they’re real?”
I pause for a moment. Think of the full moon, the howling wind, the dancing trees. Of green eyes in pitch black and my parents' loud voices echoing from downstairs. But mostly I think of darkness in closets, skeletons hung from coat hangers like one would hang from a noose. Rattling bones and a tinkling laugh, somehow louder than the yelling coming from below.
I think of Big-Boned Jeremy across the street, wonder if maybe it’s his bones in the closet, imagine his shaking fists pounding against the closet door the same way they pound against other kids. I see the dark shadows dancing in Lacy’s eyes whenever she has to go home, the way her head is glued to her chin, face downcast, fingernails balled into tight fists. The way they hit Big-Boned Jeremy, as small as they are, and the way he goes down hard, crimson dripping from bruised nostrils, anger sparkling beneath blue irises. I see the ocean, Suzie by my side this time, dark and bruised and swimming with a million tiny dots, stars echoing as if they were pennies in a wishing well, Suzie’s tight grip against my hand mirroring the strength of my own, her tears drowned out only by the silence of mine. We’re dying here, I think. Dying slowly and painfully and dreadfully.
I think of the closet again, its never-ending abyss. I think of wrenching the door open, pulling it off its hinges, tearing through wood one splinter at a time. I think of the burning against my chest. The beating against my heart as if it too, wants to be torn open, exposed and vulnerable and susceptible to darkness and only darkness. I think of the anticipation drumming against my veins, the blood rushing to my head, the silent prayers on my tongue. I think of shadows in my closet, an outline of something, multiple dancing figures rattling and laughing and smiling. I think of finally peering into that closet, eyes wide with fear and excitement, fingernails digging moons into the centre of my palms. And finally, I think of the after. The disappointment, the dread, the anger. I think of the emptiness.
The closet’s empty. The wind is dead. The laughter’s silent. The shadows are gone.
And my heart, just like that ocean, filled with millions upon millions of pennies, slowly wasting away beneath the dark, gaping tide.
*I look into Suzie’s eyes. Find only soft earth and mild curiosity. Sh
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She awoke hours later in the middle of the week long heatwave, and almost collapsed when she remembered...
...her 5 month old baby boy, still strapped into his car seat, in the vehicle parked outside.
We're awake, and it sucks. I hate to think of how many more nights like this remain. It's too depressing to know this is all I can look forward to from now on. dragging my exhausted carcass around during the day just to lay there in bed until I'm too frustrated and hungry to lie there anymore (insomnia sure works up an appetite) I know I always eventually manage to sleep--even if thirty six hours have to pass first--but I can never help the little thought in the back of my mind that wonders how much longer I can keep going through this. I feel like a soldier in an endless war, but I don't know what I'm fighting for or even who the enemy is.
The lights dimmed and the doctors scrambled around me, but knowing her eyes were the last thing I’d see gave me peace.
This is a quote from my newest fic titled "Elena’s Mounting Stress and the Looming Invasion of Avalor" which has Adora and Catra as secondary characters. It has, a new transformation from Adora, which is Elena of Avalor-themed (since the story is set in Avalor), Adora encouraging over and over, her new friend, Elena, and Catra being jealous of other lesbians. So there is some nice Catradora themes. If they had been main characters in this story, I would have focused on them more, but it was hard as I wanted to focus a lot on Elena and Naomi. That's the challenge of crossovers, people. Anyway, I thought you would all be interested and I'll try to incorporate Adora and Catra more in the next part of this story, for sure.
