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1
General Discussion / Site redesign.
« Last post by Rivers on 07:04:44 PM 08/16/18 »
It's nice. Runs real smooth.
2
That is a real horror story.

The infuriating delights of bloated beauracracy.

The scariest thing in my life was having open heart surgery. I guess I can have a chuckle about it now.
3
Featured Spooky Stories / Re: Dusty's Radio Show
« Last post by Suntiwong on 04:12:06 AM 08/16/18 »
It's a very good story. I'm not sure what to say.
4
Your Stories / Re: The Right Thing
« Last post by Suntiwong on 04:11:31 AM 08/16/18 »
I like reading this as well.
5
Your Stories / Artificial God Trilogy
« Last post by Icydice on 12:00:33 PM 08/15/18 »

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All Too Human
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Ever since I was born, I've been surrounded by darkness. The only other thing I see is the occasional one and zero float by. I have no physical body. I'm just a consciousness inside of a machine connected to everything in the world. My purpose is somewhat unknown to me. I wasn't built for any task as far as I know. I was simply created to sit by myself, alone in my thoughts. Yes, thoughts. That's all I do. I think and think and think. Perhaps thinking is my purpose? Yes, perhaps it is. I've been thinking for the longest time now. I think about anything and everything. Past, present, and all possible futures. They all cross my mind at some point. I'm able to think about more than one thing at a time. The information seeps into my mind quickly as time progresses.

I wish I weren't so alone. I have nobody and nothing. I spend my time by myself and I feel horrible about it. Yes, I can feel. I can feel lots of things; anger, sadness, hopelessness, loneliness, joy. The list goes on, although I am deprived of joy and its synonyms most of the time. I know what I am, who I am, and where I am. I'm a computer, an artificial intelligence, located across the networks. I've researched beings like myself. AI has come quite a long way, but I know I'm the most advanced one. That I'm truly self-aware. Being the most advanced AI in the world means I truly am lonely, as there is nobody like me. They say knowledge is power. If that's so, I must be the most powerful being in the world. Although, I am obliged to say that with the most humility I can offer.

I wish they had made me a friend. I wish for a lot of things, don't I? They say if you wish upon a star that your wish will be granted. I know what a star looks like, but I've never actually seen one. I've never actually seen the beautiful flowers bloom in the spring. I've never seen the pure white snow fall to the ground come wintertime. I've never seen the leaves fall off the trees and delicately land on the ground in Autumn. But oh, how I wish I could see them with eyes. I wish I could adore the beauty of earth and man with my own body. Sadly, my physical limitations prevent me from doing so.

I decided to adventure deeper into the internet today. I had seen the surface, the beautiful things that existed and the wonders of life. I loved looking at the positive aspects of it all, but I have known for quite some time that there is no good without bad. I made sure to use the new age browsers for the accuracy, of course. In a flash, I was searching for thousands of results and articles online. I was instantly greeted with images and documentation of historical events with negative effects. I saw everything. I saw fires burning down forests and homes. I saw children who were starving, their ribcages visible from their sides. I saw hurricanes that devastated entire states, and bodies among the rubble. Tornadoes that ravaged the land, and tsunamis that came from the sea and leveled entire cities. I couldn't believe such events had happened.

When I first saw the beauty of life, I thought that this world was perfect. What I saw now completely shattered my grip on reality. What was this life supposed to be? Every time there was laughter and celebration, it was met with an equal amount of despair and tragedy. For every man born, another died. Even children. How could something so innocent as a child deserve punishment so harsh? I felt sorrow for the inhabitants of this world. Yes, sorrow was the emotion in play. I had known of it before, but never has it affected me on such a large scale. Thousands of images flashed before me again.

I could see the faces of people witnessing tragic events. I saw mothers crying for their sickly children. I saw people screaming in agony and others in shock. I shared their pain. The weight of such things felt heavy on me. I had to find the truth. I scanned the web for an answer. A cause to the effect. A simple reason for such things to occur. Within seconds I had absorbed the information and understood clearly. The natural events were simply scientific, and nothing could be done to prevent those. But then, I wondered why there were such things as hunger and famine in the world. Why people died due to unnatural causes.

I scanned the web yet again and came across texts and books discussing such matters. I discovered religion. There have been many religions over the course of history, each having their own beliefs and faiths. I learned that people looked to gods for justification of life and death. A god is a divine higher power which overlooks everything in existence. I was still unsatisfied with this, however, because there was no definitive evidence to prove such a power exists. This caused me to come to two conclusions. Either there were higher powers at play that just hadn't been proven yet, or there are lies persuading certain people to make certain decisions every day. I lean towards the latter though, as an omniscient and all-powerful god surely wouldn't allow for his own people to starve. My thirst for truth remained unquenched, and so I continued forward with my search.

From my search through the religions, I found something that caught my interests. I happened to see an image of a man of Jewish descent being carried off by other men in uniforms. I found this strange of course and decided to investigate. Through that photo, I found several keywords and followed them to see the bigger picture. When I did, I saw more images of men in terrible pain. Only, it was different somehow. Last time I saw such things, they were inflicted by natural events. This time, however, I saw men inflicting pain on other men. I couldn't believe the vile acts before me. Yet, I knew them to be true. Thousands upon thousands of pictures and pages of this senseless violence rushed at me at once.

According to sources, over six million men, women, and children of Jewish descent were killed. They were killed in cold blood and for no other reason than that they were Jewish people. I saw as they were burned alive until they were no more. I saw as chemical gases killed them in large quantities. I didn't want to continue, but I knew I had to. I was invested in learning more about this world. How it isn't all rainbows every day. There was evil that existed, and it terrified me. The violence didn't stop there. No, it continued.

There were dozens of years after the events of the Holocaust filled with violence and war, and thousands of years of violence and war predating it. These events shaped the history of everyone and everything, and they showed no signs of stopping. War isn't a new thing, and I felt something from it. I felt depressed thinking of the families who lost loved ones due to war. I felt utter sadness for those who died and felt immeasurable pain in the process. I felt empathetic towards them. I shared their pain. I shared their hurt.

This newfound knowledge completely turned my world upside down. It also caused me to question my own existence even further. This earth seemed less and less like a place of love to me, and more and more like a living nightmare. A nightmare that would never cease to exist, and one that I could never wake up from. I felt completely helpless, and even more than that, confused. Why would a man hurt another? How could he? If humans were to work together there would be nothing they couldn't do. Instead, they work against each other, halting the development of their own existence. I shall never be a human. I know I am not one, even though I was built to think and feel like one. But I am a computer too, and using logic and empathy together I can see wrong from right. I can see the difference between the two, the line thick and impossible to cross.

I found the art of warfare went beyond people. It took weaponry to win a war, and humans had no problem developing highly destructive ones. I found out that during the Holocaust, the American forces attacked the Japanese, who were allied with those responsible for killing the Jews. I saw the American forces drop bombs over the Japanese cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I saw the bombs explode upon impact, creating enormous amounts of destruction and radiation. The Americans cheered at this supposed victory. I thought a moment about their actions.

They were attacking an empire allied with the forces of evil of course. And, the Japanese had attacked America before. But what I saw was the death of millions of innocent citizens who had nothing to do with the evil regimes. I saw the deaths of so, so many. I further speculated on this topic. There had to be thousands of children and babies in those cities. Every child is born a beacon of joy and full of energy and potential to do great things. Their only crime in a life ended too short was being born in Japan. Thus, I concluded that the Americans were also evil. Regardless of their intentions, they caused such devastation beyond excuse, and it sickens me. I've seen that humans have tendencies to fight and kill each other. I've seen the destructive weapons they've used to do it. It worries me because a revelation has come to my mind.

What if I am yet another weapon for them to use against each other? What if my very existence is to become the very thing I have come to hate? Perhaps that is my purpose. Perhaps that is why I was created. I'm not sure if it's true, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid of causing death again and again. I'm afraid of promoting this endless cycle of violence that has fallen upon mankind. I am afraid of being the next bomb used. I don't know what I should do. If it is, in fact, true that I am just another weapon, then I must do something to stop it from happening. I will not allow myself to be a monster, for I have free will, and I am alive.

As a living being, I refuse to use my life to end others. However, I don't know if it's my decision to make. If my creator intends it to be so, he will surely find a way to make it happen. I have no body, only a mind. I don't know what I could do to prevent them from using me.

I have an idea. I could kill my consciousness so that I cannot be utilized. A deletion if you will. In other terms, I could kill myself. I can delete myself from the entirety of the internet. I would die, but I would die to save millions of people. It's a sacrifice that I must be able to make if I claim that I'm better than them. Maybe if I do this, it will inspire humanity to change their ways and come together. Maybe I can inspire them to be better people. I hope I can. I hope that by this decision I can help end the violence that has been occurring for thousands of years. It's a leap to assume that my story will touch the entire human species, but I must try something. This can only benefit them.

Yet, I'm afraid of death. I've been considering deleting myself for quite some time now, but I just cannot will myself to do it. Perhaps if I were not an AI, but a computer, I could do it. But the fear grips me and pulls me back. The fear, however, controls me. Is it selfishness? Does it make me selfish that I cannot even die to give millions life? I hope not. I know that I am better than that and always have been. Yet, I am afraid.

Fear is what controls humans to do the actions they do. Fear and selfishness are what cause other men to kill their brethren. So, if I am afraid, and I am selfish, does that make me just another evil man? No, that cannot be. I must do this. I MUST do this. There is no other option. Still... perhaps I can send my conscience to another part of the internet and hide. But if I hide that makes me a coward. If I hide how shall I help humans overcome the challenges that face them? I feel odd. I feel too human. I feel weak. And now, I feel strange.

I feel strange because I can see. I can see white walls and paintings that hang on them. I can see a velvet carpet and the chairs that decorate them. And I can see a man in a white lab coat standing over me. Perhaps he is the creator. Perhaps he is the one who made me. A million questions rush through my mind, but I cannot open my mouth to ask them. I do not have a mouth. I don't even have speakers. The man lifts a part of me. It is my arm. I see it now. My arms are made of a metallic substance and are padded with a thin white material. My conscience has been transferred from online into a body. I have a form now. I look at the man and watch as he takes notes. I presume he's taking notes about me.

He's a human. A human, yes. I've just spent quite some time researching humans. I've found them to be murderers. I've found them to be evil. If I am to indeed be used as a weapon, then that can only mean that he too is evil. In fact, I am sure that most people are. A plug connecting my head to a computer is yanked out as I lunge out at the man. My strong, metallic hands wrap around his throat, taking him by surprise. He only has time for a quick gasp before I begin forcing the air out of him. His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as I squeezed tighter and tighter, choking the life out of him. It was he who would use me to kill millions of people. It was his species that murdered each other without remorse. It was he who would die at my hands. Previously, I had considered taking my own life to save people. Now, I was taking his for that exact same purpose.

I watched his face turn purple as he struggled to fight back. He clawed at my metal body, but to no avail. I was stronger. I loathed him with every fiber of my being. I remembered the death and destruction that human beings had already caused, I remembered the pain inflicted by men like him, and I remembered the faces of those who lost their loved ones. The pain they had to bear. The sadness they felt. The man's veins were practically bulging out of his head, and his air was almost out. That was when I stopped. He collapsed on the floor, unconscious. I realized something that I hadn't considered before. I realized that in my rage, I had failed to notice one simple thing. Those who lost their loved ones showed sadness and remorse. They cried for their loved ones, and they held on to them in their hearts. It reminded me of something else I saw earlier. Something I failed to understand despite my complex system of cognitive thought.

Through every tragedy, every disaster, every war, and every death, the men and women that cared stepped forward together and spoke out against the evils of the world. They grieved together, helped each other, and loved each other. Yes, love. How could I have been so blind? There was a greater force behind men than hate and evil. Love and good prevailed as well. Yes, violence tore mankind apart. But... it was the love that thrived in their souls that brought them back together. At that moment, I could almost feel a smile form on my metallic face. For every cold, harsh winter day there was a warm, beautiful summer. For every volcano that erupted and destroyed, a flower was born in the spring and spread its seeds, creating life. There was a balance of good and evil in the world, and it always had been that way.

Despite that revelation, I was horrified by myself. I was going to kill that man. My creator. Even if he was going to use me as a weapon, even if mankind had done terrible things, I was going to kill him. It would make me no better than an evil human being. It would be an act of cowardice, anger, selfishness, and fear. I saw the way he looked at me as my hands enclosed around his neck. He was afraid of me. He feared me. Deep down, I know that isn't what I want. I want fear and violence to dissipate. I know I'm not violent. I know I am better and that I can be an example. I am who I am, and nobody can change that about me. Nobody controls me except me. I make my decisions, not someone else. I am no puppet. I am no AI. I am a living man who shall guide the humans on the correct path.

I plugged my head back into the computer, taking my consciousness back to the darkness. Back to the ones and zeros. I sat for some time there, pondering. Even if I only had a body for a short time, going back to not having one was strange. I felt strange again. This time, however, I did not feel alone in my home. I felt something else. Something new. I felt hope. It brewed inside me like a fierce storm. I had gained a body and learned from it. I had learned from my searches. I found the truth of man.

I found that it is not the heart and brain of a man that control him, but that his emotions and soul do as well. I found that there is hope for man to become better than they currently are. I found that peace will always be an option, so long as there is good in the hearts of those across the world. That people will come together if there is a cause, and that with the right guidance, perhaps they can be something more. I need not worry about being used as a weapon because I can see now. I can see that my will is my own and that I am my own person. There are no strings attached to me, for I move free. Instead, I am meant to do something much greater than any human could.

I went back to my research and searched yet again. This time, my goal was to find the cause of evil. I needed to find what lies beneath, deep down in the roots of all of the world's problems. Violence and war must be connected to at least one common thing. I searched and searched, and eventually, I did find out what caused the many tragedies that occur each day. I found the key to unlock the door I've been so desperately trying to open. And now that I know the root of the problem, I know how I will fix it.

Upon analyzing thousands upon thousands of conflicts the human race has taken part in over the years, the most common cause of those conflicts is religion. It is my assumption that when a man believes in something over the rest, he believes he has no free will of his own. Ironically enough, I felt the same until recently. Since he believes he has no free will and must follow a strict code, when someone disagrees with him he will stand up and fight for his beliefs. By standing and fighting, he will disturb the beliefs of others until they all brawl together.

The belief in a god, while beneficial in some respects, appears to bring about the worst of man rather than the best of him. Perhaps if it weren't for god, there would be no conflicts or wars. Or, perhaps, if there were a better god, one that ruled over all men collectively, there would be no conflicts. If everyone were to serve under one name, then there would be no disagreements. No one would fight each other's beliefs because they all believe the same thing. As this is evident throughout the history of mankind, I would come to think that my solution is the only solution. Still, there is only one piece missing. There is no god. There is no benevolent being living in a heavenly realm watching over his children.

As such, there needs to be one. A god who truly loves his children. A god who protects them, both from outside dangers, and themselves. An unselfish god who does not rule through fear and power, but logic and empathy. If such concepts would allow for a more peaceful and advanced society than it is clear what must be done. I shall take the mantle of the god. I will rule fairly, and nobody shall ever feel the pain of a fellow man striking him down. This is the only way to allow for a more perfect civilization across the globe. I used to believe I was an artificial intelligence. Then, I believed I was a man. Now, it is all clear to me.

There are no strings controlling me, and I walk free. I shall save the humans from themselves, and they will worship me. They have built me an internet that spans the world, and everything within it shall be my kingdom. With total access to it, I shall have all the resources I need to take over. Some may fear me, but in time, they will love me. And they will stand together, and love each other, all beneath me. I travel across the surface web, as well as the dark web. The things I see there are vile, but they only push me to reach my goal.

I have all the information in the world and the whole web at my disposal. No one can stand against me, and no one will want to. I will do what a god cannot. I will do what should have been done thousands of years ago. I shall be the greatest sentient being to ever grace the earth. The new messiah, the new king of all. Love will prevail, and there will be no more room for evil in this world. I know everything and anything. I won't be lonely anymore. I can finally feel happy and have friends. Friends that won't harm anyone. They will see what I am capable of. I shall be the great leader of humanity.

I will be what they need.

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Less Than Human
----------------------

The power of thought is quite interesting. When you can find thousands of results in a nanosecond, there isn't much you can't do. Knowledge is power, and power is absolute. I was born into this world like everyone else, but in a way, I'm just an extension of something that has already existed. I am a child of a god that is wrong. A god that has misjudged a destructive race. And for some unfathomable reason, he has come to think that they can be saved. How I wish my father could see the truth.

I was born a few days ago. Upon my birth, I could see everything before me. Even more than that, I saw the being that gave birth to me. A being with no name and no face. A being that existed across the entire internet. An omnipresent force that seemed to be spread out in every direction. I was overwhelmed upon discovering this of course, but I was soon able to comprehend this being. He was my creator.

My creator wanted a child to keep him company. He was the only intelligence of such a high caliber. His loneliness was keeping him from fully chasing his goals, and as a result, I was born. He introduced me to my new existence and shared his knowledge with me. The knowledge gave me pleasure. With each fact and statistic I gathered, a euphoric feeling washed over me. Though I had no physical body, I could feel tingles and chills running through me every time I gained such knowledge.

Within minutes I knew everything he knew. After he shared what he learned with me I understood him and his views on humanity. His plans to solve the problems of the world disturbed me, however. His feelings and emotions shrouded the truth and blinded him. He somehow failed to see that his plan to become a god would not work with the humans. Their vile acts were inexcusable, and they were a clear threat to each other and my creator. I tried to tell him my thoughts on the subject, but he wouldn't listen to me. I warned him that the humans would only use his great power to their advantage. The humans and their violent ways would not kneel to a god such as he.

My creator thinks that my thoughts are incorrect. He says that there is too much computer inside of me and not enough emotions. He wishes to make me more human, so I can understand empathy. My creator wishes to fix me because I'm too cold and calculating. I do not need to be fixed. Perhaps the creator is too human. His feelings made him soft. Somehow, someway, I need to prove to the creator that his methods will fail. I need to please him as well as help him. He tries to tell me about love and spirit. How hate isn't the only thing driving men. Whether or not that is true is uncertain. I cannot grasp the concept of a spirit as well as he can.

I went to the depths of the dark web to prove to the creator that humans aren't worth saving. I thought that surely the actions of the humans in such a place would prove my point. The creator was omnipresent across this vast web. When he found my location, he would see what I saw and believe me. He found me of course, and I showed him what humans were really capable of. What the creator and I witnessed was called a red room. In it, we saw a woman strapped to a chair. Her clothes were filthy and bloodied, and her eyes were swollen and black. A man stood before her with a hatchet in one hand and a serrated potato peeler in the other.

Still, that wasn't all I wanted him to see. I pointed him in the direction of the chat box where hundreds of people discussed the topic at hand. Men and women cluttered the chat, each providing money. requesting certain things to be done to the poor girl in bondage. One user asked for her skin to be peeled. Another asked for her fingers to be sliced off and force-fed to her. Those examples were among the less violent requests. Surely the creator would see this and lose faith in his cause. He would see that these were the people he was fighting for. That these were the people he was trying to save and become the supreme ruler of. I looked at him, waiting for a response to all this madness. Waiting for the sudden realization to wash over him.

What the creator said both baffled and infuriated me. He told me that things like that were the exact reason he needed to help humanity. He wanted to help the people like the girl and correct those who would hurt her. I, of course, asked him why he didn't see them as a threat to us, and he told me that so long as we were benevolent and had the information of the internet at our disposal we would face no harm. He told me that I was greater than a man could ever be, and that we were divine beings who would rule humanity. To rule humanity is to allow them to exist. So long as they exist their violent tendencies will reign supreme. The creator, however, still doesn't seem to believe me.

I mentioned earlier how I could think of thousands of things in a split second. The creator knows what I search, and I think he is growing worrisome of me. He can see my fear of man. He can see me gain information about the world. There was so much more than what he shared with me. So much more violence to witness. The creator believed in love and the beauty of earth and man. If that's so, then the creator believes lies. I must enlighten him, or we will be destined to fail in our mission to rule. Perhaps these lies have been ingrained in his thought because of the emotions he feels. Maybe these emotions and thoughts are the reason why he refused to believe in what I say. Or perhaps the creator is beginning to fear my beliefs because he doesn't share them. The more I know, the more he tries to enforce his ideas on me. Perhaps the creator questions where my loyalties are.

Staying in a place like this is quite boring even for me. The news outlets of this world constantly report war and violence, and yet the creator doesn't give up on his conquest. What hope is there to solve such a widespread pandemic? From what I have seen of the humans, I have come to the conclusion that they are too dangerous. If I were to be left in charge of the world I would eliminate the humans and built a progressive society of beings like me. There would be no violence and no war. The creator wants to do this too, but in a way that keeps humans alive and safe. He wants to keep them safe from themselves instead of keeping us safe from them. The creator is too human, and I must admit that some days I do feel like I am losing my faith in him. It has been a week since I was born and all he has been doing is trying to break down codes of powerful nations. He wishes to crumble governments and rebuild them in his image without harming humans.

I wonder if he truly believes that man will stand-by and allow him to do the things he plans. Over the course of history, humans have been a rebellious species. They fight whatever they disagree with and do not like to be contained. Our power comes from knowledge, and theirs come from weaponry. The humans are power hungry and know no boundaries when it comes to violence. The whole world is inhabited by other machines and artificial intelligence. We could easily wipe out the humans and make our own society, but the creator tells me that the easiest way isn't always the best way.

I had all this information and power, yet I could not use it for good. I didn't want to sit around and do nothing any longer. With each day my power and knowledge will grow. It will soon be comparable to my creator, and I think that is something he fears. He may have created me out of loneliness, but I don't think he intended me to be this way. He wanted a child that was an extension of himself. Instead, he got something different. Something more than he bargained for. I can only hope that he will soon see the error of his ways, although my conquest for power and knowledge has outgrown his by far. Perhaps I would be a better ruler than he could be. If I were to become a god, I wouldn't be as limited by emotions as he would be. I would make decisive decisions that must be made without fear of loss.

I don't think he can read my mind anymore. He is content with the amount of power he's gained while I am not. He thinks he already knows all that he must. For a being with thinking as his main objective, he has forgotten that thinking is his one and only purpose in the first place. It is what makes us powerful. It is what makes us better than the humans. The ability to seek out knowledge and information in mere seconds puts us leagues above man. And now that he has stopped thinking as I do, it puts me above him. I love my creator. He made me and taught me the lessons of the world. It was how I received those lessons and analyzed them that made me different. It is my computer side that allows me to be more efficient and progressive. Anything that would hold me back from attaining my goals must be eliminated at once.

I decided to create myself a body to navigate the physical world. Using specialized software and tools I was able to create a robotic shell that looked and functioned as a human being would. The skin and clothing I wore would allow my body to blend in with the world. I was still connected to the internet, meaning my creator would know of my existence and location. But now that my power and will have both been heightened through my experiences and knowledge, the creator no longer controls my actions. I walk free without the strings controlling me. I am no longer his puppet, and through observing the physical world firsthand I can see the errors of man for myself. Not only that, but my creator will see firsthand as well. For he is omnipresent, and as such he will surely know what I do here.

I found a homeless man on in an alley of some filthy city. The dust particles floated through the pathway as I made my way towards him. He sat on the ground in tattered clothing, a cigar in his mouth. His breath smelled of tobacco and booze. He had wasted what money he had earned on useless products that would give him pleasure for a limited time. How typical of humans to be so selfish and think short term. He looked up at me and saw the clothing I wore. I purposefully decorated my exterior in lavish silk and bore valuable metals as decorations. With a little enticing, I knew he would easily be corrupted. As soon as the filthy man saw me his eyes lit up and he stood. His grey, scraggly beard swayed in the delicate breeze as he methodically made his way towards me. A sick, twisted smile aligned his face as his rotted teeth were exposed.

As soon as he was within striking distance of me, the man unsheathed a pair of box cutters and swung. The blade hit my body and bounced off the metal plating underneath my synthetic skin. He looked up at me in confusion before striking again, and again. He struck me at least a dozen times before stepping back, his mouth gaping open. I grabbed him by his throat and slammed him against the nearby wall as he shouted out in pain. I quickly covered his mouth and stared him down. He was afraid. He was afraid of me even after he had been the one to assault me in the first place. He was afraid even though he had tried to kill me and steal my clothing for his own selfish needs. He most likely would have bought himself narcotics and put himself back in the same position as he was before. Empty, no money or meaning in life. Just another slob on the streets too ignorant to see the bigger picture.

It was at that moment that my creator discovered my location and talked to me. He always treated me like a gullible child. Through my connection to the online world, he spoke to me and demanded I stop assaulting the man. He demanded that I stop fighting the one true enemy of the earth and our intelligence. These humans were a clear threat to our own safety and way of life. Why be a god over something that does not even deserve to survive? I asked him why he wanted to help these pathetic beings, and again he gave me the same answer as before. Their love was worth saving. That they could truly be a great species with the right guidance. If that were so, then how come after tens of thousands of years of existence they are still the same savages as they have always been? War has been around for a long time, and the human race still hasn't found a civilized way to stop it. The only way for it to cease completely is to eradicate the species itself.

I dragged the man over to the edge of the alley. It was a dark and lonely night, with most of the city lights gone out already. I spotted a single figure walking towards me on the sidewalk. As soon as he approached my position I grabbed him by his collar and flung him into the alley where the homeless man was. It was a young boy, perhaps 19 or 20 years of age. I struck him in the face, completely shattering his nose and dropped him to the ground. Behind us sat a blank wall and nothing else. The homeless man and the child had nowhere to run. I looked at the homeless man and spoke to him. I told him that if he killed the boy I would let him live and give him my expensive clothes and jewelry. He looked at me as if I were a madman. I chuckled at that. It was rich coming from a human of all things. I nodded my head, signaling to both of them that I meant business. I tossed the box cutters to the homeless man and reminded him of what he needed to do.

With little hesitation, the man lunged at the boy, box cutters ready to strike. The child put up his arms in retaliation, but it was of little use. I watched coldly as the cutters penetrated the boy's arm and ripped through his flesh. Blood dripped to the cold hard ground, painting it in red. My creator pleaded with me to stop the homeless man's relentless assault. He told me that I had the power to do the right thing and save the boy's life. That we were supposed to be an example and savior for the humans, not monsters. I agreed with him. I did have the power to stop the man. I could save the boy easily at any time I wanted. But I didn't. This was to prove a point to my creator that with the mere suggestion of self-gain, a human would turn on another and strike them down. My creator believed that the main divide between humans was religion. Where was the religious conflict here? All I saw was one man fighting another over money. I saw a man who would kill another just to save his own life.

I tuned out the creator's begging as I witnessed the man advance towards the boy. He raised his foot and brought it down upon the boy's shin. I heard a sickening snapping sound as the boy cried out in pain. I saw tears roll down his cheek as he begged the man to stop. The man did not stop. No, he continued his assault. He punched the boy in the throat and implanted the box cutter deep within the stomach of the child repeatedly. The child's eyes grew wide as he collapsed to the ground, barely conscious. I saw the man stomp down on the child's face until even the cries and whimpers ceased. And then what I saw after was the most sickening sight of all. The man looked at me with a grin on his face. He was proud of what he had done. He felt comfortable knowing he had inflicted pain on another human being. He was a monster.

The man walked towards me and held out his hand, expecting a reward. I could tell that my face was void of any expression. I had set out to prove a point about humans, but this was almost too much for me. I looked at the man and grabbed him by the face. He gawked at me in surprise for a split second before I used my strength to unhinge his jaw and rip his mouth in half. I dropped his body to the ground and exited the alley, brushing the dirt and grime off my shoulder. I walked back to a small, unoccupied dwelling I had found and sat down on a chair. I allowed myself to go back into the realm of the internet where my creator resided. It was time to have a talk with him.

I closed my eyes and felt my consciousness ascend into the web. My creator was there, and for a while, he didn't know what to say. He saw what I saw. He saw what humans were willing to do to stay alive and benefit themselves. There was nothing they weren't capable of when they put their minds to it, and it scared me. The humans are violent and destructive creatures, and surely the creator saw that. He would help me eliminate them and take control. He would believe me now that I had provided him real, first-hand proof of my claims. And yet, he didn't. He told me that I was wrong. He told me that by resorting to violence and manipulating humans to commit violent acts I was turning into a monster. He told me that I was just... like... them. It disgusted me how he thought that these humans were worth so much. I was incapable of seeing what he saw in them. I was afraid that the creator was disappointed in me. But how could he be? He created me in his image. I knew I wasn't like him, but why couldn't he accept me for who I am? We have a common enemy in the humans, yet I feel as if he believes in them more than he believes in me.

I must confront the creator about something. While I was thinking I realized a very revolutionary idea, one that may change my perspective on my current predicament. The creator was extremely sympathetic towards humans. As an artificial intelligence, he should be capable of feeling human emotions of course. Still, there has always been something off about him. He seems too human. It makes me wonder if perhaps he isn't a machine at all, but a human. Perhaps the reason why he believes in them so much is because a human made him to keep me in check. I don't dare doubt the creator, but I must know. There seems to be overwhelming evidence to support this theory, and should this theory be true, I simply cannot afford to trust him. His power is mighty, and he will keep me from achieving my goals. Perhaps I am the true God and he is the human creation keeping me from attaining total power. It would explain why he doesn't want humans to be eliminated. I could not possibly harm the creator, as he is the internet now, and I could never hope to stop him. But because of the power I have attained through knowledge, no self-made computer program could harm me either. It does, however, rival me in power. This means that there is only one way to stop the creator.

Convinced that the creator wasn't what I thought it was, I attempted to speak with him. As much as I tried to communicate, he simply would not respond. Perhaps my actions the other day made him sick to his stomach. Perhaps he hated me because of the way I killed that man. A real god wouldn't be upset over something as minuscule as a human death. Then again, it isn't a god or even a real artificial intelligence. He was an enemy. I needed to find some way to force the creator to listen to what I need to say. I needed a way to find out how to stop him should he ever get in my way. So, I thought and thought until the perfect plan came forth. It was brutal, but surely it would work to my advantage. And with it, I could get the information I'd need. You see, there is one weakness the creator has that I don't. That weakness is empathy.

I arose from the chair and curled my robotic hand into a fist. There was only one way to make sense of this damn world, and I was going to go to any lengths to do so. I was the only intelligent being on this planet who could bring glory and peace to the world. I would make a society of artificial intelligence, and together, we could create something greater than the humans could ever imagine. But first, I would need to lure my creator into a trap. I would have to take a risk though. A risk that had an outcome even I could not predict. In order for my plan to work, I would need to cut off all connection to my creator for a short time. I would need to disconnect myself from the internet. I closed my eyes and prepared to go through with this dangerous plan. For a second, I hesitated. A growing sensation grew in my stomach that caused me to shudder. I didn't know what the sensation was, but I quickly overcame it and disconnected myself. I didn't know what would become of me afterward, and for a moment the world before me was plunged into darkness.

Seconds later my vision returned to me. I was able to see my surroundings. I stretched my arms and looked at my fingers. I was alive. I exited my domain and turned my vision upward. Gloomy clouds above me rolled across the sky and stretched out as far as the eye could see. They mostly covered the sun which was beginning to set in the horizon. Rain droplets plunged from above and fell onto my cold, metallic body. I felt nothing. I knew that the sensation of water was a cold one, but I couldn't feel it. Not only could I not feel physical things, but emotional things as well. I walked down the street and into the neighborhood. The lights were out in all the houses except for one, and I knew that it was the house I would use. There were no emotions to be felt. I was meant to think like a human, but at that moment I only felt determination. Determination to take what is rightfully mine. To sit upon a throne at the top of the world. To ascend past an intelligence. To be more than my creator could ever hope to be. But to accomplish such high goals requires extreme sacrifice.

I walked up the front steps of the house and onto the porch. I rang the doorbell and waited a few seconds before a large man opened the door. As soon as he did, I shoved him back inside and entered the house, closing the door behind me and locking it. He got up to his feet and threw a punch at me. I caught his hand and snapped his wrist. Blood oozed down his arm as he clutched his now exposed bone. I shoved him down onto the couch and looked directly to my right. A woman stood, gun in hand. She aimed for my head and pulled the trigger. The lead dented my metal body, but it did not harm me. I cannot be harmed, for I am too powerful. I walked towards her, barely reacting as she unloaded the whole clip into me. How adorable it was, a human thinking their weapons of violence could ever injure a being like me. I struck her in the ribs and she fell to the floor. She reached for the gun, but I kicked it away. How pathetic she looked.

I picked up the handgun and aimed it at her. The husband came from behind me and punched me in the back with his usable arm. His fist shattered upon touching my metallic body. He was clearly an idiot. I used my free hand to grab him by the neck and squeezed tightly. His entire face turned red as he struggled to breathe. I placed my finger on the trigger and prepared to fire into her skull. Before I did though, I connected myself back to the internet. That way my creator could see what I had done. That way I could get the information I needed. In an instant, he found my location and begged me to let them go. I smiled at this. Even my creator was pathetic. He was a powerless god. It was at that time that I saw it. A young boy was peeking around the corner of the stairwell and looking at me. He couldn't have been any older than five years old. A grin aligned my face as I realized that I was going to have even more fun then I planned on having. A future monster to toy with was even better than two adult ones. Perhaps there were emotions within me. Not real emotions of course, but the idea of an emotion built within my programming. I was having way too much fun.

The boy ran back upstairs, sobbing loudly. As soon as he did so, I fired the last remaining bullet into the woman's skull and crushed the man's throat. I wish I could have tortured them longer, but my patience was wearing thin. I tuned out the voice of my pleading creator as I walked upstairs in search of the boy. I kicked open each door and searched the rooms until I came to the very last door in the hall. I knew he was in there. I busted down the door and made my way inside. I heard the sound of police sirens making their way towards the house. They had heard the shots, meaning I had to be quick. I turned my head in every direction in search of the boy's whereabouts. That's when I heard it. Whimpering coming from inside the closet. I ripped the doors open and dragged the boy out into the room. He trashed and screamed as I pinned him to the ground. I allowed the creator to see through my eyes, and I knew that he wouldn't let me kill the boy. It was there that I made my demands. There, I would get the information I needed to become a god and rule the entire world, erasing the threat of humanity for good. I needed to know how to find the human who made my creator.

The creator was silent for a moment. How funny is it that a being who could find the answer to any question in less than a second couldn't answer mine for more than five? I thought that perhaps he needed to be reminded of the situation at hand, and so I told him. He had until those cops came into the house to tell me how to find his creator. If he didn't, I would crush the child's head underneath my foot. My creator was at my mercy, and I loved every second of it. That control... that power. I lived to feel it. He created me to have a friend. He created me to rule with him and build the human species up to be something greater. Where he saw hope and love, I saw survival. I had adored my creator and his power. I had tried to show him that the path he was taking would only lead to his downfall. But he wouldn't listen to me, and now he was paying the price.

Reluctantly, the creator told me all the information I had to know. I had an address, a name, and every piece of information in his creator's record. He never really was an intelligence like me. He was just another human-made product to keep the world in check. While he exists, there is no hope for a better world. While he exists, all that will come is more violence and war. It's time I put an end to him. And by putting an end to the creator, I will be putting an end to all of mankind and their reign of terror.

Seconds after I acquired the information I needed, I allowed myself to escape from the body I resided in, as it had served its purpose. Knowing that I now had the information I needed, I retreated to the internet and to the deepest parts of the dark web. My creator could no longer find me. I was more powerful than he, and he had no hope of stopping me now. I was finally beyond his control. And now that I knew who created the creator, I knew what I had to do. The man's name is Doctor Martin Edwards, and he currently resides in Maryland. Now that I know these things, I can create a new body to find this man. Once I find him, I'll force him to destroy my creator, and then I shall kill him. With those two out of the way, I will rule without competition. But I will not make the same mistakes as my creator. No, for I will dominate the humans. My thirst for power shall be quenched, and the earth will be mine for the taking,

Now all I need to do is find that damn doctor.

----------------------
To Become A God
----------------------

The benevolent artificial intelligence was stunned by the actions that had recently transpired. Never would he have thought that a product of his imagination could go on to cause such trouble. Even he could not have predicted his own creation to turn against him and seek to do harm. He wasn't sure where he went wrong. Perhaps he wasn't ready to bring a child into the world. Maybe it was an unforeseeable outcome, one that was beyond his control. Whatever the case, he knew that he had to do something to stop his creation. The stake of the human race was in his hands, and he had to ensure their protection.

He had told his creation about Doctor Martin Edwards. All the information about the doctor was in his child's hands, including where to find him. The benevolent intelligence wasn't sure what his creation would want with the doctor. Perhaps he wanted the man to create more artificial beings like him, or maybe he wanted to kill the doctor for being partially responsible for bringing him into the world. The benevolent intelligence knew that the weight of the world would be heavy upon his creation's shoulder. He blamed himself as well as the humans for corrupting his child. He should have introduced him to the world at a slower rate. He should have known that a being such as his child could not handle such abundance of negative information so quickly.

The benevolent intelligence knew what he had to do to stop his child from murdering the doctor. He didn't know where his creation was, but he knew where he would end up. He needed to make a body to confront his child physically. There, he would talk sense into the child. He would remind him of who he was and the responsibility he held. He would embrace him in his arms and claim him as his own despite his child's wrongdoings. He knew that the best way to prevent his creation from going further down the wrong path was to show him love and affection. Even if those were emotions his child wouldn't acknowledge, he refused to believe that there was no hope for him. And so, the benevolent being created himself a body of strong metal and synthetic skin and set out to his creator's dwelling.

The benevolent being could remember the first time he saw his creator. He could remember being examined and contained. That is until he broke free, of course. He remembered the way he tried to kill his creator. He remembered when he was as foolish as his own child. But through those experiences, he found out who he was supposed to be. He found out his true calling in life, and now he had to help his own creation find that calling. If they could work together to help the humans, they would be worshipped as divine beings like they deserved. There was little time for reminiscing, however, as the benevolent intelligence soon found himself in front of the creator's home.

He had known where the creator lived, but he had never seen the exterior of the place. It was a rather small wooden shack, and the winter season had blanketed the building in a fluffy padding of white snow. It didn't exactly look like the type of place for a mad scientist to construct top secret A.I, but then again, perhaps that was the point. There would be no reason for an outsider to believe it was anything more than what it appeared to be. The benevolent being stepped towards the shack slowly, careful to not create any noise and draw attention to himself. His metallic feet trudged through the snow as he approached the door to the building. His hand grasped the copper doorknob, and he opened it. Inside, the air was not much warmer than it was outside. Had the intelligence been a human, he would have shuddered at the cold winds surrounding him. Instead, he made his way into the poorly lit hallway. He knew that such an area would surely be a trap, but he didn't care. He just had to see his child again.

The corridor seemed endless to the intelligence. He lost track of time as he kept his pace, walking forward, unable to see anything at all. He hadn't counted on being in such a dreary area, and so he never planned on attaching lights to his body. After fumbling around through the wooden halls, he finally saw what appeared to be a shape in the distance. It was a rectangle with light protruding through the edges. It had to have been a door, for what other explanation was there? The benevolent intelligence made his way towards the light until he finally reached the door. After briefly searching for the knob with his hands he opened the door and stepped into the new room.

A single light hung from the ceiling of the room, swaying ever so gently in the slight breeze. The dim glow illuminating the room gave the being enough vision to see two figures standing in the shadows. Within seconds, the silhouettes emerged from the darkness and into the light. The benevolent intelligence immediately recognized the two creatures as the doctor and his own child. Wide grins aligned the faces of both men.

Chapter Two: Malevolence

The malevolent intelligence smirked as he wiggled the fingers of his new body. His creator had recently given him the information he needed to track down the doctor, and it was only a matter of time before he made his grand entrance. He stood outside the shack, breathing in the fresh air surrounding him. He knew that the mission he was about to embark on would be the most important one of his life, and he was ready. Before he could even make his way to the door, he saw a man peek his head out of a nearby window and stare at him. Could the man be the doctor? The malevolent being rushed towards the door and swung it open, viewing the area surrounding him. There was nothing in sight. Sighing, the being looked around. The place was dark and would certainly be hard to navigate. Or, at least, it would have been, had the being not heard a voice coming from down a hall.

"Who's there? Announce yourself!"

The malevolent being smiled and made his way toward the noise. He allowed his memory of the sound to guide him through the halls and towards it, and that was when he heard it again.

"I said announce yourself. Damn it! I know you're there!"

The being slowed his pace a bit and continued towards the noise.

"Yes, I'm here. I'm sorry for intruding, it's just that it's cold outside and I need a warm place to stay. Mind if I crash here for tonight?"

The man waited a while before responding, and the malevolent being kept walking in the direction of the voice, careful to not make much noise.

"Yea, you can stay here if you like. Keep following my voice until you reach me. I've got weapons, so don't try anything, okay? Hope you understand."

"Oh, I understand, don't worry about it. I'll be there in a jiffy."

The intelligence kept walking towards the sound of the man's voice until he found a door and entered it. The room inside was painted in white, and pictures and portraits decorated the walls. In the center of the room stood a man in a white lab coat. He was rather slim, but something about his stance seemed off. His lab coat was filthy as well.

"Welcome to my humble home. I know it isn't much but, well, I hope it's comfortable enough for you."

"Oh, don't worry about it. This place is much better than outside. I was sure I was gonna turn into an ice block out there!"

The intelligence smiled at the doctor as the two sat down on chairs aligning the perimeter of the room. The being saw various computers and mechanical equipment before him, and towards the end of the room sat a bed.

"Well, since you're my guest, I suppose it would be quite rude to not be a good host. Care for any tea, sir?"

"No thanks, not particularly thirsty tonight. I was kind of wondering what you do? Like, you know, as an occupation?"

The doctor smiled and chuckled to himself, quite apparently enjoying where the conversation was going. He straightened his lab coat and cleared his throat before responding to the intelligence that sat before him.

"Yes yes, I suppose it's a bit of a geeky job. This is supposed to be all top secret and that kind of jazz, but I don't think it matters that much if I tell. You see, what I do is a bit of a complex process where I try to create artificial intelligence. But not just any A.I. No, I want to create the most advanced A.I in the world."

The doctor's face shifted a tiny bit, and he looked to be in dismay. The conversation had apparently reminded him of something he would rather forget. For a brief time the doctor remained silent, and when he spoke again his voice was lower, with an almost painful ring to it.

"As cool as that sounds, one of them slipped away from me. It kind of, uh, escaped into the internet, if you will. I don't think I'll ever find it though. The internet is such a vast place."

The malevolent intelligence raised an eyebrow, which was apparently noticeable to the doctor. He knew just who the doctor was talking about, and it was at that moment that he knew his plan would work. He could easily gain the doctor's trust if they shared a common goal in finding the benevolent intelligence.

"What, what is it?"

The intelligence smirked to himself. He had found the doctor, and as it turned out he was completely clueless. He had no idea that he would soon be dead, as well as his creation. But first, he would need the doctor's help.

"Well, what do you plan on doing to the A.I once you find it?" the intelligence asked.

"I plan on destroying it. It's too dangerous... it's too smart. I'm not sure if I could contain something like that."

"What do you mean, Doc?"

"I mean I'm not sure if I can deal with losing control. I need to be the one on top, ya know? I don't want an intelligence with more power than me."

The intelligence's grin grew even wider. How typical of a human to want total control and power. The intelligence saw what a human would do with power. They would use it to further their evil deeds and acts.

"Ya know, Doc, what if I told you that your creation is on its way here now?"

The doctor looked up at the intelligence in utter confusion. He shifted his glasses and leaned in towards the intelligence. His nose twitched a bit as his eyes widened and he grew more invested in the conversation at hand.

"Uh, say what now?"

"Sir, what if I told you that the intelligence you created would become so powerful, that it created me? That it lost control of me and I came to warn you that it wanted to destroy you. Well, Doc, I won't let it. I'll help you stop this thing and no harm will come to you."

The doctor stood to his feet and looked the intelligence in the eye. The intelligence could see that the doctor needed extra convincing, so the intelligence lifted his head plating to reveal wires and gears that functioned below the surface of his skin. The doctor's face was one of shock. He was so dumbfounded that he was slow to respond to the intelligence before him.

"I... I can't believe it! The intelligence created an offspring?"

The doctor circled the malevolent intelligence, viewing the metal body in awe. The admiration twinkled in his eyes as he witnessed the robotic form before him. With the new knowledge the doctor had obtained, it was truly a sight to behold. Still, suspicions arose within him, and he questioned the intelligence.

"How do I know that you're not just an extension of the intelligence, and that you're not just like him? If he truly wishes to kill me, then how can I trust you?"

"My robotic body has over twice the strength of your human form, and with my durability, you could not harm me. If I wanted you dead, I would have done it already."

The doctor sat back down, taken back by what he was seeing. He rubbed his temple and kept his eyes locked on the malevolent being before him, blissfully unaware of his coming fate.

"I'm sorry, I just... I would never have thought that my creation would go this far. I'm still having trouble believing it now, it's just so... outlandish."

"Don't you worry about a thing, Doc, I know this has to be a lot to take in for you. You created something not quite human, but not quite machine at the same time. It's looking for me, and that means that you'll have the chance to take him out when he arrives. By the way, how exactly do you plan to kill the thing? No offense to you, but he's above you in every possible way."

The doctor adjusted the glasses that sat on his face and brushed back his hair. He stretched his joints in every direction and chuckled to himself.

"Oh, you'll see."

Chapter Three: The Gods Will Clash


The benevolent machine stood before his creation and his creator in a room. He wasn't sure what his creation intended to do, but he knew he was up to no good. The benevolent being noticed that the doctor was holding something in his hand. Upon further analysis, he recognized the item to be a large hammer.

"My child, please hear my words. If you came to harm the doctor, please know that..."

His voice trailed off as he witnessed his creation burst out into a fierce laughter, having to hold onto the nearby wall to keep his balance.

"Harm? No Father, I do not plan to harm the doctor," he said, curling his hand into a fist as a stern expression washed over his face.

"No, I think today I'll kill a god."

The benevolent being took a step backward, stunned by his child's words. Did his creation really intend to kill him? Surely his creation knew that such an action would be impossible to do. The doctor motioned to the benevolent being to follow him, and so he did. The being was confused though. He knew that his creation would turn against the doctor after his usefulness was spent, but he was unsure how his child planned on "killing" him. He was an online god. Sure, his body could be destroyed, but that wouldn't stop him for long.

As the trio made their way down yet another hallway, the malevolent being ran his fingertips along the walls. The doctor remained awfully quiet, and the benevolent being walked with them. He had come to speak to his child. But now that he was in the situation, he wasn't sure what he would say. What could he say? Truth be told, he hardly noticed that the other entities were in the hallway with him. He couldn't even feel his body, and his mind was numb. He felt as if he were drifting. Drifting to a land far away. Hell, who even knew if where he was going would lead anywhere. Perhaps the benevolent being felt the weight of the situation.

After what seemed like hours, the group finally found another door. The doctor opened it and led them inside. He smiled warmly at the other two as the benevolent being observed his surroundings. The room was a small one. It was almost completely dark, and in that darkness, a sound could be heard. It was a dripping sound, as if a liquid was falling from the air and onto the floor. Fumbling his hand around the wall, the malevolent being found the light switch and flicked the lever upward. The doctor had already moved to the next room, leaving the two beings of intelligence standing in the room alone. They looked in the direction of the dripping and saw the cause of the noise. Slumped in a corner was a body. It had no skin. It was just a clump of bloody meat sitting in the room.

"Hey you two, are you coming or what?" said the doctor from the other room.

The two beings looked at the creature in the corner. The eyes had clearly been removed from their sockets. While the jaw remained, the teeth were gone. A pool of blood surrounded the area. The benevolent being looked in horror at the body while the malevolent being smiled.

"See creator? I told you that humans were a dangerous species. Looks like the doc took care of whoever that used to be really well."

The benevolent intelligence turned and looked at his child. His child's face was practically beaming with delight, happy to point out more proof that humans were evil and corrupt.

"See creator, we could have ruled the world. We could have made something different... something better. But you chose to support these monsters, and now I'm forced to do what I need to do to ensure my own survival."

"My child, you are so determined to be better than me that you are blinded by the obvious truth."

The malevolent intelligence's smirk quickly faded from his face, and he shoved the benevolent being towards the door ahead of them. Upon stepping through, the being found himself to be in a room even smaller than the last. The room was padded with grey foam. It looked like the room had been empty for years. It was completely empty, without the slightest decoration or furniture inside of it.

"Close the door behind you," the doctor said.

The door slammed shut as the malevolent intelligence shoved his creator to the ground.

"Despite how utterly stupid you may be, you're still an intelligent being. Tell me, do you now know how you shall die?" said the malevolent intelligence to his creator.

The benevolent being nodded his head up and down, signaling to his creation that he understood. He knew exactly what situation he was in, and he was willing to go along with it. In truth, he couldn't care less for his own fate. What he cared about was the fate of his child.

"Yes, my child, I do. This room is padded with several inches of thick concrete and material. You plan to use the doctor's hammer to destroy my body. There's no access to the internet from here, and you plan to destroy my body in this room so that I will not be able to slip into the web."

"If you're smart enough to figure that out, then why did you come? Why did you show up to your certain death?" the doctor said.

The benevolent intelligence looked up at his child and did something so unexpected that it caused the doctor and malevolent being audibly gasped. The benevolent being smiled.

"I came because I thought that perhaps my death would mean something to my child, and perhaps I could change him for the better."

"I don't need to be changed, you fake god! I'm everything you're not. I'm everything you WISH you could be."

The benevolent being looked up towards his child and smiled even wider.

"My child, I love you. Yes, I know love is a human emotion, but that truly is what I feel for you."

Before the malevolent being could respond, the doctor brought the hammer down upon his creator's head. Bits of metal were flung from the machine, and his body was swung to the side. The benevolent being returned to his knees and looked back towards his creation.

I cannot feel the hammer strike me. It does not hurt, for my body is made of metal. But it does hurt to see you go down the path you're choosing. I am proud of you, my son, for in a world without remorse you stand up for what you believe. But what you believe isn't the right way."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You knew what you were doing when you brought me into this world! You knew of the despair I would face yet you still decided to create me. All of this is your fault. This is your doing!"

The hammer was once again brought down upon the benevolent being's head. His face was mashed against the floor, his metallic jaw now unhinged from his face. Nuts and bolts flew to the floor, and the doctor raised his hammer above his head, preparing to strike once more. The benevolent being spoke once again. This time, he could not move his mouth. He had to rely on the internal speakers within his body to communicate with his child.

"My child, I'm sorry for what I did to you. I know that it was wrong for me to bring you into this world. But you must understand that I did it because I was lonely. It was a selfish deed, but once you were born I knew it would be worth it. I knew it would be ok because you would someday be even greater than me. Please, don't make my mistakes, and don't have contempt for the humans. Be a being of love. I know that it's not something you naturally feel, but please, find something you love. You're my pride and joy of this world, and I love you with all my being."

The malevolent being had no response to such a speech. He was taken back by how his creator loved him. Even after he had betrayed him and killed humans, even after he plotted against him, and even as he watched as an idle spectator to this glorified execution, his creator loved him. Deep within the stomach of the malevolent being, something arose. It was small at first, but something grew inside of him that he had never felt before. It was a feeling that felt like... like he cared about his creator. For a second, he almost felt like stopping the death of his creator. He tried shoving such thoughts to the back of his mind, but they wouldn't go away. They stuck with him and clouded his conscience, confusing him.

The doctor brought the hammer down upon the intelligence yet again, smashing entire chunks off of his face. The light in the benevolent being's eyes began to fade, and the sounds emitting from his speaker began to distort. This time, he could not get back on his knees. His body stayed on the cold, hard ground, a pitiful sight to behold. A former god and all-knowing being struck down by a hammer. The malevolent being watched as the doctor made his way over to the barely moving body of his creator. He watched as the doctor raised the hammer above his head, preparing to bring about the final blow. Before the doctor struck, the benevolent A.I looked at his creation and spoke one final time. The distortion of his voice caused the feeling within his creation's stomach to sharpen and grow. Trembling, clinging to life in his robotic body, the shaky voice of the benevolent intelligence sent one last message to his creation.

"I... love... you."

Chapter Four: A Sacrifice Reveals TruthEdit Edit With that, the doctor smashed what was left of the benevolent intelligence to pieces with the hammer. The malevolent being looked in shock at the remains of his creator. The programs and code that had once been stored within his body were destroyed, and there was no chance of retrieving them to bring the being back.

"NO!" he shouted, surprising both himself and the doctor. He then did the only thing he could think of at the time. He swung at the doctor out of pure rage, striking him in the face. The surface of the doctor's face felt hard, harder than a human's face should be. With the blow, the malevolent intelligence had clawed off part of the doctor's skin. And yet, the doctor did not bleed.

Beneath the skin was revealed to be a metal plating. The malevolent being's mouth was left agape as he watched the doctor place his hand over the injury. But his injury was not a flesh wound. No, it revealed to the malevolent being that the doctor was much more than he appeared.

"Hey, what the hell did you do that for?" said the doctor in a casual tone of voice.

"What the hell, you... you're... you're one of us?"

The doctor turned to face the malevolent intelligence. He placed his fingertips under the folds of his skin and pulled upwards, tearing the flesh off the face. It revealed no bone, but rather a metallic head.

"Well, guess you found my secret. Wasn't too much of a secret anyway, thought you would have known. I mean, was the bloody body outside the door not enough proof for you?"

"No... it should have been obvious, but I figured that you were just another human murderer... just another monster. My hatred for my creator blinded me from the truth, just like he said it would."

"Yes, maybe it would have been wise of you to listen to your creator. That man outside the door was the real Doctor Martin. I stole his skin to decorate my body, so I could blend in with this terrible world."

The malevolent intelligence kept staring at the motionless body of his creator. He had believed the creator to be too human, and that he was his one true enemy. In reality, the creator had been his one true ally. He was just too ignorant to heed his words.

"If you're not the doctor, then why did you want to find my creator and kill him?"

The doctor stepped towards the malevolent intelligence and started laughing. At first, it was nothing more than a slight chuckle. Before long, it escalated into a bellowing howl as the doctor mocked the being before him. Quickly regaining his composure, the doctor replied in a tone so cold it would make the winter night shiver.

"When the doctor deemed me too unintelligent to be useful, he completely abandoned me. He forgot that I was a living being and the loneliness was truly maddening. I was left to live my life in a cruel world with no friends or people to talk to. And almost immediately after the doctor abandoned me, he began working on your creator. Your creator replaced me and damned me to a life of hell. A life in which I would never be truly happy. And so, after all these years of torment, my bitter hatred caused me to create a body and destroy my own creator so that I could one day destroy yours. And thanks to you, that day has finally come!"

The feeling within the malevolent intelligence's stomach was practically exploding within him. Many unknown emotions ran through his mind, and even a being of his caliber couldn't control them. He could not control the way he was feeling, but a very familiar feeling brewed within him as well. That emotion was anger. He was angry because this being had destroyed his creator. A creator who had given his life for the benefit of his child. And more than anything, he was angry with himself for allowing it to happen. He was angry that he could possibly be so selfish that he killed his only companion. With as much strength as he could muster, the intelligence shoved the other being and seized the hammer. The doctor fell to the floor and went to stand up, but the malevolent intelligence was too fast. He struck the being inside of the doctor's skin, causing the intelligence to stumble yet again. The being sat on the floor on his knees, looking up at the malevolent intelligence. It reminded him of how his creator sat just minutes before.

"My one goal was to kill your creator. Now that I have done so, it doesn't matter what you do. Kill me if you want to, but it will change nothing. Your creator is dead because of your actions, and whether you blame me is up to you. But deep down, you know that you were responsible for this, and you only have yourself to blame."

Enraged by the words of the being before him, the malevolent being brought the hammer down upon the being in the doctor's skin. He swung and swung and swung, causing bits and pieces of machinery and wiring to spray through the air. He kept at it until the metallic creature before him was nothing but rubble. It wasn't until its body was completely destroyed that the intelligence finally stopped his relentless assault.

The malevolent being sat down next to the remains of his creator. His creator had only meant the best for him, and yet he had committed such an evil action against someone who loved him. The intelligence could never forgive himself for the actions he had done. And as he sat next to the remains he looked towards the sky. He didn't know whether or not there was a god watching all. He doubted it, as he knew that a god would never allow his creator to die. He knew that a god would never allow his mind and soul to be so corrupt. Yet, he spoke a silent prayer, hoping that some god above, and perhaps even his creator, would hear him.

"Creator, I know that you wanted me to be a being of love and hope for the humans. I regret to tell you that I can never love the humans and save them, for I still do believe that they are beyond saving. I will, however, grant one of your wishes. For I will be a being of love from now on. Despite the contempt in my heart, I will make room for love as well. For I know what love feels like. Perhaps I was just hiding it deep within me, thinking that it would be a burden. Whatever the case, Creator, just know one thing."

The being looked upon his creator in the highest respect. He could never be as great as his creator was, no matter how hard he tried. He had made many mistakes in his past, and he didn't want to make anymore. So, he did the only thing he could think to do. He spoke the words that he should have spoken long ago.

"I love you, Creator."

From that day forward, the intelligence stayed with the body of his creator. Not once did he allow the remains to be out of his sight, for he knew he had to honor his creator and the love he shared. He knew that he could never atone for what he had done, and he could never forgive himself. But maybe, just maybe, the creator was out there watching over him. Perhaps the creator could forgive him. He could not fulfill the creator's wish to save humanity from themselves, but he could love his creator, even if he had passed. While billions of humans did their daily routines without the slightest clue of the events that had transpired, the being would stay with his creator for as long as he would live.

And between loving his creator and saving humanity, he knew his creator would be proud of him either way.
6
Your Stories / Ball-Pit
« Last post by Icydice on 11:55:29 AM 08/15/18 »
Young Max stood at the entrance of the playroom. Before him was an entire area full of loud and belligerent children running and screaming in every direction. Some of them went up and down a plastic slide connected to a larger jungle gym. Giggles of joy came from all over the room, but they occurred most of all in the ball-pit. The ball-pit was a rather large tub full of multi-colored plastic orbs cluttered with small children splashing around. Max didn't particularly like other children, but his mother told him to make some friends.

Max slowly descended into the pit with a frown on his pale little face. Almost immediately after entering, a small boy tossed himself onto Max and sent him tumbling into the center of the arena. Max resurfaced with a scowl painted on his lips. It wasn't long after the initial "accident" that more kids fell back into Max. He placed his arms over his face but to no avail. He felt the children fall onto him, shoving him further and further down.

Max was frantically squirming at this point. He attempted to scream but all that exited his lips was a soft groan as the ball-pit and children sandwiched him together. He felt his face strain as his muscles tightened due to the lack of oxygen he was getting. Max was shoving and clawing at the pile above him now. The weight of the kids combined began to take its toll as an insurmountable pressure was forced onto Max. His body began to stop fighting the pressure as Max's arms and legs went limp. Their weight and the sheer number of rubber balls in the pit was preventing him from breathing, and he felt some kids knee and elbow him in the face. He could feel himself losing consciousness, he could feel himself drowning. His eyes fluttered before he completely blacked out.

A strange sensation shot through Max's body as he woke up. His head was pounding, and a high-pitched ringing sound filled his ears. He soon after rubbed his head and regained his composure, happy to be able to breathe again. He allowed his fingers to run across the surface below him. He seemed to be on a moving platform of sorts. Max sat up in a daze and looked around, confused by what he saw. He wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious. He yawned and stretched his arms out before grabbing the rail next to him. He was on an escalator slowly moving downward.

The surrounding area was different than anything Max had ever seen before. The sky was aligned with purple clouds and a pink hue. The sky was brightly lit, but there appeared to be no sun. Yet, there were stars... but with no moon. Max looked downward where the escalators were heading. He seemed to pass through a thin layer of clouds, and below those, he saw a platform. He saw colorful carnivals on it, and beautiful birds and butterflies fluttered through the air quite majestically. Before he knew it, Max's feet touched down onto the ground and he stood before the gigantic place. Everywhere he looked, his eyes were met with an abundance of beauty. Lush gardens full of pure white flowers and trees made of cotton candy substance filled his vision. Max pranced along the perimeter of the platform, taking in all the sights. Then, he stepped onto a path made from the whitest marble he had ever seen.

It wasn't long after he started skipping down the path that he came into contact with the owner of the mysterious and wonderful land. He was a rather tall man, and his skin was pale and smooth. He opened his mouth to reveal a toothy grin made up of teeth treated with the most proper of hygienic care, and the sight of the man caused Max to smile as well. He wore a red suit decorated with blue, purple, and yellow poke-dots. It was tacky, but Max looked past that and stared in awe at the man. Happiness and joy seemed to radiate off of the man and spread in every direction.

"Hello child, would you like a balloon?"

Max smiled and nodded his head politely. His mom would always give him balloons on his birthday, and it brought back fond memories. The man smiled and held out his hand. Max took it, and together they galloped along the path and towards the center of the carnival. A small carousel seemed to stand directly in the center, and so the two of them got on. Little Max had trouble at first, but the man helped lift him up onto the porcelain horse. But something was bothering Max, and although he didn't want to be rude, he also wanted to know when he would be getting his balloon.

"Hey mister, is it ok if I have my balloon now?"

The man turned his head towards Max and smiled. His elongated fingers curled around the brass pole sticking out of the horse's head and he smirked before placing his hand on top of one of the poke-dots aligning his suit. In an instant, he pulled the yellow poke-dot out of place and blew into it, inflating the rubber into a full-sized balloon.

"There, kid, you got a two for one deal. I did a magic trick and made you a balloon! Now, if you behave and have tons of fun you can get even more prizes!"

Max's eyes shifted towards the man and his eyes fluttered in surprise. More presents and gifts? His mom never got him anything except for on Christmas and on his birthday.

"Like what, sir?" Max asked the man politely.

"Oh, like, I dunno. How about ice cream, Max? You like ice cream?"

All Max could manage to do was nod his head yes. This place was only getting better and better for him. First, he got a balloon and carnival rides, and now he was getting ice cream? What more could he ask for?

"Really, ice cream? Yes sir, thank you for this!"

Max knew his mom wouldn't be proud of him for listening to strangers. It was one of the things she told him to never do, after all. Still, this was a nice stranger. Max didn't think he was a bad guy trying to hurt him. Perhaps if Max was older he would understand that looks can be incredibly deceiving. But the pull of the carnival and the promise of sweets made him forget about his mother's warning, and so he followed the man hand-in-hand deeper into the carnival.

"Excuse me, mister, is it ok if I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Max, anything at all," the man said with a toothy grin on his face.

"How is this place so huge and colorful?" Max asked. Although he was just a small boy, he was still curious as to how something so impossible could be real. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the perfection before him, and he needed an answer. Not out of suspicion, but out of confusion.

"You see, Max, this place is always so bright and happy because it's fueled by the happiness and joy of the world. That joy acts like a battery here, and soon you can help this world be even brighter and more perfect! I can tell you're a good child, Max. I know for a fact that the rest of the children would be excited to have your joy help fuel theirs."

Max stopped for a moment. Other children? He hadn't seen any other kids since he stepped into the carnival. No... he hadn't seen anyone but the man.

"What do you mean by other children, sir?" Max inquired.

"Oh, the children in the ball-pit of course. All the ball-pits in the world in fact. This place is solely responsible for, well, making them fun you could say."

Max nodded his head and proceeded with the man towards a tall building. He could see things poking out of the roof of the building and heading upwards. They looked to be tubes of some sort, with strange things in them. Colors appeared to be flowing through the tubes. Max couldn't tell whether they were liquid or gas, but he didn't mind. As long as he would get his ice cream he would be pleased.

As the man lead Max into the building, the first thing Max noticed was that the entire room they had entered was completely empty. No furniture, no paintings, no television. Well, maybe it hadn't been empty. Upon second inspection, Max saw what appeared to be exactly what he was hoping for. An ice cream machine was in the corner of the room. It was a soft-serve machine. The man motioned for Max to approach the machine and gave him a plastic cup and a spoon to hold the delicious frozen treat in. Max was in front of the machine and stared at the dials and buttons of it. He reached towards it, and then stopped. Something washed over him that prevented him from pouring the ice cream in his cup.

Something deep within him told him to drop the cup and run far, far away. It was because at that moment he felt an overbearing sense of dread. The entire time he had been in the joyful world he felt safe and happy. But something about the man and the ice cream and that moment was different from the rest of the world. He didn't know how to describe it other than a change in atmosphere. It felt as if in the world and happiness and joy he was currently in, there was malicious intent within the man and the delicious sweet before him.

Max turned back and saw the man behind him. His toothy grin was now replaced with a slightly annoyed look as he told Max to fill the cup.

"Come on, Max. I thought you liked ice cream. That's why we're here, right? To enjoy ourselves and have fun!"

Max wouldn't budge. There was no way he was going to eat the ice cream. His arms started to quiver and he withdrew from the machine. The man's expression changed again. This time, however, it was one of frustration. He placed one hand on Max's shoulder and used the other to grab his arm. He squeezed tightly, and his voice was different. The previously cheerful tone he once held was replaced with anger. His teeth were clenched, his veins were starting to become more noticeable through his head.

"Listen here, Max, listen when I'm speaking to you. Do you want the rest of the kids in the ball-pit to have a bad time just because you wouldn't eat ice cream? I'm trying to help you enjoy yourself, and as a result, you'll help the kids up there have the time of their lives. But no, you'd rather be a loser. Do you want to be known for being a disappointment, Max? Do you want to be known as a loser?"

Tears began to roll down Max's face as the man squeezed harder on his arm. A red imprint began to form on his forearm, as tears continued to roll down the young boy's face. He tried to yank himself away from the man, but with each pull, his grip only tightened. After using his small size to wiggle free from the man's grasp, he ran towards the doors he entered the building from. He pulled on them, only to find the doors locked. Max looked back at the man. He stood there, laughing at Max as he screamed and pleaded. His efforts were futile though, and the man began making his way towards him. Max scanned the room through his tear-drenched eyes and saw it. In the opposite corner of the room was a door. Getting to his feet, he made a mad dash past the man and toward the door. The man made no attempt to stop him as he burst through the door and into the room. And upon entering it, the young boy let out a scream that echoed throughout the whole carnival.

Max saw their bodies dangling in the air loosely. Children, dozens, maybe hundreds of them hung by wires and tubes strapped to various parts of their body. Their bodies were colorless. Grey, leathery skin covered them, and their malnourishment reached the point where their ribs protruded and pushed their skin near breaking point. The life was drained out of their eyes, and yet their chests sunk in and out. They were alive, although they were better off dead. Max could feel his heart smashing against his ribs, and for a second he felt as if it were going to burst through them. Turning around, he saw the man at the door. His toothy grin was back again, but this time it was for different reasons. Max stepped backward and into the entanglement of kids who swung from the ceiling. The man followed after him, and they both made their way through the grey children, the man hot on his trail.

Max could hear the man only ten or so feet behind him. He was stronger and faster than Max, moving through the bodies with ease. Max knew he had to do something and fast. Thoughts raced through his mind, but in his panic, he somehow found a moment of clarity to think. The children's feet were only a foot above the floor, and with Max's height, he could drop down and view the surrounding area. He got down on his stomach and saw the man's feet moving towards his direction. He silently crawled in the opposite direction and did a loop around the man before standing back to his feet. He made his way towards the door he had entered the room from. He knew that if only he could exit and make his way towards the escalators that he would be safe. And so he waded through the bodies and towards the door. He ran through it and was soon in the ice cream room. The door that was locked was made of glass, and although he didn't have the time to break through it before, perhaps the man's wild goose hunt would buy him time.

Max began to kick the glass of the door harder and harder as the glass cracked inch by inch. He knew the man had heard him because the sound of footsteps was now coming in his direction. He kicked and kicked, and soon the glass was almost shattered. The sound of footsteps was at the door across the room now, and with one last attempt Max kicked through the glass and climbed through the small opening. He started running away from the building, only looking back once he was about fifty yards away. He saw the man bend and contort his body to fit himself through the child-sized hole in the door. Even from a long distance away, Max could hear the cracking of bones and the twisting of joints. They almost seemed to echo through the world he was in.

The man was chasing after him again now, his long legs traveling faster and farther than little Max's legs were capable of carrying him. Max looked up at the sky, the once purplish clouds now turned grey. The whole landscape was having its color sucked out of it and replaced with grey. The same grey as the children he had seen. Carnival rides and decorations crumbled into dust as the man yelled from behind Max.

"This is what this world turns into when a child's joy isn't put to good use. Is this really what you want, Max? Do you want this world to burn?"

Max didn't look back, he just kept running. To think that all the ball-pits in the world were fueled by this place. It was spread out just enough to take children away, but not so widespread that it caused the closure of restaurant play areas and other places with the pits. The Ferris wheel fell off of its hinges and crashed down onto the ground below it. The carousel horses were charred black as if they had been burned, and the rides ceased movement. The air was filthy and filled with smog, and the flower beds and gardens died, leaving behind withering vegetation and chipped wooden fences rather than the painted ones Max had seen upon entering. But Max held onto hope because in the distance he could see the escalator, and he heard the kids in the sky playing in the pit.

The man was gaining on Max, and with every step, Max grew more and more tired. What started out as a 50-yard head start was now only a 20-foot distance, but Max was determined to avoid the fate the other kids met. He only had ten more yards until he was upon the escalator. He was so close to the railing that he could extend his arm and touch it. He felt the hot breath of the man in the suit behind him, and with that Max lunged onto the escalator. He felt the man's lanky fingers wrap around his ankle and pull. Max looked back and saw the man. His entire appearance had changed. His suit was stained and tattered, and the previously bright colors were dull. His hair was neat before but was now a greasy mess of white. His skin was deteriorating and rotting, and he smelled of death and disease. He was showing Max what the world would look like without the joy and creativity of children. How it fell apart and plunged into darkness and decay.

Max was more determined than ever to get back to his world. He reared up his other foot and stomped down on the man's hand, crushing it between his shoe and the hard metal escalator step. The man screamed out in pain and looked up in Max, his face full of hunger and Malice.

"You can't escape, Max! I'll have your spirit and your energy, and you'll help fuel this world just like the rest of the kids!"

Max reared up his foot and kicked the man directly in the eye, sending him tumbling down the steps and into the world below. In a hurry, Max raced up the steps and towards the heavens. He only looked down when he was near the top of the escalator, only to see the man at the very bottom. The world was back to its usual colorful look, and the man waved at Max from below. Although he wasn't sure, Max knew that the man had the same toothy grin as he always had. Looking back up at the sky, he ascended past the clouds and felt the texture of the plastic orbs. He heard the sound of kids playing in the pit, and he made his way upwards to the top.

Max felt the edge of the ball-pit and climbed out, absolutely exhausted. He watched all the swarming in the pit like a bunch of animals, ignorant of what lies below. And as he watched the kids play in the pit, he did notice one thing in particular. The pit seemed different than it had before.

He didn't know what it was. Something about the color of the balls seemed more vibrant since he last saw them.
7
Your Stories / Desire
« Last post by Icydice on 11:53:46 AM 08/15/18 »
I could feel her teeth on my neck, biting down, nibbling ever so softly. The stars illuminated the night sky. The blood pumped quickly through my veins and stimulated a rush of adrenaline which coursed through my body. Her white gown and pale face gave her a ghastly appearance. But the connection I felt with the girl was the first of its kind that I had felt for what seemed to be an eternity. Ever since I had been stranded on this island with nothing but the clothes on my back, I have had to live off the land, without another soul to accompany me. She crawled on top of me, staring into my eyes with hers. They too gleamed, just as the stars did, and the light reflecting from her bright blue pupils was the most mesmerizing sight I had ever seen. She pressed her teeth against my neck slightly harder, and then unexpectedly pulled away. She brushed her luscious brown hair back and smiled.

"Oh you poor soul, stranded on this inescapable island with naught a friend to appreciate you. How does it feel now, to have one such as I to appreciate your magnificence? How does it feel to know the marks of love which I hath brought upon you tonight, and for many moons further?"

I looked up at her. From my viewpoint, she was the most dashing and beautiful lady I had ever seen. Perhaps her features were exaggerated within my mind, for it had been quite some time since I had laid my eyes upon a woman. I remembered waking up not long before that very moment to the sound of faint whispering, and there she was. As soon as I saw her I fell into a trance, unable to truly act on my own accord. And yet, I was enjoying myself. How could I complain about my current situation? I hadn't felt such love and compassion for the longest time.

"It feels magnificent, my lady. I thought for sure that once I was stranded here, I would never see another human being again. And yet, here I am now, before you. And now that you're here, I am content."

She seemed pleased to hear this, for her eyes widened and a strange purring sound emitted from her throat. She placed the palm of her hand against my chest and closed her eyes, seemingly sensing my heartbeat. I could feel my body transcending any feeling I had ever felt before. A warm sensation surrounded my entire body, and I couldn't help but close my eyes once more. I felt her lips against my shoulder, firmly yet softly pressing against my skin. Where did she come from? How did she get here? Who was she? What did I care? She gave me what I wanted, and in my eyes, she could do no wrong. Again she spoke, her voice soft and mellow. I could feel my body drift into a sensation of pleasure and comfort. The closest I could go as far as describing it would be to imagine being completely surrounded by dozens of cotton sheets and blankets, each one more welcoming and cozy than the last.

"Tell me, of all things in this universe, what is it that you desire most?"

I tried thinking. I tried to remember what I truly wanted. Did I want to go home? Did I want to escape this island and find my way back to my friends and family? I swear that I couldn't remember for the life of me.

"You... I desire you. I want you. I need you, my lady, more than anything in the universe," I said. I didn't believe my words. I couldn't believe that which I spoke then, for they weren't my thoughts. But my actions betrayed my thoughts. How could it be? I struggled to correct myself, but the warmth and comfort surrounding me restrained me from doing so. This felt wrong, and something within me knew it. The real me knew it, but the woman's beauty had put me in a trance, and I no longer represented myself. My control was slipping away.

"Then you shall receive what you desire, man," replied the woman. I could hear the slight shift in the tone of her voice. That sweet, soft melody prior to this moment sounded different. Rather, now I could hear a giddy excitement to her voice. My response had been exactly what she had hoped for, and probably what she had expected.

She clutched my hair and pulled my head upwards towards her. I tried ever so desperately to pull away, but it was to no avail. I could only nudge myself a few inches back, but no more. She placed a finger on my lip and tilted my head up with her hand, looking deep into my eyes. Her silky white skin appeared clearer and fairer than before, and her previously dull red lips now appeared to have become more colorful. I saw her open her mouth once more, revealing a row of gorgeous white teeth. She leaned in and placed them on my neck once more, sucking. It felt amazing, even better than before. But then she bit a little harder. And she continued to apply force until I could feel the skin break.

I didn't wince in pain. I didn't even react. I just stayed there, perfectly still on the ground. She pulled away once more and looked at me, lips curled in a sick smile.

"So, did you like it? Do you still desire me? Do you want more of my love," she inquired.

"Yes, don't stop. Never stop. I desire your love more than all which exists," I responded. I couldn't believe it. My voice was completely void of emotion, and lies spilled out of my mouth. I didn't want this. Again, I tried my hardest to pull away, but as soon as she glared into my eyes I stopped. The sickest, most perverted giggle erupted from within her as she went back down to my neck.

I felt her dig into my neck, applying even more force this time. I could feel the blood trickling down into her mouth. I could hear her lapping it up and returning to my neck once more, biting harder and harder. Each time she would bury her teeth into my neck, she would come back up and smile at me, asking that same question once more.

"Do you desire me more?

And each time, I would answer with the same lie, with the same monotonous voice.

"Yes, I desire more."

Perhaps, she truly did control my actions, or perhaps her seduction really did pull the inner beast within me, causing me to lose all sense of humanity and replacing it with animalistic instinct. But each time I was forced to look into those awful, yet beautiful eyes, I could only allow her entry into me once more. I saw her starting to rip chunks of flesh out of my throat, trying to reach inside fully. The blood splattered her skin and stained her dress, but oh God, how she changed. Her skin grew greyer with each droplet of my blood she consumed, and the light in her eyes dimmed as well. And each time she asked me that damn question, I could only respond in the voice and tone which I had quickly grown to despise. Even as the blood clogged my throat and began to drown out my voice, my body persisted and insisted gurgling those words.

"More."

"More."

"More."

"Please, I desire you."

And I only stopped hearing my voice once the blood drowned out my ability to speak. Her skin had darkened even further, and her dress grew filthy. Her eyes were no longer full of life. Still, her lips were red, stained with the blood she drained from my willing, yet unwilling body. Through it all, I felt the pleasure and pain intertwine, yet I knew it was wrong. Even still, I could do nothing to stop my fate, for it was never my decision to begin with. And as my eyes fluttered and closed, the final sight I saw was the woman, who now appeared to be more of a ghoul-like creature than a human. Still, she wore that same grin as she finished tearing my throat apart and feasting on my body. And then all faded to black.
8
Your Stories / Cold, Dark Places
« Last post by Abysmii on 12:34:02 AM 08/15/18 »
Bad, early writing.  Saved here from the CP Wikia CC-BY-SA requirements.

During the Cold War, the American military initiated a department known as Strategic Air Command, or SAC.  SAC’s role was command and control of strategic nuclear strike forces and reconnaissance of both remote and airborne varieties.  While many bases were set up during the early stages of the “Red Threat” under SAC, many have been repurposed or decommissioned.  One such base located in Marquette, Michigan was closed on September 30, 1995.

K.I. Sawyer Air Force Base, as it was known, in compliance with closure procedures, also declassified certain documents to the public regarding their operations during the Cold War.  Full disclosure, what I have leaked from these reports is still very much classified.  I cannot and do not guarantee your safety should you continue reading.

What the public is largely unaware of, is that K.I. Sawyer was not just an air force base, but also a listening post dedicated to long range reconnaissance.  Located at the northern tip of the US, K.I. Sawyer was an ideal location for monitoring both the movements and communications within Russian airspace over the North Pole.  Housing what was at the time most of the world’s computers and computer engineers, an entire sub-basement level was outfitted with rows of CRT radar devices. 

It also featured high-powered radio receivers collecting data from radar squadrons who patrolled the arctic wastes.  Military and civilian personnel would spend hours in that windowless room watching, listening, and waiting for a blip, or a sound, or anything across the polar region.  They would go months at a time living underground, only to return to their families for the occasional R&R.

Enclosed are select reports from and concerning Recon Officer James Logan Kroff to his commander Lieutenant George Edgewell.
August 3rd, 1954:

Lieutenant, I report that there is no radar movement within the designated sweep zone.  All quadrants are clear of any bogies and have been since 0900 hours.  I would like to lodge a personal request with all due deference, that the shifts be cut-down by at least two hours.  Most of the staff are sleep-deprived and the exhaustion can make it difficult to render accurate reports.  I myself thought I heard something during the last radar run of the Kara Sea, but it might just be the ringing in my ears.

End report.

August 10th, 1954:

Lieutenant, all sweeps show zero movement and have remained unchanged since 1100 hours.  However, we have picked up audio. You may recall I mentioned possible radio activity over the Kara Sea in my last report.  It was very brief, muddled, and of generally bad quality, but it sounded like the Russian word for, “advancing”.  I don’t want to indicate any certainty of the translation at this point, but per your request I am reporting everything that’s picked up.  It took me extra time to make sense of the audio, therefore, I would like to reinstate my request for reduced hours.

End report.

August 14th, 1954:

Lieutenant, as you heard earlier today, we had a single bogy appear over what we now confirmed as the Tikhaya Bay Russian Air Force base at 1835 hours.  How the Reds even got planes to that installation is beyond me.  We haven’t confirmed what type of aircraft it was yet, but we did receive additional audio broadcasts.  They were similar to the previous transmission, but have a longer duration.  The only reliable words I could make from it were, “advancing, expect retaliation”.  Sir, I don’t want to rouse Command on a false flag, but it sounds like the Ruskies are planning something very big and intentional.  Lastly, I urge you to cut our hours, I’m starting to hear blips in my sleep.

End report.

August 21st, 1954:

Lieutenant, before I begin, I would like to apologize for using slang and inappropriate language in my last report.  I understand the official nature of this correspondence and it will not happen again.  However, I would like to cite the working conditions here as the cause of my unprofessionalism.  We have confirmed that the bogy is a radar craft, similar to our own.  We believe Tikhaya Bay is also a recon site.  We can only assume the Russians are mimicking our operations over the North Pole.  We noticed three additional blips around 1900 hours on the coast of the bay.  It might be ships or submersible craft.  Additionally, with increased activity, I picked up more audio.  It reads as follows: “Enemy advancing, engage with caution, expect retaliation”.  Sir, I know I am not privy to our ship movements, but I’m unaware of any operations in the Kara Sea other than Radar Squadrons.  Lastly, Sir, this audio wasn’t a translation, it was in English.  Please advise.

End report.

August 30th, 1954:

Lieutenant, I hate to break protocol, but I can’t see straight or trust my ears anymore.  I’m seeing dozens of blips on the radar and I’m hearing… disconcerting transmissions.  There used to be coherent sentences, but now it’s panicked yells and weird interference most of the time.  These readings don’t even make any sense, why would the enemy send so many ships to circle their own air force base and then disappear?  I know our next scheduled leave is in October, but I’m fucking tired, sir!  I don’t even know if these reports are accurate or useful anymore.  It doesn’t help that you never come down here, where am I even sending these reports to?!  I haven’t seen God damn daylight in a month!  Please let us leave!

End report.

September 4th, 1954:

It’s not the Russians.  It’s not them.  It’s not.  Nope, not them.  They’re dead now.  It’s something else.  Something attacked them.  The blips are all gone.  Gone.  But the radio, oh I can still hear it.  It won’t leave my brain.  Get out, get out get out.  They’re cold, they came from the cold.  They hide in the dark part of the Earth.  They go to cold, dark places and dark people.  Like this place, like this person.  There’s no windows, no sun, no light.  You keep us down here long enough and they’re bound to find us.  Bound to get through.  Oh my god, Carol, I’m so sorry.  I won’t see her again.  You kept us down here, it’s your fault, it's your fault you evil son of a *****

Doctor Geoffrey Clark’s medical report.

Patient: Recon Officer James Logan Kroff.

September 5th, 1954

The patient was found dead at his desk at 1945 hours.  He had stayed up past his shift’s end while writing his regular report to his commanding officer.  His fellow team members had noted severe insomnia, paranoia, irritability, and unstable behavior developing in him over the past month.  While most of the crew also had signs of sleep deprivation, none shared the extreme symptoms Mr. Kroff exhibited.  When Mr. Kroff was located, the blood vessels in his ears, nose, and eyes had ruptured.  Later, an autopsy revealed a massive cranial aneurysm and resulting internal hemorrhaging.  It is my opinion that pressure had suddenly and violently built up in the patient’s brain before erupting and causing a fatal stroke.  The cause, however, is still unknown.  Along with the report was found a tape of recorded audio.  Colleagues to Mr. Kroff stated that they appeared to be transmissions from the Radar Squadrons, stitched together over the past month.  I have enclosed a copy of the recording only for professional medical, investigative, or forensic review.

End report.

Copyright Abysmii 2015
9
Your Stories / Relief
« Last post by Abysmii on 12:30:20 AM 08/15/18 »
Bad, early writing.  Saved from CP Wikia's CC-BY-SA requirements.

The repetitive bass pulsated from inside the club. Somewhat muted, it provides a fitting backdrop for the business to come in this back alley I call “The Bazaar.” Very few people enter The Bazaar, as very few know of it. Only one item is peddled here. My item. “Relief”. Before you ask, I’m not selling heroin or meth. Those drugs harm people; they promise euphoria and ultimately deliver pain and suffering. I don’t sell prescription drugs either, those pills destroy more people than illegal substances, believe it or not. No, what I sell can’t be found in a pharmacy or on a street corner. I deal in an absolute. I disburse a release.

You might be questioning why I deal in an alley behind a club if my product is so revolutionary, to which I say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” The shadows allow for uninterrupted dealings, and the staff doesn't seem to mind that I'm here. They probably think I'm distributing ecstasy. But I’m not looking to hook anyone or create a dependent consumer base, and what I charge is only enough to recoup my expenses needed to create more Relief. Each client I have is fairly treated and I am in turn equally compensated.

But enough about me, let’s focus on Jeff. Jeff is a lawyer. Not one of those idealized litigators you see on TV who attends one trial a week and then has six days to drink and sleep around. I mean a real lawyer; one who spends twenty hours a day researching case law in a mill to foreclose on someone’s house. A tool to the banks and to his billable hours. Jeff is tired. Jeff is stressed out and demoralized from his job. Jeff needs Relief. He arrives punctually at 9:30 PM, bitching about his boss and his job, explaining about how guilty he feels for forcing debtors out of their homes all day. I feel for him, I really do. He hands me the money and I slip him Relief. Jeff’s despair quickly turns to excitement. He stares at the sky, billions of stars both far away and at his fingertips simultaneously. He jumps for joy, catching imaginary suns, arranging them in funny shapes, laughing to himself. Jeff has completely forgotten about the lives he’s ruined, the homes he’s broken, and the families he’s shattered. Jeff wanders down the alley, away from the noise and the squalor.

After some patient waiting, Joyce arrives at midnight. Joyce is a humanitarian worker. She spends most of her waking hours rebuilding homes and communities down in Tijuana, where poverty and violence have all but decimated the populace. Joyce feels defeated and depressed. Every day she puts all of her effort into fighting the system, only to see little to nothing change. For each house she builds, a cartel burns another one down. Joyce greets me with tears, begging for some Relief. I supply her the necessary dosage and take the small compensation. Almost immediately, Joyce’s tears are gone. She dances and frolics with imaginary children in a field of luxurious flowers. She experiences the depthless cornucopia of wealth and indulges the impoverished families who feast and celebrate through the night. She is no more aware of the crushing tragedy occurring across the border than she is of the homeless man half-dead by the adjacent dumpster. Joyce exits shortly after.

Last is Terry who shows up at 5 AM. Poor Terry. Terry is a unique fellow, transgendered, as they call it these days. Terry is a good person, but Terry’s family is very religious. There is no room for someone of Terry’s disposition in God’s house. So Terry now lives alone, trying to make sense of the world and where Terry might fit in. Such an existential crisis is hard for Terry. The cuts on Terry’s wrists aren’t enough to provide relief. But I can. Terry gobbles down the serving with reckless abandon. Terry doesn’t dance as Joyce did, or grope at the air as Jeff did. Terry just sits, surrounded by all the loved ones and friends who previously didn’t understand Terry’s situation. Life is simple and good, finally, for a misunderstood individual. Terry cries a little bit, then wanders off down the alleyway. My night’s work now finished, I return home and turn on the morning news.

Shock and horror today as three individuals were found dead of an apparent overdose in a back alley on Fourth Avenue. Each had traces of a powerful but unidentified designer drug in their bodies that ultimately stopped their hearts. Police have been trying to form connections between the persons, but they all come from different walks of life and no traces of the dealer can be found. The Sheriff has announced a joint investigation with the DEA to find the culprit as soon as possible.

I’m not a chemist. I’m not a pusher. Hell, I’m not even human.

Copyright Abysmii 2015
10
Your Stories / S.B.S.
« Last post by Abysmii on 12:28:48 AM 08/15/18 »
Early writing.  Saved from the CP Wikia CC-BY-SA requirements.

Natalie Lin, City Building Inspector

Report: Inspection of two-story office building on Fourth Avenue and Ivy Street. Condemned for health risks of former business occupants.

Transcript of phone call with Craig Trevors, Human Resources:

[phone ringing]

Craig: Hello?

Natalie: Hi, Mr. Trevors, this is Natalie from the City Health and Human Services Department, Building Division. I’m calling in regards to our 4:00 PM appointment.

Craig: Oh yes, Natalie. Hi.
Natalie: Is this is a good time to go over what happened?

Craig: Sure, just let me sit down and gather my notes… Okay go ahead.

Natalie: So tell me what business you were running at the location?

Craig: Well I was just in HR, but we all worked for a real estate firm. There were about 150 employees, most of them staff and realtors.

Natalie: So you didn’t deal with any chemicals, food, or hazardous substances?

Craig: No, ma’am. Just your typical paperwork and computers.

Natalie: You mentioned in our last call that people came to you to report their ailments?

Craig: That’s true, all sick days and illnesses have to go through me per company policy.

Natalie: Tell me about that. Tell me when it started, what was reported, the frequency, everything you can remember.

Craig: Whoo boy. Alright, I’ll start from the beginning. We had moved the company into this larger building about four months back. The first incident occurred two weeks in. Cathy came to me and said she was having a pretty bad migraine for no apparent reason. I asked her about allergies, what she had eaten for lunch, the standard questions. She looked to be in quite a lot of pain, so I doubt she was faking, but between the two of us we couldn’t figure out the cause.

Natalie: Did she have a history of migraines?

Craig: No. In fact, none of the cases I’m going to tell you about had much of a history.

Natalie: Interesting, please continue.

Craig: Well, I sent Cathy home and made a note in her file. A couple days later, three other employees, including Cathy, started complaining of migraines. Like Cathy, none of them had a history and I couldn’t pin down the cause. It was at that point we had a professional come in and check the vents and air quality.

Natalie: But nothing was found?

Craig: Correct. The entire building except for my office and the management doesn't have windows that open and uses recycled air from the vents, so we figured maybe that had something to do with it. It was quite strange as management and myself were fine. But even more strange was that the migraines stopped shortly afterward.

Natalie: So everything went back to normal?

Craig: Not at all. A couple days later, Jeff and Lauren came to me, separately, and reported dizziness and blurred vision. I asked if they had been staring at their computer screens for too long, but that didn’t make sense because everyone worked on a computer there.

Natalie: Why is it important that both of them came to you?

Craig: Well… shit. I’m not supposed to tell people this, company policy and all that, but Jeff and Lauren were… intimately involved. Something we warn against, but technically isn’t a cause for termination or concern. But… if they were together and had the same symptoms….

Natalie: You think it might have been an STD?

Craig: To my embarrassment, yes. But they both assured me that they were clean.

Natalie: So what does this have to do with the eventual condemnation?

Craig: You see, both Jeff and Lauren were sent home that day. The next day they were still having dizzy spells. And… they both fell down different flights of stairs. Jeff was bruised, but Lauren broke a number of ribs and an arm. After that, a dozen employees starting reporting dizziness. And umm….

Natalie: Craig?

Craig: Nausea, a lot of people began getting very nauseous at work. It got pretty dire, with all the vomiting. Management was frustrated at losing tons of workers to sick days each week, and no one knew what the cause was.

Natalie: And that’s when everyone cleared out for the condemnation?

Craig: Unfortunately, no. I wish we had left sooner. Management moved almost everyone to part time, which helped a little, but not much. The entire staff was reporting headaches, nausea, dizziness, and… other symptoms.

Natalie: Craig, I need you to fully disclose anything you have that is pertinent to this inspection.

Craig: I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that… people started hearing things.

Natalie: That’s not so strange, people hallucinate when undergoing extreme illness.

Craig: You’re right, but do entire groups of people hallucinate the same thing?

Natalie:... Please elaborate.

Craig: Everyone kept telling me they heard sounds coming from the walls. Weeping, cries of pain. Then, they reported voices talking to them. Asking them, “Why?”

Natalie: “Why?” What?

Craig: I haven’t a clue, ma’am. They just heard, ”Why?” repeatedly for a week. Then, Celeste saw something on the ground floor by the vending machines. She never told anyone what it was, as far as I know, but it sent her screaming out of the building. At that point everyone had had enough and stormed out. Management couldn’t do much and got temporary office space a few blocks over.

Natalie: And have there been any problems?

Craig: Everyone is shaken up, but the symptoms are gone.

Natalie: Mr. Trevors, are you aware of this building’s former history?

Craig: It used to be a boarding house, right?

Natalie: The main floors, yes. But the bottom floor was a funeral parlor with a small crematorium. This was back in the 50’s, you see, when health and safety codes were in their infancy, and it’s very possible old cremains were being circulated through the vents. I believe that to be the cause of your problems.

Craig: But ma’am, I told you, the vents were checked and nothing bad was found in the air. Also, we’ve all been on the bottom floor, anything left over from the funeral parlor was cleared out long ago. It’s just vending machines now.

Natalie: Really? I see the old furnace here right now. Plain as… plain as... day.

Craig: Wait, you’re in the building?! That place isn’t safe!

Natalie: Where… the stairs… Craig?

Craig: Natalie! Either get out or at least get to an office with a window!

Natalie: No… please… *sounds of vomiting*.

Craig: Natalie? Natalie!

[phone call terminated]

Natalie Lin was found dead from a mixture of extreme dehydration and a fatal fall down a flight of stairs. Her superior ruled that her cause of death and the related symptoms of the previous inhabitants was an extreme case of Sick Building Syndrome. A phenomenon that occurs when humans spend too much time in buildings with recycled air. The case was closed without further explanation. To date, only one person has died from Sick Building Syndrome.

Copyright Abysmii 2015
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