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2023-11: Warosu is now out of extended maintenance.

/lit/ - Literature

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3113191 No.3113191 [Reply] [Original]

FLASH FICTION

The last number of your post indicates your theme. Write for 5 – 10 minutes and post your results.

1. Stream of consciousness.
2. WWII
3. Dystopian.
4. Noir.
5. Addiction.
6. Crime.
7. Western.
8. Future.
9. Assassin.
0. Space.

Doubles: Include Cthulhu
Trips: Include sex.

>> No.3113194

i've never written anything before

>> No.3113193

Rolling

>> No.3113198

ok

>> No.3113200

Alright, but I'll keep it really short.

>> No.3113204

Christopher Rolan

>> No.3113208

>>3113193

I returned home to find a masked man sitting on my bed. He wore a rubber chicken mask and held a .44 magnum.

“Can I help you?”

I lay on the ground, drowning in a pool of my own blood. He stepped over my curled body leaving a cold pizza behind.
“The Pizza Place had my phone number. They were coming to kill me.” These words, scrawled across the cardboard in blood. He killed me before I could him.
What will they think of me? Dying on my bedroom floor without alerting my insurance, cleaning or funeral associates.
Psychedelic house music vibrated through the floor boards. My spine danced with the rhythm and the bullet lodged itself further.

>> No.3113207

>>3113198

Mars was always there, smiling down on us, the red planet; a hundred years ago I remember watching it from my backyard door, through the lens of my father's telescope, mesmerized.

We were, of course, invited to the parties when the first ships made contact. We watched them on the screens, boxlike, descending like rain on the brown-red surface, the first of many. We astronomers trickled in to the party, mingling. The engineers among us cheered and clapped, but we watched in silence.

The food and drink were ash in my mouth, no more full of life than the handfuls of dirt that the colonists picked up and waved at the camera, for posterity. No more clouds to obscure the surface, no more mysteries to be unpacked. I became what I am - did what I did - for the dream of a red planet, but I knew that in a short century it would gleam as blue as ours.

So tonight I will go home and lay down, fill my vessel with the waters of life, open my veins, and watch the clear liquid slowly gleam red.

>> No.3113211

>>3113200
I think I have about five minutes left.
Of course, I knew this from the start. Ever since the government introduced the radical space exploration program for the clinically suicidal, I was happy that I'd finally be worth something. I'd be able to do something with my life, even though my entire family was gone. They've sent me for into the darkness of space, promising that my work will not be forgotten. I had enough food and water for about three months... I stopped eating two months in. Any data collected by me was to be instantly sent back to earth... Though the signal broke up about a month in. And now, the only thing left was the wait. I was as alone as a man could physically be, yet it didn't feel different to the years after the fire. When you've lost everyone, you lose any motivation to start anew. There's always someone. Always.
Really, I was already dead as they propelled me into space. My funeral was held that same day and since I joined the program, my grave would be left in peace for years to come.
Even though it would end up empty.
About a minute of oxygen left.
I waste a few last thoughts on my loved ones, but I can't deny one thing: The stars have slowly given me a new reason to live. I've never felt this before. There is purpose to my life, and I should use it as long as I still

>> No.3113213

>>3113211
AND THEN HE DED

>> No.3113215

>>3113194
A moth absent minded distinguished the only source of light in the room, hiding the layer of filth that had accumulated throughout. On a decrepit stool sat a surly man; aged prematurely from the undue stress of his past few months. In his mind repeated the same irritating thought that had plagued him repeatedly; he ruminated and furrowed his brow. Any sense of worth earned through his past successes seemed a distant memory; that this mystery alluded his grasp crushed his ego flat.

>> No.3113218

>>3113215
...Go on.

>> No.3113219

Rawling

>> No.3113220

>>3113215
oh god, those errors

>>3113218
Ok, i'll give it another 10 minutes

>> No.3113222

Roll.

>> No.3113231

>>3113222

Knight takes King takes Pawn takes Queen.
The gunfire began again, but now was no time for fighting. No was only time for chess.
We had been at war for months but I was not going to let him win, French or no French.
The table shook and its pieces fell. We readjusted the table, each holding our respective pistols, each ready to fire at the first sign of deceit. I moved my Knight. He took my pawn. I took his Queen.
When he jumped up the admirals screams of anger drowned the ambient explosions. Kicking the table, he drew his gun demanding a rematch.
I sat down and reassembled the table.
And we played.

>> No.3113251

>>3113191

Bump.

>> No.3113255

>>3113220
A moth absent-mindedly distinguished the only source of light in the room, hiding the layer of filth that had accumulated throughout. On a decrepit stool sat a surly man; aged prematurely from the undue stress of his past few months. In his mind repeated the same irritating thought that had plagued him repeatedly; he ruminated and furrowed his brow. Any sense of worth earned through his past successes seemed a distant memory; that this mystery eluded his grasp crushed his ego flat.

His stomach flinched from hunger; he hadn’t eaten in at least a week, yet food was the last thing he was considering. Momentarily, his thoughts wandered to a seemingly distant past before his existence had dissolved into bitter anguish. He lamented for a split-second, but any notion of self-pity quickly evolved in self-loathing. A sharp knock rang at his door; he started so abruptly so as to topple toward the ground, only picking himself up at the last moment. He dashed toward his visitor; unlocking the door with great haste: there was only one person it could be. Meeting his gaze was a shell of a man, his skin so pale as to appear almost translucent. The visitor brought with him the stench of the real world and appeared vilely as to send shivers down his spine, “Come in.” He uttered excitedly.

>> No.3113257

>>3113251

I am a slave. Just like the rest of them. A slave to conformity and to meaningless consumer products, good and services, taxes and elections. I can’t escape. I want to. I need to. Be I cannot. The system does not allow it. The system of control. Television, radio, newspapers, the internet, friends, family the whole boat load of sensitive bullshit. I must destroy it. Tear it down. Rip it apart. Rip it to absolute shreds. Annihilate its very essence and spit on its unholy grave. Burn the ashes, feed them to dogs, burn the dogs, eat the bones of the dogs then fuck the ashes of their long lost relatives. Nothing must remain. Nothing but hate.

>> No.3113262

>>3113219
Oops forgot about the thread

Most people think of assassins as being masters of disguise, clad perhaps in garish full-body garb of a particularly exotic- oriental even- flavor. Few associate the unusual profession with corporate espionage; bosses instead have sudden heart attacks, strokes, fatal arrhythmias. As the cliche goes, they're fine one second and gone the next; but of course that's stress, or one-two-many whiskeys a night, or just misfortune. Statisticians, however, would find the frequency of small indentations on these victims neck, no bigger than the tip of a dart and often unobserved by even rigorous medical examiners, cause for alarm.

>> No.3113265

>>3113257
lol'd edgy bro

>> No.3113267

I was actually hoping to get some input on

>>3113207

This is basically my natural style when writing fiction but I worry that it's too overwrought? I'd like some opinions if it's not too much trouble

please respond

>> No.3113268

posting in a cool thread

>> No.3113283

>>3113267

I liked everything about your story accept the ending. It was a little too depressing for my taste but still a great few paragraphs.

>> No.3113296

Fuck that. I'm not doing Dystoian again.

>> No.3113293

>>3113191

Rollan.

>> No.3113304

>>3113208
Have you been playing Hotline Miami, by any chance?

>> No.3113315

>>3113191
rollink!

>> No.3113322

>>3113304

Just finished it.

>> No.3113338

>>3113315

George was a frail man with greying hair and a thin smile. As a youth he had aspired to be a great artist or musician. His heroes were men of integrity and solemn fortitude.

Today he sits, much like the day before, in his large oak chair of his studio. His desk positioned near a large window overlooking a landscaped garden outside of his mansion. It is here he stays and ponders his deeds, and here he hopes his death will find him.

Opening the left lower drawer of his desk George shuffles some papers inside. Simultaneously he reaches under a paperweight to grasp a small gold key. Inside the drawer is exposed a keyhole in the bottom.
From inside he extracts a syringe, belt, and a series of small vials.

George fills the syringe with the sweet nectar he yearns as he ties his arm with the belt and grips the end of the brown leather in his teeth. George flexes his thin veined arm several times, each weaker than before. In a swift motion he injects his love deep into himself and releases the belt in his teeth.

In a moment he will remember again, he will return to his glorious realm once more.

>> No.3113343

I'll roll just to see what I get, but I will not write, because I suck.

>> No.3113377

>>3113255
In the light, the gaunt features of the visitor were exceedingly noticeable: his nose sat flat upon his face, a thinning tuft of patchy brown hair receded atop his head and two bulging eyes completed his anomalous complexion. For a moment both men gazed; unsure of who would speak first, the visitor wheezed and then begun softly but with great vigour: “this very morning, sitting outside Devski’s tavern I was privy to a violent dispute. The unfortunate opponent was knocked unconscious at my feet, after the rabble had dispersed I was able to rifle through his possessions, I found nothing of value, but this.” He placed a small gold watch on the table and folded piece of paper. The man beamed, he leaned forward with great nervousness. Taking hold of the watch he admired its beauty: finely adorned with intricate patterns and weighted heavily with gold, he turned it in his hand; the insignia was of a well-known jeweller.

A knot formed in his gut, amidst his dejected mind and his malnourished body began to arise a sense of hope. He lifted the paper to his eyes, and unfolded it slowly: Maxwell Street, 8:30. His heart skipped a beat; it was the location and the exact time of the event some months ago, which now consumed every facet of his reality. The man sitting beside him, whom all would find repulsive, now seemed more beneficent than Jesus himself. He quickly rummaged into his drawer, pulling out a fistful of money, which he thrust into the outstretched hand. The door closed a moment later and he was alone, although he had been from the moment his brain comprehended the note.

>> No.3113378

Let's do this.

>> No.3113380

>>3113191

Roll.

>> No.3113383

Rawll

>> No.3113384

>>3113383
reroll. I hate dystopian.

>> No.3113388

>>3113378
Time Square was alive with waves of people shuffling about, celebrating and drinking and enjoying the night. A band played on a stage, some revival of a revival, nobody really paying attention as the countdown was about to start. A man walked through the droves of people, heartily avoiding the alcohol spilling on him in any way. He finally escapes the Square just as some celebrity appeared on the Large Screen, to announce the countdown’s beginning. The man who escaped walks to a side-street and lights a cigarette, glancing at the box with the familiar symbols of the corporate world. He sighs a sigh of forgetting, and takes a long drag as he hears a chant of numbers starting at 100. The man walks to the end of the street so he can view the spectacle, but isn’t part of the crowd.

>> No.3113390

>>3113388
As 75 rolls around, he notices a strange figure walking near him, towards the crowd. He sees it is a man, with a tall and slender figure, wearing a cloak with a strange lump around the stomach. The cloaked figure drifts into the crowd, and the man realizes with growing dread that another Revolution may begin. The people are too excited at the number 20 to care that a chase is occurring around them, as the man tracks down the cloaked man. As the crowd strikes 10, the cloaked man climbs the central pavilion. The other man can’t reach the stage, and there are no stairs up. Thinking of nothing else, the man runs away from the pavilion, and as the crowd strikes 5, someone screams that the cloaked man is on the stage. People stop counting, but the ball continues to slowly dip. The man runs as far as he can, but doesn’t escape the crowd by the final number. The ball drops, and the cloaked man sets off what can only be assumed to be a bomb.

>> No.3113396

>>3113390
The last half is incongruent and repetitive, it screams teen angst and the descriptions are hollow

>> No.3113398

>>3113396
Thanks. I'm really seeing that now, if I was actually writing it I'd have thought out more.

>> No.3113402

rollin'

>> No.3113410

>>3113380

The airlock doors ripped open.

My wife turned for help. Ebony black claws gripped her helmet and pulled her away. Then I ran.

The gigantic tentacles constricted the hull of my ship. Corridors bended, warped and imploded behind me. An immense groan echoed into my bones and shook me to tears.

When I reached the control room all that remained was limbs and organs. I frantically switched and turned arbitrary dials and knobs, imitating self-destruct. The forward window was covered by tentacles all writhing and smothering. Something grabbed my leg, throwing me to the ground and pulling me through the ship.

I found myself in space, floating above my beautiful craft, watching as it gave its final breath. Only now could I finally understand the creature’s inexplicable vastness, its indescribable enormity. The entirety of its being overwhelmed all space around me. And all I could do was scream.

>> No.3113413

>>3113384
Wait. I also hate noir. One last reroll?

>> No.3113414

>>3113191
I got time to kill and a fic to fuck up.

>> No.3113434

Roll!

>> No.3113464

roll

>> No.3113467

ROLL

>> No.3113468

>>3113414
The darkness held high up in a haunting veil above the city, street light illuminating what little could be seen of the roads. Crackheads and prostitutes populated the corners, people either mingling or going about their business.

A man dressed in suspicious garb, a black trench coat and blue fedora shown through the dimly lit alley he stood in.

"So," another man spoke out, "what's up with you?"

He seemed the conversational type, a warm smile etched in his face and a glimmer of friendliness in his eye. Something, the man wearing the fedora noted, that seemed almost absent in the eyes of the lonely passersby that held dull and shattered life in their faces.

"Nothin' really." The man replied, face showing disinterest towards this conversation. "Jus' waitin' fer a fellow."

"Well, may I wait as well?" He asked. The fedora wearing man seemed callous towards his proposal.

"Sure, it ain't my time yer wastin'."

"It isn't wasteful to give company to those who seem to need it," he responded back.

"Whatevah ya may say it is, then."

They stood there, in that dank, poorly lit alley. The smiling man would try and strike up conversation, always being given small nods and curt responses, ending the topics as abruptly as they started.

Once some time had passed, the smiling man looked towards his bare wrist, then turning towards his companion.

>> No.3113469

>>3113413
Shit. Okay then, here we go.

Then crowd was thick by the time the ceremony started. It was held once a week, and attendance was mandatory. I rubbed my eyes wearily. As usual, I did not get any sleep. Not much get any rest the day before the day of the ceremonies. The worst thing about it was the suspense. Will it be my child tomorrow? Will it be me? My wife? Or maybe my friend? The ceremony was, apparently, random. It was imposed as a show of power of the conqueror. On the day of the ceremony, ten people were chosen for every five hundred. Ten lives to be snuffed out. Ten families to be thrown into grief, and ten heads to be displayed as a warning to those who might be considering rebellion.

>> No.3113470

>>3113469
I shook to attention as the ceremony came to its peak. Names were now being called. Since our district is populated by 1400 people, 28 people are to be called to public execution. The names rolled by, and on the twenty-third name, I heard my name. I was deathly afraid, a different kind of fear from the type I was used to. My wife was sick, and my child was very young. No one could possibly provide for them when I am gone. I saw the guards approaching, and I hugged my wife goodbye. My heart sank, but I could not break down now. I would not. I have not given my son much, but I wanted to give him the only thing I possibly could under the circumstances. I wanted to give him strength. I wanted to give him one final lesson. I knelt to my son and hugged him. "Son, do not cry. You have to be strong. For your mother, and for yourself, you have to find the strength to live on. You should not let them win. Live on. Find love. Do not let my death, or the death of anyone you love, hinder you. Because doing so would be showing them that their methods are right, that they have broken us." I felt the guards start to drag me apart from my son. "Live on child! Be strong! And remember that I love you." One of the guards hit my head, and my vision fractured. The world seemed to move slowly. I was thrown to my knees next to the others who had been called. I saw the head next to me roll, and I knew that I was next. I looked over to my wife and son one last time. My eyes locked with those of my son. He was not crying anymore, and he supported his mother. My heart broke then. Tears flowed from my eyes, and I smiled. My strong boy.


Sorry. It's shit.

>> No.3113471

>>3113468
"So, who is it you are waiting for?"

"Some man. I got'a deal I need ta close." The man responded, keeping a wary eye on this peculiar stranger. "Nothin' fer ya ta worry about."

"Sounds to me like shady business... oh, before I forget again, may you tell me the time? I seem to have forgotten my watch back at my flat," said the man in a light, cheery tone.

The stoic man gave him a wary glance before checking his wrist.

"The time's ten'o--" A quick flash and a knife entered in his chest, a direct stab to his heart.

For once, a readable emotion was portrayed in his demeanor. Shocked, gasping in pain, he straggled to maintain balance, looking towards the other man.

His smile never faded, the smiling seemingly enjoying watching the other struggle to maintain balance and then falling backwards on the wet floor.

"Seems to me you really must learn who you make deals with, pal. At least know what they look like." The smiling man, grabbing the knife, twisted his hand as the stoic gave his last breath.

"Too bad some lessons are learnt the hard way. Oh, well."

Having pulled out and pocketed the knife, he checked the corpse's pockets for a brown bag, finding it in his coat pocket.

"Seems people these days never smile any more. Not even a tiny smirk. I wonder what it would take to bring a change to that, to show them emotion. Guess it could be something truly great. Or truly horrifying. We'll see," the smiling man mused as he whistled to himself, strolling towards the street and making his way back to wherever.

The streetlight flickered, casting shadows on the man lying in his pool of blood. A hint of color in the grey alleys.
---
Fuck, I hope that's even at least readable.

>> No.3113473

ROLLin

>> No.3113474

>>3113471
It is. I liked it.

>> No.3113475

>>3113474
Dempsey rolling.

>> No.3113477

Rolling for Assassin.

>> No.3113478

>>3113474
Thanks, first time posting in this board. I already note some errors in my writing. It's not great, but I learn.
I like it here, nice and peaceful compared to other boards. I think I'll stay.

>> No.3113484

>>3113475
Are rerolls allowed?

>> No.3113488

>>3113484

Sure.

>> No.3113495

rollan for today's nano story

>> No.3113500
File: 1.50 MB, 350x219, 1350724771069.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
3113500

rollin

>> No.3113501

Roll

>> No.3113618

Rollin with the homies

>> No.3113624

>>3113618
‘You know that I.R.I.S. could be hearing in on us right now, don’t you?’
‘I don’t want to think about it. If they were spying on us, they would have done something by now.’
‘Or maybe they think we’re harmless, just kids fooling around with something much bigger than them.’
‘They may be right, too. Worth a shot though, right?’
‘I’m not so sure anymore.’

>meh

>> No.3113647

(noir)

People continue to shock as the Earth winds down. I had taken it for granted we would retreat quietly into sheet metal shacks and lay on our warm beds of cable, soaking into population matrixes as humanity shrivelled and ejected onto distant, fertile lands.

For at least a few days I had expected to join in hoping my ticket came up. I was less surprised than ashamed when the body turned up: rent by flesh struggle, trailed by blood escape, carrying the small victory of incomplete code, the alpha version of the ongoing selection process; a corpse of dissent I had labeled gridlocked by City and State.

We exhumed it from a crevice of Vapor St., in slums where the streetlights were still prototypes, their sun-siphoning causing an immediate, dry chill in the day. To outsiders the block was colloquially Vapor for the condensed breaths, to insiders for the den plumes: if Police was slow on the uptake, it was out of reasonable confidence.

>> No.3113679
File: 8 KB, 220x180, tn_1235245586270.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
3113679

>>3113647

>> No.3113727

>>3113191

Bumping this thread back to life.

>> No.3113979

>>3113679
haha i saw 'wow' and was so excited

>> No.3114033

Posting.

>> No.3114065

Rolling joints in my room

>> No.3114266

rollin

>> No.3114270

I smoke instead of buying food

>> No.3114271

roll bounce

>> No.3114291

Rollins!

>> No.3114294

rolling

>> No.3114297

http://puzzle.comoj.com/

>> No.3114301

rollan

>> No.3114311

>>3114271

why do they keep asking me those things. i need a grocer to tend to my bannister if i hadn't of brought down that piece of tin foil christ might've made it through another ten years I've been told that there's only a liver inside a drunk but that's not their fault or was it mom? must be pictures, pictures of ghosts that i saw inside a torn magazine at the doctor's office what did he look like anyway?
This isn't tired i should work out. they asked me if i lift. do i lift what does that even mean ghosts stuck in that movie theatre they wont let me watch the old movie reels anymore that got caught in the bannister at Missuss Hutchins house on the 14th of November last year when Janice broke her son's arm it wasn't that the year is wrong am i hungry what does a goat have to do with spakerphone? Why cant i borrow underwear horses that believe in Christianity, did i do this right am i doing this right probably too structured stuck inside a marble maze with pecans as an arrangement at aunt Regina's funeral two nights ago when i had this box should there be a caper?
I don't think I'm doing this right she needs to be on her back want to see some dick my friend and his pebbles why pebbles Mario Van Peebles still cant find any work for the factory John's still stuck out there a phone cal to his wife she wanted to see some dick i cant do this I call and make amends burn the barn to cinders no they'll out you in the funny farm if Chevy Chase can't get it up why should i be bothered by that smell from the rat hole many times this drink sure it wasn't an old bag of chimes.

>> No.3114318

rollin'

>> No.3114320

Rollin!

>> No.3114335

>>3114301

It's good that there are plants. Otherwise there'd be no goddamn air to breathe for nobody. All that there green stuff 'round me keeping the air in the air. There's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven eight nine ten trees
hundred thousand million little green clyrophills
the numbers are getting so big it's outta control!
I am floating back in my memory, to the long (but really never!) forgotten moments of happy ignorance I used to tell you al about every other day. The numbers were also there, but you wouldn't listen, no matter how many sweet, sweet promises we made to each other on the white Willar peaks in the godawfully cold winter of the new '43.
Winds and snow were smiting every goddamn little piece of green shit found in their way, you were also there, embraced in the skin of the last bear, clutching my fingers, staring deep into my eyes, never caring at all.

>> No.3114340

rolling

>> No.3114366

>>3114318
In retrospect, a bomb shelter is not a place Jan had ever thought would be a high risk area for rad-mutie rape.

>> No.3114422

h-here we go

>> No.3114441

rolling

>> No.3114445

rolling
Although I usually write in my native language rather than english

>> No.3114457

Inb4 it's shit.

>>3114422
(1/2)
My M1 creaks and groans as I hold it in a death grip with trembling palms. I step through the halls thick, bomb-proof bunker aware that at any moment I could be scalped by a stray bullet. Turning a corner, I glimpse a long strip of sky cut and pasted into the shadowy concrete room. There is a lone figure standing on the step in front of the firing step, staring down at the battlefield. He is unarmed, opting rather to stand on the concrete floor like a scarecrow.

"F-freeze, Lieutenant Kruger," I say. "I am Private James Bradshaw, and I have been ordered to arrest you and bring you back for trial. If you do not comply I will be forced to destroy you."

He turns around and laughs at me. I think back to my childhood locker room insecurities regarding my cock. Then he says, "What a fun little euphemism, 'destroy.' What a fun word for brutally shooting down an unarmed man."

"Lieutenant," I say, keeping my gun fixed on his forehead as he takes a seat on the firing step, "These are my orders."

"Fuck orders," he says, "They are nothing more than commands issued by the elite while they march innocent boys to their deaths to advance personal agendas."

I thought hard about this, and realized that he was right on some level. But I attempted to keep my veneer of professionalism visible and I said, "You will come with me, now, or I will kill you."

"Why? Why would you kill me?" he asked. "What have I done to you? You only want to kill me because some fat senator who is sending American boys to their deaths declared I was your enemy."

I sat down with him, raising my gun to the ceiling, "You're right..." I said. "We're just people who are in this war for no reason. We're the same. We're both just men."

>> No.3114461

>>3114422
>>3114457
(2/2)

Then, a wicked laugh flew forth from Kruger's mouth. He said, "No, you're wrong there." Suddenly, his human mask flew off to reveal the sinister face of Cthulhu. I tried to shoot him but it was to no avail. As his multitude of tentacles slithered rapidly towards me, my trembling hands missed every shot. They swatted the weapon from my hands, sending it clattering to the floor. Then the tentacles began to wrap around me. I tried to scream, but it was useless. The tentacles of Cthulhu had entered and plugged every orifice on my body.

>> No.3114483

The rush had never been so intense. He could feel his own pupil dialate, the blood streaming with a renewed strength to his fingertips. He wanted to feel with each and every nerve, take in his hands and caress what was before his eyes.
Then, a violence made its way through his entire body, a blade of weakness and pleasure. His skinny legs couldn't support his trembling body, but he couldn't care less, as a second movement brought his chest up high, as if the lungs wanted to breathe on their own. He sat, on the dirty sidewalk where he had taken a hit. Sweat began pouring of his forehead, he had to close his eyes from the moisture.
And the image appeared. So strongly he could not resist and opened his mouth, his sucked-dry mouth, producing a shriek that would have made tremble the windows if there had been any in this street of ruins.
And for a moment he could not distinguish the image from the reality, a woman, had rushed to him, it was her he saw, at the other end of the alley.
It was at last his true heroine.

Thoughts? Took me a few minutes, I had fun writing it anyway.

>> No.3114485

>>3114483
Goes with
>>3114445

>> No.3114492

okay, go

>> No.3114497

>>3114457
>>3114461
i liked it

>> No.3114500

>>3114492
Ugh, I don't want to write about WWII
Rolling again.
If this comes out as two again, I'll gauge my eyes out.

>> No.3114504

>>3114500
Oh shit, space and Cthulhu.
This is gonna be a while.

>> No.3114505
File: 30 KB, 367x494, guages.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
3114505

>>3114500
>gauge my eyes out

SICK NIGGA OFWGKTA

>> No.3114533

rawlin

>> No.3114586

33. Fuck. Dystopia with Cthulu coming right up.

Lefty didn't know he was bleeding. He screamed, and nothing came out except the ringing in his ears. Lefty ran: "Where," "how," "what," and "if," all jumbled together in incoherent mess of instinct. His feet caught on rocks and pieces of his comrades as he wildly charged away. His ears still rang, yet over the din Lefty could make out two sounds: screams and the crushing of flesh and bone. He dared not turn around: the sight that would greet him was too much to bare. It was not real; it could not be real. If everything that he imagined had actually happened, it would mean that Mark was dead, that Steve was dead, that Ruby was dead, and that he had been shot in the back by one of the asshole new recruits.

There was no way to avoid it anymore. Lefty mustered up the courage he had left and turned around. It was real. Alpha Squad had failed. The target was not only alive, but was sliding its current meal-- Steve, from the looks of it,-- beneath its tentacles. The crunching noise continued.

The monster's red eyes suddenly came to rest on Lefty. Raising his pulse rifle, Lefty screamed and clenched his trigger finger. Bright blue bursts emanated from the tip of his cannon, missing the target entirely.

An enormous hand reached around Lefty. His ears were still ringing, but he could hear wet, slapping sounds from the maw which opened wide before him. Lefty defecated in his uniform as he was unceremoniously sucked into the mouth of the beast, exactly as the multitudes before him had done, and exactly the millions who would follow him would do as well.

Took 20 minutes. I got too ambitious with the metaphor.

>> No.3114599

Rollin.

>> No.3114601

>>3114599
>>3114599

My body isn't ready...

>> No.3114618

Hah, this will be interesting.

>> No.3114631
File: 44 KB, 540x405, cthulhuFB1.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
3114631

Down the coast they come, bearing their blades and black pennants. Some, in an armored phallanx, take to the high rock and burden their bows. Far beyond, through the dense fog, to the place where the tide breaks with height and violence, the great Cthulhu.

Figured I'd keep it short and sweet.

>> No.3114644

rollingf

>> No.3114650

>>3114618
8. Future

I received a rather interesting letter in the mail today. It claimed to be my future self from tomorrow (11/4/12). His letter detailed the droll and typical events of tomorrow as I expected it. However, there was something off about his manner of speech and the overall tone.

I further examined the paper in question. It tested negative for lemon juice, I could not decipher any real code within it or nothing. As I went to bed, I struggled to comprehend the letter itself. The day was normal. It will be normal. After all, I know what's going to happen. Imagine my luck when I discovered that I slept through the fourth and woke up at 7:18 AM on the fifth. Did I even do anything that day? Was I experiencing amnesia? The events (if any) still puzzle me to this day.

>> No.3114670

rollin son

>> No.3114679

>>3114670
re-roll son

>> No.3114681

>>3114679
oh wait I got space

>> No.3114684

rolling

>> No.3114686

'There is no love in this world. This world is a cold and dark place. Each man is alone - no matter deep he penetrates or how near his balls are to the fat asses of the beast in heat.' the nihilist pulled in the underside of his knees, lying beneath and in-between dark sheets. He curled himself up into a ball of nothingness. ' Each man is alone, being left to interpret dreams in the stillness of their womb.' He opened his eyes and looked into the rough plaster that painted the wall that was directly in front of his face. ' The texture of this wall makes for a peaceful tomb'

>> No.3114693

okay

>> No.3114709

>>3114693

I was on the verge of tears leaving my house last week, a real bad sandstorm hit so it did. It was a shame really, I had to get some work done that day. The Pre-War reactor was actin' up. Without that the whole entire district would lose power and we'd probably lose most of the residents. I tried to make it over to the thing but the green ol' sandstorm wasn't lettin' it happen. I guess it's natural and all so I can't get too angry at it, and sure, I managed to fix the guy the next day. Life moves on so it does.

>> No.3114710

Rolling

>> No.3114726

I couldn't believe me eyes. They were all there. James, Chloe, tyler, Halley. That's how they were doing it. They did it with fedoras.

Sorry.

>> No.3115375

>>3114710
>>3114726

Mixing themes, because I'm edgy.

>November 3rd, 522- The Kuiper Belt will prove a lovely hideout during the coming months. Those miserable bureaucrats on Earth still have no efficient way of finding things out here. That slimy rock is going to their brains, surely.

>I’ve never been caught like this before...fuck. It figures it would happen during the largest scheme I’ve ever taken on...but if I’m lucky they don’t have my ID. I’ll find out soon enough if they do; why the let the vid broadcast out this far is beyond me, nobody worth mentioning lives far past Neptune.

>That rock I took is sitting in its heavy little box next to my bed. Why the fuck anything small enough to fit inside that box would be so valuable to even a black market lord, let alone some nobody stupid enough to give me his ID, is beyond me. Where the fuck did an aerospace engineer would get the cash he’s throwing at me to deliver this thing? I know he has it, he paid me more than most of my other jobs put together just as an upfront.

>The way he speaks, and the way he looks around and wrings his hands...it’s weird. I don’t want to have anything to do with him after this shit is over.

>But before that, for now, I’m hiding like a roach under some rock in the Kuiper.

I might build on this one, add more entries to the diary. I think I'll take it in a more...eldritch direction, if I do. Remember, kiddies: MacGuffin Rocks are dangerous.

>> No.3115383

Because that assignment on Le Mort Darthur that was due 2 weeks ago can probably wait another 10 minutes.

>> No.3115387

>>3115383
Welcome to the internet. We have some tea and crumpets and porn ready for you.

>> No.3115402

Rolling.

>> No.3115406

>>3115383

There was a pale light that lingered near the cusp of that valley ridge that night; hanging 'round like a willow'wisp among the tall pine it was a beacon of bleak foreboding and a nocturnal reminder of what doom the night time brings.

>> No.3115418

>>3115402

"How long have we waited?" asked the little girl. Her breath was frosty and visible in the night air.
"Not long enough," said the boy.
"Are we going to die?" she asked.
"No," he said. "Now just be quiet."
They were hiding behind some bushes in the tree line beside a road. Trucks had passed – trucks carrying soldiers – but that was a few minutes ago. All they had to do was cross the road.
"I don't hear any more trucks," said the girl. "I think it's safe."
The boy leaned out of the tree line, and looked both ways. Snow fell, drifting lightly, falling like white feathers from the sky. No one was there. It was safe.
"Okay," said the boy. "Okay, let's go but be quick."
He took her hand and they ran across the road, safely, quietly. They had reached the other side. The boy started running further into the woods, then stopped. The girl was tugging his sleeve.
"What?" he asked.
She was pointing to the road. Footprints.
They'd left footprints.
"Shit!" cried the boy. "No time! Just run. They might not see them."

>> No.3115443

rolling

>> No.3115535

shit, I need some inspiration.

>> No.3115539

.

>> No.3115570

>>3115539


Robert hid in the shadows as King Leopold ambled up the steps. He gripped his knife tightly, so much so that his fingertips felt as though they went through the back of his hand. The king was moving closer and closer now. Robert felt sweat gathering on his brow, knots in his stomach and throat, now was the time. He could almost smell the king as he walked nearer to him, but then he heard voices. The king had a party of guards with him. Luckily Robert came armed with an M-16 just one of the many joys of time travel...

>> No.3115653

roll

>> No.3115604

roll

>> No.3115821

>>3113468
>>3113471

This little story is my favorite so far. Good job anon.

>> No.3116381

There were guttural whispers coming from down the alley. The low mumbles were the same heard in the alleys of a dozen nations coming to outflank the denizens. And then they came closer and the grey green drabbed forms sidled against the wall, a dozen and they were low to the ground their pale skin dark from soot and hunched like vandals clattering occasionally from the gear festooned on their persons exposed now to the squad. They stopped to be nearly direct across the café I sighted one in the chest and saw his face turn either ways nodding to other krauts his mouth moved thick syllables in low tones. My sergeant fired and I did too the whole squad surprising the men on the wall and I dropped the German in my sight and he drug on the wall down in a bloody streak his head lolled forward and he slipped from life dead into the dirt of the side street much like the rest. Two scrambled fast and tripped themselves and ran screaming away back over some dead and turned the corner to an escape into an alley. Our sergeant humped over the broken storefront into the crunch of more glass and across the street sprinting up to the wall, we followed at one step distant. He stepped over the dead krauts like us I didn’t want blood on my shoes so I waited off it and looked at my dead one and he reached the alley edge. One quick peek around the corner. I saw a smile and then his Thompson rounded the wall and the gun flashed angry for seconds. The Sergeant walked away after another glance around and reloaded his gun. I looked to a moment after and the depression of an alley was filled with the two dead trapped and embraced dead against a solid brick wall chipped with bloody gauges.

>> No.3116391

>>3116381
shit sorry last word should be gouges

>> No.3116403

Roll up a roll
I got what you need
Bitches they love it, bitches they love it
Roll up the weed
Rolls on the house fucking with me

>> No.3116406

ROLLING

>> No.3116416

I'll give it a try.

>> No.3116430

Jason doesn't want to live any more
Jason always thought walking through empty streets would be fun. Jason always wanted to steal a car drive for days. Jason always though he was the only human on earth. Jason wants to ransack a the city library. Jason wants to die. Jason still sits at his computer all day, there is no internet, but it doesn't matter. Jason wants to find another person.

>> No.3116432

>>3116416

There once was a guy named Stu
He would loved to brew and brew
Once it was outlawed
From town he did withdraw
To Appalachia he packed and he flew

Making beer and liquor was his life
He made lots to support him and his wife
But then came the coppers
No time to flee proper
He lay dead and gave his girl strife

>> No.3116437

>>3116432

fuck proofreading, get bitches

>> No.3116496

rolling but probably not going to post it

>> No.3116517

>>3113191
Likely-not-following-up-on-roll-rolling.

>> No.3116608

a-rollin'

>> No.3116625

>>3113191
I like this, roll

>> No.3116629

Rollan

>> No.3116648

>>3116625
I apologise in advance, I overestimated five minutes and had conflicting plots developing in my head. Anyay, here you go:

A loud slam broke the silence in the alleyway, the rats which had previously been chewing on the garbage had fled in fear, forcing the bags to roll, adorning the concrete with a mixture of rotting foodstuffs and cans. Johannes stumbled out of the door, having slammed it behind himself, and braced himself against the smell of festering waste and what could easily have been narcotics, nothing would surprise him anymore. He held close to himself a heaving satchel, he understood the penalty which would befall him if the patrols ever got wind of what he was doing, but the rewards seemed in that moment to outweigh the risks. He sat himself down against the wall, his back pressed against the smooth, wet stones. He carefully but hastily opened the satchel and pulled from it a large, leather-bound book, all the while considering the implications it could have for him were he ever caught. He slid his fingers along the face of the book and slowly opened it, receiving the creek joyously as he ran his finger down the edge of the crisp pages. There was no sating his desires now, he had begun reading, from the titular pages he knew there was no escaping, no escaping the forbidden fruits of knowledge; he was addicted.

>> No.3116672

rollan

>> No.3116709

Do it

>> No.3116728

rollin'

>> No.3116736

>>3116672
>come to thread to write
>dont write

>> No.3117227

pocket sand

>> No.3117246

aj;dfhajkdfhjkldfhjklasdfhjkldghajklghjklghasjklgh

>> No.3117251

well h

>> No.3117267

>>3117227

Oh joy, a Western. I'm hard pressed to mention Dirty Dan.

(1/2)

Nestled in her corner of the compartment, Ruby stared at the countryside outside of the train window. Boulders and sparse shrubs populated the dry aridity of the lands either side of the tracks; of course she could only see to the left of her carriage, but by a means of simple deduction she concluded the other side was the same. They had been moving across country for three days now, she had left Topeka and was edging through the deserts of Utah momentarily. The simple monotony was attractive to many, it holding romantic notions of frontiersmen and bandits; Ruby found it dull and lifeless. Yet she was forced to comply with the situation, there being no other alternative to the centipede crawl of locomotion.

>> No.3117269

>>3117267

(2/2)

Ruby was not alone in the compartment, there was a man lying down across from her. He was asleep for now, trying to make the cramped journey pass by with as much speed as the jarring conditions of the train allowed. He would awake now and then, reposition himself and somehow break through the barrier to sleep. Unfortunately for Ruby, she had too soft an upbringing to do the same. It may sound ludicrous, but a shredded seat with much of the stuffing missing was no substitute for a downy feather mattress back home in Lexington.
A woman and her toddler trundled past the compartment. Ruby caught a glimpse of a dirty bonnet and a faded salmon dress as the dirty eyes glanced into her temporary home. This was no place for her. She required civility; cleanliness and politeness were signposts of civility but she saw neither here in this lawless, dirty land.

>> No.3117295

>>3117251
Johnny stepped out of his mother's car and returned to his basement where the computer was at, probably gathering local pay-card PINs. He was a guy who gazed at stars. Eyes hidden behind two panes of thick glass and acne that was getting worse even though it seemed like it couldn't. He could care less, though, for he had other thoughts. What waited for him under the staircase was not a bicycle or a green unicycle which he sometimes imagined himself driving on in the Great Canyon. There were VCRs. Hundreds of tapes of videos with sweaty ladies, sometimes in rainbowed leotards, sometimes in gray loose pants, but always with a sweatband around their heads, that's how he remembered them. Having taken a tape, Johnny inserted it into the player by the TV set on a shelf, just so that he could focus on his routine while the Commodore, as it turned out, compiled one of his BASIC experiments.

Screen covered in white-noise, the excitement of a promise for something new and a faint scent of wet socks in the air. The black lady with a violet sweatband and garment pants fancy seeing you here we haven't met at least a month go I ought to put a marker on your tape so our encounters wouldn't be as sporadic do you want to talk well I can't really pause now so do as you please oh god I'm already sweating oh another lady, didn't know that there were more in this tape up, up, bend, up, down, down wait what's that noise oh hey mom i was just you know, how long have you been watching? Not for long, but long enough? Oh so you'll tell dad, well guess where I got the tapes, yes a rather cloudy day to you too I'll be up after thirty. Where were we, yes, ladies, I felt the change in the atmosphere too.

>> No.3117318

>>3113470
Delete the speech parts and it won't suck as much. Not being a father I can't appreciate these emotions, but I guess your writing works on some level.

>> No.3117635 [DELETED] 

Roll

>> No.3117724 [DELETED] 

Rollin'

>> No.3117727 [DELETED] 

>>3117724
ferk. I know nothing about noir. Time to wingit!

>> No.3117773

>>3115821
Why thank ya kindly Anon.

>>3117727

I know very little about noir, yet I winged it. Get to it.

>> No.3118255

let's roll

>> No.3118323
File: 7 KB, 552x413, dice.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
3118323

>> No.3118325

>>3118255

"Vericose veins vilify vileness varicose veins vilify vileness varicose veins vilify..."

His lips kept moving, the muscles in a constant state of flux as if the very thought of stopping would bring some sort of punishment on the cracked salmon twins. The eyes moved in a similar fashion, awaiting the words of their dual pink masters and moving accordingly. Every syllable brought upon a spasm and a new wave of slick tears, flowing from the dark pools of his pupils, which had by now become so large they seemed like voids, nothingness where his prominent sense once was.

But he saw. Oh yes he saw. Every time he carved the shapes into the wall, he would see things with shared eyes, eyes from beyond some kind veil that separates our world from theirs. But he could penetrate it with only a bit of effort. This of course, meant spending most of his paycheck, earned in his insignificant waking hours, on the needed materials. His man had never let him down yet, but the hard part was finding the newts and cutting off their tongues. He so hated violence, but once he put it all together, carved the eye, and swabbed the mixture on, he was free. The pain from carving the eye into his flesh was gone from then on, and as he looked into it, he would begin to see his master, sleeping soundly, dreaming of nightmares to come.

And he would feel whole.

>> No.3118329

>>3118323

There were fires screaming nightly from that chaos, there were vultures in that lightless desert deep. Twin flights of vagrant carrion, pecking lithe the bones of recent fallen, plucking skyward out the eyelids of the dead, rush west off and to the sea in ragged torment: boneplucked drying dead lay maggotchewed and fawning for a day once more in worlds among the living: these were shepherds and flock-herders, men of simple ways. Nobel, tilling hard the earth each season for the reaping up of all the lying dust: those naked seeds in frenzy sup the living waters deep and through their clustered gullets sheltered there along the fecund ground. The sun in rage climbs swiftly from his ladder tall and shrinks beneath the towering of mountains: all lays still and none are speaking. There is death here, for the finding and the taking. There is no life here for miles. There is only the lament of something old and just past sight: the breathing of a windy gale. Let come the vultures for the bones. We are not sorry for the hurting ground.

>> No.3118338

>>3118325

I was surprised at how easily the Cthulu angle came. Anyway, any thoughts? Haven't written anything in months.

>> No.3118748

herber flerber

>> No.3118780

>>3118748
My mind was spinning slightly as I stepped out of my house and towards my frozen driveway. The stars were still out, hugged by a faint, wisp of overcast illumined by a yellow moon, but it seemed like day in my altered perspective.
My ears began to ring. I adjusted the rubber aid fixed inside my left pinna, but found that this was a futile effort.
"Good evening, Michael," the silver Audi projected, "would you like me to unlock?"
I projected in the affirmative. I couldn't fathom why my father became so hellbent on picking up this new type of technology that would interact with us so intimately.
There is nothing to fear.
I now imagined the ringing to be a spiral inside my mind, twisting and contorting in a technicolor matrix. The less I focused on the practical task at hand, the more the emotions of the past few weeks began to rise and swell through my solar plexus and into the internal gear.

>> No.3118781

I really hope I get space and Cthulhu.

>> No.3118810

>>3118781
And the end is all I can see
transmissions to disrupt the atmosphere, quantum fields, quarks, decoherence, set of
frequencies to focus electromagnetic resonance—
Who are we? What are we?
—and use the surrounding material to amplify the effects.
aural frequencies
(borealis)
well can't do that now can we, have me out in seconds,
polarity? eminence? end of days, times, mankind, armageddon, apocalypse, revelation,
theoretical list. The theorems, never for
(cold air plunged down through the tops of the storm clouds were packed with snow and ice and air drier and colder and so dense accelerated downwards an avalanche bursting down a mountainside)
(whirlpools and eddies)
Atlantic sting jets: explosive atmospheric pressure
9/11: nano-thermite. Iron oxide and aluminium. Pyroclastic dust clouds. Tara. Did I do that?
Can't uphold the pretence... why bother.(exogenesis)
swirling molten layer under the earth's crust creates the magnetic field surrounding the earth. any disruption of the field has the potential to cause...
No, slipping.
cold fusion with palladium: use plant-eating nanovirus; Louisiana, Arkansas, Finland, sleep deprivation, die-offs similar japan taiwan
lightning organising itself into standing waves; transmitter capable of picking up energy in standing lightning wave? Yes. Pump into the ground; retrieve energy again at fixed harmonic distances from transmitter—
...
—and a plan, plan, a physical model. Why draw it if it's my 279
lowered into ocean? Black cables? Boats, tsunamis? Earthquakes. Similar fault
zones, epicentre nobel all... points... in.
amplified electromagnetic waves pe
disturbs the atmosphere
(glowing spherical masses of incandescent plasma)
one-zero-three-one-two-six-one-two (528491) but not, really
gulf war testing, deploydeploy, resonant transformers transferring pulses of energy between one another until they produ Leipzig University and even BP,
5.125 3349.371 78 -- 91

>> No.3118811

Oh shit, gonna have to roll.