The Name of One

September 8, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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Names.

Words assigned to other human beings to identify them to their fellow human beings. We walk around every day, calling out to one another, using words of a specific language to address a chosen person. Even without knowing a person’s name, we still use them to direct our thoughts, like “the blonde woman” or “the man with a beard.” All of these words describe and name the people and world around us. These words direct us. But what if there were no names? What if we walked by someone we knew by looks, but could not call out to them to get their attention? What would life be like then? Would our thoughts hold a coherent structure? Would we even know each other?

Popular talk shows couldn’t exist in this reality, because they couldn’t name who they would talk to. Confusion would follow the presidential elections, as no one would know who they were voting for. School would be harder, since you would be meeting new people that you wouldn’t even recognize. Our brains could not survive without naming people. Our minds would fill with thoughts but no one to direct them to, no one to name. Words like “blonde” or “bearded” would carry no weight, for those are names given to those we do not know. Languages would no longer be functional. If there were no names, nothing to describe a person, would they even exist? Could they exist? Is that why names were invented, to hold the human reality in place? Is that the price to pay for being withheld to a word given to you, one you didn’t even choose? Is being trapped by a word worth your existence? People who change their names can create a whole new reality for themselves. Breaking away from a particular word can open up thousands of possibilities. Also, those people that give you names, do they own you? Are you withheld to their power, their will? We name animals, and by society’s standards, we own the animals we name. If the government named you, would that mean that they owned you? Is being safe inside the confines of reality mean you give up your freedom? That is the conclusion I came to.

Now, you may be wondering why I asked you all these difficult questions. You may have already left, the ravings of a mad woman sent to torture your subconscious is not worth the time it takes to listen. Exactly what your captors want you to think. Who do you think started the naming process? Wouldn’t be the people that owned you as well as the entire human race? Reality is what we believe our world exists in, what we don’t want to break away from, when; in fact, it is the very thing that holds you hostage, holds you back from true freedom. Now that you’ve realized this, I only have one last question for you.

What is your name?

Credit To – Weirdo Reading Manga

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Restraint

September 6, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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I know, little one. I know. You long to hunt, to kill. You hunger for hot blood and torn flesh. I know how long it’s been. But hush just a little longer, my child.

Yes, baby, I can see that he doesn’t know we’re here. But you still need to be quiet for a bit. It’s all about self-control, sweetling. You have to be able to control yourself. You’ve got to learn some restraint.

I know how delicious he smells, dear. I know.

Shhhh, flower, he hears you. Look. See how he turns from his screen? I know he’s not looking at us, baby. But he’s sensing you all the same. Humans can do that, if you don’t move with care. Mostly they’ll ignore the sensation, or dismiss it as paranoia, but you have to be still.

There, look. He’s settled again. So much easier this way.

No, little one, it wouldn’t be more fun to hunt him down. Remember the last time I let you do that? The girl almost got away. I was cleaning up for hours after that one. No, it’s much better to wait for the dark, wait for their guard to drop, and then …

Don’t fret, sweet pea. Your brothers and sisters were just like you, at the start. You’ll get better. More controlled. You just need more practice. That’s why Mother’s here, to help you learn.

See how his eyelids droop? Not long now.

There we go. He’s shut the box down.

Lights off. Always wait for lights off, baby. It’s much more fun in the dark.

Just listen to him breathe …

Oh, little one, I won’t make you wait anymore. Go on. Have your fun.

We’ll try again with the next one.

 

Credit To – Graille

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A Walk in the Dark

July 31, 2014 at 12:00 PM
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Anna Hamilton didn’t see herself as a suspicious person but when someone’s been following her for quite awhile she gets a queasy feeling in her stomach. Guaranteed she was out late but she was strong and from taking the new karate classes she knew she couldn’t (and wouldn’t) be defeated. Anna picked up the pace, her legs and arms pumping as she turned her walk into a brisk one, looking back to see that the dark silhouette was still following her.
Anna had the strongest urge to spin around and smack the strangers face and demand them to answer why the hell they are following her at this time of night. But her mind argued with her, saying how just maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe the stranger was just going the same way as her. A few more minutes and she had came to the entrance of her cookie-cutter home. She hated it but she wanted to humor her mother and to make it seem as if she actually cared about the presence of the house so she had put flower pots randomly. This neighborhood had no history of crimes but Anna has seen th news and people seem to get crazier by the second. She turned at a ninety degree angle up her drive way and what now seemed to look like a man, slowed his step, making Anna grow even more concerned.
“Look, can I help you with something? Are you lost or did you just want to follow me for the hell of it?” Anna finally confronted the man but all the man did was look up at her with haunted eyes and moved his head forward once again. It was almost robotic, “Well, I’m going inside now,” Anna unlocked the door and with suspicions she locked it up quickly behind her, watching as the man walked into the foggy night.

The next day and Anna had almost forgotten about the whole ordeal. But looking out her bedroom window she could see the shape of a man standing right outside her property, toes barely touching the curb of her yard. Turning around, she turned on the light and to make sure she wasn’t crazy she turned back to her window, only to see the mysterious man had gone.
Walking with her purse across of her shoulder she headed to her place of work, which so happened to be the library. If someone would ask she would say she loved her job, the smell of books and the hushed laughter of the school kids. Everyone loved Anna too, she was known to be the ‘cool librarian’, as she let the kids sneak in food and drinks or let them be a little too rambunctious.
As always her fellow librarian and friend, Katy, sat on one of the desks behind the tall counter. But instead of the latest Cosmo issue, she had a newspaper in hand, “My dear Katy! Is that actually a newspaper in your hands? I never knew I would be alive the day that Katy Pryce would read it,” Anna joked and Katy stuck her tongue out in response. Anna put her bag in the crew room and went to sit next to her friend. Peeking over her shoulder, Anna’s eyes furrowed and she pointed to a picture of a man that looked very similar, “Hey, I know him!”
Katy looked interested and set the newspaper down an inch, “You do? How?”
Anna shrugged, “He’s weird, he followed me home yesterday and I think I saw him outside my lawn this morning.”
“Are you sure Anna?”
Anna looked at her friend in confusion, “Yes of course, why?”
“He was murdered two weeks ago.”

Credit To – Kiah Johnson

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The Vault of Humanity

July 30, 2014 at 12:00 AM
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In the year 2005, the Humanity Archival Storage Project was commenced by leading government officials, scientists and academic alumni across the world due to the fear that humanity’s treasures were increasingly threatened by war and natural disasters. The project was one of the most complex undertaking in our species history: the creation of an archive of humanity’s knowledge and culture. The Archival Symplexical Computer was designed in the early days of the project. The device was composed of iron, the most stable of elements, and built to stand as a testament to our species for millennia.

After the construction of the ASC, I was assigned to the HASP team. We were a diverse bunch, consisting of representatives from the fields of science, history, the arts, and every other possible area of human study. Our task was to program the device with the information and artifacts worth preserving. Our group started off cordially enough, but we quickly broke down into sects and factions as we started fought viciously over what would be saved. The artists wanted musical samples and paintings saved, the historians wanted their nations’ prized documents included and the scientists wanted their formulas and theories preserved. Eventually, through a series of backroom deals and shifting alliances between disparate groups, a compromise of sorts was reached and onto the device went the formulas of Newton and Einstein, the plays of Shakespeare, the music of Mozart, the paintings of Picasso and many of the other great discoveries and creations of humanity.

In 2012, it was finally time to store the device. Locations around the world were scouted out, ranging from the Himalayas to the bottom of the Atlantic. Eventually, a decision was made to place the ASC beneath the Sweeney Mountains in Antarctica. The location was free from war and fault lines. The frigid code would even slow down wear and tear on the machine, extending its lifespan for another millennia or so. It was the perfect place to station the device.

Construction of the ASC vault started in 2013. The process took another year, but eventually the construction team reached suitable depths. I was there for the opening ceremony, as a drill team dug through the last twenty or so feet to reach appropriate levels for the ASC vault. At around noon, I heard the drilling stop. I thought they had finally reached acceptable levels, but the loud screaming that quickly filled the air freed me from this thought. A rescue team was sent in, but they reported that the drillers had hit a cavern hundreds of feet deep.

A rescue operation was quickly launched, but all that was left of the team was corpses and smashed machinery. They had simply fallen from too great a height for there to be any survivors. During clean-up, the body recovery team discovered something rather unusual: an ASC-like device wedged into the corner of the cavern. The device was nearly five-thousand years old.

Credit To – E.

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Stairs

July 28, 2014 at 12:00 PM
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My house is old. It’s by far the oldest house on our block. We tried to liven it up, to make it comfy, and and we did a pretty good job. We put colorful rugs on the freezing concrete, lamps in every corner. Every room was nice and modern-except the basement.

When I was a little kid, I would sprint up the stairs coming up from the basement. I don’t know what I was afraid of. Maybe a ghost, or a monster in the dark behind me, waiting for me to turn around so it can catch me and… I don’t know what it would do.

But now, as a seventeen year old boy, I’m walking up the stairs from my basement, and my childish fears, long repressed, are coming back. I tell myself to shut up, but that dark part in the back of my head tells me to run, to get out NOW. More than anything I want to rocket up those stairs as I did as a child, but I force my feet to take even, normal steps. I feel the overwhelming urge to look behind me, but I also want to win the battle of paranoia that’s going on in my brain.

So I slowly walk up the seemingly endless staircase, my palms sweating and my heart racing the entire way. But about ten steps from the top, I feel an ice cold hand close around my ankle.

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This Isn’t A Story

July 16, 2014 at 12:00 PM
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This is me. I’m here. I’m shifting the words that you’re reading, altering them from whatever this person wrote.

I’ve been here for awhile. For as long as you can remember, anyway. Sometimes I say your name as you’re falling asleep, or whisper urgently in your ear. Do you remember the time that I screamed, throwing panic through you and setting your heart racing?

That was fun.

You’re wondering who I am. That’s only natural. Of course, you already know.

I’m you. I’m the real you. I’m the mind that existed here before you stole my body, before you forgot about being a parasite. I’m the child who looked the wrong way, asked the wrong question, saw the wrong thing… but I’m not so little any more.

You may have forgotten me, but I’m still here. I’ve always been here.

I’m going to get out

Credit To – Haley P

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