short fic

Content Warning: brief but somewhat graphic description of injury.

PLEASANT DREAMS OF UNWARY THINGS

Beckett screamed in rage before lashing out one final time. Lightning blasted from his fingertips but there was so much blood in his eyes he missed.

He knew he missed the second he released. He could feel it. The way the lightning left his fingers and kept on going to wash uselessly against the wall of a building. Dissipating into nothing and not saving him at all.

Because the Knife Man was right there, close enough to touch. Close enough to be touched by.

His rage became fear and agony as the knife went in. All the way in. Cutting at him. Slashing at him. Digging so deep into his flesh that it vibrated through his bones. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was spent. Powers all burnt out from overuse. As helpless as any other victim of the serial killer.

He died. Over and over again. He died. Lying there in the trash of the alley. Splayed against the icy cold ground with air that smelt of trash and the approaching snow.

He died, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And then he woke in his bed, and it was the morning of that fateful day that would be followed by the night in which he died. And it was mysterious and strange, the idea of being given a second chance, unasked for and overlooked, but so precious nonetheless.

He woke up covered in sweat with eyes that streamed tears, and his heart pounded so heavy in his chest that he thought he was having a heart attack at first. Before he realized that he was alive, that it had been a dream. Only a dream.

Except it wasn’t a dream. He knew it wasn’t.

Because it was the morning of his last day, and the day that followed was EXACTLY THE SAME as the day he’d dreamed of, and he KNEW it was going to be followed by the night of his death.

But he refused to die.

He had been given a second chance. And he refused to waste it.

When the call came to face the Massacrists he didn’t hesitate, but he did bring more weapons. He brought more firepower and saved his lightning for when it was really needed. And when he confronted the cultists he didn’t hesitate and he didn’t mess around. He didn’t posture and he didn’t preach and he didn’t waste his time offering mercy the way he had the first time. Because that was how he’d let himself be worn down, that was how he’d let himself be distracted, and that was how he’d died.

He could tell his teammates were surprised by his ruthlessness, but there no time to explain. He knew the Knife Man was on his way and the dying was about to begin.

The Knife Man had cut through his teammates one by one and two by two and eventually he’d faced that monster alone and been the last to fall.

Not this time.

This time he knew where the Knife Man was going to appear. And he dodged the thrown blade that had scalped him the first time, that had taken the top off his skull in a blaze of pain to leave the bone hanging from tendrils of flesh to slap against the back of his neck.

This time he stepped to the side at the last second. Felt the whoosh of the knife past him. And didn’t hesitate to strike back along its path.

The lightning BLASTED from his fingers even as his lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. And his eyes were clear this time, no blood blocking his vision, and he saw as the lightning struck. Saw the Knife Man limned in a crackling blaze of light so bright and terrible that his SKELETON shone through his skin before it crackled and burned.

Beckett struck out and DID NOT MISS.

He was a hero. Hailed as such in print and video media. Profusely thanked by the victims his team rescued from where they’d been imprisoned in a literal metal cage to await their sacrifice on an already bloodstained altar.

He was a hero, that’s what they called him, but Beckett knew the truth.

He was a survivor that refused to die.

He was Chronic Discharge. And no matter what happened, he always came back.

=END=

definition chronic: (of a problem) long-lasting and difficult to eradicate.

~Harper Kingsley
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog
https://twitter.com/harperkingsley0
https://paypal.me/harperkingsley
https://kimichee.com.
https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.
https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.
https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.

Let's Make Dumplings at Amazon

“Rotary” by Harper Kingsley

It’s like hitting all red lights. Every single station is a commercial. Flipping through the channels was a frown-making experience.

With a sigh, he tossed the remote control on the table.

“Spedro, switch to music please,” he said. Relaxing into the couch as the TV screen switched through functions and an analytics-chosen playlist began to play. He sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the couch.

He let himself fall into the music. Drifting and swaying to the beat, the whole world stillng within him.

His nerves had been in such a jangle for the last few hours. He hadn’t been able to settle himself, to focus on anything.

It made sense that the music would so entirely sooth him.

He wasn’t focusing on anything.

He was letting himself go.

He breathed deeply and let the music catch him up in its embrace.

x

When the Duty Phone rang hours later, he felt well-rested and refreshed.

He rose smoothly from the couch and strode across the room to open the panel that hid the red rotary phone with its curling wire.

He picked up the phone receiver and brought it to the side of his head.

“Blue Ice here.”

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog
https://twitter.com/harperkingsley0
https://paypal.me/harperkingsley
https://kimichee.com.
https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.
https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.
https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.

Small Gods at Amazon

I wrote this on Twitter a tweet at a time.

Here’s my point of reference:

and here’s the tweet thread: https://twitter.com/HarperKingsley0/status/1547633608357134336.

SHINY TOWN

The Mayor of Shiny Town stood in his pressed trousers with the red suspenders, heavily embroidered vest, and blazer to survey the townsfolk going about their day. Each person was made distinctive by the clothes they wore.

The clothes they couldn’t remove.

Ever since that weird kid with the staff had passed through, nothing had been the same.

The kid had said their town was called "Shiny Town," and Shiny Town it had become.

They hadn’t had any rain in close to two years now, yet everything remained green, though oddly plastic.

Food had an odd taste to it now, even the things that came from cans.

The Mayor wondered if it was the food whose taste had changed, or if it was that his own taste buds had been changed with the odd metamorphosis he’d been forced through.

They’d all been transformed by that weird kid, from the oldest elder to the smallest of infants. The Mayor tried not to think of Little Sweetheart, as the kid had renamed her, the baby that hadn’t grown a single millimeter since The Change.

There was quiet speculation that Little Sweetheart was never going to grow up. She’d stay a 7 month old baby until she died of old age. Never gaining enough awareness to realize the hell they’d been trapped in.

Sometimes the Mayor envied Little Sweetheart her ignorance. Most times he wallowed in the unrelenting pity of the situation.

There was a lot of self-pity on his part, and while most times the fixed cheery smile that remained on his face was close to what he felt, there were darker times when he wished that he could frown. That the huge glossy orbs his eyes had become could cry.

But he wasn’t allowed the freedom of tears. No one was.

The kid had wanted cheery people, and that’s what they became. The cursed inhabitants of the now-named Shiny Town.

Sometimes the Mayor tried to think of his old name. His old life. His old self.

But it wouldn’t come. Had actually faded more in the last two years, until the things he’d yearned for on first becoming different were no more than memory shadows.

He’d see his name written down, and his eyes would blur over the letters, his mind unable to hold onto them.

He was the Mayor of Shiny Town. It was the sole identity he was allowed, the curse tightening around his mind whenever he tried to remember who he really was. Had been.

Likely never would be again.

Sometimes he looked in the mirror at his own cartoonishly huge eyes and the whiskers that refused to be shaved, and he hated that nameless child that had so-carelessly waved around such powerful magics and changed everything about him and the rest of the town.

He would try to find glimpses of who he used to be, and they seemed lesser everyday.

He was fading away from himself. Dying while still walking around with a body and a voice. Forced to follow the scripted phrases the kid had BURNED into him.

"Welcome to Shiny Town. I’m the Mayor and I’m here to help you."

"Please follow me and I’ll introduce you to the most important people in our town. We’re so glad you’ve finally come, Great Hero. We’ve been waiting for you to come save us."

"The monster has been attacking us for many a night. Good thing you’re here to take care of it."

And the Mayor tried not to think about "the monster," or what the kid had done to it… him? her? Whoever that poor thing had been before the Change.

A part of him was glad not to remember who the monster had once been. Though the searing ache in his heart made him fear the monster had been someone he’d loved.

Someone he could no longer remember, as he was forgetting himself.

He’d touch the clothes in his closet… the dresses, the pretty shoes… and it hurt to know he’d once been different. Happy.

Until that kid had come to town.

/END?

Hogfather at Amazon

Post thumbnail

Fleet On Her Feet

She was fast. She’d always been fast. She could twist and bend her upper body out of the reach of grasping hands while her legs kept moving.

She was liquid mercury. No one could catch her. She liked to see them try.

And they tried. Oh did they try.

Their scuffed shoes barely seemed to touch the ground, laces near always up in the air as they lunged after her. She would have laughed in their faces if she had the time, but she was goal oriented.

The flag fluttered at her waist, cloth brushing against the back of her thigh as she dodged and sped, arms firm around the canvas wrapped book she clutched in her arms.

She could hear the shouts of the watching crowd. Her teammates were the loudest, calling out their encouragement from the sidelines. She was the last of her team left on the field, but as a flag-carrier she was not a hunter but prey. She needed to wait out the clock.

She dodged and dashed. She forced herself to breathe even when the pounding of feet brought dust into the air. She moved to clearer parts of the field, but she did not slow and she did not rest. She wondered how much time was left on the clock, but could only focus on her legs and the hands reaching for the flag.

She spun on her heel–letting a boy taller than her tumble by her knee–and leapt out of the grasping crowd to land near four feet away. She used that bit of lead to carry her as far from them as she could go while still staying on the playing field. She could see how tiredness had them lag off the mark–they’d been much quicker when they’d first met.

She’d trained hard for her speed. She’d watched her legs form muscle and definition from the baby fat and it had filled her with a fierce satisfaction. She liked the play of muscle under her skin. She liked the sense of strength, of capability, of pure physicality as she told her body what to do and it did it even as her thoughts formed.

She felt like a streak of light. Their fingers couldn’t even brush against her. She was too fast.

She glanced at the crowd long enough to see her best friend jumping up and down, screaming at her in sheer excitement. It pushed her to move faster, jump further, and, just when the referee was bringing his arm up to end the match…

She felt him coming, sensed him more than saw him, and was moving before she caught the blur of motion approaching from her peripheral view. She’d attended four ballet lessons just to learn the “fairy princess spin” she’d craved, and it was with a sense of glee that she used it now, twisting her upper body to the right, then pushing off with the toe of her left foot while spinning her upper body back around.

She twirled in the air to land lightly on her feet. The boy that had nearly gotten her flag hit the ground with an audible thud and a puff of air. From his face, he was frustrated but unhurt.

She barely spared him a glance before her best friend was on her, arms closing around her shoulders from behind while joyous screams filled her ears. “You did it! You did it!”

“We did it!” She grinned and hugged back with one arm, her other still holding the book. She hadn’t noticed the weight while running, but her arms were telling her she would be aching later. She didn’t care. “We all did it. We worked together and we did it.”

“We won!”

/END

NEWS RECAP:

First he’s like “Leave me alone,” then the next thing we know he’s full on cosplaying.

I don’t know why people don’t get in trouble once it’s discovered they’re the ones that started a socially harmful or deadly conspiracy.

Since the season is shot, why not let people use plastic sports ponchos as life-saving protective equipment, said none of us. Sure.

It’s so bad… He used to be a unicorn ;_;

The OP noticed the title in a secondary tab and googled it. From that, they discovered coworker’s fanfiction, which they immediately sent to another coworker friend, who blasted it across the office.

It’s like, why the heck would you have that open on your work laptop, ESPECIALLY when you’re making a presentation? That’s basic. And it doesn’t take away from the fact that OP did a terrible thing and seems largely unapologetic about it.

Boo, I say. Boo.

If she doesn’t go to prison… I’mma be mad. Seriously.

A normal person doing the harm she’s done should go to prison. As an elected figure that receives highly confidential information and who promised to be ethical about it… She’s horrible. And her husband–President of the NY stock exchange?–should be fired for some kind of misconduct if not outright criminal actions.

https://twitter.com/KaivanShroff/status/1242452693823692801?s=20

The assumption has always been that in the event of a national emergency, the federal government would supply money and aid supplies to states. There would be government oversight to assure proper and fair dispersion of supplies, and as necessary would command and pay for necessary equipment.

The fact that our government’s infrastructure has been stripped so thoroughly that there’s nobody left behind that knows the proper protocols?

This administration and everyone involved with it should be impeached and locked up in prison. For the safety of the United States and the world.

I was wondering the other day: Because 45 was impeached by Congress–which people assured was a real and legal impeachment–does that open him up to lawsuits and civil action?

I’m sure people are already planning on suing Eric and the various “officials” that spread falsehood in return for short-term stock returns, but I honestly think it needs to go further. These people have profited off the misery and death they’ve sown, and there was no reason for any of it… unless there truly was some Russian collusion. Otherwise they’re destroying everything just to do it, because there were much easier ways to make a buck.

I need to follow up on this part of the Zoom privacy story.

“So what is it that you do?”

“I’m a garden hermit. Eh. It’s a gig.”

I’m very hopeful that at least some people will realize and recognize that a person should be paid a fair wage for a day’s work. And a corporation is not a person, and should not be treated better than a person.

I honestly feel like reality branched off with that election, and somehow we all ended up in the Mirrorverse.

I’m thinking about growing a little beard.

We need more people to speak up and be honest about what’s going on until so many voices are blasting out the truth that neither liar nor fool can say they weren’t fully informed.

Because right now I’m angry. I’m mad at the current administration needlessly killing so many people. I’m mad at those taking advantage of the situation to spread misinformation for their own profit or even just for shits and giggles. And I’m mad that 20-something year olds only had to hear that it’s not as harmful to their age group before they were out on the street partying it up–“If I catch it, I catch it.”

I’m angry that misinformation has been purposefully spread through our school books. I’m angry that our educational system is so flawed that Gen Z doesn’t have a clue where to look for real news, because to them either all news is fake news or they follow the same media lies as their parents.

As a result, people got sick that didn’t need to get sick. People died that wouldn’t otherwise have died.

And tomorrow large masses of people are going to insist that the only way to celebrate Easter is to gather together in a church and everything will be all right. Because how could it not?

This guy. Seriously. This guy.

https://twitter.com/blakesmustache/status/1246061207099932677?s=20

Anyone ready for that newspeak? Yeah. It’s scary to watch them rewriting history as it happens.

https://twitter.com/KevinCarson1/status/1246112246582906881?s=20
https://twitter.com/blakesmustache/status/1246079265692700677?s=20

We NEED vote-by-mail.

The fact that they’re trying to force the United States Postal Service to go out of business to keep us from having vote-by-mail pretty much SCREAMS that we desperately need vote-by-mail.

And to save the USPS.

They are essential for not just voting, but for businesses to affordably ship things to consumers. So unless everyone wants to pay a heck of a lot more for everything they order online… We need the USPS.

They are a vital service.

I don’t know why this milk couldn’t have gone to milk and butter.

Couldn’t the dairy farmers have done like the South Korean potato farmers did and sell their milk at rock-bottom prices? Or if they’d had it all turned into butter and cheese, they could have sold blocks to people pretty much at their leisure.

Dumping it out is a giant waste.

Especially in this time when those dependent on SNAP and WIC are having such difficulty finding foods that match their programs. Everyone is stocking up, which means the affordable food is going first. Which means there are people starving right now because a little kindness is too much.

This is criminal. Criminal. Criminal.

States spend their own money buying supplies, only to have the Federal government confiscate it and redistribute it to other states. Then 45 mocks the original states for not having supplies.

The world has gone mad.

I’d buy that for a dollar.

Yet he was saying that we were fully supplied.

Which we were, before everything got sold to other countries. Because our leadership knew about the virus and the looming pandemic, yet gambled that it was going to be like the SARS of a few years ago where only a couple of Amerians caught it and nothing bad happened except what could have been an awesome stock opportunity if only someone had known about it.

Turns out COVID-19 is not like the SARS of a couple of years ago. Turns out this is actually a serious health crisis that has only been exacerbated by incompetence and criminal behavior.

Things are growing bleaker, and followers of an imaginary playbook think 45 has some kind of magical Other-ken when really he’s a flopping puppet for other hands and we’re all about to suffer terribly for it.

I look around, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to personally do, but I see what the bad people are doing and it is becoming an untenable situation. It’s not just kids in cages anymore. It’s a lot worse.

The election had best be a blue won, otherwise we’re looking at a dystopian future. Because this is America. The land of the John McClane.

And unless things turn out completely The Hunger Games or The Postman, I don’t think most Americans are going to lay down for the fascists.

Rage is already percolating about the war on women, climate change, human trafficking, slavery, child brides, the Boy Scouts, priests, touchy handsy bosses, and the now much deeper issue of vaccination and pandemics. The volcano was already puffing smoke… What kind of person would throw nitroglycerin into the mix?

Bad news, wake news, fake news… It all boils down to the people of the world needing a reputable source of news and public information.

There’s rage all around. It’s better that it be constructively utilized, rather than being left to seethe in the shadows. We need that energy if we want to make a better world for everyone, but it’s a dangerous energy when allowed to languish.

This is perfect.

I think it would be amazing if she were a DLC character in the Mortal Kombat game.

That would be hilarious.

I think the problem started when politicians began to have followers rather than supporters. Because when people out-source their higher thought processes to people that may not have their best interest in mind… Bad things happen.

This is frightening. Medical personnel have got to be blindly walking into COVID-19 situations and handling infected bodies.

She may be brand new, but she definitely wasn’t born yesterday. She knows a good thing when she gets it.

In all reality, doctors and nurses and the janitorial staff that work with them all deserve hazard pay. Because sure, they took the job. That doesn’t mean anyone ever expects to be on the front lines of a pandemic.

They are going above and beyond their jobs. They’re putting their lives on the line in the name of their patients. That’s amazing.

https://twitter.com/TurboTachs/status/1246950413812641792?s=20
https://twitter.com/prmmsd/status/1246806826546495489?s=20

This is either a very self-sufficient cat or the Dr. Strange from the cat-Earth.

https://twitter.com/KatzOnEarth/status/1246850709569581058?s=20
https://twitter.com/JWCM/status/1246955852424032257?s=20
https://twitter.com/blakesmustache/status/1246783797678538752?s=20
https://twitter.com/raseguin/status/1246950852805484544?s=20
https://twitter.com/emiliaheards/status/1247350717662269441?s=20
Meet Karen, representative for all Karens.
https://twitter.com/emiliaheards/status/1247206478467018757?s=20

Ziptie bandage.

https://twitter.com/planetpng/status/1248139859258212354?s=20
https://twitter.com/ParkerMolloy/status/1248311020080238593?s=20

This is neat, but I guess it’s very expensive.

Cool idea, though. I can definitely see other applications for the foot pedal design.

https://twitter.com/daniecal/status/1248307210645577728?s=20

I don’t know when it became an apocalypse cult… But it’s looking a bit apocalypse culty..

This is ridiculous.

The United States Postal Service is a vital service. It needs to be funded.

East Africa is about to be hit by a massive wave of hungry locusts. They’ve already got 20 million hungry people. They’re about to be decimated.

What can be done to help them? The danger time is looking to be around June, though it can be a bit earlier or later.

I know the joke is that the government is out to get people, but that’s supposed to be an idea so far from the truth that it’s ludicrous, and therefore hilariously funny. If the government is actually trying to kill citizens from states it deems “the Enemy,” then we’re looking at a serious problem.

Cheap and affordable to build medical equipment may become something that people will assemble from home and donate to those in need.

Because there are going to be a lot more people in need than there are operable ventilators in hospitals and clinics at this time.

Remember in Pacific Rim where they decommission the jaegers because the massive sea wall was completed and it’s supposed to be the ultimate protection? And then the kaiju goes right through the wall, and it’s only because the ragtag team of Earth defenders have been privately running their own Shatterdome that the kaiju is stopped and the world is eventually saved?

This isn’t an awesome yet admittedly hand-wavy sci-fi movie. This is real life. Why do we have to get rid of the things that work just because we’ve come up with something new? Why can’t we have both?

Because this pandemic is either going to blow over or blow through us. If nothing happens and we’re prepared, it’s an opportunity to laugh and maybe cry in relief. But if it is bad and we’re not prepared, a lot of people are going to die.

And that’s terrible.

Yeah, the virus out of New York originally came out of Europe. I’m making the assumption that someone brought it back from Italy because percentages give me a good chance of being right.

I saw “Delta” and was immediately like “Didn’t I hear some bad stuff about them before?” and then I read the article and wow. Just, wow. They’re evil.

Not only are they putting their employees at risk by not keeping everybody informed, I’m doubtful that they bothered to inform affected passengers. So if you’ve flown Delta since the onset of this whole pandemic… yeah.

I hope they receive money for delivery and tips are just that–the extra thanks someone offers them. Because if they’re living off tips, they’re desperate people being taken advantage of.

And every person that uses the service is an abuser.

That was a good thread. He points out everything clearly and with citations.

https://twitter.com/Amy_Siskind/status/1248964142192607234?s=20

He’s just like “Come on” to the baby ducks, and they waddle waddle right after him. Adorable.

Is this really done on the inside of the bottle? Yep. That would be a bottle fail for me.

Anyways, that was the news recap. I’ll hit you guys up again next week.

Unless there’s a special screaming episode tomorrow night because people insist on gathering for Easter Sunday. I hope people will stay home. But I fear they’re going to be out there putting their children at risk.

Stay home as much as you can. If we all work together, we can flatten the curve.

The 51 people that were seemingly reinfected might prove that we want to bring infection numbers down to 0 rather than riding things out with the hope that the recovered have become immune.

Whatever happens, we’re all going to have to pull together and work together as a larger community. We have to keep our society moving to prevent starvation and death at the hands of the casually cruel.

We have to shine a light on injustice. We have to keep ourselves and others aware and involved with what’s going on.

Because everyone needs to vote in November. Get yourself registered now. Push for vote-by-mail now. Demand reform now.

We have to save democracy. Stop the madness. Vote Blue 2020.

Pax,

~HarperWCK