Category: Imaginary Page 14 of 21

Imaginary Adventures

Body Drop

On June 13, 2020

A surprise date night takes a turn when a dead body falls onto the dance floor. The couple tries to solve the mystery using a music player that allegedly predicts the future using song titles.

Nervously gripped around her date’s arm, Robin Bee squinted as she walked into the Kruder Hotel courtyard decked in red neon lights. Surrounding the dance floor was a colosseum-like stage with three stories. People wore various red themed outfits on the ground level, enjoying themselves by dancing, talking with friends, and flirting with strangers. Two bars spanned the entire bottom of the stage, with seats stationed in front of them. Scattered on the second level were private red tents for more intimate activities, which Robin didn’t have access to visit. Exclusively on the third floor was DJ Red House. He used his purple tentacles to mix popular songs from around the Five Following Planets. The DJ adorned in his trademark red overcoat covered with a dozen pouches, a giant zipper track along the entire length, and a hood.

Robin considered reading more her jam, while Haley Riot was a feisty human filled with the energy of a burning star who could dance until morning. Robin wanted to do something special for Haley, and so she told her to wear a red outfit and meet up at the Crossroads Station for their date tonight. Both Robin and Haley ended up with similar casual apparel of red pants and red t-shirts that matched the event.

A sasquatch in a puffy red dress with three rings around the waist approached Robin and Haley with a tray filled with complimentary drink shots. Robin and Haley each took one, clinked their glasses, and downed their drink. While Haley hollered with excitement, Robin’s face clinched up from the bitter taste of the alcohol. They both thanked the sasquatch as they put their empty glasses on the tray.

“So, what do you think about this party?” Robin asked Haley.

“You slayed it. I love DJ Red House!”

“This concert was a last-minute deal since he was in the city for a business deal. Were you surprised?”

“Well, I might have cheated…”

Robin resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You still think that device predicts the future with song titles?”

“It’s been eerily accurate since I got it,” Haley explained as she pulled out the palm-size white metallic device from her red jeans.

Haley was hastily gifted the digital music player by an older woman with long gray hair. When Robin first heard about Haley’s encounter, Haley described the mysterious stranger as wearing a wrinkled purple robe and gold chains with purple jewels hanging from her neck. This stranger said the song titles would help Haley “right wrongs” before she floated into the sky on a cloud. Robin did admit she had never seen a music player like it when she first saw it, but people had hobbies making one-of-a-kind devices. Without much evidence for either side, Robin shrugged it off and let Haley enjoy her belief.

“How does Robin feel about this party?” Haley spoke to the device and hit the shuffle button on the music playlist. “‘Comfortably Numb,’ it says.”

“I think that’s an accurate description,” Robin admitted as she played with Haley’s rainbow dyed hair. “The music is making me numb, but I’m doing okay because I’m with you.”

“Aww,” Haley teased. She kissed Robin on her blue skin neck. “Good comeback. Let’s see, what is going to happen at this party?” Haley tapped shuffle. “‘Let the bodies hit the flood.’”

Robin mauled over her opinion as the DJ tossed fog bombs onto the dance floor and cracked the volume up. “That’s rather vague. I can attribute a literal meaning to people falling on the floor, drunk.”

“Fine. I’ll ask a more specific question to prove it. What’s the worst thing that’s going to happen at this party tonight?” Haley hit shuffle. “Oh.”

“What? What did it say?” Robin prodded with genuine curiosity.

“Dead Man’s Party,” worried Haley as she stuffed the music player back in her pants while attentively scanning the area for danger.

“You don’t think someone is honestly going to drop dead?” Robin questioned with sarcasm.

A scream erupted from the dance floor, causing the music to stop. Haley rushed over to the scene with Robin following behind, cursing under her breath because she had the feeling she was about to be proven wrong. In the middle of the dance floor was a dead human with his hands tied behind his back.

Haley let out a tiny joyful squee. “A mystery!”

As the hotel staff intervened and began pushing people away from the crime scene, Haley got out her music player.

“You think it can tell you who did this?” Robin asked without sarcasm.

“I’m going to give it a try. Where is the killer?” Haley hit shuffle. “’High Noon.’”

Haley and Robin looked up at the DJ booth and noticed that DJ Red House was gone but didn’t think much of it. High Noon was a vague clue. Neither of them noticed anyone else acting suspiciously on the second or third floor.

“Perhaps I can flat out ask, ‘Who killed the person on the dance floor?’” Haley tapped the player. “It just says, ‘Stranger in a Strange Land.’”

“That’s helpful,” Robin commented as she crossed her arms. “Maybe ask why?”

Haley asked why and tapped the button. “‘Taking Care of Business.’”

“This isn’t going anywhere,” Robin mumbled, resorting back to her belief that the music player couldn’t predict the future.

“Wait. It has to be DJ Red House. Think about it. He was up high in the center. He is a stranger in a strange land since he isn’t from any of the Five Following Planets. He was only doing this concert because of some last-minute business.”

“Maybe,” Robin hesitated. “How are you going to prove all this?”

Haley consulted her music player. “‘Telephone Call from Istanbul.’”

“What’s a telephone, and where’s Istanbul?”

Haley shrugged. “I’m going to question him.”

Before Robin could object, Haley ran off. Robin sighed and followed. As a precaution, Robin activated her danger app on her networker strapped around her wrist. The app had the authorization to record audio and visuals and send all relevant data to her predetermined list of contacts should it detect any harm.

Robin and Haley found themselves inside the hotel building, under the stairway, based on more clues from the music player. Above them was DJ Red House communicating on his networker to another person.

“I’ll meet you at Istanbul tomorrow,” the DJ said in a whisper. “That renegade wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good. No trouble? No one suspects you?” the other person asked.

“The protectors will be here soon, but I made it look like his ex killed him in a drunken accident. I’ll stay here tonight so as not to arouse suspicion. May victory prevail.”

“May victory prevail.”

The DJ ended the call and walked down the stairs. Haley took a step up, confronting him.

“Hey, there, ladies,” DJ Red House flirted. “You looking for a good time?”

“I know you killed that person,” Haley accused. “Just ‘taking care of business,’ weren’t you?”

The flirty smile dropped from the DJ’s wrinkled purple face. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

He reached into four separate pockets on his overcoat, using all four of his tentacles, pulled out his fog bombs, and smashed them on the steps. The stairway filled with smoke, but that didn’t stop Haley from running upstairs after the murderer. The DJ escaped through the second-floor door with Haley not far behind.

“What can I do to stop him?” Haley shouted at her music player. The song title was, “Throw Me Hard.” Haley threw the device at the DJ, hitting him on the head, which, combined with his overcoat’s bulkiness, the DJ lost his balance and landed face-first on the granite floors.

Haley pounced on the DJ, pinning him to the floor. She screamed for help, which Robin heard and had brought two protectors. Haley explained to the protectors how they overheard the DJ talking about killing the victim. Robin collaborated with the recordings on her networker. Both Haley and Robin intentionally omitted the hints from the music player.

Haley and Robin jumped on the subway with the questioning done, leaving the Kruder Hotel mess behind.

“I think this is the beginning of a new career,” Haley proclaimed as she took a seat on the pristine subway.

Robin chuckled. “You going to have some kind of alias for this venture?”

Haley hit shuffle. “Call me, The Sounds.”

Body Drop - Kruder Hotel Courtyard Party - art by Chen Kang at Design Pickle - black and white

For Body Drop, I had a few different sources of inspiration. I wanted to write a story to serve as an origin story for my character, The Sounds, who I have in other unpublished works. The setting was inspired by the following writing prompt: “Everything was going along quite smoothly at the hotel party seeing as everyone was enjoying themselves, that is until a man falls into the middle of the dancefloor from the roof of the building with his hands tied.”

Finally, I asked people on social media to share song titles for me to incorporate into the story. I used the following songs: High Noon by Kruder & Dorfmeister, Stranger in a Strange Land by Leon Russell, Anything from Dead Can Dance, Red House by Jimi Hendrix, Telephone Call from Istanbul by Tom Waits, Let the Bodies Hit the Floor by Drowning Pool, Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd, Renegade by Styx, Taking Care of Business by Bachman–Turner Overdrive, Staying Alive by Bee Gees, and Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo. Some of the songs I used the titles as the hints Haley got while others I wove in other ways with character names.

Story Artwork by Chen Kang at Design Pickle. Get a discount off your first month of Design Pickle via this affiliate link, which full disclosure, I earn a small commission as a discount for me as well.

Thank you for reading and thanks again to everyone for all their suggestions! This was fun and I’ll have to write another short story with The Sounds using social media to source song titles.

If you enjoyed this story, be sure to read the next installment, Testing Predictions on an Abandoned Village.

The Wooden Staff and the Black Envelope

By Dennis

On June 7, 2020

In Imaginary

Upon returning to his home office after getting a snack, Roland finds a magical staff and a black envelope with a dire warning.

Roland’s stomach demanded a tribute. The words he wrote on his computer screen taunted him with their imperfections and lack of direction. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to visualize where to go next, but he knew he was stuck.

“Might as well eat,” Roland grumbled to himself as he pushed away from his desk, imagining himself as a rocket blasting off. “This scene isn’t going anywhere.”

Roland left his home office, thinking about what to eat and not how to write to the kidnapping scene in his latest crime thriller novel. Roland found his husband, Trevor, at the kitchen table, still sorting through Excel data-sheets. While Roland was used to working from home, Trevor was still adjusting to the new normal that they both hoped wouldn’t last forever. Roland had a personal bet that it would take three weeks before Trevor would dress more casually for work. He gently kissed Trevor on the forehead to send a moment of peace to his spouse.

From the fridge, Roland pulled one of the curry meals he made during meal prep day. After microwaving the tray of food, he returned to his office. On the desk was a wooden staff with a black envelope under it. The four-foot long staff was carved out of a white driftwood and had five pointed tips on the top.

“Trevor,” Roland shouted. “Could you come here.”

Trevor walked up to him. “What is it?”

Roland pointed at the unknown objects on the desk. “How did those get on my desk?”

“I was with you in the kitchen the whole time.”

“I know, but how did these get here?”

“Is the window open?”

Roland sat down his curry and checked. “It’s locked.”

“What’s in the envelope?”

Roland picked up the black standard No. 10 envelope, which he only knew the formal name because of Trevor. On the back was a red wax seal pressed with an image of a pair of crossed swords. Without any tools, Roland ripped open the envelope. Inside was a handwritten letter on aged yellow paper.

“When the sun sets, a dragon will emerge at Willson Park,” Roland read aloud. “Use this staff to stop the dragon from destroying your city. May the hearts be with you.”

Trevor let a light chuckle. “This is bizarre.”

Roland sat down the letter and picked up the staff for closer inspection. “Maybe this staff is magical,” he joked as he pointed it at his peace lily in the corner. “I cast magic missile.”

The staff’s tips lit up bright orange and sparked a ball that shot out at the plant. As the plant caught fire, Trevor rushed to the kitchen and brought back their fire extinguisher.

“What did you do!?” Trevor wailed as he put out the fire.

“I don’t know!” Roland defended. “I didn’t think it would do anything. I wonder what else it can do…”

Trevor pointed the fire extinguisher at the staff. “How about you take that thing outside?”

“I should get to the park instead. The sun is starting to set.”

“Are you crazy?”

“You saw what happened. What if there is a dragon?”

“What if there is a dragon? How are you going to stop it?”

“I don’t know yet, but we should go see.”

Trevor sighed. “Fine. Let’s go. I could use the walk and fresh air.”

Tucked away behind their neighborhood, Wilson Park’s most prominent feature was their disc golf course. The playground was tapped off, closed to the public for safety. The park itself was empty except for Roland and Trevor. They stood in an open field near the pond, searching the skies.

All the ducks at the pond quickly flew away, catching Roland and Trevor’s attention as a purple dragon the size of a truck emerged from the pond. Roland pointed the staff at the dragon as the beast marched toward them. Trevor stood behind Roland, armed with the fire extinguisher.

“Keeper of the Staff, my qualm is not with you,” the dragon spoke with forbearing authoritativeness. “I only seek my kidnapped child, but I will destroy those in my path.”

“I was told you would destroy the city,” Roland explained, confused.

“My only concern is for my child, so unless you are here to help me, step aside.”

An idea struck Roland. “Maybe I can help.” Roland waved the staff in a giant circle. “I cast magic portal to the dragon’s child.”

The tips of the staff sparked purple lights. A swirl of bright colors formed in the circle Roland drew in the air until a green dragon the size of a large dog playfully jumped out from the portal. The portal disappeared, collapsing on itself with a cheerful crackle.

“Little one!” the purple dragon exclaimed. “You are safe.”

The little dragon wagged their tail and happily barked at their parent. The parent picked up their child and placed them on their back. With a yawn, the child snuggled against one of the scaly spikes and fell asleep.

“Thank you,” the dragon praised with a forward bow. “Your wisdom and kindness are unprecedented. You forever have my gratitude.”

The dragon walked back into the pond. Roland and Trevor watched in bewilderment as the waves calmed. The staff transformed into duck feathers and blew out of Roland’s grasp, leaving him with no proof.

“I have no idea what just happened here,” Trevor confessed.

“Me neither, but you know what,” Roland said as he put an arm around Trevor. “I think I need to take a hard left with my book and put in a fantasy world.”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You leave your room to grab a snack from the fridge. When you get back, there’s a wooden staff on your desk. Under it, there’s a black envelope.”

“You have 1 unread prophecy”

By Dennis

On May 30, 2020

In Imaginary

On the train home, Skylar gets a mysterious notification on their iPhone that says, “You have 1 unread prophecy.”

Skylar took the first available seat with the least amount of people near it on the train. Thankfully, there were only about a dozen other passengers. Skylar had enough of people today when they got doused with a cold brew coffee by some “Karen” for being too cold. On the bright side, the owner promptly and unapologetically kicked the rude customer out. Skylar already thought their boss was the best with how he loved and accepted everyone, including Skylar, but the way he handled the situation further cemented the title. Another customer, a woman with long, blue hair, dropped a $20 in the tip jar after witnessing the incident, further restoring her faith in humanity.

Skylar took a glance at the sun setting on the Atlanta skyline before turning to their phone to find funny memes. Upon unlocking the iPhone, a new notification popped up: “You have 1 unread prophecy.”

Skylar re-read the message several times. They had never seen such a notification and had no idea what app it could’ve generated it. Curious, they tapped the alert. A message expanded on the screen to warn: “At the next stop, the man in the black suit carrying a black briefcase will get off the tram. A woman in a flora sundress with a red purse, silver bracelet, and sunglasses will follow him. The woman will stalk and kill the man for this briefcase.”

Skylar discreetly looked around the tram car and found the two individuals matching the prophecy’s description.

“This is super freaky,” Skylar whispered so softly that no one could hear. “Those descriptions are way too specific to be a coincidence.”

The train came to a stop. As predicted, Skylar watched the two exit. Skylar hastily debated if they should follow or go home, but just as the doors were about to close, Skylar bolted out. As the train went to the next station, Skylar scanned the area, finding the woman following the man with the briefcase while staying several yards away.

Skylar put up the hood from their Legend of Zelda hoodie and proceeded after them. Skylar wasn’t sure what to do if–or when–the attack happens. Skylar kept their phone out, ready to record, but pretended to be scrolling social media like a typical millennial. It seemed to work as no one paid attention.

A few minutes of stalking, they all arrived at the Atlanta Underground. The historic shopping and entertainment center had little to offer that interested Skylar other than the rare concert. Most of the places were vacant or under construction, which equated to a lack of visitors this Wednesday evening. The man with the briefcase pulled aside a sheet of plastic tarp and entered a construction site. The woman glanced around the area, peeked inside, and cautiously pursued.

“Okay, this is suspicious,” Skylar admitted. Skylar looked around the empty tunnel. “You got this, Skylar. Just stay back, film, and get justice.”

Skylar started recording the video and followed inside. The area with its modern furniture made Skylar suspect it would be an office space for a trendy startup or a coworking venue. Neither the man nor woman were in sight.

“About time,” a deep voice grumbled in the distance.

“This took longer to make than I calculated,” the briefcase man replied.

Skylar kept low to the ground, staying behind desks, quickly reaching the conversation’s source. Using the phone like a periscope behind a cubicle, Skylar saw into an unfinished room with various wires hanging from the ceiling. The man with the briefcase stood professionally in front of a bald man in a brown suit with dark red, reptilian skin. Skylar covered their mouth as their heart began to race. Skylar tried to hold the camera steady as they trembled from the sight of the alien.

The man opened the briefcase. All Skylar could see was a green glow and a smile from the alien. An icy blue bolt of light struck the man, causing him to drop the suitcase on the concrete floor. Before the alien could react, another bolt hit him, dropping him to the ground. The women in the flora sundress walked over to the briefcase and looked inside.

“Contraband secured,” she reported into her silver bracelet as she slammed the briefcase shut with her foot.

Freaked out, Skylar decided to sneak out, but immediately in their haste, tripped over a paint can. The woman readied her weapon, and attentively walked over. Skylar gave up the stealth plan and ran. She fired her gun at Skylar, paralyzing them. The woman rushed over, keeping an eye out for anyone else.

“Sorry, kid,” the woman apologized as she bent down. “You were just somewhere you shouldn’t be, but you’ll forget all about this.”

The woman picked up Skylar’s phone, tapped on it with her bracelet, which unlocked it. She deleted the video and found the prophecy alert. The woman let out a frustrated sigh.

The woman spoke into her bracelet. “We got another innocent human getting one of those ‘prophecies’ to our operations.”

This week’s story was my take on a simple writing prompt about a phone buzzing with a “You have one 1 unread prophecy” notification. As of right now, I’m almost at 18,000 words from all of the short stories I’ve written every week this year!

Be sure to join my email list to be notified whenever I made a new post, including my short stories.

I’ve written another story about a different person that also gets a prophetic warning in You Have 2 Unread Prophecies.

Interview Spoilers

By Dennis

On May 23, 2020

In Imaginary

A time traveler’s interview goes sideways when the interviewee accuses him of having met in the past.

The audio recorder Quis held was real but fake in that he disguised the device to match Earth’s technology in the 2010s. The name on his fictional press badge clipped to his unremarkable black suit identified him as “Hank Williams.” The name was phony, too, of course. However, Quis had grown accustomed to the alias, regularly using the persona for interviews.

Quis carefully constructed a different identity for each interview, usually working for a local publication. Big names tended to be open to talking to local nobody journalists, Quis had discovered. Plus, the background helped with his forgettable persona so people wouldn’t follow up with someone who didn’t exist.

“Mr. Praevalens will see you now,” the secretary informed him.

From the photos on her desk, Hank bet she was a grandmother. She had that kind, grandmotherly vibe. She happily led the way to the office of John Praevalens, the CEO of Close Ground. The technology company dabbled in various avenues, catering to security for governments and businesses.

The golden doors to John’s office were a statement. They weren’t massive–they were standard size for French doors but with a pocket design. The doors depicted a battle in an Aztec-influenced art style. Quis made a note to ask John about the doors as the secretary separated them.

Upon entering, Quis felt a slight buzzing sensation. He almost overlooked the unnatural protection, but he recognized the technology.

Why would they have anti-teleportation security? Quis thought. This planet doesn’t have that at this time. It must be something else I’m sensing.

As an end-timer, Quis wasn’t concerned about having an exit strategy. He could phase through any material and retreat to his time machine. Still, he planned his interviews to avoid resorting to dramatic tactics.

“Hey, old sport,” John greeted with genuine kindness as he firmly shook hands with Quis.

The spry, 30-something John wore his trademark black pinstriped suit. Around his neck was a gold medallion depicting the sun in the same style as his door. The flat medallion was palm-sized. Quis had read an article about John’s devotion to the family heirloom, but seeing the necklace for himself added questions.

First, anti-teleportation and an artifact crafted by a deity or one of us, Quis thought. I’m starting to feel I did not prepare for this interview.

The secretary softly closed the doors behind her as she left the room.

John led Quis to a modernism lounge area with an artistic golden coffee table and curvy, white leather sofas.

“Feel free to set your equipment on the table,” John offered as he took a seat on the couch. “Anything I can get you? A drink?”

Quis sat his audio recorder on the table and took a seat in a matching armchair. “I’m good, thank you. We can get started right away. Your time is valuable, so I appreciate you chatting with me.”

“You know, you remind me of someone. Have we met before, Hank?”

“No, I would remember you.”

John shifted around on his couch. “Odd. I’m pretty good at remembering people. Anyway, carry on.”

Quis pushed the record button. “I want to start by talking about your passions. What are some of the projects at Close Ground that excite you the most?”

“Starting deep, are we?”

“The best way to warm up is to jump in.”

John laughed. “You know, this one will surprise you, but I have to say, Exploring Earth.”

“The travel site?” Quis questioned.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Why?”

“I believe if people traveled more, and spoke with people from around the world, so much of our animosity would be gone. We got some fantastic contributors too. Amber Way showcases places with such enthusiasm that I swear, I want to visit every place she writes about.”

“There are countless stories to be collected,” Quis commented.

“Are you certain we hadn’t met before?” John asked, almost accusing him of lying.

“People tell me I have a familiar but forgetting face,” Quis joked.

John didn’t laugh. He leaned forward. “Everything about you seems familiar.”

“This is my first time interviewing you, sir,” Quis calmly reaffirmed, trying not to be annoyed.

“Yes, but I tend to remember everyone I’ve met. What are you?”

“I’m Hank,” Quis responded, unsure how to answer.

“I asked, what are you? You haven’t aged since you saved my life.”

Quis was now confused. “I beg your pardon?”

“Command Blackout,” John shouted into the room.

The window blinds dropped close. The buzz Quis had first felt when he entered intensified. All the lights went out except for the lamp that stood beside John. Hank’s recorder was still on.

“Your recording device should’ve lost power, which means it’s not from this world. Care to explain?”

“I-I don’t know what to tell you,” Quis stumbled. “Maybe you can tell me who you think I am, and we can figure this out.”

John took a deep breath and relaxed back into the couch. “You saved my life a hundred years ago, Quis.”

Quis’ jaw dropped. “Wait. You know my real name and a hundred years ago?”

John revealed his fangs. “Vampire.”

“Of course, that makes sense,” Quis said as he leaned back into his chair. “But how do we know each other?”

“You rescued me from that theatre fire in New Orleans and helped me fake my death there. Don’t you remember?”

“I’m a time-traveler,” Quis confessed. “For me, I haven’t saved your life yet.”

“Oh.” John was silent for a moment. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything by spoiling that for you.”

Quis chuckled. “It’s probably good that you told me because, unlike my others, I don’t interfere with the past. I only interview people for prosperity and to understand the universe’s life.”

“Well, shall we continue with the interview?”

“I’d like that,” Quis replied.

With the interview over, Quis returned to the alleyway where he left his time machine, a plain brown wooden door in a wood frame. Next to his door was a familiar green door and a familiar face inspecting a flame thrower.

“Gia!” Quis warmly called out to his fellow end-timer. “Good evening.”

Gia put away the flame thrower in her black leather jacket pocket, which was much larger on the inside. She shouted his name and ran up to him with a big hug. Quis returned the hug.

“Who were you interviewing this time?” Gia asked as she let go.

“John Praevalens. Did you know he was a vampire?”

“I didn’t know that. Fascinating.”

“What was that device you were toying with?”

“Just a flame thrower. I borrowed it from the labs at Close Ground. I need it for my play tonight. Want to come along and watch?”

Quis shrugged. “I’m up for a show. When and where?”

“New Orleans, 1919.”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You are the world’s only time-travelling journalist. You use carefully constructed false identities to secretly record your conversations with famous historical figures, and are sworn never to alter the past. However, when you meet with your latest unsuspecting interviewee, they recognize you.”

I took the basic premise of a time-traveling journalist and fitted it in my 16th Phoenix Universe, getting to introduce a new end-timer character, Quis. Quis (which is Latin for “who”) is one of a dozen people from the end of time, along with Gia, Slayer, Loki, Raven, and Kojack, who I’ve also written stories about. More to come as I explore and expand the universe.

Thank you for reading! Be sure to join me on Patreon for early access to my short stories and listen to my exclusive podcast.

Upgrade Cave

By Dennis

On May 16, 2020

In Imaginary

Prompted by a mysterious advert, a pair of mermaids travel to a cave that promises to make people better in every way.

Nerine struggled to keep up with Océane as they swam through the field of neon purple seaweed. Every mermaid at their school was jealous of Océane’s speed and agility. Nerine knew Océane’s vigorous training regiment that she put herself through and honestly didn’t mind trailing behind her best friend. As Océane continuously pushed herself to be better, she didn’t put that pressure on her friends, which Nerine appreciated. Nerine was tough enough on herself.

Nerine put her hand on her networker, which her model resembled the look of a red starfish necklace. A display of holographic icons emitted out from the device. She tapped on the map icon, bringing up a 3D model of the area to figure out where Océane was taking her. No point of interest markers appeared. She sent out a call.

“Where are we going?” Nerine asked, using the networker to transmit her voice as a thought Océane heard via her networker.

“It’s probably fake,” Océane said back. Her networker had the appearance of a smiley face watch around her wrist. “There’s supposedly this cave that promises to make those who enter it better in every way.”

“But, you’re already awesome.”

“You know it,” Océane said with a playful wink. She stopped and faced Nerine for a serious talk. She unzipped a pocket on her black aquatic jacket that sported their school’s logo and pulled out a plastic flyer. “I found this floating around outside after class. This place is guaranteeing to make you better. For all I know, it’s just a drug dealer, or maybe they’re legit in bettering people. I thought with you being a journalist, this could be an interesting story.”

“This could be exciting for our school broadcast,” Nerine admitted. “I don’t get why you didn’t just tell me this upfront.”

“Cause I love whisking you away on an adventure without explanation,” Océane teased as she swam forward, putting the flyer away.

As they swam deeper, the seaweed gradually changed colors from bright neon to a sickly gray, and fish were less common. Océane slowed down, carefully swimming alongside Nerine. Their networkers brought light to the area as they approached a cave. The entrance had a metal facade resembling an immaculate jaw of wolf teeth. There was no signage like the entry was the sign. Nerine thought it was an interesting artistic choice to display strength. From the looks of it, Nerine bet the jaw could open and close too.

“This is the place,” Océane announced, creeped out by the decor. “Think anyone is inside?”

Nerine swam forward. “Might as well find out.”

Océane caught up as Nerine activated her danger app should anything unfortunate happen. The app would send all relevant data, including location and media, to a user-determined list of contacts. Nerine used it almost every time she did an interview. The app has never saved her, but she found it reassuring to have it active.

Upon entering the cave, lines of electric neon yellow lights guided them through. The straight forward tunnel was unnatural in design with spiraling characteristics indicating the work from a drill machine twice their size. They didn’t travel far before they entered a vast, brightly lit room with metallic blue walls.

Down below in the room, they discovered piles upon piles of flayed merpeople corpses mixed with scrap metal. Océane covered her mouth while Nerine used her networker to take pictures of the bodies.

“This is going to be epic,” Nerine said with giddy.

Océane felt the opposite. “Maybe we should leave and contact the protectors?”

“Don’t worry. I already activated my danger app. Let’s investigate!”

A red light focused on them, nearly blinding them. A colossal mechanical octopus – the size of a blue whale – emerged from the bodies, as the red spotlight on its head remained focused on the mermaids. Its black rubber tentacles twirled about with no pattern nor motive, but they still put the two on the defensive. Its white eyes housed in the metallic silver body were the size of Nerine and Océane. Overall, the mechanical was in pristine condition without any visual indication anyone had fought it.

“Have you come here for an upgrade?” the octopus asked with a lively, elitist tone. “I can make you swim faster and be stronger, leaving your weak flesh behind.”

“I like who I am,” Océane firmly defended.

“What she means is,” Nerine interjected, “we would like to know more about this upgrade service before we commit.”

The octopus opened its mouth, revealing an automated factory soaked in blood. “I strip the flesh that makes you weak and replace your mind with blissful logic.”

“Oh, well, as I said earlier, I’m happy with who I am, so we’ll just be leaving now.”

“Why?” Its eyes changed color to red. “When you can be better.”

The mechanical whipped out a tentacle at the mermaids. They split up, dodging the grab.

Robot Discovery - art by Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle

“Get out of here, Nerine! I’ll distract it.”

“Got it! I’ll see if we can’t lock it in.”

Nerine escaped through the tunnel while the tentacles pursued Océane. She dodged every swipe until she caused the mechanical to get tied up in a knot with two of the tentacles. With it focused on trying to undo the knot, Océane zipped out through the tunnel. The yellow tunnel lights were now dark red. Another tentacle followed.

Océane made it out of the cave.

“Océane, help me close this!” Nerine called out. She was on top of the entrance with her back against the metal jaw, trying to shut the door.

Océane swam up to help, but then the tentacle wrapped itself around her.

“Barnacles!” Océane cursed as she fought to wiggle free.

Nerine gave an extra hard push, causing the jaws to close and bite off the tentacle. It immediately loosened its grip on Océane. Nerine hugged her friend, and she hugged her back.

“Let’s get out of here,” Nerine suggested.

“Agreed. That should be the last of that.”

“I don’t think this is over yet.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You saw all those corpses. What if it did convert merpeople into mechanicals?”

This week’s short story was roughly inspired by the following writing prompt: “There is a strange cave where, rumor has it, the people who go in come out better in almost every way. Deciding to investigate you walk into the cave, and soon discover piles upon piles of flayed corpses.”

I haven’t written any short stories on the Blue Planet, which is part of the Five Following Planets system. I liked how this turned out, especially the “is it over” ending.

I feel like this story has the potential to be a young adult novel. I got a few ideas of what that story could look like and how parts connect with my universe. I’ll see what people think, but for now, thank you for reading!

UPDATE: It’s officially going to be a book. This and their other story, Temple Guardian, are part of the book.

Thank you to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing this scene to life with both pieces of artwork!

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