Tag: Earth Page 7 of 8

Hashtag Cult Problems

On April 18, 2020

A cult’s ritual goes wrong when their sacrifice doesn’t die.

When the sack came off Gia’s head, she found herself strapped upright on a spinning wheel in a dimly lit circus tent. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her. After seeing the performers’ mind-blowing act, she had to know how they did it for her shows. While she was sneaking around after the show, someone snuck up behind her with a sack over her head. Now, she hung before a cult-like gathering.

Using her crowd scanning skill, Gia counted 30 people in bright clown nose red robes with white plastic masks of a cartoonishly broad smile. The outfit vaguely reminded Gia of a production, but what that was was a hazy memory.

“We are gathered together here under the first full moon of the new decade for our sacrifice,” the cult leader announced. Gai recognized the voice belonged to the circus ringleader.

The crowd cheered. The only thing Gia could spot on the cult leader that made him stand out from the others was a golden inverted pyramid necklace.

“Sacrifice, huh?” Gia said with excited curiosity. “If I may make a suggestion, the lighting is awful. How are people going to see me die? Do you have anything else other than the string lights, like some massive LED stage lights? Surely you got some of those. Although I do like the lights on this wheel, you got me strapped to.”

“We can see well enough,” the cult leader grumbled.

“If you say so,” Gia snarked. “By the way, what’s your cult or organization or whatever’s name? Or is this some tradition with your circus?”

“We are the Cult of Mischief,” the leader proclaimed.

Gia remembered the show she was trying to pin down earlier. She giggled like she was part of an inside joke.

The leader picked up the jewel-encrusted ceremonial dagger from a pedestal and pointed it at Gia. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, you’ll find out. Carry on.”

The leader faced the crowd. “Let the ceremony commence!”

With the crowd cheering, the leader stabbed Gia in the chest. Silence fell.

“Oh, what cruel world,” Gia cried out. “There was so much I wanted to do. There’s so much in this world I wanted to see. But now, my time has come. Farewell.”

Gia’s body went limp. The cultists chanted in unison, “Our sacrifice is yours. Take this soul and bless us.”

Per cult order, the youngest member pulled out the knife from the sacrifice.

Gia raised her head, unharmed, and smiled. The cult gasped.

“Okay, I thought that was a rather stirring death performance,” Gia said.

“How are you not dead?” the young cultist asked with a quiver in her voice.

“You picked the wrong kind of person for a sacrifice. Hashtag cult problems, am I right?”

“We cannot stand for this,” the leader said. “Our god will not be pleased with us.”

“You mean, Loki?” Gia said. “I’m sure he’s getting a good chuckle right now.”

The leader got in Gia’s face. “How do you know of our god?”

“Oh, we go way back,” Gia explained and then thought about the chronological order of time. “Or forward technically. He casted me as the Cult of Mischief’s first leader centuries ago to fool some traveling act for him to study their reactions. I’m surprised the cult is still around, to be honest, but knowing him and his partner, I bet they’re watching, studying.”

There was a hushed discussion amongst the members when two people revealed themselves from a stack of cargo containers. One was a slender man in a pink suit with bold, black outlines and a young woman in a red satin dress holding a transparent tablet device. Both had black hair and flowed in sync with each other.

“It’s them!” one of the members shouted. “From the painting of the first ritual.”

All the cult members dropped to their knees.

“Loki! Raven!” Gia greeted with a bright, cheerful smile. “how are you two doing?”

“I must admit, I find it humorous they tried to sacrifice you,” Loki dryly said while adjusting his cufflinks as they approached Gia.

Raven worked on freeing Gia. “It’s been fascinating studying the cult’s evolution throughout the centuries.”

“But I am growing bored of it,” Loki confessed.

“Shall we end?” Raven asked him.

“Yes, let’s go out on top.” Loki turned to address the cultists, who were still bowing down. “Since you tried to kill my sibling, I will now forsake you and no longer give you my blessings – ever. Begone!”

The cultists scattered away as Raven undid the last strap around Gia.

“Thanks,” Gia said as she hopped down. “What’s next for two?”

Loki and Raven exchanged glances and spoke in unison. “More mischief.”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You have been kidnapped by a cult preparing to sacrifice you to their god. Problems? You’re immortal, the god they worship is a close friend of yours and the entire cult was the result of a prank you forgot you pulled centuries ago.”

I got inspired by this prompt to write a story with my end-timer characters as I thought this would be a great situation for them.

Thank you to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing this scene to life.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this story, be sure to check out my others with Gia, Loki, and Raven.

The Impossible Exit

By Dennis

On April 4, 2020

In Imaginary

All Emma wanted was a relaxing bath after a long week, but her apartment elevator wanted to lead her down an impossible hallway.

The days and weeks had become a blur. The only reason I knew today was Saturday was because Becky posted a bubble bath selfie while holding a wine glass with the hashtag #SaturdayQuarantineQueen. I was going to copy my friend. As soon as I get inside my apartment, the bra is coming off, and then I’m going to toss my scrubs in the wash and soak in the tub until I’m a prune or catch myself falling asleep.

My apartment elevator was empty when I stepped inside. Good. I felt too gross to be around people. With all of the non-essential businesses closed, everyone was probably already inside. I pressed the button for my place on the 14th floor, which technically was the 13th floor, but thanks to superstition, my floor was labeled the 14th. Whenever one of my friends came, they would always make snarky jokes about being on an unlucky floor. Sure, the comments annoyed me, but I would welcome the remarks if that meant seeing my friends again.

“I would do anything to get life back to normal,” I muttered.

The elevator arrived. I heard a ding, and the elevator doors opened, but I stood directly facing the door, and they didn’t move. I pressed the door open button, but nothing happened.

A murky breeze tingled my back. The elevator was single-sided, but out of confusion, I turned around to find a dimly lit, curved hallway that was impossible to be there. This room didn’t fit the building’s design at all. The digital floor display read 13, which was impossible. I pushed the close door button.

Nothing.

I pushed again, and a voice whispered down the hall, “Emma.”

“Who’s there?” I yelled back.

“Emma,” the voice called to me, louder this time.

Something about the tone reminded me of my grandmother, but I wasn’t going to leave. Then the elevator dropped a foot like the brakes had lost their grip. Between two awful choices, I choose to hurl myself out. The doors slammed shut behind me faster than they usually would.

The faded red wallpaper of the hallway had seen better days, while the dome light fixtures along the walls seemed oddly modern to me. Not that I had any experience wandering down spooky hallways. The smell reminded me of the older parts of my college library I had explored for historical books.

I turned around to the elevator, only to find a wall.

“Guess I’m not going that way.”

I followed the curved hallway, looking for doors, but the hall kept spiraling downward. The voice calling my name got louder the further down I went. When I felt like I had traveled below the building, the voice stopped as I arrived in front of a stained glass window of the caduceus staff. I felt protected standing in the light of the two red snakes entwined around the golden-winged staff. Burning candles were placed around, like the Día de Muertos shrines I would set up with my family.

“Free me,” the voice begged.

“How?” I asked.

“Free me,” the voice repeated, weaker.

I sighed as I took off my shoe. Channeling my softball days, I threw the shoe at the window, shattering the glass.

The voice cried out in glee, “Yes.”

A ghostly woman with a sewage-like glow floated up and out from the window. The bandages wrapped around her were torn and tattered. Her face was brittle and mummified. She smiled, revealing no teeth.

The spirit charged at me, but a staff like the one depicted in the window struck her down.

“Not today, pestilence creature,” the old man wielding the staff ordered. He turned toward me and pointed at a door behind me that looked like my front door. “Go. Don’t give up the fight.”

The creature rose back up. “One of my sisters is already free. I can feel that you’re weak–it is delicious–and not many believe in you anymore.”

“Others will fight back, even if not in my name.”

The two fought as I ran for the door. I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open into my apartment. I slammed the door behind me, and, catching my breath, I collapsed against my barrier between whatever I experienced.

I was so ready for a bath.

The Impossible Exit - art by Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “Saturday night after a long week, you’re riding the elevator up to your apartment, it stops on your floor, and the back opens.”

I went back and forth on the ending of this story. I thought about having the scene end with the trapped monster smiling, but I wanted to end on a somewhat hopeful note. I hope you enjoyed this story and wash your hands!

The Stranger in the Dark Suit

By Dennis

On March 28, 2020

In Imaginary

The man that has been haunting Tyler’s nightmares for the past several days takes the same bus as him.

Tyler jolted awake, with sweat on his chest. The breeze from the overhead fan barely cooled him down. It was that weird time in March where the weather couldn’t make up its mind if it wanted to be hot or cold, so Tyler simply slept with only the fan.

“Fucking stranger again,” Tyler whispered, keeping his voice low as not to disturb his lover.

Tyler placed his arm around his partner, falling into a calming embrace to ease his mind away from the recurring nightmare. It was always the same theme. Tyler would be running away from a tall man in a dark suit, like something from the 1920s, and every time, this stranger would catch him and graphically kill him. The locations and deaths would vary, but the figure was persistent. Tyler’s partner had shrugged it off as him playing too many video games, but Tyler felt there was something more to it. He thought it might be a result of anxiety from his new job and the world crisis.

The next morning, Tyler waited on the street outside his apartment for his regular bus to take him to the downtown luxury hotel. The day had an eerie vibe, but the past several days had felt ominous. He figured he would eventually become accustomed to the new reality of living during a pandemic virus outbreak. On the positive side, he was grateful his work got deemed essential, although he couldn’t work from home.

As the bus came to a stop, Tyler strapped on his homemade face mask, and climbed inside. Every other seat was blocked off with a yellow sign warning, “FACEMASK REQUIRED.” The bus was empty save for one man standing near the back dressed in a black suit with a matching fedora. Tyler froze in the aisle when he saw him. He couldn’t help but stare. Even with the mask on, Tyler’s gut knew it was the stranger from his nightmares.

“Take a seat,” bus driver ordered.

Tyler snapped back to the present. “Sorry.”

As Tyler took a seat, he could’ve sworn the man winked at him, like he was trying to say, “Yes, it’s me.” Tyler faced the front of the bus and browsed his social media feeds to forget. The news was the same – doom, gloom, and blame. He switched over to his camera to spy on the stranger in the back who was starring soullessly ahead.

The bus announced Tyler’s stop. It was a few blocks away from the hotel, but he was at his favorite coffee shop. He wanted to help keep them in business. As Tyler got off, so did the stranger.

“Be cool,” Tyler told himself. “He’s not following you.”

Tyler stepped inside Clarity Coffee while the stranger walked by. He let out a sigh of relief. Tyler kept his social distance, got his to-go-coffee, and made the journey to work.

Downtown was quiet. Most everyone was working from home after all. As he crossed a street, he got a feeling he wasn’t alone. He looked behind him and saw the stranger in the dark suit.

“It’s just a coincidence,” Tyler assured himself, “but to be sure…”

Tyler turned the corner down an alleyway. He looked behind but didn’t see the stranger. Tyler turned forward. The nightmare stood in the center of the alley with his arms crossed, and his eyes fixated on him. Tyler turned around and ran, but he ran right into the stranger.

The stranger lifted Tyler from the throat. Tyler screamed, but everyone was hiding from the invisible threat terrorizing the world.

“I’m only going to warn you once,” the stranger spoke with military firmness. “Tell anyone that the hotel you work at is haunted–especially journalists–and I’ll make your nightmares of me a reality.”

The stranger dropped Tyler, who collapsed to the pavement with fear. When he looked up, the man had vanished.

This short story was inspired by current events and the following writing prompt: “You have a recurring dream of being chased by a mysterious man in a dark suit almost every other night. This morning when getting on the bus to work, you see him sitting in the back and make eye contact. He winks at you.”

Story Artwork by Keith Zarraga 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.

The Spiral Staircase in the Woods

By Dennis

On March 14, 2020

In Imaginary

During a morning jog, two friends take a detour to explore a mysterious spiral staircase that leads to a trap.

Sydney had long since accepted Chloe’s need to pause, change course, and explore during their weekly jog together. In the beginning, Sydney was annoyed by her friend’s curiosity as she preferred to keep a steady pace. After several exciting detours, she grew to love the deviations as they added a sense of adventure. Sydney often found herself jogging alone for brief periods before realizing Chloe wasn’t by her side, but this time, Chloe put her arm in front of Sydney to stop themselves.

“Look at that,” Chloe said, pointing out toward the woods.

Sydney scanned the scene. Behind a battered and boarded manufactured house stood a spiral metal staircase that reached up into the treetops.

“That’s weird,” Sydney commented. “It reminds me of that suspended staircase public art piece in Automobile Alley.”

Chole raised both arms into the air. “We should climb it!”

“I don’t know if that’s safe…”

“I bet it was put there on purpose so you can see the birds. Don’t you want to see the birds, Syd?”

Sydney sighed. “I’ll do it for the birds.”

“Yay!” Chloe cheered as she jogged to the staircase.

Sydney followed. Without a second thought, Chloe ran up several steps while Sydney stopped to inspect the staircase for safety. The staircase didn’t fall with Chloe going full force, but Sydney wasn’t sure how exactly the steps were standing as she couldn’t see any wires or beams holding the structure in place.

Chloe ran up several more stairs. “Come on. It’s safe.”

Sydney chased after her friend, who ran up higher, giggling. They reached the top, which led to a metal-enclosed balcony capable of holding a small group of visitors. The sun started to rise off in the distance as Sydney stood next to Chloe.

They soaked in the warmth of the sunrise as the sun painted the sky a vibrant orange. Neither of them said anything to each other. Sydney glanced over at Chloe, watching the sunlight glide over her freckled face. She turned back to the sky, searching for any birds.

After a moment, Sydney could sense Chloe’s restlessness. “Ready to head down?”

Chloe bolted. “Last one down has to buy brunch!”

“Cheater!” Sydney shouted as she after her friend.

Chloe only managed to stay a few steps ahead. Sydney knew she could beat her, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t seem to get past her. She kept running and running and running, never gaining on her.

Sydney stopped to catch her breath, and so did Chloe. “Shouldn’t we be down by now?”

“Yeah, going downstairs is always easier and faster.”

“I see the bottom,” Sydney said, trying to rationalize their predicament.

“Me too,” Chole said as she started to walk down. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

The two walked down the stairs, keeping an eye on the grassy floor. Neither could explain the phenomenon, but the more they went down, the more they did not get any closer to the bottom.

“I’m starting to freak out a bit now,” Chloe confessed.

Sydney looked over the rail. We’re too far to jump safely, she thought. Out of a sense of placement, she looked up. There were two people on the balcony.

“There are people up there.”

Chloe looked up. “How did they get there?”

“Let’s go find out.”

In the balcony viewing area stood a tall, slender man in a white and pink suit with a woman of a similar build, but a little shorter and in a red dress holding a tablet device. Their similar hair and face structure made Sydney assume the two were siblings. Behind them was a white metal door with a golden accent strip.

“Looks like they found us, Raven,” the man said as Sydney and Chloe reached the top.

“Indeed they have, Loki,” the woman said.

“Do you think they know what’s wrong, Raven?”

“I think they suspect something, Loki.”

“I think you are correct, Raven.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Sydney demanded.

“Shall we tell her, Raven?” Loki asked.

“I think you should tell her, Loki,” Raven responded.

“But you have a way with the words, Raven.”

“As do you, Loki.”

“Would one of you explain what’s going on?” Sydney interrupted. “I don’t care who. Take turns if you must.”

“This staircase is a construct of your fears, Sydney,” Loki explained.

Raven tapped on her tablet. “Like any fear, the only way to break free is to confess your truth.”

Loki opened the door. On the other side was an impossible night scene of a series of office cubicles. Raven stepped inside, followed by Loki. “Good luck.”

Loki closed the door behind him. The door disappeared in a blink the moment the door shut.

“What truth do you need to confess?” Chloe asked, visibly freaked out.

Sydney looked into Chloe’s eyes. Actions are more powerful than words, she thought to herself right before she kissed Chloe. Chloe returned the embrace. When they parted, they discovered they were on the ground where the staircase once stood.

“Been waiting for that,” Chloe admitted.

Sydney smiled. “So, who has to buy brunch?”

“I think we’ll count that one as a tie.”

Out of sight in the abandoned home, Loki and Raven watched as Chloe and Sydney jogged off together. Loki tossed Raven a golden coin, which she caught and put in her dress pocket.

“You won that one,” Loki admitted. “I thought it would’ve taken them much longer to escape.”

“Don’t worry. You got more opportunities.”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You’re walking home and you see a solitary staircase in the woods behind an abandoned house. They go up into the treeline. Out of curiosity, you start walking up them. After walking up for a while you decide to go back but never reach the bottom. When you look back up again you see the top.”

Thank you to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing the platform scene to life. If you want to read another story with Chole and Sydney, check out The Oak Tree Box.

Lost Angel

By Dennis

On March 7, 2020

In Imaginary

While several deities prepare for game night in Hades’ library, an angel crash lands in the underworld, bringing a mystery.

“Hades, can we keep him?”

“Persephone, it’s not a small pigeon to nurse back to health, it’s an angel.”

A chihuahua bolted between Hades’ feet to sniff the slightly crumpled angel lying on the white-marble floor in front of them. Several more of Hades’ dogs popped their heads out from around the library to investigate the commotion.

Hades looked at the pieces of the stained glass window scattered around the library. At least the angel didn’t crash through my favorite window, Hades thought on the positive side although the angel did leave a streak of blood on his clean floors. Hades suspected some of the blood that covered the angel came from whatever he fought before the fall.

“He’s so precious,” Persephone whispered as she glided her fingers over the angel’s smooth, youthful face. “I wonder where he came from?”

“I’m sure someone will be here shortly to collect him,” Hades assured as he picked up his chihuahua. “Leave him be. Our guests are about to arrive for game night, and I, for one, would like a break.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” a joyous voice announced.

The chihuahua barked and jumped out of Hades’ hands. The tiny dog ran to a white-bearded man dressed in red shorts and a topical button-up t-shirt while carrying a large red sack. Dogs of various sizes and breeds rushed to the newcomer with their tags wagging. The man opened up his bag and tossed out dog cookies.

“Santa, you jolly bastard,” Hades greeted with excitement. “What games did you bring for us today?”

“Depends on who ends up joining us,” Santa replied while petting all the dogs. “I got Ticket to Ride, Cards Against Humanity, Catan, Midnight Zombie Sabotage, and a bunch more. I left Pandemic at the workshop. Seemed a bit too real given current events.”

All the lights and flames in the library flickered off then returned with a gradual spread away from a midnight-skinned goddess with a glittery dress.

“You’re here, [Goddess of Shadows*]!” Persephone shouted with glee as she ran over and hugged her friend. (*Persephone called the goddess by her true name, but her name becomes her title for those not allowed to know it.)

As the two embraced, the Shadow Goddess caught sight of the fallen angel. “Are we doing a murder mystery game tonight?”

“Ooh! Yes! Let’s solve the mystery of who killed the angel,” Persephone encouraged. She put on a gray deerstalker cap that she conjured from her purple dress pockets. “The game is afoot.”

“I told you,” Hades spoke in a calm tone, “someone will be here for him any—”

Flying down from the hole the angel made, a green dragon landed next to the injured angel. The dragon morphed into a humanoid form.

“Neon!” Persephone cheered. “I thought you were working?”

“I’m technically here for him,” Neon said as he lifted the angel. “This human wished to be an angelic warrior. Obviously, that had consequences. Thank you for not tossing him aside.”

“I knew someone would be here to collect him,” Hades said with a modest tone. “Wasn’t expecting it to be you. The kid made a wish, huh?”

“Yeah, around Volo Grant.”

“I’m sure Volo feels awful,” Santa commented. “That kid tries so hard, but he can’t control the wishes.”

Neon stretched out his wings. “Thank you again for watching him. I’d better get back to Earth.”

Dionysus joyfully strolled in the library with a case of wine as he watched Neon fly away through the ceiling with an angel in his arms. “Did I miss anything?”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “Hades can we keep him?” “Persephone, it’s not a small pigeon to nurse back to health, it’s an angel,” the discussion goes as they look at the slightly crumpled figure laying in front of them.

Thank you to Mikey Marchan at Design Pickle for bringing this scene to life!