Tag: Veritas

“You Have 3 Unread Prophecies”

On January 7, 2022

A morning news show host receives three tips on his phone about the future as he spends time with his sister.

Ever since our parents died, my sister and I made a point to take a weekend vacation around their wedding anniversary as our way of honoring them. We lived in separate states, living separate lives, so getting together once a year – just the two of us, no spouses – would’ve made our parents happy.

This year was my sister’s turn to pick a destination. She watched a travel video showcasing the moonshine, mountain gondolas, and food in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. When she suggested Gatlinburg, I was surprised as the city was nowhere near a beach like she favored, but after doing some research, I was excited to visit too.

Weekends were easy for me to take off but tricky for Sarah. My sister was the Operations Director for a lake resort while I was a co-host for a morning news show. Our parents’ anniversary was toward the end of March, which was a slow period for her work.

After breakfast at the hotel, we visited one of the local moonshine distilleries. We tried Friday night when we first arrived, but we didn’t have the patience to deal with the crowd. Plus, we’d figured we would have better luck in the morning. Gatlinburg’s walkability motivated us to leave our cars at the hotel. (Side tip: you should do the same as parking is hard to come by.)

The winter season still had a grip on the trees, but the skies were clear and sunny, although cold enough to warrant jackets for us as Sarah led us into Ole Smoky Moonshine. Marcus (I think that was his name) entertained us with jokes and samples of six different moonshines. I liked the sour lime while she favored the apple pie flavor. The pickle was…interesting.

My phone buzzed as my sister stepped away to use the restroom. There was a notification that read, “You Have 3 Unread Prophecies.” I had no idea what app of mine would display such a message. I opened the notification, which brought up an app I didn’t own with a mail-like interface.

The first message said, “Bring cash for donuts.” I didn’t have any cash on me at the moment, but I remembered seeing an ATM outside the building.

“That’s a good tip,” I said as I swiped open the following prophecy.

“Go to Clingmans Dome when prompted.”

When I drove through the Smokey Mountains to get to Gatlinburg, I saw a sign for Clingmans Dome. I didn’t know anything about the place, but the name and location made me think this dome would be like an observation post. I was game to visit. I figured I could get some breathtaking photos.

The last message was the most crypt and eyebrow-raising one. “When you arrive, have your video camera ready, but be safe and don’t get caught.”

This is all so weird, I thought. I bet my sister sent these. She knows of my affection for donuts and exploring.

I tried to re-read the messages, but the app disappeared.

My sister returned. “You ready for our next stop?”

“Sure,” I said. “Just let me hit up this ATM for some cash.”

“Good idea,” Sarah said with a straight face.

With cash now in my wallet, we strolled over to The Village, which had German architectural motifs in a cute, walkable shopping district. The place was like nothing I’d experienced before. Buildings weaved all over the place, not following any sort of grid pattern like a standard city block. Since there were no streets, delivery people hauled packages on handcarts, which I’m sure was also quite the workout for them. There were hardly any flat surfaces. I took picture after picture with my iPhone.

Then as the prophecy foretold, we discovered the donut shop that only accepted cash. The warmth and smell of fresh donuts in the tiny cottage-like business brought a wide grin to my face. Using the money I pulled out, I paid for our treats.

“Good thing I got some cash,” I said with a wink to my sister as we each enjoyed a chocolate long john.

“Yeah, good thing.” Her casual reply and straight face made me wonder if she did indeed send me those prophecies. She changed the subject. “What do you want to do after lunch, Lucas?”

I thought for a moment. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a woman with long, vibrant blue hair starring at me, but she turned away and around a building. I shrugged the watched feeling off. “Maybe we can drive around or go hiking.”

“How about Clingmans Dome?” my sister asked. “I saw a photo taken out there in the hotel lobby and thought you would like to take some pictures yourself.”

I laughed.

Sarah crossed her arms. “What’s so funny?”

In my big brother teasing voice, I said, “Nothing.”

She repeated “nothing” in a mocking tone and then asked what I wanted for lunch. I told her anything, and she suggested we walk around some more and eat wherever caught out attention. We settled for a small burger joint, which I thought was okay. Every summer, we would do a special on creative burgers on our morning show, so I was spoiled. Technically, I’m spoiled on excellent food because of my job, but I appreciate all food, and I didn’t nitpick. My sister liked the place, and that was good for me.

Then as planned, or prophesied, we took my car and made the hour-long drive to Clingmans Dome. The information we found online warned that the road to Clingmans Dome may be closed for the season, but the gate was open for us. Despite being the weekend, the parking lot for the vantage point was empty. We chalked the lack of visitors as luck, or maybe this was the first day they opened for the season? We weren’t going to complain.

We didn’t get far into the hike when we saw a woman dressed like a spy with a long, black trench coat talking to a blue, reptilian alien creature. The alien had on this black leather outfit that made me think he needed extra warmth while also being ready to fight. I yanked my sister down, and we hid behind some rocks.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“You tell me,” I mocked, keeping my voice low as I pulled out my cellphone. “This was your plan for me to film this, huh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I believed her. But who sent me those messages?

My phone had full cell service, which I thought was odd as I didn’t have any bars on the way up. I started a live stream on my Instagram. I positioned my phone like a periscope to watch without them seeing me.

“This is an interesting location you picked.” The woman’s tone didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the location. She pulled in on her jacket.

The alien checked his surroundings. “I wanted to make sure we would be alone.”

“Of course,” said the woman. “I understand.”

The alien brought up the briefcase to his chest. “See, I don’t think you do understand. My sources told me that some other people who tried to sell to your group are never heard from again.”

The woman scoffed. “Don’t believe in rumors. Do you have the artifact?”

“My price has doubled.”

“Don’t be obscene. Give me the item at our original price.” The woman snapped her fingers, signaling the alien to bring over the briefcase.

“And cut!” I about dropped my phone from the sharp, booming voice. The voice seemed to startle the people, too, because they both jumped. A woman with a long, flowing red scarf marched from around the corner and straight toward the two people. “I think we’re done here.”

I looked around for any other film crew, but I only saw the director. My only explanation was that they were on wireless mics, and this was a drone shot, so everyone was out of sight. At least, that’s how my brain processed their setup at first.

A fire truck honked its horn as they pulled up behind us.

The woman with the alien held up both hands like she was trouble. “Director Lux. This isn’t what you think-”

The director turned and looked at us. “Hey, how did you two get on this set?”

I stepped forward and sort of explained. “The front gate was open.”

“That gate should’ve been locked. Now, get out of here,” the director ordered. “I better not see any footage online.”

“Right, sorry.” My sister had a good laugh at the situation. I turned off the live stream and deleted the clip.

The firetruck pulled in front of us, blocking the path. People dressed in uniforms like no other firefighter I had ever seen got out from the vehicle. I shrugged them off as actors. Before we returned to my car, Sarah said she needed to use the restroom. Luckily, there was an outhouse next to us in the parking lot.

I listened to the film crew on the other side as I waited.

I heard the alien character complain. “I should’ve known you would’ve double-crossed me.”

“I’m in cuffs too,” the spy snapped back. “Hey, how did you find us anyway?”

“Lucas was live-streaming you, idiots,” the director said. “Our V.I. monitor caught the feed and dispatched us. You got a lot of explaining to do.”

The spy grumbled something I didn’t understand, but I understood when she said, “I bet he got a text message disguised as a prophecy.”

In the fall, my wife and I, along with my parents and sister, visited Gatlinburg. We didn’t even spend a full day there, but we knew we all had to come back (during a warmer month). I used the location as inspiration for the third unread prophecy stories, which are connected by the end-timer, Veritas, working to anonymously expose the illegal activities of a rouge fraction of Unity.

Thanks to Janine De Guzman and Mikey Marchan for bringing the scene at The Village to life. Thank you for reading my December short story. I got another one coming for January. Been busy with the holidays, client work, and sickness last month.

Happy Adventures!

You Have 2 Unread Prophecies

By Dennis

On March 13, 2021

In Imaginary

After getting off the San Francisco trolly, a young woman receives a notification on her phone about two unread prophecies. When the first one comes true, her curiosity compiles her to investigate the second one, despite its danger.

Claudia could not think of a single previous instance of taking the San Francisco trolly with practically no other riders. There was another person, a woman with long, curly blue hair. Claudia considered dying her hair blue, but all of her friends insisted she kept her natural red hair. As she marveled over the woman’s blue hair, Claudia wondered how expensive and how long was the process to get such vibrate color for hair that went down to the knees.

The woman with blue hair glanced at Claudia, prompting Claudia to look away. The stranger smirked and looked out the window.

“Don’t stare,” Claudia whispered to herself.

Claudia turned her attention back to the empty trolly. The lack of people was nice at first, but as no one else boarded, the entire trip began to feel like a bad omen. Where is everyone? Is there a big event going on? Did something terrible happen? She could feel the whole trolly getting wider and bigger with each passing moment while the other passenger was jamming out to tunes on her headphones.

When Claudia’s stop finally arrived, she bolted out, nearly tripping on the steps on her way out. She could feel her face light up on fire with embarrassment, but the driver didn’t seem to notice as they said nothing and carried forward.

“What was that all about, Claudia?” she said to herself. “Come on, now.”

Claudia spent her first minute of freedom letting the world resize back to normal. She focused on her breathing and then listened to the sounds of the city. Feeling composed, she realized she hadn’t looked at her phone since leaving the coffee shop. She pulled out her iPhone from her laptop bag.

On the phone was a notification: “You have two unread prophecies.”

Claudia re-read the notification three times to ensure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. She thought this might’ve been something from one of her games getting her attention, but none of those had anything to do with prophecies. She tapped the banner, which brought her to her text messages.

The first message warned: “Watch out for the firebird.”

Claudia scratched her head. “There’s no such thing as a firebird.”

Curious, she scrolled down to the following message, which warned, “A woman in a black dress with a matching briefcase and a pink scarf will get off the next bus. A man in a brown suit and a brown briefcase will follow her and kill her.”

“That’s specifically odd.” Claudia put her phone back in her bag. She then corrected herself. “Or oddly specific, but totally fake still.”

As she snapped her bag close, a pair of car headlights blasted her eyes. She looked up to a red convertible with a flaming bird painted on the hood swerving in her direction on the sidewalk. She leaped out of the way, avoiding the car. The careless driver continued to weave down the hill and around a corner.

“Idiot,” she grumbled. She paused, remembering the warning. “But there was a firebird on it.”

Claudia pulled out her phone again and re-read the second message. Consumed with curiosity, she decided to cross the street, placing her opposite of the bus stop, and waited.

She scrolled through her Instagram feed, catching up with news from her favorite local businesses and friends. There weren’t any major or terrible events she saw that would’ve warranted the trolley’s lack of people. I guess I didn’t miss out on anything, she thought. While scrolling, she kept an eye out for the bus after every few posts. The sun was almost gone, and the night was starting to take over.

She wasn’t sure what she would do if the message was true. She figured if she followed the woman, the man wouldn’t make a move on her with someone else present.

Safety in numbers, she remembered her parents drilling in her head.

As Claudia read a post about the Museum of Ice Cream, the bus approached the stop. She kept her phone out, pretending to be a typical millennial glued to the phone as the bus let out passengers. The leaving bus revealed an Asian woman in a black dress with a pink scarf. She held a black briefcase as she walked up a flight of steps with a Caucasian man in a brown suit and briefcase following her.

Claudia’s jaw dropped. “Well, fuck.”

Claudia looked both ways before jogging across the street, following the two up the stairs. The unassuming and easily missed concrete staircase provided a passage to the Ashbury Heights neighborhood and scenic city views. The woman continued up the street, walking along the sidewalk with the man not too far behind and Claudia not far behind him either. She caught strong gusts of the man’s tobacco and oak scented cologne that almost made her gag. She thought for a moment that her reaction would’ve drawn too much attention, but both strangers marched forward like they were eager to get home after a long day.

They walked past a dozen houses to a turn in the road, revealing the tiny thousand square-foot park, Mount Olympus. Claudia remembered one of her friends telling her this place was once considered the city’s geographical center. With a name like Mount Olympus, her first and only visit shattered Claudia’s grandiose expectations with disappointment. There was just an empty pedestal for a lost statue, and any views of the city were obstructed by trees and condominiums. Nothing had changed since her last visit, with the expectation that there were even fewer viewing spots of the city.

Claudia kept back as the woman walked up the stairs to the top by the pedestal and waited. The man joined her.

“Cats are dangerous creatures,” the woman said to the man.

“Not as dangerous as birds,” the man replied.

“You have the item?” the woman asked.

The man tapped on his briefcase. “I thought it would only be fitting to sell The Ring of Olympus here.”

The two exchanged briefcases. While the woman looked inside the briefcase given to her, the man reached inside the side of his jacket.

Thinking she saw a holster for a gun, she shouted, “He has a gun!”

The woman looked up at the man and immediately swung the briefcase at his face, knocking him out. As he hit the ground, a gun slid across the concrete. The woman walked over and kicked the weapon even more out of reach.

The woman looked down at Claudia. “Thanks for the warning. Are you okay?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” Claudia replied as she revealed herself.

The woman laughed as she walked down the stairs. “It’s my job to protect people.”

The woman extended her hand out. Claudia studied the friendly gesture for a moment before shaking her hand. The woman’s silver bracelet flashed a calm, blue light, rendering Claudia unconscious. The woman grabbed and gently laid Claudia down. She seized Claudia’s phone and tapped the screen with her bracelet, unlocking the device. She went straight to the messages, finding the prophecies.

The woman held two fingers on her bracelet and spoke into it, “Hey, I got a situation of another naive human getting one of those ‘prophecies’ to our operations. We really need to figure out who is sending these messages to people. We can’t risk getting exposed.”

From the balcony of a condominium across from the park, the blue-haired woman on the trolly with Claudia earlier spun and danced with a gigantic grin plastered across her face. She paused, leaning on the steel balcony rail as she watched backup arrive for the agent. Her grin grew even wider.

“Looks like you hit a nerve, Veritas,” she praised herself as she spun around to her freestanding door. “I’ll soon expose your villainous fraction to your organization.”

Next to Veritas was a freestanding rustic wooden door with blue glass panels and leafy, brown swirls. She opened the door, traveling back in time to watch the aftermath of the first prophecy text message she sent to a person in Hoquiam, Washington. She closed and opened the door, rewatching the scene of her prophecy text in Augusta, Maine. She closed and opened her door several times, rewatching the endings of all of her escapades. She took a long look at the one in Atlanta, Georgia. When she closed the door, her smile snapped straight.

Veritas pulled out a tablet from the air. “I think it’s time to conclude this quest and force them to reveal their truth, and who better than a journalist to do the job.”

For this short story, I wanted to expand on the mystery of, “You have 1 unread prophecy.” No prompt inspiration this time. I chose to write about San Francisco because I was thinking about Oklahoma City’s streetcars and then thought about the trolly system there. I looked around Google maps, learning about Mount Olympus, and thought that would be an interesting focal point.

For this story, I wanted to show the same thing happening to another person, but when I finished the first draft, I felt like the story was basically an alternative version with nothing new. I thought the plot over and decided to use this story to reveal the person behind the prophecy message: the end-timer, Veritas. As I shared in the story, Veritas is obsessed with the truth. She never tells a lie and believes the universe’s lies and secrets brought its downfall.

As hinted in the story’s ending, I’ve released a third story to conclude this saga. “You Have 3 Unread Prophecies” follows a morning news show host who receives three tips on his phone about the future as he spends time with his sister.

Thank you to Janine De Guzman for the fantastic scene artwork!