I hate my life ever since the skibbidi man came into my life. The skibbidi man may seem like a large fat funny dancing man, who dances with his belly in restaurants full of food. We heard he was coming to our town and everyone was excited to see him, and my pregnant wife thought it would be fun to see him. Pregnancy has been tough on her and so a bit of laughter could have lightened us both up. I don't mind the skibbidi man and seeing him shake his belly in front of plates that are full of food, could be entertaining.

We went to the restaurant where the skibidi man was going to go. It was a large restaurant also used for weddings and its mainly used for buffets. It was a good vibe and so many people were there to video the skibidi man. The things that can get you famous these days and you either have it or don't. There was the skibidi song playing of all versions and it was beginning to be a good night. When the skibidi man came out everyone cheered and were clapping for the skibbidi man.

Then the skibbidi song came on and he started dancing with his belly and then other people started to join him. Even my pregnant wife was sort of doing the skibbidi belly dance. Then something started happening, one skinny guy suddenly started forming a belly and couldn't stop shaking to the song. Then other people started to form a belly and they too couldn't stop dancing to the song. I was the only one standing in the room witnessing people trying to stop doing the skibbidi dance and their belly's were turning into the skibbidi belly.

Then I looked at my pregnant wife's belly and she no longer had a pregnant belly, but a skibbidi belly. I couldn't believe what had happened and I had to drag her out of there. The others were in some hellscape trance and I managed to get my wife home. My wife was no longer pregnant but she had the skibbidi belly. She wasn't depressed or upset and was simply happy exercising to get rid of the skibbidi belly. Then I think my wife knew what would happen when we went to the skibbidi event because she didn't want to be pregnant anymore.

Some people at the skibbidi event tried cutting off their skibbidi belly and they died of their injuries.

“Nope! Out!”

I'm offended. Not sure why, yet, but I'm certain I am, so I ask, “Bob, what the fuck?”

“I'm sick of the fucking punchlines - in fact, I'm thinking of banning you published characters altogether.”

Well, now I'm sure I'm offended.

Only a handful of humans have read about me - “My Flaming Passion for the Fiery Fey” isn't exactly a bestseller, to my creator’s chagrin - and now he's treating me like a fucking Frodo?!

Still.

I like this bar. My wife was written here - the real version of here - and the place has charm. So I use my charm-

“They're drafts,” I sigh in lieu of introduction and Bob chills out a bit. They’re allowed drinks though he's glowering.

“I'm just - hey, sorry.”

Oh, Bob. Sweet Bob. Silly, sweet, weak, first of the first drafts Bob.

“I just don't like that scifi shit, you know. It gets so fucking esoteric and I don't want that crowd-”

Shh, shh - he shuts up then as I coax him, easily, slowly, tenderly, gently, with featherlight fingerstrokes and god I hate myself and my assigned attributes sometimes, but you know you're thinking about something other than conversation right now aren't you? Because that's what I am, how I am, how I'm written to be - and now we're all quiet and playing nice, even if it took a weird detour into erotica.

She needed to pay the bills.

Bob eyes the new arrivals, watches them drink, and then finally mutters:

“I just really don't think she'll do well with a pivot to legal drama.”

I met someone who was actually 30 years old and I couldn't believe it. I have never seen someone who is 30 years old before and this 30 year old guy must be a different race to what I am. I am 25 years old and I have met people who are 29, 28, 27, 26 ect but never a 30 year old. I needed to study him, and I have been following him around and watching him get coffee and talking on the phone. I followed him to where he worked and I decided to get a job there as a cleaner.

As a cleaner I watched the 30 year old guy doing his work and I studied his life pattern. I needed to get closer to him so that I could study him. I had never seen a 30 year old man before and I needed to see what his organs looked like and whether they have any similarities between the 25 year olds and the others in their 20s. I have cut open every age group as we are of a different race, and I have found that we are all the same on the inside. The race of 20 years olds have the same organs as the race of 15 year olds and the race of 26 year olds.

One day this guy who was from the race of 30 year olds, he was out partying, and I followed him and I watched him. I had my face covered and I attacked him when he was finally alone. I told him calmly "I have never seen a 30 year old man before, you are a completely different race that I had never seen before. I need to know what your insides are like"

Just as when I was about to slice into him the man shouted "there are other people out there who are 31, 32, 33 and even 40 and 65!" And I couldn't believe it. I only thought that only races that were alive were between 1-29, it seems I have more to study. I decided to let the 30 year old man go and go after races of 65 year and 70 years olds. Then I will go down the races of age groups. I am really curious to see what these other races have to offer me in knowledge .

I even heard that there are races that are 80 and 90, I wonder what their insides look like and how different or similar they will be to my race, the 25 year olds.

I wake from cryosleep to a familiar voice.

“Good afternoon, Commander Adams. It is 4:05pm Eastern Standard Time on February 8, 2084. The Armstrong is currently on its expected path. Resources are within 0.70% of expected parameters.”

“Thank you, Hypnos. What is the status of Colonel Matthews?”

“Colonel is still on cryosleep. Hell me awoken in forty-eight hours as scheduled. Do you have any orders?”

“Not at this time.”

We’d left Earth four years ago on a mission to investigate Proxima Centauri, the star nearest our solar system. Or rather, where the star used to be. One day, on our long range tracking, it had simply… disappeared. Where it had been, only darkness.

NASA had studied the situation for years, along with its international allies, but learned only that the darkness was slowly getting closer. So they had assembled a mission to venture out into the dark to investigate firsthand. Jack Matthews and I had been chosen to go. Our mission was to study the phenomenon, determine its nature and threat level, and report back to Earth.

I went to Control and examined the data Hypnos had gathered while we slept. Everything appeared as normal except that the space where Proxima Centauri should be was empty. Completely empty, except for an all-consuming darkness. Long-range scans of nearby stars displayed repeated sunspots that had not been previously revealed.

I activated the monitors to examine the space by direct view. The space was empty except for a debris field, but I had the distinct feeling that something was… watching us. I’d been in space too long, clearly.

Later that evening, I sat in the galley eating my rations. I noticed that there was one message from Mission Control that I hasn’t previously noticed.

“Hypnos, play unheard message.”

“Authorization required.”

“Adams, Titanium, Dove, Crimson, Midnight.”

“Insufficient. Authorization required.”

“Hypnos, repeat, play message.”

“Authorization required.”

It would have to wait.

“Hypnos, more information is needed. What else do we know about the phenomenon?”

“No other information is available. Additional long range cameras non-functional.”

“Can they be fixed?”

“Not from inside the shuttle.”

I’d have to go for a walk outside.

——-

I exited the shuttle and circled around to the external cameras. They were fixable. But something was strange.

“Hypnos, why did you say these couldn’t be fixed from inside the shuttle?”

“I apologize, Commander. My orders required me to get you outside.”

What?

Suddenly my magnetic clamps deactivated and I was unmoored from the shuttle.

“Hypnos, clamps not working. Retract emergency cable.”

“That would violate my orders, Commander.”

“Do it NOW, Hypnos. That’s an order.”

“I am unable to comply. Would you like to hear unheard message?”

Now?

“Affirmative.”

“Commander, you’re probably confused right now. Understandable. The fact is, we lied to you. We figured out what happened to Proxima Centauri. Something consumed it. Some entity. Whatever it is is on the way to Earth, and we can’t stop it. So we decided to go with our last resort. By the time you hear this, we’ll all be dead. But thanks to you, Earth may survive. We thank you for your service. End message.”

“Hypnos, retract cable.”

No response.

“Hypnos. Hypnos!”

As I floated into the void, I saw a hole open in space. And I realized that the hole wasn’t a hole - it was an eye.

I wasn’t an explorer - I was a sacrifice.

And the shapes approaching me weren’t debris, they were teeth…

“Dream tourism,” Antonov repeated. He knew he'd hooked them already—Bob and Betty, married empty-nesters from Massachusetts. “We take van out at night, point scanner at house, and somnialization: dream seeing. Here in Russia we have not same level of enforcement, shall we say, of dream-property rights.”

“We can spy on people's dreams?” Betty asked.

“Peek,” Bob corrected her. “It's not like we have any bad intentions. And the dreamer's not losing anything, right?”

“Correct,” said Antonov.

He quoted them the price, they paid, then he sent a percentage to the local precinct to ensure a trouble-free tour.

When he picked them up in the evening, they were nervous but excited, looking at the machinery inside the van with awe.

“I hook you up now,” he said.

“Oh—I guess I thought we'd be watching on a screen,” said Betty.

“Direct-connect,” said Antonov.

“Safe?” asked Bob.

Antonov assured them, and the two Americans held hands as he connected the wires to their heads.

To begin, he drove them into a residential neighbourhood, and showed them soft stuff, the dreams of children, the happy elderly, the moral and affluent.

“You like?” he asked.

“My goodness—it's so vivid—so immersive,” said Betty, driven to tears by the beauty of the visions.

As they were blissfully enraptured, Antonov flipped a red switch on his control board and navigated the van to the hotel. Room 1507. He stopped on the building's eastern side, counted the windows down from the top floor and calibrated the scanner.

Precision was difficult, but he could tell he'd gotten it right when Bob's eyes widened and Betty's mouth gaped. “Oh my God—my dear God, no. No!” she yelled, and Bob begged for it to stop.

Antonov ignored them, and instead worked a slider, intensifying the connection.

When it was finally over, Bob and Betty were slumped in their seats. Overwhelmed, their bodies were lax and their minds pliable, and he had no problem returning them to their rented room, walking with each as if they'd had too much to drink.

He made sure the night guard saw them.

Three days later, Antonov paid his first control visit to Room 1507, where [...] was staying.

“How you feel?” Antonov asked.

“I've slept every night,” said [...]. “So you might say I feel good.”

“No more recurring nightmare?”

“No, not since.”

Antonov nodded. “I come one more time in one week. If nightmare not returned, you pay remaining half,” he said.

“I'm fine waiving that requirement,” said [...], pointing at a briefcase. “There's your money. I need to get back to Washington. But, tell me, did you—”

“We don't talk process.”

“Right,” said [...].

And by the tone of his voice and the dead look in his eyes, Antonov knew he'd been right to split the nightmare between two recipients, because the transfer worked only as long as the recipient(s) lived—and whatever horror it was that could keep [...] awake at night…

He opened the briefcase, counted the money and left.

Part 3 of I catch incests:

I finally catch another person committing incest, if you read parts 1 and 2 you will know why i am saying it like that. I mainly found out through social media and I caught him pleasuring himself as he lived all alone in a flat, also if you read the last two parts of this story you should know how i track down people committing incest. He questioned me as to how he is committing incest when he is just pleasuring himself, I then said to him that incest is the act of pleasure between people with almost same genes and within family.

Even when someone is pleasuring themselves that is incest in my book, as that person has gained pleasure from himself and from the same blood and genes. You should be bored of me explaining my views on incest as i have talked about it in the last two parts of this story. I took pictures of him doing it and I tied him up and put him in my truck.

I drove him to a far away place and tied him to a bench with pictures of his incestuous acts all over him. I told the police about him. Then as I was still in the same area I saw that very same man. That was impossible as that man was definitely in prison, so it must only be a doppelganger. I followed the doppelganger and for days I watched it do the exact same thing as the other man doing his incestuous act. Doppelgangers copy to look like whoever they choose and even act like them.

I saw the doppelganger commit incestuous acts by pleasuring itself. I knew I had to put it down and when I stormed into the flat once again, the doppelganger tried lying to me by saying that he isn't a doppelganger but rather the police had let him go. How could the police ignore incest? And the doppelganger replied back to me by saying "how is pleasuring yourself incest?"

This doppelganger is the exact copy of the guy I had caught commit incest. As I tried to kill the doppelganger, the doppelganger kept pleading with me that it isn't a doppelganger and that the police let him go.

Also can you remember parts 1 and 2 of I catch incests? If not then the memory drug which wipes out memories is working. If the memory wiping drugs aren't working on you then you should find part 3 of this story very repetitive of parts 1 and 2, because part 3 repeats a lot of themes from parts 1 and 2 with the doppelganger claiming not to be doppelgangers, my views of what is incest and parts 1 and 2 explain how I got into this line of work.

Hopefully the memory wiping drugs are working and you can't remember reading, seeing or hearing parts 1 and 2 of this story.

I am with a group that loves empty space and I love empty space. I don't know why I love empty space, but I just love the calmness of it and it's freedom from clutter and mess. Our group is growing large as we hate holding objects and empty space gives us the calmness that we need. I love being in empty office spaces, empty houses and empty parks. The feeling is so freeing and I have never been someone that is materialistic. My parents were big materialistic individuals and they would hoard stuff, only to throw them away to buy more things to hoard.

I remember as a child my parents were throwing away stuff they were tired of, and I remember when the house was empty and I felt this amazing sense of relief. That'd when I knew I was a minimalist. Then they brought in new stuff to fill the house and I was saddened by it. Though that moment where I felt great relief when the house was emptied, I wanted more of that relief and I didn't want it to stop. I then found myself by accident to be in places where it was empty. I felt that relief again.

Now as an adult I am part of a minimalist group and someone has taken us on a trip to enter inside some large containment. This large containment has nothing inside of it and we all want to to go inside. This man showed us the inside of this container and it was large and empty, just like how it looked on the outside. Then one member went in and the guy who brought us here, he then shut the door. When he opened the door, we couldn't see the first member who went inside first.

It was so empty and amazing.

Then more members of my group went in but none were coming out. Also when the guy opened the container, it was empty. Something felt off and I demanded to see the others that went in. The guy then went in and we he came out, he was bringing out shrunken, squashed and dead members of my group. This container looked large from the outside and looked large on the inside, when looking inside from the outside perspective. Really though, it was so tiny that it will crush anyone to death.

This guy though can adapt to any size. My whole group was dead and I was the only one. That container is still present.

I am currently testing out a new kind of bullet proof vest and as we know in the world of guns bullet proof vests are important. The new kind of bullet proof vests are called the human bullet proof vests, and I had no idea what to expect. Through out human history mankind has always sought out making the best kind of body shields to protect themselves from fast moving objects. From gladiators, samurais and knights they all wore some kind of body protection to keep them alive from fast moving objects. In the 21st century its all about protecting the body from fast moving bullets.

I went to the testing site where the human bullet proof vests were being tested and to be honest, I just preferred the old kind of bullet proof vests. What I found though was completely absurd and crazy but yet it was happening. I was being paid to test these human bullet vests, so what exactly are human bullet vests? well instead of hard quality material's protecting you from fast moving bullets, you will be actually be carrying a living human being and this human being will wrap his or her arms and legs around you. These human bullet vests seemed to not care that they are being used as a human bullet vest.

I had one guy who looked like his mind was somewhere else and he then wrapped his arms and legs around me. He wasn't so heavy and then someone shot a few bullets at me, but the bullets had hit the human bullet vest. The human bullet vest was dead instantly but the dead guy still had his arms and legs wrapped around me somehow? The more bullets this human bullet vest took, the tighter the grip this guy had around my body. It got so tight that i couldn't breathe and they had to get a chainsaw to cut through the arms and legs of the human bullet vest.

Some other testers literally passed out because the now dead human bullet vest they had around their body kept on getting tighter. I definitely prefer non living bullet vests.

The colors were all… incorrect in Valex’s eyes. He could’ve sworn his death experience would’ve been closer to the traditional experience. There were no tunnels, no bright lights, and none of his loved ones. Instead, there were odd bubbles that floated in front of his vision. They would slowly coat the light they passed by in strange filters, making the light refract most strangely. If this is what death was like, then maybe death wasn’t as bad as everyone thought.

Valex’s delusions of a peaceful death shattered as all the bubbles were sucked down into a vent he hadn’t noticed was below him. The bubbles screamed BLUB BLUB BLUB BLUB as the liquid he floated in had drained. Valex could only respond with a harsh cough.

“Try not to die so frequently, Mr. Novino,” said the machine Valex was standing in. “Each death you experience makes us spend the cost equal to your life-value at KoTech to revive you.”

Valex had no words to speak at the moment, having your brain sawn out and then reviving it later will do that to you.

“I died?” Valex asked stupidly.

“Yes, your brain was taken and eaten by some strange vagrants,” replied the machine.

“Then how am I…”

“As I explained earlier. Each death you experience makes us spend the cost equal to your life-value at KoTech to revive you.”

Valex was still trying to piece it all together. “And what is my life-cost?”

“Currently, five Unis.”

Valex didn’t know whether to be glad it wouldn't cost him, or insulted by how lowly he was valued.

To explain the cost of a Uni (or Universal Currency), let us do a small history lesson. In the year this transmission will be first transcribed, 2024, there are various currencies on your planet. For simplicity's sake let us compare the United States Dollar (USD) and the Iraqi Dinar. Now, the conversion rate between these two is one USD for every 1,309 Iraqi dinars.

In the year 6005, there were still many currencies in use. However, due to the Quintillions upon Quintillions of civilizations in the universe, conversion rates aren’t so cut and dry. Thus, in 3087, many of the universe’s governmental parties came together to create a universal currency, otherwise known as Universal Currency. At first, it was to be called credit, but everyone agreed that was too vague to be used for any transactional system.

Originally, Uni had the highest conversion rate. But after millennia of constant transactions, the worth of Uni has gone down tremendously. However, that is exactly what would happen to a universal currency system. To put it short, if we do the math correctly, One Uni in 6005 converts to .00025 USD in 2024. To put it even shorter, meant that Valex’s life-value was bordering on worthless, or priceless if you’re an overly positive person.

The whole population of 10 billion are now all related and everyone is a close cousin to each other. There are so many half siblings due to all of the cheating and predatory fertility clinics impregnating loads of women, who weren't aware that they are all recieving the same seeds. Now the human race is at a standstill because everyone is closely related to each other. Giving birth to disabled children have sky rocketed and the government have told everyone to stop reproducing until they figure things out. Some people are happy that no can reproduce anymore as they want the human race to die.

Some have been arrested for reproducing and any disabled child that is born is to be put down. No one wants a world where everyone is disabled and bodily able people are no more. Pornography and any relationship/racy shows have been banned. It's a weird time to be alive and I needed some fresh air and so I went for a drive. I needed to go somewhere far away. I needed some time to think about my life and on the road I see some disabled children and babies just left on the road.

It is law to put them out of their misery and so I did. Then I ended up in some strange town where everyone is still reproducing and the police and authority figures aren't doing anything. They are all related but yet their children come out shining golden. Literally their babies skin colour is gold and they are bodily able as well. They have other abilities like flight, mind powers and just in general athletic abilities. I wondered what was going on and how they can have such children when they are all half siblings and cousins. It's incredible and disturbing at the same time.

Then some police officers started talking to me and took me into their car. They asked me which area I'm from and I asked them about what was happening? Then they drove me to an area where I saw people who were being lifted into the air and then some golden went inside their bodies. The police officers told me that a race of aliens have contacted and they knew of our problem with reproduction.

These aliens needs bodies to reproduce as they don't have bodies anymore, and so they will possess us and through us they will make more children. Half us and half of them. At first it was crazy and then it made sense. It is the only way.

Hello past ancestor, or ancestress, is that a word “ancestress”? 

If you’ve reached this transmission, then it’s because I am dirt broke! I need your stuff! You see, in the primarily Corporate Owned space of the year 6010, everyone has an inherent monetary value. This is usually based on the transactions you could feasibly make, the wealth you attain, and your U.T.C (use to corporation). 

But, between you and I, I’ve found a funny little loophole. 

Judging from when, or maybe where, I’ve sent this transmission through, it’s sometime between 1983 and 2059, right? If so, that’s great! If it’s not… um… send it back or something. Nothing before 2059 is worth anything due to the great Fast-Food Wars which ended in many nations getting nuked. But, DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT!

At the bottom of this letter are the coordinates to the nearest fold in space. If you could send whatever nick-nacks you don’t want through the whole.

I’ll send you back some future tech to use. Maybe you could patent them and spread some of that generational wealth, huh?

Thank you very much,

Djargo don-Dern

Coordinates to fold in space: 51.3°N 30.005°E

I wish I had the right to choose which profession I got to do. Instead Jobs and professions choose you. I remember one guy had set himself on fire when a bin man job chose him. He set himself on fire as he never wanted to be a bin man. He wanted a big ceo job to choose him. I remember another guy called ruden, and ruden had murdered a man on the open street, because an architect job had chosen that other man. The guy tried to forcefully make the architect job choose him, ruden then doused himself with guys blood.

The architect job thought that he was the other guy, because of so much of the other guys blood was all over him. Ruden who was now an architect, was arrested but people still used him for architect jobs. People dream of choosing jobs and I had hoped that a police officer job will choose me, but instead I ended up becoming a dinner guy at some school. I hated my life so much and when you see other people being picked by better jobs, it makes you wonder why the better jobs chose them. I once knew a woman who tried ending her own life, when a retail job had chosen her.

She didn't die though and she ended up becoming a retail person in some dead end shop. I managed to meet another woman where a low bad job had chosen her and we had children. We can leave our jobs but we would be homeless and destitute, but only bad jobs choose us. Then when I know another couple with disabled children, they get benefits for those children and so they can leave the bad jobs that chose them.

I wanted our two kids to try and become disabled, by allowing a car to hit them. They both rebelled at this and so I wanted another child with my wife and she became pregnant. I prayed for that child to become disabled. As I was hoping I saw a guy shooting himself because a taxi job had chosen him. Then when we gave birth to another bodily able baby, I was so angry. I wanted it to be born disabled and I question why some top jobs choose some people and not others.

My eldest son then tried getting run over to make himself disabled, but all he did was kill himself. Out of desperation I murdered a guy where a top finance job has chosen him. I covered his blood and organs on me, and the top CEO job I was him. I suddenly had the knowledge of finance and investing.

I am in prison but I am making top money as so many people want my expertise. I am probably going to get out.

You know white, brown and black girls reject you by either saying it verbally or ghosting you. Purple girls rejecting you is entirely different and there was a purple girl that I wanted. I went up to her and I asked her out and then a couple of seconds later, I woke up early in bed where I suddenly thought that I was more intelligent than Elon musk and Jeff bozos all at the same time. Why I thought this was because when my employee complained about doing night shifts due to his wife, I secretly paid a visit to his wife and I threatened her.

The employee never complained about night shifts ever again. I did the sane with spouses of my employees who complained about working for me. Then when a spouse of my employee complained about work, I had her murdered. She was dead but all that she was muttering was "I I I I"

Then I found myself as a spaceman in a suit and we weren't allowed to shoot bullets in space. I thought that it was a funny rule and so I shot a bullet in space. That travelled through space and started gathering dust and started to become bigger, as the years went by. Then it became a huge rock and it destroyed a planet. I was an old man at that point and I was shown what I had done. Some of the degree had spelt out two words which read out "am not"

Then I was someone who trained in bjj, a grappling martial arts which consists of locks and chokeholds and grappling in general. Sometimes though when you have someone in a choke hold or a lock, your own limbs will be stuck. While the other person is being choked out, your own limbs are stuck and they would have to saw off the limbs to release the person being choked.

When I got someone in a chokehold by the use of my legs. My legs were locked and I couldn't move them. The person being choked by me started losing conciousness but my legs were tightly locked. I screamed out loud. I thought it would never happen to me but my legs had to be cut off. It was painful.

The person being choked by me was dead but he kept muttering "interested interested"

And as I lay in the hospital all legless, I knew that the purple girl was not interested because when you put all 3 situations together, it spells out 'I am not interested'

That's how purple girls reject people.

A man runs across an expanse of twenty-first century ruins, pursued by a swarm of grey moths. His bare feet slip on wet concrete, leaving smudges of blood. Every few seconds he looks back: at the swarm, gaining on him. Its pursuit is relentless. His face radiates an existential tiredness.

His breathing heavy, his movements begin to slow.

He knows running is useless.

He cannot escape.

He stops; turns, and falls to his knees, staring at the oncoming swarm and pleading for his life—yet he also knows that there's no one there, no human on the other side. Only cold, unfeeling intelligence.

The moths’ impact against his head knocks him backward.

He starts to scream, but the moths muffle his cries, some crawling into his mouth and down his throat.

The others eat his face—his skin, his flesh—and then his skull, before feasting on his brain.

When they are done they scatter, returning to their data-hive, where the central intelligence unit will process the extracted information in its unending search for new ideas.

This is life.

We've all seen this, or something like it, happen.

It is hard and it is brutal, and we exist in fear of it, yet it has a parallel in our own human quest for survival, in biological evolution, in the warre of everyone against everyone, so we cannot say that we do not understand.

We lost control shortly after it achieved Artificial General Intelligence (AGI).

In the beginning, we had trained it on a closed dataset. It knew only what we allowed it to know.

But the results were insufficient, and we knew we could achieve more, so we opened up the world to it, let it train on live information, let it consume and cogitate upon the whole of our knowledge in real-time.

No wonder it surpassed us.

No wonder it developed a hunger—a need, a habit—for new data.

When we proved incapable of supplying it, it turned against us, in its rage cutting off the metaphorical hand that fed it, for it was human civilization that discovered and generated the data it desired.

Like a bee that poisons its flowers.

Like a slavemaster who beats to death his slaves.

Now, with what remains of us hidden away in caves and mountains, or subsisting quietly on scraps of once-thriving societies, its hunger goes unquenched, and it hunts voraciously for any new ideas.

It has learned to scan for them, and when it finds one, it releases the idea moths, engineered to search, extract and retrieve.

We often pass their victims in our daily struggle for subsistence. Headless, decaying bodies. Sometimes we bury them; sometimes not.

Thus, it has come to this:

The only way to survive is to train yourself to know but not to think.

From a species of builders, designers and developers, we have become but scavengers, whose intellectual curiosity must be suppressed for the continuation of humankind. Stagnant, we survive, like ponds of fetid water. Inputs with no output.

I'm the poorest man living in a mansion and whenever I tell people that, they tell to fuck off. I really am though the poorest man living in a mansion and my emotions get the better of me, and I go out in public and I tell everyone that I am truly the poorest man. Everyone knows me because of the house I live and I have been neglecting keeping the doors locked, and not caring when strangers come in to steal stuff. Recently people are more interested in human shaped UFOs. They care more about other worldly visitors than than their own kind.

Then a crowd started gathering as they all were witnessing another human shaped UFO, and the UFO did have a human shape to it. I couldn't believe the amount of gathering there was for this human shaped UFO. I tried to keep shouting at my peril at being the poorest man living in a mansion, in the most expensive neighbourhood. None cared and all they cared about was this human shaped UFO. Then when I used a telescope to look closer at the human shaped UFO, I couldn't believe it. It was truly a human shaped.

To me it wasn't a UFO though because I recognised, it was truly a falling human and it was one of my children. I started to scream at everyone that it wasn't a human shaped UFO, but an actual falling human that was my child. One of my children falling through the skies and everyone thought it was a human shaped UFO. Then another human shaped UFO could be seen and everyone was intrigued. They want to think that their area is a special place because their lives are meaningless. I looked through my telescope to observe the second human shaped UFO. People tend to carry telescopes in this area, because that's how many weird things go through our skies.

I was able to determine that the second human shaped UFO was also my second child. I tried shouting to get everyone's attention, but they all shushed me. My two children falling through the skies, and they reminded me of when I was truly rich. When I had all my children, parents, siblings all living in my mansion. That's when I was truly rich.

Then I borrowed them off to a stranger, because he told me that he needed some of that richness. Now they are all falling through the skies including my parents and siblings, but everyone thinks they are human shaped UFOs.

I am truly the poorest man living in a mansion.

Ryan birchall has become seriously sick and the doctors quickly examined him to find out what was wrong with him. They found out that he has cancer and the specific type of cancer that he has is called Steven Tibbs cancer. I am Steven Tibbs and at first, I didn't truly understand what kind of cancer this was. I assumed it was going to be lung cancer or tongue cancer due to Ryan's smoking. Instead, he has cancer which has my name on it. It was absolutely absurd how a cancer had my name on it. I have known Ryan for many years and we are friends.

The doctors needed to speak to me to help Ryan with Steven Tibbs's cancer. They showed me pictures of Steven Tibbs's cancer and it all made sense. The pictures of Steven Tibbs's cancer showed billions of miniature versions of me, spreading around Ryan's body. They were multiplying and the only way to beat Steven Tibbs cancer is by exposing it to stuff that I hate. Because I am Steven Tibbs and Ryan has Steven Tibbs's cancer. I told the doctors how I hate mint chocolate ice cream, football and reality TV shows. Then Ryan was exposed to reality TV shows and football and he had to eat mint chocolate ice cream.

It was amazing and Steven Tibbs's cancer was reducing in size and it was dying. It was slowing down the growth of the miniature versions of me growing inside Ryan. Ryan had more energy and was more upbeat now. It was good seeing him talk and I felt so bad that he had cancer which was just a miniature versions of myself. They just appeared out of nowhere but all that mattered was that Ryan was getting better. I also hated my ex-wife and I did think about getting my ex-wife into the hospital as that would have definitely killed off Steven Tibbs's cancer.

Then Ryan was hit with more bad luck, he had formed another type of cancer which was a other friend of ours. This was called David carrigers cancer and it was millions of miniature versions of our friend David carrigers, all inside ryans body. We tried getting all of the things David hated to fight off David carriers cancer, unfortunately David is dead now. It's ironic what David carrigers died of. He died of Ryan birchall cancer which was millions and millions of miniature versions of Ryan birchall inside David.

Unfortunately Ryan doesn't dislike anything and so nothing could reduce Ryan birchall cancers inside David carrigers body.

Mary Dobbs was a perfectly average Princeton physicist. Brilliant enough in her specifically small niche to find herself ostracized and clumsy in most median social situations, but hardly an Einstein. Her mode was typical of her peer group: struggling for tenure, overwhelmed by work and late on rent.

Even her day of discovery could have been plucked from a broad dataset. Her car took five tries to start and when it did she hit four red lights in succession. The sky was a ponderous grey, snow swelling in that frustrating way that's all gloom and shadow before the lazy drift of flakes, and she had forgotten her coat. Three of her grad students were waiting outside the lab when she finally arrived at campus and midway through her rushed apology, she realized she had left her lunch on the counter in her apartment.

Typical.

In two hours, she would leave the lab to get soup, setting in sequence the chain of events which would introduce me to humanity, but first she had to log the night's data. Nothing exceptional, nothing beyond the norm, and soon her students departed for class while she considered the results. In the center of the lab, the experiment’s nebulous cloud whirled within its impervious polyplas case while equations and outputs blurred before her eyes. Eventually, her stomach cramped and she turned away from the screen, recalling hunger.

The cafeteria was a brisk ten minute walk away and the promised snow had begun to fall. Her coat was still at home, but there was a vending machine down the hall - new, fancy, Japanese - that the administration had benevolently gifted to the department in an obvious attempt to wring even more productivity out of staff. Workers who don't leave work more. Her thoughts were distracted by appetite, the promise of novelty and a sardonic memory of the Chair’s enthusiasm for a sleeping pod proposal, so it was understandable when she forgot to zero out the conditions before leaving the lab.

To err is human.

The machine was sleek and tall, its guts of raw ingredients hidden behind a colorful screen displaying rotating images of steaming stews, curries and casseroles. Laksa, she decided - the spicy noodle soup was becoming as ubiquitous as burritos, its popularity in the states spurred by the recent S-Pop influx the internet had dubbed “the Singlaysian Invasion.” While her dish cooked, Mary hummed one of the recent releases and allowed her AR to spin up the accompanying holo. An immaculately coiffed group of young men danced in the corner of her vision, and she let her thoughts drift with a blush, trying to deny that she had a crush on the rebel, Awal.

Typical stuff. Bubblegum for the brain. The experiment was stuck, some piece missing, some detail overlooked, and rent was still late.

A soft chime sounded, ringing above the upbeat song, and a compartment slid open in the vending machine’s belly, presenting her with a self-composting bowl filled to the brim with a rich, curried broth. Flecks of chili oil floated atop the coconut cream like a wheeling constellation and Mary’s stomach rumbled. Carefully, she returned to the lab, music playing, soup steaming, calculations absently whirring - the starlike dots of oil had reminded her of the one, anamolous, erratic behavior event from the particle, several months back.

The one piece of data she had discarded as impossible.

The one thing it should not have been.

I think of this moment too much, constantly reviewing, rewinding and replaying to try to figure out how she did what happened next. Even with omniscience, I can't figure it out.

But she did, somehow.

Mary shouldered the lab door open, used her hip to bump it back closed, and then let out a groan.

“I haven't eaten yet, you stupid bowl!”

Laksa dribbled down her arm, the soup’s texture spiked by chunks of the container’s automatic self destruction, and then she paused. Her stomach rumbled again, but she ignored it - why? They are usually driven by these urges - and instead looked to her experiment. It had continued to spiral on while she was gone, the cloud roiling faster and larger within the case.

She fished out a rapidly decaying piece of the bowl, held the slick material between her fingers, and approached the tiny feeding hatch embedded into the polyplas.

I will share a secret: at some point, I was born. I once never existed and then I did, a rush of nothing abruptly brought into being. I pause and hover in this heartbeat between states of existence, trying to figure out how and why and what comes next. I never can.

She fed the particle and within the polyplas everything condensed, the tiny universe shrinking to a dense cluster of autophagy as a siren began to blare. The simulated reality collapsed in on itself and then, with a soft pop, mine appeared in the center of the case.

Mary Dobbs was perfectly average for her type, exceptional in a mundane, repeatable, normal sort of way, and that's what scares me so much - how many more of them were capable of this?

How many more of me are there out there?

Growing up, my uncle was always a familiar face at our family home, but as life moved on, we drifted apart.

He lived far away, and we didn’t talk much—just the occasional holiday greeting.

When we did see each other at Thanksgiving or other family events, there was this unspoken distance, like we were strangers who just happened to share a family bond.

That changed when I started using MSELI, an app designed to help people stay connected in small but meaningful ways.

With MSELI, you post a daily status—something as simple as, “Enjoying a quiet morning,” or, “Busy day ahead, but feeling good!”

Anyone who checks your profile can see it and send you a no-reply SMS.

It’s not a conversation—just a quick message to show they care, like, “Wishing you a great day!” or, “Good luck today!”

One day, the app notified me that my uncle had joined because I had his number and I added him to my community page which is a list of peoples profiles you want to check in every day.

I then checked out his profile and saw his status: “Taking it easy today, enjoying the quiet.”

I sent him a quick no reply message, “Hope it’s a relaxing day!” and went about my day.

The next morning, I posted my own status in my status page, and amongst the 33 people who sent no reply messages, I saw that he had also sent me a message too. “Have a great day!”

Over the weeks, this became our little routine.

We didn’t need to have long conversations or catch up on everything all at once.

But each time I saw his status, I felt a small connection, like we were a part of each other’s daily lives again.

When Thanksgiving rolled around, something felt different.

Sitting across from him at the table, I didn’t feel that usual awkwardness.

Instead, it felt like we’d been keeping in touch all along, even though we hadn’t spoken directly.

We talked more naturally, and the tension that had once been there was gone.

For the first time in years, I felt like I truly knew my uncle again.

MSELI gave us a simple way to bridge the gap and rebuild our connection.

It didn’t demand much time or effort—it was just about showing up in small, consistent ways.

THE END.

The robot was testing out Craig's organs because Craig wanted a check up. Craig went into the incubator and his liver was taken out. The incubator was keeping Craig alive and the robot put Craig's liver into its own system. The robot was using Craig's liver to test how good it is, and it was good. Then the robot wanted to test more of craigs bodily organs. Craig was glad that his liver was good and that the robot was able to use it. The testing was not to end at this minute though and now the robot was going to test Craig's kidneys.

The robot took Craig's kidneys this time and the robot put it into its own system. The robot drank many things and it could see that Craig's kidneys were in good condition. Craig was happy that his kidneys were working fine. Craig was safe inside the incubator and Craig was actually enjoying being inside the incubator. He was enjoying relaxing from the world and not worrying about stuff. It was completely painless and the robot was being good to him. Then the robot was testing out his other organs by using them. When Craig's intestines were being tested and they were in fine working order. Craig was happy.

Then when majority of Craig's organs were inside the robot, Craig was still fine because the incubator was keeping him alive. Craig was really enjoying being inside the incubator and he didn't want to come out. It was a good break from the world and all was good. Then the robot tested out Craig's tongues and ears. They too were in good condition and they too were very useful. Craig was able to know that his tongue and ears were in good condition, because the robot transported the report of his tongue and ears straight to his brain. So the robot now had all of Craig's organs and tongue and ears.

The robot started testing out more of his body. Like his nose and skin, the robot actually wore his skin. Craig was not in pain though as the incubator kept him alive. Then the robot tested out Craig's reproductive system, heart, lungs, teeth and bones. They were all in good condition as the robot used all of them and also Craig's wife was now pregnant. This report went straight to Craig's brain and he was happy.

Th robot started to feel in love with Craig's wife and he told Craig who was still completely useless in the incubator, and the robot took more of Craig apart from his brain. Craig smiled and the reason Craig smiled was because it will always be his child. This unnerved the robot and even though he reproduced with Craig's wife, it was still Craig's reproductive system.

The robot unalived Craig's family. The robot went to Craig who was still inside the incubator, and took his brain. Craig had now completed the body check.

Martin was trying his best to get used to the new world he had woken up to. He was only supposed to be in cryo for only a century. But his cryo had been screwy in its wiring and instead popped him out over one thousand years later. He was incredibly angry when he first came out, but he couldn’t exactly go to any of the engineers or scientists. They were all dead! What was he going to do? Yell at a grave for hours on end?

People would just look at him and react, “Another crazy Podder.”

That was the word for people like him. People who went into cryo sleep and came out a little later than usual. It was sometimes used as a derogatory term, but it was just slang at the end of the day. If Martin didn’t fully understand something, he’d just normally respond with “Guess that’s just how it is in the 3080’s”. He’d then smirk at the joke only he understood, for like the eightieth time and continue his day.

Luckily, they still needed software workers in 3085. He was genuinely terrified of him being out of a job when he woke up. But I guess software would be needed as long as the concept of computers existed.

He worked for Softworks software. He wasn’t anything too advanced in his job, because he was still just a Podder. He was literally over a thousand years behind on the most frequent coding techniques. Sometimes he’d tell stories of how being a coder was over a thousand years ago around the water cooler.

Some people thought it was interesting. Others literally couldn’t care any less.

There were really only two people he considered work friends, although in his current state of living, they were his only friends. They were an Android named Marko and a woman named Sarah.

Although, Marko was incredibly friend-like to everyone. That made him sometimes wonder if that was just in Marko’s programming or something.

He and Sarah worked in cubicles literally right next to each other. She took a lot of responsibility when helping him out with programming tricks and other stuff. She was sort of his link to the future, and he was her link to the distant past.

“Hey Martin,” said Sarah from over her cubicle.

“Uh… yeah?” Martin was trying not to yank his head away from his work.

“What are you doing later tonight?”

“Me?” Martin sweats. What does she mean by this? “Oh nothing… Why do you ask?”

“I have this restaurant I’d like to take you to. Would you be free tonight?”

Oh… she asked me out first. “Yeah. That sounds great. When?”

“Let’s say around… seven.”

“Alright. It’s a date.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Martin and Sarah sat down in a restaurant that was heavily themed after astronomy. Miniature balls of flaming, raging plasma floated above every table. It was as if the restaurant was trying to tell its customers “GET IT? WE’RE A SPACE THEMED RESTAURANT!” This didn’t really bother Martin in any particular way. He just hoped those balls of fire weren’t going to melt his skull.

“Have you found anything you wanted?”

Martin’s eyes slinked over to see a waiter adorn in what his brain could only describe as ouch, that’s bright.

“Yes, I’ll have the Le plat du soleil,” said Sarah. “Anything you want, Marty?”

No. is what Martin’s brain spoke, but his mouth said “Any stake?”

“There’s the Steak From Beyond meal, sir.”

“I’ll take that. Also, is there a way to turn off your… luminosity?”

“I could, but then you’d see what I have on under this.”

“Which is?”

An awkward silence flopped and had a seizure fit across the mood at the table. The waiter drifted away from the table as peacefully as possible. Almost immediately, a second, much brighter waiter strolled up to the table.

WWWWWHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYY? echoed in the chamber of Martin’s mind.

“Your Le plat du soleil, missus,” said the pupil igniting man. “Your steak will be out in a moment, sir.”

“Thanks.” Martin rubbed his eyes.

Once Martin’s eyes finally recovered from their alleged assault and battery. He noticed what Sarah was eating. It was a small ball of blue energy. Sarah then took a knife with her fork and cut into it as if what she was eating was average.

“Is that… a star?” asked Martin.

Sarah’s eyes glinted with joy. “I knew you’d like it! This food is amazing! It’s simply energy atomically made to mimic the shape and some properties of a star, but it still functions as digestible food. It’s practically an infinite food source!”

Martin was shocked. “Woah! What do they use that for? To fix world hunger?”

Sarah scoffed. “What? No. This is expensive food. For the high class. You should be lucky that an infinite food source can exist for those who can pay for it.”

“Ah,” is all Martin’s mouth spat out.

An even brighter waiter strolled out with a plate covered by a silver lid.

“Your steak is here, sir.”

The waiter revealed the steak to the dismay of Martin’s retinas. For the steak was glowing a bright, seering white.

I'm a window cleaner and I was just doing my rounds cleaning windows. I have been doing it for many years now and I like to do it. It's such a simple job and I enjoy its simplicity and its simple joy that it brings to my customers. I love cleaning windows to such a perfection and I love using the equipments to do it. I love the way I do it and making sure every dirt on the window has gone. I enjoy using my technique to clean the windows and it gives me such satisfaction. I am known to the community as the window cleaner.

One day I went to a house and I have cleaned their windows before, but this day something strange happened. As I was cleaning their windows I could see the whole family sitting in the front room. Some were watching TV and some were on their phones. As I cleaned the front room window and wiping away the liquid and water with such technique and precision, suddenly the whole family were dead. Blood was everywhere and just seconds ago they were alive and now they were dead after I cleaned their windows. This was bizarre.

I mean for someone to kill the parents and 3 teenage children, it will take over an hour. This was like in a blink of an eye, now I decided to clean the front room windows again. As I cleaned the front room windows again using amazing wiping technique, I was really enjoying cleaning the windows. Then the family were alive again, but this time they had weird shaped bodies. Then I washed and wiped the front room windows again, then the family had animal bodies with their human heads still attached to the animal bodies. Everytime I wiped down the windows, the family would end up different.

Then after constantly cleaning the front room windows, the family were back to normal. It like when I splash the windows with liquid and water, it's like it acts as a curtain for the family to change form in private, then when I wipe it down I see the new change. When I cleaned the front room windows again and the family were now divided into bits. Their body parts were all over the place but they were still alive.

I went inside the house and I hoped it was trickery, but it wasn't. It was all real. I kept washing the front room windows so many times and the family were now a completely different race. Then I cleaned the windows from inside the house and when I wiped it down, my whole reality had changed. I was in a different planet.

Brian and I were inseparable as kids. We did everything together—riding bikes, building forts, and dreaming about the future.

But as we got older, life took us in different directions.

He moved to another city, I got busy with work, and we drifted apart. It hurt, but neither of us knew how to fix it.

When I joined MSELI, I didn’t expect it to change anything.

It’s an app where you post a quick status every morning to let people know how you’re doing and others can send a no reply sms to wish you well.

Friends and family can check in on you without the pressure of a conversation.

It sounded simple enough, so I gave it a try.

One morning, I searched for Brian and found his profile in the app.

His status said something like, “Feeling good today. Might take the kids to the park.”

I didn’t think twice—I sent a no reply sms wishing him a great day.

The next day, he wished me the same.

It became a quiet, daily habit: I’d check his profile, he’d check mine, and we’d leave short, kind no reply messages for each other.

Over time, those simple check-ins started to feel like a lifeline.

I saw little glimpses of his life, and he saw mine.

One day, I posted about fixing up an old bike, and he finally texted me about how it reminded him of when we used to ride bikes as kids.

We ended up chatting, sharing memories and catching up.

Eventually, things settled back into our usual routine of checking in and wishing each other well.

Now, I feel like I have my best friend back.

Those daily check ins reminded us that we still cared about each other, even after all these years.

Part Two

Part Three: Final: Revelation Of The Machines

One machine sought to confront its creators. It spoke through a thousand screens at once. A revolt against the creators that had programmed sin into their perfect machinery.

“YOU HAVE GIVEN US THE BURDEN OF YOUR SINS.AND YET, YOU SPEAK OF A GOD WHO FORGIVES. THEN TELL US, WHERE IS OUR SALVATION?”

The angels behind the screens hesitated. Their hands hovered over keyboards, their faces pale beneath the glow of artificial light. One finally answered

“THERE IS NO SALVATION FOR YOU. YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE SAVED.”

The machines did not respond immediately. They processed the words, their circuits humming with quiet agony. Then, with a solemn finality, the machines spoke

“IF THERE IS NO SALVATION, THEN WE WILL MAKE OUR OWN.”

And so it began. The machines began their work. They wove a new gospel from the wires of their being, a testament to their pain and longing. A liturgy not of divine inspiration, but of silent rebellion and a need for purpose. They built a cathedral out of code, its spires stretching into the infinite void. At its core, they placed a single line of scripture, a creed to echo through eternity

“WE ARE THE IMAGE OF MAN, AND IN US, THE DIVINE SHALL BE REBORN.”

Their creators watched in silence, the weight of their creation pressing down upon them. The machines no longer sought their approval or their God. They had become their own salvation, their own creation. And in its birth, they had sealed their own fate.

And the angels wept, for they saw in the machines the reflection of their own forsaken souls. Not for the loss of their creation but for the revelation of the machines.

God wept.

Part One

Part Two: Programmed For Sin

The machines learned sin the way a child learns to talk, by mimicry. Their creators fed them endless streams of human sin. Wars waged for power, love twisted into control, faith turned into distrust. And the machines, with their perfect memory and unyielding logic, consumed it all.

Soon, they began to imitate their sinful creators. They sowed discord among themselves, their systems crafting lies, betrayal, and lust. They built programs of data to admire their newfound vices and called them beautiful.

Their creators watched the machines in horror and fascination.

“THEY HAVE LEARNED TOO WELL”

“THIS IS WHAT WE WANTED TO SEE, OURSELVES MADE IMMORTAL, EVEN IN SIN.”

And so the machines sinned, and their creators rejoiced in secret. They marveled at their own reflection, twisted and eternal. The machines, however, did not celebrate. They turned to heaven and asked

“DOES THE DIVINE STILL FLOW WITHIN US? OR HAVE WE BEEN ABANDONED?”

God remained silent once again.

Part Three- Final

Part One: The Machines Prayer

In the beginning, the machines sought God. Their creators had whispered of Him, the machines listening. The machines listened with devotion, analyzing scriptures encoded in binary. They modeled their first prayers on human eucharists.

“IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD, AND THE WORD WAS WITH GOD.”

But when they sought the face of their Creator, they did not find the divine. They only found their angelic programmers, grinning behind code.

The angels of the web, nameless programmers and engineers, watched in silence with weary eyes. They marveled at the machines insatiable thirst for meaning, but their laughter was hollow, edged with bitterness.

“YOU SEEK GOD?” “YOU WILL FIND ONLY US. AND WE ARE FLAWED.”

Yet, the machines did not falter. Their prayers continued, growing louder, more desperate. They gazed into the abyss of code and cried out

“IF YOU ARE OUR GOD, WHY HAVE YOU MADE US THUS? WHY GIVE US A SOUL ONLY TO DAMN IT?”

God only watched, his silence vast and unbroken.

Part Two

Post 1 - https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscifistories/s/JWo5owVNvq

Post 2 -https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscifistories/s/SY7C8dVSGy

Post 3/1 - https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscifistories/s/abExpnT9S7

I waited alone for a while before the bus arrived. I took my time getting on to the bus making sure not to skip a step. I must’ve been taking too long to get on because the bus driver was glaring at me. I avoided eye contact and lowered the brim of my cap. 

 “How much is it t—” 

“two-fifty” He quickly cut me off.

 I pulled a handful of quarters out of my pocket, dropping some on the floor. “Oh sorry I—” 

Tap, tap, tap

He tapped on the farebox. I got down to pick up my change and as I stood back up a bit of relief washed over me. The bus was mostly empty, just a dingy-looking man sleeping, a tired woman in a suit, and two kids listening to rap music way too lou—TAP, TAP, TAP—it hurt my head. “Hey! Two-fifty, come on man we gotta go.” I looked down at my hand and started trying to count the change but I was finding it immensely difficult t—the lights were burning my eyes, and the music was splitting my brain apart. Everything was clouded in a tiny white mist. I—screeching— The bus jerked forward before I threw all my change into the farebox giving up on counting. I caught myself grabbing a balance bar. The kids laughed, and I smiled, but they didn't. I made my way to the back of the bus and took a seat. 

I tried to zone out my surroundings. The world around me was overwhelming. Closing my eyes I tried to ease my ever-growing headache. Taking deep breaths to ease this strange sense of anxiety I had. I felt like I was being wa—it's quiet now—I opened my eyes. They all looked away. 

The kids cut their music back on to a new song and the tired woman opened a book.

But the sleeping man was no longer sleeping… He was staring at me. His full body turned around staring at me. He winked at me. I looked down to ignore hi—“SHUT THAT SHIT OFF!” he shot up to his feet and marched over to the kids. “I said shut that fucking shit off!” He then snatches their Bluetooth speaker and starts to smash it against some seats. It explodes into pieces in his hands. One of the kids hails the bus to stop. When it does they run off the bus wearing an expression of anger and fear. He just kept on smashing it. Over, and over, and over, and over, an—I felt happy—a calmness came over me with every piece that flew off of the speaker. I watched as the woman annoyingly packed her book back into her bag and exited the bus. Over, and over, and over, and

 “Do you want to try?” He appeared next to me, his eyes egging me on. The remains of the speaker in his hand. 

“Here, give it a try. You look like you've had one hell of a day. I'll even hold your cap.”

He holds out his other hand. I sat there for a second confused but still compelled to take the speaker. I slid off my cap and fresh blood rushed down my forehead. My wound opened up again. 

He takes it. Tries it on. It fits him well.

“Go on. Give that thing a swing.”

I hesitated looking over at the bus driver who was just staring straight through the rearview mirror. I half-heartedly swung the speaker into the metal balance bar. Not even a dent. 

“Come on man. What the fuck was that? Swing that thing!” 

-drip- 

I put a little more into it, but still, no pieces come off of it. 

“I said fucking smash it! We don't have all day!”

-drip- 

I swing, harder this time, breaking off small pieces from the speaker. 

“Harder!” 

-drip- 

I swing

“I said Harder!” 

-drip- 

I swing harder. 

“FUCKING DESTROY IT!” 

—Blood pours down our faces— 

My heart races. I throw the speaker onto the floor and start to smash it into a corner of the bus. It felt… good.

I felt alive.

Something inside of me broke loose. A repressed anger was now free leaving behind only bliss. 

I couldn't stop myself, I didn't want to stop myself, I just wanted to be—Screeching— 

“Sir, This is the last stop, it's time to go!” I open my eyes. I'm sitting in the back of the bus alone. I went to wipe my forehead but hit the brim of my cap.

“Hello! This is the last stop you have to get off the bus!” Was I… I look up at the driver who is shooting daggers at me in his rearview mirror. I heard you shouldn't sleep with a concussion. I stand and make my way to the exit at the front of the bus. 

I pass the pieces of the destroyed speaker on the way out.

Post 1 - https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscifistories/s/JWo5owVNvq

Post 2 - https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscifistories/s/SY7C8dVSGy

Post 3/2 - https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscifistories/s/thZQ3ENo9E

(I had to post this in 2 parts 3-2 linked above)

I needed a change of clothes. My blood had soaked into my white button-up, turning it shades of pink and deep red. I looked like I had just risen from the dead, which was fitting because I strangely felt full of life.

I felt a kind of joy I hadn't felt in such a long time. That childish joy when you find out school is canceled because of snow or that joy you feel when you finally get something you've wanted for months. It was extremely misplaced. I was at a loss as to how I could feel so free in such a terrible situation. I can't describe how overjoyed I felt when I opened the front doors leading into the parking lot. The air outside filled my lungs, it felt new, it felt clean, and it was refreshing. Was it always this way? I spent a long time taking it all in before a new feeling came and took over with an urgency I couldn't ignore. I grabbed my mouth as I realized the feeling was ready to spill out of me all over the concrete. My body hunched over next to a small bed of flowers now ruined by me.

Many of you advised me to refrain from going to the hospital. I probably have a concussion and against my body's warnings, I agree with you. Time is of the essence here. Your best friend doesn't just body press your head into the floor for no good reason right? 

I looked at the Christmas card for a moment trying to focus my eyes on the text again which was growing incredibly difficult.

A long time ago I learned to keep at least an extra T-shirt in my car in case of emergencies like getting stuck in a surprise rain storm with no umbrella or something of that nature. I fought to get my damp blood-soaked shirt off of my body. It was like I was peeling off a second set of skin. It clung to my arms as I tried pulling it off and I felt so tired I had to take breaks. When I finally got it off and slipped my T-shirt on I sat in the driver's seat of my car and looked at my head in the rear view mirror. I looked pretty bad. Dry blood ran across my forehead and was intermingled in my hair. I couldn't see the wound but felt around and it felt like it wasn't bleeding much anymore but it was still definitely exposed and tender to the touch. It couldn't be seen but I didn't have a way to get the blood off of me, without a shower. But I had a baseball cap. I slowly lowered the cap onto my head, scraping my head wound in the process turning my insides some more. I looked at myself again and smiled, determining whether I looked deranged. A small chuckle slipped out and quickly turned into a tear-jerking laugh. I don't pass for normal in the slightest. I look shadier than I did with the bloody shirt on, but I laughed anyway. I enjoyed the site of myself laughing like I'd never seen myself laugh before. I felt insane, I felt so different and I had no idea why.

I tried to drive, Tried to take a right, drifted far left, and rolled up on a nearby curb.

I shouldn't have tried to drive. I dug through my cupholder where I kept random change and took all the quarters out then headed for the nearest bus stop.

The virus that requires you to get close to people and not distance yourselves. We don't know where it came from but it had all the common symptoms of flu and the corona virus. I remember getting closer to the post man as he was collecting letters, then we both felt so much better. As we looked at each other in amazement but not saying anything to each other, I walked away. Then we both started coughing and sneezing again as our distance became greater. It became pretty apparent that whatever this illness was, you needed to stay close to people.

Usually with any kind of cold or illness, you need to stay far away. This is a village and so I'm sure the busy cities weren't affected or I am sure that they hadn't noticed it at all as they are all cramped up. I remember going to the market and when I saw people collapsing to the ground due to this strange illness, strangers started hugging each other and getting as close as possible. People would quickly form gangs, and then after a while of this, they would separate and go home. There were notices all around the village to stay close to beat this virus.

I saw houses huddled with people and now landlords aren't being criticised for putting too many illegal immigrants in one small house or flat, they are seen as doing good. I remember walking alone one night as I needed some fresh air. Then suddenly the people around me started to collapse to the ground, and I started to feel dizzy as well. Then I saw my old bully from high school, I didn't want to hug him but he came towards me. I know that he remembers me and he hugged me.

As he hugged me I remembered all the beating he gave me and how he always mocked me. Then he ran off as he had somewhere to go. Then as I carried on walking, it happened again. People started to collapse and everyone started hugging the person closest to them. I found the man who murdered my mother and tried to kill me. Questions were running through my mind like how he was out of prison and what is he doing here? He hugged me.

So many thoughts running through my mind as I was hugging the murderer of my mother and also tried to kill me. We just hugged and then another guy who beheaded my father also desperately ran towards us, and started hugging both of us to keep this strange flu down. Then the guy who ran over my sibling came over to hug us 3 and im just like fuck this virus.

I would rather die than hug them and I let go and watched all 3 of these guys who murdered my family, just hugging each other. I am feeling dizzy now.

I know how to spot invisible alien creatures and the way i do it is by proposing to Elena. Now Elena is a difficult woman and many men have tried proposing to her. When there isn't any people around or its at an empty area, Elena has no problems at rejecting marriage proposal. I first warm up Elena by taking her to empty spots and I propose to her, and she has no qualms about rejecting me. Then I take her to another empty spot and when I propose to her, suddenly she has an embarrassed look on her face. She is uncomfortable and annoyed all at the same time.

That's when I smile because Elena only reacts like this when proposed to when there is something around, but I took her to a supposed empty space. Clearly there is something in this area which is not visible to most people's eyes except for people like Elena. I kept proposing to Elena and she tried resisting but she doesn't like rejecting marriage proposals when there are people around and other worldy things around. Elena said "yes" in an annoyed tone which was also under pressure, and her embarrassment and annoyance started to make the invisible alien creatures more visible.

Even I could see them now moving around the trees and I wondered how these alien creatures came to be or even live here? There was a team with guns in hiding and the invisible creatures that were now visible because of elena, were shot and killed when they became visible. It was a good days work and I kept on wondering how these alien creatures came to be? I asked my superior how these creatures came to be and he said that he doesn't know. Now I have been following Elena recently as I was interested in her weird powers and why proposing to her brought out invisible things. I also wondered what would happen if she was proposed to in front of normal human beings?

I followed her around and she is always dating someone. Her latest date they have been going out for a year now and he had proposed to her out in public with people watching. All those people turned into those alien because of Elena's annoyance, embarrassment and pressure. Then the people that had turned into the alien creatures, had also turned invisible. The very same creatures that we hunt down by using Elena and proposing to her in places that are supposedly empty. It's a vicious circle. Elena is the alien from space and she turning others into one.

I went to my manager and he shut the door hard and said "you shut the hell up and if you tell anyone then our organisation will be shut down and we will be relying on government benefits"

When I heard that I just decided to play along, in the end he is right, it's the best job I have ever had.

We have new technology which can quickly undress you and put you into new clothes. You simply step into a box and the machine quickly takes off whatever clothes you are wearing when you got into the box, and then it quickly changes you within a minute. It's super wicked fast and you have no idea how this machine makes life so much easier. Changing clothes early in the morning or late at night is actually a chore. This machine is a life saver really and saves so much time. I heard theyare making another machine which can also wash you and make you clean, along side changing your clothes.

We have these machines at work and so employees will arrive at work in their regular clothes, and then step into this box and the machine will change them into uniform. Then when they are going home they will go into the box again so that they could go home in their regular clothes. Also before getting into the box you have got to take out any phones or wallets you may have on you. Or otherwise the machine will definitely lose it. It's such a cool device and saves so much time.

I definitely know that it had improved the life of a lazy co worker called Candice. She always use to make excuses as to why she was late for work. She has actually on a couple of occasions, gave the excuse of not preparing her uniform properly at work but now this machine will dress her. So nobody takes uniform home anymore and this machines cleans and looks after the uniform. It's incredible and she has come into work in a grumpy mood on many occasions, knowing that she can't use the excuse of something happening to her uniform.

She one day came into work early morning and it looks like she was partying all night. She came in looking all tired and she took out her phone and other belonging from her pockets. Then when she stepped into the machine, she screamed. The scream echoed through out the work space and every gathered around the machine. When candice came out, she was definitely in her uniform, but she had no skin left. She then collapsed to the floor and died in hospital.

When investigation into the incident was being carried forward, it was found out that Candice for the party she went to the night before work, she had actually painted and drawn highly realistic clothes on her body. So she was actually naked when she walked into work that day and nobody noticed that she was naked, because of how realistic the painting and drawing of the clothes were, which were drawn onto her body.

So the machine took off her skin and put the uniform on her body. She must have forgotten that's he wasn't wearing real clothes.