Showing posts with label curse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label curse. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Microstory 2462: Aztec Empire

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My girlfriend dragged me to this place. She’s all in on this historical BS, and I couldn’t be less interested. I’m writing this anonymously because she won’t let us leave, and I cannot even with this guy. He keeps talking about their traditions and customs, but I just don’t care. I’m telling her that I’m looking up extra information about the Aztecs, so you’re my excuse. Just be cool, okay? Be cool. I will say that it is nice here. Like, they did a good job making it feel like you traveled through time to ancient Aztecia, or whatever you’re supposed to call it. I’m sorry, I’m not listening to him. There are a few weird things. The androids who are programmed to believe that they’re Aztecs mostly ignore you. They just go about their day like you’re invisible. Something the guide will say will sometimes trigger them to respond in some way that is relevant. For instance, the guide mentioned how a man would court a woman, and then we would see that play out off to the side. I didn’t notice they were doing that right away, but I guess that’s a nice touch. It’s like they’re a part of this elaborate show, but they don’t realize it, because everything is so well-timed. Anyway, a few of the androids seemed to be breaking character, or they were just straight up broken, because they did seem to notice us. One kid just kept staring at me. I looked over my shoulder to see if there was anyone or anything else, but nothing. I moved over to the side to see if his eyeballs would follow me, and they did. At one point, he pointed right at me, and mumbled something in whatever language they spoke. I had kind of fallen behind the tour at that point, so no one else saw. My girlfriend didn’t even completely believe me about it. It was creepy, but honestly, it made the trip that much more interesting. Well, no. It made it slightly more tolerable. That’s a better way to put it. Come here, don’t come here, I don’t care. Just don’t stray from the pack, lest you be cursed by some evil shaman child. Beware.

Thursday, September 23, 2021

Microstory 1719: The Centaurs

My people have been cursed to wander the continent forever. We may stop to rest for the night, and gather resources, but then we must continue. Legend says that anyone who spends too long in one place will be turned to stone. This is not entirely true, but it is not completely false either. A body cannot transform into stone, but it can become stone-like. Their skin will harden, and their feet will root into the ground. The enemy who cursed us decided that we would have a choice, and treated this choice as a great gift. We can either keep moving, or we can never move again. Of course, that is no choice at all. Some say the stonemen are kept alive where they are forever, but there is no way for us to know that. If we ever see someone become stonelike, the only course of action is to get moving again, and we are always long gone before the stonemen can die... or not, if that is the case. No one here was alive when the curse fell upon us. We were all born into this way of living, and most of us accept that there is nothing we can do about it. I am not so sure. I know that there is a way out of this, and it’s all because of something I once saw when I separated myself from the group for a brief period of time. Going off is a fine thing to do. In fact, our tribe has been split a few times over the decades. Some groups would prefer to go another direction, while a few individuals have determined that they would survive better on their own. Many of us just like to walk alone for a while, but then we rejoin later. One day, when alone, I encountered something I had never seen before. We have come across many other tribes, but we try to steer clear, worried that the curse will befall them as well if they spend too much time with us. We would wish this on no one. The few individuals I saw that day were different. They were sitting upon great beasts, which evidently walked for them. They called these creatures horses, and referred to themselves as The Centaurs. I was in awe, and hopeful that there was some way for my tribe to rest and walk at the same time.

I begged these Centaurs to follow me, so I could show my people what they have discovered, but they were worried. To begin, they did not want to incur the wrath of the demons who cursed us in the first place. I have never seen one of these demons myself, but I have seen stonemen, so I know that someone must have done this to us, and that it is not some kind of elaborate lie to control us. Still, the demons could be watching us in secret, and if so, would be capable of punishing us further for attempting to find a way out of our predicament. The Centaurs were also worried that we would steal their horses for ourselves. We are noble and just, and would never do such a thing, but I understand the concern. All I want to know is where they found their animals, and whether we could find more for ourselves. In the end, they did not agree, and I was forced to return to the group with only my word. Many believed what I told them of the Centaurs, but not everyone, and of those who did, some did not believe it would be a good option. As far as I knew, only eleven horses existed in the entire world. That would not be enough to sustain our entire population. I urged them to reconsider, assuming there to be greater number of the animals somewhere, but also pointed out that eleven would be enough for us to take turns. It did not matter, they believed. We didn’t know where any of these horses were, and there was every chance we would happen upon them as we continued to wander. Looking for them on purpose would not increase the odds. It would, I explained, if we spread out more, but still, they refused to hear me. Frustrated with their skepticism, I have now separated myself once more, and I am not sure if I will ever rejoin. I keep walking in a lateral direction, always hoping to randomly come across more Centaurs, or better yet, unused horses. Instead, I have found something else. It is a massive object that I can barely describe. It’s yellow, but covered in black rectangles. There are four black circles on the bottom near each corner, which rest upon the ground. I step inside to find dozens of seats that would make quite comfortable beds, but one looks special. It’s in the front, and there are tons of objects along with it, like little dots, and another black circle. I see something shiny underneath it, and feel a compulsion not to take it out, but to turn it. The yellow object roars and shakes, and for a moment, I’m worried that it’s going to eat me. I cannot let it, so I sit down in the seat, and start tinkering with everything I find that moves. A couple of things are at my feet. When I step on one, the entire thing lurches just a little bit. I keep moving things around, trying to figure out how this thing works, and eventually realize that the entire yellow object is some kind of motion machine. After some trial and error, I manage to make it go for an extended period of time, all the way back to the group. I am the Centaur now.

Friday, March 26, 2021

Microstory 1590: Isolated

Prompt
I have the ability to feel other people’s pain, but I can’t do anything about it, so I’ve moved out to the middle of nowhere, and plan to avoid people as much as possible.

Botner
Not just to protect myself, but also to help the curse on my life disappear as soon as I can. I’m stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, by my lonesome. No one knows where I am. And that scares me more than I can explain, as it means that they’re all waiting for me to turn up again, and either find me or confront me. I’m not good at hiding things. I have a very bad conscience. It feels as if my chest would burst from the weight of what I’ve been through. But I’m not alone in the house, or in the hills. I have a loving cousin who understands my curse, and who has promised to hide me and help me as much as he can. I have friends, too, who believe in me and who I can talk to about anything. I feel my power is growing, too. I’m seeing power in objects around me that wasn’t there before, and my curse is helping it happen. It’s getting harder to hide. I’m only hiding myself because it’s safer than talking to my neighbors, who think I’m a dangerous psychopath. Even though I’m not. With...

Conclusion
...everything going on in the world right now, I should look quite normal as a hermit, but you know people, they talk. For the last week, my satellite internet has been down, and I don’t know how to fix it myself. I keep trying to force myself to go into town to get some help, but I just can’t do it. It hurts too much. Now that I know how much easier life is when there’s no one around to mess with my feelings and senses, I can’t go back to how it was. I don’t want to spend another minute around another person. My cousin hasn’t attempted to come help me, even though I missed our weekly video chat check-in. He’s given up, as have my friends. I look around the cabin for something to do, but I didn’t bring a whole lot of entertainment with me, because I was intending to stay connected to the world virtually. Another week goes by, and I still haven’t worked up the courage to seek help. I have, however, given the simple life a real shot. My garden is blooming, and I am loving the long walks I take through the woods. Maybe I don’t need the internet at all. Even without my curse forcing me into it, maybe this is the best life I could have asked for. Right now, I’m farther from my home than I ever have been before, and it turns out I’m pretty close to some campgrounds. I hear music in the distance, but there’s only one tent within my pain-sensing range. It must be empty, though, because I’m not feeling any pain, emotional or physical. I turn back, glad that I didn’t run into anyone else, when a woman appears from around the bend, holding a stack of firewood. It’s amazing, I don’t feel anything but serenity, love, and joy from her. I don’t know if that means she isn’t feeling any pain, or there’s just something different about her. I wonder what my life could be life if we were together, just me and her. I would no longer have to be alone, and my curse wouldn’t matter anymore. She smiles at me politely, completely unaware of how incredibly magnificent she is, and how great it feels just to be around her. I can’t tell her, either. She wouldn’t understand, and it would just make her uncomfortable. All I can do is tip my hat, walk past her, and move on with my life without ever seeing her again.

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

Microstory 1587: Nonstop

Prompt
I found a treadmill on the side of the road, and started using it the next day. I could literally see the fat dripping off of my stomach as I was running.

Botner
A dude riding a bike passed me, looked at me, and said, “if you’re on there, you must be a junkie, you can’t be running.” Unfortunately, it took two months of running on that treadmill before my body could actually move again. I was basically incapacitated. I was barely able to stand or walk. But every time I went to the store, or a restaurant, I told people I was a military veteran. That was all I could remember—how to tell people I was in the military and that I had been hurt. People told me I needed to go to the VA for help, and I thought they were right. They were asking me if I was drunk, which at the time I was not. When I went to the VA, they said, “Well, we can’t give you any drugs because you haven’t been diagnosed. You just had your wrist blown off. But if you stop taking the treadmill, you’ll die.” They didn’t know what was going on with my brain. They were just looking at me like, “you’re scaring us. You need to get off of this machine.” That was the most dehumanizing...

Conclusion
...experience of my life, and I felt like crap for lying to people. I had never heard of stolen valor before, but I knew the whole time that it was wrong. I stopped telling the lie, but that wasn’t my most pressing problem. If I spend more than two days off of this treadmill, the fat I lost starts coming back. It comes back fast, like the frost on a windshield when the heater doesn’t work, and all you have is wiper fluid. It doesn’t stop either. When I first tried to take a break, I gained even more weight than I had when I started using the damn thing. Who would do this to me? Who would leave this cursed treadmill out there for anyone to pick up, knowing what it would do? I learn to run twice a day, just to be safe. I don’t have to run several miles, or anything, but I can’t leave it be for too long. It’s like the machine is a pet, and requires frequent attention, or it’ll start chewing up my shoes. I wish that those were the consequences. I would take a closet full of destroyed shoes over this nonstop life of running. The dude on the bike rides back up to my garage during my workout one day. “There’s a way to stop this from happening, you know. You can even keep all that fat off. All you have to do is give the treadmill to someone else.” What is he, the girl from The Ring? No, I’m not doing that, I’m not subjecting someone else to this horror. It ends here. It ends with me. But I’m not running anymore either. I take the treadmill out to the middle of an empty field, douse it with lighter fluid, and set the wretched thing on fire. I hope that ends the curse, but if it doesn’t, at least it won’t be able to hurt anyone else. The next day, the fat starts to return again, and it doesn’t stop. At my peak, I weigh 1,500 pounds. But then a funny thing happens. I start losing the weight again. It just rolls off me, and I have to take it out with the garbage. I’m happy for a while, satisfied that I broke the curse, but then I start to wonder if I did. Maybe the treadmill can’t be destroyed, and some other poor schmuck just happened to find it out in that field.

Friday, August 16, 2019

Microstory 1170: Jarrett Grier

Jarrett Grier was born into the Grier family curse, but it didn’t seem to impact him as much as it did for others. For one thing, he didn’t much care what other people thought of him, so their time-displaced animosity just rolled off his back. When he accidentally killed Annora Ubiña in the microponics bay of The Elizabeth Warren, and placed the whole ship into a state of panic, he knew it was over for him. Though he had access to another spatial dimension, he was still stuck on a vessel in outer space, and there was nowhere to run. He managed to stay hidden for years, but the crew eventually found him, and once the ship landed on Earth, they had to decide what to do with him. The adjudicative system on Earth had changed much since the last information his history teachers on his home planet of Durus had on the subject. No longer were accused judged by a randomly selected board of their peers, nor on the flipside, a bullshit selection of jurors, chosen by a team of experts who specialize in corrupting the process. Each of two arbitration panels consisted of three arbiters, drawn from the civilian pool, but were supplemented by two educated arbitrators, who fully understand how the law worked. Advocates and adherents worked together to find the truth, rather than fighting over technicalities, and were monitored by a highly trained adjudicator, who managed the ethics of all other parties. Each panel deliberated separately, so as to lessen personal bias, and to arrive at a more reliable consensus. These changes, according to scholars, drastically diminished unfair sentences, and dramatically quickened the process, but at the same time, it was becoming less and less relevant. Crime continued to decline over the years. Ubiquitous surveillance, sophisticated crime scene synthesis, and less ambiguous investigative procedures made for a safer world. Plus, there just weren’t as many justifications to commit crime anymore. Historically, there have been but a handful of reasons to kill, and the obsolescence of money has eradicated greedful murder. For other motives, it’s just too hard to get away with it anyway, so the judicial system wasn’t prepared for Jarrett. That, combined with the fact that the court proceedings would have exposed time travel to the greater vonearthan population, meant that trying him officially just was not possible. Traditionally, Beaver Haven Penitentiary was designated for people with time powers who risked such exposure, though certain exceptions had been made. Following his confession, and due to a lack of variety in sentencing, Jarrett was summarily sent to Beaver Haven without a trial. He died here of age-related illness, and nobody cared.

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Microstory 1123: Hadron Grier

There once was a planet orbiting a star. There was nothing particularly astonishing about this planet, nor its parent. But this rocky world had a gas giant brother, who nudged himself closer to their mother with every orbit. The gravitational disturbance grew to be too much for the smaller planet to handle, so it was ejected from its system, and began a long journey across the Milky Way. Through means unknown, it formed a connection to Earth. It had never encountered Earth before, nor had anyone traveled from one to the other. Temporal anomalies are, for the most part, random and unpredictable. This quantum connection had dangerous implications, however. People started slipping through the breach, and ended up on the rogue world with barely enough resources to survive. They wouldn’t have been able to survive at all, however, if the world they called Durus hadn’t been borrowing any resources from Earth. It was a cold and lifeless place, except that it funneled warmth and a breathable atmosphere from its far away partner. A society was formed by the castaways, but this society was far from perfect, and life was difficult, even for the most well-off. Hadron Grier’s family was always on the fringes, though no one seemed to be able to explain why. They weren’t known for revolting against the leadership, or siding with that leadership as it was falling. They weren’t notably poorer than others, or less equipped to contribute positively to society. They just somehow developed this stigma, so people around them grew up being told to stay away. Some believed it was some kind of curse, while others simply did not give it much thought. As it turns out, the former were partly right. Generations later, Hadron’s father became one of the last holdouts when the government transitioned from the phallocratic republic to the provisional democracy. He accidentally killed a political candidate during a protest, and was sent to prison for life. This had terrible consequences, not only for the future, but the past. The candidate was a mage remnant, who lived his whole life without knowing what he could do, and it’s unclear today exactly what how it could have manifested if he remained alive. His death, however, echoed in both directions of time, ultimately branding the Griers as the outcasts they were seemingly predestined to be. It was a self-fulling prophecy at its finest, for the only reason Hadron’s father was so angry was because of how his family had been treated since humans first arrived on Durus. Hadron wanted to leave his past behind, and start a new life on Earth, but was summarily rejected. There was only so much room on the vessel that was making the trip, and already one Grier was on the manifest; his cousin. Jarrett considered this to be unfair, and after several unsuccessful attempts at rectifying the situation, decided to sneak Hadron aboard anyway. Their deception was discovered, and Hadron yet again fell victim to his family’s curse when he was locked up in the ship’s secret jail. Jarrett’s crime was obvious. He followed in his uncle’s footsteps, and killed the woman who had imprisoned his cousin. Hadron’s crime was not so cut and dried, and it was completely unprosecutable once they arrived on Earth. So the question became, what to do with him now?