《Toymaker's Creation》Chapter 8 - Sometimes, Things Are Scary
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Rick was led around on the first day, walking around the village with Benji after his mother had left for the city. It was a stressful day for Rick, the kid’s energy miles above his own, like looking up a cliff you knew you had to climb. Rick was brought to shop after shop, perusing, watching, gazing at multiple different items. Nothing ever bought, never walking into the shops, not that there were many opened in the first place. According to Benji that was due to there being more money in the city during autumn. And there being hotter and cooler and better there. Rick took the explanation with a grain of salt but nodded nevertheless.
On the second day, they walked the road, going from one end of the village to the other. The knight tagging along this time, Rick like an after-thought as the two played, like whales playing in the high seas, Rick being the dolphin tagging along. To occupy his time, Rick marveled at how far between the houses were from one another. He knew that the center of the village had many shops, bundled together like the densest haystack. But the actual houses were spread apart, connected only by a snaking road, a very well-kept road. He wondered how they dealt with monsters in the woods, considering how close they were to them and how they helped one another. It had taken Rick almost two hours to walk from Benji’s house to the center of the village. Rick noted that Benji was leading him and the knight near the outskirts of the village, like stones skipping water, avoiding most people. Rick preferred it this way, he never enjoyed first impressions, always leading to awkward and stiff silences, but he still noted it.
On the third day, Rick woke as some strange light danced in front of his closed eyes, Benji coming mere minutes later crying, screaming that the knight was dead. Rick was confused, surprised, saddened but ended on relief. Seeing Benji clutching a “dead” knight in his hands made him breathe out in relief. For he knew the problem, a problem easily and quickly fixed. The knight waking up as if woken from the brink of death after Rick had imbued his life into him, clutching at his chest with vigor, looking like a ghoul awaken from death. It looked pretty funny, but to Benji, it was the most dramatic, traumatic event of his short life, clutching the knight even tighter, telling him he’d never let him go, crying for hours upon hours. Rick doing his best to sooth him, trying to gesture, to teach Benji that he could “save” him too. Something that took several more hours, and Rick wasn’t even sure if Benji had completely understood.
After that eventful event, nothing much happened, the normally energetic Benji seeming wrung out, like wet cloth after a thorough squeezing. And Rick noticed something else, it could just be his imagination, but it felt like Benji kept a tighter grip around the knight and kept closer to Rick. When Rick cooked food, Benji clung to his leg, watching. When Rick prepared the bath, Benji stood there, clung to his leg, watching. When he bathed, Benji bathed too. When Rick prepared the bed, Benji came tip-toing with the knight in hand, sneaking into Rick’s bed when he thought he had fallen asleep, something Rick allowed, the kid probably a little scared that the knight would “die” again.
On the fourth day, Benji seemed back to normal, only difference being him staying closer to Rick. Benji even seemed more alert than normal, more comfortable, renewed power levels, energy reaching over the nine of thousands. Taking, or rather forcing Rick on an adventure into what Benji called his “secret” places, places hard to reach either due to being too far into the woods or hard to reach due to their heights. They were beautiful, often with spectacular views of the surroundings, like portals into a fantasy world, like hidden rooms, like attics for kids. He enjoyed them, even finding and collecting excellent woods that he pushed into a borrowed backpack.
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But during one of his inspections of a particularly hard wood, Benji seemed very nervous, very skittish, staring wide eyed at Rick as he told him that they had to go. It was very unusual for Benji to want to leave this quickly, jumping up and down on his feet, throwing glances to and fro from the beautiful sights. Rick really didn’t understand why, but he understood the need, nodding as he guided them away and back to the village.
Nothing happened on the way back, but Benji seemed shaken, white like a ghost on Christmas day. And as they got home, Benji immediately went into his room, the knight following quickly, Rick too. But he wouldn’t get an explanation, no matter how much he gestured. Though Benji seemed comforted by Rick’s and the knights’ presence. The day ending with Rick and Benji sleeping in the same bed, an creeping unease in Rick's mind, slow to fade away.
On the fifth day, Rick decided to explore on his own, Benji seeming content to stay inside at home. Rick finding that a contingency of soldiers had arrived to the village’s center, surrounded by many villagers, standing around the village posting board, like dogs gathered around a carcass. Rick recognized the emblem on the soldier’s clothing, an emblem representing the soldiers from the city. But Rick didn’t fear, felt no fear, wasn’t afraid. It had been a week or more since he had fled. He had bathed, had new clothes and was well fed, he was practically a different person from the one who had left. He did not fear discovery, at the moment, he was just happy.
Then the soldiers walked away, followed by most of the villagers, spreading out like fish in a pond after being fed. Rick, followed by a few others, walked up to the posting board, staring at the wanted poster, feeling the blood within him freezing to a stop. He didn’t know the words; He didn’t understand the numbers, couldn’t even differentiate the two. But he knew what a wanted poster was, and he immediately recognized what was on the poster, being a perfect drawing of the princess statue he had carved. And next to it, a fuzzy, hard to decipher picture of what Rick assumed to be him.
Rick immediately fled the scene, walking fast, trying to look normal, head turned down, trying to look normal, sweating profusely while hiding it, trying to look normal. The walk back feeling like decades, like walking the walk of shame, like being watched by the god of death. But he quickly came back home, not his but still home, a home he knew he would have to leave. Yet he couldn’t, he had promised, promised not to. The duality was like the worst soup, like the foulest of stench, like the sourest grape. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know. What to do.
The day dragged on, slower than any snail, every minute checking outside the window, scanning for a soldier on the horizon, waiting for an army of them coalescing on him, dragging him into the darkest of dungeons. Benji and Rick both in their own minds, going about their daily needs, having each other for comfort. Eating in silence, bathing in silence, playing in silence. The knight seemingly the only one unburdened, and Bob too, but Bob didn’t count, he never seemed burdened, always a pillar of stability, a pillar Rick desperately leaned on.
On the sixth day, Benji was unusually quiet, even the knight was, even if his was mostly forced, the two in what looked to be deep thought. Rick not wanting to bother them, himself being in deep thought; It wasn’t as deep as yesterday, the night giving him a chance to think, to ponder, to come to a conclusion. His conclusion being that he needed to escape. The soldiers were after him, and it might take a day or two for them to get to this house, but once they did, they would find him, and take him. Rick couldn’t risk waiting for Sigurd. It pained him, it really did, he really liked Benji, he was such a nice kid. But he had to look after himself first and foremost. Benji could take care of himself, especially if Rick left the knight to him. It would hurt Rick to leave the knight, but he and Benji shared such a special bond that it would break Rick’s heart even more if he took it from them.
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So, Rick pumped himself up, breathing deeply, breathing out just as deeply. He steeled himself, tuning himself into the sharpest sword, readying himself for what he needed to do, for what had to be done. He walked to Benji, took another deep breath, and started to gesture.
The next moment, Rick found himself teaching Benji how to carve. The thought of seeing Benji cry again, seeing him sad and then leaving him, made his heart weak. He could wait a day, one single day, tomorrow he would leave. Today he would teach him how to carve. Rick’s statue that he was working on being dull, uninspired, his thoughts too focused on other things. His statue not worthy of an uruz rune, still carved to teach Benji. Benji’s own statue was, ugly, to put it simply. He had carved what Rick could only assume was an imitation of the knight, but failed in every which way. Still, Benji looked very proud of it, the knight looking proud of it, Rick feeling proud for him, smiling on the inside. Rick showed Benji, once again, how to instill life into the statue, starting with his own, into the uninspired one, looking like a mesh of a soldier and a knight, looking stupid. As Rick felt the life within him flowing, a flicker of hope lit, washed away quickly as the logical part of his brain took over, knowing that this one wouldn’t be it. And like he had assumed, it wasn’t, staring blank and dead, no life whatsoever within it. This one not even responding to Rick’s gestures, not trying to imitate. Put simply, another failure.
Benji’s statue was different though. As it filled with life, life from Benji, it moved immediately. Rick stared wide eyed, rubbing at his eyes twice, blinking thrice. It could not be. It couldn’t be true. Could it be alive? The statue walked, moved, like the most noble soldier, the knight taking step beside it. The two walking around the table with vigour and splendor. Rick felt it bubbling, rising to surface, a feeling he had always hoped for, not realized it would come true by a child. Rick stared with awe, with wonder, trying to figure out what Benji had done differently from himself.
But the hope ebbed away as time continued on. The soldier, the statue, the toy, it was merely walking, nothing more, nothing less. The flicker of life Rick thought he had seen was just an illusion, like all things he'd made. Its eyes lifeless, its motion mechanical, fixed to only marching. Even lacking what most of Rick’s statues had, the ability to imitate. But none the less, Benji was ecstatic, jumping around as if bouncing on the softest ground, like a ball of energy ready to burst. Rick smiled inwardly at the bubble of excitement, outwardly staring neutrally, happy that the kid was happy, happy that he wasn’t thinking too hard, happy that he was acting like a kid again.
Rick looked outside the window, like he had done many times now, like a cat hearing something loud, skittish and nervous, noting that it had gotten dark. Rick gestured at Benji that they should sleep, calming him down. The two cleaning up before bed, doing their respective tasks. And as they did, Benji spoke up, not unusual, but what was, was how meek he sounded, like a mouse trying to beg for cheese.
“Uhm, ca-can I te- tell you something?”
He said, shifting his sights from Rick to the knight, the knight seeming to urge Benji on, smiling happily, thumbs held high. Benji gulped, Rick gulped, worried about what he would say. Whatever it would be, it couldn’t be good, and he really, really hoped it wasn’t Benji wanting him to stay. Rick didn’t have a big enough heart to handle that sort of pain. But what he said instead, was like a tidal wave of cold water, forcing him awake and struggling for breath.
“You know when we were at my secret place? I saw a giant monster that looked almost exactly like the monster you ki-killed. It was very far away, but it was huge, and I think it saw me. But then we ran away, and it didn’t follow and it was very far away and I was so scared but I couldn’t tell you but then I told mister knight and he told me to tell you but I couldn’t then mister knight told me again to tell you and now I tell you and I’m so sorry for not saying this earlier.. I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore, because you will protect me, you and mister knight-”
Rick blinked twice, thrice, opening and closing his mouth like a fish on dry land. He couldn’t believe what he had heard, barely even hearing what Benji was saying as he continued talking, talking at the speed of a galloping horse. He even kept talking, his earlier shyness gone like the wind, talking about how Rick would protect him, how “mister” knight would protect him, how safe he felt. Rick could only do his best not to puke. He didn’t have a clue of how close to death he must have been. His mind forcing him back on his decision to leave, and he felt an urge, a need, a will to leave as fast as possible. But his heart stopped him, it talked to him, screamed at him to stay, to protect. But how would he do that? He wasn’t a hero, a monster hunter, a soldier. He didn’t know how to fight, he didn’t want to fight, he was scared like everybody else, he was scared of the monsters in the dark, of the monster lurking the woods. Yes, he might have killed two monster, two more than the majority of people, but that was mostly just luck and the fact that the monsters he faced was smaller than him. But if Benji was to be trusted, this new monster was “huge,” meaning either larger than an adult human or the same size.
So Rick did what he had to do. He smothered his heart, pushed it down, using logic and reason to win it over. He wasn’t strong; The heart had to agree. He didn’t have any weapons; The heart had to agree. The monster was far away; The heart had to agree. There were soldiers in the village who would hunt it down; The heart had to agree. They were inside and protected; The heart had to agree.
And that was that, Rick had pushed it down, feelings grey like the dullest colour, coming to terms that he would leave at the first break of dawn. Benji talking like the most vivid king speaking to his subjects. Rick listened with deaf ears, nodding where he had too, shaking were he wanted too. Yes, he would leave at the break of dawn. He would save himself. The kid would be all right, he didn’t have to feel bad.
After some time, the kid calmed down and the two went to bed, one happy and safe, the other motionless and grey. One having the lightest sleep, the other sleeping like a rock. Rick stared up at the ceiling, time like water in the ocean, slow but steady. His mind was equally slow, it’s task already set, just reminding, reminding, reminding the heart to stay still, to stay quiet. Hard to do when something was scratching at the walls. Rick’s already fully awake mind picking up on every little sound, the flies in the room, the insects crawling, and that strange, strange scratching. It didn’t sound like something was scratching intently though. Rather, it sounded like a cats paw on hard wood-
Rick flew up on his bed, staring wide eyed at the wall. Realising that the scratches was to uniform, too predictable to be random. Something was out there, walking, prowling. Sweat pouring down Rick’s every crevice, down every pore. His heart beating like it had never beaten before, louder than a dwarf crafting his most excellent piece.
Benji.
Rick’s mind flashed, forcing him up and out of his room. Body moving on its own, eyes like the biggest globes.
Coming into the living room, he kept his eyes on the window, outside being dark like the void, hiding whatever was out there. Rick crept through the room, walking as slowly as he could, staring at the window, tip-toing towards Benji’s room.
Then “it” came into view, two globes of light, like two moons, like two suns, like torches in the night. It stared into the dark living room through the window, its head hidden by the dark void, eyes beacons of light. Rick gulped it all in, his eyes at the same height as the thing, pupils like a cat, but narrower, golden with irises of the darkest black. It blinked like a lizard, staring into the house, searching it, scanning it.
Eyes lingered on where Rick stood, Rick still like the best statue, learned from years of experience. It waited patiently, waited expertly, waited for something. Something that was Rick, something it did not see, something it wouldn’t see as Rick would not move, not even the strongest wind could move him now.
The moment like a mountain corroded by a river, feeling like decades, maybe centuries, probably only a few seconds. It looked away eventually, and its scratch-scratching continued on as it patrolled the rest of the house. Rick still standing still, waiting for the sounds to completely disappear, waiting for light to enter, waiting for Benji to wake. The sounds stopped, replaced by a clawing, pounding. Wood splintering from the weight of its claws, picking out pieces of wood from the door. Clawing patiently, a patience only strong monster held, a confidence only stronger monsters had, a fearlessness only the strongest monsters felt. Rick felt panic as the door was slowly clawed away, overwhelmed on what to do, mind not realising what he was doing. He had moved; Didn’t know where. He was standing in a pose holding something; He didn’t know what. The only thing he knew was that he was staring wide eyed at the door, waiting for it to break down, waiting for his inevitable death.
But one thought stood out, and he hated himself for having it.
“Why didn’t I leave earlier?”
Wooden door almost completely broken, glowing eyes visible through the cracks. Stopped suddenly, unnaturally. The door wasn’t ruined yet, but still it had stopped. Rick didn’t mind. He just stared, being prepared for whatever. Then it moved away, the scratching disappearing into a dim nothing. Quickly replaced by a sudden scream, turning into a louder screaming, then silence. Rick kept staring at the door, breathing heavily as if having exerted himself, sweating like running the longest marathon, waiting like a pregnant mother for her baby to come out.
His alert made him jump with a soundless yelp as Benji opened the door behind him. Benji coming out with fearful eyes, clutching a knight who held his sword forward, ready to face any danger. Benji’s eyes drew down on Rick, Rick followed his sight, seeing himself holding a dagger. Benji jumped forward, clutching Rick’s leg as he asked.
“What’s going on?”
But Rick could only stay silent, forcing Benji to do the same. The two waiting for dawn to break.
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Interface
Welcome to the World-City of Thousel, the sixth iteration of life on the planet. These are the recordings of the people of Thousel. Thousel is believed to be the second longest iteration of life, and the overall most prosperous compared to what we know about the past five iterations. Medicine and technology have all progressed abundantly, and the world itself has been turned into one great city, governed and managed by the Governmental-Company Alliance, or the GCA.These particular recordings concern the discovery of a peculiar machine. When two very different people find themselves bound by the fate of one mysterious bot, life in the World-City begins to change… Interface is a cyberpunk webnovel set in an ecumenopolis world where people evolved with electro-sensory abilities. These senses shape the face of modern technology and life in a world where the three largest corporations run what has effectively become the government. Each of these three companies control various aspects of life in the city, and they all constantly vie for domain and power over one another.The world stands at the precipice of biological, technological, and historical breakthrough. After decades of study into microbiology, archaeology, and geology, it has been discovered that sentient life has lived on the planet multiple times over. These past peoples are referred to as the “prior iterations of life,” and it is believed that five great civilizations were constructed before the rise of the modern world. No one can be sure for certain what caused these peoples’ extinction long ago, and the theories range from simply dying off over time to massive tectonic fractures in the face of the planet. Advanced technology, far more complicated than anything the people possess today, has been uncovered in multiple locations. This has lead scholars to speculate on exactly how long each iteration of life survived and how far they progressed as a society. None of the companies have been able to find a way to make this ancient technology work for their own profit. It is as though they are each missing the final key needed to unlock these centuries old secrets. What could this knowledge reveal about the nature of life across every iteration? What power could it give to the one who wields it?Far from the investigation into the origin of life, two kids unlock a new mystery – one that ties their fates to the discovery of an old, mysterious robot. Suddenly, eyes begin to turn towards them as life in the city of Thousel changes wherever they go…
8 107Catecholamine Web
Life as a neuro-based cryptocurrency miner is far from easy, but there are perks to living on the NeuroWeb. Perks Sendai lost when his long-term home, BlackStar Galaxy, went offline. Without his longtime avatar, his gear, his guild, the in-game cryptocurrency earnings, or even most of his friends, Sendai's going to have to hustle if he wants to make rent in the real world without spending sixteen hours a day pushing algorithms through his skull. His time in the fight pits of New Idaho mean he has a strong Neural-Affinity for melee combat, but the unfamiliar martial arts world of Wind of the Eight Kingdoms will take more than a brawler's instinct to master. If he's ever going to gather up his old crew and take revenge on the jerks who brought down BlackStar he'll need to become top dog in dozens of game worlds, especially if he doesn't want to starve while doing it. At least he's still got his reflexes, his two girlfriends on different sides of the planet, and his real-world pet cat, Mancini.
8 204The Legend of Fanaura: Cursed
'Hey, need some help there?' An unfamiliar voice echoed through her mind, and she startled, losing her grip on the red phial. It rolled through the grass, away from her. "Oh shoot!" she yelped, and her focus diverted from her opponent for a split second, but it was enough to prove fatal. The beast took advantage of her distraction and lunged towards her. She tried to back away, but in her haste, she stumbled and fell. She looked at the beast, inches away from her, and shut her eyes in fear. She raised her arms to cover her head, even if she knew it was futile. Yet seconds passed, and no pain came. Then she heard the beast let out a pained yelp. She opened her eyes to the familiar sounds of battle before her. A tall man stood before her, locked in battle with the beast. He wielded a sword as long as his height, yet it didn't seem to hinder him in the slightest. She watched in awe as he swung the obviously heavy sword around as if it were light as a feather. His movements were swift and precise, and it didn't take long before the beast fell to the ground, motionless. “You alright there, miss?” The man sheathed his sword across his back, before turning to her. Her eyes widened when she heard his voice. It was the same voice who had that had spoken into her mind and the cause of her almost-fatal distraction. "You...!" she hissed.***She was the chosen one to end the war between the Goddesses when they were supposed to take care of the world balance. Refused to be the pawn of the Goddess she chooses to kill herself, thinking that it will end her obligation and suffering. But when she woke up in another body, she realized that she can't outrun her fate. Being reborn in the same world after the end of the Goddesses war in a pre-apocalyptic situation, she knew she needs to face her fate as the cursed heroine. But her path won't be easy as darkness lurks and hidden between her friends and comrades waiting to punch her in the back and ruined her journey of redemption and world saving. Would she succeed or succumbed once more?
8 113The Core of a Factory
An abandoned steampunk arms factory, in the middle of a conflict torn former state of the Empire it served, gains a soul. This transforms it into a Lord, capable of turning land into power. Beset by enemies on all sides it must figure out how to win the war its creators lost a century ago. This is a progressive Dungeon Core novel (which is to say the core will progress and expand in scale, eventually) across multiple dimensions with different characteristics (e.g. steampunk, magic, mythological). It has rationalist leanings (paragraphs of reasoning) and litrpg leanings (there are stat blocks). The core game mechanical idea is something like "what if different flavors of magic power actually did come from controlling land" and then the story is: "what if there was a flavorless (artifact deck) dungeon core". Chapters will be relatively short (my aim is that in three column format each would fit on a wide screen monitor), the first few chapters - setting up the main character and mechanics - are currently the longest in the entire series. I write chapters in blocks, and then release them one a weekday (M-F; 6 PM GMT, unless RoyalRoad's publish thing screws up) until I run out. There may be a few days of gaps here and there if someone finds an egregious error I have to re-write around or if I am behind. In general though one can read this once a weekend. I may do slight retconns and edits, I'll make sure to put it in an authors note if I do.
8 89Ethan's Shield
The artifact hunters, Ethan and Vincent, worked together to find valuable artifacts across the galaxy. But due to greed from Vincent, Ethan was betrayed by him and ran off with artifacts that would have made them both rich. Ethan wanted his revenge, and once he heard that Vincent found an untouched star system, containing a long-gone civilization, he wanted to try his best to follow him there to try and gain the most valuable artifacts there. And he did manage it, but only to accidentally activate a strange artifact that made him and Vincent be transported to a different place. Now lost, they needed to find the way back from this strange and mysterious place. ---------- Length: I try to keep the chapters around 2000 words, but sometimes I would do more. (The first chapter is 4000 words btw)schedule: ***On Pause*** I would gladly appreciate getting reviews. Just to know if the story is good. I'm fine with critics.
8 201Fangs That Kill - (Lost boys imagines book 3)
Book 3 of imagines! Requests are Open!
8 162