《Memories of Madness: Illustrated Short Stories》Sip, Sip
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Pretty girl, pretty child, sweet little thing. What do you have there, Gulp wonders? What delicious treat do you have?
Gulp’s lumpy pate sat low in the water, as dark and craggy as a bolder. His eyes shone like headlights on the highway, brilliant orbs, perfectly reflecting the night’s lunar luminescence.
Do you have strawberry, Gulp wonders? Do you have chocolate? Is it vanilla? Perhaps even all? You humans are so creative at making even sweet, sweet.
His colossal feet kicked up plumes of sand and silt as Gulp shuffled closer to the shore, closer to the inviting sounds and smells of the promenade, with its janky music, and colourful signs.
Down here everything is salt. Every drip, every drop is the same. Everything looks the same, everything tastes the same, and that same is never sweet. No, never sweet. You would hate it, I think. It is never human sweet.
Gulp’s great arms pawed at the ground before him, dragging him through the gently tugging tides of the sea, pulling him closer and closer to the girl on the beach, sipping her delicious dairy treat.
You humans should share, Gulp thinks. There is enough sweetness to go around, Gulp thinks. Won’t you give Gulp a little drink? Won’t you give Gulp just a few sips?
The allure of that sweet nectar grew stronger and stronger. Gulp forgot restraint. He forgot to hide. He forgot how the children would run and scream whenever they saw him.
Yes, just a sip or two, yes?
Water cascaded over his shoulders and back as Gulp pulled himself to his full, colossal height. His dark, barnacle encrusted skin obscured the constellations. The warmth of his kelp and crustacean breath could almost be felt on the shore. That salty, savory breath, issuing in short, sharp pants.
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Don’t be greedy now, human. Share. Share. Just a sip. Just a sip.
The girl on the beach shivered a little, despite the warmth of the night and the gentle rumble of the van’s engine. She had wiped out a few times on the waves that afternoon, she reminded herself. All that dunking is not good for a person. She was probably catching a cold. She sighed. It was definitely not a good idea to be drinking a milkshake right now.
Sip. Sip.
A little annoyed at herself, she jumped down from the roof of the camper, pausing only briefly as a wave of anxiety washed over her. She shrugged it off, convinced now that she was coming down with something.
Siiip.
She walked a few paces to the nearby bin and dropped the milkshake, still two-thirds full, into the trash.
Gulp froze where he stood.
Shaking her head, the girl hopped up behind the steering wheel, and kicked the old stick-shift into first.
Gulp’s breath caught in his throat. He glanced between the girl and the bin. In abject silence, Gulp watched as the colourful van chugged away down the road, off into town. A poor, out-of-tune rendition of ‘Living on a Prayer’ following in the VW’s wake.
Not even a sip.
Gulp’s shoulders sagged, and he hugged his arms to his chest.
Not even one, sweet, little sip.
It was a joyless journey back home. Gulp waded into the depths one slow, current changing stride at a time. He walked until the great ocean submerged him. He walked until great gouts of salt water filled his nose, his ears and his eyes. Always salty, ever salty.
But it is never a sip, Gulp. Gulp never takes just a sip. Gulp is greedy, and that’s why the humans won’t share. Gulp is far too greedy.
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Gulp clambered along the reefs until he came again to the hollow cavern he called his home, tucked away in the darkest depths, far from the prying eyes of mortals.
Gulp likes sweet things too much. He can never just take a sip. Too greedy. Yes, too greedy.
Gulp paused to look at the empty husks of children and teenagers adorning the nooks and crannies of his little cave. They were hollow, drained, brittle frames, rocking in the gentle undulation of the all-encompassing sea.
Yes, never just a sip. Bad Gulp. Gulp never stops at just a sip.
Gulp repeated these words admonishingly to himself as he settled down to sleep, surrounded by salt. Surrounded always by salt, with not a sip of sweetness left to be found.
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Balancing of the world
Just as humanity reached the height of its power, it fell again. Mana was introduced into a previously balanced world, sending everything present into chaos. Humanity losing its technological advantages, fell back to the dark ages, back to when survival was all but guaranteed. Mana though useful for enhancing the body isn’t unlimited, and humanity fell behind fast. From experiments, a being of mana, born into this chaotic world. The first of its kind. Rather than thriving in a world to which it belongs, it has to model the world so it will suit its needs. As a lone being, it has to use its power over mana to influence beasts and humans alike to abide by its will and further its goals. It will manipulate intelligent lifeforms to do its bidding while believing that they are becoming stronger. It will help lower lifeforms and guide their lives until they fit into the world as envisioned by our being. Read how our protagonist starts in a small area, changing it to suit its needs, and then grows until the world is balanced and at peace again. This is my first story, and I don’t have an editor yet. My English should be good enough, but I expect to have to go back and do editing later on. I would classify this story as litRPG. There will be a type of system with blue boxes and all, though the perspective is the system itself and how it came to be and why it does what it does. As a single mighty being, there will be dungeon core influences such as expanding the area and influencing all within though there is no such thing as an actual dungeon. As humanity is trying to survive, there will also be some city/base building influences, and I will have some perspective changes to show how the forces are being perceived by the affected people. As I have a busy job, it will be hard to update consistently, but I am quite a bit ahead of what I have currently uploaded.
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A tyrant king has fled with his royal family, leaving only his bastard son behind. Having no experience in ruling a nation, he could only hope for the total annihilation of his kingdom by a foreign power. Surrounded by the chaos, a voice form a sealed stones make him an offer of salvation. That offer will turn the reality of this world upside down.
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Jake went from a promising disciple of the sect to trash because of a problem with his Dantian. All his possessions had been stolen after it was learned he could not cultivate and he was forced to do all the menial and humiliating tasks in the sect. Could he fix his dantian and become a cultivator? Hi all. This is my first attempt at writing a novel. Please bear with me and give me your honest opinion. If you like reading the book please follow for updates! Cheers
8 108The Fight We Chose
"No one starts a war—or rather, no one in his senses ought to do so—without first being clear in his mind what he intends to achieve by that war and how he intends to conduct it."- Harold G. Moore November 22nd, 1963: The eyes of the world turn to the American city of Dallas, Texas, where normality has been forever shattered. An attack the likes of which the world has never seen before has turned the Cold War on its head as the new factor in the silent conflict threatens the balance. The world already teetering on the brink of war, the United States and those that lead it now have to balance a new threat, fantastical in origin, alongside the many others that come with the turbulent era of the 1960s. Eras collide. Values clash. The nature of war remains unchanged.
8 119Walking in Shadows
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