《DICE》THREE
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1 P.M.
It takes an eternity to lose the paralyzing numbness in my limbs, but slowly and unwillingly, the pain subsides and a rough sense of clarity returns to my mind. My eyes learn to focus. On the faint cracks in the walls, the growing spot of mold in the corner, the little spider dancing its way up my fingers.
I’m in the basement of my own home. But not quite. The basement I remember was stacked to the ceiling with garbage we can’t seem to throw away, walls brown and peeling.
But I smell the walls before I notice, freshly painted chemical eggshell. It is a small room, not unlike my own. A mattress in the corner, a desk next to it. And above the wall it leans against, there’s a small narrow window. The grate paints over the room with small squares of sunlight.
And it was clean. What had been boxes after boxes of overflowing crap, the basement now left no trace of its once unruly past. I had hated this room. The place where things go to die. When I got too old for Mr. Teddy. My bike. My action figures with one head too little and arms all wrong.
I guess, now it’s my turn. What the fuck.
The only thing I recognize, is the same old staircase and the same old door it leads up to. The red basement door. It’s a stark, angry color, like fury in color-scale, and it seems to loom over the otherwise ashen room, ominous and taunting at once.
I try to stand, but it’s an impossible feat. I’m grounded by a bodily ache I cannot shake. Instead, I rest my weight on my knees, and unsteadily, step by step, I crawl up the staircase. It’s longer than it looks, because by the time I make it to the top step, my chest is on fire and I’m gasping deep helpless breaths.
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I climb up slowly against the door, until my hand meets the cold metal of the door handle. A startling thought rips through my mind, brutal and cruel. They’re going to be sorry for what they did. Then I turn the handle.
But the door stays shut. I hear the shift of the bolts unlatching, but the door does not budge.. I try again, again, and again, until I press my ear against the door and I hear the muffled rattle of metal padlocks through the thick wood and something cold crawls up my spine. It’s trepidation or shock or something of the mix. I’m pulsating with an amalgamation of horror and anger and it makes my fingers shake.
They curl to a fist. “Let me out,” I say.
When there is no reply, I rattle the door handle again. “Is this some sort of sick joke,” I laugh, but a bubble of dread rises to my throat. I twist and jerk and in my wild desperation attempt to rip the handle from its installation, but only to complete and utter futility. What if they can’t hear me? Instead I bang my fist against the door and I yell, “I said let me out!”
My throat feels scorched by fire. But I grit my teeth to scream again. And again. Yet all I am met with is the echo of my own voice, harsh and strangled.
I turn the door handle again, and this time, I push with all my might. My bones strain. My muscles cramp. The door stresses against the padlock, but it leaves a slither of space between the door and the frame. Just enough to get a glimpse through the gap. Immediately, I recoil, jerking back from the door.
They’re standing behind the door. Both of them. Still as a painting. My father stares back at me. Dark blue eyes of my own, like looking into a mirror. Was it the faint smile? The crinkles in his cheeks? The lack of regard in his eyes? In an instant, my surprise morphs to a violence I’ve never known myself to possess.
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I propel myself into the door. Jamming my shoulder into the hard wood. It should hurt, but it doesn’t. I’m numb all over again. And I’m screaming, untamable, unrestrained, wild screeches. “LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!” I’m kicking, beating at the door, and I hear the metal rattle like my teeth.
But I would not be worthy of a response. The louder I was, the angrier, the stiller everything else was, the quieter. It drains me. My wrath sliding off my slicked skin and saturating the floor. Eventually, I hear their soft footsteps treading away from the door. And I hear my mother turn on the vacuum, her favorite song humming through the house in its sweet muted notes.
I stare at the door for some time, gasping for breath or in disbelief I will never know. My legs feel weak, my head heavy, but my chest is tight, strained by an anger that keeps me upright. Tiny splinters in the door mark my arms with littles holes, and like tiny planted seeds, they unfurl from my body in crimson lesions and red splotches; It turns my tongue poison. I close my eyes to imagine their soulless bodies still hovering behind the door. Their cruel eyes. Their hateful silence.
Then I spit at their feet.
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Doll of Death
A 10-year-old girl with no family was raised by an organization of assassins. Due to her killing all their best clients she was hated by everyone. After reaching the bottom line of the organization she was poisoned but found out about it and decided to bring everyone down with her. This is her story afterward in a different world where death is always a looming threat. She will have to do what she knows best to survive even without being human anymore. ______________________ Girl in cover from Pinterest.
8 93The Ocean Flame Palace Host
Schedule: I am officially going on an indefinite hiatus. Sorry to all readers but I just don't have any more ideas. Hai Yun is the youngest Divine Rank Alchemist on the Scarlet Flame continent. He was an orphan picked up by a wandering Alchemist Grand master and raised in the Crystal Ocean Alchemy Sect. As he soon got bored of refining other people’s recipes, he started creating his own. One such recipe was of an elixir that can allow one to retain their memories through reincarnation. He thought this heaven defying elixir could bring about a new golden age for alchemists, to let them keep all of their experience after death. However it only brings about a calamity as the other powers of the martial world immediately begin lusting after this divine object. They attack the Crystal Ocean Alchemy Sect en masse, razing it to the ground. To keep them from getting it, Hai Yun devours the Elixir and obliterates his body so they can never even find another trace of it in this world. However, in his reincarnation a series of very interesting things happen… Glossary: Wuxia Fantasies ***DISCLAIMER*** I do not own any of the artwork which was used in the book cover. It was found through google images. The person in the background of the cover: https://writer.dek-d.com/Viieeww10/story/view.php?id=1414895 The dragon: https://rocketdock.com/addon/walls/36597 The palace: no real link to the artist, but there is this - https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1ZBJ1LpXXXXcKXpXXq6xXFXXXL/24X36-INCH-font-b-ART-b-font-SILK-POSTER-castle-font-b-Magic-b-font-font.jpg
8 254One Punch Of Justice
Saitama from One Punch Man has unexpectedly crossed over to the One Piece world. In this vibrant and colorful world lies hidden danger that shall be brought to light by the existence of a Hero and bring justice to the common people. Whether the perpetrators be Pirates or Marines, all shall be brought to justice!
8 133Naga rising (Final version)
Eshanai used to think that her life was pretty good, that the elders of her tribe of Naga sisters had their best interests at heart. But one suspiciously regular disaster after another sort of makes you question things. So when Eshanai decides to go out on the island to do the unthinkable, break some rules, and nothing terrible happens to her like the elders said it would, her questions start to multiply. What else could the elders be wrong about? Were the Naga really chosen by the spirits? And could there be other people out there, beyond their island? Follow Eshanai and some of her sisters as she tries to find a way to leave the island and comes up with increasingly creative ways to get into a certain Oni's pants. Author's note: This is not a rewrite of my original Naga rising story. It's more of a reimagining, as it contains many of the same characters and settings but will have a completely different plot. Be advised that the two are not related to one another. This should not be seen as any form of sequel or prequel story. So I have caught up to my backlog, and at first, I thought I could release a chapter once a week. That turned out to be unrealistic as I am writing in my spare time, so periods of inaction might not be uncommon. Some of the tags might not come into effect until later on in the story.
8 90Psyche Reflection
In the universe, Year 20XX, there exists people who are able to enter the cognitive realms of others and alter their perceptions and emotions, for better or worse. These people are known as "Divers" for their ability to dive into the psyche of others in a process called the "Psyche Dive". The cognitive realm is unique to each individual, hence it's also named the "Reflected World". There, one's innermost emotions and beliefs are materialised when the balance between the id (source of psychodynamic energy, represented by our desires and individuality.) and the superego (represented by our conscience and need to conform to society) is disrupted, with the id overpowering the superego more often than not.As a result, the excess psychodynamic energy on either side results in the formation of Spectres, ghost-like beings that haunt the ego (an individual's personality) and push a person to ruin by clouding his perceptions of reality, influencing his decision making in the process. If left unchecked, Spectres would continue to grow in number and power, eventually consuming the ego completely to form Demons within the person's psyche. At this point, it is extremely difficult to restore a person's id to its original state, as Demons are often extremely powerful and well-protected by their army of Spectres. People who are possessed by Demons are often twisted individuals who commit the most heinous of crimes, as they have lost all of their conscience and morals, fuelled only by their desires. The Divers are the last hope for humanity against the Spectres and Demons. Armed with the power to use their cognition to fashion into effective weapons against these abominations, the Divers seek to cleanse the minds of victims from such insidious influences. 21 year old Lee Jin Kai became a Diver abruptly on his first day as a University student, after a chance meeting with a beautiful foreign exchange student by the name of Aiko Verde. Despite having different motivations, the pair must now stick together, as they traverse the psyches of various people while gathering comrades, resolving real-world issues in the process... Inspired by Persona 5.
8 189His Lordship
Lev, a 24-year-old college student decides to create a world of his own, a digital fantasy world. His lack of social skills and moral value lead him to his fate: leaving this world behind for another. The world he created is an A.I. inhabited world, every single person in this world has human-like consciousness and habits. Lev spent years creating this world to be the perfect vessel for his malicious goals. Will he become a lord of his own or will his plans fall into the abyss?
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