《Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today》1. The End
Advertisement
Bam!
The blue sedan slammed into a tree. Glass shattered as the cinderblocks sitting in the front seat smashed through the front windshield and tumbled down the cliff. A few seconds passed, and then they crashed into the ground. Engine still revved by the brick on the gas pedal, the car growled, fighting the tree. Headlights flickered, lighting the night in strobes.
He jogged over and upended a tank over the car. Gas rushed out and coated the car, splashing through the open driver’s side window. He threw the gas left and right, sloshing it over the whole car.
At last, the tank ran dry. Drops of gas tumbled onto the car and gathered into the growing puddle on top of the trunk. He tossed the plastic tank aside and drew a knife, holding it over his wrist. Tensing, he closed his eyes.
This is the only way.
Blood splattered over the driver’s seat, the steering wheel, the shattered windshield. Finished, he quickly wrapped his wrist with a bandage, then leaned through the window and pulled the brick off the gas pedal.
The car quieted, idling against the tree.
He dropped the brick over the cliff. It clattered down, smashing into the cinderblocks far below. Finally, I can start over. Start over, with none of the debt collectors on my ass. None of their incessant phone calls and late night harassment visits. No death threats, no one stealing my paycheck, no suffering and struggling to pay back what my idiot father owes.
At long last, my planning pays off. This tiny, secluded highway, full of hairpin turns… people die here all the time, and it’s not uncommon for bodies to vanish, either. No one will suspect a thing. Everyone will think I’m dead, while I escape to another country to start over.
Advertisement
Goodbye, old life! From here on out, it’s a blank slate! I can live like a human being once more!
He tossed his cell phone into the car, then drew a lighter from his pocket. Flicking it on, he threw it at the car.
Whoosh!
A fireball engulfed the sedan. Paint crisped and burned. Upholstery lit up like old newspaper. A lightbulb popped with a shatter of glass, and the headlights went dark.
Pleased, he allowed himself a moment to bask in the flames, then turned and walked away. A quiet old highway like this? It could be hours before another car comes by. All the more time to get away from this place.
Bending over by the next tree, he threw aside a pile of branches to reveal an electric motorbike. Eyes lit up with joy, he wheeled it out onto the road. Here I come, new life!
Two brilliant lights blazed down on him. A truck barreled around the corner, blasting well over the speed limit. It crossed the lines to make the turn and flew at him. Tons upon tons bore down on him and his tiny motorbike. He stared up and saw the driver’s eyes, wide as dinner plates.
Oh shit—
--
“Xiao Hui! Xiao Hui! Wake up! Hurry, hurry! Today’s the day!”
He furrowed his brows and flailed, slowly blinking awake. “W…what? The day for…?”
His voice came out high and clear, the voice of a young boy. Startled, he clasped his hands over his mouth, only to find chubby cheeks awaiting his soft palms. He drew his hands back and stared at them. Instead of long, calloused fingers, fat palms and stubby little fingers greeted him.
He stared. I’m… a kid?
A woman smiled down at him. “Hurry! The cultivators won’t be here forever!”
Advertisement
Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. Xiao Hui? My name isn’t Xiao Hui, it’s… His brow furrowed. I… I can’t remember?
Images flashed through his head. His sad, lonely life. His father, beating him whenever he bothered to come home, on the rare days he wasn’t so drunk he fell over in the entryway. When his father finally died, only to be replaced by debt collectors hounding him for his father’s gambling losses. An empty adult life working twelve hours a day, multiple jobs, unpaid overtime, only to slog home and have his check stolen from his hands before he even passed the threshold. His only joy, webnovels, desperately read off a cracked smartphone in his few moments of free time.
He peered around him, taking his surroundings in. A wooden hut, a wooden floor. He laid on a thin blanket, and the ceiling closed off above him, not a single electric light to be seen. The only light spilled in through the windows, the early rays of dawn illuminating their hut.
He jumped up and raced out the door. No way.
“Where are you going so early? Xiao Hui! Hey, come back!”
Around him, men and women in traditional clothes wandered along the village path, carrying loads or tools to their daily jobs. Huts spread out from the main road, a few small shops putting up their signs for the day, readying to beckon in travelers.
He breathed in a deep breath and tasted fresh air, untainted by pollution. Birds and insects chirped around him, singing in the early morning.
Overhead, a trio of people on swords flew by, white robes rippling in the wind, hands clasped behind their backs. They circled high overhead and descended into the town square. As they descended, the town exploded into noise. Families jostled toward the cultivators, leading small children by the hands. They shouted and waved, eager to grab the cultivators' attention.
Hui’s eyes glittered. I really did cross over into another world.
Hello, new life!
Advertisement
Return of the Woodcutter
Aito Walker was a self-proclaimed martial artist, a criminal, a broken man, and a fishing slave who later became a woodcutter before dying due to his heavy consumption of alcohol.With thousands of other humans, he is forcefully revived into a boundless grey space by the gods of a foreign world, Iris, to take part in a never-ending war waged against Fearmongers. A race capable of corrupting living beings and inducing fear, even the bravest of warriors cannot resist—when the Fearmongers do not kill them, that is.To bait humans into this conflict, the gods offer the mortals powers in exchange of eternal servitude and the completion of trials before finally entering Iris.Even though Aito doesn’t agree with it, he sees in Iris a chance to atone for his past misdeeds, in this fantasy world of swords and magic filled with many races, where everything seems possible.He will pave his own path despite the gods he despises trying to manipulate him into doing their bidding.Aito will start with almost nothing but his wit, a peculiar system, and increased strength—much like other revived humans.Bearing a sin—he could not, cannot, and will not forget—haunting him to this day, Aito will strive to regain what little honor he has left.He will suffer and, at times, fail. Taking advantage of his weaknesses, the Fearmongers, demigods, gods, and many others will hinder his path.But a powerful yearning will keep him from falling apart. An ever-burning flame melting away the despair and welding back the broken pieces of courage.A single desire.«I will find redemption no matter the cost.»………Or not, hun, who knows? The book isn’t done yet. Haha—SLAP!«Who put this guy in the synopsis narration?! Get him out of here and launch the warnings! Now!»***WARNINGS:— The MC is human. If you’re looking for a perfect MC, you’ll only be wasting your time here. However, if you’re looking for an MC who will LEARN, GROW because of his flaws. An MC who will try his hardest to overcome adversity, then you’re in the right place.— No harems. However, it doesn’t mean the characters can’t fool around without having love interests. A relationship isn’t necessary for people to satisfy their physical desires.— You will find a few typos, grammatical and wording issues, that’s certain. I’ll do my best to bring you guys quality content and such issues will either be nonexistent or extremely few. However, one man can only do so much. If I get enough support, I’ll hire an EDITOR that will look at the chaps with a fresh eye. And POOF! Issues no more. Improved quality. Happier author and reader. Not sure if the editor will be happy tho.— The first three chapters are fast-paced as to quickly get into the nitty-gritty but slow down afterward to give the story the time it needs to progress accordingly.— The book can, never mind, it will contain «strong» language, gore and violence.— Comedy, as you know it (and if you don’t, now you know) is subjective. So you might not like the jokes.— If you truly read that until the end you have my virtual congratulations ‘cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have done that.
8 3235Bloom
Everything can grow. Everything can rise, and ascend. Even, a Tree.
8 169The Struggles of Dating a Demon [Completed]
Mabel's boss dabbled in awfully questionable business for the owner of an herb store, and she never blinked when he had suspicious-looking visitors. On one particular Sunday, though, Mabel couldn't help but watch the man leaving Herman's office with a critical eye. It wasn't his impressive height, dark eyes, or shaggy hair that kept her curiosity piqued.Instead, it was the way the shadows seemed to collect around him, dancing under his feet as he walked and vanishing abruptly as soon as the door shut behind him. *****"Do not call me 'Death,' Little One." He reached a hand down to help her up, but Mabel swatted it away, standing on her own and scowling. "Don't call me 'Little One,' Death." She fired back, crossing her arms and straightening her back to look taller. "And, besides, you're the one who told me your name was Death, so what else am I supposed to call you?" The raspy growl that rolled from his throat didn't sound anything like a chuckle, but the slight smile on his face told her otherwise. "Aleron." ******He brings death to those deemed wicked, but sees her as an angel and vows that nothing will harm her under his watch.Highest Ranks: #1 in Littleone 8/7/2019#1 in Mystical 8/25/20; 9/2/20; 9/11/20; 6/13/21#1 in Mythical 9/25/20#1 in Devil 5/16/21#1 in Heaven 5/20/21#4 in Paranormal 8/25/20#1 in demon 8/7/22
8 244Dark Poetry
War breaks out,Or so they shout.The odds of winningAre in doubt.We have no clueWhat the war is about,Yet we fight On and out.I'd like to get some stuff off of my chest.Some words I'd like to say.Some things I want to admit.All can be said here. STARTED: The second of January, 2018COMPLETED: The sixteenth of November, 2018HIGHEST: #2 in PoetryCover by Youtumblrgeek
8 437【Super Paper Dimentio: Swap AU】 (SPM AU)
"The pure hearts are close in our grasp.. Lets keep going to find the- ...Dimentio? Are you ok?""..."......Dimentio finds himself needing to find the Pure Hearts to stop Count Timpani and her team from destroying the worlds and remaking them to their own world, but will he be able to do it with Blumiere- the Pixl of who he is by his side?(SUPER PAPER MARIO™ belongs to Entertainment System and Nintendo! I DO NOT own the characters, the Paper Mario series itself, and the game AT ALL.)
8 119twitter / jikook
"i'll block you""I'll kiss you"
8 66