OFFICIAL EVENT MISC July 2018: Husks

Discussion in 'EVENTS' started by Kitti, Jul 1, 2018.

  1. MISC: Monthly Iwaku Story Challenge
    July 2018

    DISCLAIMER: This is NOT the Miscellaneous Iwaku Storytelling Contest. We kept the cool name, changed the game!


    Each month on Iwaku, we will post an official writing prompt. This is just a fun challenge to inspire ideas and allow our users to stretch their creative writing muscles! Short stories, poems, and even roleplay posts are allowed as submissions. To participate, all you have to do is post your submission in this thread.

    All users are also encouraged to give feedback on posted replies to the challenge and discuss ideas!

    This month's prompt is


    Husks

    [​IMG]
    Chinatown, Daniel Liang


    You can hear the hum of the city as you close your eyes and reminisce about the good old days, back in 2200 when life was simple.
     
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  2. One Among Millions
    The cat purred, rubbing its scruffy little head against the man’s calloused hand as it vied for his attention. He gave only half a mind, his eyes closed as he focused on the digital world only he could see. Voices spoke in his ear, communicating through the implant that everyone had given an arm and a leg to have only a few years before. As could be expected, the world news was anything but good.

    “Terrorists have attacked Sunset City…rescue team efforts have so far failed due to the instability of the infrastructure.”

    “Millions have died in the most recent attack from the terrorist group known as Fringe.”

    “We must take action! We need to drive these techies off this godforsaken rock, or we’ll all be choking on our own blood! There are no innocents in that city; we must burn them all!”

    The last message was from the terrorists themselves. The recording had been played over and over in the last few days, as if no one could get tired of hearing the raspy female voice that called for such unspeakable actions against so-called “techies” – those who lived and thrived off the use of technology.

    The man sighed, opening his eyes. The digital world disappeared, and the real world came into focus around him. Dying flames engulfed the city around him, and the air was tainted with the stench of death. He glanced at the mangy cat, wondering how on earth such a creature had managed to survive so long in this hell. It was such a little thing, half-starved and probably blind by the look of its eyes.

    “We’re both going to die here, aren’t we?” the man whispered, picking up the cat and ignoring its protests. The cat eventually found itself quite comfortable in the man’s lap, purring itself away into a stupor. The man smiled just slightly, wondering if this was a final gift from the heavens before he finally passed on. The simple joys of life, no?

    Taking a slight breath, he began to sing a song from his childhood, closing his eyes and reminiscing about the world as it used to be before technology seemed to take over every thought and action. Before his father died and his mother became obsessed with her work. His mother—the woman responsible for all this destruction. The woman who turned people into mindless consumers rather than independent thinkers. In a way, the man understood the mindset of the Fringe, for he had witnessed the dangers of his own mother’s technology firsthand.

    “Back in 2200, life was simple…”

    A strange line for the song, given that no one alive had been around during that time. It was nearly the turn of the next millennium—the year 3000. The whole damn world had gone to shit since 2200, that was for sure. And the man’s own family was to blame. Damn it all.

    Quite suddenly, the cat leaped from his lap, running down the street and into the night. Once again, the man was alone. For a brief moment, he thought he might not have to see his final moments by himself, but the universe was not so merciful. He sighed, leaning his head back against the overturned hovercar behind him.

    The pain in his side suddenly returned, forcing a strangled cry from the man’s lips. He gasped, sweat beading down his forehead. The effects of the sedatives had worn off then; he wouldn’t even be granted a painless death. The man glanced down, grimacing at the festering infection. A few days ago, he thought he’d survived this whole damn experience with only a flesh wound. Now, it glimmered with soiled blood, his surrounding skin inflamed with sepsis. He shivered, chills overtaking him despite the stifling heat of the flaming city.

    The man’s heart raced, panic overtaking his senses. He didn’t want to die. Not here, not like this. Not in the middle of a godforsaken city where no one would even remember his name. They would remember his mother; they would remember her as either an angel or the devil. But he was doomed to be forgotten, tossed aside at death just like he was at birth. Damn it all.

    And then he felt calm. Overwhelmingly calm. The loud noises of the decimated city faded away, as if he were truly alone in the world. His eyes grew heavy; his heart slowed. Ba-bump, ba-bump…ba-bump…ba-bump……ba-bump……

    ………………
     
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  3. I dedicate this one to @Pahn . Don't fucking die.
    What do you mean this is not PIPS? D:


    Reset


    Tick, tock, my redemption goes.
    Tick, tock, my heart echos.
    Tick, tock.
    The world burns slow.

    I loved it, my city.
    Heart of men. Loving, tolerant. Fearless.
    Bastion of the brightest souls. Radiant, celestial. Paradise.
    We wanted to change, to be better, to reach for the sky.
    But the devil hides in greed,
    change was madness.
    We never had a clue.

    I loathe it, my city.
    It's screaming in my head. Buried, forgotten. Hopeless.
    A titan drowned it. Steel, fire.
    Progress.
    The people are dead. Quartered, herded. Enslaved.
    Innocents traded their ways into hells of soulless apparatuses.
    What else can I do?

    Some days I wish it wasn't my city to save.

    Nostalgia is my alluring demon,
    "Do it! Do it! For old time's sake."
    I would.
    Cowardice is my benevolent angel,
    "Peace. Stability. Status quo. This is the world we made."
    I fear.

    Tick, tock, time whispers.

    I pity it, my city.
    It fed me life, and I fed it my hatred.
    Seems less than fair, doesn't it?

    Tick, tock, my heart thunders.

    The sky is crying again, cloudless.
    Its tears on my cheek.
    It felt my farewell, my fantastic final send-off.
    What a story it'll get to tell.

    A big red button, the classic, for the good old time.
    My finger ached for release, and I let it go.

    Heat. Fire. Scorching.
    Cleansing. Liberating.

    There goes my city.
    Unto light, unto madness.
    When did progress become inhumanity?
    When did humanity become avarice?
    When did I become so callous as to put my peace of mind above human lives?

    There goes my city.
    Into the past, without me.

    Some days I wish it wasn't mine to unmake.
     
    #3 Jays, Jul 6, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 6, 2018
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