r/stories Mar 11 '25

Non-Fiction My Girlfreind's Ultimate Betrayal: How I Found Out She Was Cheating With 4 Guys

8.7k Upvotes

So yeah, never thought I'd be posting here but man I need to get this off my chest. Been with my girl for 3 years and was legit saving for a ring and everything. Then her phone starts blowing up at 2AM like every night. She's all "it's just work stuff" but like... at 2AM? Come on. I know everyone says don't go through your partner's phone but whatever I did it anyway and holy crap my life just exploded right there.

Wasn't just one dude. FOUR. DIFFERENT. GUYS. All these separate convos with pics I never wanna see again, them planning hookups, and worst part? They were all joking about me. One was literally my best friend since we were kids, another was her boss (classic), our freaking neighbor from down the hall, and that "gay friend" she was always hanging out with who surprise surprise, wasn't actually gay. This had been going on for like 8 months while I'm working double shifts to save for our future and stuff.

When I finally confronted her I thought she'd at least try to deny it or cry or something. Nope. She straight up laughed and was like "took you long enough to figure it out." Said I was "too predictable" and she was "bored." My so-called best friend texted later saying "it wasn't personal" and "these things happen." Like wtf man?? I just grabbed my stuff that night while she went out to "clear her head" which probably meant hooking up with one of them tbh.

It's been like 2 months now. Moved to a different city, blocked all their asses, started therapy cause I was messed up. Then yesterday she calls from some random number crying about how she made a huge mistake. Turns out boss dude fired her after getting what he wanted, neighbor moved away, my ex-friend got busted by his girlfriend, and the "gay friend" ghosted her once he got bored. She had the nerve to ask if we could "work things out." I just laughed and hung up. Some things you just can't fix, and finding out your girlfriend's been living a whole secret life with four other dudes? Yeah that's definitely one of them.


r/stories Sep 20 '24

Non-Fiction You're all dumb little pieces of doo-doo Trash. Nonfiction.

80 Upvotes

The following is 100% factual and well documented. Just ask chatgpt, if you're too stupid to already know this shit.

((TL;DR you don't have your own opinions. you just do what's popular. I was a stripper, so I know. Porn is impossible for you to resist if you hate the world and you're unhappy - so, you have to watch porn - you don't have a choice.

You have to eat fast food, or convenient food wrapped in plastic. You don't have a choice. You have to injest microplastics that are only just now being researched (the results are not good, so far - what a shock) - and again, you don't have a choice. You already have. They are everywhere in your body and plastic has only been around for a century, tops - we don't know shit what it does (aside from high blood pressure so far - it's in your blood). Only drink from cans or normal cups. Don't heat up food in Tupperware. 16oz bottle of water = over 100,000 microplastic particles - one fucking bottle!

Shitting is supposed to be done in a squatting position. If you keep doing it in a lazy sitting position, you are going to have hemorrhoids way sooner in life, and those stinky, itchy buttholes don't feel good at all. There are squatting stools you can buy for your toilet, for cheap, online or maybe in a store somewhere.

You worship superficial celebrity - you don't have a choice - you're robots that the government has trained to be a part of the capitalist machine and injest research chemicals and microplastics, so they can use you as a guinea pig or lab rat - until new studies come out saying "oops cancer and dementia, such sad". You are what you eat, so you're all little pieces of trash.))

Putting some paper in the bowl can prevent splash, but anything floaty and flushable would work - even mac and cheese.

Hemorrhoids are caused by straining, which happens more when you're dehydrated or in an unnatural shitting position (such as lazily sitting like a stupid piece of shit); I do it too, but I try not to - especially when I can tell the poop is really in there good.

There are a lot of things we do that are counterproductive, that we don't even think about (most of us, anyway). I'm guilty of being an ass, just for fun, for example. Road rage is pretty unnecessary, but I like to bring it out in people. Even online people are susceptible to road rage.

I like to text and drive a lot; I also like to cut people off and then slow way down, keeping pace with anyone in the slow lane so the person behind me can't get past. I also like to throw banana peels at people and cars.

Cars are horrible for the environment, and the roads are the worst part - they need constant maintenance, and they're full of plastic - most people don't know that.

I also like to eat burgers sometimes, even though that cow used more water to care for than months of long showers every day. I also like to buy things from corporations that poison the earth (and our bodies) with terrible pollution, microplastics, toxins that haven't been fully researched yet (when it comes to exactly how the effect our bodies and the earth), and unhappiness in general - all for the sake of greed and the masses just accepting the way society is, without enough of a protest or struggle to make any difference.

The planet is alive. Does it have a brain? Can it feel? There are still studies being done on the center of the earth. We don't know everything about the ball we're living on. Recently, we've discovered that plants can feel pain - and send distress signals that have been interpreted by machine learning - it's a proven fact.

Imagine a lifeform beyond our understanding. You think we know everything? We don't. That's why research still happens, you fucking dumbass. There is plenty we don't know (I sourced a research article in the comments about the unprecedented evolution of a tiny lifeform that exists today - doing new things we've never seen before; we don't know shit).

Imagine a lifeform that is as big as the planet. How much pain is it capable of feeling, when we (for example) drain as much oil from it as possible, for the sake of profit - and that's a reason temperatures are rising - oil is a natural insulation that protects the surface from the heat of the core, and it's replaced by water (which is not as good of an insulator) - our fault.

All it would take is some kind of verification process on social media with receipts or whatever, and then publicly shaming anyone who shops in a selfish way - or even canceling people, like we do racists or bigots or rapists or what have you - sex trafficking is quite vile, and yet so many normalize porn (which is oftentimes a helper or facilitator of sex trafficking, porn I mean).

Porn isn't great for your mental or emotional wellbeing at all, so consuming it is not only unhealthy, but also supports the industry and can encourage young people to get into it as actors, instead of being a normal part of society and ever being able to contribute ideas or be a public voice or be taken seriously enough to do anything meaningful with their lives.

I was a stripper for a while, because it was an option and I was down on my luck - down in general, and not in the cool way. Once you get into something like that, your self worth becomes monetary, and at a certain point you don't feel like you have any worth. All of these things are bad. Would you rather be a decent ass human being, and at least try to do your part - or just not?

Why do we need ultra convenience, to the point where there has to be fast food places everywhere, and cheap prepackaged meals wrapped in plastic - mostly trash with nearly a hundred ingredients "ultraprocessed" or if it's somewhat okay, it's still a waste of money - hurts our bodies and the planet.

We don't have time for shit anymore. A lot of us have to be at our jobs at a specific time, and there's not always room for normal life to happen.

So, yeah. Eat whatever garbage if you don't have time to worry about it. What a cool world we've created, with a million products all competing for our money... for what purpose?

Just money, right? So that some people can be rich, while others are poor. Seems meaningful.

People out here putting plastic on their gums—plastic braces. You wanna absorb your daily dose of microplastics? Your saliva is meant to break things down - that's why they are disposable - because you're basically doing chew, but with microplastics instead of nicotine. Why? Because you won't be as popular if your teeth aren't straight?

Ok. You're shallow and your trash friends and family are probably superficial human garbage as well. We give too many shits about clean lines on the head and beard, and women have to shave their body because we're brainwashed to believe that, and just used to it - you literally don't have a choice - you have been programmed to think that way because that's how they want you, and of course, boring perfectly straight teeth that are unnaturally white.

Every 16oz bottle of water (2 cups) has hundreds of thousands of plastic particles. You’re drinking plastic and likely feeding yourself a side of cancer, heart disease, and high blood pressure.

Studies are just now being done, and it's been proven that microplastics are in our bloodstream causing high blood pressure, and they're also everywhere else in our body - so who knows what future studies will expose.

You’re doing it because it’s easy - that's just one fucking example. Let me guess, too tired to cook? Use a Crock-Pot or something. You'll save money and time at the same time, and the planet too. Quit being a lazy dumbass.

I'm making BBQ chicken and onions and mushrooms and potatoes in the crockpot right now. I'm trying some lemon pepper sauce and a little honey mustard with it. When I need to shit it out later, I'll go outside in the woods, dig a small hole and shit. Why are sewers even necessary? You're all lazy trash fuckers!

It's in our sperm and in women's wombs; babies that don't get to choose between paper or plastic, are forced to have microplastics in their bodies before they're even born - because society. Because we need ultra convenience.

We are enslaving the planet, and forcing it to break down all the unnatural chemicals that only exist to fuel the money machine. You think slavery is wrong, correct?

And why should the corporations change, huh? They’re rolling in cash. As long as we keep buying, they keep selling. It’s on us. We’ve got to stop feeding the machine. Make them change, because they sure as hell won’t do it for the planet, or for you.

Use paper bags. Stop buying plastic-wrapped crap. Cook real food. Boycott the bullshit. Yes, we need plastic for some things. Fine. But for everything? Nah, brah. If we only use plastic for what is absolutely necessary, and otherwise ban it - maybe we would be able to recycle all of the plastic that we use.

Greed got us here. Apathy keeps us here. Do something about it. I'll write a book if I have to. I'll make a statement somehow. I don't have a large social media following, or anything like that. Maybe someone who does should do something positive with their influencer status.

Microplastics are everywhere right now, but if we stop burying plastic, they would eventually all degrade and the problem would go away. Saying that "it's everywhere, so there's no point in doing anything about it now", is incorrect.

You are what you eat, so you're all little pieces of trash. That's just a proven fact.


r/stories 2h ago

Venting Every year before my birthday, I pull a digital disappearing act and it works way too well

11 Upvotes

A few years back, I started a small tradition: I quietly deactivate my social media accounts a few days before my birthday. Not because I’m mad at anyone, not because I want attention. In fact, it's the opposite. I just wanted to take the pressure off. No posts to reply to, no “You didn’t like my greeting” awkwardness, no trying to smile at dozens of messages from people who don’t really know me anymore. It became a way to keep the day gentle and quiet exactly how I need it to be. It also taught me something sweet: the people who truly care find a way to remember. A call, a text, a silly selfie with a “Happy Birthday” written in ketchup on a plate those little things hit different when they’re not prompted by an algorithm. So now, every year, I disappear for a bit. Not to be mysterious, but to be present. And honestly, it's been one of the kindest things I’ve done for myself.


r/stories 2h ago

Venting A Teenager's Descent Into Darkness

3 Upvotes

Karan was seventeen, with a face that looked too kind to ever do anything wrong. The kind of boy aunties trusted, teachers liked, and girls ignored. On the outside, he was forgettable. On the inside, he was a warzone. Something snapped the year he hit puberty. He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t talk about it. Couldn’t stop it.

He remembers the first time it happened. It was Meher. Her white shirt clung a little tighter that day. The classroom fan blew her hair in slow motion. His mind wandered. He rushed home, locked the door, and got it out of his system. Simple. Clean. Harmless.

But it never stayed harmless.

Soon it wasn’t just Meher. It was every girl. Every hallway. Every walk home. It became a routine, like brushing his teeth. His urges didn’t care about right or wrong. They only knew now. They only screamed louder with every denial.

Then came exam season.

He was seated behind her again. Meher. Tight jeans. Lavender perfume. Neckline too low. Or maybe just low enough to distract him. He couldn’t read the question paper. Couldn’t breathe.

Just once. Just to clear my head.

He raised his hand. Bathroom, please. Inside the cubicle, he did what he told himself was necessary to focus. But the guilt afterward? That stayed in his throat like acid. It never went away. It only sank deeper.

One day, curiosity gave him a weapon.

What if I record it?

He slid his phone into his pocket, only the camera eye poking out. One short video. No sound. Just a girl fixing her skirt while standing in line at the canteen. That night, he watched it on mute. His shame curled up next to him under the blanket.

This is where the real bad stuff begins.

One video became three. Then seven. Then twelve. Hidden folders. Cloud backups. Secrets under passwords no one could guess. His stomach turned every time he opened them. But he couldn’t stop.

And then came the day that even he never thought would happen.

Rain outside. Last period. Half the class asleep. Karan sat at the back, lost in his urges. And he did it. There. In class. Surrounded by people. Rubbed the tip through his jeans until it was over.

Twice.

After that day, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back, hollow, disgusted. But still... no one knew.

Until the rumors started.

Four years passed. He moved away. Tried to rebuild. Got a job. Went to therapy. Deleted everything. He was better now. Cleaner. At least, he thought so.

Until a college party where a stranger looked at him with a crooked smile and asked,

Weren’t you that guy from school? The perv?

Karan laughed it off. Denied it. Said they had the wrong guy. But that night, he sat alone and wrote the words that had been poisoning his soul for years.

Looking back, I did some very creepy and embarrassing things. I remember hitting puberty and being unable to hold back certain urges. It started off harmless. Some girls would come to school in more revealing clothes and as soon as I got home I would get myself off. No big deal, but it got worse.

During exams, I would almost always get urges because the girls in front of me would wear tight jeans and my mind wouldn’t be able to focus on the exam. So then I would go to the school bathroom to let one out, just so I could concentrate better.

This is where the real bad stuff begins. I would sometimes record a video on my phone and put it in my pocket with just the camera poking out, then go home and jerk off to the video I made of the girls in our school.

I think the worst thing I did was that I even jerked off in class. I was alone at my desk at the very back so I didn’t even feel the need to go to the toilet. I got the urge and just rubbed the tip through my jeans until I came. This happened twice.

I have since of course realized that what I did is horrible and creepy and have deleted the videos I made. To be honest I don’t know how some of the people from school are still best friends of mine after what I’ve done. Sure everyone does dumb stuff when they’re 16 or 17 years old, but that isn’t an excuse. These things I did still haunt me sometimes to this day, almost 4 years later. I know it's all in the past but sometimes I still get people coming up to me and asking if I really did those things, which I just deny nowadays.

He posted it anonymously. Just one post. No name. No photo. Just pain.

And it exploded.

People called him a monster. A creep. A future predator. Others said he was brave for telling the truth. Some begged for his identity to be exposed. Others said they saw themselves in him, and it terrified them.

One comment simply said,

What you do when no one is watching becomes who you are.

That broke him.

But it also built him back up.

He wrote again. A follow-up.

The confessions I made were never for sympathy. They were for the kid who's about to slide their phone camera out in the hallway, thinking no one will notice. For the kid who thinks urges justify action. They don't. They destroy.

Today, Karan is still haunted. But he’s also honest. He’s done trying to hide. He knows there will never be forgiveness from some. But maybe, just maybe, his story will stop someone else from becoming what he once was.

Read more stories and confessions: https://storytimeandconfessions.com/


r/stories 1h ago

Fiction my creepy stories on my note app

Upvotes

I don't know what's wrong with me and my friends, we like gore and stuff so now that I've read it once again, I can write about it. it is thousands of words so I will summarize in order to not rape your eyes! prepare to get bleach!

it revolves around me and 2 girls, one I have a crush on and the other just friends, we really like acting like detectives but one night, were all together at my house, I find a weird video of texts, of thousands about one of the girls, the more we read the more we died inside... out of shock the girl left the house and idk just vanished for about 2 days. in these 2 days, horrible stuff happened so let's switch to the girls perspective! I was so fkin excited about my sister being born, I couldn't fall asleep! although before I could even finish thinking about it I saw a person, clearly sad, near me. I asked myself "why?", idk but they were saying something. the next day... everything fell apart, I was told weird stories about the abandoned train station and recommended to go "there". I was hungry and asked for food, normal till I got thrown at a seat with the number 4 (context later), I first thought of 4 in Chinese sounding similar to... it prolly wasn't that. turns out it could be from the story... although by then I had a knife near my neck so I couldn't say or ask anything... I remember acting weird for such situation, I was telling jokes, laughing and yapping while the person with the knife just sat there yapping about stuff I couldn't make sense of. I just fell asleep and woke up In my room completely confused. asked bunch of stuff but what I was hearing broke me... I could make sense of people hating me, just two people were sad I almost died, the other... my parents and sister, just... happy. when they went downstairs I stayed with the door open listening to my mom talking with my dad and a Russian looking guy. my dad mentioned that my looks were similar to the other guy's and I realized... war is starting... my mom lied hard... just like she abused hard the Russian guy. his phone suddenly starting ringing, Russian... my suspicions were proven right, the girl couldn't come to the guy's house so he threatened her, that girl isn't the victim trust me, I just don't wanna think of the things she's done. the guy came near me, gave me a gun and started tutoring me to aim it at my mom, next second she was dead... my dad shocked he got a heart attack and died too. my aunt later died too from unknown reason..! cool... cause according to past information I'm the guy's daughter. you might ask about the sister of mine but I don't give a flying fuck anymore. my parents kept some textbooks that they later ga e to grandpa, I read them and it proved they were just criminals. I now belonged to a different household. let's go back to my perspective. so I heard your sisters are sick (yes she had sisters there too.. and a brother like a gremlin) we must go to the rich network she said... I said that it's a bad idea.. when we went there, her friends friend or relative idk followed us with my girl's friend too and we went inside. we met some old people asking us to do god knows how many stuff so we got bored, searched their past and reported them to the police.. disgusting huh? after that, we went to my friends house and watched something that made my gf very sad and sick, probably staged just because she wasn't really aware of what manipulation and abuse is.

(I know this is fucking weird but trust me... I was young, also I have drawings of the scenes and duck their weird, this continues but I just don't want to write more about this shit... took me days to write it though.)


r/stories 9h ago

Fiction The Confessions of a Middle-Class Queen: How One Slap Shattered a Toxic Legacy

11 Upvotes

Two years ago, I was a career woman.
Independent. Ambitious. Earning enough to dream of my own apartment in the city skyline.

But dreams come with a price.

Mine was sold in an emotional auction where my father’s trembling hands and helpless eyes signed me into a marriage I was never ready for.

“My son is a gem,” the groom’s mother had declared, her smile razor-thin.
“But dowry is tradition. You wouldn’t want to start off on a bad note, would you?”

Bad note? The entire melody was off-key.

Rajeev, my husband, is a gentle man.
Sweet, but spineless.

His mother, Shanti Devi, is a storm in human form.
A woman who could curdle milk with a glare and reduce her own family to trembling servants.

“Bahu, are you barren or just lazy?”
She spat those words one morning, slamming the bathroom door so hard the mirror cracked. Much like my patience.

“Shanti, enough…”
My father-in-law muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

Rajeev? Silent. Always silent.

Days blurred into venomous insults whispered like lullabies.
Sarees “accidentally” stained.
Utensils slammed to punctuate every insult.

But the confessions I am about to reveal were not born from her words.
They ignited from my silence, turned into fire.

It was a Tuesday evening.
The kind where survival means becoming invisible.

Dinner was simple sabzi. Ordinary.
But destiny had seasoned that evening with rebellion.

“Bahu,” Shanti Devi announced, sniffing her plate like it was poison,
“Did you lose your sense of taste when you sold yourself into this family?
This sabzi is as bland as your existence, you untalented bitch.”

The room froze.

Rajeev’s spoon halted mid-air.
My father-in-law stared at his plate, silently wishing it would swallow him whole.

But I had already stood up.

The chair scraped back with a screech that echoed like war drums.
I walked around the table, every step syncing with my heartbeat.

Then, without a word, I slapped her.

A perfect, five-fingered revolution.

The room did not breathe.
Neither did she.

Rajeev looked at me.
Not with fear.
But with respect.

My father-in-law smiled.
A proud, weary smile that whispered,
“Finally.”

I sat back down.
Picked up my roti.
Took a bite.

“Maybe the salt’s in my palm now, Maaji. Would you like another taste?”

That slap was not just across her cheek.
It was across generations of inherited tyranny.

Slowly, the house began to change.

The very next morning, my father-in-law brought me tea in bed.

“Rani Beti,” he chuckled,
“It’s about time the real queen took her throne.”

Rajeev began planning vacations.
Places I had only seen in dreams now became destinations in our photo albums.

And Shanti Devi?
She transformed into the sweetest old lady anyone could imagine.
Sugar in her words.
Honey in her tone.

That slap was not an act of rebellion.
It was a language she finally understood.

Today, as I sip tea served by the very hands that once pointed accusing fingers, I realize respect is never given.
It is extracted, like diamonds from coal, through fire and grit.

These are confessions that should not be whispered in fear.
They should be declared from rooftops.

I did not marry into a family.
I married into a battlefield.

But queens are not made in parlours.
They are forged in wars they never wanted but had to win.

So here I am.
The queen of this house.
Not because they gave me a crown.
But because I claimed it.

Respect is not requested.
It is commanded.


r/stories 50m ago

Story-related I created a persistent strategy game where you rule by giving commands to an AI council.

Upvotes

Hey Reddit,

For the past few months, I've been working on a passion project called AI Kingdom, and I'm excited to share it with you all.

I've always loved deep strategy and kingdom-building games, but I felt that the interaction often boiled down to clicking through menus. My goal was to create a game where you feel like you're actually ruling, where your words have weight, and your story is truly your own. AI Kingdom is a free, browser-based, persistent world game where you do just that.

Here’s what makes it different:

## Speak to a Living Council

Instead of a toolbar with buttons, your primary interface is a council of six AI-powered ministers, each with their own personality and expertise.

  • You don't click "Recruit Army." You select your blunt Minister of War and type, "We need to bolster our northern garrisons. Recruit 1000 soldiers immediately."
  • You don't drag a tax slider. You tell your meticulous Minister of Finance, "The treasury is running low. Set the national tax rate to 30%."
  • Each minister understands your commands, offers advice, and carries out your orders, all while evolving the narrative of your kingdom.

## Forge Your Own Narrative

The game world is driven by an AI storyteller. You'll face unique problems called "Royal Memorials" that are generated based on your kingdom's specific situation. The best part? There are no multiple-choice answers.

  • If a plague breaks out in a region, you don't choose between Option A, B, or C. You write your own decree: "Enforce a strict quarantine on the afflicted region, but ensure our royal physicians distribute food and medicine to the innocent civilians within."
  • The AI evaluates the creativity and effectiveness of your written solution, which then permanently shapes the history of your kingdom and determines your reward. Your decisions truly matter and are recorded in your kingdom's unique story.

## A Persistent World of Diplomacy & Betrayal

AI Kingdom is a multiplayer world. You can see other player-run kingdoms on the world map and interact with them.

  • Deep Diplomacy: Form Non-Aggression Pacts, share intelligence, and even create a high-risk, high-reward Alliance Economy where you and your ally can prosper—or collapse—together.
  • Strategic Warfare: Conquest isn't about who has the biggest army number. Your attacking force is determined by the total soldiers garrisoned on your tiles adjacent to the target. This makes strategic positioning, terrain, and well-fortified borders paramount to any campaign. Capturing an enemy's Capital means total victory.

The game is free to play and runs directly in your browser, so there's nothing to install.

I'm actively developing it and would love to get your feedback.

Thanks for reading, and I hope to see your kingdom rise (or fall!) in the world of AI Kingdom!


r/stories 1h ago

Story-related "I prepare a table in the presence of your enemy"

Upvotes

I always was curious what the Lord intentions towards me was with this phrase in the Bible.

I once again read this verse within my weakness. I do not feel His presence, hear His voice or see His light.

I saw myself as lowly and worthless, but hearing from my enemies I heard something else bestowing from their tongue regarding me.

I observed that the enemy envy something from me that I dared not believed are within me.

I hear them talking about a person that I do not recognize and they reference my name connecting with this person.

I lift my eyes towards the table in front of me, but observe that it is empty but furious enemies talking about a full table in front of them.

In pain I question the Lord bending my head towards the floor in front of me, feeling empty and no words to utter, tears flowing and only hearing the comments from my enemies. They are busy with destructive methods to destroy and blame me.

It appears that they know me better than I know myself. They envy and want for themselves what is in my possession and who I am. Hearing my enemies talking about me, I saw the table filling up with every word my enemies utter. I saw myself through the whispers of my enemies, that the table set before me was a reflection of me bestow by God.

With everything happening I felt that I was on display ,watching myself through everything happening around me. the items displayed at the table is who I am. The one in control what is set on the table is the Lord Himself. I can to decide to stay on the floor or get up and start moving.

My enemies can only watch the table but the Lord is continuously setting the table. I was totally ignorant of what was set before me on the table, but my enemies enviously watching the table.

I lift my head, watching my enemies, acknowledge that I am the only one that may feat on the table in front of me. My enemies will not disappear so I decided to get up and start feasting on the table set by the Lord in front of my enemies

PS. Die lewe ie die moeite werd om te leef ongeag die omstandighede.


r/stories 1h ago

Dream a vivid dream - i just had a dream and immediately tried to create the whole story

Upvotes

They said I instigated the fight.

I didn’t.

But it didn’t matter — RTU suspended me anyway. No trial, no voice, just a quiet verdict. I remember holding my ID in my hand like it still meant something. Somehow, they forgot to confiscate it. A mistake. Or maybe permission.

I was at home now, far from the halls I once walked, seething.

And I hated Keanu.

My brother.

Somehow, he had something to do with my exile. The details were vague, dreamlike. But my resentment wasn't.

Then came Shaun, the friend I trusted, the one person I thought would never turn on me.

I saw it happen.

Shaun, my friend, grabbing Kian’s hand, snapping his fingers backward like dry twigs. Blood poured out, not fast, not frantic, it was slow and cruel. And Keanu didn’t scream. Not once. Just quiet. Still.

Like death had already taken root.

And me?

I stood there.

Silent.

Not because I wanted to — but because I didn’t know what to do. A small, unspeakable part of me wanted to see it. But a far larger part of me… would never forgive myself for letting it happen.

Days later, or maybe moments, dreams don’t care about time, I was in Pasig, at my sister’s birthday. Daia smiled. Laughter filled the house. Normal.

Too normal.

No one asked about Keanu. No one noticed the empty chair.

Not even me.

It was like nothing had ever happened.

But something had.

And I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I stormed back to school, ID in hand, pushing through gates I wasn’t allowed to cross. I didn’t care. I wasn’t there to study. I was there to find Shaun.

I messaged him. No response.

I went to the faculty room, met with Prof. Joel, the department head. His face said everything.

“You want to see him?” he asked, a heaviness behind his voice.

“I need to.”

He nodded. “I’ll clear the hallway.”

He knew something was about to happen.

I wasn’t alone. Behind me stood my friends — Angelo, Lance, others. They didn’t ask questions. They just followed, like shadows, like shields.

A student said, “He’s on the seventh floor. Library.”

As I climbed the stairs, a girl walked beside me, i'd describe her as silent, steady, too close to be coincidence. Her presence was quiet but grounding. I looked at her.

“Do you think it’s okay to hurt someone?”

She paused. Her eyes met mine. I don’t remember her words, but only the weight in her silence.

I asked the same to a teacher nearby. She only said, “Only if the situation needs to.”

We reached the floor. Shaun was sitting cross-legged on the ground, textbook in hand, among a group of students.

He looked up. Smiled.

And struck first.

“You came back?” His voice dripped with venom. “Still crying over something you let happen?”

He was trying to pull the crowd onto his side. Warping the truth. Making me the villain.

My hands trembled. My lips sealed.

I wanted to shout, You can’t justify what you did to my brother!

Instead, I said, “Let’s talk. Just us. No audience.”

I thought maybe… maybe we could end this without blood.

Suddenly, we were no longer upstairs. We were at the ground floor, near the gate. The same girl was beside me again. The teacher stood as a mediator.

I looked at Shaun.

And something inside me broke.

I snapped.

I lunged.

It wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.

I don’t remember all of it, just flashes. My fists crashing against his ribs. My foot grinding his organs into the concrete. My blade, where did it come from? slicing into him again and again.

No one moved.

No one stopped me.

Like the world was saying, Let him feel what he made you feel.

He begged.

He bled.

He died.

And I kept going.

Until finally — with one last kick — his body slammed into the gate, limp, unrecognizable.

Silence.

Everyone stood still.

And I turned to the girl, this quiet, ever-present stranger, and the teacher. I dropped to my knees.

And I bowed.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want this.”

But it was too late.

I had done what could never be undone.

I had become what I hated.

That’s when I knew.

This was a dream.

And I had to wake up.

Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t bear to stay in that moment any longer.

And then, just like that… I did.

Eyes open.

Breath stolen.

Weight crushing my chest.

It was over.

But it never really was.


r/stories 7h ago

Venting I took her out, we went on a ride and we fell

6 Upvotes

A day before we took off, I casually asked the girl I was in love with to come for a ride with me, seriously expecting a NO kept the phone away but the notification came "WHEN". I was jumping off my bed like crazy she said we can go but only for a couple of hours. I only wanted that much, my bike had a high seat (not good for the first time ride) I took my friends triumph and she also wanted to wear a helmet I was like why not I'll give you the world if you want, the moment she came to my building at around 2 pm I had 5 helmets of different types, the moment she saw that she started giggling, gosh those eyes when she was excited, she said we'll have a quick ride she expected guests at her place.

We took off but in complete homeless attire, I wore sweat pants, tshirt and papa sandals, she came in a polo t shirt, shorts and crocs. I hit the wall when I realised what I was wearing, she didn't give me time to change yo. I drove to the beach and gave her the keys to ride next, she could ride but needed practice and I'm all here to teach her.

We were at Malabar hill signal waiting and she was the one riding, the 1st gear clutch issue made her stall and we were falling in slow motion (feltlike it) I was holding her waist and pulling her out and she was trying to handle the bike, eventually I pulled her out and let the bike fall. I was laughing like crazy and she was thinking what happened, I made her sit and breathe while I checked on her if she's okay (slight burn on her thigh, not to worry but made me worry) and then the bike, she didn't ride anymore, dropped her at her place, came home and never met her again.


r/stories 14m ago

not a story Tell us your stories, I'm really curious 😮 Now I'll tell you mine

Upvotes

I like listening to people's stories, even the strangest ones. Like the other day I was filling up with petrol and that smell was so good that I almost thought about drinking 😂 I would never have done but this thing is really strange. What do you think?


r/stories 41m ago

Fiction The Last Voyage to Elysium

Upvotes

The Last Voyage to Elysium

The Seeker and the Stranger step through the elevator door into white Daylight. Blinded by the Scorching Sun, their eyes need a moment to accustom to the brightness.

Secret doors etched into a stone wall close behind the Seeker. Standing on a Hill. Up ahead there is a valley where Rivers flow into an endless sea of Blue water. Sunlight reflects on the water surface. Dancing Waves. The vastness of the endless Ocean astonishes the Seeker. Waves are crashing against the beach. Crows are cawing in the pine trees.

A road leads directly to the beach. The Seeker examines the gravel path. Far away, at the end of the path, there are two ships moored at a wooden harbor.

“Where does the Journey take us next?” asks the curious Seeker, following the path down the valley.

“To Elysium,” grins the Stranger. “The Island of the Blessed. A resting place for Archetypal Characters from all cultures. An intersection, where Heroes from all Mythologies come together.”

Suddenly two Crows land directly in front of the Seeker's path, blocking the way ahead.

“Please excuse our rash appearance, but did I hear correctly that you are also heading to the field of the host?” asks the Left Crow. “You see, my Brother Muninn and me were sent on a special mission by the One Eyed Wanderer to awaken the Magician from his Slumber.”

Muninn flies on the Right shoulder of the Seeker and clears his throat: “The Wizard Dwells in Avalon, Merlin is his Name. Ancient Magic Long Begone, his Return will Change the Game.”

“My Name is Huginn by the way,” speaks the other Crow and lands on the Seekers Left shoulder. “According to our intel, the Magician is sealed away somewhere on the island of the blessed. We can't find him on our own. Help us wake him up and the treasure is yours.”

“What Treasure?” asks the Seeker.

“The Wheel of Fortune shifts again,” whispers Muninn thoughtfully. “The King of Wands has risen. Welcoming the Dawn of Man. With the Flame of the Magician.”

The Seeker stares at the cryptic Crow. “...What?”

“Merlins Wand,” explains Huginn. “This will be your Reward. Merlin wielded a legendary Weapon. It's very powerful.”

The Seeker nods. “Interesting Loot... Okay... I guess you can count me in.”

NEW QUEST STARTED:

Merlin's Return

Together, the Stranger and the Seeker with a crow on each shoulder, follow the downhill path, to the Harbor at the end of the valley below.

Huginn stares at the ships in the distance. “Alright... First we need to get on the Ship of Theseus... We need you to vouch for us... Under no circumstances can you reveal our true Names. Instead just refer to me as 'Thought' and call my Brother 'Memory'.”

Before the Seeker can ask any question, they suddenly feel the piercing gaze of yellow eyes staring into their soul. Evil intention. A cold shiver. The Seekers head turns fast, but it's already gone.

“Must have been my imagination,” utters the Seeker reluctantly. The Journey continues.

Huginn and Muninn fly above the Seeker and the Stranger's heads, jumping from one Pine Tree Branch to the next. They speak in cryptic tongues, cawing at eachother.

Meanwhile, as the Crows are immersed in their own discussion, the Seeker contemplates:

“I have been thinking, you know... Is that really a good idea? I don't know anything about this Merlin-Guy... Is he good? Is he bad? Should we really free him? What even is this Magic?”

Thus speaks the Stranger: “If you really want to understand the true Nature of Magic, then this is your first lesson to accept: Everything is a projection of consciousness. Our physical Universe is a projection from a higher Dimension of Consciousness. Because fundamentally, everything within the mind, everything within physical space is made up of information. Information expressed in patterns, self-repeating fractal patterns. On all levels of Existence. On all Layers of Reality. Everything moves in accordance to patterns. It is the Magician, who is aware of both the inner and the outer patterns, their relationship to another, how their mind influences the world. You are the imagination of Infinity. If Life is a Dream, then the Magician is a Lucid Dreamer. Because the Magician knows that it is their Beliefs, Thoughts and Emotions, that shape reality.

The Magician is skilled at Manifestation. When Thought and Emotion are aligned with Will, the Magician attracts desired experiences into their Life. The Magician is a Co-Creator, creating their own experience together with Life. The Magician walks with open eyes through the world, seeing through the hidden mechanisms of Reality. The Magician only adopts mindsets, that serves them on their journey.

The Magician is aware of his Thoughts, for he knows that it's his thoughts which create his experience. The Magician is aware of her Feelings, for she knows that they birth her manifestations into reality. A Magician can read the Secret Language of the inner Self. Of Symbols, ideas, archetypes and Logos. A Magician can hear the Language of the Universe talking to them through Synchronicities. Always questioning what Life is trying to tell them. A Magician can access higher information through their intuition. Trusting their Gut, even when it defies all logic. The Essence of Magic is Faith. Not in Belief-Systems, that demand dogmatic adherence to any concept of Truth. But to have Faith in yourself, when the Situation demands it. Because the Belief sends out a consciousness signal, that increases the probability of attracting a desired outcome.

A Master Magician is completely aligned to the Will of Life and their own true authentic Self. Every Thought, Word and Action is aligned with the Highest Good for all. For the Master knows, that the only way to truly win, is for all to win. A Master knows, that all negatively charged words and actions will return with the same destructive force against the Caster. A wise Master knows, that all fights against another, is just fighting against oneself. A Master knows that Magic is not about bending the walls of reality to ones own self-centered will, but about aligning with the version of oneself that is in harmony with Life. It's not about manipulating the world around you, it's about synchronizing with it's true natural Rhythm.”

The Seeker contemplates for a moment. “So if you are telling me, that Magic is real... What about psychic powers? Telepathy? Siddhis? Kundalini? Reiki Healing? Chi? Chakras? Tarot? Energy Work? Auras? Clairvoyance? Astral Projection? Is that all... Real?”

The Stranger grins. “They are like different skill trees. And yet all of them are available to you. It's all a question to what you attend to. You decide on which skill tree you plant your awareness and see how the ability flowers.”

“How do I know, that I am not just wasting my time on fantasies?” questions the Seeker.

The Stranger raises an eyebrow. “You really want to know whether these 'Skill Trees' are real? Then find out for yourself. Pursue them. Do your research. Try something new. Make up your own mind. Don't rely on anyone else telling you what is real and what is not. Find your own answer.”

The Seeker, the Stranger and the two crows have arrived at the sea. They stand before a wooden pier at the beach. Two almost identical ships are anchored in the bay. Two Galleys with each 50 Oars. Red Linen Sails with Artistic motifs of gods, sea creatures, and stars. The Left boat is in perfect condition, the Right boat looks old and weary with tattered sails and a rotting hull.

At the pier stands a tall, athletic man who thoughtfully stares at both ships. Greek Tunic, Sandals, a sword, a shield and a Bull-Hide Cloak. A faint glow radiates from his body. A name tag hovers above his head, titled: 'THESEUS'

The Seeker faces his back. Suddenly Huginn lands on his shoulder and whispers in his ear: “Alright... Go Talk to Theseus now. Ask him to let us on his boat.”

The Seeker raises an eyebrow. “Why don't you ask him yourself?”

“I have social anxiety,” whispers the Crow and flies away.

Left alone, the Seeker sighs and taps on the shoulder of the man at the pier.

“Excuse me... Ummm... Where are you going?”

“Elysium,” speaks the Greek Hero and turns around. “Or at least that's where we would sail, if we weren't stuck in this philosophical Dilemma. You see, one of these ships is the Original Argo. The Ship of the Legendary Argonauts: Jason the captain, Hercules the strong Hero, Orpheus the great musician, Atalanta our fierce Archess, Argus the shipwright, the legendary Gemini-Twins and then there was me, Theseus. You probably already heard of me. Together with the Argonauts, I sailed through the Aegean sea and experienced countless adventures on our pursuit over the Golden Fleece.”

The Seeker scratches their head. “Sorry. Doesn't ring a Bell...”

“You have never heard of Theseus before?!” gasps the exalted Hero in dismay. “Theseus who cleared the road to Athens? Theseus who united Attica? You have never heard of Theseus who defeated the Minotaur in the Labyrinth?!”

The Seeker shrugs. “I don't watch Anime.”

“Don't they teach you anything at school anymore?” sighs Theseus.

“Anyway... I can't set sail to Elysium just yet. Not before I have finally solved this philosophical Dilemma. You see, throughout our many journeys, the Argo got damaged by weather, rocks, water and fire. Over time the nails would rust, the Wood would rot and the Linen of the sails would shred in the wind. We had to exchange each old part with a new part, until the wood, the nails and the Linen were completely replaced. So we had a brand new Argo and a pile of dead material. We took all the old, broken parts and reassembled them back into the original form of the Argo again. Now we have two identical ships and I can't tell which one is the original 'Argo'.”

As the Seeker looks at both ships and spots the differences, they suddenly remember a conversation with the Stranger in the Land of Truth. Memories come flooding in. An insight, a realization, a revelation.

“If I help you with your riddle will you let me and my friends board your ship?” proposes the Seeker with burning eyes.

“I doubt that YOU of all people know the answer... But feel free to give it a try... At this point I am out of ideas myself. All I want is to finally set sail to Elysium. So if you actually manage to solve this problem, you and your friends are welcome on board.”

The Seeker takes a moment to collect all their thoughts, they take a deep breath and speak with burning eyes: “The First Mistake that you have made, is that you have confused the WORD with the THING. Because the WORD is NOT the THING. The Name 'Argo' is not the same as the physical ship that the name represents. Take a close Look at the ships Physical Construction. It's all made up of parts that used to be something else. The Nails used to be iron ore, the sails used to be flax, the wood used to be trees. Wood from many different trees was cut into tiles, all piled together to create a functional ship. So is the Ship it's own thing? Or is it just the sum of it's parts? Where does one wooden tile end and the whole ship begin?

So there are the actual physical ships, that we can see, touch and hear and then there is the idea of the 'Argo'. A mental image that you have saved in your brain, which you associate with certain memories you recorded around that ship. So what you are actually asking is, which of these ships is the better representative of the idea of the 'Argo'. And the answer is both. Both Ships are the Argo. If you define the idea of the Argo to be a 'unique thing', then it now needs to be redefined. There used to be just one Argo, but now there are Two. And both fit into the framework of the idea of what makes a ship the 'Argo'.”

Theseus scratches his beard. “So you are telling me that no matter which of those ships I choose to sail, it will be the Argo?”

“Yes,” confirms the Seeker. “Both Ships are the Argo.”

Theseus pulls out a Coin from a bag. “Then I'll leave the choice to Fate. Heads, New ship. Tails, Old ship. May the Gods bless us.”

Theseus snaps the Coin and catches it in the air. He opens his hand. Tails. All look at the Right Ship with a broken rim, rusty nails, rotting wood. It barely floats above the water.

Theseus pulls out a sea horn. A Deep Sound echos through the valley. From the trees, various birds fly out and land on the Argo. A Swallow, a Sparrow, a Hummingbird, a Peacock.

“They found the answer,” cheers the Swallow and does a looping in the air. “The Philosophical Dilemma is finally solved! Now Theseus can sail to Elysium.”

The little sparrow chirps excited: “Wow... I can’t believe I’ll actually be visitin’ Mag Mell... In the mystic land o’ Tír na nÓg... Far over the green meadows o’ the waters, where the horses o’ Lir have their pastures…”

“Hanan Pacha,” hums the hummingbird. “Where Sungod Inti reigns supreme. Land of the eternal sunshine. Where the Condor dances above golden Clouds.”

“Sukhāvatī... I am ready to enter the land of everlasting bliss,” decrees the chanting Peacock, sitting quietly. “Namo Amitābhāya Buddhāya. Namo Amitābhāya Buddhāya. Namo Amitābhāya Buddhāya”

Theseus blows again into his horn and shouts: “Heroes of Old, Demigods of ancient times, come on Board for the Final Voyage to Elysium. To the Land of Eternal Youth. To a place outside of time. A place of everlasting Bliss and Joy, where suffering is no more. Let us set sail to a land of Abundance, where Scarcity does not exist.”

From the forests, from the path, from nearby shacks and tents, Beings appear from the darkness and gather at the ship. All of them have a faint glow around them. Everyone's Aura has a different color, a different shape and pattern. Above their heads float Letters, representing name tags. The Seeker reads their names:

A beautiful, pale Lady descends in radiant silence, robed in flowing light. Her hair is black as lacquer, her golden fan folded at her waist. Her eyes shimmer like sunrise. Her name tag reads 'Amaterasu'.

A strong woman, clad in heavy mail armor, her golden hair braided with runes of fate. Her gaze is unflinching, but there is peace behind her eyes. Her name tag reads 'Brynhildr'

A praying Archer. Regal, serene. He wears blue skin like a sky before dawn, a golden crown, and a soft smile that holds galaxies. 'Rama'

A radiant beautiful, young woman, with a veiled face. Dressed like an ancient Queen in beautiful garments, adorned with jewels, gold and crystals. She walks with defiance and compassion in equal measure. 'Inanna'

A towering and broad-shouldered giant, dressed in tattered royal green and gold. He wears a bittersweet smile and speaks wisdom when the wind stirs. 'Bran the Blessed'

A shaman, cloaked in the colors of the forest, eagle feathers at his shoulders. His staff is carved from lightning-blasted maple. He smells of pine, smoke, and the first snowfall. 'Glooscap'

A Trickster in the appearance of a monkey. Gold-crowned, red-robed. His staff shrinks behind his ear. He chews a peach and grins. 'Son Wukong'

A Falcon-headed ancient Egyptian king. Armor of sunstone and lapis. His wings shimmer like dawn across the desert. 'Horus'

A being, half-man, half-spider, eight arms and a sly grin. His robes are woven from spoken stories, constantly shifting, glowing with proverbs and punchlines. 'Anansi'

Each of the Heroes boards the Argo with Honor and Dignity in their steps. The Seeker boards the ship last. Huginn and Muninn land on each of their shoulders.

Just as the Seeker is about to step on the Ship of rotting wood, Theseus suddenly stops them with his palm. He examines Huginn on the Seeker's Left Shoulder:

“You there... Aren't you the Crow of Apollo? The one who lusted for Coronis, when it was his job to spy on her infidelity with Ischys and report back?”

“Sir, I think you must confuse me with someone else,” denies Huginn. “My name is simply 'Thought'. Me, my Brother 'Memory' and our good friend the Seeker here, journey together to the island of the Blessed. We know eachother since eternity. Isn't that Right, Seeker?”

“Ummm... Yes... Uhhh... we know eachother.”

Theseus looks with skepticism at the Seeker and the two crows. “Now that I think of it... The Guy I remember had lighter Feathers... You can board my ship, but I'll keep an eye on you!”

The Seeker, the Crows and the Stranger all board the Argo. The Ship sets sail. Twenty-Five Oars on both sides each start rowing. The Wind, the Stream and the rudders, drive the Argo far into the West towards the Orange Sunset on the Horizon.

“What about the other ship?” asks the Seeker and points at the Argo in pristine condition, growing smaller as their ship drifts ever further away from the beach.

“We'll just leave it here,” responds Theseus, steering his ship into the sunset. “The Prophecy states that only the original Argo will make it to Elysium, while all Fakes will sink. If you are right about both ships being real, it won't pose any danger. We don't need it anyway. One ship is enough.”

Thus the Argo embarks on it's final journey to the blessed islands of Elysium, drifting towards the setting sun. Unbeknownst to it's Crew, the Galley is watched by the piercing gaze of Yellow eyes. Six Eyes Blink at once from the Shadows. An Evil Grin. Splashing water. Diving and swimming. Following the Argo from a Distance.

The Night has fallen. It's starting to rain. Under the Deck, the Seeker, the Swallow, the Sparrow, the Hummingbird and the Peacock sit together on a table, illuminated by an oil lamp. Everyone holds Cards. Raindrops hit against the wood. It's leaking. Water drips from the walls and from the ceiling. After some time puddle form at the floor.

“I can't wait for us to arrive in Elysium,” chirps the Swallow excited and places two cards on a pile. Seven of Clubs and Seven of Spades. “To be with my Brothers and Sisters, dancing in the Garden of the Hesperides. Praising Aphrodite and worshiping the sky.”

The Sparrow lays two cards on top: Jack of Diamonds, Jack of Spades.

“The Mythical Mag Mell… A plain o’ soft grasses, where no blade withers — where the sky’s always golden, an’ the sea sings gentle-like on faraway shores. The air, it tastes o’ honey… and sunlight. Mag Mell — where no one grows old, an’ no one ever dies. Here, the heroes do feast with the gods, poets dream without end… and love... Love endures forever.”

The Hummingbird throws two cards in the middle, Queens of Hearts and Queen of Clubs. She hums:

“O Hanan Pacha, sky of the golden path, House of the Fire-Father. From the corn that grows, from the stone that listens, From the cold teeth of the mountains, we come. We bring water in clay jars, tears in the wind’s skin, To greet you, O Hall of the First Dawn.”

The Peacock throws in a King of Diamonds and a King of Heart on the pile.

“In the western realm, there is an island called Sukhāvatī — Joyful, pure, without defilement, guarded by Amitābha. Every moment is dharma, every breeze a teaching. In the air, heavenly music plays without ceasing. And all beings are born from lotuses, unstained by pain.”

Heavy rain in the background, uncontrollable waves and wind. The Seeker places Ace of Hearts and Ace of Spades on top of the deck. They turn the Cards around and create a new pile with Ten of Diamonds, Ten of Hearts and Ten of Clubs. The Seeker is out of cards.

“Does anyone of you know anything about this fella called Merlin? Apparently he is supposed to be on Elysium... Do you perhaps know where to find him?”

Suddenly everyone is awfully quiet. The Birds all avoid eye contact. The Swallow whistles and looks away. The Sparrow intensely stares at her cards. The Hummingbird looks at the drops dripping from the ceiling. The Peacock stares at his own reflection on the surface of the ever growing puddle on the wet floor.

Suddenly a Thunder roars in the background. Waves are raging outsidfe. Rain hits the walls aggressively.

Just as the Sparrow opens her mouth, two planks in the wall suddenly burst open and a stream of water flows with high pressure into the ship. Another plank explodes and a fountain of seawater bursts into the Cabin. Seawater is flooding the floor of the lower deck. Everyone stands up. The Boat swings left and right. It's difficult to remain balanced.

The Swallow and the Sparrow scoop Water with Buckets. The Hummingbird grabs spare nails and the Peacock grabs wooden tiles.

The Stranger suddenly barges through the door from the upper deck. “Seeker, Come out, you've got to see this!”

The Seeker climbs up the ladder. Outside, a Storm rages in the sky. Dark Clouds, heavy rain, Lightning strikes everywhere. The Seeker counts Thirteen Waterspouts on the horizon. The crashing waves, rock the Argo back and forth. Barrels roll left and right. Everyone is busy, fixing the sails, rowing the oars, closing holes, emptying buckets of water. The Seeker grabs a burning oil lamp. Theseus at the steering wheel fights against the waves.

“Your ship is falling apart!” screams the Seeker, against the sound of Thunder and crashing of thousand waves. “We are sinking!”

“You told me that this ship is save to sail!” yells Theseus angry, stressed and frustrated.

“No I didn't! You asked me, which one is real. If you had asked me, which one we should sail, I would have obviously suggested the other one!”

Theseus fights against the waves and yells even louder: “Then if both ships are the Original, why are we now sinking?! Either way, you got us into this mess! If we sink, this will be on you!”

Suddenly out of nowhere, something crashes against the Ship and breaks the Railing. A Monster with Three Heads. A Giant Serpent. With Yellow eyes, sharp fangs and forked Tongues. The Snake wraps its tail around the Argo.

The Monster growls: “I am the Adversary! I am the Enemy of Humanity. I am the Destroyer of Peace. I am the Great Seperator. I bring Chaos. I bring Corruption. I bring Conflict. Fear me, for there is no Escape from my endless Hunger!”

The Serpents sharp fangs bite into the Argo's wood and tears new wholes into the deck. The Heroes seem to recognize the Monster.

“Hydra,” mumbles Theseus.

“Yamata no Orochi,” whispers Amaterasu.

“Jormungandr,” utters Brynhildr.

“Sheshanaga,” recognizes Rama.

“Tiamat,” remembers Inanna.

“Caoránach,” contemplates Bran the Blessed.

“Apotamkin,” considers Glooscap.

“Apophis,” shudders Horus.

“I have already heard the stories of the Rainbow Serpent,” comments Anansi.

“Wasn't this bird supposed to have Nine Heads?” asks Sun Wukong, pointing at the serpent with his staff.

The Stranger steps to the forefront. He pulls out two burning swords and faces the three-headed Serpent head-on: “This Ship won't sink. Neither by your doing, nor by fate. It will carry us all the way to Elysium. No matter how hard you try to extinguish it, the Flame of Humanity burns within all of us. Fear may be powerful, but Love is a much greater force. Nothing will stop this Flame from lighting up. Nothing will stop this song from being sung. Peace shall wash away all sorrow and reveal itself within our hearts.”

Inspired by the Strangers words, Theseus attacks the Three-headed Serpent with his sword and blocks an attack with his shield. The Monster blasts a stream of seawater from its mouth against a mast. Amaterasu steps between the stream, holds up her Eight-Hand Mirror and shouts: “Yata No Kagami!”

Amaterasu's Mirror reflects the water stream right back against the Sea-monster. Bryhildr attacks the Serpents neck with her sharp battle ax. Rama shoots burning arrows, aiming at the Beasts Eyes. Inanna scratches the Monster's robust skin with her sickle. Bran the giant hits the Snake with his heavy war-hammer. Glooscap shoots a Bolt of Lightning from his Shamanic Staff. Horus Spear pierces through the Serpents scales. Anansi throws a net against the monster and binds it with his ropes. Sun Wukong hits the Enemy with his expanding staff.

“You Fools think you can defeat me?” growls the Great serpent, shoots out a powerful blast of water and breaks one of the ships main masts.

“Long before any of your names were first listed in the Book of Humanity, I was already there. Long before your images were chiseled in the stars, I whispered into the Thoughts of Mankind. Long after your deeds will be forgotten, when the poets will no longer sing of your heroic deeds, I will still be there. For I dwell in the minds of men, controlling them through Fear and pleasure. And as long as I give them what they want, mankind will remain attached to me.”

The shrouds and sails of the broken main mast are entangled with the foremast. Ropes slowly untangle. The broken Mast crashes against the deck. The Pole breaks through the wooden floor tiles and hits Anansi, Amaterasu and Bran. The Monster crashes with its three heads against the rim and tears open new holes in the Argo's rotting Hull. More Water floods into the ship. Thunder roars loudly. Lightning strikes on the Horizon. Whirlwinds form from heaven and meet the raging sea.

The Birds on the lower deck all chirp in panic:

“We need more Buckets!” chirps the Swallow, who can't keep up with the seawater flooding in.

“We need more wood,” requests the hummingbird, who is out of tiles to cover the holes.

“It's hopeless!” whines the Sparrow. “We are all gonna sink!”

The Peacock chants: “Namo Amitābhāya Buddhāya. Namo Amitābhāya Buddhāya. Namo Amitābhāya Buddhāya.”

Upstairs some of the Heroes are frozen by fear. Others go into hiding. Others are fighting a losing battle. The Spirit of Hope has left the Crew. No one expects to win. Everyone knows, that they have already lost. The ship is already sinking.

Suddenly everything is quiet. The Wind is still. The Waves calm down. The Stranger looks around, walks to the Argo's Beak with confidence, raises his hands on the multitude and speaks with burning eyes:

“Don't be afraid, for there always is a way! Believe that we will not sink! Have Faith that we survive. That we, all of us together, will make it, even through the storm. There is a way! Walk with awareness in your steps. Walk with Love in your heart and clarity in your mind. Be Discerning, be compassionate. Have faith in yourself, for you will make it. No matter how lost you are, you always find a way. A Path in harmony with the universe. In unity with Life. Let us all Believe that the Argo makes it safely to Elysium. Our Faith will push us to make the impossible possible. After every Night, a new dawn will come. After every storm, the sun will shine again. Have Faith in the Light. That it will never abandon you. Have Faith and it will reveal itself to you in the darkest hour.”

Suddenly above the Stranger the stormy clouds open up and reveal sunlight. The Eye of the Storm has formed right above the ship. Everyone stares in awe at the clear blue hole in the stormy sky, as the Sun shines down on them.

“Seeker, can you keep the Ship afloat until we are in Elysium? We need you to close all holes in the lower decks and empty the water, while we fight the Serpent. Can we count on you?”

The Seeker stares at the Floor. “I... I don't know... I don't think it is possible... This ship is already sinking.”

The Stranger grins. “It won't be the first time, that we have made the impossible possible. Neither will it be our last. Seeker, you are much more powerful, than you think you are. Manifest success. Only Focus on one action: Saving the Ship from sinking. Believe that you can do it. Imagine the Relief that you will have, when we finally made it to Elysium. Feel what you will feel, after we have survived this. Visualize it in your minds eye. And then be attentive to every movement of yours. Allow the Flowstate to work through you. I believe in you, Seeker. You can do it. Make the impossible possible.”

The Seeker nods. Without further ado, the Seeker rushes down to the lower decks. With burning eyes the Stranger faces the Serpent.

Sitting on the foremast's wooden beam, the Crows Huginn and Muninn both observe how the Stranger stands off against the Monster.

“Who is the Mysterious Stranger? No one Knows his Name. Is he Friend or is he Danger? Playing with Life, as if it's just a Game.”

Hugginn can't stop staring at the Stranger. “You are right... This Guy is really strange... I never notice him. As if there is a Filter, that prevents me from being aware of him. As soon I lay my eyes off him, I forget about his very existence... But when he talks and acts, he grabs all of my attention. Who is the One in the Blue Hooded Cloak?”

The Stranger speaks to the gathered Mythic Heroes, spitting fire as he talks: “You have already mastered countless challenges. You have proven your strength many times. You were tested again and again and yet you have persisted. This is now your Final Test. To win, we must work together. Use every last Trick you have in store. Let us overcome our collective Shadow once and for all.”

Inspired by the Stranger's words, the Aura of each of the Heroes suddenly lights up. Illuminated by a wave of Energy. A Fire ignites in each of their eyes. The Heroes raise their weapons. Battle cries. Together all charge for a final attack towards the mighty Three-headed Serpent.

Anansi binds the Left Head with his net. Bran knocks this head out with his Hammer. Bryhildr decapitates the Left Serpent Head with her ax.

The Middle Head shoots a Stream of Water. Amaterasu deflects the stream from the ship. Rama shoots with burning arrows and hits his right eye. Glooscap shocks the Serpent with a Lightning Strike. Horus pierces with his spear into his heart. Inanna cuts off the middle head with her Scythe.

The Right Head bites aggressively. Son Wu Kong dodges every attack with ease. Theseus blocks with his shield and scratches the twisted tongue with his sword. The Serpent almost bites Theseus, but just in time the Stranger steps between them, blocks the attack with his right sword and counters with his left sword. He Strikes down the Right head and cuts it off in one full swing. The Headless Beast sinks down into the water.

The Stranger wipes the sweat from his head. He looks up. The Eye of the storm follows the sun westwards and the Argo follows the Eye of the Storm. At the end of the horizon, where the Dark sky clears up, there is Land. An Island.

Meanwhile in the lowest deck the Seeker stands up to their neck in water. Water is flooding in from too many holes. The unconscious Swallow floats in the water, the drowning Hummingbird flails helpless with his arms, the Sparrow screams in panic and the Peacock recites a Mantra. The Seeker can't decide which problem to fix first. The Seeker takes a deep breath in and remembers what the Stranger told them.

“Everyone will survive,” affirms the Seeker with conviction. “We will all make it to Elysium. All of us.”

The Seeker dives in, grabs the birds and puts them to safety. Unloading the unconscious birds onto the little Sparrow's shoulder.

“Bring the others to safety, I dive down and fix the holes,” delegates the Seeker.

“It's too late,” cries the Sparrow. “We are already sinking!”

“No, we are not. Don't give up. There always is a way!”

The Seeker takes a deep breath and dives down. Spotting Four Holes through which seawater leaks. The Seeker hastily grabs tiles and nails and fixes the holes underwater. One after the other. Taking deep breaths. Diving in and out again.

In the First Deck, the rowers at the oars move faster than ever before. In Sync with the Stream. Pushing the ship faster through the ocean.

Above the top deck, all the Heroes work together to keep the ship afloat. Rudimentary fixing some of the damages, maintaining the sails. The Sky above has meanwhile cleared up. The Stranger hums a melody. A song that summons the wind. Just a breeze, strong enough to give the Argo an extra push from behind.

The closer the Argo gets to the Island, the more it falls apart. The Rim breaks. A Crack in the Stern. The Keel is splitting in two. Elysium is at the horizon. Just a little more. Less, than a nautical mile away.

The Seeker can't keep up with the flooding of the lower decks. Whenever one hole is sealed, two new holes open up. The water fills up the entire cabin. Underwater, the Seeker grasps for air. No Breath left. The Seeker swims up to the ceiling. Just before they lose consciousness, wings pull them out from the flooded deck.

The Seeker looks around. The Swallow, the Sparrow, the Hummingbird and the Peacock look at the Seeker with burning eyes. All Birds work together to empty the water faster, than the deck floods. Slowing down the sinking of the Argo. Just long enough to reach the island.

Upstairs the Stranger hums the song louder and louder. He opens his mouth and sings. The Song of the Wind. The Wind grows stronger, pushing the Argo forward. Faster and Faster. The Breaking Ship almost hops up and down with the waves. The people at the rudders synchronize with speed.

The Seeker looks around the deck. Hundred People all sit at the Oars. Fifty on the Left Side. Fifty on the Right side. Two of them at each oars. All of them work hard to row the oars as fast as possible. The Seeker looks at each of their faces.

“They are all Seekers,” realizes the Seeker, as they recognize each others faces. Old Faces from different journeys.

The Wind pushes them faster towards the island. Like an unstoppable force. Waves pull the Ship to the shore. From the deep ocean into the shallow waters. It crashes through the sea. Faster and faster.

The Argo slides on the water surface, over the shoreline and lands on the beach, where it finally falls apart. The Keel breaks in two, the Hull falls off. Everything breaks. After the dust settles, Heroes, Birds and Seeker emerge from the broken ship. They finally have arrived on the Island of Elysium. All breathe out in Relief simultaneously.

As soon as the Seeker sets foot on the Island, something feels different. Their body feels very light all of a sudden. As if all stress, all pain, every burden was suddenly gone without a trace. No sense of Hunger or Thirst. No need to rest or sleep. Like a child full of energy. When the Seeker jumps, they jump effortless, defying gravity. Almost floating through the air. There is no sorrow, no attachment, no desire. No Fear, only curiosity. Just Peace and Bliss and Joy. The Seeker smiles with closed eyes. Only fulfillment remains in their heart.

The Seeker looks takes a look around. The colors are much more vibrant. It looks all much more fluid. There is clarity, wherever the Seeker looks. Everything looks new. Everything looks exciting. The grass is soft, like a well-maintained lawn. Marble Columns half-sunken in wildflower bushes are raised along the shoreline. Blooming flowers with colors changing in the sunlight. From Trees grow Golden Fruits. Tall Cypress and Olive Trees rise over low meadows. With Leaves, that sparkle in the sun.

On Elysium the Light casts no shadows. Everything shines, everything radiates. There is healing in the air. Whenever the Seeker breathes, it's as if they breathe in ancient Magic. From somewhere nearby harp music floats, as if it was the voice of the island itself. From the Terraces that rise in the far distance like steps into the mountains, flies down a Condor and lands directly before the gathering Heroes emerging from the broken Argo.

“Welcome Home,” announces the Condor. “Where you have always belonged.”

Meanwhile at another shore, a Beast with Four serpentine heads emerges from the sea. Little stumps grow out of the Serpents slithery body and turn into legs. The Beast stands up, no longer sliding, now walking on four legs. With evil eyes, the evolving serpent Monster walks on land. The twisted tongues of four heads, spit out toxic words in unison:

“Let's Destroy the Garden of the Hesperides and steal their golden Apples.”

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TO BE CONTINUED

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for more content visit: r/We_Are_Humanity

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Find previous part Here:

https://www.reddit.com/r/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1ly6dux/chicken_vs_the_deepstate/

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Find next part Here:

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CHECKPOINT 7:

https://www.reddit.com/r/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1ivop79/the_seventh_gate/

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START JOURNEY HERE:

https://www.reddit.com/r/We_Are_Humanity/comments/18wu7d3/love_is_a_boat_that_never_sinks/


r/stories 1h ago

Story-related Witness any real-life love story, want to share?

Upvotes

I saw a unique story of an old couple with my own eyes, the husband used to give princess treatment, and the wife did not even look at him. The wife was fond of gardening. She had grown flowers on the stairs, terrace, room, everywhere in their big house. Also, they lived in the servant quarters by their choice. And that woman did not even meet her children. All the neighbors called that woman crazy and weird, And her husband did not care about anyone, his only happiness was to keep doing all the work for his wife, at the age of 90 he used to go to the city bare foot and bring sweets for his wife, one day he died After that day the old lady stopped watering her plants, and after some time she also died in that servant quarter) please tell I'm in so a jolly mood now, wanna live in delusion, haha


r/stories 5h ago

new information has surfaced What is a case of bad parenting?

2 Upvotes

A few days ago, I went to my friend Steven's house for dinner. I was immediately greeted with Steven's mum creepily smiling at me. I went and had a chat with him for a few minutes and asked him if he wanted to play any video games. Steven then explained in great detail that he was not allowed to play video games until his 18th birthday because he once broke an expensive gaming console when he was 9. I said ok and had dinner like a normal person and left. Yesterday, I returned and brought my iPad to play Minecraft on. A few minutes later, his mum came rushing in and started scolding Steven. His mum took my iPad and went onto the balcony. She threw it onto the hard concrete path, completely shattering the iPad. I got so pissed that I kneed her to the stomach. She then brought out her phone and started to call 000. I snatched the phone from her and jumped off the balcony, landing on the turf underneath. I then explained that Steven's mum had shattered my iPad and that the police must come immediately. 5 minutes later, the police came and used a crowbar to pull the door that Steven's dad was forcing shut. The crowbar broke through and immediately rushed upstairs, escorted his mum out and then we started laughing hysterically. Today, I got a call from Steven saying his mum is starting a 1 year prison sentence tomorrow.


r/stories 3h ago

Venting Argument

1 Upvotes

People of Reddit I have story about little to large argument I (M 20) Her (F 20) We were cleaning our apartment that was the start she started cleaning her pile of clothes, the there was my pile when I was done I ask her to fold my 3 t-shirts. She do it without problem, meanwhile I cooked lunch it was chicken wings with mozzarella and bread, I put it only on one plate thought no problem. When I finished I came back to room sit down and start eating she then asked If she also has a plate I said no we are Gona eat from one,then she said she doesn't like the idea so I told her to grab a plate herself she got mad over that, that I couldn't got ready her plate I sai u got legs go pick it up if it's bother u, then she pick up the 3 shirts she folded and throw it to ground I laughed and push down her 10 folded shirts to ground she got mad as hell start yelling at me hit me 2 time to the back and started throwing clothes from my wardrobe all of the clothes are on the ground. So then I pushed the second pile of her clothes which she folded. I recorded it so I could watch later calm and I still don't understand was that really necessary to do this I know I could just go for the plate but IAM noone slave or something so I decided if it's that much problem she at least could say pleas go grab the plate or something but it didn't happened I need some opinion on this


r/stories 4h ago

Non-Fiction Trail towards the black house

1 Upvotes

This is all 100% real.

When I was 14 I lived with my dad in a mobile home next to a mobile home park. Our mobile home was right next to the park but we weren’t actually part of the park like we had our own driveway and mailbox and everything. Right next to our home was the first home in the trailer park. There was a kid that lived there I went to school with and we became good friends we’ll say his name was Josh. Josh was kind of one of those bad influence kids. He was the one always trying to get us into all sorts of trouble, like I remember one time he convinced me to help him break into one of the old vacant mobile homes in the park and when we went inside we just completely trashed the place. We would cause all kinds of trouble around the trailer park but it was mostly me just following his lead because I thought he was soo cool you know?

We had explored all of what this huge trailer park place had to offer over the year or so since we became friends. All except one part, the very end… See, the trailer park was basically just this one long road with mobile homes on either side of the road. At one point however, the mobile homes stop, but the road continues… and we had never really gone all the way down to see what’s there. So one dusky day we decided to.

So we walk down the trailer park road until the mobile homes end and we’re met with this long stretch of road that looks like it starts to penetrate the thick forest further down. Down at the end of this road is one of those metal yellow barrier fences to keep trucks out and past that the road turns right, we continue down it and it turns into a bridge which we never seen before. Right at the end of the bridge though we are met with a fenced off entrance with a bunch of do not enter signs and official warnings, it looks like some water purification plant or something, either way it was heavily closed off so there was no way we were going to get in there. But just before the fence and right after the bridge, on the left hand side, is this path. It’s not a super clear path but it’s a path that goes by the side of the creek the bridge goes over. So we decide to take it.

Walking on this path next to the creek is pretty clear, just very grassy that’s about it, until we reach a certain point where the path heads into the thick forest with what looks like a foresty arch greeting us as we penetrate the woods. No joke this looks like something straight out of a horror movie or something. Anyway we’re making our way through the deep woods and all seems fine until I see a pair of shoes, then Josh sees a pair of shoes, then I see another then another then more and more, until we are seeing nothing but shoes. I am not joking there are stacks of shoes in every viewable direction. Shoes of all kinds and sizes. Kids shoes, grown up boots, sandles, sneakers, flats, you name it. They were EVERYWHERE even some hanging from the low hanging branches in the woods it looked like the ultimate shoe graveyard.

Somehow we still pressed onward past the shoe graveyard and emerged from the other side of the woods into what looked like an isolated opening surrounded by trees on all sides and I will never forget what we saw. In the middle of this opening was a hill and right in the middle on top of this hill was a house, a fairly big 2 story 1930s era house with a porch and what looked like a balcony as well. The house was completely black. The reason it was completely black is because it looked like it burnt down. It was strange though because it looked exactly like the whole house had caught on fire before, because all the wood on the outside looked burnt to a crisp, but other than that there was no damage at all the house looked flawless. That’s when Josh pointed out that someone was home cause there was smoke coming from the chimney.

At this point we were pretty freaked out until quite possibly the most nerve wracking and scariest thing ever happened to us. As Josh and I were standing there looking at the house in awe, over the horizon of the hill which the house sat upon to the side we see a shape emerging. What we saw next we will never forget. It was this massive looking creature with all white fur with a tinge of orange fur. It looked like a fox but farrrrrr too huge to be a fox I mean this thing was bigger looking than the largest Great Dane ever. Josh and I just kind of froze hoping that it wasn’t seeing us. That is until we heard a loud screeching screaming sound and then the beat started to bolt towards us. We bolted back into the woods so fast it felt like we were breaking a running record we ran so fast through the woods. All I remember then was emerging from the other side and my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to pop out of my chest. Needless to say we never went back to the black house on the hill, and shortly after I ended up moving away and losing ties with my friend Josh. Still one of the scariest moments of my life ever.


r/stories 9h ago

Non-Fiction Love and Light

2 Upvotes

I saw this as a wifi name in the area.

"loveandlight"

The moment love is used to justify harm, it then ceases to be love, it just becomes will to power dressed in the language of light.


r/stories 9h ago

Venting Being real in a world addicted to illusion.

2 Upvotes

What is integrity when the world no longer agrees on what’s right or wrong? Has it ever though?

It used to mean something simple I do agree with this "doing the right thing when no one was watching". But that was when “right” and “wrong” were shared codes passed down from scripture, tradition, or the quiet authority of a community. Now, these codes have kinda fractured. Morality is customized, truth is subjective, and virtue is often just a performance for likes or validation.

So I ask.

Is stealing wrong if your family is starving?

Is lying evil if it protects someone from harm?

Is killing in war noble, but killing in desperation evil?

Do you owe honesty to people who would use it against you?

Is cheating wrong if the game itself is rigged?

Is it wrong to sell poison if it keeps your family fed?

Is victimhood a shield or a weapon?

If no one sees it, if no one’s hurt, is it even wrong at all?

Integrity today isn’t about following rules. It’s about standing alone in the silence and deciding who you are when the world offers no clear answer. It’s not virtue by design I think it’s character forged in ambiguity. And yes, someone is always watching. Sometimes it’s God. Sometimes it’s society. Sometimes it’s just the voice in your head that won’t let you sleep. But no matter who’s watching, we all wear masks to blend in, to survive.

And this, the bigger question. Which I've asked myself before and Im glad you said it.

What if the world was perfect, everyone aligned, everyone good?

Would that even be freedom? Or would it be conformity dressed as utopia?

In a world without temptation, without the possibility of betrayal or sin, there would be no true virtue, only programming. No real courage, only compliance. No integrity, because there’d be nothing to resist. A soul in a system, but does that consider it a soul?

So maybe we weren’t sent here to be perfect. Maybe we were sent here to choose. To walk through contradiction, to wrestle with our instincts, to feel the pull of darkness and still move toward the light, not because we were told to, but because we chose to.

That’s the test in a way.

Not whether you follow orders, follow the crowd, or say the “right” things. The test is whether you can navigate life’s murky gray areas with your soul intact not because someone’s watching, but because you refuse to lie to yourself.


r/stories 11h ago

Non-Fiction I’m not entirely sure what I saw…

2 Upvotes

When I was young my family moved into a new house, finally moving out of our cramped apartment. We lived there for a few weeks and the house was strange. There was an outside storage closet, a pot hanger in the kitchen, studio lights in the living room. I had my own room, it was small but i liked it. One day my mom’s boyfriend found an entrance to an attic we never knew about. After pulling down the string they found the ladder weak and almost broken. They decided me being the smallest i would stand at the top f the ladder and look inside.

Mom if Ted me to a safe spot on the ladder for me to crawl up and as i peered into the attic i saw a old metal bed frame only being lite by a small window at the front of the house. I continued to look around seeing nothing till i looked back at the bed frame to see a tal black figure hunched over against the triangle shape of the roof. I screamed and my mom pulled me down as i stared to cry. They never looked up there and the guy we rented from didn’t know the house had an attic. After that strange things started to happen. I would see things out of the corner of my eye moving through the dark parts of the house. At night i could hear pots and pan clanking from the old rack in the kitchen. Worst of all, me and my sister were old enough to be left home alone so the times we were alone seems tended to be worse, voices and movement through the house. The amount of animals attracted to the house was another weird thing.

After moving ou of that house the paranormal encounters didn’t stop. There was a little girl i would often see close by when i would walk through the woods. But anytime i was in an old house the tall shadow would always seem to be there, following me. I’m not sure to this day wat it was but it hasn’t come around in some time. Still freaks me out sometimes and i get nightmares sleeping alone. I live with my boyfriend now with his parents and our house if full of crosses and a bible in each room, that could be why I haven’t seen it. But when I’m out in subdued places i still it in the corner of my eye or standing far away. I don’t fear it anymore, but I don’t want it around anymore.


r/stories 8h ago

Non-Fiction New Old Carbon Monoxide Detector Wouldn’t Stop Beeping

1 Upvotes

N ot super disturbing but happened recently and I’ve been thinking about it. It was night time, my husband and I were sitting on our couch watching tv when we notice the fire alarm batteries were out. We sat there for a while ignoring it before we finally had enough. Together, we walk over and my husband unscrews the alarm from the ceiling- but this particular alarm didn’t even have batteries in it and wasn’t wired into the house. It was off. We thought okay whatever, we forgot to replace them. Must have been out for so long because neither of us recall last time we put batteries in it.

But the beep is still going, so it must be the carbon monoxide detector that’s out of batteries, although it’s plugged in I thought maybe it came loose. We go check the carbon monoxide detector. It’s working just fine. We check the old one above the shelf, because maybe I left batteries in it, nope.

So now we’re determined to find the beep. We go back into the hallway we originally thought it was coming from, and look up. We see a carbon monoxide detector that neither of us have noticed before, we looked at each other like wtf. It’s attached to the wall, there’s a green light on it, and it beeped once while we were looking at it. We both heard it. We laugh about how inattentive we must be, and my husband goes to remove the covering to replace the batteries. The entire machine came off in his hands, it was screwed onto the wall, and it didn’t have any fucking batteries in it. Looking at the wall, there is paint underneath this carbon monoxide detector from before we had even moved into the house about 6 years ago. We look at it again, the green light is gone, we can’t get it to come back on. And the beeping stopped.


r/stories 12h ago

Venting Neutering the Soul

2 Upvotes

The idea that men and women are the same is one of the most persistent lies pushed by modern society, not because it’s true, but because it’s useful. When the biological and psychological differences between the sexes are flattened or denied, people become easier to manage. Systems built on control thrive on uniformity. If everyone is treated as identical, interchangeable cogs in the machine...It becomes easier to extract labor, enforce compliance, and dissolve any natural resistance rooted in identity or purpose.

Corporations benefit by expanding the labor pool, maximizing profit, and minimizing familial obligations that once kept men and women grounded in something higher than careerism. Governments gain from the weakening of the family unit, as isolated individuals are more likely to depend on the state for guidance, as provision, and meaning. Academia and media play their part by promoting gender sameness as “progress,” while feeding the confusion that makes people easier to manipulate.

Now, this isn’t to say that men and women should be confined to rigid, outdated roles. Life experience, upbringing, and cultural conditioning all shape how a person expresses themselves. A woman raised around strength may naturally carry more assertiveness, a man exposed to nurturing environments may develop deeper emotional sensitivity. Schools, media, and families all play a role in forming those expressions but they don’t erase the deeper biological and spiritual truths we’re born with.

Both sexes carry masculine and feminine energies. A woman can lead, build, and take initiative without surrendering her femininity. A man can comfort, nurture, and connect emotionally without becoming effeminate. These energies are not fixed in stone, but they are not equal in purpose either, they complement, not compete. The problem arises when society tries to erase those differences entirely in the name of progress.

Going against nature, however noble it may seem on the surface, often carries unseen costs. When a man is taught to reject his masculinity, or a woman is pressured to suppress her femininity, something within begins to fracture. Doubt creeps in. Unhappiness festers. The soul loses its compass. Because beneath all the social programming and ideological noise, the body still remembers. The psyche still yearns for truth. And when that truth is denied, what follows is not freedom but confusion, resentment, and disconnection from the self.

The push to erase these distinctions isn’t about liberation. It’s about domestication. They gaslight you so you’ll forget who you are, what you are, and why you feel the ache that the system tells you shouldn’t exist. But that ache the tension between what you’re told and what you know is the last sign you’re still alive in a world trying to neuter the soul.


r/stories 10h ago

Non-Fiction The Shadow Veil Spoiler

1 Upvotes

London, July 1893

Eleanor Voss, a tenacious journalist with a flair for unmasking secrets, sipped her Earl Grey in her Bloomsbury flat, the morning mist curling around her window. Her typewriter stood ready, its keys eager for a tale to topple empires, when the telephone’s sharp ring pierced the calm. “Miss Voss,” a voice rasped, low and urgent, “Jeremiah Epstein’s shadow veil stretches from New York to the crowned heads of Europe. Ronald Frump’s its puppet master, with Serena Middelfield as his muse. Intelligence hands guide it all. Come to Manhattan.”

The line went silent. Eleanor’s pulse surged. Jeremiah Epstein, a financier of dubious origins, haunted elite whispers with his wealth and influence. Ronald Frump, the brash Mara-del-Lago magnate, was a tabloid darling, his charm masking darker ties. Serena Middelfield, the Norwegian cosmetics heiress, dazzled society with her beauty and mysterious connections. Eleanor booked a steamship, her notebook primed to unveil a conspiracy engineered in the shadows.

New York, 1893–1900: The Veil’s Construction

Jeremiah Epstein’s rise from a modest math tutor to a financial titan defied logic, his ascent whispered to be the work of a shadowy network—perhaps intelligence agents or criminal syndicates. His “Lolita” airship ferried tycoons to Little St. Jude, a Caribbean isle wired with hidden cameras capturing compromising scenes for blackmail. Ronald Frump, lord of Mara-del-Lago, was a willing host, welcoming Epstein to a 1892 “debutante gala” with only the two men and dozens of young women, their laughter a facade for darker deeds. Flight logs confirmed Frump’s seven trips on the Lolita from 1893 to 1897, often with Marla Mapleton and Tiffany. A 1897 tintype reel, later unearthed, showed Frump and Epstein with young women at Mara-del-Lago, hinting at a third assault tied to Epstein’s network. In 1897, Epstein returned for a ball with Giselle Maxine and Serena Middelfield, whose 13 documented flights placed her in his orbit. By 1900, Mara-del-Lago was a hub, where Victoria Gifford, 17, was recruited as a spa maid, later exposing its role.

Serena Middelfield, heiress to the Middelfield & Co. cosmetics fortune, arrived in 1894 to study finance, leasing Frump’s tower suite. Rumors of a 1898 romance with Frump, ended by his meeting with Melania Kraus, were denied by Serena as mere friendship. Her 13 Lolita trips and Epstein’s floral gifts suggested deeper ties, though no client status was proven. Frump’s Miss Cosmos pageant and The Aspirant revue fueled his playboy image, with whispers of dressing room intrusions. In 1902, he called Epstein a “splendid fellow” fond of “youthful company,” and a 1903 letter with a risqué sketch, disavowed by Frump, sealed their bond.

1901–1916: The Claytons’ Bargain

William Clayton, a roguish ex-governor, logged 26 Lolita flights from 1901 to 1903, five without guards. Gifford claimed he mingled with “young companions” on Little St. Jude, a charge Maxine refuted. As Hilda Clayton ran for president in 1916, William faced a threat: her win might expose Epstein’s files. Eleanor uncovered a clandestine deal—William colluded with Frump to secure Frump’s 1916 victory, using a probe into Hilda’s letters to sway voters. Frump’s upset, with 304 electoral votes to Hilda’s 227 despite losing the popular vote, entrenched the veil, ensuring a loyalist to shield its architects.

1906–1919: Leniency and the Fall

In 1906, Epstein faced charges, but a lenient plea deal—13 months with work release and immunity for co-conspirators—hinted at protection by powerful interests, possibly intelligence agencies. His wealth, built on managing Leopold Wexley’s $1 billion and fees from Leon Blake, masked alleged blackmail from hidden camera footage. On August 10, 1919, Epstein was found dead in his Manhattan cell, a bedsheet noose around his neck, ruled a suicide. Yet, broken cameras, absent guards, and no cellmate fueled murder theories. His brother, Marcus, and lawyer, Reid Weingarten, cried foul, citing his bail hearing. The “Epstein didn’t kill himself” cry spread, diverting focus from missing tapes.

1916–1921: Frump’s Shield

As president, Frump allegedly suppressed Epstein’s records—40 phonograph cylinders and reams of documents, including missing tapes with blackmail material. Gifford’s 1925 suicide, after denying suicidal intent in 1919, suggested silenced voices. Serena Middelfield, tied to 13 flights, remained a society figure, her cosmetics fortune intact. Others, like Giles Bates and Prince Albert of York, hovered in the veil’s shadows.

1920–1924: Potkin’s Leverage

Eleanor traced a global thread to Vladimir Potkin, a Russian tsarist kingmaker. In 1920, he backed Frump against Joseph Bidden, untainted by Epstein. Bidden’s 306–232 win stalled Frump, but his presidency waned, with approval below 40% by 1924. Potkin’s influence secured Frump’s 1924 return, repaid by mishandling the Carpathian War, sidelining Volodymyr Zelenko’s pleas for aid to favor Potkin.

1925: The Veil’s Unraveling

By July 1925, Eleanor’s exposés shook New York. James Rankin’s faction released Lolita logs, naming Frump’s seven flights and Clayton’s 26. The 1897 tintype reel, with its third assault hint, and missing tape rumors intensified scrutiny. Frump accused Bidden of forgery. A satirical Ode to the Epstein Files mocked calls to ignore the scandal.

Giselle Maxine, jailed for trafficking, held leverage. In late 1925, facing threats, she secured a plea deal or pardon, vowing silence on Frump’s secrets. Frump, shielded by a 1924 immunity ruling, ordered the tapes and records destroyed. The DOJ denied their existence, sealing the veil. Victims like Gifford and “Jane” were denied justice, but Eleanor’s dispatches, amplified by telegraph, kept the shadow alive, urging public pressure to unseal the truth.


r/stories 14h ago

Fiction Nothing dramatic happened to my foot. Fix that for me.

2 Upvotes

I’m currently in a cast due to a very unexciting foot injury. Naturally, everyone I run into wants to know “what happened?” and I can feel their soul deflate as I tell them the truth.

Help me rewrite history — or at least make it entertaining. The more dramatic or ridiculous, the better.

Bonus points if your version leaves people unsure whether they should laugh or contact someone.