A Note of Death An Unofficially Unlicensed Short Story

Hey, Ry. Is that what we should call you now? Ry? asks G. Yes. And I shall call you G from now on. I find it rather fascinating and though a bit confusing, yet fascinating, says Ry. Why do I get a letter but you get two now? asks G. R sounds boring, Ry sounds more mysterious. I like it more, says Ry. Say, Ry, have you ever thought of diversifying the places you visit? asks G. What do you mean? asks Ry. Have you tried the old continents? asks G. Hmm… Never really thought of it much. Used to have a lot of fun there a hundred years ago or so. Brilliant idea, G. I shall bring you a golden apple or maybe one of those green ones, says Ry as he takes off. Did you really have to do that? You know what may be waiting for him, says De. Oh look at you, two letter brothers holding out for each other, says G as he too takes his leave. You know you can simply not play the game if you do not like it, G, says De.

Some months later…

Tsk, he says as he leaves. With a frown on his face he looks down at the ground and in front of him a booklet seems to appear. The black cover, the text on it seems unreal. Pick it up, a voice commands him. As he leans down he sees the weird text and picks it up. Opening the notebook he sees a bunch of rules written down. He starts to flip through the book as he sees torn pages, names, Japanese writing he does not understand, some ripped pages. Well, what do you think? asks Ry as he stands in front of him. He looks up to see those wicked eyes, those long arms, the weird wings, and a smile to not be forgotten. Is any of this real or did I finally lose it? he asks. Why aren’t you freaked out? Usually people do not find my particular style appealing, says Ry. I don’t have an answer for you that won’t sound depressing, so let’s just say I’ve seen some stuff, he responds. So, what does a failed… Everything… Have in mind with that notebook? I have been watching you for a while clicking your tongue at this and that. You are rather fascinating. Smart enough to know when someone or something is wrong, but not smart enough to know how to use it to gain the power you seek, says Ry. So you are giving me a chance at wish fulfillment with this, is what you are saying, he responds. Clever, knew you’d understand. Yes, that is exactly what I am giving you. Now give me a show, I can see the gears turning inside that pretty little head of yours. It’s all I can ask for. Well, that and apples, says Ry. We’ve got a deal, he says as he rips an empty page from the notebook and stuffs it in his pocket.

I have some questions, he says to Ry. Can’t you simply use it and find out exactly what it does? asks Ry. Do you want a show or a whimper? he retorted. Fine, but you better give me something great in return, says Ry. Does anyone else have this type of notebook right now, right here on this planet? he asks. Not that I know off. Right now it’s only me, says Ry. You know, I heard about this notebook. It was all over the news here too when things went down in Japan. That must have been a fun time for you, he says. Mmm, yes. So it was, says Ry. I have a question about you. What are you? A god of death? You look different from the gods I read about. And what are you powers? Can you see my lifespan? Can you kill me? Or do you just observe? he asks. Yes, you could call me that. And let’s just say I can do lots of interesting things, responds Ry. So, I’ll take all that as a yes. Good, let’s get you some apples and let me buy some stuff to test what writing is, he says. Aren’t you ever going to ask me for my name? asks Ry. Why? I’ll make history, you’ll have your show and besides, you’ll be gone soon either way, he responds. So quite a grand plan you must be having to be done with this so soon, says Ry. Well, if what I think works, then yeah. It’ll be short, but it’ll be a blast, he says smirking.

Here are your apples. Bought a few kilos, hope they’ll keep you satiated for a while, he says as he sits down at his desk. What’s that weird glossy paper for? asks Ry. You see, with this paper you can write on it, put it over another piece of paper and it will nicely copy everything from one to the other, he explains. Oh, now that’s impressive, says Ry. You see, when things were happening over there I always thought he was inefficient. Of course you are going to get caught with pinpoint precision if your scope is that shallow. But then again, he was a teenager. Maybe if he had time to mature a little his scope would’ve broaden. That’s why I promised you a big show with a loud bang, but with a quick sendoff, he explains. Well consider me intrigued, says Ry as he bites an apple in half. He takes a pen, writes down a name and presses then the paper to the notebook. Oh, an actor. That’s very brave of you as a first death to note down, says Ry. Well, I have to see if it works quickly, he responds as he opens Twitter. Interesting strategy. Glad to have picked you, says Ry. That’s high praise. Thank you, he responds as the name of the person pops up and is trending a few minutes later. Bingo! Now onto the next test, he says with pride.

What’s that? asks Ry. A printer. But more specifically an ink printer. So, let’s see if this works, he says as he prints on that thin paper and then applies it to the notebook. This is what you meant to test what writing is, says Ry. Exactly. And if this works, we’re going to be doing this tonight and when the sun will shine, tomorrow morning, you’ll probably be leaving me with a changed world, he responds. As he finishes that sentence that name starts to trend as well. Perfect, he says. So what now? asks Ry. Now I am going to get a VPN, setup a virtual machine, start an excel sheet. And then write the name of every politician, every criminal that is known right now to have caused death or any harm to people and that is pushing and marginalizing large groups of people. But, they are going to be randomized on each type of this page and then put down in this notebook. And when the sun rises, we’ll have thousands of criminals dead. Not that I’ll know what will happen afterwards. Not that I’ll know how the world will react to it all. Not that I know if this will change anything for the better. But sure as hell this will send a message out there and some form of wicked justice will prevail for now, he says. You know, you could do this over and over again, if you wished so, says Ry. No, once is enough. I just might kill the wrong person or dig myself into a hole. I don’t want that. I want to see what effect this will do, if any. If there are other dictators to rise out of this situation, if the people do not take charge of this opportunity, then there is truly no hope for us as a species, he says.

After a long night, the skies slowly start to lighten up. So, are you ready god of death? he asks with a bunch of freshly printed papers ready to press them down in the notebook. As ready as I’ll ever be, says Ry with a devilish smile on his face. Well, after testing how many names on a page will work, I think this will be smooth sailing, he says while laughing after turning on the TV on a news channel to see the chaos unfold in real time with Twitter also opened on his monitor. Slowly but surely the news starts to come out that dictators, government officials, police officers, prime-ministers, oligarchs, corrupt news show presenters and every type of other criminal starts dying. One after another, the news cycle and the internet can’t keep track of the many deaths that are occurring. Whether it’s accidents or suicides, it seems chaos is completely taking over the world. Ry starts laughing. Incredible. You are truly incredible. So much death. So much confusion. Oh to think someone could pull all of this off, says Ry enthusiastically. Well, here you go, he says after scribbling on the piece of paper he ripped out from the notebook. What? asks Ry. I promised you a show. You got a show. Here’s your notebook. I have to burn this papers together with my laptop and printer. Enjoy the chaos, he says. Ry remains baffled at everything that is happening. As he throws the papers into the fire, together with it is the paper from the notebook which states that he should die 15 minutes before his lifespan is to end in sleep.

Hope you liked this longer short story based on a popular story for which I do not have the rights to, which is why I changed names and never really named anyone directly from that series. But Shueisha, if you wanna do a collab on this, I’d love it. Because I can easily expand this story in a manga format, if you can borrow me some talent that can draw. I wanted to write this because I had this idea while thinking what I’d do, if I had that coveted notebook and it seemed like a cool idea that remains very open ended in a way.

Hood: A Dead Man Walking - The Pilot Program 2022

A gunshot is echoing in the warehouse. Silence… Then a scream of a man followed by even more gunshots. Where is he? Don’t let him escape! screams a burly man. You must be mad to get yourself in this warehouse alone with us, says a tall man with a beard and a gun in his hand. The lights go out, a man starts screaming. The two start shooting. They see a shadow. The tall man follows the shadow with his gun shooting at him. Without realizing, the tall man shoots the burly man. As the burly man falls, from behind him jumps the man in the hood onto the tall man, throwing him on the ground and disarming him. Who are you? asks the tall man. They say justice is… Blind… But I’m not justice. I’m vengeance… With bloody fists, a heavy breath and a dozen man downed, the man in the hood said as he walked away from the warehouse with police sirens getting closer and closer. Log 045. The warehouse by the docks was a bust. Only drugs and small arms, nothing related to the location of Death’s Head. The info we got last week was correct, yet it was not what I was looking for. Note to self, find better informants, says the hooded man as he closes his audio log and gets on his bike. Years in the fucking FBI and all I could get was this lousy informant and a warehouse full of drugs when that mad man is killing thousands and gaining power by the minute, the hooded man thinks to himself as he drives home.

Morning, Craig. What happened to your hands? asks John. Well, you know sparring, training and I blew off some steam, says Craig. Looks like you blew out a fuse not just some steam, don’t you ever take a break? asks John as he leans on the desk. This is me taking a break, says Craig jokingly. By the way, have you heard about the news? It seems a lunatic in a hood went in Death’s Head’s warehouse, beat up like fifteen guys, then called the police on the whole operation. James and Chuck are down there right now taking on this case, says John. Man in a hood, huh? says Craig as he touches his bruised knuckles. Craig, I have something for you, says Arthur. This is my cue to leave, says John. Here, says Arthur as he hands me a folder. Craig opens the folder and starts looking through it. What am I supposed to do with all this information? asks Craig. That’s exactly your job now. We must find a way to find the fuckers that planted those bombs in the subway stations. You have there locations, firms, names, addresses and we need to get a lead on this. Any lead, honestly, says Arthur. What the rest of the squad doing? asks Craig. They’re still interviewing people from the scenes. Workers, people in the vicinity, cameras, forums, the usual, says Arthur. Why me? asks Craig. You always had a broader perspective and we might need that, if we’re to find who’s behind this, says Arthur. Understood. Thank you and I’ll get on it, says Craig.

Ten thousand dead and many more injured as the major New York subway stations were targeted with bombs by a terrorist attack. Black smoke from the underground is pouring into the surface as police try to evacuate the zone and first responders prepare to go down. We go down to our live correspondent… Craig… Craig… John pulls on Craig as he thinks back on what happened in early February. What? Sorry, I was thinking, says Craig. Can you believe it? James let those fuckers down at the docks go. It seems they had contracts that stated that they shouldn’t go inside the warehouse unless it was an emergency, so technically they weren’t involved in the drugs that were handled there, says John. That sounds like fucking bullshit to me, says Craig. And guess who I have to go after? The hood, says John. What? asks Craig as he touches his knuckles. Yeah, it seems they deem the hood worse than literal fucking henchmen for a drug and arms dealer, says John. Motherfucker… says Craig as he gets up from his desk and leaves. Where are you going? asks John. I have something to do, says Craig. As Craig gets to the parking lot, he opens the compartment of his bike, takes out the bloody hood, changes into it and leaves. James, you corrupt piece of fucking shit. You wanna throw down? I’ll be there to take you and your whole operation down by force, says Hood.

And if you liked the short story, want to read more of it. Then you can comment, like and share it, that way it can be read by more people and it can become the story of 2023. And want to support the blog and keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Kaiju: A World of Giants - The Pilot Program 2022

Would it be better if you weren’t born in the first place? she asks. Yes, absolutely! This is a nightmare. I live in a country whose giant monster is a dog-headed bat that lives in a black sea that is actually blood. The neighboring country has a giant black crow that spews green bile acid and in that other half of the world there’s a giant plasma breathing lizard. And I don’t know if you noticed, mom, but we live mostly underground out of fear of those giant creatures. I’d love to see the sun sometimes, you know? I ask as I take my leave. My watch rings and I answer it. Where are you going? asks Tomiris. Out. I am tired of this, I respond. Cinane, please don’t. You know what happened last time. You need to find some other way to vent your frustrations than running head first into danger, says Tomiris. And what exactly should I do? I did the survival thing, I did self-defense, I even wanted to try the military and they wouldn’t let me join. And I can’t leave this place, since my life has been predetermined ever since they knew my gender. And if I get out of line, I’ll just get punished, which you know it’s bullshit, I keep ranting. Have you tried knitting? she asks while laughing. You know I can’t stay in one place for too long, I tell her. Please Cinane, don’t make us more problems, she says. I’m not making you any problems, I lash back as the call stops abruptly. The earth begins to shake, a screeching roar is heard thundering the earth and skies.

The alarm starts blasting throughout the city. Beware of the giant Please evacuate the surface area and retreat underground! The alarm system blasts and repeats itself as the ground shakes with each step the giant takes. It shouldn’t be so inland, I tell myself as I look at people calmly coming down from the above areas talking and going about their day like nothing is happening. I can’t believe that these assholes got so used to live underground for thousands of years that they treat this so lightly, I tell myself as I start going the opposite direction of the crowd. Where are you going? someone stops to ask me. I forgot something a level up, I respond. It’s dangerous, he says as he turns and leaves like it’s none of his business anymore. What a weirdo, I tell myself as I go up the stairs. Something must be wrong for it to be here, says a man dressed weirdly. Maybe it feels threatened by the neighboring kaiju, says a man dressed in a nice suit. Why would it be? asks the weirdly dressed man. I don’t know, I’m not a scientist, you are. You tell me what is it doing here, says the man in the suit. I don’t know yet. We have yet to interpret its cries. And unlike a certain empire we’re friends with, we have not started yet experimenting trying to have biometric tech on it, says the scientist. And why not? asks the man in the suit. I am not going to say anything, because I do value my job here, says the scientist. Fine, do as you please, but figure this out, says the man in the suit as he leaves.

What’s going on here? I ask myself in a whisper. I start running trying to get past the scientist. Wait! Where are you going? he asks in a panicked tone. Up! I respond as I run past him. No, you’re not, he says as he catches me by the hand. Shouldn’t someone as handsome as you be doing something else then catching ladies in distress trying to escape their hellish lives? I ask in a sarcastic tone. No, I don’t wish to be an accomplice to a suicide, if you don’t mind, he responds. I do mind, I tell him as I try to yank my hand out of his grip. Where do you want to go? he asks. Out. I want to see it. I want to see the proper outside world. I don’t want the life they chose for me, I tell the scientist. And you think dying out there is a better alternative? he asks. Yes, but I won’t be dying. I did train to survive, I do know self-defense and one of my idols is Belane, the woman that roamed the four continents alone. So, I’ll think I’ll be fine, I tell the scientist. His face turns sour after hearing what I had to say. Listen. You do not know what is out there. We have discovered but 5% of what this planet has to offer. There are things out there might out of stuff of nightmares. Why do you think in two hundred thousand years no man left the tunnels and caves we live in? We’ve been sending drones to gather stuff for us, they brought back unimaginable things. I have no idea what’s out there and I work for a living studying the out there. You’ll suffer a faith worse than death, he says. Then that’s why I’m going, I tell him as I take his arm off mine. At least let me come with you, he says. I smile as I let go off his hand. Sure thing, I say with a smile as the ceiling of the cave crumbles near us and the dog headed bat screeches shaking the earth beneath us.

And if you liked the short story, want to read more of it. Then you can comment, like and share it, that way it can be read by more people and it can become the story of 2023. And want to support the blog and keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

RanKing - The Pilot Program 2022

My parents! My parent’s parents fought for me to be your king! I have fought to be your king! My birthmark shows it, their birthmark showed it. We are born with our destinies on our backs! We are made to fulfill our destinies! And there is no shame whether you’re upper rank, lower rank, a worker, a cook or a dish washer! My great great great grandfather was sweeping the streets, anyone can meet their destiny. I memorized his whole speech, says Edwin. And thus the golden age began, says Dante. Exactly! Rancore, the strongest man to have ever lived had managed to bring peace to a world at war. A world without a strongest contender, says Edwin. My guy, we know. We have heard it so many times coming from your mouth. I wasn’t encouraging you, I was just showing you that we know what your next word is going to be, says Dante. Do you think he had some kind of magic? It was a few hundred years ago when he managed to roam the world to bring it to its knees, says Edwin. I don’t know. Are our birthmarks magic? asks Dante. They’re not magic, says Arthur. Then what is it? asks Dante. It’s genetics. Each person has it’s DNA, that DNA leaves an imprint in the skin. It’s that simple, says Arthur. Then how do you explain the symbols? That’s a language, right? It has to be something special? asks Edwin. It’s you. It’s your noggin. It’s how your DNA reacts to your brain impulses. Read a book, you two, says Arthur as he leaves. Always the smart one, says Dante.

What do you think his ranking is? asks Edwin. I don’t know. Never asked him. He looks average, says Dante. And you don’t? asks Edwin. Listen, I’m in top 5 strongest and I’ll probably get in top 4 soon enough, says Dante. Yeah, top 5 billion, maybe. We’re still teens, there are so many people that could simply crush us like we’re watermelons, says Edwin with a grim look on his face. Ever the courageous man, aren’t you? asks Dante. Take a seat everyone, says the teacher as he enters the classroom. Oh right, history. Great, says Dante as he takes a seat. Today we’re gonna continue on with our lesson on armed conflicts. As you know, weapons aren’t really used, since they’re quite often useless against the higher ranks. So when we are talking armed conflicts, we do mean literal armed conflicts. Massive conflicts between people and their bare hands. And we have detailed stories of many of our ancestors battles along the years before the golden age Rancore brought with his might. So today we are going to talk about a few of those armed conflicts before and after the golden age, says the teacher. Edwin raises his hand. Yes, Edwin? asks the teacher. Why were there conflicts after the golden age? asks Edwin. Because Rancore was told to have had many children. Which only sparked a lot of conflict. Sadly not much is known since he was a very private man, says the teacher.

But that doesn’t make sense. What about his birthmarks? Couldn’t they have looked at that? asks Edwin. No. Rancore was never really seen in a state of undress. He was mostly alone during his travels. And after his conquest he never really bothered with politics, leaving these decisions to the people. So he was less seen once the golden age began. Even so, the most we have are pictures after descriptions people had of him. A big smile, a glorious moustache that couldn’t be rivaled. Kind eyes yet a fierce looking body that would make him feel menacing. But that’s the extent of his description from our history, says the history teacher as the classroom door is kicked down. Everyone stay calm, says a man with a black beard. We’re here for Arthur, the young man of legends, he says as he puts his goons to detain the class. The teacher raises his fists, and so are the rest of the students. Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you guys, says the bearded man. The teacher jumps to punch one of the goons, only to get knocked down and break the his table. The rest of the student body jumps to Arthur’s defense only to get easily pushed and kicked back down. Told you. Now, Arthur, we can do this the easy way… Or the hard way. But either way, you are coming with me to do what your great great grandfather did before you and bring a new golden age.

And if you liked the short story, want to read more of it. Then you can comment, like and share it, that way it can be read by more people and it can become the story of 2023. And want to support the blog and keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

There is NO ME - The Pilot Program 2022

For those that don’t know how I choose the short stories for each year, I don’t. You do. Every year for the first eight-nine months I post one extra story part of The Pilot Program where you read, share, like and comment on the stories. The most popular becomes the short story series for the next year. The winner of The Pilot Program 2020 was The Horrorscope, the winner for the 2021 was JACK and now you have the chance to choose the short story for next year. Hope you like There is NO ME.

The Ship of Theseus ponders if you replace every wooden board and every single piece of a ship over the years. Is it still the same ship? But what of me? Am I me? I think to myself looking at the ceiling right after waking up from a nightmare. I hear an explosion as I get up from the bed. They are still going at it, I tell myself as I look for my cat. There you are, I say as I watch it stretch. Are you still you this spring now that you shed your old fur? Or are you some other mischievous little guy? I ask him as I pet him. I hear another explosion followed by my windows shaking, as I look at my cat going to its food bowl. You aren’t even scared anymore, brave little guy, I say to him as I reach for his food. I put food in his bowl and turn around to turn on the air filters as the black smoke from the explosions and fires reach the apartment. I hear a knock on the door, I go to look through the viewfinder. I see two burly men dressed in black holding something behind their backs. What the fuck, I whisper as I reach for my airsoft shotgun. Who is it? I ask. We’re with the insurance company, says one of the man. Fuck off or I’ll blow your fucking brains off, I scream at them. Fucking bitch, I hear them mutter as they pull out their baseball bats and leave. It’s the third time this month they came to this apartment complex, I know them by their stench now, I mutter to myself.

Raiders, vigilantes, rioters, protesters, cops, military and then the politicians are fueling the fire that is burning this city down slowly, but surely, I tell myself as I turn on the stove. I can’t remember the last meal I had where the food didn’t have a slight taste of ash or iron, I mutter as I look at the eggs I made without any appetite to eat them. My phone buzzes and as I pick it up to look at the notification another explosion shakes the city. Great, my skin cream arrived, I just need to pick it up. I can finally patch this skin without the need to staple it back together every time my windows explode into pieces, I say as I get up happy to have a motive to get out of the apartment. As I get dressed I remember my mother, so I reach for my phone to call her. Hello? she asks in a raspy voice. How are you, mom? It’s been a bit since we talked. Do you need anything? I have to go out and get my cream for the skin. Thought if you needed something, I could drop it off by you, I tell her as I hear her cough. I think we need a new air filter, it got really bad here with the fires and bombs. And your father can’t move as well until he receives his new muscle tissue next week, mom explained. Okay, I’ll get you some, since I think I’ll have to replace mine soon too, I tell her. But don’t you have work to do today? she asks. I do, but you know with the daily power outage, I can’t really do much until later. So we had our schedules changed, I explained. Oh, okay dear. Be careful and take care, she says. Will do, I try to reassure her.

Little Darkness, you take care too, I tell my cat as I step out of the door. Helmet, on. Keys, money, concealed gun, check. I forgot the bubblegum, so I guess I’ll have some ass kicking to do, I tell myself as I start laughing. Girl, you are crazy, I hear my neighbor lady say as I pass by her door. Morning, misses San, I say as I go down the stairs still laughing at my own joke. The ash would stick to the bottom of my shoe, like snow used to before this whole ordeal started. I miss snow and being able to walk around without a helmed, breathing the fresh air, seeing the sun clearly on the blue sky. Being able to go out whenever you wanted, not just when it was necessary. I tell myself as I reach the ground and look at the bike I haven’t used in a while that seems to be falling apart. So, on foot to the postal office it is, I mutter sad at myself. Weird how all these crazies decided to agree that the postal service, hospitals and grocery stores shouldn’t be touched, but the rest is free reign, I tell myself as I see a man approaching me. What a lucky day we have here, he says as he pulls out a gun. I pull out my gun and start shooting him. Oh baby, how nice it feels on this brand new body. Your rubber bullets ain’t going to do shit against me, he says as he puffs his chest out. Let’s just hope my backup brain is still synced and working, I tell myself as he starts running towards me. But just as he runs towards me, an explosion blows us both away

And if you liked the short story and want to support the blog and keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO