Tomorrow Never Comes - The Pilot Program 2020

Welcome to this month’s Pilot Program contender for 2021. If this is your first time reading anything from The Pilot Program, it works something like this: Every year I publish a 52 week short story series on this blog. And since 2019, I publish almost every month a new short story pilot which could become the short story series for the next year. How? With your likes, comments, shares, and views. So, if you like it: share it, comment, like it, discuss it and it could become the next 52 week short story series. This is the second short story in The Pilot Program this year after January’s The Horrorscope. So, hope you enjoy it.

“Tomorrow you will die.” A fortune teller told me yesterday. And now I don’t know what to do anymore, I’ve called my family, all my friends that meant something to me, told the one I liked that I liked them and now what? She read my fortune thrice, and every single time somehow the same results appeared in front of us. The same dreaded cards, not one slight variation. What are even the odds? Maybe I should try today too… But what if I am killed on my way? Shit… Then what if I did a reading of my own? If I remember correctly mom left a deck of cards in the upstairs cupboard. I was right it seems… Let’s try this. How did it go? You ask a question, then shuffle them to transfer your energy into the cards. Okay, now… If I remember correctly you need to put the cards face down. So the first one is upright, the next one is horizontal over the first one, like a plus. Next one is above, then under, then to the left and to the right. Now the last four going upwards…. Now, to read them…

How did she do it? She took the second card off and turned the first one. Let’s see… The Devil, she said that this could mean like four things for me right now in the present. The six of swords. Shit! It’s repeating itself. So that means, experiencing the blues. So those are the present and what’s impacting me, the next one is my consciousness. The four of pentacles. Great. The unconscious is? Nine of swords, so depression, anguish, suffering. What’s behind me in the recent past? King of Pentacles. Everything is repeating once more, this too. So what lies ahead? Eight of cups. No! Why? Growing weary. Shit! Then that means that the lesson I should learn is… Ten of Wands, of course, to struggle. And that means that the world sees me as… Four of cups, obviously, self-absorbed. And the last two must be just like last time too… The Tower, a sudden change and destruction and the last one is Death. God damn it! And none of this tells me what exactly to look out for.

Did I hear something fall? In the kitchen? Everything seems fine. In the living room? No, everything is fine here too. Basement? What if someone broke in? What if that’s how I die? Why is it so dark in here? I hear the police siren. You know what? I’m not going down there. Let’s just lock the doors. That’s one… That’s a second… That’s a third. Now, that feels better. I’m all a sweat. Why? Why am I sweating? What’s wrong with me? Am I having a heart attack? No one will find me, I need to unlock the door, call an ambulance. There’s a knock on the door… Why is there a knock on the door? Who is it? I’m not expecting anyone. Are they here to kill me? I’m dead, aren’t I? Who’s there? Why aren’t they responding? Why do they keep knocking? I said… Who is there? What the fuck… What the fuck… I don’t want to die. I need to see who it is…

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

The Horrorscope - The Pilot Program 2020

Welcome to the 2020 Pilot Program. If this is the first time you are reading this, well, let me explain how the pilot program works. I am going to post each month a new short story, and you decide whether in 2021 this is going to become a year weekly saga. Last year we had Attropolis, this year we have the winner of the first Pilot Program, I Write Sins… Not Tragedies. Through your likes, comments, shares, views, and general engagement is how you are deciding the story of the next year. So, if you really like this one share it, like it, comment, and have people read it. Now let’s get into this first one.

Fate’s a bitch, and I hate her, I mutter to myself as I watch that day’s horoscope. It’s been ten years since it last happened, and here we are again. They predict that another wipe will commence soon. I swear, these assholes like to see the world burn and chaos take over. Every year since then they predicted it, and yet, nothing happened. As these thoughts rush through my head, a stench reaches my nose. Ugh, my felt smells again, I utter as I put my nose to my arm to smell it. Disgusted I go into the bath room and start a bath, like every single day. At least I ain’t got no horns, or a fish tail, I think to myself as I catch a flea trying to jump off me. Now fucking wonder why I itch like this. When the fuck did I get these on me? I ask exasperated. Where was this in yesterday’s horoscope? You might have gotten fleas from some idiot that can’t be bothered to shower. Annoyed, I go check that day’s fortune, before bathing.

“You benefit from a lighter, fresher perspective after heavy energy recently…” Bullshit, I say while continuously scratching myself. “You feel freer and more spontaneous as you interact with others, whether in person or through writing.” Right, sure, whatever. “There can be interesting things to learn from a sibling, classmate, child, or friend.” Sounds nice, but then again, I’m stuck here. And no one ever comes to visit. “News from a love interest could be pleasantly unexpected.” Oh, hear that Handy? I ask whilst laughing. We’re going to learn and find something new about you today. I continue laughing as I move towards the bath. A violent knock on the door. Open up! A voice shouts. Bewildered and curious, I wait a second as another few hard knocks hit the door and the voice shouts again asking to open the door. I try to peek through the peephole, but all I see is black. I said open up, already! I fling open the door, ready to fight whoever is in front of me. A red claw grabs my neck and lifts me up.

Now, now, that’s no way to treat a friend and a brother. Unable to breath properly, I raise my hand and flip him off. You’re right, I’m sorry for being so rude, he says as he hugs me. You know I mean you no harm, but then again, you’re always so rambunctious. I scoff and ask him what he wants. Look, I need your talents. Hearing this leaves me baffled. What talents? What are you talking about? He smiles, looks around, sees that the TV is on. Oh, well. I think you did hear what they said, right? And I assume you heard your horoscope, didn’t you? Well, of course you have. He says whilst laughing. Someone is trying to replicate what happened ten years ago. Basically, they want to tempt fate. In my head questions start to bubble up and my mouth starts to ask. Replicate? How? How do you tempt fate? He smiles once again. That’s what I want to ask you. As you can see, we each are born with a feature of our zodiac sign. I have this disgusting crab arm, you have your hairy upper body. We don’t die, except when… Well, you know… When all the members of a zodiac sign suddenly die. And that’s why we need you…

If you liked it and want more, don’t forget to share it, like it, comment. Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO