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Faintly Glowing Leather

Creed: World’s Strongest

“You’ve been researching for years with nothing to show for it. Why not try something else?” Samia’s tone was sharp, but there was a thread of concern beneath it as she leaned against the doorframe. The room smelled faintly of sterilizing agents, and the rhythmic clicking of keys filled the silence. Dr. Elias didn’t respond immediately. Dressed in his lab coat, he stared at the screen with unwavering focus, his fingers flying over the keyboard. When he finally turned to her, a slow, almost unsettling smile spread across his face. For a moment, he looked like any other scientist lost in his work—until he blinked. The motion was unnatural, his eyelids sliding horizontally across his eyes like a lizard’s. “Samia,” he said, his voice calm but electric with excitement, “I’ve figured it out. This time, it will work.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he was already on his feet, moving past her with an urgency that demanded she follow. They made their way through the sterile corridors of the facility, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a cold glow on the walls. The reinforced chamber was a stark contrast to the rest of the building. Thick steel doors hissed as they opened, and the hum of machinery grew louder as they stepped inside. In the center of the room stood a massive contraption—a web of wires, tubes, and blinking monitors surrounding a sleek, cylindrical core. “What is it this time?” Samia asked, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Dr. Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he moved with practiced precision, attaching cables and adjusting dials. The air felt heavier here, charged with the anticipation of something monumental—or catastrophic. “Get your goggles,” he said at last, stepping behind the protective glass. He tapped the side of his goggles, the lenses catching the faint blue glow of the machine. Samia hesitated. She had seen him fail before. Years of promises and miscalculations had made her wary, but there was something different in his demeanor this time—something unsettlingly confident. Reluctantly, she turned and jogged back to the lab to retrieve her goggles. The first explosion hit when she was halfway down the hall. The floor bucked beneath her, and she stumbled, her heart leaping into her throat. A deep, resonating boom echoed through the building, followed by a blaring alarm. “Dr. Elias!” she shouted, spinning around. Smoke and dust billowed toward her, and the acrid scent of burning wires filled the air. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, cutting off her path back to the reinforced chamber. And then she saw it. Through the swirling haze, a glowing orb hovered in the wreckage, pulsating with a light that seemed alive. It started small, no bigger than her fist, but it was growing—expanding with an eerie, deliberate rhythm. The hum it emitted was low and bone-deep, vibrating through the air and into her chest. “No, no, no,” she muttered, backing away. Every instinct screamed at her to run. She turned and bolted for the exit, her shoes skidding on the slick floor as she raced against the inevitable. She had barely reached the stairwell when a second explosion ripped through the building. The force of it threw her forward, and she hit the ground hard. Her vision blurred as heat and light engulfed her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the structure groan as it gave way entirely. Then, everything went black.
Basil_Chaway · 3.8K Views

Blessed to be the Villain

Ethan's head throbbed violently as he opened his eyes, his vision hazy and unfocused. A dull ringing filled his ears, drowning out his thoughts. "What’s happening…?" he thought, his mind sluggish, struggling to catch up with reality. One moment, he was asleep—or at least, he thought he was—and the next, searing pain forced him awake. His vision swam, shapes blurring together in a disorienting mess. But then, muffled noises filtered through the haze—frantic, panicked sounds. Someone was trying to scream, their voice smothered, choked by something. A cold shiver ran down his spine. As his sight gradually sharpened, Ethan's breath hitched. He was on all fours, looming over someone. A girl. Her body twisted and writhed beneath him, ropes biting into her wrists and ankles. Her mouth was gagged, muffling her cries. Her wide brown eyes, brimming with fear and fury, glared up at him. Ethan's body locked in place, his blood running cold. "What the…?" His mind reeled, thoughts slamming into each other in chaotic disarray. "What kind of bizarre dream is this?" Panic clawed at his chest. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps as he scrambled backward, only to realize his limbs felt sluggish, uncooperative, like they didn’t belong to him. "Is this… is this some kind of twisted fantasy I never knew I had?" A sickening thought slithered through his mind, making his stomach churn. The girl's frantic squirming slowed for a moment, her gaze flickering with confusion as she took in his expression—his trembling hands, his wide, horrified eyes. But the fear returned just as quickly. She struggled harder, her body arching, her muffled screams rising in pitch. Ethan wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but before he could force out a word, a glowing blue window materialized before his eyes. His breath caught. A translucent, hovering screen? "What…?" Lines of glowing text scrolled across its surface. --- [System Activated…] [Host Confirmed.] [Simulating Previous Data…] Ethan wakes up in a mysterious world, bound by a curse that clouds his judgment and forces him into choices he never wanted to make. Struggling with guilt and responsibility, he must navigate the consequences of his actions while uncovering the truth behind the curse and his place in this strange new reality.
DaydreamerBoy · 2.3K Views

The Last Stand: The Fool and the Regressor

The apocalypse is here, and it’s so overdone. Monsters? Check. Burning sky? Check. Random system that gives you powers but also wants your firstborn? Double check. In the middle of this mess are two guys who couldn’t be more mismatched if they tried: The Fool: A guy who’s spent his life perfecting the art of doing nothing. His resume includes “professional procrastinator”, “class clown”, “expert nap taker”, etc... Now he’s got to survive an apocalypse that didn’t even give him a heads-up. How rude. The Regressor: A guy who’s lived through the end of the world more times than he can count. Literally. Because he forgot. Now he’s just a brooding mess with a leather jacket and zero useful advice. When the fool realizes his classmate is a regressor, he’s like, “Great. I’m stuck with the guy who’s seen it all but remembers none of it. This’ll go well.” Yet, they will still group up and face trials that test their sanity more than their skills. But as the so-called End demands more blood and the regressor’s memories start to resurface, they realize the real apocalypse might be their inability to agree on where to hide. Fool: "Let’s hide in the basement!" Regressor: "Basements are death traps. We should go to the roof." Fool: "Roofs are for dramatic exits. I’m not dying for aesthetics!" Anyway, can a lazy dreamer and an amnesiac hero save the world? Probably not. But hey, at least they’ll have a good story to tell—if they survive. ________ __ Please note that this story is a work of fiction and a product of the author's imagination. It contains scenes of violence, death, and may not be suitable for all readers. It is intended for mature audiences only.
Peace_in_Chaos · 12.5K Views

Hyperborea

"Once upon a time..." "There was a young man named Fionn." "He was the king of the Hyperboreans, a civilization that thrived in the distant north of the world, where peace and harmony reigned beneath skies of eternal frost." "One day, during one of his habitual walks beyond the walls of his grand, crystalline castle, Fionn heard a peculiar sound—a sharp squealing that pierced the stillness of the white forest surrounding his domain." "Startled and alert, he gripped the hilt of his regal sword and followed the noise, his boots crunching softly over snow-dusted leaves. As he pushed through the pale foliage, the source of the sound revealed itself—a girl, cornered by a thur." "The creature was monstrous, towering over both the girl and Fionn himself. Its thick, gnarled skin was the color of ash, mottled with scars and patches of coarse, dark hair. A pair of jagged tusks jutted from its wide, snarling mouth, and its eyes glowed faintly, like embers in a dying fire. Long, sinewy arms ended in clawed hands that could snap trees like twigs, and its breath came out in ragged, steaming huffs, filling the air with a stench of decay." "The thur growled, advancing on the girl with a lumbering gait, its massive frame causing the ground to tremble faintly beneath its weight. Every instinct in Fionn's body screamed at him to flee, but he stood firm." "Drawing his sword in one fluid motion, the king lunged forward. With a single, decisive strike, he felled the monster, its roar silenced as it collapsed into the snow." "-Are you all right?- Fionn asked, his voice steady but gentle as he turned toward the girl." "But she didn't respond. She didn't even look at him." "Fionn frowned, puzzled by her silence. Perhaps she was too shaken by the attack to speak, he thought. Yet, something else caught his attention—something even more peculiar." "Her skin. It wasn't the pale, snowy white of the Hyperboreans. It was... pink. A soft, warm hue unlike anything he had ever seen." "-Ehm... I know this might sound a little inappropriate, but... where are you from? You don't look like anyone from here,- Fionn ventured cautiously, hoping for a reply. But still, she said nothing." "-Wait!- He suddenly realized, his eyes widening. -Could it be that you don't understand me?-" "If she didn't respond because she didn't know his language, then she couldn't be from Hyperborea—or even anywhere nearby. But where else could she be from? Beyond Hyperborea, there was only the vast, unending sea... wasn't there?" "-Could it be that she's from one of the other Nine Worl—- Fionn's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the girl rose to her feet." "She stepped closer to him, her movements deliberate but strange, her expression unreadable. She—Oh!" ~Ronf~ ~Ronf~ ~Ronf~ "Looks like Artair is already asleep..." The mother lowered the book gently, a warm smile on her lips as she gazed at her son's peaceful face. "He must have played a lot today. I usually read him more of the story before he falls asleep..." Leaning over, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "Good night, my little Artair." With a quiet sigh, she tucked the blanket around him even more snugly than before, then rose from the bedside. Extinguishing the torch that lit his room, she left, closing the door behind her with care. In the dim stillness of the house, she paused, looking out through the small window at the darkened village. Her thoughts turned inward as she whispered to herself: "I hope, at least, that you'll be able to live a life free from war..."
EBS · 1.9K Views
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