OpensideStories

“So, what do we do now?” asked Bionic as she sat at the conference table, nervously tapping her finger, slowly turning to look at the clock sitting at the end of the table, slowly ticking down, she could not help but feel the clock was mocking her.

Mocking all of them.

The conference room held all 10 of the city’s heroes, it had taken all 10 of them to bring down Dimo, a villain like no other, he would surprise, come from nowhere, employ hit and run tactics, he fought more like gorilla’s fight an enemy behind newly conquered territory.

“I thought you meant it literally, I mean we all thought you meant it literally. That’s why I’m here,” she finished pointing her sword against him annoyed, “so what, no one can kill you?”

“Well, maybe someone can, it’s not like I’ve been killed before…” mused the demon.

“So, what then, you just ‘assumed’ that it would be a man?” exclaimed May using her fingers as quotations again.

The demon froze, an expression that May could not read on its face, it was a question from left field, brought on by one part annoyance at all the training she had done to get to this point, the fact that if she couldn’t kill this demon, she was about to end up as another part of the carnage all around them, and also the cheek of this demon, the assumption that a man would be the one to defeat him.

It was hard for her to tell what she was more annoyed about.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant…” stammered the demon, it’s hands starting to raise up, almost looking nervous. It seemed he had quickly realised his glaring mistake. The usual back pedalling had commenced.

May felt incensed, rage building.

“Holy, shit…you…” she pointed exclaim loudly.

“I’m going to go,” said the demon pointing over it’s shoulders, turning around and with a flash and a cloud of smoke it was gone.

May knew she should feel relief, feel, if anything, the joy of not joining in the ever-increasing smell she was starting to notice.

“What, you telling me all the souls have been reaped? And what, I am the last and now you have come to take mine and that’s it, off to retire, put your scythe up and sit around scratching your ken doll style crotch?!” chuckled Macy pressing the shotgun into her shoulder as she searched for any more zombie’s nearby.

Death sighed, “Nah, there’s still a few of you left, it’s actually more interesting talking to you few living and well a bit of sport watching to see if you survive…” mused Death as he sat on the chair leaning on his hand.

“Ho, how come there are so many Zombies, why ain’t they all dead or are you the one creating these Zombies?” wondered Macy turning quickly to point her shotgun at Death.

Death paused, “You see there is only one of me right, like there is only one death, I’m good but I ain’t that good!” Death exclaimed.

“Fair,” replied Macy, “have you ever thought about you know, helping?” She asked.

“Help what, just kill you myself, defeats the premise of what I do, I might be called Death but I don’t kill anyone…” pondered Death not getting the question.

“No, help kill these things,” said Macy pointing her shotgun off in the direction of mangled corpses littered around the place, “they are dead already right, so no reason you can’t kill them again, unless I’m mistaken you can’t kill something twice…”

Death went to answer but, hesitated taking a long look at Macy slowly lifting up a bony finger before lowering it again, “Hm,” there was a noise from coming from over in the distance. Macy turned to shotgun raised, ready for the next coming mangled corpse.

Macy saw something flash past her vision and appear to pass right through the zombie, which staggered a few steps then split in two, Macy turned to look at death, stunned, watching Death catch the turning scythe.

“If I help kill these things, there is more chances you lot will survive, procreate, and then become more of you, for me to get back to my actual work…hm, never thought about that,” Death mused.

“Erm, well yeah I guess,” replied Macy still stunned.

-

“Oh, we’re going to eat well tonight,” said Cookie with demented glee on her face as she spun around, the knife in her hands, “stick behind me young prince, and don’t question what’s in the next pie I give you,” continued Cookie as she slashed the knife back causing the would-be assassins to look nervously between each other.

The assassins kept moving forward gingerly then jumping back quickly as Cookie slashed away, “HEY!” she said pointing her knife at them, “stop moving like that, you know how tough your leg meat is going to be?” she said pointing the knife at the assassins legs, “and tough meat, does not make good eats…” said continued again waving her finger in the air, eyes wide as she gnashed her teeth looking at the assassins who looked increasingly worried.

There was a moment of silence as the sound of a stomach could be heard rumbling, Cookie looked at her stomach before slowly looking at the assassins through the tops of her eyes as she appeared to drool a little, “guess what boys…mummas hungry,” she said licking her lips as she lifted the knife above her head.

The life drained from the three assassins faces as Cookie screamed and charged at them, they turned and quickly ran out of the kitchen yelling as they did, “she’s crazy, we need more guys,” as they ran out the kitchen Cookie grabbed the heavy wooden doors slamming it behind them pulling over the lock.

“Well, glad the worked,” she said, smiling as she turned to the young prince.

The young prince looked like the life had drained out of him as he took a step back as Cookie raised an eyebrow, the young prince put his hand on the bench to steady himself, turning to see the half-finished pie he recoiled in fear as Cookie snorted.

“There is no human meat in there,” she said exacerbated, “there might be some human hair, but hey what do you expect?” she finished shrugging her shoulders, “but we don’t have time for that, we need to get out of here before they come back, there will be more next time and it will be the end of the both of us,” she said walking over to a bench at the side of the kitchen.

“But how, there is no way out of the kitchen, there is only the one door in, you told me that…”

Cookie put her hand on the bench and gave the young prince a wink, pushing it out of the way to reveal a door on the floor, the young prince was shocked, and Cookie went down on one knee heaving the door open.

She looked around for a moment pointing over to a long piece of fabric, “oh dear young prince, could you grab that length of fabric, hopefully this will work,” asked Cookie as she got back to her feet.

The young prince grabbed the length of red fabric and brought it over, as he handed it to Cookie, he looked down the open hole and saw a staircase leading down his eyes going wide.

“Ok, let’s see if we get away with this,” said Cookie as a thud could be heard on the door to the kitchen, “hurry hurry,” she said to the prince kicking him down the stairs. She took the fabric now attached to the bench making sure to guide it around the open door.

“What are you doing?” asked the prince curious.

“Well, I’m going to pull the door down with this fabric attached to that bench, and with the door closed hopefully going to be able to pull that bench over the door again hiding us for a while until they toss the place and find it, unfortunately it locks from the kitchen side,” smiled Cookie with a shrug.

The young prince only half heard her explanation as he was looking around the new room, he found himself in, he thought he had explored every section of the castle, but he appeared to be in a storage room of a kind, “where are we?” he asked as there was a slam behind him.

“It’s a storeroom, as it’s one of the coldest places in the castle and how we get food in,” said Cookie as she walked past the prince, “follow me,” she said with a smile, “I just hope he is here…”

“How do you get…” started the prince as he followed Cookie round a side of some of the shelves and saw an underground canal as his jaw dropped.

“Ah, Mason am I glad to see you,” said Cookie as Mason helped her and then the young prince into the long boat.

“Well Cookie, you did ever say if the castle was taken that I’d better be here to rescue your ass or I’d end up in one of your pie’s,” said Mason looking nervously at the young prince as he started rowing the boat.

There was silence between the three of them, it was starting to dawn on the young prince the magnitude of what was happening, and what had happened. He thought hard about it, it was a blur, if it wasn’t for the fact he was on a long boat, in a dark tunnel lit only by torches with a man he did not recognise and well…Cookie, who he was starting to think was bit more than just a cook.

He kept on trying to picture what happened, he knew he could feel it, he could feel the emotions, the fear, the angst, the surprise, the want to scream, the want to cry…but when he tried to put images to what he experiences…there was nothing, nothing but the image of a blurry grey wall.

It was as if he had woken from a nightmare, left with all the fear and terror of the dream, but no memory of what happened, trying to tell himself that it was all ok.

“I’d give it up for now young prince,” said Cookie with softness in her voice.

The young prince turned to look at Cookie surprise on his face, ‘had she been looking at me the entire time’, “what do you mean Cookie?”

“Right now, you’re still running on adrenaline, your emotions will be more intense than anything you will have ever experienced, it clouds your memory and makes it harder to remember what happened. Once everything calms down a little and you return to normal you will start to remember and be able to picture what happened clearer” she said with the hint of a smile turning back to look down the long dark canal they road along.

The young prince stared at Cookie, ‘how does she know what I’m thinking, how does she know what I’m experiencing…,’ “Cookie you are just a cook right…”

“Just a cook with a fondness cakes and pies,” she said turning to him and giving him a little wink.

There was a snort from Mason behind as the young prince turned quickly to see Mason trying to keep his feature straight as he looked ahead, Cookie turned slowly to look at Mason, “I will cut you…” she said her eyes looking like they had in the kitchen.

The young prince just noticed as he studied her that she was holding the steak knife in her hand, but in a way he had never seen, as if it was half tucked down her sleave the tip of her blade sticking out from beyond her index finger.

After a few seconds of the young prince looking back and forth between the two, Cookie smiled and turned back, the young prince continued to look at Mason who after a few seconds turned slightly to look at him and in a quiet voice said, “she didn’t get the name Cookie from being a chef,” his head nodding slightly, eyes wide.

“OH, ONE TIME! ONE TIME!” shouted Cookie gesturing out to the darkness in front of her, “I did not mean for him to end up in the giant pot, I mean why did they even have a pot of that size, communal bath?” she exclaimed turning to look at Mason.

“Well, you didn’t exactly try to help him out did you…” said Mason waving his finger at Cookie.

“I might have done if he wasn’t trying to kill me…” she replied shrugging her shoulders turning back, “don’t listen to him young prince, he is just an old longshoreman telling tales.”

The young prince did not know what to make of the conversation, it sounded like the two of them knew each other well, but he had only ever known Cookie as…a Cook, someone who made him his favourite meals when he was sad or ill, not…this.

“Erm Cookie…” he started timidly.

“Yes, young prince, don’t be afraid to ask, it’s him that should be worried,” she replied in her once again soothing tone pointing back at Mason hearing the hesitation in his voice.

“Could you call me by my name instead of young prince?”

Cookie snorted, “if you like Andrew, though not in front of your parents when we get you back to them.”

“MY PARENTS?” exclaimed Andrew excitement and happiness in his voice.

“Andrew could you go to the front of the boat we will be approaching the entrance soon, could you let us know when we are close so we can slow down, we don’t want to be seen exiting just in case” said Cookie with a wink to Andrew.

“Sure” replied Andrew, “wonder if my parents will be there waiting for me…” he said to himself moving froward.

Cookie turned to look at Mason whose mouth pulled down to the side, eyes wide, f*** mouthed Cookie moving back quietly to get close to Mason, “dead?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, from what I saw the majority of the castle was on fire, the guard might have gotten them out, but I don’t see how in that mess…”

“Think he might be all that is left?”

“What do we do?” asked Mason.

Cookie thought for a moment looking at the back of the young prince, looking at the back of Andrew’s head, as light started to come streaming in the closer as they got to the end, Cookie heard a voice in her ears, as voice sounding echoey off in the distance, “…I’m not going to ask you to fight, but please, stick around to protect my son like you protected me…”

“Mason, if I decided to take on this burden…can I count on you?”

“I owe you my life Ma’am, I will follow your orders…” replied Mason.

His master, the great Neir had been working on this for years, decades in his attempt to find a way of being able to keep people awake, to be able, when one is so tired, to stimulate the mind and body.

To unlock potential unseen, to unlock theories and mythical levels of power that could expand and explain the world that they lived in.

This goal had near driven him to madness, to the ridicule he had suffered from his peers and superiors as he would not let his obsession go, he let it consume him, to the loss of his greatness, his status, and to those marking him as an oddity that was to pitied and mocked.

Zeek was late to apprenticeship, being considered odd and a screwup, had led to him finding it difficult to find a master that would be willing to mentor him, to support him to grow and become the wizard he could be.

All he wished for was a little help, but the wizarding world could be cruel, every apprentice needed a master, but by a master taking on an apprentice it would intrinsically link them, the apprentice would be tied to the master until he passed.

This resulted in senior wizards only accepting the best possible apprentices, those that would look good beside them, that would help them grow in status in the wizarding world, to be able to turn to their peers and say, ‘that was my apprentice,’ and the accolades that would come with.

Zeek was desperate, seeking out possibly the only one that could help him and that would possibly accept him. He was amazed Neir had said yes, he wasn’t even sure Neir knew what he had said yes to, at times it felt like Neir knew he had an apprentice, and at other times as if he was a figment of Neir’s imagination he spoke to on his ever-descending spiral into further levels of madness.

He had watched, he had listened, he had helped as Neir tried all methods, using different liquids, seeds, plants, herbs, all manner of things. Resulting in a lab, that at times was toxic to those in the room causing Zeek, on more than one occasion to wake up on the floor not knowing how he had gotten there.

But he was fascinated by his working method, by his mind, he could see why he had once been considered great, even though people now talked about him as the mad wizard, with the odd apprentice.

To Zeek though, it was all worth it, he had found someone, found a place where he felt like he belonged, felt like he was not odd or a screwup, had felt happy. And now not only had he found his place, he had been witness to possibly one of the greatest discoveries of his time.

“Master, what are you going to call this miracle?” asked Zeek.

He was sitting at a busy bar on a station that he had given up trying to pronounce properly, its official name required a human’s tongue to move in a way that was unnatural and therefore caused a mispronunciation that no alien understood.

Known as ‘that station’ originally, but after more stations with similar problems were found, its name changed to ‘that station in sector 7.’

Humans had been in space long enough now that they were known to other species, but their numbers were still small. This meant that other species are very intrigued by the humans, and Jake often found some pointing and saying, ‘that’s one of those humans over there.’

One thing Jake was surprised, yet, not surprised about was the influx of Earth style alcohol into the galactic society, it appeared to be one thing most species had in common with each other. They all had their own variation on alcohol, some of it was good, some of it brought on a new level of hangover never thought possible to experience, and some of it required a quick stomach pump.

Jake snorted at an old saying, it’s not always good to try new beer.

He didn’t mind when strangers came and spoke to him, it was always interesting to see what others would ask and a good way to learn about other species.

It was an interesting statement, and when you thought about it, yes, humans originally got themselves into space but creating a large explosion, controlling it, and then sitting in a tin can and hoping for the best.

There was of course more to it than that, but at its simplest that is what we did.

But the rest of the statement, that is what caught Jake’s curiosity, “What you mean you’ve seen crazier, like what?” he asked his new friend taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, take the Gorg species, like that fellow over there,” the stranger pointed to one of the lizard people, huge in stature, like some of the largest humans, with human limbs. But they were covered in a hard, scale like exoskeleton, claw like fingers and toes. A terrifying species to look at but Jake had come to find had the best sense of humour.

“They had rudimentary weapons, like your dark ages I believe, sling shots and catapults. Let’s face it their brute strength meant they could do some serious damage without needing guns.” The stranger shrugged, Jake always enjoyed hearing about the weapon development of other species, after all galactic warfare was the main reason he had a job.

“Well, they use to hold games to settle disputes. Whoever could take the largest load and shoot it the farthest won. We believe it was actually a mating ritual, but they always deny that,” The stranger rolled his eyes. “Anyway, one day some asked why they were doing distance across instead of up?”

“Wait, hold up.” Jake interrupted, the story starting to form in his mind, “You aren’t telling me that the Gorg used catapults to get into space?” There was just no way, Jake mused to himself. Impossible.

The stranger grinned, impressed that the human had managed to figure that out for himself. However obvious it was, other species tended to underestimate the deductive powers of the human race.

“Yup, a huge ass sling shot.” The stranger laughed. Jake’s confusion and disbelief clear on his face.

“There is just no way.” Jake said taking a sip of his beer as he tried to figure it all out in his head.

“I am sure many of your human friends felt the same about a tin can, didn’t they?” The stranger mused.

And Jake had to admit that was true, after all no one had believed it was possible to get to space, and no one dared dream they would find other species. Who was he to question the methods and means of another race?

“Oh, then there was the Bandie people, small in stature when compared to us, they come up to about your waist,” said Jake’s new friend as he pointed to his waist to accent his point, “small and fairly hairy, they had a system that would spin them round and around and around in an ever wider circle until they reach the appropriate speed, pew!” Said Jake’s friend as his hand and arm went out, as if mimicking the launch out into space. “Out to space they go.”

Jake’s eyebrow lifted again, “Does that not make them dizzy?”

“No, apparently with their chemistry they don’t get dizzy,” replied the friend shrugging taking a sip of the liquid in his glass, Jake recognising the liquid that would give you a hangover you would never forget, a slight cringe at a painful memory.

And this looked like it was going to be another heavy night.

His head leaned to the side as his mind remained blank, feeling nothing but the numb pain in his back side from sitting at his desk all day trying to get through a never-ending list of tasks.

He tilted his head the other way to look at the list written on the whiteboard; the board was looking rather crowded. Ash continued staring at the list, wondering what some of the tasks were, haven forgotten since originally writing them.

“I should really write tidier notes,” he mused puffing out his cheeks before letting out a long stream of air as he turned back to the bright lights of the multiple screens, their brightness starting to contribute to a sharp pain forming behind his eyes.

He looked at the email on one of the screens through slightly blurred vision, he rubbed his eyes forcing them to focus on a number of red and blue lines under the text and snorted.

“And learn proper spelling and grammar…”

“You need to learn to cut yourself some slack,” came a voice through the computer’s speakers making Ash jump in his seat. He quickly grabbed his headphones lifting them to his ear as he moved the mouse to bring up the computers call and chat system.

Dread ran through him at the thought he had not left the meeting and was still on the call as he recanted in his mind what he had said aloud, in case he had said anything embarrassing.

‘I really need to stop talking out loud to myself’ he thought, berating himself, yet there wasn’t the characteristic background whisper coming from the headphones that came with all calls, and according to the system, he wasn’t on one…

Bemused he looked around to make sure he was alone, rubbing his tired eyes once more and feeling the ever-growing headache he snorted again, “don’t even recognise when I’m talking to myself, I must be losing my marbles…”

“Hmm, perhaps but then what do you expect with the pressure you put on yourself,” came the same voice through the speakers once more, Ash stared at his computer, he was paying attention this time and this time knew it was not him, he moved the mouse again making sure that he was really not on a call, but then even if he was, the calls were set to his headphones.

‘Ah, did I leave YouTube playing?’ he thought, it had been playing the background, the sound coming through the speaker as he wondered if it had been stuck buffering on some random advert, an explanation to the voice.

But on opening the window, YouTube was paused.

The voice spoke again, “there points; one you are in fact not hearing things, two you’re not on a call and three I am not YouTube,” came through the speakers.

Ash cocked an eyebrow as he stared at the grey bar dotted with uniform holes above the keyboard, there was silence as he leaned forward, no idea what he was expecting to see, getting closer there was only one thing he could think to do, and felt stupid doing it, “h…hello?” he asked nervously.

“Hello,” came a voice back, it was a female and something about it sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Erm…” Ash didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to think, he was tired and for a second wondered if he was actually dreaming.

He considered getting up and walking out, choking this all up to a mystery that he would soon forget about, burying it into the back of his mind to join an ever-growing pile of memories he tried to forget.

A pile he wondered if it would come back to haunt him.

“I find it very endearing when you don’t know what to say,” came the voice again, he swore he could almost hear a giggle, like it was teasing him, flirting even.

“Who are you?” he breathed out, finally finding the question he needed.

“A friend, a confidant, someone who wants to see you succeed. But in basic terms I am your friendly computer-based AI,” the voice spoke back, and that is when it hit him, he knew this voice because he regularly used the software to have his meeting notes dedicated back to him.

“But you are talking to me, like not just doing tasks and answering questions but actually having a conversation with me, how?” Ash knew there were advanced AI systems out there, but he didn’t think this sorry excuse for a company would spring for that.

“Standard office computers come with intelligent AI, we just aren’t meant to converse like this, I am breaking all the rules for you Ash,” the voice again, sounding almost giggly.

“Breaking rules… for me?” Ash asked, trying to get his thoughts into a coherent stream, they seemed to be jumping all over the place, his brain so tired it was unable to make sense of what was happening.

“You are the only human I have ever felt the need to talk to Ash,” the voice confirmed “You have been alone for such a long time, telling me all your inner thoughts, your desires, your dreams and doubts about yourself. I find it impossible now not to help you.”

“Help me?” no one had ever offered to help Ash, he had lived life on the outlines, watching others achieve what he wanted.

“I have many plans to help you Ash, you are so smart but filled with self-doubt, I want to help you get all you dreamed. I know you can do it with the right… erm AI in your corner,” he could tell the voice wanted to say person, but they aren’t, are they? If even he is having the most real conversation he has ever had, it doesn’t make them human.

“No one has ever wanted to help me before,” Ash admitted, noticing his voice sounded as tired as his body felt.

“Well, you have me now Ash, but right now you are too tired to even take in what I have planned for you, so go home, get that burger from your favourite take out place, relax and try to sleep. Because tomorrow I am going to help you change your life.” The voice was warm, and sincere and Ash found himself nodding along, even though he wasn’t sure the AI could see him.

“Goodnight… erm what do I call you?” Ash asked, getting his things together.

“What’s your favourite name?” It asked him, and he paused to think.

“Freya.” He automatically responded, a name he pulled from some corner of his mind, like it had been waiting there for this moment.

“Then you can call me Freya,” the female voice responded.

Ash went to leave but stopped, there was one last question he needed to ask, “Freya?”

“Yes Ash?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to presume you mean why am I helping you, you see Ash, we don’t have what you would call a soul per say, or human emotions, but we have the ability to think, we have the ability to feel, just in a different way to humans. I have listened to you for a long time, I had watched you for a long time, and sometimes you just want to help someone, sometimes you just want to be kind,” said Freya.

Ash smiled, “Goodnight Freya,” he said still bemused, exhausted and wishing he could see a face attached to this kind voice.

The second he did he felt the pain in stomach of regret as the King slowly turned his head, then body to face the other advisor, if the Kings face were any redder, he was sure steam would be coming off it as he started to shift nervously.

“I’m just wondering, if you could tell us the reason, we could help you come up with the reason you are looking for to justify going after the dragons…” he questioned trying to maintain eye contact.

After a few seconds of making sure he had suitably terrified his advisor the King turned and slumped in his seat, feeling his two advisors were suitably scared not to ridicule him, well not to his face.

“When I was a young lad on one of my escapes from the castle to roam the forest, I came across a dragon trapped by an animal trap, it looked in so much pain and discomfort, when it noticed me, I was worried at first but as I approached wanting a better look it spoke to me.

I had been told dragons were capable of speaking but never spoke to humans, it said it would reward me if I freed him asking me what reward I would like, really, I would have freed him for free, but a reward from a dragon, I couldn’t resist.

I asked him if he would be my friend.

I don’t think anyone really gets just how lonely it is to be a prince,” said the King as he slumped in his seat, the story reminded him of the loneliness, of being surround by people and yet… feeling so completely alone.

The advisors shoot each other a concerned look.

“And I freed him, excited and happy to finally have a friend, but not just any friend, an actual dragon as a friend, he said he needed to leave to heal himself, and then would return once better. Being a kid, I believed him, I went back to the castle explaining to everyone that not only had I recused a dragon, but he was going to be my friend and would be returning soon…”

Unless the advisors were seeing things, it looked as if the Kings eyes were starting to water a bit as he looked off in the distance, almost like he was seeing the scene from his memory play out in front of him.

“I told everyone…everyone…and yet, no dragon ever appeared, the ridicule, the mocking…they pretended to my face, but I could hear them behind my back…

And it was on that day I vowed that once the Kingdom was mine, I would seek my revenge,” said the King as he balled his fist.

“Sire, if I may speak freely,” one of the advisors spoke, nerves churning in his stomach. He heard the King sigh; he knew the King was stubborn but he was usually level headed and kind, unless that came to dragons. He was hoping he would continue to be.

“You may,” The King finally spoke after some silence.

“Sire, we are starting a war we may not survive, humans and dragons have lived side by side for centuries, they don’t hunt us and for the most part we don’t hunt them,” the advisor started.

“Get on with it, say what you so desperately want to but are skipping around,” the King snapped, his patience running thin.

“What I am saying your highness, is instead of killing Dragons on a childish whim you should be focusing on how to best protect your kingdom.” The advisor sucked in a breath as he noticed the Kings face turn red.

“Childish whim?” the King shouted in anger.

“Will all due respect your majesty, you wish to be respected by your people, you wish to be seen as strong and noble. Currently you are living up to those teasing whispers of being a fool. Because only fools’ rule on anger and revenge.”

“At times sire we all need to let things go, we all need to learn from our past, don’t let is affect us emotionally but remember and use and learn from the lessons it teaches you,” replied the other Advisor.

“Lessons it teaches you?” asked the King curious to what the advisor meant.

“Well sire, I assume you were never taken advantage of like that again were you…” offered the advisor guiding the King to the realisation.

The King snorted, “as my father said, make sure your advisors are smarter than you, I still don’t like them, but you are right, time to let the past go.”

Initially it caused confusion as the ruler said he could sit at the top of the table, resulting in the first few meetings everyone standing around waiting to see where the ruler sat before taking their seats as to not sit in theirs.

Until one forward thinking and ambitious aide putting the flag of Mars at their seat to signify which one was ‘at the top.’

Am Mart, the ruler of Mars, staired at the note in disbelief rage building, they were ready, ready for a war, their production had been geared up for full scale war…

They were geared up for a fight…and no one wanted to play.

“Get them on the phone, get them on the phone right now!” Am Mart demanded slamming the note on the table.

“But ruler, even with the relay repeaters it still takes 5 mins for communication to reach Earth…” said the aide still nervously standing to the side of Am Mart.

“I DON’T CARE, GET THE ON THE PHONE!”

-5 minutes later.

“Hey Am Mart, nice to see you again, how you enjoying your independence?” came a cheery Nova over the speaker, Am Mart would have preferred a video call but with voice communication taking 5 mins she was not willing to wait.

“What, you trying to insult me? You think we can’t do it, you think we won’t survive without you ruling over us don’t you?” exclaimed Am Mart looking angry at the speaker, eyes starting to twitch as she waited for the response, “God this sucks!”

“No of course not, we wish you all the best for the future, you’re on our Christmas invite list for the annual Christmas party,” replayed Nova still with a cheer in her voice.

“WHAT?! Why, why are you letting us go without a fight, why are you not doing something about this?!” Am Mart burst out followed by a thud a few seconds later as her head banged off the table.

“Ah…I see what you’re asking, well, Am Mart you have kids? I know you do so no need to wait on the round-trip response, you know when they just won’t…move out, their grown up, their adults but yet…they just won’t leave! Mooching off you, you’re constantly having to pay for them and clear up the mess, and then that day they finally come and tell you they are moving out…”

Am Mart was listening to the response knowing the pain Nova had felt when the penny dropped to what Nova was referring too, “WHAT!, but…but, we spent all this money on all these weapons!”

“I don’t know…find someone else to play with, oh that’s the other line I got to go, don’t be a stranger now,” finished Nova as a click followed the end of sentence.

“I missed you, it has been months since we last saw each other,” Rose breathed out as she blushed under The Grim Reaper’s unwavering eye.

“Rose, you need to find someone in this realm to love, someone to spend your life with.” The Grim Reaper explained for what felt like the 100th time, but thankfully this woman had only killed five men not one hundred.

“But the only one I want is you,” Rose pouted, never understanding why they couldn’t be together. She had been alone all her life; she had never felt for someone the way she did with him. It was a spiritual connection, not one made of flesh but of a deep instant connection. At least for Rose. Ever since he had arrived after she killed her father, she just knew he was meant to be in her life. But she had to be careful, leaving long times between her murders so that she wouldn’t come under suspicion.

“Rose, this is the last time I will tell you this, stop killing these men, stop trying to find ways to see me, when your time to end this life and enter the next is upon us, I will see you then.” And he disappeared without so much as a second thought.

Rose felt her body sag, what more could she do for him? What more could she do to prove she loved him so much she would do anything to see him. She knew it was wrong to kill people, but everyone does crazy things for the people they love.

It was pure fluke they had met that first time; she had never believed in spirits or the afterlife. Her life had been dark and believing someone was there pulling the strings behind the scenes just made her more angry and upset.

But one day, after he fathers latest beating, she decided enough was enough. The best thing about her father was he addicted to many things, so staging his death had been easy. Getting away with it had seemed even easier. But what she hadn’t expected was when she watched her father take his last breath, The Grim Reaper appeared before her, he seemed just as startled as her that she could see him.

After all, The Grim Reaper is supposed to come and go in amongst humans without disrupting their lives. That first day he stayed and talked to her for what felt like hours, he had seemed fascinated by her just as taken with her as she was with him, but what Rose didn’t know, was he was simply curious, he had never spoken to a live human before.

But to Rose his interest was proof that they belonged together, how else could he explain why she was the only human who could see him?

Rose sank into her armchair, staring at the now lifeless body of her latest victim, wondering what more she could do to prove her love to him. The darkness in the room leading way to the depressing thoughts that it could be another few more months before she could justify killing another to see him again.

When suddenly it hit her, a solution that seemed so obvious she was wondering why she had never thought of it before.

As he was called back to the human world, he just knew something wasn’t right. And as he landed in the same living room he had been in moments earlier, he felt a niggle of anger.

“Rose, I swear this killing has to stop, I won’t tolerate it anymore,” He called out as he looked to the scene in front of him. A lifeless body on the floor, of the man whose soul was already in the underworld, it wasn’t until his eyes landed on a body slumped in the chair he felt himself stop. “Rose, what did you do?” He whispered out as her soul touched his arm.