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ByNS Stories: S.T.A.R.


It’s been a while since my last ByNS Stories post, so here’s one of the more solid ones. I barely had to edit this one to get it in top shape. Though its references are even more out of date than they were back last year when I wrote it…

 

S.T.A.R.

By Thedude3445

The sparkling background was utterly captivating. To think that each one of these bright specks held a solar system of their very own – wow. What a wonderful universe this was!

Fantasies of alien worlds and places not yet known filled little Becca White’s head with glee and joy; how amazing it would be to journey to space, to venture out into the great unknown, for Becca herself to traverse the intergalactic highways!

But alas. The television screen flickered off as the bunker lost power once more. Berlin was once again under siege, and as time went on, the more and more frequent these blackouts had become.

“Mother,” Becca asked. “Is the power going to come back on?”

“Yes, dear,” her loving mother replied, her voice as sweet as a cherry on a bright summer day. “It always does. Do not worry yourself with the things you cannot control.”

“Okay.” Becca thought long and hard about that. Was her destiny something she could control, or was it too set, unable to be changed? “Mother, can I reach those stars someday? The ones from the television screen?”

“If we survive this,” she told her, “You surely can. Anyone will be able to, in the future.” Becca hoped more than anything that she could…

Another shell blasted against the roof above her. The power finally came back on. Becca really just wanted all this to end. So many friends and family were gone by this point. Flames drenched the city in ash and soot. It was all so sad. Becca decided that she wouldn’t ever let space be anything like this. She would become the queen of space and rule it, and force everyone to be happy.

Eventually, the enemy breached their fortifications. A seeming million soldiers rushed into the bunker at once, and chaos erupted. Becca searched around frantically for her mother as bullets rushed past her in every direction, but all the noise and all the blurry movements obscured her senses.

One soldier pushed Becca against the wall as he ran past her, and lobbed a grenade across the hallway, killing not only several of her own protectors, but noncombatants as well. Why did the man spare her, and not them? Even in the midst of this great battle, Becca felt an immense guilt for this, and tears came out of her eyes. They lasted until long after the gunfight was over, and the smoke had all but cleared.

“Mother?” Becca called out. She was still gone; where did she go? Looked and looked around the body-filled bunker Becca did, but she could not find her mother among the survivors. It was only when Becca looked down when she truly understood the magnitude of the carnage she had just endured, for her own mother was lying on the floor without life to her person.

The enemy conquered Becca and her people. Killed and captured their leaders. Did what they thought was free the terrified citizens within. They believed that they were the heroes of this conflict. But they were not. Becca’s mother was dead, and now she was alone in the great wide World. War was over, but so was her mother’s life. For some time, Becca went under the care of a foster home, but as soon as she turned sixteen, she left for good.

For a long, long time, Becca wandered the world. Saw the effects that the war had on it. Saw how the world recovered from the disaster, and prepared itself for the next. Saw many things, little Becca White did.

She discovered her spirituality during all of this, after meeting with priests and shamans and all types of leaders from all over the lands, across the entire planet Earth. Space was a glimmer of hope compared to her daily rituals. The worship of Nature as the highest power in existence consumed her life, if only for a short time before she gave even that up.

By the time Becca was actually an adult, though, there was no point in dreaming about space. It had already been done, by the Americans no less; all that was there to learn about the Celestial Bodies of the Universe was already learned. She still craved the stars, but she knew she herself could never reach them. It was impossible.

She would soon settle down with a man known as Hayden Black. Man was a vulture of a species, but Hayden was man enough for Becca to both appreciate and mate with. They did soon consummate their love in marriage, and lived for many years together.

Both soon expected their mating rituals to produce an offspring most quickly, and one came – for but a moment only. The baby disappeared into the Great Manaether as Nature took it, and it became an unborn entity. Sadness reigned supreme during these times. Space reigned supreme, as well.

The baby was space. Becca knew now that she had to reach the stars somehow. To meet her child, to whom she had never even been given the chance to speak. To fulfill her mother’s mission, to whom she promised she would reach the stars someday.

Hayden wanted to try again, to attempt to have another child, but Becca knew better in this respect. Their baby was already here, but also not here at the same time. It was all around him, and he didn’t even know it. It was all around all of them. It was space.

Another child did eventually arrive, but it would be many decades later, late in both Becca and Hayden’s lives. Becca did not even realize that she was able to bear children anymore, at the late an age, and this shock did not translate into happiness once Rebbeca Junior entered this world.

Due to their having her so late in life, little Rebecca was stricken with severe autism. She was immensely intelligent, able to solve almost any problem of academics or logic presented to her before she was even ten, but it came at the cost of her life outside her own mind. She was utterly dependent on her mother for almost all needs, and would barely even make contact with even her closest relatives, She could not speak to Hayden himself until she was seven.

At the start, Becca was not appreciative of this new life brought into her personal world. She had room enough with her first child, and this second one was much more of a pain to bring up, due to her special needs. In time, however, the mother and child developed a bond closer than any other in the universe. It was the universe itself.

In the eyes of little Rebecca, her mother was the star. It was her. And for the first time in a long time, Becca truly felt love and compassion towards another being. Even after Hayden passed on when Rebecca was around twelve, Becca still felt happiness within her heart.

A few years later, the time came when Rebecca was going to have to leave to go off to college. She was only fourteen, but she had already graduated high school through her intensive home schooling program. Becca needed her daughter to come out of her shell, though she knew not a way to get her to do that.

Fortuitous actions took place very soon after. A knock on the door. The door was opened. It was a large black man, explaining to Becca that he was a famous music producer, and that he needed a young girl for his next big hit song. He explained that he wished to use Rebecca as this young girl. He wished to make her a star.

This whirlwind brought back all the old memories in one sweeping flood; those of space and of the stars and of the planets that swarmed around them. It seemed that her childhood dream would indeed be fulfilled… through her daughter. She would finally be able to become reunited with her baby, so long gone that it was a distant memory to most. But not to Becca.

The first music video that Rebecca was to be in, she was actually to be the lead singer. It was then when her mother truly realized Rebecca’s hidden talents, lost due to her handicaps in life. Her voice truly was the most beautiful that Becca had ever heard; she would truly reach the stars.

Released that next Friday, the song was an instant hit, and racked up millions upon millions of views in just days! She was going to reach the baby now. She had to. Rebecca was now a celebrity, known all over the world for her music video!

Then the commentary on the song was released. The reviews. Becca realized why it was so popular now. People on the internet, the vultures that the species of man truly was were making fun of the music video! They were even making fun of her poor daughter! Did they not realize that her daughter was so disabled? They probably did, and simply did not care!

The scorn eventually reached Rebecca herself, the internet-savy little girl she was, and it utterly destroyed her spirits. She would never speak a single word for weeks after the music video came out. It was just too hard. Her mother found her on the bathroom floor a few days later, having taken almost an entire bottle of Becca’s glaucoma medicine.

She lived, but she was trapped even further within her own mind, as she was now stuck completely in a coma. The music producer quite easily replaced Rebecca with a look alike girl, but Becca could not do that. This was the second child she had lost to the stars, and still she had not gone herself. It was almost heart-wrenching for this situation to be occurring in the first place.

The plug was pulled a month later. Rebecca was pronounced dead soon after. Becca woke up at 7 AM that next morning, ate some cereal, and stood at the bus stop, waiting for her missing family. It was night before she even moved from that spot. When she finally did, she merely stared at the night sky for hours.

Becca now saw the constellations for what they truly were; her family. Her mother was there, and her husband, and her children. The great and mighty Ares, and the fair and judicious Libra—they were, in fact, Becca’s children, she realized suddenly, as she continued to stare.

This scene was beautiful, like the most happy Thanksgiving dinner she had ever had; a reunion of all her favorite family members for a glorious meal, and no in-laws to deal with. None whatsoever. Becca could even smell the turkey, as if a charming incense had been release into the air. Becca was hungry.

There was a pie shop nearby, ran by Becca’s friend from Spain, and it was a life-changing experience, but Becca had no desire to change the current track of her life. She just wanted to go to space. So, instead, she went to the local observatory across town. It was a ten minute trek, but it was very worth it.

Few to no other people were in the observatory tonight, despite how clear and sweet-smelling this summer night was. Only Becca, and her two children. She sat down in a chair next to her husband and gazed at the stars once again; the best dinner to be had. She shared some with her daughter, as she too looked famished after a long day’s work.

It was then when Becca realized why she could never reach space, reach the stars, reach her family—she was space. This revelation made more sense than she could possibly fathom, and was quite maddening, if not enlightening. And now she was happy, because she had not only reached the stars, but had become them. She had always been the stars.

       Forever and ever, the stars.

Bottle of Dog


ByNS story. Tried to make a stream-of-consciousness narrative. Failed. Posting anyway.

 

Bottle of Dog

An Experiment by Thedude3445

 

       Taking a drink the whiskey falls down my throat the fire of happiness fills me yes it is a warmth in my cold heart lost over the years of hard combat on these streets of Z’ox too many young people dead too much innocence lost by this horrible war drugs to prevalent governor wages battle against it drug lords fight back everyone pays I paid my eye is gone the right one it was so painful oh man why won’t I just get drunk already three drinks downed and still wide awake what was that shit the bartender’s gone one blaster shot barely misses me more drug lords I wonder where my gun is manufactured by Proteus himself great guy pretty hot can’t think about that right now need to live beard singed by scorching laserbolt punch good for you ow arrgh agh there there stay and sleep forever ah look at that he has many things with him medkit Nabisco sword using that first ever laser-reflective  blade in existence created by kind Dionysus Nabisco aren’t as good as my gun but effective has many uses like on doors windows other Nabisco sword users guns aren’t good against them now time to go have to find the drug lords kill them all the war has gone on far too long police not good anymore used to be and not anymore too soft new governor new police with him times have changes war is coming me against everyone I’m doing this these drug lords killed their last man bam bam laser still loud even after all these years getting rusty only killed ten so far sliced another death’s glory shining happiness upon me bload soaking the ground oh yeah oh man lets go do this bam bam slice reflect drug lords are dead finally mine I am finished my purpose is over Nabisco sword against my chest Proetus I love you sword through my chest it is a warmth in my cold heart finally dead

The Age of Many Excitements


The Age of Many Excitements

By Thedude3445

 

Forever will he reign, our Good and Mighty King!

Twas the Dawn of Man when this young lad was born unto the house of his father, and his father before him, and his father before even him. Given the name Michael upon his christenment into this Earth, he was destined for feats of awesome majesty indeed, being named in honor of the Great Archangel, highest servant of Our Lord.

Expectations were set high upon Michael, even from a young age. While God was the Alpha and Omega, Michael was to be seen as the Beta Version for all mankind; the highest of all honors to which a mortal can be held. He was taught how to walk properly, eat properly, drink properly—he lived properly in all aspects. After all, what true king acted just as a peasant did?

No Release was given to Michael by his elders, even as he grew in both size and age. In fact, the hardships did not but grow as his father aged closer to his own time’s end, ready to pass on to the realm of Our Lord and for Michael to ascend the throne for himself. He was trained as a warrior, and did battle with his kingdom’s enemies just the same as any prince. Those unworthy for the crown would perish in the heat of battle. Michael soared in the aspect of the skirmish. In this part of life, Michael would Fly his way into stardom above all else.

After his father perished, he was given a proper ocean burial, and, to this day, he Lies With the Sea. Now, it was finally the moment for Michael to break the Chain of Prosperity and make our kingdom even stronger. He did not live like a fattened, wretched warlord as many of his predecessors did in the past, long long long ago. He lived as a common person, giving his palace to the peasants for shelter.

Incredibly popular and famously benevolent, Michael has sailed the proverbial Pumpkin Tide. O Michael, show us your light, so that we can better live under your kindness. Because The Deeper You Go, Michael, the more we all will discover.

December Draws Near


This story is one of 11 short stories I wrote to be part of my National Novel Writing Month book “Beyond Nova Sparkles”. Because that story ended up being an abomination and the short stories were only there as filler anyway, I am publishing them all separately once they are sufficiently revised, under a “ByNS Story Banner”. This is the first of these; enjoy!

December Draws Near

By Thedude3445

 

Deadlines must be met. That’s the most imperative directive. Defective are the days when Thanksgiving meant family, friends, and feasting. Gone are the days when children could take a break from school for the week and relax. The past is over. What is current is now. All hail The Black Week! Its history is a storied one, and its rituals so sacred to Our Society have a backstory rivaling those of entire religions. It should truly humble us to look back on what has made America what is is today.

We all know from the history books that Black Friday began over a century ago by the Founding Barons, those titans of capitalism who drove America into its position of power that it retains today. Its origin is shrouded in mystery, but it is certain that the holiday took to instant fame, even spawning the holiday of Thanksgiving the day earlier. However, it was not until the early 21st Century when Black Friday began to undergo its inevitable metamorphosis.

2018: When Black Friday sales begin at 8 AM in Thanksgiving, people aiming to rush in and out of stores so they could scurry off to their Thanksgiving lunches and dinners were sorely disappointed, as lines went on for sometimes five and six blocks, and people had to wait in line for, on average, eight days prior to the Black Friday sales to even enter the stores in the first six hours, causing the doorbuster sales to last for the entire weekend as thousands of fights broke out and stayed broken out for the duration of the sales, controlled by the police, who did not attempt to break up the brawls, as they instead merely stood and watched, in what many conspiracy theorists summarized as complete and utter proof that the Illuminati was both active and acting upon their tight grip on the government to use Black Friday as a population control method to weed out the weak members of the human species in their horrid eugenics experiments, and their entire force went on a break when the Great Riot of New York began over a $40 Wii V video game console, which was extremely popular in this particular Christmas shopping season, and because of their absence, 413 people were killed, 9001 were injured, and dozens went missing, in another conspiracy theory hotspot, which was that those missing were taken by the Illuminati to be tested upon, since most of the missing never did end up being found, even though there was a worldwide search for all the missing individuals, the results of said investigation turning up few to no leads whatsoever, and many important business individuals were among those people who seemingly disappeared into thin air after the Great Riot of New York had finally ended about a week after it began on Thanksgiving morning.

2019: People were reasonably frightened about the next Black Friday, now pushed back even further to 4 AM on Thursday to accommodate people getting back to their families in time for Thanksgiving dinner. Many were quite vocal on the matter, even.

“Estoy muchos tristes; mi familia fue asesinado en Viernes Negra en el año anterrìor.”

“Muy malo… Muy malo…”

“¡Los ventas no son tan bueno! ¡No necessities motar para ventas bien!”

America was not welcoming Black Friday back onto its shores ever again… Until it learned of the maddening deals that would be offered, where, oftentimes, up to 90% was discounted from products or given via coupons or vouchers, from almost all major retailers, which convinced nearly every American to line up for the sales, the first of whom began lining up as early as August and September. And once again, the fighting and warning consumed nearly every piece of our once great nation.

2020: The re-election campaign for President Chris Christie was underway this year, and Black Friday had become a heated source of debate between him and his opponents in the Democratic and Tea Parties. Corporations were ever-willing to donate their money to each candidate through massive Super PACs, and fueling the election season by marketing patriotic sales all through Black Friday and the days before and after it. In fact, a bill passed by Congress pushed back the voting date to Black Friday itself, much to the surprise of the news media. Black Friday and Election Day happening at once tripled the carnage, though the $5 iPhone 19Ses and the option to pay $35 for an extra vote at the ballot were two deals not to be passed up. At the end of this bloody day, fifteen thousand lay on the streets, It was unclear who won the election, though it was clear who lost– the people.

2045: “Veintisiete años desde entonces, y nunca estado mejor.”

President-For-Life Chris Christie made his announcement each year to prepare for Black Friday, and his constituents would always raze the nation with ravenous praise towards the corporations that controlled the United States.

“¡Me encanta La Semana Negra!”

“Los ventas son muy asombroso. ¡Y yo sólo tengo que esperar en fila para ciento dìas este año!”

The populace had been indoctrinating in these 27 years since the Great Riot of New York, supporting many of the previously thought baseless and nutjob ideas of those Illuminati conspiracy theorists so many years ago, which were until recently thought most impossible to validate in any significant manner. It seemed, now, likely that the government was manipulated into this catastrophic state.

People begin forming lines outside the stores as early as June (the world record is March 8, held by former businessman Mark Zuckerberg), many taking up a semi-permanent residence there. As a result, the population of America has overall seen a migration en masse into the urban centers of the country, so that the distance to the biggest sales is as short as possible for as many folks as possible. Tent cities are created almost through the entirety of each major metropolitan area; estimates in the 2040 census showed that 89.7 million people live on Manhattan for at least 3 months out of every year, readying themselves for the sales.

The modern Black Friday is now known as The Black Week. It is a double entendre, ironically, as it is the week of capitalism, but also the week of carnage and death. The children are taken into bunkers the Sunday before, and then the sales begin. Anything goes in the war for good deals. Most who participate in the sales bring their weapons to the event as soon as they get in line, and as soon as the clock strikes 10 PM (it was pushed back 2 hours early in 2039), the gunfire begins. Lower-class families who cannot afford guns have to resort to knives, broken glass bottles, and chainsaws. Some even use their cars to rampage across each store. It is not unlikely to see military-grade weaponry used, somehow smuggled onto the battlefield by people with connections.

Usually, the death toll of the combat is around 800,000, but it has known to become far greater, depending on what sales are produced by the major retailers. One year, 3.6 million lives were lost in the fray, and just last year, the death total was 1.49 million.

Now, the only stores without any sales are weapons shops. Those are closed, for the safety of the shoppers, and are guarded securely at all times. Lucky members of the police have The Black Week off, but most usually go into the bunkers and protect the children from any harm that could come to them.

The Grey Weeks are the ones directly following The Black Week. This event is 3 or so weeks long, as cleanup from The Black Week is the prime directive, as well as helping the status quo return as best as it can. Children whose parents were killed are rounded up and sent to orphanages, where they are trained to become store employees, and the rest are returned to their living parents, where they can return to their normal lives and prosper.

The White Week goes from the winter equinox and follows for the next seven days. This is when gifts are exchanged, families follow the love rituals that the government has assigned them, and police are in full force to make sure every single American is well-behaved and spending time with friends and family only, and are not unhappy in any way.

Then the cycle repeats the next year, as it has for the past 27. America has found its new place among the stars as the most powerful nation of all time, and The Black Week is the sole proprietor of this claim. This is how life is. This is how life will be. Forever and ever, the sales, ad infinitum.

The Black Week Reigns.

<La Semana Negra Reina.>

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