Event 11 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Event 11 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Amidst the dappled sunlight that filtered through the ancient trees, Annie, Rose, and Theodore stood at the edge of the forest, their eyes fixed upon an unexpected sight—a massive monastery that seemed to rise from the earth where a vibrant field of wildflowers once thrived. Their SUV, the symbol of modernity, was conspicuously absent, as though it had been swallowed by the very fabric of time itself.

The monastery, a sentinel of the past, stood proudly before them, its weathered stones a testament to the ages it had witnessed. Immaculate gardens encircled the stone structure, a symphony of color and life that painted a sharp contrast against the sternness of the stone walls. Men and women, draped in garments that evoked the mystique of history, moved about the gardens with purpose, their hands tenderly tending to the flora that adorned the landscape.

As the trio approached, a sense of awe overcame them, their footsteps echoing softly against the path that led them to this hidden sanctuary. Rose, Theodore, and Annie found themselves enveloped by a sense of belonging as the monks greeted them with open arms, as if the currents of destiny had whispered of their arrival. With graceful gestures and smiles that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages, the monks guided their guests into the heart of the monastery—a dining hall that bore witness to countless stories of those who had come before.

The hall, an embodiment of history itself, welcomed them with an atmosphere of camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of time. Polite conversations flowed like a gentle stream, weaving together past and present in a harmonious dance. Warmth enveloped them, and the boundaries between strangers and hosts dissolved into the embrace of shared humanity. A feast laid out before them, an array of flavors and aromas that seemed to span centuries, nourished both body and spirit. As glasses were kept brimming with care, the monks whispered almost imperceptibly, “You must be famished,” their eyes twinkling with an understanding that surpassed mere hospitality.

With laughter and tales, the evening passed in a blur of enchantment, as the walls of the dining hall seemed to come alive with echoes of the past. Each story shared was a brushstroke upon the canvas of time, contributing to a masterpiece that transcended individual narratives—a symphony that resonated with the rhythm of existence itself. When the meal concluded, the monks led the trio to their separate chambers, citing manners and politeness as their guiding principles.

As the doors closed behind them, the once shared experience now split into individual narratives, a sense of unease began to creep over Theodore. His footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor as he followed the monk who was guiding him to his designated room. The shadows seemed to whisper secrets as he went along, and just as the monk opened the door to his chamber, a sudden force grabbed his chest and throat, and sent Theodore spiraling into darkness.

When he awoke, Theodore found himself in a place that was the antithesis of the warmth and welcome he had encountered earlier. He was in a cold, dark cellar, the walls of ancient stone exuding an oppressive chill. Panic seized him as he realized he was bound, once again restrained against his will, unable to escape the grasp of unseen captors. The air was thick with foreboding, each breath heavy with a reminder of his dire circumstances.

In the chambers above, Annie and Rose remained oblivious to Theodore’s plight. The serenity that had accompanied their arrival now bore a tinge of unease, an undercurrent of mystery that swirled beneath the surface. As they settled into their separate rooms, lavish and pampered both Rose and Annie were caught up in the pleasantries, mindless and satiated by the influence of the monks.

Unbeknownst to Annie and Rose, Theodore’s captivity unraveled a narrative that had remained hidden amidst the monastery’s façade of warmth and hospitality. Darkness clung to the corners of his cell, a metaphorical echo of the hidden truths that shrouded the very heart of the ancient edifice. Time seemed to warp as Theodore struggled against his bonds, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and determination. He knew that escape was essential, not just for his own sake, but to unveil the secrets that threatened the very fabric of reality itself.

Event 10 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Event 10 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Damien, Thomas, and Oscar were falling into darkness. Thomas led the way, then Oscar, and Damien was the last. Mist obscured their view from one another, but there were screams and cries from below followed by the sound of a grotesque impact. There was a stomach churning cracking sound when the screams turned into mush on rocks below. Damien was consumed with regret, he had hoped the special potion they had consumed would have worked, amplifying the lucent DNA enough to interact with the old ways, but it didn’t.

Damien waited for a second impact that did not occur, which meant that Oscar was indeed lucent. As the number of human beings grounded to earth continues to increase, now that the neuron to brain fractal is complete, more and more individuals with begin to express, it was only a matter of time. The vile substance in the vial merely accelerated the process allowing old magic to once again interact with the vessel.

It was the lingering mist at the bottom of the hole that slowed them down, slowly reducing speed and if graceful enough landing soft as a feather.

Thomas was splattered on the rocks and Oscar didn’t like seeing all the blood. He immediately turned and tried to distance himself from the scene.

Damien landed softly next to Thomas’s remains. He felt bad and said, “I thought you had a plan mate,” Then he looked at Oscar wishing that he could exchange one life for another.

Oscar was too scared to say anything. He was scared knowing that Damien wasn’t normal anymore because they had somehow flown a bit while falling and were still alive.

In the hole, there was a narrow path in the rock. They walked through it, and even though it felt like a long way, they finally found the final room of rest. Damien knew it was a special place where the flesh of Alaxandar the Vicious was kept. Oscar was oblivious.

There was a big coffin that stood in the corner of the room. Damien released it from the binds and it toppled over with a loud clang. Revealed on the lid of the casket was a bowl with a jagged edge protruding from the bottom. Damien carefully removed the stone ark from his satchel and placed in in the bowl. He struck the rock with the hilt of his sword until it broke and thick red liquid oozed forth.

They waited for a minute, expecting something to happen, but Oscar didn’t think it was very exciting. “Is that all?” he asked.

“We must wait,” Damien said, finding a spot on the floor to lie down. “Things are going to change very quickly from this point forward, might be your last chance to rest.”

Oscar looked around at the dark and wet floor. He didn’t know what was happening, and they didn’t have anything with them to make camp.

“Try to rest,” Damien said again to Oscar, as he himself found a spot to lay down. The floor was uncomfortable, but Damien’s demeanor was confident that something important was going to happen and knew that the journey ahead would take all the energy they could muster.

Event 7 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Event 7 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Annie was driving like a maniac with one hand on the wheel while trying to call a number on her phone with the other. Rose, who was sitting beside her, couldn’t help but complain, “Stop texting, Annie!” Rose was still handcuffed, but she managed to get her hands to the front to sit more comfortably.

Annie didn’t listen to Rose’s warning and finished dialing the number. Then, she put a tiny device in her ear, so only she could hear the person on the other end. “Talk to me, Murray. Where are we?” Annie asked after the call connected. “Yeah, I see it,” she said, making a right turn toward town.

In the backseat, Theo tried to copy Rose’s trick of getting his hands in front, but he got his cuffed stuck on the edge of his heel and started rolling around. Rose noticed and chuckled under her breath, not wanting to disturb him.

Suddenly, Rose turned her attention to Annie and shouted, “Don’t do it, Annie!” Annie seemed to ignore Rose and kept talking on the phone. “Are you sure? Those maps are… old,” Annie said.

Rose was using her ability to read Annie’s thoughts and didn’t like the plan that was unfolding. “45% success rate Annie,” Rose pleaded.

As they drove through a historic downtown with red brick buildings, Annie steered the car into a narrow alley and faced a dead end. Rose tried to open the door, but Annie locked it from her side. Rose turned to Annie, her eyes welling up with tears. “45% success rate, Annie. Those maps can’t be trusted.” She tried the door again, “45 percent.”

Theodore stayed quiet. He had finally managed to get his hands in front of him, but he was confused about the maps, and the plan, and where they were going. Annie and Rose spoke as if they were from another planet.

Annie calmly capitulated that this was a risky choice, but was also the fastest route to the druid. She looked at Rose straight in the eye and said, “If we make this jump, we’ll be heroes…”

“I’m already a hero,” Rose replied, sliding down into her seat.

Annie floored the gas pedal, and the car sped toward a brick wall. Theo shouted in fear as they approached the wall. For a split second everyone was convinced they were about to crash.

But instead of crashing, the car passed right through the wall and emerged in a beautiful field full of colorful flowers. It was a peaceful contrast to the chaos of the city. Everyone caught their breath as they took in the tranquility of the place.

“YYAAAHH BAABEEEYY!” Annie exclaimed slamming her fist against the steering wheel. Rose was still recovering from her fear, whispering, “45 percent” repeatedly to herself.

Theodore, curious and amazed, asked, “What was that?”

Annie stepped out of the SUV to retrieve her bag from the back. “Follow me,” she said “we’re off to see the Druid at the Gate,” she said with a new found energy in her step.

The all set off single file across the field, and into the woods.

Event 6 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Event 6 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

The plane soared through the sky, Damien guiding it with ease, Thomas in the back seat, and their new pilot, Oscar, gripping the controls. The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky with beautiful colors.

Damien’s voice crackled over the radio, “We’re almost there.” But when they looked ahead, all Oscar saw was a thick jungle. “Where’s the landing spot?” Oscar asked, puzzled.

Damien grinned slyly. “Did I say airfield…” He leaned back “There’s definitely a field…”

Oscar’s heart raced, and he started to worry. He realized they were in trouble. “We can’t turn back,” he said with urgency, glancing at the gas meter before looking back at Thomas, who seemed too calm.

“We’re going to crash,” Oscar stammered as he mentally processed the danger that lay before them.

Damien wasn’t fazed. “We’ll be fine, we’re just going to land a little more… “he trailed off a bit, “violently.”

The plane descended and tension filled the air. Oscar gripped the controls tightly as the plane’s wheels hit the ground. The landing gear was destroyed immediately, and the left wing dug into the earth before tearing off completely.

Panic and chaos erupted as the plane shook and parts broke off. The noise was deafening, Oscar yelled in fear, and everything was a blur. But somehow, they survived the crash, shaken but alive.

Oscar was furious, glaring at Damien. He had been tricked into this dangerous situation. Damien, however, looked thrilled, like he’d just been on a rollercoaster at an amusement park. Thomas, in the back, had a mix of emotions. He was glad they were okay, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this time they were in over their heads.

They climbed out of the wrecked plane and stood in the jungle. The air was thick and humid, and uncertainty hung in the air. The path ahead was unclear, but they were determined to face whatever challenges came their way. As they walked into the dense forest, they couldn’t ignore the feeling that they were stepping into a world of mysteries and risks that they couldn’t even imagine.

Event 3.4 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Event 3.4 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Theo’s vision was hazy, blurred by in intense pain of the portal’s radiation degrading his body at the cellular level. Blood, smeared across his arm, bore witness to the violence.

As the sun’s rays cascaded down, bathing him in its warm embrace, he felt a strange mixture of relief and disorientation.

Shirtless and bloodied, Theo wiped at his face with the back of his hand, his eyes squinting against the glare of the star portal as it burned out.

Laughter of the deranged man echoed in his ears, a haunting cadence of radical nonsense, mostly… Amidst the nonsensical ramblings about the apocalypse, Theo’s heart raced, his mind struggled to regain its equilibrium but he did not wait for clarity.

Theo’s steps carried him away from the ranting lunatic and towards the front of the store into open air of the parking lot. His gaze fell upon an older woman, her trunk laden with groceries. The mundane scene seemed surreal in contrast to the turmoil he had just emerged from. The woman’s movements were deliberate, slow, frail, absorbed in her own world.

Seizing the moment, Theo approached with a mixture of desperation and determination.

With gentle but resolute hands, he plucked the keys from the woman’s grip, his fingers brushing against hers in the exchange. She faltered, nearly losing her balance, and Theo’s instincts kicked in. He reached out, steadying her with a touch that was both gentle and protective. A silent connection passed between them in that fleeting moment, before he turned and sprinted towards the driver’s seat.

The engine roared to life as Theo slid behind the wheel, a jolt of adrenaline propelling him forward. The old lady’s surprised gaze followed him, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. And then, with a screech of tires and a trail of dust, he was gone.

He drove aimlessly, the open road stretching out before him like an invitation to escape. The wind rushed past, tousling his hair and carrying with it the residue of his recent encounters. Thoughts collided within him, the crazed laughter, the chaotic fight, the stolen car – all fragments of a reality he was struggling to comprehend.

Nearly 45 minutes passed in a blur, the sun descending towards the horizon like a fading promise. It was in this twilight hour, with the world painted in hues of gold and orange, that Theo found himself detouring through a small neighborhood. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his mind adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

And then, as if scripted by fate, he almost ran into her with his car. Rose, crossing the street on her bicycle, appeared before him like a mirage. He slammed the brakes, the car screeching to a halt just inches from her. His heart raced, from the near miss.

Rose’s bike lay at the scene of the crash, her eyes wide with surprise. She met Theo’s gaze, a mixture of recognition and curiosity in her expression. And in that heartbeat of a moment, amidst the dust and the sunset, two worlds collided.

Theo’s heart pounded, his breath catching as he open the door and eased out. “Hey,” he called out, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret. The world seemed to hold its breath, suspended in the space between heartbeats.

Rose’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes holding a spark of something familiar yet unknown. “Hey yourself,” she replied, the words a bridge between two worlds.

Rose closed her eyes but could not even conjure the young man’s name in her mind.

In that stolen moment, as the sun ripped across the sky and shadows stretched long, Theo and Rose shared a connection that defied explanation. Their stories, intertwined by fate, had led them to this crossroad. And as they stood on the threshold of an uncertain future, they felt the pull of something greater than themselves, a whisper of possibility that lingered in the air like the promise of a new beginning.

Event 3.2 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Event 3.2 Archived by: Beatrice INGO

Theodore’s steps were unsteady as he navigated the dark streets, a cloud of intoxication hanging over him from the raucous party he had just left. The night was thick with shadows, and his own footsteps echoed in his ears as he approached his apartment building. A shiver ran down his spine as he noticed his front door slightly ajar, a cold sense of unease sweeping over him.

Fear knotted his stomach as he pushed the door open, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The apartment was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. Relief washed over him when he realized nothing was missing, but a chilling realization dawned – they weren’t there for his belongings.

Before he could react, a bag was yanked over his head, his surroundings plunged into darkness. Panic surged, but there was no time to struggle as he was hurled into what felt like a pool of ice water. The sensation of falling left him breathless, and the icy grasp of water gave way to the harsh impact of concrete.

Theodore lay flat on his back, disoriented, his heart pounding in his ears. The room echoed with strange sounds, like whispers trapped within damp chambers. Suddenly, two figures materialized before him, clad in black leather suits with helmets and mirrored visors that hid their faces. Panic and confusion swirled within him as they methodically stripped away his clothes and shoes, leaving him in just his jeans.

Bound to a chair, Theodore felt vulnerable and exposed. One of the intruders took to bullying and mocking him, the blows stinging his pride. Spittle landed on his skin, the taste of humiliation mingling with his fear. But the other intruder intervened, sternly reprimanding his companion. “He must remain unharmed,” the voice declared.

Tensions escalated, the bully threatening the other with fiery rage.

Then, with a shadowy apparition, the cellar door creaked open, revealing a towering figure draped in emerald green robes. The very air seemed to shift in his presence. A white mask obscured his face and an aura of power emanated from him.

With swift and brutal force, the green scaled warrior grabbed the man in black leathers, and smashed his face as he pleaded for mercy. Blow after blow, scaly green fist pulverized the man’s face, first cracking the mirror visor, then shattering it altogether. The next blow cracked the integrity of the helmet, and the following blow destroyed the remaining face guard.

The next strike left human flesh under green scales.

The next strike removed skin from bone.

The next strike caused that bone to crumble.

The next strike landed on something softer.

The next strike sounded squishier.

The next strike was liquid…

The green giant in robes released his victim and watched the empty body sprawl across the floor, then turned and exited the room as solemnly as he entered.

Amid the grim aftermath, Theodore couldn’t suppress the nausea that surged within him, his senses overwhelmed by the gruesome sight, he dry heaved but nothing came out. His focus then shifted to the human form who had remained kneeling. Only now did he realize that she was a woman, her soft laughter was eerie.

“You must be special,” she remarked, nudging her lifeless companion with the toe of her boot. Her words were laden with curiosity and there was a predatory gleam in her eyes. She spoke of her fallen comrade as if he were nothing more than a lab rat, devoid of genuine experience and emotion. The woman’s attempts at interaction bordered on friendly, yet they were overshadowed by the fear that had rooted Theodore to the spot.

As she played the role of the “good cop,” a sudden burst of light erupted in the corner of the room, a fiery ball of brilliance heralding the entrance of a creature unlike any other through the glare. With a feline grace and short calico fur, a cat seemed to walked on two legs, carrying a fearsome spear adorned with gemstones. Her elegance was captivating, movements smooth as silk, capturing Theodore’s attention in a web of fascination.

The ensuing battle was a whirlwind of motion, the woman in black’s strength paling in comparison to the calico cat lady’s astonishing speed. The room became an arena of ferocity, each movement a blur of lethal precision. Amid the chaos, Theodore barely registered the arrival of another figure through the star portal, so entranced was he by the clash of speed and precision before him.

Time seemed to bend as he observed the duel, his breath caught in his throat. He hardly noticed the blonde, blue-eyed woman who was busily untying him from the chair. His adrenaline surged, a mix of fear and excitement racing through his veins. With his restraints released, he watched the unfolding battle with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

His escape seemed imminent, but the cat stood as an unconquerable barrier. However, the blonde woman’s touch, her voice soothing yet authoritative, gave him a newfound sense of agency. With a final push, Theodore found himself tumbling toward the star portal, arms crossed protectively over his chest.

As he looked back for one last glimpse, the cat lady’s fight against the woman in black raged on, the blonde woman smiling and waving. And then, as if diving into an icy pool, Theodore fell into the starport, a sensation of vertigo overwhelming his senses. His stomach churned and wrenched in pain.

The world shifted, and Theodore landed with a jarring thud. Sunlight assaulted his senses, the warmth of the day a stark contrast to the cellar’s clammy darkness. Blinking against the brightness, he tried to make sense of the new environment.

A deranged homeless figure lurked nearby, witnessing Theodore’s fall from the hovering light. The homeless person’s words echoed like a twisted prophecy, tales of dragons and impending deception. Amid the confusion, Theodore’s mind reeled, the threads of reality and fantasy blurring together in a tapestry of uncertainty.