Literary Maneuvers April 2019 - "The Butterfly Effect" - Page 2

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Thread: Literary Maneuvers April 2019 - "The Butterfly Effect"

  1. #11
    Member Stygian's Avatar
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    Literary Maneuvers April 2019 Submission

    Out of Time (648 Words. Coarse Language and disturbing content warning)

    Mark was tied down to a wooden chair. Fear and dread was setting in. His stomach lurched from rising panic. It was hard to make out the room. A single flood light above his head would not allow his vision to focus on his surroundings. He could smell a faint whiff of gasoline in the air.


    A door creaked open on the far side of the room. A man in a black suit came into view. He grabbed a chair and sat in front of Mark. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and fished out a pack of smokes. He struck a match, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag, never breaking his gaze on Mark.


    “W-who the hell are you? W-what do you want from me? Why the hell am I tied to a chair?” Mark cried out. The fear was causing him to stutter. “Look, I don’t have much. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise, I won’t tell anyone anything. Please, just let me go!” Mark pleaded.


    “Kid, it’s not so simple. The people I work with have a special interest in you. When they take interest in people, it rarely ends well for them.” The man flicked his cigarette into a dark corner and walked over to Mark. He crouched down to look Mark in the eye. “Shit, you’ve already pissed yourself.” Mark’s fear took hold. He fought his restraints with all his strength, but they wouldn’t budge.


    “Let me go, you psychopath! I don’t know why anyone wants me dead. I haven’t done anything!” Mark yelled out in frustration.


    “I could put a round in you and be on my way. Unfortunately, it’s a bit more complicated.” He said with a sigh. The stench of cigarette smoke from his breath was overpowering. “Look, we can do this in one of two ways. You can give me the access code to your program willingly, or resist, and I will make you wish you were dead.” The man said with a wicked smile.


    “The access code, why in the hell do you want that? It’s just a program to allow people to connect over the internet. It’ll bring millions of people together from all over the world.” Mark trailed off in a whisper.


    “Kid, that program will kill millions. People will use manufactured information to start mass dissent, uprisings, and throw us back to the dark ages.” The man laughed and playfully slapped Mark on his face. “Hard to believe you’re so naive.” The man stood up, he glared down at Mark. “Cut the shit, kid, just give me the code.” The smell of acrid smoke was getting worse. Mark could see a fire starting to come to life where the man flicked his cigarette.


    “How do you know all that? Are you from the future? How can my program do something like that?” Mark was confused and suddenly aware of the spreading fire. “If I give the codes to you, what will keep you from killing me?”


    “My boss has sent me here to nip the problem in the bud. The changes we make to history will have a resounding affect in our time. This is the only way to prevent mankind from falling into anarchy.”


    The door creaked open again, and another man walked in. His features mirrored Mark’s own. “The orders have changed. The code has been cracked. We have to leave at once.” The imposter told the man in the suit. “Just leave him here. No one will bother sifting through the ashes for a body.”


    “Damn, they really sent an android body double, huh? Seems the boss wants to control Facebook rather than purge it.” He looked at the android quizzically and shrugged. “Sorry kid, it’s nothing personal.” He turned and left with the android. The conflagration consumed everything, including the anguished screams of Mark Zuckerberg.
    Last edited by Stygian; April 15th, 2019 at 06:21 PM. Reason: Accidently uploaded my word file

  2. #12

  3. #13
    Wɾ¡ʇ¡∩9 bdcharles's Avatar
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    Hidden Content Monthly Fiction Challenge


    Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure, and are awed,
    because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
    - Rainer Maria Rilke, "Elegy I"

    *

    Is this fire, or is this mask?
    It's the Mantasy!
    - Anonymous

    *

    C'mon everybody, don't need this crap.
    - Wham!





  4. #14
    Wɾ¡ʇ¡∩9 bdcharles's Avatar
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    Family Tree
    (anon)


    Hidden Content Monthly Fiction Challenge


    Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure, and are awed,
    because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
    - Rainer Maria Rilke, "Elegy I"

    *

    Is this fire, or is this mask?
    It's the Mantasy!
    - Anonymous

    *

    C'mon everybody, don't need this crap.
    - Wham!





  5. #15
    Wɾ¡ʇ¡∩9 bdcharles's Avatar
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    *Late entry due to extenuating circumstances*

    Change Time By Godofwine (506 words)

    Harold, nerves rattled, pulled the door handle and threw his shoulder against the driver’s side door, but it didn’t budge. He looked in disgust across the car at the dented-in passenger door, into the backseat, then back at the road. The horn from the 18-wheel semi barreling toward him was deafening.
    Twenty-five feet from him and closing.
    Twenty.
    Ten.
    His heart felt as if it would leap from his chest.
    The accident almost a minute before had shaken him, his Civic disabled, cocked sideways in the middle of the highway. Cars zoomed by him, narrowly missing his vehicle as he sat across two lanes. As the unavoidable moment of impact loomed before him, he turned toward the back seat. Desperately,he tried to indelibly imprint the image of his 3 year-old daughter on his brain.His brow furrowed, he forced a smile onto his face to keep her calm. She smiledand reached out for him from her car seat. He wanted to remember her like that,as she was, as she would never be again.
    Tears welled in in his eyes and each fell one at a time.
    Harold held his breath as his daughter gently touched his outstretched hand with her little fingers.
    Another tear fell.
    He was supposed protect her, and he couldn’t. A simulationof every memory they would never have flowed into his mind’s eye.
    She stood between he and her mother as they entered kindergarten. The nervous look in her eyes as she looked up at her parents, andthen into a classroom of strange children of varying hues and colors.
    Her name is called, and she picks up her honor roll ribbon from her third-grade teacher.
    From the stands, he and his wife looked on as she drew her leg back and kicked a soccer ball that flew just out of reach of the diving goalie. The both cheered as his daughter ran and jumped into the sea of waiting teammates.
    Another tear fell.
    Footsteps pounded the stairs and shrill screams fill the air as she ran into the room. “Stanford! Daddy, I got into Stanford!” she yelled.
    In a dark auditorium, her name is called again. His daughter strolled across the stage wearing her cap and gown. What seemed to be an eternal smile was pasted on her face as a man handed her the diploma.
    With an armful of boxes, he trudged up two flights of stairs and into a tiny dorm room. His daughter rambled on and on into her phone walking in front of him. She was so excited she didn’t notice the tears in his eyes.
    Another tear fell.
    His world exploded in a cacophony of noises he was unable to differentiate. That was followed by a period of weightlessness that had no end,and a scream he was unable to tell if it was his own. An inky blackness enveloped him, and his final thought was of a butterfly flapping its wings over a field in Peking, wishing he could change what had occurred.


    Hidden Content Monthly Fiction Challenge


    Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure, and are awed,
    because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
    - Rainer Maria Rilke, "Elegy I"

    *

    Is this fire, or is this mask?
    It's the Mantasy!
    - Anonymous

    *

    C'mon everybody, don't need this crap.
    - Wham!





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