19 June 2016

Stranger - Part 2

Part 1 - http://wispywisdom.blogspot.sg/2016/06/stranger-part-1.html

My head feels like I just got off a roller-coaster and got shot in the head at the same time. Where the heck am I? My arm - that's a needle in there. Faded white tiles cover the wall in front of me. I hear a constant beeping, harmonized with my heartbeat. The smell of ethanol and sweet smelling soaps hit my nostrils making me nauseous. I get up and pull the needle out of my arm and tear the plasters on my chest and arm. The machine which was beeping is now giving a constant high-pitched tone. I walk over to the bathroom. I feel dizzy, like I'm walking for the first time. My legs buckle. I grab the sink for support and stand up. I lift my face to the mirror. My face...

MY FACE! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY FACE! What did they do to me. My face has changed. My face. I don't look the same as before the crash. What happened? Did they give me plastic surgery? Did they change my face? NO! I no longer look like David Cross. Who?! Who did this? I'm screaming. I'm shouting. I punch the mirror in rage. The broken pieces of the mirror distorts the reflection; I'm even more unrecognizable. I hear the clattering footsteps rushing towards the room. Doctors and nurses hold me down. I'm screaming as loudly as I can while I'm flailing my arms and legs. One of them pulls out a syringe. I feel the needle in my forearm. Everything fades to black...

I wake up again. Feels like a dream. The same faded white tiles, the same smell of ethanol, the same beeping. A man is sitting beside the bed on my right. He smiles. He has a comb-over, glasses, shirt and tie and a white coat over it. "Mr. Cross? Hi, I'm Dr. Patel. You've been in a serious crash. Do you remember?". This is news to me. I'm Cross? What the fuck? But my face. My face was different from his when I looked in the mirror just then. I nod. "Your friend sadly did not survive the crash. I'm sorry." he says in an apologetic tone that seems like he's done this quite a number of times. I give a half-smile and frown. "Can I see his picture?" I ask. He nods and gestures asking me to wait and walks out the room. I try to move my arms but they're held down by leather straps. Same goes for my legs. I prop myself up as best I can. Dr. Patel walks back in.

He smiles; that stupid fucking smile. Starting to get on my nerves now. I'm perfectly fine. He's treating me like I've been traumatized or insane. Stop it! I don't need your sympathy. "After your episode, you understand we had to make sure you wouldn't go haywire again." he explains as he hands me the photograph. David Cross in the picture looks like how I used to look before I ended up in this hospital. But I no longer look like myself. This all doesn't make sense to me...

A few months later... 

So where are we now? Harborough Mental Health Facility, that's where we are. Been making some good progress. Doc says I'm doing very well. Been taking my medicines and I'm almost fully rehabilitated. Got used to my new face. I look pretty handsome if you ask me. Anyway, I went in to get my final assessment from Dr. Patel. He says I'm good to go. All I need to do now is wait for them to process my details and I'll be a new free man. They don't know I meant to kill Cross - or whatever his name was. Otherwise, this story would have gone in a whole other direction. Turns out I was David Cross all along. But I didn't own any of the cars and bungalow and shit. Just my name. David Cross, new reformed and rehabilitated man!

So a few days pass; they're still processing my stuff - finding me a place to live and a sponsor and what not. I was just minding my business, walking around the cafeteria. This guard, he's giving my the funny look from the other end of the cafeteria. I don't like it. I'm perfectly fine. Need to show him a thing or two. So I walk over to confront him and guess what? HE FUCKING LOOKS LIKE ME...

15 June 2016

Stranger - Part 1

The loud droning of the alarm wakes me up. I don't know if I can call myself a morning person, it's all just a matter of habit and routine. Walk into the bathroom and I see my face; probably need a shave. What's so special about me? What sets me apart from the folk you see walking down the street? How am I anymore unique than them? There isn't much to it really, I'm just your average guy; a face in the crowd. You'd have passed by me in the street and your brain wouldn't even have registered that you've seen me. I might end up as a person in your dream; I don't know. They say the faces you see in your dreams are ones that you've seen but don't consciously remember. So maybe somewhere in somebody's dream I am a face to be remembered, to be recalled. I practice smiling in the mirror. Different smiles, for different situations, different levels of amusement. They can't know what's really going on in my head. Look at that fucking face, disgusting. I want to cut it up with a fucking knife. Scar it all over, cut it up beyond recognition. Become somebody else altogether maybe. Start over. Hmm.

Work is shit. It drains the life out of me but if I wasn't working what the fuck else would I be doing? You fucking no good loser. You deserve nothing, absolutely nothing. I sometimes wish life was better but at the same time, I sometimes feel like this is all I'm entitled to. I see Donna smiling and flirting with some guy as I walk past the' admin' desk. That fuckin' whore screwing every guy in the office; she'll get it from me. She will. What do I do, you ask? Oh not much really, a low-level scum in the corporate world. A paper pusher literally, a mail boy... Yeah I deliver fucking mail within the office building. A mail boy! A nobody. But how funny things work out; change after all is the only constant in all of our lives.

I was just going about my job. Went into the new guy's office, some high position - prick didn't even acknowledge my presence in the room. Why would you, right? He had his chair turned away from the door and was busy talking on the phone. I walk over and place this tube thing that had his name and I looked up at the glass window and I see his reflection. Multiple waves of pins seemed to go from my head down. He looked exactly like ME! Every single detail on his face. Holy shit... I couldn't believe my eyes. I blinked rapidly to make sure what I was seeing was true. "You can go now. Thanks." he tells me in his disdainful tone without even looking back.

This guy, David Cross; I needed to know more about this man. What he does, where he lives, who he's with. I am obsessed. I've been following him for a month now. His life! My God his life is amazing. What I'd give to have a life like that. Senior partner at the firm, a company car, a bungalow in the suburbs and his wife or partner or whatever. Oh my God! What I'd give to have that. I've incorporated this into my routine, every Monday and Wednesday night; I get off about 5 blocks from the house, jog up to the bungalow. I always dress like I'm going for a run - less suspicious. I've watched them through the bushes and crouched under their windows. I've seen him cook, seen her clean, watched them make love in the bedroom...

I do believe it to be fate or Providence maybe. That my - what do they call it? Some German sounding word - doppelganger has to be revealed to me and he ends up having a better life than me; practically everything that I want. Humans are in a never ending chase, spending their entire life trying to become happy. But they don't see it as having enough rather they find the need to have more than the other guy. That's what determines success and happiness. "I've made it!" means I'm better off than the rest of the filthy scum. We end up comparing whatever we have to everyone else around us. I know I'm unhappy. I'm sure Cross is unhappy too despite having everything I would want. He sure seems unhappy; I see it in the way he kisses her, the way he looks at his car or his house, the way he interacts with his "friends". He's tired of life as well. Look at him, lying unconscious in the passenger seat, all tied up. WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE, DAVID! You're not coming back. I'm doing you a favour if you think about it. I'll gladly take your place! Get you away from this life that you so hate. You're crazy! Who me? I'm not crazy. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. New life. That job, the bungalow, this car all ours now! Going to fuck that broad first thing. HAHAHAHAHAHA...

I've been driving the Mercedes for a good 2 hours now along the highway. The drugs should last 4 hours. Enough time. We're far from the city now, I've turned into a side road away from the main highway. The roads are lined with thick dense woods on either side. Anywhere would be good. Just need a place to hide the car, in case someone comes along the road. Then it's bye-bye to you Mr. Cross. HAHA. Almost a peaceful way to go, if you ask me.
FUCK, He fucking woke up! What the fuck. I had 2 more hours. Motherfucker punched me in the eye. Can't fucking see where I'm going - am I bleeding?. Lost control of the car. I'm throwing my fist at him. I can feel my hand connect to his cheek. I'm frantically trying to steer with my other hand. Don't panic. We got this. Oh fuck...


Part 2 - http://wispywisdom.blogspot.sg/2016/06/stranger-part-2.html

27 March 2016

Everything is Preordained - Part 2

The being's face was expressionless; it showed no sense of emotion or feeling after having uttered a phrase so grave and grim. "People need to die, of course that happens on a daily basis. Natural deaths, diseases, hunger, murders, suicides; men, women and children. Everybody has to die eventually but once every few hundred years we need death and destruction on a much larger scale; a kind of reset button that has to be pushed. We had the plagues before but with man exploring, discovering and developing the sciences to advance the methods of warfare, I figured why not?"

The man tried to listen patiently trying to quell his now throbbing heart that beat like a drum. "Humans are the most developed animals on this Earth and yet your categorizations - things that you've come to perceive by your own - causes conflicts among yourselves. Race, religion, gender, political ideology - all things that you have created to distinguish yourselves from one another. Your need to be different, to stand out and be special drives you into conflicts, into WAR. Of course, you cannot expect them to be perfect beings. If everyone was perfect, there wouldn't be a God. A figure to look up to in times of need, times when you feel a divine intervention is necessary. Someone who is perfect and can guide you; that's when you look up and pray do you not? Despite countless opportunities that have been presented before the human race to turn from this behavior and to unite as one and live peacefully; you have failed repeatedly. Sin has become the norm. War is the solution to peace. Conflict after conflict that has no absolute resolution. I cannot send a 'Jesus' every time to die for your sins. I've given the choice to you and can merely guide you to the righteous path, what you choose at the end of the day is entirely your choice." the figure's voice was no longer calm and soothing. Anger and rage seemed to be physically manifested into the words that spat out from its mouth

"So your intentions just happened to align with my vision and goal for the human race? What if I had chosen differently? What if I never became the most feared tyrant in the world, then what?" asked the man, his curiosity aroused and his anger building. "If not you then someone else. Someone somewhere will have surely carried out mass killings, not your choice of people in particular but surely people would have died. What is the death of millions if it means I can save billions? It becomes an example, a sign that humans need to unite and stand together. Put their differences apart and come together. Death surprisingly does that - always brings people closer than life ever has and will. They'll learn what not to do and build a new world from these ashes. But of course some other sort of conflict will soon occur in a matter of decades because they will lose sight of where to go once again, the process repeats over and over like a circle." explained the being, now calmer and more conserved.

"So I ended up doing all the dirty work for you... A mere pawn in your elaborate chess game. But why me? Why not use some divine intervention?" questioned the man. "Divine intervention would mean something akin to God or God himself. If it wasn't God and God didn't stop it then what good is he? If it was God and he did it then is God truly good? People will question the power of God and then the existence. That cannot happen. People cannot know God is both good and evil... God has to be pure, God has to be all things good because if he possessed both opposing qualities then in the minds of the people, he is no different than themselves. He loses his power and divine status among them. He will no longer be pure in their eyes and that is when the blind sheep become blinder and stray from the herd heading straight for the cliff. One by one they will follow each other throwing themselves over until the whole herd is dead. The moment the belief in God no longer exists is when the destruction of the human race begins. The devil himself is merely an agent to God's will. 'I am the Alpha and the Omega' - the beginning and the end. 'The Lord gives and the Lord taketh away." Likewise, you were just an agent despite your thinking that this was all your will. Your rising to power, the death and destruction of millions of people, your wrong move to attack in winter, your loss in the war and now your death. I have seen everything, I know what is going to happen, I just choose not to change the outcome for that is how it needs to be. Everything is Preordained." the figure rose from the bed and walked over to the man.

"They're at the door..." it said.
"So tell me, how do I die?" said the man nodding and smirking having accepted his fate, whatever was preordained for him.
The figure smiled back. "Of course..." it said as its extremities began to fade until it vanished completely.


Metallic clanking came from the door as the enemy soldiers tried to crack it open. The man pulled out his revolver from its holster and checked the cylinder; six bullets was all that he had to stop whoever, whatever was behind the door. The man cocked the gun with his right hand and rested it on the arms of the chair aiming directly at the door. A small sudden blast blew through the metal lock on the door flinging it open. Smoke and dust erupted from the entrance blinding the soldiers momentarily. "I'm going to hell anyway right?" muttered the man as he looked up and raised the pistol. The click of the hammer and another short bang rang throughout the room. The soldiers took cover expecting a rain of bullets. But no other sound followed. They moved into the room cautiously with their rifles raised. The revolver fell from the man's hands. His mouth ajar and eyes looking up such that the soldiers could only see the whites of his eyes. A splatter of blood on the velvet cushion behind his head told everything the soldiers needed to know. It was over. It was preordained...

Everything is Preordained - Part 1

The pipes bellowed like a large monster waking from its slumber as the people stood up with heavy books in their hands, their faces in expressionless unison. The air was thick with smog and the walls of the church seemed like they could crumble at the slightest touch. The congregation started to sing as the words that came out of their mouths sounded more like chanting than singing. The choral voices and the bellowing of the organ metamorphosed into an angrier, larger monster. Voices of different pitches and loudness fighting one another to stand out.

Suddenly, the earth began to shake with the intensity increasing with every note of the organ. The voices were drowned by the sound of concrete crashing down. The sirens began to sound like a wailing child. The congregation turned into a stampede of animals rushing to the only exit as they trampled over the holy books and each other. The man in the robes at the alter was shouting, trying to get everyone to calm down for God was with them. "Do not be afraid my brothers and sister, we are in the house of the Lord. He will protect us." But this too was drowned by the blasts and the screaming of women and children. As the priest stretched out his arms to show that there was no safer place than inside the church itself, the roof came crashing down on him. His arms still outstretched but not moving. "Mama! Papa!" children cried in despair. The raging inferno engulfed everything in and around it. People ran in every direction, hurt and in pain - sometimes in flames. Bomb after bomb rained down from the sky as the earth shook in horror. The streets were covered in dust and dead bodies.

High in the fortified tower, a lone room was locked and heavily guarded by men with rifles in uniform. Men willing to protect and die for the man inside the room. The man of the year. The room had a large king sized bed with birch frames beside which stood a drawer with a table lamp on it. On the far right corner of the room a man was sitting on a chair covered in velvet cushions and gold. His worn-out brown uniform decorated with numerous medals and patches. His eyes were dark, his face worn and expressionless as he put the tips of his fingers together resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly and slowly closed his eyes, listening to the thudding of the bombs and the screams of innocent lives. No natural light entered the room save a tiny opening the size of a brick to his left from which he could see the world perish - if he wanted to. Bright flashes of crimson filled his closed eye lids as sirens wailed and structures crumbled.

"What are you thinking?" asked a voice. The voice of a man, so soothing, so familiar - like how he had imagined it his whole life. The man opened his eyes slowly and looked up. A strange figure stood before him, it seemed to glow and shimmer despite the lack of light. The being was dressed in some kind of white robe, the whitest he had seen. The man squinted his eyes to get a clearer look at the face but could not quite see it. The figure crossed its hands together and leaned in as if to urge the man to give him an answer. The man's furrows brows widened as intrigue gave way to recognition and relief. "You?! I was expecting the other guy..." he said in a tone of surprise with a tinge of disappointment.

"I just wanted to talk to you, you know before"

"Before I'm shot to death..." said the man completing the sentence. "Why though? How does it matter? Is my fate not already sealed? What could you possibly want to talk about?" questioned the man. The figure stood silent, hands still clasped together. "I know that you want to say and ask a few things, so go on..." urged the figure. The sirens and screaming seemed to have stopped. Silence filled the room. The world seemed to stand still.

"What I have done are all justified in my eyes. They're what I wanted, what I desired for this world. Absolute destruction." said the man after a lot of thought, playing the conversation in his head. "That is correct, you're considered history's greatest tyrant. What you've done will forever be remembered, studied, analysed. People will write stories, books even about you and your actions. Your legacy." said the figure.
"My question is, if all of it is wrong then why did you stand by and watch? Why didn't you stop it? You could've stopped it right from the beginning. Nipped it in the bud. But you didn't! You stood and watched. So tell me why? Why me?!" said the man filled with rage as he sunk his nails deep into the arms of the chair. The figure slowly walked over to the bed and sat down, all the while silent and staring at the man, almost as if it could see into his soul. It brought its hands together and put the tips to its lips. The room was cloaked in silence.

Finally it spoke "Kill a few to save the many."


10 January 2015

New Worlds - Short Story

"We have been watching Earth for years now. Seen them evolve from mindless apes to a civilized race of living beings" said Calder. 
"Yes but look at them now, fighting over divisions that they have created among themselves. Race, religion, wealth, ethnicity etc. It's ridiculous. Our race is so much more civilized and advanced compared to them. There's nothing we can learn from them; only they can learn from us. But they are not as advanced to communicate or even locate us in the Universe." replied Tadeas. 
"That is not the point of observing them. They are the only other living beings in our known universe. It is comforting to know we are not alone. Our race is much more advanced, yes, but that is because we are a much older planet. Their planet is young, their resources are sufficient. Calder and Tadeas were students who would one day lead Craeura and their citizens. 

YEAR 2169:
"Space exploration is the next leap for mankind. We are here in an age of fear and curiosity. The greater our knowledge increases, the greater our ignorance unfolds. We could not have imagined that man could set foot on the moon 200 years ago. But we did it and here we are setting out to go further than we ever have before." said the President. "From learning how to paint on cave walls to now setting out on our quest for knowledge. We as humans have come a long way. We choose to do what is hard, we choose a challenge that propels us as a race. This mission is a collective effort of every country on Earth. Every man, woman and child have contributed towards this. This is the most dangerous, daring and greatest adventure of which man has ever embarked." 

The crowds cheered as the large screens now showed the view of the large spaceship. Men and Women of every race & religion stood by to watch this great event unfold. Today, they stand as humans, not divided by any categorization whatsoever. "Stand by for lift off" said an electronic voice inside the astronaut's helmet. The mission was to set out on a journey to the stars to find solar systems with planets that had Earth-like qualities that could sustain life. A team of 30 members, the best in their discipline picked to take the next big step for mankind. The alarm rang to inform all personnel to stand by at their respective stations. "Lift off in 10.. 9.." the voice began counting down. Crowds on every major city gathered to watch on their television screens to see the spectacle. "5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. Lift off!" said the TV presenter. The crowds roared with joy as the spaceship ascended into the heavens.

ON CRAEURA:
"It is happening!" cried Calder. "Get our children to the bunker. I'll be down soon." 
Calder as President of Craeura, had to make a speech first to inform the nation that Doomsday was upon them. That hope was not lost but that everyone must find shelter and go to their bunkers which were specifically designed by the scientists to withstand the explosion that would be created by the impact. "Citizens of Craeura, do not be afraid. We all knew this day would come and we have prepared ourselves well for it. Follow the procedures in your survival bunkers. If all goes well, I will see you again once this has passed." 

Calder was rushed to the bunker by the security personnel. Inside his wife and children were waiting huddled up together. "It'll be okay" he said to his children whose faces were heavy with confusion and fear. "I promise" he said even though he knew he really could not keep that promise. Nobody knew what would happen. Nobody could predict anything because they did not know any living beings surviving an asteroid impact so large. Earth's early living beings were wiped out in similar circumstances hundreds of years ago. Calder held his wife's hand and embraced his children with his other hand. 

The asteroid also brought with thousands of smaller rocks that hurtled down first, crashing into anything and everything that existed. Calder watched his monitor screen which showed various parts of the city. People who did not get to a safe place were hit by the boulders and squished. Vehicles and buildings exploded. It dawned upon Calder that the bunkers were not going to be enough to withstand this. They were not going to survive it. It was the end of their world as they knew it. 


Time seemed to slow down as the tip of the asteroid made contact with the surface. The large rock seemed to fuse into Craeura as a ring of fire emerged from the impact, expanding outwards, growing larger and larger. Calder closed his eyes and hugged his children tighter as if to suffocate them. Minutes later, the planet stood still. Not an organism moved because there was not an organism left to move. Everything had perished and the land was barren, rid of all buildings. So empty that it seemed like nothing remotely living ever existed. 

On Spaceship 1: 
"Sir, you need to see this. Our detectors have picked up a signal. It's not from Earth..." said John. 
Captain Russell studied the readings with furrowed brows. He was not yet considering the possibility of aliens, for all it mattered he was not the speculative type. "Can we trace it?" he asked after a long pause. "I can try" replied John. 
The ship's thrusters rattled with power as she prepared for warp drive. The crew of 30 representing mankind was about to begin something that would carry on for generations and generations. And if they were successful, it would be a victory for humanity as a whole. The moment was certainly overwhelming. 

Craeura:
Dust swirled in miniature tornadoes as a gust of wind blew by. Clouds dark and heavy loomed in the distance ready to break out into a storm. Water droplets started falling from the clouds, wetting the dirt, turning to mud. Far away in the distance, a tiny object appeared. It moved closer and closer towards the planet, turning to avoid the storm and land safely. The spaceship entered the atmosphere and thrusters reversed their direction to counter the gravity of Craeura. 

YEAR C.984:
He put his one eye to the looking device while closing the other. His face filled with curiosity and confusion.
"We have been watching Earth for years now. Seen them evolve from mindless apes to a civilized race of living beings" he said...