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Cyber Rat's Scribbles

Cyber Rat

By Cyber Rat,
in Entertainment Exchange

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Cyber Rat Newbie

Cyber Rat

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Looks like we don't have a creativity forum anymore (Boo!), so I'm gonna make a thread here, since I'll try and entertain you with some of my writing.

 

I actually write all "non-Internet" stuff in Serbian (since, you know, I'm Serbian), but another forum had a thread where we post our writing, and everyone urged me to translate some of my stuff.

 

tl;dr: I wrote these. They were originally in Serbian, but I translated them. They're from Creative Writing class and 2 years old. Cheers.

 

Cash Only

 

He would have been enveloped in complete darkness, were it not for the torches on the four pillars nearby.

"Dragutin... Dragutin... Dragutin..." one could hear echoing from afar, accompanied by the sound of a lawnmower.

 

"You're dead, Dragutin," the voice getting closer. "You kicked the bucket, you're smelling daisies from the other side, you're as dead as a door nail. It's over, my boy."

 

The lawnmower finally arrived, looking more like a small tractor. Driving it was a skeleton in black pants and a black hoodie with the line "#1 Reaper" written on the chest. He lowered the megaphone and leaned forward on the steering wheel.

 

"Who are you?" asked Dragutin.

 

"Come on, my boy, you're not that dense."

 

"I'm dead?"

 

"Excellent deductive skills. I assume it was my unearthly lawnmower that gave me away?"

 

"But... this isn't right!"

 

"It's not?"

 

Death looked over the lawnmower: "Looks fine to me. Even had it checked yesterday... Oh! You mean the fact that you're dead! One moment and I'll see if that's a mistake."

 

The Reaper took out a laptop from a bag behind his seat and turned it on.

 

"Give me a moment, this thing takes forever to boot up."

 

Dragutin just stared in silence.

 

"There it be! Dragutin Milivoevich, age 22, run over by a Fiat Punto. Hmm... People are usually run over by Mercedes, but I guess a Fiat isn't to be underestimated either."

 

"Can't I get... a second chance?"

 

"No."

 

"But why?"

 

"Because it wouldn't be fair towards all the other people who've died."

 

"But... but... I wanted to do so much with my life!"

 

"Dragutin, you didn't know what to do with a Saturday morning, let alone a whole life."

 

"Now I know! Please!"

 

"That's how it usually goes, but sorry, the Big Guy upstairs has clear rules about these things. Even that one time 2000 years ago was a stretch..."

 

"I challenge you to a game of chess!"

 

It was difficult to discern Death's reaction when it heard these words, partially because it had no face, but one could easily sense the disdain in the air.

 

"Every single damn time, they want to play chess with me. Dragutin, lemme ask you something? Do you even know where that motif originally came from, or did you just hear it referenced on TV? Out of all the games in the world, you people always want to play chess, and I manage to checkmate almost every single one of you in three moves. If you were a chess champion, I'd understand, but why can't we play, oh, I don't know? Poker? Mortal Kombat? Whatever?"

 

"But... I uh..."

 

"Come on, you wuss, Mortal Kombat! You can even pick Sub-Zero for all I care!"

 

"I don't play video games..."

 

"That's right, Dragutin, you don't play video games. Neither did you play chess, or write poems, or prose, or play an instrument. You were just a nice guy who did his job."

 

"And now I'm dead..."

 

"And now you're dead."

 

"If I'm dead, and nothing can be done about it, what's the point of this conversation?"

 

"I was testing out my lawnmower and was just passing by."

 

 

How a Dream Became Man

 

Around me is chaos, uproar, a compound of slugged voices. It takes me a few eternities to adjust. The end and beginning of every instance marked by flashes from the crowd. I tell myself they're cheering for me. In front of me: the enemy. A compound of flesh and blood held together by a contour. I can't lift my arms. I can barely focus my sight. The carrion prepares to strike. I feel a strong pressure on my face, but no pain. As if my face and his fist were two magnets, repelling each other.

 

Everything goes black, as I slowly rip through space and air, until I finally feel the hard floor on my back. People cheer, irrelevant for whom. I can hear infinities die, be born and a bell which signals the end of all.

 

Before I open my eyes, I hear nothing. I'm in a hospital bed, who knows how long. Around me a world, but it's as if I'm no longer a part of it. Everything is fast forward. I can discern the sights: a television, a pot, a window, the floor, the ceiling, but the light on them keeps changing.I can discern people, but only see them briefly. One wore pink, one was black, one was a doctor. It's too fast to tell all the details. A woman points towards me, then someone in a white coat arrives, probably a doctor. He comes and goes. They come and go. Come and go. The sun rises and sets. Why is everything so fast? Why has it been just a few seconds?

 

I decide to get up from my bed. People come to me, but can't reach me. As if I'm a magnet that repels them. I walk out of the room at a slower pace. Around me are people, but they're too fast for me to see their faces. They look around, look at each other, come and go. Compounds of flesh and blood held together by a contour. Maybe I got hit too hard. I'm not stupid, I could see the clocks, the days change. I was slow, or they were fast. But it all felt like a dream. This isn't a coma. Maybe I'm dead. But everyone can see me? They react to me. A ghost? Or just a wretch?

 

I leave the hospital. In front of the entrance there is a crowd, among them the army and two tanks. The soldiers approach me with guns aimed at me. Immediately, two try to grab me, but can't. I stood there for a few days and then continued to walk. The uproar follows, and the people form a circle around me, following as well. After a few days, a silhouette draws near. I recognize it, it's her. She puts a sheet of paper held by a weight on the sidewalk. She comes and goes as I read what she wrote.

"I miss you."

 

I can't grab the pen, it keeps sliding away. I start to draw my finger in the air above the paper. She writes with the pen, following my finger. I only move while she's there.

 

"I miss you too."

 

"Do you feel alright?"

 

"Like swimming"

 

"How do we fix this?"

 

"Don't know"

 

"It's been 6 months, I don't know what to do!"

 

I want to answer her, but don't know how. I think fast. What can she hope for? What can I hope for? I draw my finger.

"Time won't wait for you. Go."

 

She stops coming back. Everyone stops coming back. The military sets signs in my way. The signs tell me where to go "for everyone's sake." I follow them, I leave the city, I start to wander.

 

Years pass, decades, eternities. The sky lights up a few times. I'm in a desert. No humans, the cities are empty. The deserts become meadows. The meadows become forests. Not a living soul to be found. I continue to wander.

 

I encounter a single red flower in the field. I watch it for a few days, but it doesn't grow. I cut the stalk with my hands as if they were scissors, palms up. The flower falls into my palms, flying just above them, but as I bring it closer to my face, it withers. I had just picked the flower, and it was already as old as me.

 

 

Since this is a gaming forum, I have no doubt most of you can guess what the first one was inspired by.

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Hot Heart Newbie

Hot Heart

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OK, I read them and they are good! I particularly like the punchline and the Seventh Seal reference in the first one.

 

Since this is a gaming forum, I have no doubt most of you can guess what the first one was inspired by.

 

I'm not too sure of all the details but I'm assuming GTA is the inspiration? Or is there more to it than that?

 

Also, noticed a slight mistake in the second: 'I cut the stalk with me hands'.

 

Keep up the good work! And did YOU read any of MY scripts? You might like SuperZeroes.

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Hot Heart Newbie

Hot Heart

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Send me the pdf for SuperZeroes!

 

And the first one was mostly inspired by Conker's Bad Fur Day for the N64.

 

Oh, I never got to play that. Always wanted a copy of the Xbox remake...

Doesn't the grim reaper in that game have the same name as me? (Which I discovered from a thing on the old forum about sharing game character names). I approve!

 

I shall send you a link to the latest SuperZeroes draft on my Dropbox!

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