Lost in thought by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

From Elves insurrection

This one is actually one to consider. The life span of us mortals is very short. We contemplate death. So much so that we now have transplants, medicines and such. They now predict that we possibly could live into an age of 120 or more. Some chose cryogenics. What they really want is immortality so they do not face death.

Live! Being immortal sucks

Being immortal, on paper, sounds good. Never being sick. You can’t be killed and if you are injured, you heal almost in an instant. Sounds good doesn’t it. What about death?

Don’t make friends, never get married, you cannot live in one place for more than twenty years because you don’t age. Living amongst people becomes drudgery because their whining about things that are so trivial actually makes me sick. Try not having the relief of knowing that someday, you will have this shell stop working and have that glorious luxury of going to the final life.

How did this happen to me? That is a story in itself. A tale of both stupidity and horror. You see, I was born normal. I lived my childhood normal. It was not until around twenty that I started to become twisted. I became one of those who doubted that there was anything other than living.

There was no such thing as the gods let alone an afterlife. No consequences for what you do. You die and that is it. Nothing. With that I enjoyed debauchery to its fullest. That old saying, I lived it. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you die.

All this time, I was causing the people who loved me, parents, relatives and even the females that thought they loved me, so much grief and anguish. I did not care, I had to live, I was going to just fade out when I die.

The drugs I last took worked too well. I woke in a room and thought that I again was in a hospital. There was a difference. There is none of the things that are in a hospital room. No oxygen, no intravenous drips, no nurses running in the hall, for that fact, it seems like there is no hall.

Now that I was awake, I tried to get up and leave but I could not. I could move my arms and legs but it was like I was strapped to the bed. Now people just appear. They are actually laughing at me. I have to get out of here. The more I struggle the tighter the bonds.

They get serious. One of them comes to the bed side. ”We are those gods that do not exist. You are dead but your real body is going to be revived. This room is part of that nonexistent realm you called the afterlife. We do exist. The final life is real. The only thing you are right about is oblivion but It is not for you.”

Another approaches me and continues. “We have changed your real body. You are now immortal. Nothing can harm you now. You will never age a second from your present age. Now for the biggest thing. No drug will have any effect on you. Drink a gallon or more of alcohol you still will be stone cold sober. If you try drugs or drink you will vomit it out instantly.”

Yet another says, “This is your punishment. You actually feared that oblivion thought so you drove all from you. Now you must learn what it is to be immortal. Even we gods get tired from being immortal. You need to really feel what everyone else, that loved you, felt every time you were carted off to the hospital. You hang around and watch them die but then you may be called a demon because you won’t age.”

Now the last finishes, “No real friends, isolated, no permanent place to call home. You will learn exactly what it means to be truly alone. You will know that feeling of immortal misery. This is your new lot in life. Know this, your life was planned to be married with a family. That family was going on to affect the worlds future towards a world peace but you messed it up. You will never forget that fact. Sometime in that very distant future if you finally learn, you may be pitied but don’t count on it. Now you are going to wake and remember all but you will not be able to tell anyone. Welcome to your nomadic life.”

Now I am in a real hospital and I am panicking. Then my mind rationalizes it as a hallucination. I suddenly hear in my mind someone laughing as they tell me “No it wasn’t” then I hear them all laugh.

The hospital is totally beside itself. Within a day, my body has fully recovered. There was no reason to hold me so I was discharged. My drug buddies met me and handed me a beer. I chugged it and as soon as it went in, it came out. Much to the amusement of them.

It was the first conformation that what I experienced was real.

Drugs no longer had an effect on me. There was no drug or drink that would work on me. Finally those drug buddies were no longer accepting me. I was told in no uncertain terms not to return because I was a waste of drugs. The others could use them.

Years go by and now people see me not aging. At first I passed it off as genetics but when my own started to die, I could see family looking at me. The term “made a deal with the devil” was uttered quite a few times.

I needed to leave when I had death threats aimed at me. The hate was too thick. I have learned that I cannot stay in one place. Pleasures are just not there. Always in my mind is do not get close. After a while I am starting to envy those who do not have to live in exile from the human race.

I now know that I do not belong so I go deep into the wilderness and tried the hermit life. I have remade a cave into my home. That was good for almost a hundred years then I heard the sound of chainsaws. People are making their homes here. Invading my peace. Soon there was a few police at the entrance of my cave. They served me papers to evict me for squatting.

It was stupid but I tried to argue that I have been here for decades. All they did was laugh and ask me if I was born here. Nothing I could do. I packed some of my possessions and left. I just went in the direction my feet took me. It does not matter.

I need to do something. Just existing is not making it but isn’t that what got me into this in the first place.

For the first time since this horror started, I feel like I can see a direction that I want to take. That is not right. It is the direction that I need to take. I am now walking towards humanity. I have an idea and I need to look it.

There were plenty of charities that will give you a makeover. Clip and clothes but I wanted to have the look of someone who has been through it all and now is clawing his way back. In other words, no suit and tie with polished shoes.

Now I really feel different. I look different.

There was a local hang out. The corner where my old type hung out. Approaching they look at me and are cautious about me. I sit and just let them get used to me and then I start my tale.

“My life was one of no where to go and all the time to get there. I lived with the fear of oblivion. I knew that there was nothing after this. One bad dose, I knew I had died and was in a room that was not my hospital room. There were people there and each told me of my folly. They told me that oblivion does exist or should I say is an absence of anything. Being sent there means it’s over. It’s as if you never existed.”

I can see that they know exactly what I am relating. Now I can start.

“That oblivion is the reason I kept myself high. I feared nothing. I do not mean I was fearless, quite the opposite. I feared the nothing. That subconscious fear caused me to stay high. Those people showed me that there is an afterlife, what they called the final life. I was told that it is tranquil and for eternity but you don’t go until you get life right. What if you had a chance to never face oblivion but never see that final life. Never worry about dying but there is a catch. You can never get high on anything. No matter how much you drink, never get even a hint of being even buzzed. Same with drugs.

Going through the years, existing, watching people live and die. Existing year after year for hundreds of years. That is my lot in this life. I was like you, I was just existing. Unlike you, I did not choose right. Right now, you can choose, life or oblivion

Life is not to exist, it is to be lived. I am immortal. I have seen all I knew die and I don’t age.”

I take a knife out and slit my wrist. They gasp as the cut spirt twice and then closed without a trace.”

“I cannot die. I have existed for hundreds of years, in a cave until people came and threw me out. It took me untold hundreds of years to realize that I only existed. I now choose to live. I invite you, each of you to join life and live so you can go to the final life.”

Giving it my all feels great. Better than I have ever felt. I never felt that it would happen but four of the five want to get clean. They see those people appear. They are the same as I had visit me. They took the one with them and in no time, that one is back. The other four go with them.

All five are back. The people now tell me that they have been cured, no detox. These will be my core group. We are not to do this for our profit but to help others. We roam together and now are invited to talk. Our price is transport and board. We are now in demand.

Over the years we have trained others and they have the same ethics. That is good, because the five have gone off and now have families. The ones with me now have the same dedication to life.

I, long ago, resigned myself to watching the new come in to replace those who need to meet their own destiny. Now it does not bother me because each have lives to live. Something does not feel right, I am now having aches. I have not felt anything for eons.

This is new. I very rarely look in a mirror but this morning, the room that I have has one of those floor to ceiling mirrors. There standing before me was a middle aged man. He looks familiar but I am both elated and panicked.

Now I am back in that room I was in so long ago. Those people are here but this time, all are smiling at me.

“You finally have found yourself. This is where you needed to be way back in the beginning. It has been long enough. You have found out what you really needed to know.”

They produce a mirror. I really am shocked. I am that one holdout that I first talked to. I don’t know what was happening and I show it. “I was in the hospital when you first took me. How can this be?”

“While you sat on the wall being the only hold out, we showed you what your next day was going to be. We put you into the hospital scene, then we let you run. All those years were real. Trying to get high or drunk. Having to move, the hermit hundreds of years. It took that time to make you realize that you were only existing.”

One of the others takes up the explanation. “We even altered how you saw yourself. That was necessary for you to find yourself. How does it feel to finally see what you could become. The choice is now yours. Existence or oblivion?”

I am actually crying. How stupid could I be. I was being given a hand up. I was being invited to live. I reached out and asked to be allowed to live again as the stupid being. Remembering what it was to know what a ruined life really is. Opportunities lost, friends lost, families lost.

Isn’t that what being immortal really is? No longer part of life.

Finding myself back on that bench, looking at a man holding out his hand. He just smiles and says, “I invite you to stand up, take my hand and live.” This time, I do not hesitate. I grab the elderly man’s hand and felt that all desires for drugs and alcohol fade away.

I made my way with him for a few weeks but then he told me that it was time for me to face my loved ones and just talk to them. He asked me if I wanted him to go with me. Knowing that this needed to be me, I thanked him but this needed to be on my own.

“Thank you for the offer but I must show them that I am standing by my own choice. Standing and facing all the hurt I have caused. I need to explain oblivion and most of all I need to tell them that, even if they don’t believe me, I am going on and living.”

He smiles at me and tells me that I have put my foot on the right path. I smile because I see that he is one of the ones that took me to that room.

Shaking his hand, I turn and set my eyes on the future.

A short story related to an event in the Demons Daughter

This takes place in the town that Brad and Brenda Jenkins take over a failing business. They are showing her father Deven Satten, demon lord, that they can succeed at running a business. Brad is a normal human but his wife, Brenda, is a halfling harpy. She can turn into a full harpy but her normal form is female but with claws for feet.

They both have a different view on running a business. Spend money to make money. Build rather than bust apart. As Brad expresses, you cannot get the big contracts with a sandwich tray. That is why he opened the closed restaurant.

Envy

Envy, the insidious disease that rots life from the inside out. Like a cancer, it just eats away at you. I know, I have it still. My town, my poor town. It was all but dead. The main street was almost nothing but empty buildings. The last things open are the local grocery store and the remnants of the main employer in this small town. It was only a matter of time until that closes.

One day a couple showed up and announced that they bought that shop and wanted to restore it back to the way it was. They were good to their word. They started to rebuild the base business then expanded.

They took interest in the town and brought back several shops including the restaurant. They even helped the grocery store. The man, Brad, told us that it was vital to the employees that lived in the town. That was most of them. They were talented and the town rode on their coat tails.

We were even able to be in a position to finally break ground on a new town hall. It was overdue.

The first sign that envy was taking hold was when someone started talking about how they were buying up the town. Soon it would be nothing but theirs.

We have quite a few of other races, mostly goblins. A lot of them were second or third generation residents but that did not matter. Most were working at the plant. They bought all their food locally. Paid their tax’s, they were good citizens. But now they were invading.

His wife was a harpy halfling. For quite a few of these human town’s folk, she was now that half breed. The topper was that her father was a demon lord.

I had been caught up in this. I had a full blown anger with then stealing our town out from under us. They had no right. I called a town meeting, restricted to the human population. Didn’t want the invading races to try to take over the meeting.

We were having the meeting and the subject was that her father was the devil and was going to take our souls when they came in. He raised his hand and voiced the major fears. There was shouting at him. He stood there and told us that he had the solution to our problem.

He was moving to the next town. Then he dropped the bomb.

He not only was moving but the plant was also. He closed up all his holdings in town. Even went so far as to demand his portion of the grocery store. He had it in the contract that they could demand full payment of their investment. The store had gone into foreclosure.

Then he told us that we were a dead town when he got here and now, he was out of here.

Panic gripped us as we saw all the moving trucks lined up. He and his wife got into their car and the very long caravan of trucks followed them out of town. He had invited all his employees to move with him. All of those goblins sold their houses and moved. Most of the humans also.

The strange thing was that as soon as their houses went on the market, they were sold for the list price. The buyer paid all closing costs. Within a short time, there were empty lots with nothing but grass where the houses once stood.

There were whole streets that were gone. I don’t mean that they were just lawns with a street running through it. Whoever is buying the houses, is pulling up the roads, removing all the electric poles. Nothing but open meadows are taking over the town.

Our partially built town hall went into foreclosure. We could not pay anyone. The bonds went unpaid beyond the grace period. Absolutely no money.

You see, they had made conditions in this town so inviting that other manufacturing plants came here. When the couple left, we had to raise taxes to pay for the bonds we floated. We raised them so high that they left. So did other residents. More meadows.

Finally, the town was dead. The only ones left were the group that were the worst grumblers. That included me. Someone had long since bought up all the empty buildings and the partially built new town hall. They were now gone.

All we did was wallow in our self pity as we drove to that thriving town to get food and our gas.

The town hall was just a meeting place where we all sat and agree that this was all that couple’s fault. One day, a stately gentleman comes into our pity party and tells us that he is here to finish this town. He had bought up our mortgages, you see to keep this cemetery of a town going, we even mortgaged the town properties.

The lawyers with him presented each of us the papers demanding payment in full. Outside we heard the sound of the wrecking crew’s equipment revving their engines. He has already taken possession of the town hall in foreclosure proceeding.

We were ushered out and watched as they loaded all the records, boxed up, into a state owned truck for the state archives. Then the hall itself went into a chain of dumpsters then taken to a recycling center. Our homes quickly followed.

On my last trip through, there was only the main road going through the town left. All poles, signs and such were gone. Funny thing is, the only thing left here is the town cemetery on the outskirts of town. All you can see is the rows of granite grave stones and that giant mausoleum.

Brad was right when he told us that this town was dead when he got here, he brought it to life and now it was dead.

Where that town hall was, there is a long drive and you could see that a mansion was being built.

That gentleman saw me looking and came over to me. “You were mayor here, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was until that bastard killed it.” I was angry.

He ever so calmly looked at me. “He did not kill this town. You let it slip out from under you. Envy of his success is what killed it. You started to envy his success and then went to personal attacks. No” and he poked me in the chest, “your envy killed it. That beautiful woman you insulted, her father owned the corporation that originally tore apart that company in this town. That devil, that you yourself called him, is now turning it over to them. Brad’s way of doing business is the right way. They will grow it into a business that anyplace will welcome.”

Then he hit home. “I’m building this mansion as a wedding gift to my daughter. You see she is going to marry into their family. I, as the demon emperor, want my daughter to have this modest home. One last thing I need to tell you. It is a historical fact that the town’s founder’s mausoleum, in that cemetery, is the grandfather of that devil you feared. May the rest of your life be haunted by this one hard fact that you let envy drive out the one that would have made this town the major hub of manufacturing in this country. You and your towns people would have been rich beyond your dreams. Instead, you live in your car. Your wife and children have left you. Now get that rolling home of yours off my land.”

With that, the guards took me to my car and followed me out.

Envy. He is right. Envy is the reason I am homeless and living out of my car. I am trying to get south before winter sets in. I am not eating every day. Money for the gas. Envy is gone from me. Survival has taken its place. I think I will change my name, get new papers and apply to one of their companies for a janitor’s position.”