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Fuji-Jufi t1_ivcl62f wrote

"One scotch on the rocks." The bartender, dressed in a typical white-button down and black vest, says as he places my drink in front of me.

"Thanks," I mutter drunkenly, looking at him and sliding my drink towards me.

He says something in response, but my attention has dissipated, and subsequently, his voice is drowned out in the music and conversations. I lift my body weight off the bar and stumble back towards my table. Bumping into people as I go. Colors erupt out of their bodies and into my mind with each one.

Green and nurturing - 25 Years left - Cancer - engineer - analytical. Son of two, father of two, brother of none.

Orange and confused - 65 Years left - Complications with age - businesswoman - creative/analytical. Mom of two, sister of one, daughter of two.

Yellow and vibrant - 2 Years left - Car accident - architect- artistic. Son of two, Cousin of one, brother of none.

With each person I bump into, their whole remaining life flashes into my mind. So easy to dissect each one. Yet, in my drunken state, I can't help but think about the first time it happened. When it was maddening and impossible to control.

I was in first grade, and my best friend, Ruth, kissed me on the cheek. I collapsed on the ground, seizing, and my eyes rolled back. Then, I started chanting unfamiliar words as Ruth ran away screaming. Seconds later, her life force flew into my mind. It was a vibrantly beautiful pink soul:

3 days - Car Accident.

Several days later, in the hospital, where doctors had run several tests and concluded this a “freak accident,” I awoke screaming, scared, and confused. Somehow managing to calm down after only a few minutes. Once I had calmed down, my parents partially explained what had happened.

After hearing what I had done, I felt terrible and asked if Ruth was okay. My parents looked at each other.

"Oh, don't worry about Ruth, she'll be fine. She's in a batter place," they said.

But even then, I understood what that meant, "Was it a crash?" I asked, choking up on the verge of a breakdown.

My parents were shocked that I knew and started questioning me rather than providing much need emotional support. I told them the truth repeatedly, but they merely scolded me for lying. I still remember the sting of their words as I pleaded with them that I was telling the truth.

"We know you're sad Karin, but it's never good to lie."

Eventually, they decided that I must've heard them talking while unconscious. And told me not to make up any more stories, especially in serious situations.

With my best friend dead and my parents branding me a liar, I cried for days, feeling distraught and alone, and decided to keep my power a secret.

All the "Freak Accidents" were like this in the beginning. Often leaving me incapacitated for days, where I would unconsciously "scream gibberish," according to my doctors. Then, waking up in the hospital days later, knowing when the time would expire for yet another person. Eventually, I was diagnosed with Epilepsy and given medication. Medication that never worked and constantly changed. After that, most of my childhood was spent bouncing in and out of hospitals and therapy.

Upon growing older, I started understanding my power, as Friends, families, and pets started dying when I had foreseen. At first, I could only dissect the time of death of those with whom I had established a strong emotional connection. Eventually, however, no one could escape the prowess of my ability, and their whole lives unraveled in my head. Even the side effects got better with time until they were virtually nonexistent. Friends, Family, and Doctors celebrated as they believed my Epilepsy had gone into remission. Only I knew the truth.

A couple years later, after dropping out of college, I became a famous fortune teller on the black market. Bouncing around from city to city, wherever the highest bidder resided.

Suddenly, I'm pulled back into reality. I drop my drink, and it shatters on the floor. I whip my head around, searching to find the person who just bumped into me. Several stop and look at me, but I'm unconcerned.

Nothing. No color, emotions, abilities, or lifestyle. No future. No death. Where? Where are they? I look around frantically. Then I see them, the only person in the bar whose life I can't recall.

A tall woman with black sunglasses and a long dark overcoat. Her stride was peculiar and rushed as if she was running from something… trying to blend in with the crowd.

"Hey, wait!" I scream, towards the woman, as I steer towards her.

She turns and sees me. Her face goes grey with fear, and she bolts out the side door.

I run after her and burst into the alley behind the bar. I glimpse her figure as she dips around the corner and out of sight.

I run around the corner after and watch as she slips into another bar. I follow quickly, nearly tripping over the doorstep.

I burst into the bar, swinging the doors open crazily and panting loudly. Only to be met by silence.

The bar is empty, except for the woman standing there.

"Hello Karin, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

—-

Fuji Jufi Writes

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SamuelVimesTrained t1_ivejjrg wrote

wow.. Now I want part 2.. what`s next..

​

pretty please?

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Fuji-Jufi t1_ivgk5y8 wrote

So glad you liked it, I’ll try to get another part out in the next 24 hours!!

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Fuji-Jufi t1_ivhfhrm wrote

Part 2

She motions at a nearby table, "please sit. We have a lot to cover."

I cautiously sit down, confused about who she is and what is happening. In all my years, this has never happened before, "I'm sorry. Do I know you?" I ask bluntly as she sits down across from me.

"Ah, yes. I apologize for all the cloak and dagger; my name's Kaye. I'm your current client. Please excuse my rudeness for running away earlier; I had to test your ability." She says warmly, extending her hand.

I shake it slowly with my right, sliding my left hand down my leg towards my concealed revolver. My client, huh? I'm not currently contracted. My hand grows close to my 9mm; I've learned this life is a dangerous game, and seeing people's remaining life isn't the only power I've got keeping me in it. She lets go of my hand and appears to overlook my suspicion.

"I'm surprised," she continues. "You come highly recommended on the market for knowing everything about a person with just a touch. It seems this must've been an exaggeration, like most things are these days. You must have seen something, though, to recognize me just from our arms grazing; quite impressive. But you failed to ascertain at least a few things about me, it seems." She says, a devilish smile spreading across her face.

I remain deathly silent, at a loss for words, knowing the wrong ones could very well be my last. As for this time, I get the sense that I am the pawn, and she is the seer. Our moves are all but predetermined; I am just blind as to their result. My hand reaches the gun and pulls it out of its holster, cocking it softly. Not realizing how nervous I had been, I finally breathed.

The woman smiles, "you've come prepared, I see. But, alas, so have I; if violence is the game you wish to play." I hear the slight cock of another gun under the table.

My heart nearly leaps out of my body. Damn, she got me. "Who are you?" I finally muster, my hand tightly wrapped around the gun, my finger resting on the trigger.

She laughs heartily. "I already told you," she says in kind. "I'm your client, Kaye."

"No, who are you?" I say unwaveringly.

She smiles, "well, since you put it so politely..." she says, rolling her eyes. "That gun under the table, what's it do?"

I sit there blankly and repeat my question, "Who are you?"

"Oh joy, I can see you are good at answering questions too!"She says sarcastically. "It's no ordinary gun, now is it? No, no, not at all. You can actually shoot people's memory's into their minds, can't you?"

Sweat rolls down my face, and I tighten the grip on my gun. So much so that I can feel my knuckles whitening, trying not to implode from the stress of my grasp. However, incapable of mustering up the courage, I stay silent.

"Nothing to say, huh?" She continues. "Well, I'll keep going then. This power suits two particular functions. One, you can help clients regain their memories by fusing their life into the bullets. Or two, and this is my favorite; you can destroy someone's mind by infusing several people's lives into a bullet. Subsequently, the person dies because they cannot handle the information overload. Or their brain is effectively destroyed, leaving them a shell of a human being to be left on life support forever. Never being able to distinguish between their memories and someone else's. Never to know who they are again." She says, smiling.

"Yeah, you know what my power does. So what?" I say, pulling my gun out from under the table. "Guess there's no point in hiding it then. Now what do you want?"

She pulls hers out from under the table in the same fashion. "Or so... that is how it is supposed to function." She continues.

My ears perk up, "huh?"

"However, it seems that you haven't quite perfected your craft yet." She says, pulling her sunglasses down for the first time since we had met. Revealing her left eye to be nothing more than a socket.

My eyes go wide with shock; impossible; no one could survive that. Not only the physical damage. But mental that should've left her mind shattered for centuries.

"So indeed Karin, what do I want?"

---

Here it is! Hope y'all enjoy! u/Equal-Researcher-329 u/replies_with_corgi u/SamuelVimesTrained u/McModknower u/busterverheeck

If I get enough support I'll continue on my page!!! ---> Fuji Jufi Writes

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Robysto7 t1_ivd258b wrote

Flames roared into the starless skies, swirling fire hypnotized my tired mind. I didn't even notice her sit down next to me. Only noticed her hand me another beer. Her pale hands were soft and warm. Her long blonde hair glowed against the flames. Soft brown eyes sat above dimpled smiling cheeks. Ruby red lips matched the floor length wool coat wrapped tightly around her. She was an exceptionally pretty empty vessel, not a trace of life behind the facade.

"This seat taken?" She asked warmly.

"Nope." I replied curtly, turning my gaze back to the fire. "Thanks for the beer. Way to fight stereotypes."

The blond woman rolled her eyes. "Couldn't help but notice you looked lonely out here, drinking alone is no fun. What are you running from Jake?" She asked seductively. Her hand grazed my inner thigh.

What wasn't I running from? Broken hearts shattered into broken dreams every place I went. At this rate I would never mind my eden. Life's tangled web ensnares tightly, all you can do is wait for the spider to find you.

"Just trying to make it all make sense." I groaned out.

Nothing made sense after Natalie stormed out and never came back. I can still hear her calling me a monster as she slammed the door in my face, life comes at you fast even when you know it's coming. Haven't been home since, too many memories, too much toxic life there.

"That's a tricky thing kid. Your type aren't afforded that much time. It really is a cruel cosmic joke. Sucks to not have a concrete expiration date. Running from it doesn't help, all that does is make you more lost than when you started out. Sometimes you have to stop and smell the roses." With a flick of her wrist the woman pulled a rose from her coat sleeve. She pinned it on my lapel.

"Every flower I sniff wilts and wastes away. Like I suck the life out of everything in my presence. I'm just a burden to everybody. Always have been."

Why am I telling her this? I don't even know this thing. Feels like my heart is overriding my brain. It is nice to not be alone for a change. She put her head on my shoulder, her hair tickling at my nose.

"Extraordinary powers have extraordinary consequences. Every action has an opposite and equal reaction. Just how things work. Cheer up kiddo, you've got a lot of life left in ya. Happiness is other people. Least that's what I've come to learn." She purred in my ear.

"What are you?"

She kissed my neck softly, sent a chill down my spine.

"You're not ready to know. Don't worry though, I'll be around keeping an eye on you. You've got a place, you just haven't found it yet. Keep your chin up Jakey, and go make some new friends."

A swirling wind caused the flames to spiral in the air, and with a flash she was gone. That's enough drinkin for tonight. Better pay my tab with the cute bartender and call an uber. Turns out I didn't have a tab, my 'lady friend' picked it up. I dialed Natalie's number, straight to voicemail. I didn't leave a message. Why can't I let it go? Why can't I feel any life left in my heart?

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