NystromWrites

NystromWrites t1_j6bmj2t wrote

This subreddit! :)

It was about 2.5 years ago I wrote off and on, only for myself, and it was always directionless. The quality was generally pretty decent since I spent hours fussing over the structure of every sentence and which specific synonym to use, but word count per month was probably like 100-300. Yikes.

This subreddit pushed me to learn the new, valuable skill of writing by the seat of your pants. While writing in this style I've learned how to quickly craft a unique voice for the characters, how to create an interesting setting, and more. I don't always nail it 100% of course, sometimes I look back on what I hit "save" on the night previous and I'm like...bruh. But sometimes people enjoy it and I'm writing way more, and enjoying it more too!

In short, this sub is so friggin cool.

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NystromWrites t1_j5hku5s wrote

ALIBI'S AFTERTHOUGHT

The Alibi served many functions, and its rules were simple.

Firstly, if you planned to use the Alibi for its implied name, you had to shoot Alissa a text first. Alissa kept a ripped copy of everyone's credit cards in a secure drawer behind her desk. She would use your card to buy a beer, and keep the receipt. She would keep the beer for herself or her staff, of course, but for the cost of one pint on tap, you had yourself a get-out-of-jail-free card. A good deal, by anyone's standards.

The second function was jobs. Although tensions were high in Caldew, not every gang had every skill they needed at all times. Some of the criminals were more freelance. For the right price, you could get a top-tier hacker, or a surgeon to patch up one of your thugs who couldn't be seen at the hospital. You could hire muscle, of course, but that was easy. There were more rare and in-demand skills than that.

The third function was recruitment. Alissa was not personally involved, but when young men and women came of age and had no better prospects, there was a room in the back where a gang leader could grab their latest bruiser, sneaker, or spy.

Of course the lawmakers knew almost all of this, but Alissa hadn't made it to her position by being careless or thick-skulled. She had blackmail and bribes for every possible problem prepared at all times.

There was only one problem Alissa hadn't thought would come knocking on her door: freakin' superheroes.

Superheroes weren't a thing. No one dressed up in spandex to enact vigilante violence. Superpowers weren't a thing, either! Yet here they were, a group of probably fifteen guys, barging into Alissa's Alibi and wrecking the place.

For a split second, the security seemed unsure what to do. When they jumped up and started putting the leotard-wearing losers on their rears, most of the regulars had already begun their counterattack.

Alissa herself got involved, not needing or even wanting to use anything other than her fists. Their outright audacity had her seeing red.

It took less than fifteen minutes before the fight ended, just as abruptly as it had begun. All of the wanna-be watchmen, on an unseen signal, turned around and ran. All except for the one Alissa held in a suffocating rear naked chokehold while her favorite bartender pelted him with the best featherweight punches she could.

Disturbing the Alibi was, under normal circumstances, grounds for a very immediate vacation from the land of the living. However, for the first time in the six years since Ali had founded the bar, she brought someone into the back room that had been kept empty, save for a few knives, lengths of steel rope, and hammers. Its purpose was self-evident.

It took about twenty more minutes to get her answers, with some enthusiastic help. Ali then picked up her phone to start a group call with the two biggest gang leaders in Caldew. She stepped out into the cool, slightly drizzly night to collect her thoughts while the call connected.

"What's good?" One of the voices responded.

"Ali. Must be important for you to call both of us at once."

"I need both of you to take this seriously. I had a breakin at the Alibi."

"That is goddamn serious. No way it was any of my boys, right?" The first man responded.

"No, neither of your crews were involved. This was...well, it was a group of fifteen guys. Very sturdy guys. We gave them a thrashing, broke tables over them, they did not shed a drop of blood, and not one of them got knocked out either."

"Okay. Could be simple luck." The second voice responded, already bored of the call.

"No. I kept one of 'em. Got him to tell me a very interesting story. Someone out there is inventing superheroes. They've apparently synthesized a drug that can cause advantageous mutations."

The second voice scoffed. "If there was a drug lab working on human enhancement, I'd have bought it already."

"They're motivated against crime. This round they were all tough. Apparently with each fight they gather more data, and the men can receive another dose. Next round is more powerful, and when they get back from the second fight, they can get a third dose, which is even more powerful, and so on."

"So, what, superman? Green lantern? What kind of mutations are they supposed to get?" The first one asked.

"I don't know, because my...um. Newfound friend, he didn't know either."

"And who were the volunteers?"

"Memory wipe. Not sure, but if you want to lend me a contact in the police to run their faces against missing or wanted posters, I'll share everything I learn."

"Superheroes. Pff. Guess it was only a matter of time before reality became stranger than fiction." The second voice replied.

"Uh, yeah, speaking of round two..." The first gang leader said, as his voice faded away from the phone. "Someone made of fire is walking right into my Grave!"


I'll continue on my sub :) r/nystorm_writes

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NystromWrites t1_j2v6kba wrote

Manmade Horrors Beyond our Comprehension

TW: tragedy, baby loss

Aiden stared at the clouds, thinking carefully about what it might mean.

Simulation theory. Aliens. A bizarre prank perpetrated by some billionaire tech bro.

“10M Human Lifeforms Achieved! Please upgrade your membership to continue growing your civilization.” Read the script emblazoned on the midday sky.

Aiden was not a foremost scholar in physics or philosophy or any combination thereof that might hold an answer to what he saw. In fact, he was a man of meager means, who worked himself to the bone for every scrap he got. He began this life with an ‘upbringing’ in a dank foster home, experiencing neglect in every sense of the word, and the only thing he could muster as a silver lining was his very ardent work ethic. He knew that as long as he worked hard, he could make sure he never found himself in that kind of situation again– surrounded by indifferent people, with no agency to improve his life. Through hard work, he could keep himself afloat financially, and by working hard to improve his understanding of what ‘friendship’ meant, he also eventually learned what it meant to be a ‘boyfriend’, then ‘husband’, and now, any day now, ‘father’ was his latest lesson.

Or…was it?

Aiden’s stomach began to twist into knots. What would it mean for his baby? For his pregnant wife?

Medicine had come a long way, so old people weren’t dying at the rate they used to.

Aiden flinched. He was wishing old people would die? Even if it was to make room for his child, what kind of warped and rusted-out kind of conscience did he have, if that was his first train of thought?

Clenching his hand until he felt his fingernails draw blood, Aiden decided to stow the topic away until more information came out. Maybe it was just a prank. Maybe he was freaking out over nothing.

In two days time, it was confirmed that he was not, in fact, freaking out over nothing.

The news anchors tried to use the gentlest phrasing possible, but there really wasn’t a way to phrase mass miscarriages in a polite way. People began protesting, demanding the government find a way to meet the ‘upgraded membership’ condition. Older people hid away from the general public, afraid of what they may be asked, afraid of what they would be accused of, afraid of what might happen to them.

Society as Aimen and Sadia knew it did not last long– and with Sadia expecting any day now, Aimen felt the hardening around his heart beginning. Not the kind that comes from eating deep-fried Oreos, either.

“Don’t even think about it.” Sadia said, cutting through Aimen’s darkened countenance. He had been staring out of the hospital window as she waited for an ultrasound, trying to ensure that the child hadn’t already been lost.

“Don’t think about what?” Aimen asked, trying to put on a brave face.

“I know how desperately you’ve wanted a family, baby. Don’t. We’ll figure something out. The entire world is trying to figure this out. We’ll come up with something.”

Aimen sighed, but not the kind of sigh that was paired with relief. Instead, it felt as though the weight in his chest grew heavier. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’s…I’m just not in a good head space. Sorry. This is probably much harder for you than it is for me.”

“Not a competition.” Sadia said. Her voice was warm, but firm, almost like she was correcting a very endearing and frustrating puppy. “It sucks for everyone. We just need to keep it together and not do anything irrational while we wait.”

“I’ve never been good at waiting. I’m just going to clear my head real quick, can I get you something?”

“Apple juice, please.” Sadia said with a very faint smile. It had been her only craving throughout the entire pregnancy.

Aimen managed a half smile back, and he stepped outside.

He hadn’t made it more than ten feet before he heard the noise. The sound of a plastic pan hitting the ground, shouting, then the first scream.

Just down the hall, there was a man with all the fury in the world behind his eyes. Aimen had a very solid guess as to why.

The man was shouting, throwing things, and as Aimen approached, he saw the reflected sunlight off of some kind of metal in the man’s left hand.

Aimen rushed in, unthinking. He had never been the type to wait.

The next minute was compressed into just two moments– when Aimen tried to grapple the man from behind, and when he felt the sharp sting across his throat.

Nurses and Doctors came quickly, Security pinned the man down. Aimen didn’t feel the pain anymore, though he was vaguely worried. He realized that he was confused…and then he felt cold. Medicine hadn’t come that far after all, he guessed.

—---------------------------------

Aiden pushed open the Simulation Casket. His memories– his real memories returned to him. The year was 2024. He wasn’t Aimen. He was a University student. He had signed up for a study. It was supposed to be about video game design.

Immediately, he threw up on the floor. The clash of what he had lived– a life that was almost as real as his own, come and passed, in what was probably just a few hours. The love he had felt for his wife. What was her name? He–

His dizzy vision slowly cleared. “What kind of Matrix bullshit was that?”

No one answered him. He wasn’t important enough to answer, apparently.

“Michael, clean up the mess. Aiden, there’s a shower just beyond that door. Please fill out the survey when you’re done.”

As reality sunk back in for Aiden, and he wrote a very precise review in the survey, he left Simulacrum Laboratories on shaking legs, and walked back to his dorm.

His neighbor was an electrician. Aiden went and spoke with him for a moment, asking to borrow a sledge hammer. Then he went to his dorm room, opened the mini-fridge, and drank a bottle of apple juice, before returning to the street, marching right back to Simulacrum Laboratories, sledge hammer in tow.

Aimen was not the type to wait.

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