To the Ends of the Earth

October 25, 2024
Time to Impact: One Year

We lay side by side, on a vast emerald field, looking up at the night sky. A gentle wind glided over our thick winter clothes and scarves, running its hand over the fabric to flatten it. Blades of grass swayed with the ebb and flow of the breeze like waves across a viridian beach, occasionally breaking against towering islands of bark and wood. Hand in hand, we floated through a deep green ocean, surrounded by an archipelago of trees that sprinkled their leaves down on us like amber colored confetti, as if celebrating us.

But this was no time for celebration. This was a time for mourning.

Corvus C. Row

Hell yeah. Another day. I was still alive.

The light from the sun woke me up. I slowly got up and stretched lightly to jolt myself awake for what was about to be another day in my life. I turned my neck, cracking the joints as I exhaled in relief. I looked beside me and there was my wife, Brachy, still asleep. She was so hot, and everyone else I knew was so jealous that I married her and they didn't.

I sighed. 

Wait, no. No I didn't. I cawed. As loud as I could. I cawed as I jumped off the tree branch that I slept on all night and flapped my way to the ground, cawing and cawing the entire drop down until at the last possible second, right before I would have turned into a black bloody pulp, I spread my black wings and glided safely to the ground. I pecked the shit out of a worm that I saw crawling on the ground and immediately devoured it. 

"Caw, caw," I screamed at the ground, which meant "The early bird does get the worm" in your language. I said it to taunt the worms beneath the earth, to make them fear for their stupid little lives.

Fear for their stupid little lives because I, Corvus C. Row had awakened. I was a goddamn crow. And I was ready to conquer the world.

The Test

This was it. The AP World History test. Eight months of study (really three days of cramming) led up to this moment. Outside our school library on a chilly Thursday morning, I held a piece of paper in my hand listing major civilizations, technological improvements, and events by time period which I studied frantically, as if trying to condense all of human history into a tiny, easy-to-swallow pill of knowledge. An impossible task.

Behind Closed Doors

Ten years, I've lived in this house with my parents. I've been allowed to roam the entire house, explore every speck, tile, and corner of every room. I know the exact layout of every room, closet, and bathroom, down to the furniture.

Except for one. A wooden door, exactly the same as the other ones. Painted snow white, with a glossy finish. Cold and smooth to the touch, like a silk curtain. A brass, round doorknob with a small keyhole. Father says to never open it under any circumstances.

But you know... there's nothing as tempting as a locked door.

UPDATE: Story Delay and Tumblr

Oh god, I'm just being swamped studying for the APWH test that's coming in two weeks. I feel incredibly nervous since I'm extremely unprepared.

But why should you guys care? Well, since I've been devoting a lot of my time to stuffing names, events, and dates of historical events into my tiny, tiny cranium, I haven't had as much time as I wanted to work on the new story, which is a damn shame, since I have a really, really great story planned.

So to make sure that the story achieves its maximum greatness whilst still being able to prepare myself for the upcoming AP test without my brain exploding from overwork, I've decided unfortunately to delay the story release. I know, I know, I can hear your booing through the monitor. But don't worry, I'm shooting for releasing it this week, probably on Sunday (like the good ol' days in the past), but if I can't, then definitely next Wednesday at the latest, I promise.

...Or, I could upload a short story that I wrote a long, long time ago, if you guys would like to read that? Your choice, tell me in the comments!

Also, remember my Ask Box? And remember how I said that the Tumblr associated with it would be used exclusively for responses to questions? Well, I lied. It'll still be closely associated with this blog, but instead of just straight up responses, I'll also be posting mini stories too short to post here called "Bite Sized Pieces," which won't be released regularly, but rather, whenever I feel like it. Also, I'll be posting mini updates there too, dealing with personal comments on blog posts/Analytics, thoughts on stories, why the new story was late, or why it sucked, etc. Basically, less updates about the actual blog, and more updates on me personally but still somewhat related to writing, if that makes sense.


So en bref, new story's going to be delayed because I have to study, follow my Tumblr if you want to know more about my personal life (but still related to writing), that's it!

Look forward to the new story and shoutouts to the new Venezuelan and Australian readers! Bonjour aux personnes nouvelles de France qui a lu mon blog aussi!

Night of the Pomeranian

The military truck that we rode in bumped and shook as it drove across the rough terrain. Across from me, ten soldiers, bathed in the truck's red light, stared blankly at the ground, assault rifles held in unsteady hands. Beside me, nine more soldiers in the same state, as if comatose. To my left, the squadron commander smoked a cigar, as if today was just another day.

But it was not another day. This was the single most important battle for the human race, against the most dangerous enemy we've ever encountered. A dense atmosphere of nervousness hovered and slowly choked us all, reminding us that this could easily be our last day alive.

"Gentlemen," our commander started, removing the cigar from his mouth, and we all snapped out of our dazes and looked toward him, "You are humanity's last and greatest hope against this growing epidemic. You are twenty of the bravest men and women I've ever had the privilege of fighting beside with in my twenty years of service. If we survive, each and every one of your names will go down in history."

He stood up. "Remember your training. One bite is all it takes. No matter what they look like, no matter how much you recognize them, remember that their real personalities are gone. They're just hollow bodies, waiting to be killed. Do not hesitate. Do not react to them. Just shoot. And above all..."

The commander extinguished his cigar on the palm of his left hand, leaving a black, circular burn mark. He showed no pain.

"Do not... I repeat... Do not..."

He pulled the cigar away from his palm, revealing several other burn marks dotting and overlapping the skin on his palm of various hues of black.

"Pet the pomeranians."