Author Archive: dif-dave

Storage

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A loud but distant THOOM jars me awake. My eyes are open, but there’s nothing but inky black in my vision. I can’t see my hands or anything else, so I look around, hoping for some light slicing through.

There.

A pinpoint of green light.

It had to be an LED because of how small and concentrated it was, not illuminating anything else around it. I stood, feeling the sleeping bag under me.

Not knowing where I was or what was around me, a slowly shuffled my feet and moved toward the light, hoping not to bump into anything that might cause me harm. Thankfully, the trip was successful and quick, which meant I had to be in a smallish room. I reached my hand out toward the LED, grasping for the wall or some kind of light panel that would ease the growing anxiety.

As my hand moved across it, I heard BEEP and a soft whirring sound. It had to be a servo, maybe something connected to—

FLICK FLICK FLICK

One by one panels about my head came on until the room was entirely illuminated. My eyes burned with the drastic change, but I was thankful. I rubbed them, and squinted as they finished adjusting.

Looking around, it was clear that I was in a storage unit. Flat gray walls all around me and a blast door. No control panel in sight, unfortunately. I was stuck here, but why?

I noticed the black sleeping bag on the floor from where I came. Wait. That wasn’t a sleeping bag. It was a… body bag? Was I dead and don’t remember dying? Why else would I have been in one? I moved back over to it and inspected it closer. Yeah, no markings or any indication of who might have collected me. I leaned over and picked it up, looking inside. A small powder blue envelope, maybe only a couple of inches long and half as wide, slid around the bottom and I picked it up and set down the bag, eyeing the little card curiously.

There was no text on the envelope but I could feel something g embossed on it. Rotating it just right, I made out a symbol that looked like a circle with a line crossed through it diagonally. There were three dots underneath this symbol. I didn’t recognize it. Or at least I didn’t remember recognizing it.

I flipped it over and carefully slid my thumb across the sealed paper, making sure I didn’t accidentally give myself a paper cut. That’s all I needed—to bleed out alone. At least I’d officially be dead then, right? I shook my head at my own dumb, dark humor.

Inside the envelop was a card, the same powered blue color on one side, the other blank. No embossing, no text, absolutely no idea what it could be.

I hadn’t noticed it running before, but because it was so quiet in here, I immediately noticed the air unit stop running. I looked up, waiting for something to happen, but then started looking for security cameras or something that indicated I was being monitored. Nothing stood out.

I slipped the card in my pocket and realized I hadn’t really given myself a once-over. Looking down, I saw that I was wearing very simple, beige pants, a matching long sleeve shirt, no socks, and nondescript loafers. Good thing I wasn’t going anywhere for a while, right.

I pulled my sleeves up to make myself comfortable. I was already feeling the temperature rise a couple of degrees in just the short time the fan had stopped. That’s when I saw something on my left arm.

It seems whoever left me here had taken the liberty of slicing my arm open and stitching me back up. They’d done a good job and had to have medicated me because it didn’t hurt, even if I poked at it. When I did, though, I felt something hard under my skin.

Ah. So it’s like that. They implanted me with some kind of tracking device or a monitor. Or…

I pulled the blue card from my pocket and waved it over the hard spot. I expected a beep or some kind of confirmation that it had activated something in the room, but no, nothing. I tapped it and still nothing. Well shit. I slipped the card back in my pocket and resumed taking in the room.

They hadn’t left me with anything other than the bag I assume I arrived in, the envelope, the card, and the stitch job. No bed, no chair, no food or anything. I was literally in a blank box. But they had to have assumed I was going to wake up. The bag was already unzipped and I had the card in there with me. Right?

To at least make myself feel like I was doing something I zipped up the bag, squeezed the air out of it and folded it as nicely and as thick as possible to make an improvised chair, then sat on it.

I guess I just waited now?

I pulled the card from my pocket so I had something to fidget with while I racked my brain.

The biggest question to answer was “Who am I?” If I can’t figure that out, there’s no way I’ll be able to create any dots to connect and answer the big question: “Why am I here?”

Sure, knowing where “here” was is an important piece of the puzzle, but it was less important to me right now because I had no idea why I would have (maybe) died, been brought back to life, and then dumped at this place… for whatever reason.

I tapped the card on my arm again, hoping for something, then I had a thought: Was there another place that they might have implanted me? I’d seen enough movies and read enough books to know it could be a possibility, so why not look?

I started stripping off my clothes. I slid my shoes off and I checked the bottoms of my feet. Damn. They must have bathed me before stuffing me in the bag because my tootsies were as clean enough to eat off of, if you were into that sort of thing. No stitches or cuts, though.

I pulled my pants down, letting everything hang out and only had a momentary worry about anyone seeing me in the buff. They’d probably already seen all I had to offer, so who cared? My legs seemed clear. I checked my intimate areas because, again, it could be a possibility. Nothing. My shirt was last, but nothing made itself known. Damn it.

I pulled everything back on. Maybe I just needed to sit and wait for someone to come and get me. I was being too impatient. It wasn’t like I had plans that I’d be late to, so it wasn’t time to just sit and think. Maybe something would come to me… or someone would.

I settled back into my little corner and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Time didn’t exist here. Not one bit and I could feel every single second go by.

FLICK FLICK FLICK

The lights went off. Must be motion activated or something. With a grunt I stood up and made my way to my little green LED friend and turned them back on.

When I turned around there was something in the middle of the floor. A plain gray box.

I made my way to it, leaned down, and picked it up. No markings, just a very simple box two-part box that was just bigger than my open palm, which meant I had to nestle it in my arm to pull it apart. When I did, there was a small circular yellow tag nested inside black foam. I pulled the tag out and examined it. I turned it in the light and saw the same O shape with three dots under it engraved. Palming the tag, I pulled the black foam out and a compact laser blade fell out and onto the floor.

What the hell?

I set the box back in the floor as I picked up the blade. I sure didn’t expect something like this. And it definitely added another dot that I was going to need to connect. I pocketed the blade and pulled out the card, tapping it against the yellow tag.

This time there was a beep, but it didn’t come from the tag or somewhere on my body, but from across the room by the green LED. I made my way over and heard what sounded like a printer whir.

Sticking out of the wall under the light was a slip of beige paper. It stopped and I pulled it.

It read: NOT YET

Involuntarily, I chuckled. What? Not yet for what? For the first time since I woke up I heard my own voice.

“What are we doing here, people? Is this some kind of game? Let’s get going then! Apparently I don’t have anything to lose if I was already dead! Come on!”

I looked up as I said this, expecting someone’s voice to boom from hidden speakers.

Nothing happened.

“OK. Fine.” I tossed my hands in the air and chuckled. “OK. Not yet then.”

I returned to my makeshift seat and plopped down a little too hard. I guess I’d have to wait for whatever was next.

More time went by. I had fidgeted with the blade but wanted to make sure I didn’t burn up the power cell. I’d probably need it. Then the lights went out again. I wanted to turn them back on, but I also wanted to know if doing nothing prompted them—whoever “them” was—to force me.

After what may have been several minutes the green light blinked on and off across the way. It was a steady on off on off. No secret code that so could tell. I waited more. It continued with the same unchanging pattern then I heard the printer whirring. Just what I thought. Nice.

I stood up and walked over. I snatched the paper and turned the lights back on. There was nothing on the paper. I looked around and nothing new had magically appeared. Hm. I tapped the tag again with my card and nothing. This was getting so old so fast.

“Ha ha. Funny.” I looked up at the lights again, waiting.

[to be continued]

I keep writing this.

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The hardest part of making a new website that serves so many purposes — in my case, doing some testing for work and becoming a safe space for me to write — is that you always feel the need to have a “Welcome” post for people who have never visited before.

I don’t know why that is, because if you found this you were probably looking for it or it was referred to you specifically for a reason. We don’t really stumble upon websites by accident anymore, do we? Also… remember StumbleUpon? Peak internet stuff right there…

Anyway.

Welcome to my hole on the internet. Or one of many. This one is, publicly, dedicated to my attempts at writing more often. It’s plain for a reason and I don’t plan on doing much more than writing here. I might link to my socials, but… ugh… social media kinda sucks. Makes me angry more than encouraged to do anything productive.

So there.

I finally wrote the “Welcome” post.

Enjoy my writing journey.

The Merchant

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A piece of flash fiction.

Between the urban musk of ozone, piss, and aging grime, and the constant bustle in the streets, Kinner Valpash knew it was going to be a busy market day. Or at least he hoped. That wasn’t unusual for the last weekend of the month, but lately, people had been more demanding, bordering on mean.

Then again, when someone bought an Old Earth relic just to find out it wasn’t exactly real… well… that could play a part in it. Kinner chuckled to himself as he unpacked his cart of wares and placed them on the shelves within his booth.

He pulled out a stack of digital video discs and laid a few of them face up.

Top Gun
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
The Last Action Hero
Avatar
Parappa the Rappa

Old Earth loved its entertainment — that much was obvious. Things must’ve been bad if so many people escaped into fantasy instead of facing whatever was actually going on. To the average Reacher, though, these discs were “historical documents.” Of course, no one could actually view them. The tech was too crude, too old, and no one cared enough to learn how it worked.

He reached under the cart, pulled out a box, and opened it. Translucent orange cylinders with white caps filled it. Inside each bottle were a handful of various tablets. Kinner had found these while cleaning out a storage facility last year and it had made him laugh. People used to eat these to stabilize their mood or keep their bodies from making a quick exit to the bathroom. No need for that anymore in The Reach. The government had universal healthcare and even went a step further, providing a medchip to each person when they were born. With that, they could monitor your health, prescribe medication, and let you know if you needed to come in for a checkup. Kinner wasn’t a fan of the constant monitoring, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. You remove it, you die.

He placed the pills onto a shelf marked “Ancient Mood Stabilizers — Genupharm XL (probably)” and continued rummaging through whatever he had left.

Once everything was set, he turned his Open sign on. It crackled with electricity before settling into a low, almost unnoticeable hum. The market square was officially open for the day.

Even with heavy foot traffic, not too many folks seemed interested in what he had to offer. Some stopped to pick up a sneaker, checked the price, then set it back down and moved on. A couple of people showed interest in the lighters, but when they found out they needed to supply their own butane, they passed.

A young human boy approached and immediately picked up the handheld video game system, its translucent purple shell showing off the circuitry inside.

“That’s a game. Want to try it out?” Kinner looked up at the boy’s guardian as they caught up. Their long nose swayed gently. D’jurra were among the friendliest humanoids in the Reaches, and this one gave the boy a pat on the head with their long fingers.

“Just for a minute, Lief. We need to get back to your parents,” they said. Their voice was feminine and faintly muffled.

Kinner turned the game on and passed it to the boy. Then he turned to the D’jurra and asked, “Looking for anything in particular, or just passing time?”

They lifted a bag of groceries. “Just picking up a few things for Lief’s dinner. It’s his birthday, and he requested fried calamari and peanut butter sandwiches.”

Kinner raised his eyebrows. “That’s a rare combo. Expensive palette,” he said, glancing at the boy who was now focused on stomping turtles and mushrooms.

“How old are you today, Liam?”

The boy didn’t answer — just sighed in frustration as his character died on-screen.

“He’s nine,” Oro said. “He doesn’t usually eat like this. It’s a birthday exception. Although—” She leaned in slightly, shielding her mouth from the boy. “His parents can afford it.”

Kinner nodded. “Gotcha. Well, I know you’re short on time. Want me to wrap the game system, or did you have your eye on something else?”

Oro smiled politely. “I don’t have authorization to buy that for him using my employer’s funds, but I’d be happy to purchase that one with my own.” They pointed to a timepiece with a bright orange wristband and a scuffed face.

“It requires a charger, which I don’t have, unfortunately.”

“That’s fine,” Oro said. “I like the color. I’d love to wear it.” They extended her palm to reveal their embedded payment chip.

Kinner tapped his own palm and waved it over theirs. His eyes glowed green for an instant, theirs red, as the transfer went through.

“Give me just a minute and I’ll get this wrapped up for you.”

He turned and froze. A little human girl was standing behind his booth. He may have jumped slightly.

“Oh. Hello,” he said, bending down, peering around a stack of boxes to get closer to her level.

“Looking for something? Where’s your guardian, little one?”

The girl said nothing. She lifted a long object wrapped in a scarf.

“Oh, I can’t buy anything from children. Where is your guardian? If they’re around, I’d be happy to take a look.”

“Yours,” she said, holding it toward him. Her eyes didn’t blink.

He chuckled. “No, I can’t take that, dear. I need to know where it came from.”

“Yours,” she said again.

Kinner glanced back toward Liam and his guardian. They both smiled in his direction. He raised one finger — just a moment — and turned back.

The girl was gone. She wasn’t walking away from him and he didn’t see her slipping into the crowd. She was just gone.

But the object was still there, resting on the table exactly where she had been. The scarf still wrapped tightly around it. The paracord tied in a clean loop like a gift.

He blinked, then stepped closer, scanning the crowd instinctively.
No sign of her. No trace.

“Sir? We need to get going. Is there an issue with the timepiece?”

He grabbed the watch, wrapped it in brown paper, and tied it with twine. “No trouble at all. Someone dropped off an item I wasn’t expecting. Here you go.”

He handed the package over and gave Liam a quick pat on the head. “Happy birthday, kid.”

The guardian smiled and took Liam by the hand. “Thank you, Mister,” the little boy called as they made their way into the crowded sidewalk traffic.

Kinner turned back to the wrapped object. It wasn’t the first time someone had left something behind. But never a kid. And never like this. This didn’t feel right.

The scarf smelled faintly of woodsmoke. Or was that just his nerves?

He grabbed his scissors and snipped the paracord, slowly unwrapping it.

It was an arm. A chrome arm with no hand. It looked like it could be worn. But what could it do?