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Hello there. I am a university student in Denmark studying IT Management, making a blog about stories to document my ‘journey’ in writing stories, reading stories, talking about them and hearing about them. I plan to put out various short pieces I’ve written over time, trying out different ways of posting them with regards to length, time of day and other yet-to-be-determined factors.

So thanks for checking out my blog and I hope you enjoy your stay.

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Well-wishes – Indepentional

“Hey Benny, can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“Go buy some more garbage bags, I’ll give you the cash for it.”

“Uhm, why can’t you do it?”

“Because of this.”

“HELLO THERE GRANDSON, I HOPE YOU ARE-”

“Fucking hell that’s loud. What is it?”

“One of those electronic well-wishes cards. Has my grandmother’s address as the return.”

“Electronic? Then it’s got a battery. Keep it shut, I’ll find it.”

“How the shit do you know about electronic cards?”

“Granddad makes them as a hobby. I’ve heard he’s even sold a few.”

“Huh. What’s their brand?”

“It’s a weird snake that bites itself in the ass. Don’t ask me why.”

“HELLO THERE GRAN-”

“Ow, fuck. I told you to keep it shut.”

“Yeah sorry, finger slipped.”

“Yeah, there it is. Oros Boros or whatever Granddad called it.”

“Huh.”

“Why huh?”

“There’s no battery.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Not joking.”

“What do you mean there’s no battery?”
“HELLO THERE GRANDSO-”

“Goddamn it. Get me a paperclip, I know we have some.”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear what you said over my damaged hearing. Here’s one.”

“There, it’s closed. What do you mean there’s no battery?”

“That it’s just a piece of card that plays a message that it shouldn’t. See, the batteries aren’t there.”

“Could it be solar-cell or some shit?”

“Listen to yourself. Solar-cell cardboard. Plus we’re inside with the windows closed in early March.”

“Then how do we get it to stop?”

“Rip it apart?”

“If we could do that without it playing the message.”

“Maybe if we let the message play out?”

“Maybe, but I’d prefer any alternative.”

“Stick it underneath a pillow, that’ll muffle it.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a decent idea.”

hello there grandson, i hope you are well.-“

“Good call Benny, that’s not too bad.”

-me and granddad are also doing well. how are you doing with school? we sent a letter to that soccer player your mother named you after. we have not heard back yet but we are very excited. granddad also sends his well-wishes. call us. love grandma.”

“Has it stopped?”

“Let me try and open it again. Nope, nothing. Looks like that’s it. Looks like I gotta call my grandparents. I might ask them why the card was lacking a battery.”

“Might.”

“Yeah. Would’ve been easier if the card HAD been from the closet.”

Letterbox – Indepentional

Thank you to CerinLevel3 from reddit for this writing prompt – https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/64thcm/wp_a_love_letter_is_slipped_under_your_door_at/


“Hey Benny, I told you to stop moving my mail around.”

“Screw you, I didn’t move anything.”

“Then why did I find a weird love-letter by the closet instead of the door?”

“Maybe there’s a stalker living in your closet, hehe.”

“That’s not very funny, Benny.”

“It is for people without a stick up their ass.”

“I’ll let that go. If you need me, I’ll be down at the office. There’s no return address or anything on this letter, and it can’t be for me.”

“Maybe it’s for me then, give it here.”

“I didn’t know you played soccer, Benny.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

“The letter mentions my name and says the person was really impressed by my ‘Football’ skills.”

“Ah, apologies ‘David Beckham’.”

“Benny…”

“Yeah yeah, sorry for real this time. Smell ya later.”

– – –

“You’re lucky I was held up by a computer problem or I’d have closed down for the day by now.”

“Sorry for taking your free-time then, Mrs Daunton. It’s just a simple question.”

“Just let me save this and I’ll be right over, David. Damn machine is so slow today.”

“I got a letter in today that can’t be for me, but it’s got no return address or stamp.”

“It has your name on the front.”

“It also mentions my amazing ‘Football’ skills at some soccer match in a german-sounding town.”

“Ooooh. Well, let me check the ledger. Maybe some info got lost. Huh.”

“Huh?”

“We did not receive any letters for you since the one from your mother 2 weeks ago.”

“Error in your filing system.”

“I can’t believe that, Edgar was on duty until I arrived an hour ago. He’s meticulous to a fault. We did not receive nor deliver a letter to you.”

“How did it get into my room then?”

“Any open windows?”

“It’s mid-February, so no.”

“Well Mr Beckham, I can’t explain it so you’ll just have to figure it out on your own. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.”

“Can’t you take it and throw it out or something?”

“If I did every minute task people asked of me, I’d still be cleaning my parent’s house. Good day, Mr Beckham.”

“Hey David, what did you find out about that letter?”

“Benny? Nothing, Mrs Daunton said they didn’t receive anything for me.”

“I wonder what she’d tell me then.”

“That you need to do your homework.”

“Ha ha, Beckham. I got a letter too.”

“What? Let me see that.”

“See, same font on the addressee, same lack of return address.”

“Found by the closet?”

“By the closet.”

“Well, that’s weird.”

“I say we check it out. Someone’s playing a trick on us.”

“Good plan. Wait.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me your bat is in the closet.”

“I haven’t put it back in after practice.”

“Good. We might need it.”

“Well, I’ve got it now. You got the letters?”

“Roger dodger.”

“No-one says that.”

“I do. Ready with the bat?”

“Yeah yeah, just open the fucking closet.”

“Right right. Anyone hiding in the back!?”

“Hold on, haven’t gotten to the back yet. I forgot how big your closet is.”

“What do you mean, how big? It’s just a closet.”

“Well, get in here, see for yourself.”

“Right, make room.”

“No need, there’s plenty. Where’s that blue light coming from?”

“Did you forget a blue rave-stick in here or something?”

“Come over here, there’s like a door.”

“You must have gotten turned around, there’s no door inside my closet. But then again, it’s not normally this big.”

“Hey, the door’s got a handle. It’s not locked either.”

“Well, keep the bat handy, Benny, let’s see who’s playing a prank on us.”

“Uhm David, you might want to see this.”

“Oh. That is not what I expected.”

“Oh, you didn’t expect a massive letter-factory inside your closet? What a surprise.”

“Cool it, you didn’t either. Hold up, are those people?”

“Oh shit, one of them is looking at us.”

“Hey, you two! What’re you doing on the factory floor?”

“Nothing sir, we just found a door in our closet!”

“Don’t tell him that Benny, he’ll think we’re insane!”

“Don’t shout at me, what the fuck else am I supposed to say?”

“Hold up, hold up, you found a door in your closet?”

“I know it sounds weird, but yeah. Oh, and two letters addressed to our names with no return address.”

“Lemme see. David Beckham?”

“No relation. And I haven’t even touched a soccer ball for months.”

“It’s called a football. But okay, I see what happened. Someone cocked up, forgot the Earth address.”

“Earth address?”

“And on top of that, the clunk forgot to close the Door after him. Well, if you two just go back through the Door, I’ll make sure to close it and get these to their proper owners.”

“Uhm, thank you mister?”

“Armstrong. No relation. Now off with you two, I’ve got work to do.”

“…”

“Uh, David?”

“Yes Benny?”

“Can we even tell anyone what we just saw?”

“People would say we had smoked something. Let’s just leave it. And get out of my closet, it’s really cramped now.”

Dredgery – A Brief Liaison

A Brief Liaison – Indepentional

A Brief Liaison is a story I’ve been wanting to write for a while. It is a quite simple story with simple characters based pretty much entirely around the gimmick of a single page. I did not want to get into the ACTUALLY romantic scene so I had to extend some scenes further than they really should have, all to fit it into 1 page’s worth of space.

Dredgery – The Boogeytax

The Boogeytax – Indepentional

The Boogeytax is one of my favourites among my own work. While I find commentary on society or the human condition interesting in stories, it is not something I intend to make a big deal out of in my own writing. Boogeytax is probably the closest I have gotten to that, as William is very much more frightened of very modern things like ‘bills’ or ‘jobs’ as opposed to physically dangerous things like wild animals or the like. Wolves also generally don’t arrive via mailbox.

The idea of ‘the boogeyman’, a creature of nightly terrors mostly considered for children, to be a form-shifting creature is a mixed inspiration; If you have read or watched Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban by J.K.Rowling, the boogeyman from Boogeytax is very similar to the ‘Boggart’ they examine in their Dark Arts-classes. It is a creature that changes shape to fit the fears of whomever can see it.The other part, which Boogeytax does not really get into, are the ‘Boogeymen’ from a role-playing campaign I was in charge of. The boogeymen there were black-furred creatures with round white eyes, their race having no common form among them. When the titular boogeyman of Boogeytax is without a victim, that’s how I imagined it; a black-furred amorphous creature with large, round all-white eyes, staring out of closets or ajar doorways at unsuspecting victims.

A Brief Liaison – Indepentional

The bus ride was becoming agonisingly long. The bright lights of the city at night flashed by the windows largely unnoticed by the man and woman in the very rear of the vehicle. They had brought a car to the party, but they’d had enough to drink that a friend stopped them from using the car. At least he’d paid for the bus fare. So they sat in the back together, kissing ravenously, ignoring the uncomfortable cushioning and flickering lighting.

“Parakeet Street!” The driver yelled from the front. They were just aware enough to hear, so they stumbled out of the bus onto the pavement just as the doors hissed shut behind them. Still, they waved at the departing bus like they were seeing off a good friend, then embraced again. “It’s just this way, come on.” She said, pointing down one of the many side-streets branching off from Parakeet Street. As they began the trek towards their final destination they kept close against the evening chill. Kissing while walking was awkward but they managed. Their eyes were only for each other and the pavement immediately in front of them, so before they knew it they had arrived at the apartment block, the large concrete box broken up in a few places by people still at home briefly after midnight. “Gimme a second,” she said, wriggling out between his arms, “I need to open the door.”

A key was produced and the door was opened. Motioning for silence, she led her partner up through the dark stairwell, both of them giggling all the while. The light was supposed to turn on when the door opened, but they could see well enough, so whatever. Up and up they went until they’d reached the 4th floor. They both made a point examining the name-plate on the door, even though they both knew what it’d say without needing to even glance at it. She reached into her pocket for the key.

“Eh,” She said, her hand coming up empty, “I must’ve lost it.” After a brief moment they both laughed, trying to contain the noise with their hands. “Oh well, it’s in the stairwell. We used it when we entered.” So they went back down, using phones as flash-lights until the key glared back at them from where it had been dropped on a step. Key found and firmly in hand, it did not take long to unlock the door into the apartment. Stumbling inside, they embraced again, fumbling on the plaster walls for the light-switch. Coats were clumsily removed and unceremoniously dumped on the floor. She broke away briefly, “So what should we do now?” She asked giggling. Not waiting for an answer, she opened the bedroom door and went inside, her partner following eagerly. But just as his arms reached around her again, she put a finger on his lips, motioning to speak. “Ssh now, the page is almost out.”

Dredgery – The Quelling War

Dota – The Quelling War

For those unfamiliar with Dota, it is an online multiplayer game about, among other things, a war between 2 ancient creatures. Each team consists of 5 people playing a character with a selection of abilities. Simply put, each team attempts to breach the enemy base and destroy the Ancient at its core. Now, this game has quite a thriving competitive scene. The biggest of the Dota tournaments, the International, had a prize pool of 20 million dollars in 2016. Part of how the company funds this prize pool is through sales of a compendium you can buy in Dota, with a series of rewards and challenges for the community. The very first of the Community Challenges in 2016 was cutting down trees in the game map. Quite a lot of trees. 20 billion trees, in fact. The Dota community is by no means small, but compared to the task at hand, it might not be sufficient.

Enter the YouTube Dota content creator and commentator SirActionSlacks – CALL OF THE C.U.T. CORPS

The video is what gave me the idea for the story that simply showcases part of a day in this ‘war’. As the actual Community Challenge never really mentioned WHY we are cutting down all these trees, the story also gives little reason as to why this is necessary.

Dredgery – Security Drone

Security Drone – Indepentional

One thing I love about alternative worlds is imagining the world and events around the story that it itself doesn’t cover or only touches in parts.

Security Drone is my little piece of fanfiction for the Massively Multiplayer Online RolePlaying Game “The Secret World”. In TSW you play immortal, and as such eminently disposable, agents of various secret organisations trying to protect their interests, and also Earth, against supernatural threats. You are very much a Warrior Drone in the grand Beehive that is Earth in TSW, with your powers being represented by bees and sounds of buzzing. Nuggets of lore are spread throughout the game zones, shown as chunks of honeycomb, followed by the line “Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.”. Nowhere in the actual text of the story is “The Secret World” or their organisations mentioned, so initially I wanted to see how many caught on to its relation to the game.

So Security Drone was inspired by a mix of this bee-symbology and the dirty bombing of Tokyo in the story. Each of the notable persons in the queue represent one of the 3 major playable organisations in the game; The asian man represents the Dragons, a faction that plays off the other two to use the resulting chaos for their own plans. The elderly man with the storm-beard is with the Templars, that are pretty much what they sound like. The woman you spend most of the story with is aligned with the Illuminati based out of New York. Again, pretty much what it says on the tin.

One issue I had with this story was that it had been some 6+ years since last I had travelled with an airplane, so my memories of airport security checks were somewhat hazy. Luckily I went on a trip by plane to Italy with the family around the time I was writing it, which helped immensely. The plane’s destination is a nod to the lore of the game, where Tokyo is bombed a short time before the game opens, an event that opens the gates even further to all kinds of supernatural creatures, some of which are unfamiliar even to a world that has vampires, werewolves and poltergeists on the regular.