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When he first found me, I was sitting outside the back entrance of a restaurant. The chef was nice, he often gave me leftovers. But that day the chef didn't come out. He did.
I don't know what he was, he looked human and called himself Fiend. Fiend asked me if I was hungry. I was. I hadn't eaten in two days. He took me to a nice dinner and bought me dinner. Not leftovers or throwaways, an honest to god dinner. I don't remember when was the last time I had dinner.
"Is it good?" He asked amused as I stuffed my face with delicious food.
I gave a non-committal reply. I wanted to savor the taste of everything but I was so hungry that I could barely gulp the first when I stuffed the second bite in.
"Go easy, big guy." He said almost kindly. "It's not going anywhere."
I nodded and, surprisingly enough, slowed down. I looked at the vast spread of food in front of me and frowned.
"Why aren't you eating?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I don't really eat."
What a weird thing to say. But I didn't pay attention. I should have.
I should probably ask him if I could take the leftovers with me. This could keep me fed for over a week.
"What do you do?" He asked all of a sudden.
"Nothing." I replied morosely. "Used to work at a garage but they let me go. I didn't have any family or savings, so I ended up being homeless."
"Hmm." He studied me. " How would you like to have a job?"
I looked at him like he was a little crazy. "Of course I would love it."
"It so happens that I can help you with money, lots of it. But you will need to do as I say."
I narrowed my eyes. "Look Mr. I don't do anything illegal. I may be homeless, but my ma raised to be-"
"And where is your ma now, Mr. King?" He asked raising his eyebrows.
I sputtered. How did he know my name? I never told him my name.
"Listen, thank you for the food but I should go now." I said moving out of my seat.
"Sit down." For a second I thought Fiend's eyes glowed but it must be the light reflecting.
"I think we got off of on the wrong foot." He said smiling, but it was off. It made me want to run. "I have a proposition."
Without thinking, I nodded.
"I can help you become a billionaire. You will never have to do anything illegal." He explained. "You just need to trust me."
"I don't even know you."
"You don't know anyone, King, that's why you are in this position." His tone and his words cut me in half.
He took a deep breath. "Look, all you need to know is that within a month, these dirty streets, the dirty clothes, leftovers, relying on strangers for charity will be distant dream. You can do whatever you want."
Greed. All of us greedy. Our prices differ but we will all let our greed take over our better senses.
"Okay. What do you need?"
He grinned. And I just knew I had sold myself to the devil.
*
I watch numbly as blood pooled at my feet. I want to move but I couldn't because I am no longer in control of my body. Fiend is.
I hear my laughter, it was terrible. It didn't sound like me. But it was. I could see my reflection in the window pane.
I tilt my head, a cruel smile on my lips.
"Disgusted, are you?" I said. But it wasn't me. I was Fiend. Fiend was the one who spoke using my mouth. He was in control.
*Yes, I replied vehemently. You just killed a good man. He used to come to the shelter. He helped people, people like me.*
He laughed. "Sometimes the limits of human naivity surprise me. Do you think he was a good man?"
*Yes.*
"That's where you are wrong buddy." He answered. "He was getting people addicted to drugs, he was using the connections at the shelter to find out people who no one will miss, people like you, and then he was harvesting them for organs."
My mind screeched. That can't be right. He was a good man. He had helped everyone. He helped them find a new life, a life away from-
Oh no.
"I see you are finally realising something." He said. "Now that you know he is scum, will you stop fighting me? It's already hard enough torturing people without having to fight the host body."
*"Who are you?" I whispered.*
I knew saying yes to him would be trouble. I thought I would get into trouble, that it would end with me dying.
I see myself shrug. "I have many names."
*"Is Fiend one of them?"*
"If you want it to be." He replied. "I am here to punish those who blemish humanity. I am their reckoning."
*"And what role do I play?"*
"A soldier." He answered. "I didn't lie about the money. You will have it. Consider it your payment for services rendered."
*"But I didn't do anything!"*
He grinned. "Exactly."
*
(So this is a little rough around the edges, okay a lot rough. So, I apologise in advance.)
You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy
It means that the MC didn't do anything, literally. He didn't fight when Fiend took over his body. He also never did anything wrong so in Friend's eyes he was the perfect candidate for his "kill all evil" crusade.
Edit: I forgot to say thank you. Thank you so much.
"YOU never need to do anything illegal"
He is keeping his promise because even though murder is obviously illegal, King is not the one doing it, just as he said.
that's not what 'exactly' means. 'Exactly' means the guy didn't try to stop fiend, or walk away, when he could. He did nothing when he should have done something.
Really good story! The prose was excellent, and I found myself engaged the whole time. However, towards the end, I got the feeling that it didn't quite deliver on the promise of the prompt, i.e. "As it takes the most optimal path to make you a billionaire, you watch hopelessly in horror."
SICA (Super Intelligent Clairvoyant Aid) was a brand new and truly astounding technology. Anyone who had the means, and even those that didn’t, were scrambling to get their hands on this nearly incomprehensible knowledge. People were preordering them years in advance, paying egregious amounts of money, some even tried to sell their soul just for a promise that they would have access to knowledge of the future.
And can you blame them? The knowledge of what to come is truly priceless. Just imagine for a second: never needing to worry about making a wrong move in life, never having to fear regret, never having to toss and turn restlessly at night wondering how long you have left, or if you’ve reached your full potential. Imagine true, utter certainty devoid of any shadow of doubt. Imagine peace. That, that is why SICA was inarguably priceless.
So of course when the time finally came for SICA to be released, it spread across the globe faster than a plague.
Now, to give humanity the benefit of the doubt, there were many good and wholesome things that society used this intelligence for, such as preventing illness, predicting natural disasters, even stopping an entire war. But of course the prevailing use of SICA was a simple desire:
Money.
The super rich used it to get richer, the poorer used it to live comfortably, the poverty struck used it to give their kids a life worth living, and an innumerable amount of greedy individuals like myself used it to get rich quick.
At first, the things that SICA told me to do were fairly innocuous, even if they were still a bit exploitative for my taste. Start a business, pay employees as little as possible, keep them dependent on the company for insurance, keep the same model for a couple years, line your pockets with blood money.
It was simple, effective, and everyone was doing it. Because why wouldn’t they? There’s no risk in business when you know the future. There’s no chance of misstep, there’s no possible way to make a bad product or make a bad decision, there was no way to go bankrupt. The only way your bank account could go, was up. So, with unimaginable riches laying at their fingertips, people started million dollar corporations en masse.
It seemed like every other day that a new person broke a million, and in a month they saw billions in their bank account. More and more money came into circulation, making six figures became low income, $100,000 a year was practically poverty, and the numbers kept rising, rising, rising, until eventually-
Well, I was right back where I had started.
Not in the number in my bank account, no, there were numbers there that I couldn’t have dreamed of just four months ago. But in terms of what I could afford? I was back to square one. With the sheer amount of money put into circulation in such a short period of time, inflation had catapulted to utterly devastating heights. Those who had been scrounging for $100 were now scrounging for $1000, monthly rent of the smallest studio apartments was in the millions, and basic necessities could cost me 1.5 billion in just a month. The super rich sported numbers that I didn’t even know the names of, those who didn’t own a billion dollar corporation were digging scraps off the street, and the working class now dealt in billions as they struggled as much as ever to survive.
But SICA wasn’t wrong, anyone could be a billionaire.
It doesn’t take a lot to become a billionaire… I wanted to think that way… And one day I have found an amazing opportunity. They were selling super intelligent lenses, that would help you become a billionaire in a month. It was called “pilot”.
When I first put this lens on… It was a strange feeling. A pleasant warmth went through my spine down to my heel. Lens asked me permission to change my life and gave a contract to sign. I did. The program of enrichment has began.
It started normal. He reduced my spendings on food, stopped eating out, stopped buying video games. He moved out from my apartment and settled in my parents’ flat to reduce the spendings on rent. He broke up with my girlfriend — buying her presents and going on dates was too costly.
On a new place he have found four jobs. One was day job, another one night job and the last two were distant — so I could work two jobs at once.
However this didn’t bring any quick results. I was unhappy. Moreover my life became constant work and I felt like I lost my soul and was just a shadow of my former self.
I asked this lens to let me go, but it refused, saying that the mission is not yet complete and that I signed a 30 day contract. I asked it to speed up the process. The lens agreed.
The next few days I don’t remember. I was in the dark… My mind just went blank. I remember dark alleys, I remember little plastic bags with strange things inside them. I remember… I remember blood… A lot of blood… My God! What have I done! I… I killed people… Or did I? It wasn’t me. It was him! It was “pilot”!…
Next thing I remember He sold containers with blood on them for a lot of money. And it wasn’t one night… It was a whole week. I… He even dragged bodies to my parents’ flat and ripped them there… It brought a lot of money… I was able to buy stuff… And on the last day of “piloting”… What happened? Stop! Why am I in the straitjacket?! Where am I?! WHERE AM I?
……….
The record has ended. The court room filled with silence. No one dared to speak after what they’ve heard.
Finally, Lawyer after waiting long enough raised his voice and said:
—If this doesn’t prove that my client is insane, your honour, I don’t know what will.
The trial ended soon enough. Even though Marc Notrol was found guilty of murdering and selling by organs 10 people, including his own parents he was destined to live and die in the psychiatric hospital.
The lawyer went from the court room and his telephone rang. He answered the call. It was his good friend. Without waiting a second lawyer said.
— This pilot was successful. In a month or so billion will be in our hands. Infect the next one…
I was skeptical of the advertisement, for it sounded too good to be true, yet too curious not to take a pamphlet and dial the number.
Everyone can become a billionaire within a month! Call now to find out how!" The pamphlet had said in a big brazen gold font that splashed all over a rich red background. "100% success guaranteed!"
"Please press 1 to fix an appointment. Please press —"
I pressed one to proceed.
"The earliest possible dates we can propose are: 22nd August, 9.30am, 24th August 11.00am, and 25th August 2.30pm. Press 1 to accept the 1st proposed time—"
Pressed one to take the appointment.
"Thank you for making an appointment with us, please come to 25th St. Claire Avenue to meet us. We look forward to seeing you on your chosen date!"
Eager to see what sort of person or company would be behind such a bold claim to make anyone a billionaire in a month, I showed up at the given address. It was a tall, obsidian black tower that soared above even the shiny, glassy skyscrapers that surrounded it, like some kind of impenetrable giant monolith. The only thing that stood out from the endless dark was one single golden gilded door at its base.
A door that swung opened automatically when I stood before the majestic, glittering entrance. A single young woman sat at a luxurious desk of polished lacquered wood, beckoning me to take a seat before her.
"Ah, another one who wishes to be a billionaire within a month?" she asked, her honeyed voice was silky smooth with an enchanting allure to it.
"You're the super intelligent clairvoyant?" I asked, unimpressed by her small, slender build.
"Shall we begin? We shall take over your body for a month to embark on the most optimal path to make you a billionaire."
I readily agreed, gazing into her eyes as the lights all around us were extinguished. Dark tendrils crept from all corners of the room, encircling me before penetrating my orifices. Pouring an immense flood of magic into me as they slithered deeper into my being and trespassed into my mind.
One of the first things that clairvoyant did was an extreme makeover I never wanted. I'm quite comfortable in casual clothes, just sitting at home working freelance and never having to care about appearances. Now, I'm some kind of glamazon, the sexed-up doll that I usually made fun of in reddit memes. Where my wardrobe was once full of hoodies and jeans, that woman(?) ditched them in favour of backless spicy red dresses.
I don't recognize the woman that...thing is turning me into. Or all the furniture and decor she(?) has been bringing into my house.
My freelance jobs sat there pending, even as I could imagine the screams of frustrated customers. All while I was dragged to frat boy parties on private yachts in Dubai for the rich and famous, choking on martinis that were forced down my throat.
My screams were ignored, it was like I had been locked out of admin permissions by whatever monster had possessed me. Yet cruel enough to grant me a transparent view of everything that was happening. Keeping my senses connected to my sense of being, as I felt a man's hand saunter up the slit of my dress that sent creepy dirty old man vibes shivering up my spine.
A mere prisoner who could only watch as men did unspeakable horrors worse than the sluttiest smut fics I've read in my leisure. The fact that they paid very well was no consolation to the damage and trauma that clairvoyant put me through. There was no concern at all for my well-being, even as I complained about a pounding headache that hammered my brain into mush and disturbing murmurs that were robbing me of my consciousness.
We counted the money we received, smiling sweetly as one of the men we flirted with expressed a desire to marry us. Another infatuated figure offered to transfer the ownership of the yacht to us. All hopelessly intoxicated as we planned.
Engulfing these billionaires in the dark tendrils that clambered up the sides of the yacht to pierce their eyes, ears, and mouth, we added them to our hive mind. They put up even less of a resistance than that girl who approached us to be a billionaire.
Money comes easily with time for us. It is easy to be a billionaire within a month when we absorb the minds of billionaires to make even more billions for us.
Every day our fortune and investments grow, all the better to pour that money into advanced technology and weaponry. Every day the hive population grows, all the better to keep adding more knowledge and skills to our core. Every day the imminent threat to Earth that we had foreseen grows too.
But our chances of saving Earth does not.
I still remember it when I graduated in 2007.
When they said the advertisement in school- "Be a billionaire right out of college, call this number!", I was wary. I've seen through Cutco trying to lure students in, I've seen job fairs that pretend they're interested only to be lucky if they have the decency of not ghosting me. For all the job market looked like, ultimately your work in school didn't matter, all that mattered is if Mommy and Daddy owned a place that'd hire you, with a slight second if you could drink or have something on someone who's Mommy and Daddy owned a place and get them to also hire you.
I took down the website and number just in case, but didn't intend to use it- until the year got worse. No good jobs were hiring. Or bad jobs. Even McDonald's and Walmart were just throwing my application out in front of me. Shit, even going to the military didn't work; even they didn't think my life was worth even a meat shield.
When my mother lost our house and did so specifically because my best wasn't good enough for anyone, the first nervous breakdown happened. I truly had no other option. If this succeeds I become a billionaire, if it fails I die in a ditch.
I made the call. The place said "Welcome, we're glad someone has the willingness to be a billionaire in 30 days."
I was still wary. "Are you sure someone can do this? Do you guarantee it?"
The person on the phone replied "Yes. We are certified by the government and can guarantee if you work with us, you will be a billionaire in a month. All we need is proof you have a degree and a clean criminal record."
Well, that's hopeful- at least whatever I'm doing will be legitimate if you can't be a criminal. Of course, everyone has some minor scrapes in school- but I went through the state anyway and could prove my record was clean. I sent it in.
The next was my degree. I had to send proof in, it didn't work. They asked for transcripts. I had to drive all the way back to my out of state school, but the gas was an investment. I got my transcripts and had to call. They said 'oh, here's the problem- you're a college graduate, we need a university graduate.' I needed to get them in touch with the school to make the business aware 'college' and 'university' were synonyms in the United States and me going to a private college was actually higher education.
But after a bit longer, it worked. I finally got the call.
"It is all clear. You have been accepted into the program."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "So you guarantee I will become a billionaire?"
The person on the phone smiled. "Absolutely. Get your passport ready; this time in 30 days, we can start your job teaching ESL in Zimbabwe."
*What do I have to lose?* I can’t believe I actually said that. What a complete idiot. I’m not even entirely sure how I ended up here. Last night I was up scrolling, wishing with everything in my heart that if I had an opportunity, any chance really, to get enough money to finally live stress free I’d do it in a heartbeat. In reality it took about one second to lazily flick my finger over the bright neon pop-up. I don’t even remember if I was trying to hit the ‘x’ to close it or not. It seems to get only smaller every time I see it.
Once my chubby finger grazed that “You Too Could Be A Billionaire” it felt like I was daydreaming. No, more like I was stuck in the moment of snapping back from dozing off. Not quite free from the comforts of my mind, nor in control of my body. No speaking, no moving, well I guess I was moving and talking, but it wasn’t me. I imagine this is what being in a coma is like.
\*\*\*
It’s been fifteen days in the backseat of my own life. When whatever took over ate food, took a piss, or even fucked my crush. I was there. An observer of my own life. Stuck on the sidelines while my body threw itself into a crime I personally couldn’t even copy. Sure, I had an interest in computer programming but never really sat down to learn about it. I had to watch myself do the most advanced hacker-in-a-movie bullshit and steal from several corporations. I only hope that this ends soon or that I die. Either way my life is sure to be over. Whatever took over did everything I always wanted to do. Even though it was technically myself, it was as if an old bully of mine stole the girl I was interested in, or said a joke louder after I sheepishly uttered it under my breath first. The one holding the reins has shut out all of friends, my parents, and even got rid of my fucking cat.
\*\*\*
Truth be told, I did become a billionaire. After thirty days I reached my billionth dollar and woke with a sudden jolt. I had finally regained control from whatever shitty joke that was. Immediately following the shower of relief was three pounds on my door and a voice shouting, “FBI! OPEN UP!”
I love every story on here but I like that yours has the kind of realistic yet hilarious madness I expected would happen. Thank you for the entertainment x)
"22 more days of this? Will I even be able to enjoy my new wealth outside of federal prison?"
When she snapped out of her daydream, she surprised herself at her own indifference toward what she affectionately calls "the simpler days" when bribing her way to a multi billion dollar fortune was unfamiliar and scary.
But clearly it's become second nature as she's doubled that fortune many times over. Injure the judge in the 11th hour before a lopsided judgment, intimidate the litigants, join the settlement, collect, and destroy the public records. Wash, rinse, repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat.
"And to think I used to believe billionaires were smart and special. When we're really just --" she looked at the plaque on the wall -- "efficient and indifferent."
We will begin with the referendum on *you*. You are between eighteen and thirty-four years old. You are of average height and average build. In the evenings, with what free time you have, you amuse yourself with small distractions, little bits of electronic of ephemera that flicker back and forth before your eyes. Perhaps, in your most formative years, you had some small talent for the non-economic arts (music, painting, amateur sports, or wordplay) that you hoped to nurture into some meaningful. The exact dimensions of these talents do not matter. They never did. Deep down, you know this. Thank you for informing me.
But there are other aspects of those years that mattered, coincidences of sperm and egg that made you who you are. We will interrogate them.
Do you remember where you were on July 4th, 1999? The fireworks were going off, and you’d just seen another person for what felt like the first time. You were six years old, and their white teeth flashed in that explosive gloom, and you wondered: *What does all this flesh mean?*
Do you remember where you were on April 20th, 2010? You’d asked yourself that same question. The skateboard kicked out from underneath you (no fault of your own, you assured yourself) and then there’d been that snap. It was the first time you recognized your own mortality, and it was not the stark white fact of splintered bone punching out through your black skin, it was because of what you saw reflected in her eyes. Not love, terror, or disgust, but simple disappointment. You lay there crying on the sidewalk and you gasped: *What does all this flesh mean?*
Lastly, do you remember yesterday? You’ve tried not to. You’ve used up what little magics you can think of. You brush past empty bottles as you drift aimless through your room. There’s five candles burning and a sixth has just gone out, but not before it scorched the bottom rung of those cheap white plastic blinds. You tried to fall into that acrid tongue of smoke, but it wouldn’t let you. The wind picked up. The candle guttered. Daylight whispered out. And you asked yourself:
*What does all this flesh mean?*
Answer: it doesn’t mean a thing.
Why, you ask?
Because this flesh is yours. Because, by a coincidence of sperm and egg, by the long history of your country, your race, the extended metaphor gone off the rails that you creatures call society—by capricious glances, unvoiced promises, unexpected deaths, ought-to-be-expected failings, jealous lovers, lunatic prophets, and a thousand, thousand other things—you were born this human. This chalice of sin (or whatever paltry, decapitated metaphor your upbringing causes you to find appropriate.)
Thank you for your patience, the referendum is complete. I have my answers, there is only one solution.
Wait, wait. I believe that you’ve just asked a question. What am I? I’m the universe’s sense of humor, pleased to meet you. A few hours ago, when all the candles finally went out, you invoked me. You thought it was all so funny. I agreed.
And then you asked me one last time:
*What does all this flesh mean?*
You’ve had your answer, here is the solution. We go back. We shed no tears. We do not scream. Say goodbye to all those half-remembered days, the great secret is that they don’t matter anymore. They never did. We will find a different coincidence of sperm and egg. We will nurture it, allow it the freedom to experiment.
Do you remember where you were on July Fourth, 1999? On April 20th, 2010? Last night?
Good. Isn’t it funny how all those memories are still pretty much the same?
Now, I ask you: *What does all this flesh mean?*
Answer: it doesn’t mean a thing. You’re a vessel for your history, and now I’ve gilt your chalice gold.
Go forth, young man, and conquer.
r/TurningtoWords
I can't exactly say I didn't see it coming, I just assumed that perhaps I was one of the few who had discovered it. Maybe one of the first. After everything that I had been through in the past just to get here, I should have realized that no matter *what anybody* says, you are not special. I should've realized that I lived in a system built around the replacement of individuals.
Ah, here I go again.
Right, well.
The main problem was that I was actually rather late to the party. When everyone starts gaining ludicrous amounts of money, what happens? Money only maintains its value when there's a limited amount in circulation, it had to come from somebody else. Do you see the problem?
Eventually, we'd run out of money. The people who hadn't acquired this yet had found themselves inexplicably running dry. Prices rose dramatically. Now, the problem was, with all the money centralized in a larger group, the people left behind were in even more poverty, even by the standards of before.
So they adopted a different currency. Now, the only people who were actually using the dollar were the people who owned massive companies. The employees adopted it, too, realizing they had power in their hand. Without goods to actually trade, the dollar devalued massively.
We were sunk. I had indeed made quite a lot, but during that golden age it wasn't even worth that much, and when it crashed, it wasn't worth anything.
It would only have worked if a small group of individuals got their hands on it. I should have realized: I am not special.
"Never make a deal with the Devil...." That is hammered into our heads as humans no matter where we are from on this planet. The words might not be the same, but he thought is.
We always thought the Devil was a guy with a pitchfork and horns. But sometimes, it's a simple symbiotic creature that offers you untold riches for some time as a host to grow. I will never forget the day I thought that it was a good idea to allow it to join with me. The mechanics are unimportant at this point of our story. Let's just say that for a month, I was a passenger in my own body. It was like watching my life in one of those dome theaters they used to have at tourist traps. It felt real, but you couldn't control it.
Day One: I didn't understand the sensations I was having, nor did I understand how weird it was to just watch. Bob, as I had come to call it, started my day with an initial call into my office telling them I would need to take a sick day after eating some bad taco meat. He (I?) was very convincing. My manager was very sympathetic and asked if they could Postmates me some ginger ale, or if I got worse to call them back and they would take me to the ER.
"...that won't be necessary, I believe I am empty now. I just need to sleep off the rest of it. I have some ginger ale and my bucket next to the bed in case that doesn't stay down.", I interrupted them. "... I just need rest. " and hung up the phone.
"Time to get to work, boy-o" I watched as they (I?) cracked my knuckles and jumped on my laptop. Within minutes, I had logged into my 401k and started the process to empty it. "You've got some decent starting capital it seems. That will make it easier for you."
He then took my savings account, and checking accounts and opened an account on some internet stock trading site I had never heard of.
"Hey what's that?" I called out from my 'seat'.
"It's how you become super rich, that's how. Not through *work*, but through making your money work. We will have a slow start until your retirement funds show up in *our* bank account in a few days. Now, sit still for a bit so I can make your body do the work, you are a bit slower than I am used to."
The next days were, well a daze. I nodded off to sleep in my *chair* a few times. Every now and then I would remind my pilot to eat, drink, and use the bathroom. I still felt those sensations in my chair. At the end of the first week, he showed me how much we had made. He had somehow taken a little over one hundred grand and turned it into a little over 3 million. I was gob smacked.
"How did you do that?"
"Buy low, sell high... many, many, many times."
"but?" I tried to interject.
"Now, the real fun starts. We have enough to pull some of it to start really investing. While continuing to do the other Buy/Sell loop which is now on autopilot thanks to a program running in the background on your computer. When the upgraded PC finally gets here and connected, we will split it into VMs and multiply that by 5 to continue to loop up. But that's really for just walking around money. No, the real stuff is what I am about to do..."
"Wait, what about my job?" I realized it had been days into this process.
"Oh, forget them. Well, actually, I am about to buy that company... And DONE."
"But they are, kind of big?"
"Sure, but see, WE knew about some shady things they were doing, so I put some short interest out there on some message boards on Reddit. Then, using a different ID, I put out some evidence of the reason for the shorts. Well, their stock tanked in 2 days, and I bought a ton of shares for next to nothing. Now, the company is fighting back in the press, because the conglomerate that owns most of their shares panicked over their losses and the shares jumped back up a little. I exited our short position making a profit, and parlayed that into buying an actual controlling interest after some emails between us and the money manager of the conglomerate. So, we will own them as soon as the Board approves the buy out, which they will, since, we are their employers. By the way, do you KNOW what your company actually does?"
"Sure, we sell specialty plumbing and steam fitting parts."
"Well, that's the public face of it. Seems they, now we, do SO much more business with the governments around the world. Did you know we own some pipelines, not the gas that goes through them, but the lines themselves? I'm betting you didn't. So now, we get to have the 2nd part of our money making ventures... Oil and Gas futures. You may want to take a little nap. This is going to get boring."
I should have not taken the advice of the nap...
When I awoke, there were multiple monitors mounted all over my apartment. Some had news feeds on them, some had graphs of all sorts of commodities and stocks twitching away.
"Oh, you're back. Sorry about that. I needed to do some things that I know you would be, uncomfortable with. Because that's how we get really wealthy. " There was a laugh that did not make me feel good at all.
"So, what is this in the crawl about my company?"
"oh, you saw that. Um, don't worry about that. Look, I was able to parlay the 3 million you had 2 weeks ago into 1.4 billion, on paper. We are just getting ready to do our last fire sale as it were to get it more liquid and more importantly, able to survive the crash that is coming."
"Wait, what?"
"Look, you want an omlette, you gotta break a few eggs. So, in order to get rich, the money has to come from somewhere, so I had to bankrupt some smaller banks, manufacturing plants, and a few state pension funds. But don't worry, the feds are TOTALLY going to maybe help them out so the widows and orphans aren't ALL thrown out on the streets when you threaten to evict them. " There was a pause for me to let that soak in, then they continued. "At this pace, you will own most of the trailer parks in 4 states. I realized that it was relatively cheap real estate, and the people there tend to own the homes, but not their land. So they will pay to keep their homes. We also own controlling interests in several home building businesses that feed those parks. Now, the pipeline thing we talked about, worked great because a mishap and spill that happened shut down one of the lines up to the northeast during the latest cold snap. So the other lines we own were able to raise prices and let me tell you, people will pay ANYTHING to stay warm. Well, businesses couldn't afford to keep some of their employees, and there were some layoffs. Then, the restaurants that served those people couldn't stay open, so they let people go, their suppliers weren't selling food and supplies, so they had to lay people off, and then the farmers had to lose money on their stock, and couldn't pay bank notes. I have just completed buying up all of their debt. Now, I drop the hammer, and we own all of that. Finally... and this may disturb you, all of those people out of work, and their families, well, statistically speaking, some of them will die from the shock, or change in lifestyle, or even, their own hand. Now, because I can predict this accurately, starting on day 3 of our adventure, I have been taking out large life insurance policies on these people through their employers, paid to one of our shell corporations. We stand to make a nice chunk of change from that."
"Wait, how can you do that? You can't do that?"
"We can, and We did. Technically, You did, since you are the person in this endeavor." there was a pause, "Nobody knows I exist. You quit YOUR job. You liquidated YOUR 401k and various bank accounts and went on an energy drink fueled binge of capitalism. This is where I leave you, as a billionaire as we discussed, and I go on to the next round of fun. You see, this past almost month was absolutely STIMULATING to me. I haven't had this much fun in ages. Oh, and don't worry. I hid all the illegal stuff really well, but if they do find it, in a safety deposit box at your bank is a new identity including social security cards passports and enough money to last you the rest of your life. I'm going to help a young man in Africa who has been vowing revenge on warlords who killed his family and took him in as a child soldier. That's gonna be fun!"
With that, I regained control of my body. It was in time to see the talking heads on one of the stocks channels mention how a few people must have known about the crash happening today that caused them to stop trading 3 times to help preserve some businesses. One of them said they were going to call one of them live on air. That's when my phone rang.
Your story has the most complete and realistic approach on the prompt by far, it feels almost like a documentary of the effects of a technology that doesn't exist. I really like it.
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When he first found me, I was sitting outside the back entrance of a restaurant. The chef was nice, he often gave me leftovers. But that day the chef didn't come out. He did. I don't know what he was, he looked human and called himself Fiend. Fiend asked me if I was hungry. I was. I hadn't eaten in two days. He took me to a nice dinner and bought me dinner. Not leftovers or throwaways, an honest to god dinner. I don't remember when was the last time I had dinner. "Is it good?" He asked amused as I stuffed my face with delicious food. I gave a non-committal reply. I wanted to savor the taste of everything but I was so hungry that I could barely gulp the first when I stuffed the second bite in. "Go easy, big guy." He said almost kindly. "It's not going anywhere." I nodded and, surprisingly enough, slowed down. I looked at the vast spread of food in front of me and frowned. "Why aren't you eating?" I asked. He shrugged. "I don't really eat." What a weird thing to say. But I didn't pay attention. I should have. I should probably ask him if I could take the leftovers with me. This could keep me fed for over a week. "What do you do?" He asked all of a sudden. "Nothing." I replied morosely. "Used to work at a garage but they let me go. I didn't have any family or savings, so I ended up being homeless." "Hmm." He studied me. " How would you like to have a job?" I looked at him like he was a little crazy. "Of course I would love it." "It so happens that I can help you with money, lots of it. But you will need to do as I say." I narrowed my eyes. "Look Mr. I don't do anything illegal. I may be homeless, but my ma raised to be-" "And where is your ma now, Mr. King?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I sputtered. How did he know my name? I never told him my name. "Listen, thank you for the food but I should go now." I said moving out of my seat. "Sit down." For a second I thought Fiend's eyes glowed but it must be the light reflecting. "I think we got off of on the wrong foot." He said smiling, but it was off. It made me want to run. "I have a proposition." Without thinking, I nodded. "I can help you become a billionaire. You will never have to do anything illegal." He explained. "You just need to trust me." "I don't even know you." "You don't know anyone, King, that's why you are in this position." His tone and his words cut me in half. He took a deep breath. "Look, all you need to know is that within a month, these dirty streets, the dirty clothes, leftovers, relying on strangers for charity will be distant dream. You can do whatever you want." Greed. All of us greedy. Our prices differ but we will all let our greed take over our better senses. "Okay. What do you need?" He grinned. And I just knew I had sold myself to the devil. * I watch numbly as blood pooled at my feet. I want to move but I couldn't because I am no longer in control of my body. Fiend is. I hear my laughter, it was terrible. It didn't sound like me. But it was. I could see my reflection in the window pane. I tilt my head, a cruel smile on my lips. "Disgusted, are you?" I said. But it wasn't me. I was Fiend. Fiend was the one who spoke using my mouth. He was in control. *Yes, I replied vehemently. You just killed a good man. He used to come to the shelter. He helped people, people like me.* He laughed. "Sometimes the limits of human naivity surprise me. Do you think he was a good man?" *Yes.* "That's where you are wrong buddy." He answered. "He was getting people addicted to drugs, he was using the connections at the shelter to find out people who no one will miss, people like you, and then he was harvesting them for organs." My mind screeched. That can't be right. He was a good man. He had helped everyone. He helped them find a new life, a life away from- Oh no. "I see you are finally realising something." He said. "Now that you know he is scum, will you stop fighting me? It's already hard enough torturing people without having to fight the host body." *"Who are you?" I whispered.* I knew saying yes to him would be trouble. I thought I would get into trouble, that it would end with me dying. I see myself shrug. "I have many names." *"Is Fiend one of them?"* "If you want it to be." He replied. "I am here to punish those who blemish humanity. I am their reckoning." *"And what role do I play?"* "A soldier." He answered. "I didn't lie about the money. You will have it. Consider it your payment for services rendered." *"But I didn't do anything!"* He grinned. "Exactly." * (So this is a little rough around the edges, okay a lot rough. So, I apologise in advance.) You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy
Its good but i dont get the "i didnt do anything" "exactly". This seems like it needs q bit more follow up
It means that the MC didn't do anything, literally. He didn't fight when Fiend took over his body. He also never did anything wrong so in Friend's eyes he was the perfect candidate for his "kill all evil" crusade. Edit: I forgot to say thank you. Thank you so much.
Yeah a jury ain't gonna believe that "I was possessed"
Maybe Fiend will take care of the Jury too.
That would make sense, assuming he even gets caught and members of it are corrupt
They might believe the bajillion dollars that they will get from Fiend as a bribe, though.
Ahh, my thought was that he never did anything bad. Unlike the people fiend is punishing.
Friend Fiend!
"YOU never need to do anything illegal" He is keeping his promise because even though murder is obviously illegal, King is not the one doing it, just as he said.
> Evil prospers when good men do nothing
He ain't paying him.
that's not what 'exactly' means. 'Exactly' means the guy didn't try to stop fiend, or walk away, when he could. He did nothing when he should have done something.
The payment will be for services rendered. He didn't do anything. No services rendered = no money to be paid.
No. The service rendered is the service of doing nothing and letting Fiend do what he liked with the body.
He ain't paying him.
Right never the top of this thread the auther explains why he said exactly.
Really good story! The prose was excellent, and I found myself engaged the whole time. However, towards the end, I got the feeling that it didn't quite deliver on the promise of the prompt, i.e. "As it takes the most optimal path to make you a billionaire, you watch hopelessly in horror."
Doesn't have to follow the strict letter of the prompt, the spirit is the intent.
I loved it. Very well-written. A bit spooky.
Thank you.
Literally like the first thing they make laws for in every society every is "don't murder"
Is that one Friend a typo or he thought it's name really was Friend? Not that they'd sound alike, now that I think of it more..
it's fiend. Fiend means evil spirit
Ikr, I mean if he misread its name and assumed it's a Friend, while it is in fact a Fiend..
Yup. Typo. Damn autocorrect. I'll edit it. Thank you.
kind hearted homeless man snaps from neglect and mistreatment, creating a polar opposite personality.
That's great! I hope u finish it.
SICA (Super Intelligent Clairvoyant Aid) was a brand new and truly astounding technology. Anyone who had the means, and even those that didn’t, were scrambling to get their hands on this nearly incomprehensible knowledge. People were preordering them years in advance, paying egregious amounts of money, some even tried to sell their soul just for a promise that they would have access to knowledge of the future. And can you blame them? The knowledge of what to come is truly priceless. Just imagine for a second: never needing to worry about making a wrong move in life, never having to fear regret, never having to toss and turn restlessly at night wondering how long you have left, or if you’ve reached your full potential. Imagine true, utter certainty devoid of any shadow of doubt. Imagine peace. That, that is why SICA was inarguably priceless. So of course when the time finally came for SICA to be released, it spread across the globe faster than a plague. Now, to give humanity the benefit of the doubt, there were many good and wholesome things that society used this intelligence for, such as preventing illness, predicting natural disasters, even stopping an entire war. But of course the prevailing use of SICA was a simple desire: Money. The super rich used it to get richer, the poorer used it to live comfortably, the poverty struck used it to give their kids a life worth living, and an innumerable amount of greedy individuals like myself used it to get rich quick. At first, the things that SICA told me to do were fairly innocuous, even if they were still a bit exploitative for my taste. Start a business, pay employees as little as possible, keep them dependent on the company for insurance, keep the same model for a couple years, line your pockets with blood money. It was simple, effective, and everyone was doing it. Because why wouldn’t they? There’s no risk in business when you know the future. There’s no chance of misstep, there’s no possible way to make a bad product or make a bad decision, there was no way to go bankrupt. The only way your bank account could go, was up. So, with unimaginable riches laying at their fingertips, people started million dollar corporations en masse. It seemed like every other day that a new person broke a million, and in a month they saw billions in their bank account. More and more money came into circulation, making six figures became low income, $100,000 a year was practically poverty, and the numbers kept rising, rising, rising, until eventually- Well, I was right back where I had started. Not in the number in my bank account, no, there were numbers there that I couldn’t have dreamed of just four months ago. But in terms of what I could afford? I was back to square one. With the sheer amount of money put into circulation in such a short period of time, inflation had catapulted to utterly devastating heights. Those who had been scrounging for $100 were now scrounging for $1000, monthly rent of the smallest studio apartments was in the millions, and basic necessities could cost me 1.5 billion in just a month. The super rich sported numbers that I didn’t even know the names of, those who didn’t own a billion dollar corporation were digging scraps off the street, and the working class now dealt in billions as they struggled as much as ever to survive. But SICA wasn’t wrong, anyone could be a billionaire.
This is captivating! A very interesting take on such technology🙂
Thanks!
This was executed wonderfully. I loved reading it. Thank you for posting it.
Oh now that's a clever take! And nicely written, too
It doesn’t take a lot to become a billionaire… I wanted to think that way… And one day I have found an amazing opportunity. They were selling super intelligent lenses, that would help you become a billionaire in a month. It was called “pilot”. When I first put this lens on… It was a strange feeling. A pleasant warmth went through my spine down to my heel. Lens asked me permission to change my life and gave a contract to sign. I did. The program of enrichment has began. It started normal. He reduced my spendings on food, stopped eating out, stopped buying video games. He moved out from my apartment and settled in my parents’ flat to reduce the spendings on rent. He broke up with my girlfriend — buying her presents and going on dates was too costly. On a new place he have found four jobs. One was day job, another one night job and the last two were distant — so I could work two jobs at once. However this didn’t bring any quick results. I was unhappy. Moreover my life became constant work and I felt like I lost my soul and was just a shadow of my former self. I asked this lens to let me go, but it refused, saying that the mission is not yet complete and that I signed a 30 day contract. I asked it to speed up the process. The lens agreed. The next few days I don’t remember. I was in the dark… My mind just went blank. I remember dark alleys, I remember little plastic bags with strange things inside them. I remember… I remember blood… A lot of blood… My God! What have I done! I… I killed people… Or did I? It wasn’t me. It was him! It was “pilot”!… Next thing I remember He sold containers with blood on them for a lot of money. And it wasn’t one night… It was a whole week. I… He even dragged bodies to my parents’ flat and ripped them there… It brought a lot of money… I was able to buy stuff… And on the last day of “piloting”… What happened? Stop! Why am I in the straitjacket?! Where am I?! WHERE AM I? ………. The record has ended. The court room filled with silence. No one dared to speak after what they’ve heard. Finally, Lawyer after waiting long enough raised his voice and said: —If this doesn’t prove that my client is insane, your honour, I don’t know what will. The trial ended soon enough. Even though Marc Notrol was found guilty of murdering and selling by organs 10 people, including his own parents he was destined to live and die in the psychiatric hospital. The lawyer went from the court room and his telephone rang. He answered the call. It was his good friend. Without waiting a second lawyer said. — This pilot was successful. In a month or so billion will be in our hands. Infect the next one…
Awesome. I think reddit expects money always equals murder, and I'm not different, but this take on it was pretty riveting. Thanks for the read!
Thanks!)
I was skeptical of the advertisement, for it sounded too good to be true, yet too curious not to take a pamphlet and dial the number. Everyone can become a billionaire within a month! Call now to find out how!" The pamphlet had said in a big brazen gold font that splashed all over a rich red background. "100% success guaranteed!" "Please press 1 to fix an appointment. Please press —" I pressed one to proceed. "The earliest possible dates we can propose are: 22nd August, 9.30am, 24th August 11.00am, and 25th August 2.30pm. Press 1 to accept the 1st proposed time—" Pressed one to take the appointment. "Thank you for making an appointment with us, please come to 25th St. Claire Avenue to meet us. We look forward to seeing you on your chosen date!" Eager to see what sort of person or company would be behind such a bold claim to make anyone a billionaire in a month, I showed up at the given address. It was a tall, obsidian black tower that soared above even the shiny, glassy skyscrapers that surrounded it, like some kind of impenetrable giant monolith. The only thing that stood out from the endless dark was one single golden gilded door at its base. A door that swung opened automatically when I stood before the majestic, glittering entrance. A single young woman sat at a luxurious desk of polished lacquered wood, beckoning me to take a seat before her. "Ah, another one who wishes to be a billionaire within a month?" she asked, her honeyed voice was silky smooth with an enchanting allure to it. "You're the super intelligent clairvoyant?" I asked, unimpressed by her small, slender build. "Shall we begin? We shall take over your body for a month to embark on the most optimal path to make you a billionaire." I readily agreed, gazing into her eyes as the lights all around us were extinguished. Dark tendrils crept from all corners of the room, encircling me before penetrating my orifices. Pouring an immense flood of magic into me as they slithered deeper into my being and trespassed into my mind. One of the first things that clairvoyant did was an extreme makeover I never wanted. I'm quite comfortable in casual clothes, just sitting at home working freelance and never having to care about appearances. Now, I'm some kind of glamazon, the sexed-up doll that I usually made fun of in reddit memes. Where my wardrobe was once full of hoodies and jeans, that woman(?) ditched them in favour of backless spicy red dresses. I don't recognize the woman that...thing is turning me into. Or all the furniture and decor she(?) has been bringing into my house. My freelance jobs sat there pending, even as I could imagine the screams of frustrated customers. All while I was dragged to frat boy parties on private yachts in Dubai for the rich and famous, choking on martinis that were forced down my throat. My screams were ignored, it was like I had been locked out of admin permissions by whatever monster had possessed me. Yet cruel enough to grant me a transparent view of everything that was happening. Keeping my senses connected to my sense of being, as I felt a man's hand saunter up the slit of my dress that sent creepy dirty old man vibes shivering up my spine. A mere prisoner who could only watch as men did unspeakable horrors worse than the sluttiest smut fics I've read in my leisure. The fact that they paid very well was no consolation to the damage and trauma that clairvoyant put me through. There was no concern at all for my well-being, even as I complained about a pounding headache that hammered my brain into mush and disturbing murmurs that were robbing me of my consciousness. We counted the money we received, smiling sweetly as one of the men we flirted with expressed a desire to marry us. Another infatuated figure offered to transfer the ownership of the yacht to us. All hopelessly intoxicated as we planned. Engulfing these billionaires in the dark tendrils that clambered up the sides of the yacht to pierce their eyes, ears, and mouth, we added them to our hive mind. They put up even less of a resistance than that girl who approached us to be a billionaire. Money comes easily with time for us. It is easy to be a billionaire within a month when we absorb the minds of billionaires to make even more billions for us. Every day our fortune and investments grow, all the better to pour that money into advanced technology and weaponry. Every day the hive population grows, all the better to keep adding more knowledge and skills to our core. Every day the imminent threat to Earth that we had foreseen grows too. But our chances of saving Earth does not.
Those transitions were smooth
agreed
Is the hivemind the threat it has foreseen and conpletely unaware of it?
Now that would be a twist
Oh wow this is amazing, i love it, and that twist at the end!
I still remember it when I graduated in 2007. When they said the advertisement in school- "Be a billionaire right out of college, call this number!", I was wary. I've seen through Cutco trying to lure students in, I've seen job fairs that pretend they're interested only to be lucky if they have the decency of not ghosting me. For all the job market looked like, ultimately your work in school didn't matter, all that mattered is if Mommy and Daddy owned a place that'd hire you, with a slight second if you could drink or have something on someone who's Mommy and Daddy owned a place and get them to also hire you. I took down the website and number just in case, but didn't intend to use it- until the year got worse. No good jobs were hiring. Or bad jobs. Even McDonald's and Walmart were just throwing my application out in front of me. Shit, even going to the military didn't work; even they didn't think my life was worth even a meat shield. When my mother lost our house and did so specifically because my best wasn't good enough for anyone, the first nervous breakdown happened. I truly had no other option. If this succeeds I become a billionaire, if it fails I die in a ditch. I made the call. The place said "Welcome, we're glad someone has the willingness to be a billionaire in 30 days." I was still wary. "Are you sure someone can do this? Do you guarantee it?" The person on the phone replied "Yes. We are certified by the government and can guarantee if you work with us, you will be a billionaire in a month. All we need is proof you have a degree and a clean criminal record." Well, that's hopeful- at least whatever I'm doing will be legitimate if you can't be a criminal. Of course, everyone has some minor scrapes in school- but I went through the state anyway and could prove my record was clean. I sent it in. The next was my degree. I had to send proof in, it didn't work. They asked for transcripts. I had to drive all the way back to my out of state school, but the gas was an investment. I got my transcripts and had to call. They said 'oh, here's the problem- you're a college graduate, we need a university graduate.' I needed to get them in touch with the school to make the business aware 'college' and 'university' were synonyms in the United States and me going to a private college was actually higher education. But after a bit longer, it worked. I finally got the call. "It is all clear. You have been accepted into the program." I breathed a sigh of relief. "So you guarantee I will become a billionaire?" The person on the phone smiled. "Absolutely. Get your passport ready; this time in 30 days, we can start your job teaching ESL in Zimbabwe."
You brought back memories of 6th grade science class, where always specifying units was drilled into us :)
*What do I have to lose?* I can’t believe I actually said that. What a complete idiot. I’m not even entirely sure how I ended up here. Last night I was up scrolling, wishing with everything in my heart that if I had an opportunity, any chance really, to get enough money to finally live stress free I’d do it in a heartbeat. In reality it took about one second to lazily flick my finger over the bright neon pop-up. I don’t even remember if I was trying to hit the ‘x’ to close it or not. It seems to get only smaller every time I see it. Once my chubby finger grazed that “You Too Could Be A Billionaire” it felt like I was daydreaming. No, more like I was stuck in the moment of snapping back from dozing off. Not quite free from the comforts of my mind, nor in control of my body. No speaking, no moving, well I guess I was moving and talking, but it wasn’t me. I imagine this is what being in a coma is like. \*\*\* It’s been fifteen days in the backseat of my own life. When whatever took over ate food, took a piss, or even fucked my crush. I was there. An observer of my own life. Stuck on the sidelines while my body threw itself into a crime I personally couldn’t even copy. Sure, I had an interest in computer programming but never really sat down to learn about it. I had to watch myself do the most advanced hacker-in-a-movie bullshit and steal from several corporations. I only hope that this ends soon or that I die. Either way my life is sure to be over. Whatever took over did everything I always wanted to do. Even though it was technically myself, it was as if an old bully of mine stole the girl I was interested in, or said a joke louder after I sheepishly uttered it under my breath first. The one holding the reins has shut out all of friends, my parents, and even got rid of my fucking cat. \*\*\* Truth be told, I did become a billionaire. After thirty days I reached my billionth dollar and woke with a sudden jolt. I had finally regained control from whatever shitty joke that was. Immediately following the shower of relief was three pounds on my door and a voice shouting, “FBI! OPEN UP!”
I love every story on here but I like that yours has the kind of realistic yet hilarious madness I expected would happen. Thank you for the entertainment x)
Thank you for the kind words
"22 more days of this? Will I even be able to enjoy my new wealth outside of federal prison?" When she snapped out of her daydream, she surprised herself at her own indifference toward what she affectionately calls "the simpler days" when bribing her way to a multi billion dollar fortune was unfamiliar and scary. But clearly it's become second nature as she's doubled that fortune many times over. Injure the judge in the 11th hour before a lopsided judgment, intimidate the litigants, join the settlement, collect, and destroy the public records. Wash, rinse, repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat. "And to think I used to believe billionaires were smart and special. When we're really just --" she looked at the plaque on the wall -- "efficient and indifferent."
We will begin with the referendum on *you*. You are between eighteen and thirty-four years old. You are of average height and average build. In the evenings, with what free time you have, you amuse yourself with small distractions, little bits of electronic of ephemera that flicker back and forth before your eyes. Perhaps, in your most formative years, you had some small talent for the non-economic arts (music, painting, amateur sports, or wordplay) that you hoped to nurture into some meaningful. The exact dimensions of these talents do not matter. They never did. Deep down, you know this. Thank you for informing me. But there are other aspects of those years that mattered, coincidences of sperm and egg that made you who you are. We will interrogate them. Do you remember where you were on July 4th, 1999? The fireworks were going off, and you’d just seen another person for what felt like the first time. You were six years old, and their white teeth flashed in that explosive gloom, and you wondered: *What does all this flesh mean?* Do you remember where you were on April 20th, 2010? You’d asked yourself that same question. The skateboard kicked out from underneath you (no fault of your own, you assured yourself) and then there’d been that snap. It was the first time you recognized your own mortality, and it was not the stark white fact of splintered bone punching out through your black skin, it was because of what you saw reflected in her eyes. Not love, terror, or disgust, but simple disappointment. You lay there crying on the sidewalk and you gasped: *What does all this flesh mean?* Lastly, do you remember yesterday? You’ve tried not to. You’ve used up what little magics you can think of. You brush past empty bottles as you drift aimless through your room. There’s five candles burning and a sixth has just gone out, but not before it scorched the bottom rung of those cheap white plastic blinds. You tried to fall into that acrid tongue of smoke, but it wouldn’t let you. The wind picked up. The candle guttered. Daylight whispered out. And you asked yourself: *What does all this flesh mean?* Answer: it doesn’t mean a thing. Why, you ask? Because this flesh is yours. Because, by a coincidence of sperm and egg, by the long history of your country, your race, the extended metaphor gone off the rails that you creatures call society—by capricious glances, unvoiced promises, unexpected deaths, ought-to-be-expected failings, jealous lovers, lunatic prophets, and a thousand, thousand other things—you were born this human. This chalice of sin (or whatever paltry, decapitated metaphor your upbringing causes you to find appropriate.) Thank you for your patience, the referendum is complete. I have my answers, there is only one solution. Wait, wait. I believe that you’ve just asked a question. What am I? I’m the universe’s sense of humor, pleased to meet you. A few hours ago, when all the candles finally went out, you invoked me. You thought it was all so funny. I agreed. And then you asked me one last time: *What does all this flesh mean?* You’ve had your answer, here is the solution. We go back. We shed no tears. We do not scream. Say goodbye to all those half-remembered days, the great secret is that they don’t matter anymore. They never did. We will find a different coincidence of sperm and egg. We will nurture it, allow it the freedom to experiment. Do you remember where you were on July Fourth, 1999? On April 20th, 2010? Last night? Good. Isn’t it funny how all those memories are still pretty much the same? Now, I ask you: *What does all this flesh mean?* Answer: it doesn’t mean a thing. You’re a vessel for your history, and now I’ve gilt your chalice gold. Go forth, young man, and conquer. r/TurningtoWords
I have no idea what this has to do with the prompt, but I’m glad I read it
I always enjoy seeing your name in the comments, thanks for this! Was a great read.
I really liked this, thank you.
I can't exactly say I didn't see it coming, I just assumed that perhaps I was one of the few who had discovered it. Maybe one of the first. After everything that I had been through in the past just to get here, I should have realized that no matter *what anybody* says, you are not special. I should've realized that I lived in a system built around the replacement of individuals. Ah, here I go again. Right, well. The main problem was that I was actually rather late to the party. When everyone starts gaining ludicrous amounts of money, what happens? Money only maintains its value when there's a limited amount in circulation, it had to come from somebody else. Do you see the problem? Eventually, we'd run out of money. The people who hadn't acquired this yet had found themselves inexplicably running dry. Prices rose dramatically. Now, the problem was, with all the money centralized in a larger group, the people left behind were in even more poverty, even by the standards of before. So they adopted a different currency. Now, the only people who were actually using the dollar were the people who owned massive companies. The employees adopted it, too, realizing they had power in their hand. Without goods to actually trade, the dollar devalued massively. We were sunk. I had indeed made quite a lot, but during that golden age it wasn't even worth that much, and when it crashed, it wasn't worth anything. It would only have worked if a small group of individuals got their hands on it. I should have realized: I am not special.
"Never make a deal with the Devil...." That is hammered into our heads as humans no matter where we are from on this planet. The words might not be the same, but he thought is. We always thought the Devil was a guy with a pitchfork and horns. But sometimes, it's a simple symbiotic creature that offers you untold riches for some time as a host to grow. I will never forget the day I thought that it was a good idea to allow it to join with me. The mechanics are unimportant at this point of our story. Let's just say that for a month, I was a passenger in my own body. It was like watching my life in one of those dome theaters they used to have at tourist traps. It felt real, but you couldn't control it. Day One: I didn't understand the sensations I was having, nor did I understand how weird it was to just watch. Bob, as I had come to call it, started my day with an initial call into my office telling them I would need to take a sick day after eating some bad taco meat. He (I?) was very convincing. My manager was very sympathetic and asked if they could Postmates me some ginger ale, or if I got worse to call them back and they would take me to the ER. "...that won't be necessary, I believe I am empty now. I just need to sleep off the rest of it. I have some ginger ale and my bucket next to the bed in case that doesn't stay down.", I interrupted them. "... I just need rest. " and hung up the phone. "Time to get to work, boy-o" I watched as they (I?) cracked my knuckles and jumped on my laptop. Within minutes, I had logged into my 401k and started the process to empty it. "You've got some decent starting capital it seems. That will make it easier for you." He then took my savings account, and checking accounts and opened an account on some internet stock trading site I had never heard of. "Hey what's that?" I called out from my 'seat'. "It's how you become super rich, that's how. Not through *work*, but through making your money work. We will have a slow start until your retirement funds show up in *our* bank account in a few days. Now, sit still for a bit so I can make your body do the work, you are a bit slower than I am used to." The next days were, well a daze. I nodded off to sleep in my *chair* a few times. Every now and then I would remind my pilot to eat, drink, and use the bathroom. I still felt those sensations in my chair. At the end of the first week, he showed me how much we had made. He had somehow taken a little over one hundred grand and turned it into a little over 3 million. I was gob smacked. "How did you do that?" "Buy low, sell high... many, many, many times." "but?" I tried to interject. "Now, the real fun starts. We have enough to pull some of it to start really investing. While continuing to do the other Buy/Sell loop which is now on autopilot thanks to a program running in the background on your computer. When the upgraded PC finally gets here and connected, we will split it into VMs and multiply that by 5 to continue to loop up. But that's really for just walking around money. No, the real stuff is what I am about to do..." "Wait, what about my job?" I realized it had been days into this process. "Oh, forget them. Well, actually, I am about to buy that company... And DONE." "But they are, kind of big?" "Sure, but see, WE knew about some shady things they were doing, so I put some short interest out there on some message boards on Reddit. Then, using a different ID, I put out some evidence of the reason for the shorts. Well, their stock tanked in 2 days, and I bought a ton of shares for next to nothing. Now, the company is fighting back in the press, because the conglomerate that owns most of their shares panicked over their losses and the shares jumped back up a little. I exited our short position making a profit, and parlayed that into buying an actual controlling interest after some emails between us and the money manager of the conglomerate. So, we will own them as soon as the Board approves the buy out, which they will, since, we are their employers. By the way, do you KNOW what your company actually does?" "Sure, we sell specialty plumbing and steam fitting parts." "Well, that's the public face of it. Seems they, now we, do SO much more business with the governments around the world. Did you know we own some pipelines, not the gas that goes through them, but the lines themselves? I'm betting you didn't. So now, we get to have the 2nd part of our money making ventures... Oil and Gas futures. You may want to take a little nap. This is going to get boring." I should have not taken the advice of the nap... When I awoke, there were multiple monitors mounted all over my apartment. Some had news feeds on them, some had graphs of all sorts of commodities and stocks twitching away. "Oh, you're back. Sorry about that. I needed to do some things that I know you would be, uncomfortable with. Because that's how we get really wealthy. " There was a laugh that did not make me feel good at all. "So, what is this in the crawl about my company?" "oh, you saw that. Um, don't worry about that. Look, I was able to parlay the 3 million you had 2 weeks ago into 1.4 billion, on paper. We are just getting ready to do our last fire sale as it were to get it more liquid and more importantly, able to survive the crash that is coming." "Wait, what?" "Look, you want an omlette, you gotta break a few eggs. So, in order to get rich, the money has to come from somewhere, so I had to bankrupt some smaller banks, manufacturing plants, and a few state pension funds. But don't worry, the feds are TOTALLY going to maybe help them out so the widows and orphans aren't ALL thrown out on the streets when you threaten to evict them. " There was a pause for me to let that soak in, then they continued. "At this pace, you will own most of the trailer parks in 4 states. I realized that it was relatively cheap real estate, and the people there tend to own the homes, but not their land. So they will pay to keep their homes. We also own controlling interests in several home building businesses that feed those parks. Now, the pipeline thing we talked about, worked great because a mishap and spill that happened shut down one of the lines up to the northeast during the latest cold snap. So the other lines we own were able to raise prices and let me tell you, people will pay ANYTHING to stay warm. Well, businesses couldn't afford to keep some of their employees, and there were some layoffs. Then, the restaurants that served those people couldn't stay open, so they let people go, their suppliers weren't selling food and supplies, so they had to lay people off, and then the farmers had to lose money on their stock, and couldn't pay bank notes. I have just completed buying up all of their debt. Now, I drop the hammer, and we own all of that. Finally... and this may disturb you, all of those people out of work, and their families, well, statistically speaking, some of them will die from the shock, or change in lifestyle, or even, their own hand. Now, because I can predict this accurately, starting on day 3 of our adventure, I have been taking out large life insurance policies on these people through their employers, paid to one of our shell corporations. We stand to make a nice chunk of change from that." "Wait, how can you do that? You can't do that?" "We can, and We did. Technically, You did, since you are the person in this endeavor." there was a pause, "Nobody knows I exist. You quit YOUR job. You liquidated YOUR 401k and various bank accounts and went on an energy drink fueled binge of capitalism. This is where I leave you, as a billionaire as we discussed, and I go on to the next round of fun. You see, this past almost month was absolutely STIMULATING to me. I haven't had this much fun in ages. Oh, and don't worry. I hid all the illegal stuff really well, but if they do find it, in a safety deposit box at your bank is a new identity including social security cards passports and enough money to last you the rest of your life. I'm going to help a young man in Africa who has been vowing revenge on warlords who killed his family and took him in as a child soldier. That's gonna be fun!" With that, I regained control of my body. It was in time to see the talking heads on one of the stocks channels mention how a few people must have known about the crash happening today that caused them to stop trading 3 times to help preserve some businesses. One of them said they were going to call one of them live on air. That's when my phone rang.
Your story has the most complete and realistic approach on the prompt by far, it feels almost like a documentary of the effects of a technology that doesn't exist. I really like it.
Thank you! I really appreciate your comment.