In a world were the political left and the entire LGBTQ+, Radical Feminists, etc is eradicated and a new Reich is formed all starting from the fallen country Sweden

ATTENTION!! AFTER CHAPTER 10! the chapters get better and bigger!
ATTENTION !! English is not my first language! therefore, from chapters 1 to 10, there will be some grammatical errors ...
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ATTENTION!! Warning: Soy boys, feminists, gays and those who believe in hypocritical heroes are not allowed.
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This novel contains very detailed Sex scenes! Warning! Hardecore sex.
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ATTENTION!! Warning: Soy boys, feminists, gays and those who believe in hypocritical heroes are not allowed.
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Dark fantasy!
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Valerie gestured that Emma gives her the phone. "Hello, Mindy. Yeah, Valerie, exactly." she smiled at Emma. "Yes, well, we wanted to get a job at the University, precisely the Library, and we though who better to ask than you, since you are the most popular girl there and so well connected." Valerie faked a laugh. 
"Of course, we have experiences. Emma worked at the University of Manchester before and when I visited England, last year, I worked with her." Valerie looked at Emma, who had a scaring look in her eyes. 'Don't worry' she mouthed at her friend. "Recommendation letters? Yes, of course. We will send it by the end of the week." 
Valerie smiled triumphally. "Okay, so you will talk with your father. Oh, he is right beside you?" Valerie put on the most fake voice she could muster. "Good day, sir. Yes, we could come for an interview on next Friday. Yes, sir, we will bring our recommendation letters." 
Emma still looked like she would go crazy any moment. "Thank you, have a good day too." Valerie hung up the phone. 
"Are you crazy?!" yelled Emma at her friend. "Where will we find recommendation letters from Manchester Uni?" Valerie smiled at her friend. "Didn't you mention that somebody's father is pro our cause?" then it clicked to Emma. "Yes, yes I did. But we must tell him today so that he can arrange everything by next Friday. Let's go send him a telegraph, it will arrive faster." 
They got to the bedroom and decided to take turns in bathroom to freshen up and change into good clothes. Emma combed her red hair in the bombshell style, which added to the controversial look. Valerie put her dark brown hair in simple ponytail, not really wanting to attract attention to herself. 
They both decided to wear beige taupe high-neck dress with black heels.  Valerie decided to wear her baby blue button up blouse and slim black pants. Unlike some feminists, Emma liked to put makeup on, she would always wear black kohl eye pencil and mascara, her plump lips often painted with dark red lipstick. "Val, can I put some makeup on you?" she asked Valerie as she emerged from the bathroom. When she saw that Valerie was indecisive, she added "Just a tiny bit, how about mascara only?" at that Valerie smiled "Well, a little mascara wouldn't hurt anybody." 
When they were finished, they gathered their purses and left for the post office. As usual Emma was walking down the street with her head held up high, unbothered by the stares, showing off her body and makeup. 
When Valerie walked with Emma, her confidence always got a boost, so she would always make herself look relaxed as she would raise her head and straighten her back. Only thing Valerie could see as a problem was her father finding her, even though she was currently in another part of the city, far from her house. "Let's go, Val." tugged her Emma. "I just remembered." said Emma suddenly. "There is going to be a meeting tonight, around eleven at the Old Brewery. Should we go? And then maybe go dancing later?" Valerie smiled at her friend. 
"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? Go to a meeting, rile somebody up and then find cute guys to dance with you?" Emma's couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Well, you did get me there. But you know me, what would I do without entertainment?" as they continued to laugh and walk towards the postal office, they discussed what to have for lunch and buying groceries.

A/N: I would be very grateful if you could write a review. No matter good or bad, feedback always helps... 
I wish you will enjoy this novel, as much as I enjoy writing it!! Thank you! :)

It's the year 1965, with the Cold War still strongy raging on, one lone soul will embark on the journey of her life. 

Living in Washington D.C. was a waitress with big dreams, who finds herself in situation she could've never even imagined. 

Following her fight for Rights of the many, she meets her biggest challenge yet. 

Will she manage lead impactful life with help of her friend or will she have to give up her dreams and live within the norms?

Wilson Fisk was sitting down while looking at his young boss Ray who had become a young man of 18 years old.
"Wilson, that's the reason why I don't need bodyguards anymore, I was thinking of giving you my two bodyguards Oswald and Butch while I take a vacation with Clara. They are good bodyguards and they should be able to protect you.", Ray said with a smile.
(Wilson Fisk's point of view)
Oh God ! He is trying to dump on me the plague of sounds and the homosexual ! Those two are not bodyguards but walking disasters ! Wait if I were to push these two to Bakuto as well as add my current useless help Big Black Bertha, I am sure Bakuto would suffer ! Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Yes, that should make Bakuto's life miserable, the plague of sounds, the homosexual and Big Black Bertha ! Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Now how do I convince Ray ?
"Master, I think these bodyguards would be better served guarding Bakuto after all he always considered you to be a girly boy...", Wilson Fisk said with a devious smile.
"Did he ? How come I never heard anything about it ?", Ray asked with a slight look of anger.
"Yes if you don't believe me you can ask my assistant here Big Black Bertha. Isn't that right Bertha ?", Wilson Fisk asked seriously.
"Is Bakuto a white man ?", Big Black Bertha asked. Big Black Bertha is a black Female with pink hair that weighs more than 1 ton, she is a a Feminist.
"Yes, he just likes to have an exotic name and he is slim and normal.", Wilson Fisk said with a smirk.
"Lord or whatever your name is, yeah I probably heard Bakuto calling you a girly boy those few times you were not here.", Big Black Bertha said without caring.
"Really...", Ray said with a  slightly angry tone.
"It seems that I was wrong to push my bodyguards towards you Wilson...", Ray added.
"Wait Master, you don't have to send the bodyguards to Bakuto personally, just record your image and voice in the machine and I will happily bring the bodyguards and the message to Bakuto personally.", Wilson Fisk said with a happy smile.
"Oh ! Okay and good job Wilson !", Ray said as he recorded the message on the machine and passed it to Wilson Fisk.
"And Wilson, make sure to let Big Bertha know that Oswald is her boss. Oswald should be able to straighten up her rebellious attitude towards the Hand.", Ray said before he disappeared.
"You heard what the God of the Hand said, Oswald is your new boss.", Wilson Fisk said as he left his room to tell both Oswald and Butch that were outside his room that Bakuto would be their new boss. Wilson Fisk also told Oswald he was getting a new assistant named Big Black Bertha.
Of course Big Black Bertha the Feminists disagreed that a white man can be her boss, so Oswald talked to her on that night itself. On that same night of the discussion Big Black Bertha fainted with her ears bleeding while frothing from her mouth. She was rushed to the hospital. Oswald as her boss decided to visit her and talk to her. After 5 hours of talking to Big Black Bertha on her bed, Bertha jumped up out of her bed and ran away from hospital and Oswald.
After that a few days later, Bertha seemed to have changed her attitude, she lost some weight, she no longer had pink hair and anytime she sees Oswald she would jump up and stand straight up and shout out, "Yes !". Because of that whenever Oswald opened his mouth Big Black Bertha would jump up, stand straight and shout out, "Yes !", Oswald never got the chance to say anything.
A few day later after Big Black Bertha recovered, Wilson Fisk took the three bodyguards, Oswald, Butch and Bertha to see Bakuto. When they entered Bakuto's office, Wilson Fisk was the first to speak.
"Ah ! Bakuto, I have a message from our revered master Ray.", Wilson Fisk said as he put the message device on Bakuto's desk. Ray's image appeared and explained that after discussion with Wilson Fisk, it was decided that Oswald, Butch and Bertha would be Bakuto's new bodyguards.
When the message finished, Bakuto was shocked. He wondered what devious means did Wilson Fisk use to trick the God of the Hand, Ray. Bakuto was about to say something when Wilson Fisk spoke.
"Well my job is done. I should be going now, you know what to do Oswald, Butch and Bertha.", Wilson Fisk spoke with an evil smirk on his face.  After saying that Wilson Fisk immediately turned  around and left the office. Wilson Fisk had left instructions on how to protect Bakuto to the three bodyguards before meeting up with Bakuto.
Immediately after Wilson Fisk left, Big Black Bertha screamed and ran up to Bakuto and jumped on him. Bertha's big fat body that weighed more than 1 ton squashed Bakuto on the ground. Oswald came up to Bakuto and started talking to him. While Butch just sat next to Bakuto and started reading his nasty explicit gay sex magazines. Bakuto squashed under the weight of Bertha couldn't even speak as his body, ears and eyes were assaulted by his three new bodyguards.

To be continued...

After waking in someone else’s body our protagonist screamed out in fear as he found out he was in the Marvel Universe. Unfortunately for our power hungry protagonist he ended up in the 1980s Marvel Universe where nothing happened. So is our power hungry protagonist path to power stunted before it even started ? Read and find out !

(A/N: Lets be honest here, the backstory of the mc's life before his reincarnation isn't really necessary for the story so lets skip to meeting the ROB, okay?)

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In a vast and endless space of pure light, a young man is sitting on the floor (A/N: How the hell is there a floor in an endless space of nothing but pure light anyways?) with his arms behind his head. Across from him is an elderly man seemingly floating in mid air drinking a cup of coffee.

"So, I guess I'm dead huh? No one survives getting hit by a train going 380km/h so its not that surprising" Mutters the young man to no one in particular.

"Maybe pick friends who won't push you infront of train next time" replies the ROB, a slight smirk seen on his face. "You just have to rub it into my soul don't you, tch! Anyway so why am I here?" grumbled the young man in indignation.

After a brief chuckle at the lad's expense, the ROB replied "Well due to reasons such as yada yada yada so and so forth, you're being reincarnated with a system of your choice and 3 wishes."

Clearly still infuriated about his friends betrayal and incredibly distrustful of the ROB because of that, the young man thinks to himself 'A system and 3 wishes? WOW! AWESOME! I bet their is absolutely NO WAY this sketchy Gandalf looking mother fucker will screw me over. NOT. AT. ALL.'

"Well I wasn't planning on fucking you over, but I go out of my way to grant you some wishes and a system for your next life and you throw it back in my face? Fuck you! I shouldn't even waste my time on a annoying mortal cunt like you." Replies the ROB who is quite clearly a little bit displeased with the young man.

"..."

"You can read my thoughts" the man states, clearly realising how well and truly fucked he is if this god decides to thanos snap his magic fingers and *boop* him out of existence.

The ROB raises his arm and aggressively back hands the young man across the face, sending his soul flying out of the space of light, hearing a shout from the ROB as he smashes through the space they were in like smashing a window.

"Since you're such an ungrateful shit, you get a randomised system and thats it." The young mans soul flies at speed imperceptible speed to humans for days on end and eventually lands in a clump of transparent cyan crystal, towering at a height of two meters.

Upon arriving in his new body(?), the young clump of crystals hears a sound in his head which he can already tell will get on his nerves faster than a Karen preaching about having equal rights as men who then proceed to hit men and expect to get away with it, only to get a backhand like the cunt she is and pull the "You can't hit me I'm a woman" card.

(A/N: 'Karen', Degenerates Like You Belong On A Cross)

< DING DING DING >

< DING DING DING >

< DING DING DING >

< Congratulations Host! Despite your blatant disrespect to my creator, he calmed down after a while and realised you were still angry about how you died and has forgiven your insults against him and his majestic looks that were 100% not copied from the Gandalf and awarded you a system you actually desired >

< So, allow me to formally introduce myself, Hello Host Alexander! I am the Dungeon System! >

=========================================

(A/N: As you can tell I quite dislike Karens, I have no issues against feminists who do want the equal rights as men, and when I say equal I mean equal. I do however have issues with feminazi's who want to be equal as men and pull the gender card every time someone follows through with that equality. "Are no men on this bus going to stand up and let me sit down and sit in their seats?!?" No Karen you absolute cow, we've gotten so sick of your shit that if I had to throw someone off a cliff between you and hitler, I think hitler would grab you by the arms and help me throw you off. Also, sorry to anyone called Karen who isn't like a 'Karen'. And also sorry to any feminists. Feminazi's? Ya'll can fuck off)

Your average guy gets reincarnated into a fantasy world with a dungeon system.

[Note]

I have autism and a few other things that really screw me over when it comes to motivation and what not so I may be inconsistent with uploads. I'll try my best to keep to a schedule of uploading a chapter once per week but theres no promises.

I also struggle a lot with my memory, so despite the fact that I love videk games and I've been playing them since I was a child, chances are this won't be the best novel ever and I'll make dumb mistakes or be repetitive so I am more than willing to listen to suggestions for the novel! =)

After Nathan deactivated his skill, he went to where he placed his smartphone and picked it up.

"Wait here. Don't try anything funny," he commanded.

"Okay."

He went to his room to get the emergency light. 

With the emergency light now in front of him, he started to contemplate.

'Should I bring this emergency light in the living room? There's a reason why I placed it here and shut my windows tight because I didn't want to attract zombies or anyone.

Should I bring her to my room instead?

No. What if she really has bad intentions? With the limited space in my room, I might get fucked up. What? I'm a man and she's a woman so it's okay because I can overpower her easily? I won't take that chance.'

He had a point. If this was before the apocalypse, he wouldn't fear her because he was 6ft tall and works out so he was confident in his physical prowess, especially against a woman. 

However, since the apocalypse, knowing that he was given a skill by the system, why not other people as well? He doesn't believe he's the only chosen one at this apartment building. What's worse, their skill could even be more deadly compared to his.

'Damn. I wish I had a skill that could read the status of other people.'

After thinking less than a minute, he finally decided to bring the emergency light in the living room. If that woman really has bad intentions, with the available space in the living room and his skill, his chances of escaping are higher.

*************************** 

In the living room.

Ashleigh was sitting on the sofa and playing with her phone while patiently waiting for Nathan. She was also wishing that Amir will come home as well.

Nathan finally came back. 

There was a coffee table in the middle. He placed the emergency light there.

With the light illuminating the surrounding, they finally get to see each other's features.

Ashleigh was indeed beautiful, probably at least an 8. She had the face of a runway model and had a voluptuous body. Combined with her outfit, Nathan couldn't help but have an erection.

'My cousin really has game.'

However, after remembering that this was his cousin's woman, the erection he had immediately disappeared.

In terms of looks, Nathan, on the other hand, had a very average face with shoulder-length black hair and a goatee. Yes, he has a man bun. Compared to his cousin, who was at least a 7, he was at best a 4.

"How are you related to Amir?" she asked.

"I'm his cousin. You?" Nathan answered.

"Oh, I see. Yeah, there's a bit of a resemblance between you two. I'm his girlfriend," she said with a bright smile as if she was very proud of it.

'Girlfriend? Well, Amir is quite a catch, but he has too many women.' Nathan thought and felt bad for the bimbo.

"I see," Nathan replied.

"Do you know when is Amir coming home?" she asked.

"I don't know. Probably in the morning."

"Did you hear the explosion? When is the electricity coming back? I can hear people screaming outside."

"I don't care about that. As long as we stay inside, everything will be fine."

"Really? What if it doesn't?"

'This…'

He was starting to have a headache so he tried to get rid of her.

"Don't you want to rest? You can use Amir's room."

"But… I'm afraid. Can we just stay together until Amir comes back?" she begged and was about to cry.

'Fuck you! I'm already being kind by letting a stranger like you in. You still have the audacity to demand more things?! I don't owe you anything, lady!' Nathan cursed inside his heart, but he didn't know what to do.

After thinking for a moment, he said, "As you mentioned earlier: What if things don't work out fine? In the morning, if things aren't looking that great, we will have to escape so I need you to be in your best condition."

"Can't we just sleep together in one bed? I'm really afraid. Plus, wouldn't that be safer?" she started sobbing.

At that moment, Nathan had a strong urge to strangle the bitch, but he quickly suppressed it. 

'My god, where are the batshit crazy feminists when you need them?!'

"Listen. Just be a good girl and do what I tell you, okay?" he tried his best to give his warmest smile.

"But…"

He didn't let her continue and said, "Come on, I'll lead you to Amir's room." 

He grabbed her arm and brought her to Amir's room.

"I am a Chosen One! I refuse to bow down to society! Society must bow down to me!" 


Nathan is your average 24-year old man. Just like everyone else, he experienced both pain and happiness in his life which shaped him into the man who he is. 


One day, God unleashed a zombie apocalypse and gave humanity the System that allows them to level-up, forever changing the world. And among the humans, there are beings called Chosen Ones who are slightly better off than the average humans. 


Follow the journey of a man who slowly descends into madness as he survives in a zombie apocalypse and rises to power. 


Author's note: I took some ideas from the novel [God and Devil World].

Not all BDSM acts are physical. "Intense language as a use of force can be just as intense, or even more intense, as consensually degrading physical sensations, such as impact play," Horn says. A common example of humiliation is name-calling and verbal abuse. One of the most common misconceptions about humiliation play is that it's antifeminist. But the truth is, many feminists enjoy being called names such as "bitch," "slut," or "whore" in bed—your kinks are not your values. In a patriarchal world where women have long been told sex is not for pleasure, addressing what gets you off—especially if it's nontraditional like humiliation—and then engaging it can be a powerful way to take control of your sexuality. As always, discuss humiliation beforehand and keep it consensual. Your partner may be okay with being called a "slut" but not a "bitch" so be sure to define your boundaries.

There was a bright flash and Johan found himself on a brown dirt road next to a rice farm. A little distance a way, a group of asian women were knee deep in rice water picking rice.

The sun was high in the sky and beat down on them with rays of scorching heat. 

"*Sniff* *Sniff*," sobbed Rey quietly rubbing her eye with her free hand, "I miss my daddy! I wanna go back!"

"Oh honey ...," said Miss Obama softly picking Rey up and hugging her, "we can't. But I have something for you."

Miss Obama put Rey down, took shining stones her pocket and pressed them into Rey's chest. There was a bright blinding flash of light and suddenly, a tall obese black male teenager wearing gold chains, face tattoos, and golden teeth stood where little Rey had been. He looked like a teenage Mike Tyson.

"Who are you?," asked Johan.

Johan stared at black teen.

"Oh no ...," muttered Miss Obama shaking her head, "I was hoping we could gather more stones to avoid Rey's teenage years. She lost her charm for a bit when she hit puberty."

"Yo," sneared Rey crossing her oddly arms, "what you starin at? I be Ke-ev? Stop starin or I'll do to you what I did to Tupac!"

"That is Rey as a teenager!?," said Johan in disbelief, "but that is a boy ..."

Johan couldn't comprehend what was going on. How did Rey ... a petite sweet girl grow to be a teenage Mike Tyson?

"Rey!," said Miss Obama, "Johan is our friend! Be kind! and stop using that silly name!"

"Its my gang name Voodoo Queen. Its not silly," said Rey, "But that punk looks like he be up ta somethin. Im keepin my eyez on him." 

"She took some time to get over the brutal murder of her father," whispered Miss Obama to Johan, "it changes people. Manifested as this in her teenage years."

"It doesn't make girls into men!," said Johan.

"That is her makeup," said Miss Obama. "She never was very good at applying it, despite being incredibly pretty."

"I ain't no man," said Rey flexing her muscular arms and chest, "I am a manifestation of girl power. By exerting my feminist powers, I'll make sure you stay single and a virgin forever cause that is what feminists do! Destroy innocent people's lives!"

"I think you got your facts backwards Rey ...," said Johan.

"Whatever," said Rey tossing her non-existent hair and turning away from Johan.

"Now that that is out of the way," said Miss Obama, "lets get back to business. We are looking for a soul stone. We are currently in 1839. Rey go, you know how important this is."

"Aight!," said Rey, "I got this shizzle. I sense it."

Rey walked away down the street leaving Johan and Miss Obama behind.

"Did she really kill Tupac?," asked Johan as a bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Teenagers need their space," said Miss Obama watching Rey walk away, "and I needed to cultivate. So, I did not pry."

"I see," muttered Johan, "are all potential gods as weird as that?"

"Its just puberty," said Miss Obama, "if she was a mortal, I doubt she'd be very different. Gods cultivate and grow just like humans. The difference is that they start out at a higher point. Think of them as beings with talent and extremely strong constitutions. There are classes of gods, and they improve a different rates. Just like humans. They even have cultivation techniques that differ from mortals."

"I noticed that Rey's spirit stones seem to be appearing in places and times of instability," said Johan, "is there a reason for this?"

"Good observation," said Miss Obama, "In fact, we are days away from the second Anglo-Chinese drug war. The country has been overrun with opiates imported illegally by the brits which have caused a good deal of the population to get addicted. This is effecting productivity and hurting China's GDP. The Queen of England ignored the Qing dynasty's pleads to put a halt to her people's drug dealing activities. In turn, China is moments away from cracking down on the British India Companies illegal opium imports. This will upset the brits and cause them to take action. It seems the array is drawn to sending the spirit stones to eras of conflict."

"Sounds a lot like what Pablo Escobar did in America," said Johan, "I guess that the British monarchy was pretty ruthless when it came to making a profit in the past. Except, I think they probably won the drug war seeing how successful Britain is today. But that doesn't answer my question."

"I have no answers to the workings of Athelion's array," said Miss Obama, "but, let's head down to Guangzhou, I had an old friend that was a skillful array master who sought refuge away from the higher realm down here. Perhaps, he will know more."

"Alright," said Johan.

-- Ø --

The city was bustling with commoners, merchants, drug dealers, foreigners and business men. Business was clearly flourishing. Buildings and wooden stalls were setup all around them as far as the eye could see.

Miss Obama led Johan down a series of dirt streets to a warehouse. She opened the door leading them inside, then took them up a flight of stairs. They got to an office door which was suddenly opened by a tall young handsome middle aged asian man with short black hair.

Miss Obama and Kwan stood looking into each others eyes as unspoken words, experiences and shared memories seemed to flow through their minds.

"Ahhhh Voodoo Queen," said the asian man, "it has been years, what brings you here of all places? Doesn't this realm stagnate your abilities?"

Miss Obama gave the asian man a warm hug.

They let out a relieved sigh.

"A mystery," said Miss Obama, "it is nice to see you again Mr Kwan."

"The pleasure is mine," said Mr Kwan.

"It seems an overly complicated array was left by the Athelions," said Miss Obama, "it has an end node here. I was wondering if you knew anything about it."

"Ahhh yes," muttered Kwan, "I am very aware of this array. That civilization did much harm, and yet, its accomplishments are to this day unrivaled. Come into my office and sit old friend."

Johan followed Miss Obama into the room.

The office smelt of smoke and Chinese food. The walls were yellow. The walls had shelves lined with books and a wooden office desk with heaping piles of papers on it. Behind the table was a single black chair. In front of the desk were two more black chairs. 

"Is the boy your apprentice?," asked Kwan, "I thought you proclaimed you had no wish to have one ever again."

"No," said Miss Obama, "he is a friend of my apprentice. I do have a very talented apprentice now. Perhaps you will meet her in the future." 

"For someone of your status to call someone talented," said Kwan, "is truly shocking. Even moreso that you went back on your word. Many in the past would kill for such an opportunity. She must be spectacular."

"Without a doubt," said Miss Obama, "however, I feel I have fallen short of developing her abilities. She is unique. But this is a conversation for another time. For now, tell me what you know about this array."

"Very well," said Kwan sitting down in a chair behind his office table.

Johan and Miss Obama also took a seat in front of the table waiting to hear what Kwan had to say.

A mysterious beast in an alley and a strange letter from a mystical being propel Johan to the stage of gods and their matters. 

Violence, love, magic, time travel, hot girls and many mysteries to be solved ... 

Follow Johan as he is put in situations where he is forced to leave everyday responsibilities and stand against gods.


The Village Voice defines Eclipse as a cross between MoMA and an acid trip. The feminists of New York classify it under meat market. But as the old man said in Citizen Kane, if you just want to make money, there's no trick to it.
Well, maybe a few tricks.
The atmosphere of Eclipse was a deliberate contrast to that of The Station and its trendy imitators. Black lights flashed to the beat of music with the bass cranked so high, I couldn't tell if it was Chopin or Cradle of Filth. Escher and Dali prints hung on the walls at skewed angles. Every few feet a bizarre sculpture, probably a third place winner in a high school art show, adorned the magentatiled floor.
I honed in on a girl sitting alone in a booth. She was voluptuous, her round face framed with a mop of blond hair that looked like she had cut it herself. Dark circles under her eyes peeked out from gaps in her foundation. An oversized tshirt bearing John Lennon's face hung off one naked shoulder. It glowed violet under the black lights. She took a long drag from a menthol cigarette, staring off into space.
I strode over, armed with a gentle smile and eye contact. She looked up at me, and I could see the red inflammation around her button nose. She almost returned my smile as I sat on the hard plastic seat across from her. She pulled out a new cigarette and my hand was there, Zippo open and ignited. The old tricks may be old, but they work.
I asked her if she was a Dali fan, because the print above our booth was The Temptation of St. Anthony. "Dolly who?" she wanted to know, brushing her hand against mine. I was about to subtly point out the use of erotic imagery in surrealist art, when I saw my second Autumn Person.
His face was long and jagged, like that of a mantis. His visage held no beauty, just hateful, amber eyes that said they would kill me if I made him do that to this woman. He loomed behind her in the Plexiglas wall of the booth. Slowly, he spread out wings that were thin, veined, and translucent. I thought for a moment that they must be hard and crunchy. I stood, gnawing away at my tongue. I ran, leaving my trusty Zippo behind. The moment I was through the door, I threw up on the sidewalk.
I staggered to Port Authority, and cleaned myself up in the urinescented bathroom. I took a long, hard look in the filthy mirror. What do I have to do, I wondered, chop my balls off?
I went back home. I turned the radio to 1010 WINS, and turned the volume down until the newscasters' voices were incoherent mumbles. I lay in bed with the lights on, and the pillowcase over my eyes. Another trick. It almost seemed like someone was there in the room, talking to me. With enough alcohol in my veins, I would have believed it.

I dreamt of The City.
Its air was clean and sweet. Towers of crystal arched around and through one another. Each structure was a sculpture, each design flowing with elegance and grace. Millions strode along its streets. They were healthy and strong, their eyes clear and shining with purpose.
They were happy.
Without warning, the city began to run backwards, like a film in reverse. The people became either bloated or scrawny, their skin sallow, their faces twisted with pain. The crystal exteriors of the towers splintered away as if just a facade, revealing concrete skyscrapers beneath. Graffiti demanding death, a screw, or both, scribbled itself across their walls. Automobiles choked the streets, their horns and alarms blaring as they drove backwards.
With a jerk, the film rolled forward again.
The city burst into white flame. Its people splintered like dry kindling. A mushroom cloud bloomed in the center of the metropolis, rising into the burning sky.
The film froze, pausing the cloud in midincineration. Then the film ran backwards again, and the mushroom deflated.
A swarm of roaches spewed from the reversing billows. They swept me in their tide as the charred meat around me reformed into human beings, as the buildings swept back into existence. Time flowed back a few more decades.
Then it happened again.
And again.
Each time the mushrooms shrank, the insects grew in number.
Time rolled backwards, and the roaches marched along with it. I watched the faces around me, and smelled the changes in the air. I knew the Time was coming.
The world played forward again.
I scanned the sky for the first of two passenger jets. It wasn't long before it appeared, flying low, much too low, on the horizon.
The Towers fell.
They rose again, sucked back from blood, rubble, and fire.
The army of insects carried me through the East River as the years peeled away. We marched back onto dry land, and into Queens.
They led me to a tiny office, a diorama inside of a shoebox. A calendar, drawn on the wall in crayon, marked the year as 1968. A G.I. Joe action figure, wearing a hard hat and holding a tiny jackhammer in his Kung Fu Grip, sat behind a desk.
A headless Barbie doll entered the office, résumé in hand. The stream of roaches marched backwards into her neck, and down her body. She became bloated with them, her body expanding, but never bursting. I could see the insects pushing out against it, making her plastic skin thinner every second, crawling over one another, seething just below her malleable flesh, and I screamed and screamed.

I let the same nightmare torture me for three nights. Then I went to see her.

"Who are you?" asked the woman behind the desk. I told her my name, and whom I was there to visit. I expected some sort of indignation, at least a narrowing of the eyes. Pop was the only one who ever visited her, and he had been dead for a year. But the nurse just shrugged, and pointed me towards the day room.




Tony LaRocca is a carbon-based life form, animator, occasional actor, U.S. Army veteran, blogger, karaoke crooner, electrician, and chronic doodler from Basking Ridge, New Jersey. He currently resides with his family in Queens, New York.

Pre-programmed nightmares, ravenous alien insects and the idols they worship, a clockwork monster seeking redemption, reality twisting cyborgs, a noir priest fighting both the forces of good and evil, moon-stranded robots striving to be called human, a brave woman fighting for the departed soul of her beloved Labrador, true love and hate to the gluttonous death, dejected ghosts striving to reshape the past, and an army of demonic chickens. Eleven short stories of science fiction, fantasy, humor, and horror which you will never forget.

Falling, seemed to take forever. Strange, the building didn't appear so tall when i walked up it, I should have hit the floor by now. I open my eye's and... There's someone floating next to me. Long black hair cascades down her shoulders, dazzling red eyes could be seen as they slowly flicker open.
"H-hi, um... If you don't mind, could you let me resume falling?"
"No, at least not yet. I've waited long enough, it's time you awaken, I must assess your specifications. First what class?"
*Void Knight
*Astral consumer
* Natures incarnate
*Blank's page of the lost
What, is this real? Haha..hahaha it's really here. And these classes sound awesome, but one of these thing's, is different. It sounds more like an item-
"Your choice has been confirmed 'Blank's page of the lost'. Now moving on-"
" Wait, just like that, why.. I hadn't chosen yet."
"You have, perhaps not consciously, but you would have arrived at this result all the same. Now your starting point shall be a a town within kingdom Blossom Pearl. Status.. Matriarchy, specializing in strength, known to be a knights dream. Some anomaly has led to the females possessing enhanced strength and fighting capabilities. Most matters are therefore settled with fights. You may now resume your fall."
"Hold on, can I perchance skip the fall and bone cracking death?"
"Request has been confirmed, you can skip the bone cracking death."
"Thank you-"
She then pulled out a sword, and stabbed me through, I'm assuming, my heart, and darkness followed swiftly afterwards. As my sight faded to black I could only think 'So I still had to die huh.'

My mind started to clear as I was enveloped in a warmth that surrounded me, muffled voices flowing past.
Tired, so tired...I once again fell into slumber.
I awoke to the sounds of crying, my crying...Why was I crying, and why was everything so bright, I attempt to cover my eyes, but my arms held no strenght. It didn't help that I was covered tightly in something.
"I'm sorry to tell you this ma-am. But it's a boy. And the latent talent seems to be so low, it is not even reacting with our testors. What would you like to do?" A stern female voice resounded through my ears, it appeared I was not welcome here. The fisrt thing I thought was 'feminists?' before shaking the thought away. There's no way they had gotten so radical. I mean, surely they retained some common sense, right?
"I should have know, it's father was no different... a disappointment all the same. Send it off to the orphanage. Royal blood does not flow through this things vains, do not use my name, nor leave any insignia showing it belongs to the house of flowing swords. My successor will come in time, I am in no rush nor do I fancy to sire unfit canadates.
"Understood, madam sworfine, take care."
And with that, I was wisked away. Placed in a basket, and left at a door step.
My luck with girls seems to have stayed the same, even after death. Women in this world are a bit more blunt about it. Yet, Flowing swords sounds pretty cool, it's a shame I don't have the talent-"
"Oh quite the contrary, your talent knows no limit, of course their devices are incabable of picking that up."
That voice sounded familiar...wait wasn't that.. heart stabber?
"That's quite a rude name, seeing as you asked to skip the fall. But none the less, it is in fact me, the person who, so generously, allowed you a painless death. My name is sophia, an observer. I shall accompany you through your travels."
"O-oh. ok, thank you for your... generosity... You said limitless talent right, that sounds pretty sweet."
"Yes, and in fact you have gotten pretty lucky, unimaginably lucky, as your starting class 'Blank's page of the lost' has a certain effect that has turned that so called royal blood of yours into additional points, along with the already competitively large amount of points you get for not having a restricted class. Such as the void night, whos starting bonus is extremely high defense and attack power. Or Natures incarnate that starts with and etremely high affinity with nature type magic. Your starting bonus is a blank page, almost blank that is, as you can see, it is also a page of the lost, allowing you an uncanny affinity with illusory arts. Honestly that page has probably tricked gods before. Anyways, you shall start with an exceptionaly large amount of points to distribute as you see fit. Which another part of you unbelievable luck was that someone else didn't choose that class first, I can't blame them though, as the choices they had were truly tempting, as gods love to do, tempt mortals to willingly jump into the pits of despair... ."
"T-there are others, with classes? And what's with the gods? what do you mean love tempting mortals? This is a lot to take in."
"Curse my tendency to ramble, consider this a gift, most shouldn't have this information-"
The sound of a page turning could be heard, something is definitely off, was it her statement? I feel like if a child was clearly lying to an adult about the sky being red. Why?
"  -but yes, Your reincarnation is none other than entertainment for those gods."
"It's a little off topic but, can you read my thoughts?"
"...Could read that is, it seems that page of the lost is clouding the connection, I can't get anything now that you mention it."
Something seems off. I feel like this is unnerving her, as if something wasn't right, in fact she seems almost...scared.
"huh, is there something wrong? Is the page cursed or something?"
"Well, I wouldn't say cursed, but it's often not a choice most get. As this page is extremely illusive, it's not something that can be given out."
Someone had finally opened the door, it was a surprisingly a guy, he has a kind smile, and he seemed massive, barely fitting in the door way.
"Another one huh? When did us guys become so hated, it's alright little fella, welcome to The Haven, my home, as well as home to lots of little guys, now including you. I'll do my best to give you a chance in this place, but it's up to you if you can reach it."
He picked up the basket and carried it inside. Lots of little faces surrounded us, curious to the new member of the family.

Transferred to another world, in which our protagonist 'Alex' must compete in a game where the objective is to conquer the fantasy like world. Given an ability that was generated from the 'wheel of salvation.' Basically a story made because I as a reader enjoy these kinda stories and I hope you do as well.

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