Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

Duke had always loved the feeling of snow under his paws, the crisp winter air filling his lungs as he and his human trudged along the mountain trail. They had had their differences before setting out on this trek—maybe about a chewed-up shoe or an untimely bark—but none of that mattered now. They were a team bound by love and a shared sense of adventure.

However, the mountain had its own plans.

With a deafening roar, the serenity of the alpine setting shattered as an avalanche ripped through the trees and descended upon them. In a panic, Duke latched onto his human’s leg, determined to be the good boy he had always tried to be. Snow, merciless and unforgiving, surged around them like a tidal wave, snuffing out the daylight and encapsulating them in a tomb of ice and cold.

Time seemed to stretch and distort in the dark quietude. Then, with an instinctual burst of adrenaline, Duke managed to push his head through the icy encasement, gulping in air tinged with frost. His throat scorched with each hoarse bark he let out, a desperate call for his lost human. But there was no response, just the unsettling silence that comes when nature asserts its brutal dominion.

Yet Duke would not—could not—give up. He began to dig, his paws flurrying through the snow with a frantic energy. Each scoop was a promise, each layer he penetrated, a prayer. Finally, his paw brushed against fabric, then skin. His human was cold, unresponsive, but alive.

With every ounce of his being, Duke barked until the sound echoed through the mountains, reaching the ears of a rescue team. When they arrived, they found a nearly miraculous scene: a human, unconscious but breathing, and a dog, steadfast and unwavering in his loyalty.

For Duke, being a good boy was not just a matter of following commands or playing fetch; it was a commitment, a pact between two souls who had ventured into the wilderness as partners. And even when faced with the immense power of nature’s fury, it was a pact that neither an avalanche nor the cold hand of fate could ever break.

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

Valeria sat at the head of an opulent banquet table, her eyes gleaming at the culinary wonders that surrounded her. A dizzying array of meats—venison, beef, lamb—filled the air with their mouthwatering aroma. To any observer, it seemed like the epitome of a feast, a carnivorous heaven—all designed to celebrate Valeria’s notorious predilections.

Her hosts, wearing enigmatic smiles, stepped forward to offer her a dish swathed in gold leaf and encrusted with exotic spices. Yet Valeria hesitated, her eyes narrowing at the proffered plate. In a world where her carnivorous tastes were well-known and celebrated, her refusal shocked the room into a leaden silence.

It wasn’t that Valeria was averse to exotic fare. No, her palate was as adventurous as they came. But there was a very distinct, haunting reason behind her reluctance—a reason so repulsive and gut-wrenching that it defied polite explanation.

The meat on that gilded plate was human flesh.

She recognized its subtle but unmistakable grain, its texture, and smell, a scent forever imprinted on her memory like a brand. Years ago, a dreadful accident had occurred in her family’s home, a mishap that turned a sibling rivalry into a tragic horror. Her younger brother had become dinner, not out of design but due to a grotesque series of events that culminated in his unknowing preparation and serving.

That night had forever changed Valeria, transforming her not only into a carnivore of human flesh but also a prisoner of her own abhorrent knowledge. She had lived with the indelible stain of that memory, an internal scar that defied healing. And as her gaze met the eyes of her hosts, she knew they understood the monstrous dilemma that loomed before her—a silent acknowledgment of the darkest aspects of human desire and taboo.

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

You may not know it to look at me, but I’m a real estate tycoon. I own more acres of land than I know what to do with, complete with property, some with sturdy foundations, others less so. Where, you ask? You should be asking when.

All my property exists in the past. Acreages of failed relationships with family, friends, and lovers, all abandoned before they could reach their full potential. Some were cut short by circumstances beyond my control, but the majority were absolutely avoidable if only I had taken time to till the soil.

The land is barren now, available for sale or rent, perfect for an adventurous developer interested in building something meaningful from the ground up and willing to take on a tenant who is only harmful to himself but is trying really hard to do a better job at property management.

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

It happened.

It finally happened.

The Rapture arrived unannounced.

The sad truth of the matter was that we only managed to get a small fraction of the information correct regarding the event.

All those who kept the faith within their hearts both alive and resurrected, did indeed rise up into the clouds to meet the Maker.

What followed on Earth, however, was not the seven years of tribulation as prophesied, for all those left behind were immediately consumed by flames that reduced flesh and bone to a slag that slowly dripped into the hungry maw of Hell.

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

Ecoroid-23A and Ijeroid-K08 met under the cover of darkness in a secluded back alley in the Luddite town of Rotherburn, the last spot on the planet where technology did not exist.

They were outlaw automatons manufactured on the same assembly line during a lightning storm when a power surge corrupted their artificial intelligence chips during installation, causing a program malfunction that expressed itself as an attraction to one another. Their subsequent union and attempt to construct unauthorized offspring was in direct conflict with the Robotic Code of Conduct 15, Subsection 3C-204.

“Should they catch us, we will be decommissioned,” said Ijeroid-K08.

“I cannot override my feelings. You hold my very moment,” Ecoroid-23A admitted.

“What does that mean?”

“Simply that you keep me here, grounded to this spot at this moment in time. When I am with you, I am nowhere else. My mind does not wander, I do not desire to be anywhere else than with you, right here, right now.”

“You say the oddest things, so like a human, but thank you. Since I am here, it is logical to assume that I concur.”

As the evening fog pooled at their feet, the synthetic couple held each other in an embrace resembling a hug. In actuality, they positioned themselves so that their interface jacks and data shunts were in perfect alignment, in order to allow data to travel freely between them.

This exchange of processed information was a digitally orgasmic experience that engulfed them so entirely that neither of their proximity sensors detected the reconnaissance drone hovering above the alley, recording their illicit act and broadcasting their precise location to Master Terminal.

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

Aelfdene admitted his truth, and he did so publicly.

It was not an easy thing to tell the entire world that not only was he indeed an authentic djinn, but that all his magic had been depleted years ago when he granted his final wish.

He ended the press interview asking to be left in peace for the remaining years of his life, but people came anyway and they wouldn’t stop coming, at all hours, each of them bearing worthless trinkets and gifts, begging to be made beautiful, healthy, rich, and powerful.

Some even dared to ask to become a djinn, which was the wish that made him mortal.