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Rose and Rosaline

Rose and Rosaline were beautiful twin sisters. Both with gorgeous curly red hair, green eyes and the slender bodies of ballerinas. They had taken ballet in their early teens, but life had chosen for them a different career path. At the moment, they were busy pretending to the journalism people. The tail of their helicopter had just been shot. It spun dived into the ocean, with only the twins surviving. They swam to shore were they stripped down to pretend to beach people. After walking for a couple of miles, they run into a strange commune. The commune was filled with lovely ladies working in the fields, producing beautiful flowers. One of the few men in the community noticed the twins in their undies.

After this basic, manly observations his eyes noticed the cuts and bruises. He asked in his native dialect, “What happened to you girls? Do you need some help?”

It was Rosaline who answered, “We are fine, only a little bit shaken for wear. We went out swimming and the riff tide nearly got us, and then the ground is so hard, with the stones and large pieces of corals.”

“You are not from around here aren’t you,” said the man coming closer.

One of the ladies from the commune narrowed her eyes, and said to him, “Go and get them a towel.”

The man pouting said, “You are no fun.”

“We get tourists from the capital from time to time,” said the lady, “They do not know that there is a reason why we do not swim in this particular ocean. There are the currents, and large waves, and the storms from time to time break large pieces of corals that wash up on the shore, becoming the occasional prickly hazards. No! Girls, it is not safe to swim in this ocean.”

“Well, we had to learn this lesson sometime,” said Rose shivering and rubbing her shoulders.

A different lady laughing said, “And then there is that too.”

“What happened to your clothing,” asked an elderly maiden.

“Some pervert probably stole them,” said Rose, “They were not there when we got out.”

“They could have at least left the towels,” commented Rosaline.

The girls eventually got their towels and they settled in the commune for a month while they recovered from their wounds. Since they had no money on them, they had to work for two more months in order to afford tickets to leave the country by plane. When they got to the airport, they gave their fake names. The clerk looking at them and their fake passports said that the girls were in the no fly list.

This was the start of the twins prolonged stay in enemy territory. While they worked as ballerinas, they from time to time would smuggled letters to the outside world. The main issue was that regardless of whatever point of exit they tried, they were banned from leaving. The reason behind this became apparent during the sixth month of their stay. They had found work and lodging in a humble ballet company. They were putting their high school training to good use. It had been almost four years since the sisters had last danced, but their muscles and reflexes were strong, due to habitual training. One day, a military man started coming to see them perform. Upon closer inspection, the sisters recognized the man they had first met back in the commune.

Two years passed, and the leader of the country dies under mysterious circumstances. The sisters take this chance to try to get out of the country. In the airport, the same scene repeats. This time Rosa tells the attendant, “Look, I know you got your orders, but with your leader dead, there might be some restructuring, and you do not want to be on the losing end, do you?! We have reasons to fly, reasons, that are top secret. Now, let us on that plane!”

After much coercion and threats, the flight attendant reluctantly allowed the sisters to enter. Once the plane landed in their home country, the twins were finally able to give a sigh of relief. Two years passed, and the twins were out on a date. They were in the manor of a rich fellow. He had seen the sisters in one of their ballets performances, and under the pretest of sponsoring their art he was pitching woo. He did not care which maiden he got. To him, there was no difference between Rose and Rosaline. If it was possible, he would have liked to have both girls. When the twins concluded their tour, they went with the man to jump out of a plane. The girls were itching to try their hands on the new and improved wingsuit. With the wind crashing against their faces, the sisters felt for the first time in a long time truly alive.

Poseidon and The Violin Girl

Hilda was a 16 year old vagabond. She moved from place to place, sometimes alone, at other times in the company of the gypsies or the circus people. She had black hair, amber eyes and honey color skin. Her only permanent companion was her violin. Hilda could not remember ever being without her companion. She earned her bread through her craft. While playing in the city, a handsome looking rich fellow came to her.

He had even teeth, blonde hair, and black eyes. Smiling to her he said, “I love you and your music. I am your biggest fan. I have heard you play in many different occasions. I want you to marry me, so you can have an easy life.”

Hilda had never been told proposed to by anyone. She took a better look at the gentleman before him. After rattling her memory a bit, she realized he was the prince from the local feudal. She had seen him a couple of times. Once when she was gathering berries in the forest, and another time as he was returning from the wars.

Instead of agreeing to marriage proposal, Hilda said, “I am charmed, but I need some time to think about it.”

“That is perfectly understandable. Come, meet me here again in about week, and then tell me your answer,” said the prince.

Hilda breathed in a sigh of relief as soon as the prince left. Some of the peasants who had seen the incident called her an idiot and a fool. In order to put her thoughts into order, Hilda left the city and went to the beach to think. As for the prince, he looked quite unperturbed till the moment he was alone in his room where he destroyed all the furniture.

While in the sea, Hilda started to play her music while walking through the shores. She stopped a moment when she heard a song. She listened to it a bit, and then she added her own violin to the mix. Eventually, a young siren rose to the surface to join her song. Close to sunset, Poseidon himself came to fetch his daughter. His initial annoyance faded away at the sound of such pleasant music.

He came to the shore and asked, “What is a lady like you doing in such a desolate beach?”

“I like to come here to think. Other than my violin, I do not have any confidant to tell my worries,” said Hilda.

“What seems to be the problem? As a Greek God, I don’t get prayed to as much as before, so I have a lot of free time. If anything, I can offer some advice as your elder,” said Poseidon.

“Well, the church says that any non-Christian God is a demon, and so I will tell you everything,” said Hilda.

“Hehe! This old demon story, if I had a nickel,” grumbled Poseidon more to himself beneath the waters.

Since he was still lingering, Hilda said, “Well, I was playing the other day, as before and then out of nowhere this rich guy I don’t even know asks me for marriage. And, I am not certain what I should do. I like the prospect of not having to work, ever, but I don’t even know this man.”

“Mmm,” said Poseidon, “I heard of a similar case like this before. You should go to the nearby fishing hamlet and visit the home of Victoria.”

Hilda did as she was told. She asked for lodging, and the peasant girl Victoria allowed her to stay. After conversing with her a bit, Victoria said to Hilda, “I have to step out a bit to check up on the nets. If we are lucky, I might be able to get some fish for our supper.”

Twenty minutes passed, and a rich looking gentleman entered the hut without knocking. Annoyed, Hilda asked, “Can I help you?”

The gentleman bowed, and said, “I am sorry miss, but I am looking for my wife Victoria. Have you seen her?”

“She went out for a bit, but she should be returning real soon,” said Hilda.

The man sat down to wait. There was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to last for an eternity. Hilda breathed in a sigh of relief when she heard the footsteps of Victoria. As soon as Victoria laid her eyes on her husband, she literally turned into an ogre. The same metamorphosis overcame the gentleman as well, as the pair tore at one another with harsh words. Scared, Hilda slipped away under the table and out the door.

This incident had helped Hilda come up with a decision. By the end of the week, she met up with the prince. She said to him, “Look, I barely know you, but you seem like a nice fellow so I am willing to give you a chance. Travel with me for a couple of months, as a peasant so I can get to know the real you.”

The prince already boiling turned into an imp. Yelling, he said, “What are you an idiot! What sort of a fool would put such conditions on any prince! I am your ruler, I am your better! I have killed many people for less. It is time that you learned your place woman!”

The prince was about to slap Hilda when a Trident speared the enraged imp. The entire incident was the talk of the city. Hilda left the city, since people were starting to call her a witch. Back on the seashore, Hilda said to Poseidon, “Thank you for all your help.”

“It was nothing little girl. It has been centuries since humans have taken my Godhood seriously,” said Poseidon returning to the ocean.

The Climb

As long as Eric could remember, he had been suffering from the same recurrent dream. It was part of the reason why he did not live near the beach, even though he could. Whenever he went on vacation, he always made certain to stay in a hotel that was at least six stories tall. Eric could not remember when this fixation or night terror began. For as long as he could remember, the same dream would haunt him. There were some variations here and there, but the overall theme was the same. A tsunami would come and he would drown, along with his family. This would always occur while indoors. He would look out the window and then a wave would enter and throw water and debris.

Eric was not afraid of drowning. He knew from experience that it was not the most unpleasant sensation. Still, what he did dread was not knowing. He felt there was a sword of Damocles hanging over his head. Any minute, at any moment it would fall. The sword did fall over Eric, but not in the way he had expected.

At the age of 37, he had burned out. Following the advice from his psychologist, he decided to take a prolonged vacation with his family. Together with his wife, his teenage son, his mother and his sister he had decided to visit Tahiti. More specifically, he went to Teahupo'o city. Over the course of decades, the small village had developed under the backbone of its amassing surfs. Despite his recurrent dreams Eric quite enjoyed surfing. The adrenaline and focus the sport required was enough to make him forget all his worries. Even the nightmares seemed to occur less whenever he was chilling by the coast.

On his second week of vacation, Eric was surfing as usual when a douche bumped into him. The strength of the other person’s surfboard knocked him into the water. It took 20 minutes to rescue him from the water. When he awoke, he is inside his room. His mother holding his hand tells him, “You suffered a small injury son.”

Eric made a motion to stand, but his ribs felt like they were on fire. Still somewhat agitated and disoriented, Eric rose from his bed. His mother got up and went to fetch the doctor who was in the other room. Slowly, Eric made his way towards the window. With each step he gave, he felt himself closer to his destiny. The moment he laid his eyes on the window he saw it. The wave crashed against the window pushing him against the wall with all its fury. The wave was incredibly large, to have made it all the way up to the fourth floor. The door bent with the rushing water, and Eric mustering all his strength me made a motion to make it to the other room. When he found his family, all he could muster to say was “Climb!”

Together they made their way towards the stairs climbing ever higher and higher. Eventually they make it to the fifth floor. It was then when the hotel got taken out of its foundation. It tilted somewhat crashing into another larger structure. A hole in the wall opens, and Eric sees the exposed segment of a much taller, sturdier structure. He helps his mother, and his family up, before pulling himself up. All the while, he was keenly aware of the growing pain in his sides. While they walk in the new structure, the floor gives way below the feet of his sister. Frowning, Eric said, “I suppose we do not have time to carefully consider the matter. Let us hold hands, and run as if the devil were after us.”

“It sure seems that way, father,” said his son Clark.

While they ran, they take with their eyes bits and pieces of their surroundings. It seemed to be a type of laboratory of factory. More and more the water rises and they cannot seem to find a stair to take them higher. Eventually, they do find a small coiling escalator. Since Eric was the last in line, he fell down, with the stairs.

He tells his family, “Just keep climbing up. I am going to find another route.”

While looking about, he sees a frightened local maiden. He recognized her as Pania, the manager of the hotel. Like a frightened bird, she clung to the first familiar face. Pushing her aside, he said, “I am still injured. Remember?”

Together, they swam through the murky waters, as the ceiling slowly got closer. After 30 minutes of searching, they found a door with a stairs symbol. The only problem was opening it. Eric starts pounding and pushing at the door. Still, the water pressure made opening the door a difficult task. Before running out of air, the door opens and a steely cold hand grabs Eric, before helping Pania to the other side.

After climbing up a couple of steps, Eric takes a look back to see who had helped him. He was greeted by two pairs of large, artificial eyes colored pink. The face was designed to be resembled an anime maiden, with the small nose and mouth. The hair was white on the top, and blue bellow. The body was jointed like a doll, and the clothing was in rags due to the wear and tear.

The robot said to Eric, “Do you require some assistance?”

How or why there was a robot in Tahiti was a matter not worth thinking about. Eric made a motion to give another step, but his legs finally failed him. Not waiting for an answer, the robot maiden placed Eric over her shoulder and started climbing up. Pania followed behind. The alternative route brought Eric to a computer room, with an elevated control panel. He was sat in a large chair. Before him, there were windows that overlooked something that resembled another facility. There was a large number of people in lab coats floating upside down. Eric naturally assumed they had drowned.

The robot maiden pressed some buttons and this room was further elevated, till they reached the seventh story. Over there, Eric met up with his family and a group of other survivors. After half an hour of waiting, a person was heard yelling for survivors. He was driving a boat, looking about the ruined buildings. Eric boarded it, with the help of the robot maiden and the other survivors. Eric chuckled wearily, as he recognized the face of the surfer who had injured him just a few hours ago.

Dog Head

I never met my uncle Juanci, but I heard plenty about him. It was common knowledge, that Jaunci was a taxidermist. His little hobby of stuffing animals was a tad too annoying for his current wife. One day, she left him. She was fed up of his army of dogs. Juanci one day started collecting and feeding whatever stray he ran into. The dogs would follow him without a leash all throughout the neighborhood. He was subject of both admiration and ridicule, but nobody was ever brave enough to critique him. One day, or another he noticed that one of his dogs was missing. From time to time, his strays would go to the street to roam.

After two days of not seeing this particular cur return, Jaunci  decided to go looking for it. Eventually, he heard a fellow say to him, “You are looking for one of your dogs?”

“More or less,” said Juanci.

“There is one that got inside my empty silo. I think you should get it out, cause it seems rabid, and it is your responsibility,” said the farmer.

Juanci nodded and returned home. When he came back, he had a club. The farmer said nothing. Together, they went to face the rabid beast. Logic would stipulate that Juanci should have brought a gun instead of a stick. Even a bow and arrow would have been a bit more useful. The main issue was the nature of the island he inhabited. Only the government was allowed to have guns, and they rarely took care of such petty nonsense. Many of the locals believed that the cops carried empty pistols because they have never seen any of them shoot it.

The long and short of it is that Juanci went to fight the beast with a club. According to the farmer, the battle took place in the dead of night, and it was raining too. One cannot have an epic fight to the death, without a bit of rain. The weather circumstances do not matter too much. Jaunci won, after clubbing the dog to death. As far as mercy killing went, he was not a good practitioner of the craft. It was not enough to club the poor dog to death, it was what he did with the dog afterwards that was a cause for concern. Juanci took the carcass of the dog home. He then applied himself to preserving the head. When he completed this gruesome work, he mounted the head of the dog on a staff. From then on, he would roam about the town with the trophy dog head.

Uncle Juanci may have won the fight, but he lost the war. As mother told it, it was to be expected that the fellow got bitten in the battle. Rabies travels through the nerves, very slowly. It may take at most twenty years, but it will get you if you are not inoculated. Once it is too late, humans can expect to suffer agitation, combined with hallucination. Given enough time, a person slips into a coma and dies. It isn’t the prettiest way to kick the bucket. Whether this happened to Uncle Jaunci nobody knows. One day, he swore off humanity, and was never seen or heard from again.