Categories
Random Stories

Powers

**This story was written for the following prompt: “You have a useless superpower where you gain a random power each day that prepares you for the events stored in the day. Why this is useless? They’re all subtle, like summoning an extra toilet roll. Then, one day, you wake up with eldritch, god-like powers.”**

When I woke up, the door almost smacked me in the face.

I opened my eyes to be an inch away from my bedroom door, which was usually a few steps away. I blinked. Suddenly, the door was about a step away. I raised an eyebrow. Okay, zoom-eyes today. I blinked a few more times before I saw the familiar distance.

That was weird. My powers don’t usually matter much. This was a useful power. I never had a useful power.

I dismissed it. Maybe I needed it today.

I brushed my teeth, took a shower and dressed myself. I disconnected my phone from the charger. It turned on as the cord left the socket. There was a calendar notification: “education thing today – dress well!: 11:00 Today.”

“Ohh.” I said. The zoom-eyes suddenly made sense. The President was coming to the University today. He was an alumnus. He was making a speech. I’ve got zoom-eyes to get a better look at him.

I packed my good suit.

A briefcase in my hand, I walked out of my house, over to my car. On my way out, I saw my neighbour. I nodded in his direction, and he smiled back. “Wow, what a weirdo.” he said.

I stopped dead. “Excuse me?” I said, turning around.
“What?” he said.
“What do you mean, ‘what’?”
“Jack, are you OK?” he said, very closely followed by, “What. A. Weirdo.” The weird thing was, his lips didn’t move with his second statement.

I frowned. Then my eyes widened. Telepathy.

“I didn’t say anything.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and quickly got into my car.
“That guy’s a damn quack.” he thought, as I peeled away in my car.

Zoom-eyes and telepathy. Two in a day. And two actual powers today!

But what did that mean? I always, always used my powers. Not like this, with the door almost smacking me, and my neighbour calling me a weirdo. But in actual life, when I needed the powers the most. When there’s no toilet paper in the toilet, I make it out of thin air. When I need to check papers, I have super-fast writing. What the hell would I need telepathy for?

I got to the University, went to my office, and checked the time-table. I had to teach a lecture until 10:30. Then, the President. I nodded to myself, and walked to the class. It was a flight of stairs, a long corridor and another flight of stairs away.

It wasn’t a great lecture. It was the noisiest class I’ve ever had to teach. I heard bored students and preoccupied children. I couldn’t concentrate. The disturbance went from annoying to enraging. The rage kept building up inside me for no reason whatsoever. In my rage, I threw a whiteboard marker across the room at a student. As soon as it left my hand, I realized what I’d done. Come back.

In mid-air, the pen turned and flew back at me. I caught it as if it had come and landed in my hand. My brain acted before it could comprehend what just happened, and the student started. It had looked like I just aimed the pen at the dude’s head, and not actually thrown it. But I definitely saw it go towards him, and turn back.

That was a new power.

That was almost telekinesis.

My heart was beating. There’s no way I could go on teaching the class. I checked the clock. 10:25. “Ok, class dismissed!” I said, and slammed my briefcase shut. I stormed out of the class and headed right back for my office.

The door to my office slammed into my face.

What the hell?!

I looked back. I looked around. I was in my office. Only a second ago, I was in the class. The class was far away.

My eyes widened as I realized what had happened.

Not three powers. Four.

I had superspeed, too.

This had to be connected to the President somehow. He was coming here. There’s no way my having four such high-level powers in one day, let alone one. I checked the clock. 10:27. Preparations for the president would start any time now. I just had to check one thing.

Inside my office, I looked at a pen in my pen-stand. I stuck out my hand. Almost immediately, the pen flew into my hand.

Telekinesis.

Telekinesis, telepathy, superspeed, and zoom-eyes.

I always used every one of my powers.

There was only one explanation to all this.

The President of the United States was going to be assassinated today.

And I’m the only one who can stop it.

Categories
Random Stories

Traffic Signals

Naresh hit the breaks to his cycle. The traffic signal blared a brilliant red, making most cars around him stop. He drummed his hands on the handles and hummed, when he was interrupted by a honk.

Naresh rolled his eyes. The signal was RED. RED means STOP. Didn’t this idiot go to pre-shcool? He turned around. “Hey, kid,” said the guy on the motorcycle behind him. It was a sleek black Harley-Davidson. “Go on, will ya?”

Naresh sighed. “Sorry, sir, but the signal’s red.”

The motorcyclist became angry. “What did you say to me? Who cares about some stupid light on some stupid pole? D’you see any police?”

It was Naresh’s turn to be angry. Who did this guy think he was? How did the rules not apply to him? Prick.

Sorry, sir, but you have to be patient. Other people also need to get somewhere.”

Did you just tell me to stay patient? Do you even know who the hell you’re talking to? Know your place, boy. Learn it before I make a dent in your tiny little face!”

Naresh turned his back to the colossal jerk. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need obnoxious butts to tell him about ‘his place’. He didn’t need-

He was pulled off the cycle and thrown onto the hood of a car. “Crap-nosed little-” began the motorcyclist as he raised his fist. It came down in a wide arc upon Naresh’s face, and blood flew in all directions. The fist went up again. “DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!” roared the motorcyclist, bringing his hand down yet again. Naresh braced himself for impact. He closed his eyes and screamed. But the blow never came. He looked up to see that someone had held his assailant back. “Are you out of your mind?!” cried his saviour. “That’s a kid you’re beating up!”

Get off me, you prick!” snarled the motorcyclist. “Get back here, you pinprick!”

Naresh slid off the hood and ran in the opposite direction. He could hear the anger-ridden screams of the motorcyclist, as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He felt a pair of hands grab him and push him to the ground. Then, once again, the fist came down. This time, it hit its mark. Another shower of blood followed.

Naresh was dazed. He couldn’t feel anything. He was vaguely aware of being carried away. He saw the outlines of a car, as the driver asked him questions in a muffled voice. The last thing he saw was the green of a traffic signal.

Categories
Random Stories

The Riots

The school bus rattled along the busy street. It was an especially quiet day. Laxman stared out of the window at the pavement on the other side of the street.

A little too late, Laxman noticed a brick flying right at him. “GET DOWN!” Laxman cried, ducking. The brick sailed into the bus, shattering against a girl, who passed out cold, and everything exploded into chaos.

Every car around the bus stopped. People came out with guns ablaze. The bus driver got up. “EVERYBODY SIT DOWN!” he bellowed, shooting his pistol at the ceiling of the bus.

The bus became quiet, but from outside, gunshots assaulted Laxman’s ears. The bus conductor was shooting anyone who tried to get into the bus. Laxman got in his seat and looked outside the window. What he saw scarred him for life.

The street was painted in blood. People were getting riddled with bullets. Every bullet that entered a person’s body erupted in blood, as it splattered the street with red. The worst was when it entered their heads. The head shattered, pieces of skull and brain flying in every direction.

A man ran at the bus. The driver aimed his pistol and fired. The man exploded right outside Laxman’s window. Blood splashed on Laxman’s face. He screamed, trying to wipe it off, but it only became worse. “Shut up!” yelled the driver, his weapon pointed at his forehead. Laxman’s blood froze.

“I-I-I’m sorry, I-” he whimpered.
“Shut the hell up NOW!”
“I’m s-s-sorry-” Laxman began to cry.
The driver yelled in frustration and fired.

Laxman saw the bullet soar through the air, cutting through his skin like butter. Every nerve erupted in pain. The last thing he remembered was the spark of light, as the world went black.

Categories
Random Stories

No, Wait!

“I’m sorry, Ashish,” sobbed Lata. It was the only way she was going to be free. She didn’t want to do it. She loved Ashish. He had always been nice to her. However, it was the only way she would escape. She had to do it. She raised the gun and put her hand on the safety, exactly how she was told to do it. It shook in her hand, as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I have to…”

The gun cocked. Ashish heard the sound as if nails on a chalkboard, gnawing through his ears and brain, signaling his doom. His hands shot up as he cried, “No, Lata, wait!”

It was too late. Lata pulled the trigger, and the gunshot rang through the room they were in. The flash of light occupying every inch of darkness around them. Ashish saw the tiny blob of metal soaring towards him from the nozzle of the gun. He saw the other part of it, fly out of the back end of the gun as the gun recoiled and the sparks dissipated. The bullet flew at him and it entered his head. Everything exploded in pain. It ran through all parts of his body, his arteries and veins exploding in each part of his body, as his brain took a one-way ticket to hell. His body exploded in chaos, and his neck cracked as the force of the bullet knocked him back and he fell backwards. The bullet left his head and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. An explosion of blood came next as everything in his head flew into the wall behind him. He hadn’t even had time to scream. Except, the sentence he had started died in his mouth as his entire body jerked with the pain of losing the only thing that kept him going – his brain. Nothing his skull could do could stop his entire body from going into the deep abyss of chaos. His body hit the ground and everything stopped working. A second later the gun fell to the ground, and Lata ran out, sobbing her heart out.

Categories
History Random Stories

Inquilab Zindabaad

Devanand held his father’s hand tightly. He was determined to rid his country of the Britishers. He hated them from the bottom of his heart. Just who did they think they were? When his father read him the latest news, Devanand would start screaming and shouting. “I’ll kill them,” he’d say, tears forming in his eyes. “I’ll kill them all. One by one. I’ll choke them all to death.”
His father would then look at him sternly. “Remember what Bapu said?” Jeetendra would say. “No violence, child. If we fight without violence, we will win for sure.”
“How can we fight if we can’t hit each other?” Devanand asked.
Jeetendra thought for a moment. Should he take him? Was it safe? “You know what, child? If I’m not mistaken, there’s a non-violent fight happening at the Bagh today. Want to go?”
And so, here he was, standing at the entrance to his first peaceful meeting. He had heard of the circumstances that led to this meeting – the arrest of Dr Satya Pal. His father looked down at him and smiled. “This,” he said, “is how to fight without hitting each other.” and together, they walked into the Jallianwala Bagh.

After a good number of people had assembled, an old man climbed onto a platform created around a tree. He raised a hand, and after a few moments silence filled the Bagh. “Indians! Brothers, sisters! We are gathered here, as you all know, to protest against the inhuman treatment of our leaders by the hands of our rulers. It is really getting out of hand, and now, we of Amritsar must act on the words of Bapu. We must fight for our leaders! Say it with me! Inquilab Zinda-”

There was suddenly a loud bang that resonated throughout the Bagh, and the old man was thrown against the tree, where he slumped to the ground, his eyes in utter shock, and his face red with blood. That’s when the peaceful protesters that assembled at the Jallianwala Bagh heard the rest of the bangs. There were yells of pain and shouts of alarm. The protesters ran for their lives, hiding behind the tree, scurrying to find exits, but there was only one, and General Dyer and his men had covered it. They were shooting mercilessly at the Indians, killing everyone. Devanand clung to his father’s side as Jeetendra dashed through the people. Understanding that there was no escape, he faced the truth. He looked into the frightened eyes of his son, seeing a wet patch on his face and his crotch. “Listen to me, Dev.” he said, “I want you to yell with me, O.K.?” He then looked up at the army of white-clad, inhuman, merciless, unloving machines. He looked straight at them and caught one soldier’s eye. “INQUILAB ZINDABAAD!” He yelled as he saw the flash of light. He let go of his son as a sharp pain flashed through his body for a full second, and then crashed to the ground.

Devanand yelled, “INQUILAB ZINDABAAD!” and heard the flash that killed his father. As his father fell to the ground, he realized the truth and stopped crying. He looked into the open eyes of his dead father amidst shouts of “Inquilab zindabaad” and stood up amidst all the gun fire as a man fell to the ground next to him, and blood splashed over his face. He just stood there, waiting to see if they had the audacity to kill a –

Devanand felt a sharp jolt of pain and fell to the ground as the bullet ripped through his skin, tearing any hope anyone had of the British being able to rule over the Indians. He fell to the ground with not only men, but women, and children too. All of India would grow to remember that day. The day of the final insult. The day of the Jallianwala Bagh massacre.

Categories
Random Stories

Ishita and Akshay

Ishita pedaled as hard as she could and as fast as she could. She had done a horrible thing, and she regretted it. Why did she succumb to the charm she distinctly remembered calling creepy? Why did she have to go and hold Manoj’s hand like that? What power in heaven decided that that should be the point where her boyfriend, Akshay walked into sight?

The weather had been wonderful on that winter night. She had seen the bouquet of roses fall from Akshay’s hand as her hand quickly retracted, and she shot straight up from the bench they’d been sitting on. Manoj hadn’t moved a muscle. He knew that Akshay was weak. A fight would have ended badly. Akshay, however, was smarter. He just gave a cold look into Ishita’s eyes and simply walked out, as if Manoj wasn’t even worth looking at.

Therefore, Ishita was cycling down the streets of Pune to get to Akshay’s house, three kilometers away. She was going dangerously fast, but she didn’t care. She knew that Akshay would not forgive her, but she would not let it go down in history that she had done such a thing and not felt sorry about it. She swerved through the cars like an expert and could have mastered the Tour de France easily. She noticed the turn for Akshay’s and a red street light. She decided that traffic rules could wait and turned. A loud honk filled her ears, and she felt a sharp pain throughout her body. After that, she saw nothing. She was vaguely aware of being taken somewhere with loud sirens … was that an ambulance?

The last thing she remembered was the multiple doctors standing around her for a very brief second, and then … darkness.

Categories
Random Stories

What Happened in Delhi

The messenger clambered into the silent court and found confused faces staring at him. He didn’t care. He had an important message. It had to be delivered. “All hail the mighty Emperor!” he cried, and fell to his knees. “Rise and speak, young one.” said the Emperor. “Thank you, my lord. The sepoys from Meerut have reached Delhi and seek refuge. They will soon fight against the foreigners. They would be forever indebted to you if you were so kind as to provide some extra troops.”

The Emperor turned to the mir bakshi. “Arrange for them to stay at the barracks. They will march into battle tomorrow morning with hundred of my men. Make it so.” he then turned to the messenger and asked, “Anything else?”

“Nothing, my Lord. I thank you for your time.”

With that, the messenger tore out of the court and left the Mughal Emperor in deep thought. Bahadur Shah sat, thinking of the best way to asses the situation. He knew that he needed his wife and children safe. Especially Bahadur Shah II. He was the heir to the Mughal throne. His ancestors would have never wanted the throne to fall to the unworthy hands of the British. Should he sit back and watch the sepoys hunt the British down, or should he join the fight? He had been hearing for a few days now, that many places were rising up in revolt of this foul power. The Rani of Jhansi was probably also planning something, seeing what had happened to her four years ago. What was the best thing to do?

Suddenly, the doors blasted open, the blood of the guards staining them. The guns cocked and shot. Chaos prevailed. The Britishers had come, and a massacre had unfolded. Blood splattered on every wall of the court. Bahadur Shah pulled his sword out, but he realized quickly how stupid it had been. “No!” yelled the leader of the brutes. “Don’t shoot him. Let him realize his treason.” But Bahadur Shah wasn’t going to come quietly. He threw a small knife across the room, which impaled one of the guards. A loud scream ensued. “Seize him!” cried the leader. The Emperor readied his sword. “Don’t kill him!” yelled the scum. He swung his sword, which collided with one of the guns. He jabbed at another guard, who blocked it. The guard whacked him with the butt of his gun. He was forced to his knees. The chaos had subsided. The Emperor was in the arms of filth. “Now,” said the leader, kneeling down to Bahadur Shah’s face. “I’m going to ask you one very simple question. And you’re going to answer it, or get everything you worked for taken from you, you understand?”
“I answer only to God.” hissed the Emperor.
“Where are the sepoys?”
The Emperor was silent.
“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Where are the traitors? If you don’t answer, you’ll be treated like one yourself. You want that? No? O.K., then. Where are the sepoys?”
The Emperor gathered up saliva in his mouth and dispatched it onto the leader’s face. One of the guards advanced and smashed the butt of the gun into Bahadur Shah’s stomach.

The Mughal let out a loud scream. “O.K.” said the Britisher, wiping the spit from his face. He turned to a guard after pointing at five. “Search the palace. Find any children in it and bring them here.” He turned to the Emperor. “Let me give you a little extra incentive.”

The Emperor cursed the Britisher loudly. The leader merely laughed. It was an evil laugh. The laugh of a demon.

Bahadur Shah had heard what the Britisher had said. They would find his sons. What would they do? He hated to think about it, but he couldn’t push it from his mind. He knew what was going to happen. Information for the life of his children. He knew he couldn’t betray his country – his motherland. But could he do that to his children? Could he betray his children against the country? Could he betray his country for his children?

In they came. “Get your hands off me!” yelled Bahadur Shah II. “Do you know who my father -”

He caught a glimpse of his mighty father, Britishers holding him down, a look of worry and surrendered defeat on his face. “F-f-father?” his second son had also seen it. The sons exchanged looks. Their strong-willed, big-hearted father had been subdued.

“Now, Bahadur.” said the British leader, “Tell me where the sepoys are, or your sons get it.”

Bahadur Shah’s mind was racing. He couldn’t just let them kill his sons, nor could he betray the sepoys. “Alright, then,” said the leader, “Mr. Anderson, shoot this one -” he pointed to the elder son, “on the count of two.”

The guard roughly pushed the elder son to the ground. Bahadur Shah II screamed and kicked, but he was no match for Anderson. “One.” said the leader. “No, please! Not him! Shoot me instead!” yelled the Emperor. The leader scratched his chin in mock consideration. “No,” he said, thoughtfully, “That wouldn’t be as much fun, now, would it?”
“Please!” yelled the Emperor.
“Where are the sepoys?”
The Emperor was desperately searching his minds for things to say.
“Two.”
Bahadur Shah II looked into the Emperor’s eyes, tears streaming through them. “Fa-Father?” said the boy in Persian, before a loud Bang! filled the court, and Bahadur Shah II crumpled to the ground.

There was a moment of complete silence. The Emperor was to shocked to say anything.

“Now are you willing to talk?” said the leader, kneeling in front of Bahadur Shah. “I’ll ask you once: where are the damn sepoys?”

The Emperor once again spit in the leader’s face. “I won’t even count, this time!” yelled the Britisher. He whirled around and shot the younger son square in the face.

Everything stopped. The Emperor didn’t remember anything after that, except waking up in prison, and spending the rest of his life in there. He didn’t remember being taken to prison. His world, as he knew it, had stopped.