Story notes : dystopian space, tw: mentions of blood and slight blood, violence, moderate language, gore.
This is a school assignment I made, and I had lots of classmates and teacher advice taken, and it's a part of my final for the creative writing class.
Also, here's some mentions to people i wish to share this with!
@lethalcontracts @adriftinthev0id @xdollydoodlesx @orbdotexe @celestelunisea16 @gizmocrate-werecrow
Story below the cut!
“Hello, I'm the boss of this [REDACTED] company, YOU are my newest assistant, YOUR job is to make sure the crews are mentally sane, YOU will activate the [REDACTED] protocol if a crew does not meet quota. And thank YOU for joining the monitor system…”
YOU sat down at a repurposed security desk and turned on all the monitors… and decided to read about the restricted rehired No-Fire crew captain, Intel.
[Intel’s Background
Year 1XXX. An asset named Intel yelled at her team to take off as she fended off the monsters who were trying to board the ship. The captain tossed her a stop sign for her self-defense.
And years pass on the moon… enough time to let her learn about things that no soul can ever dream, Intel learned how to kill anything.
As the years pass intel is eventually saved and rehired soon becoming a captain.
Her crew is named Team No-Fire made up of Intel, Socks, Rookie, and Intern.]
YOU tuck the file away and start monitoring the screens.
‘This has been a cycle for everyone’s lives. Just eat, ship to moons, collect scrap, kill aliens, get home, get paycheck… repeat. Once someone joins, they can't leave till death, age, or too much information. Everyone is an asset. They don't care if you commit crimes or are insane; you are an asset and a tool to the company.’
Year 2387.
Intel parries a Jester’s lunge attack and shoves the jester back and swings her stop sign and digs the sharp metal into the Jester’s neck and exposed spine, blood spewing from the wound which made quite a mess… Intel starts violently stabbing the Jester’s shell with the sign pole and blood starts to pool the hall as the Jester is lifeless on the ground, and Intel wipes blood off her cracked visor, Intel looks at Rookie, “that's the third near death with Jester, Rooks… and it's a monday.” She helped Rookie up.
“Doesn't beat Socks’s however… she has the most encounters, what was it again?” Rookie asked. “98 encounters Rooks, 98, and that was last month.” Intel answered, collecting scrap.
“Still shocks me. Socks lied her way into the job…” Rookie sighs.
“Me too Rooks… me too.” Intel said with a disappointed voice. The two head back to the ship. Upon getting home and taking a break, along with paying respect to fallen people, the crew dumps off the scrap and “sleep”...
In the morning, Intel got up to get the paycheck.
“Here's the paycheck Intel” boss said as his visible clawed hand held out the check to Intel.
“Thanks boss, have a good day” Intel replied, taking the check and reading it over.
Later in the day Intel’s team washed off the blood from a fight that the youngest teammate, Socks, miraculously missed by taking the fire exit, that fight was scary… Intel didn't want Socks to die or get traumatized. Intel looks at her stop sign, the very sign that her old team tossed her as she sacrificed her life to save them… sad that they got fired… Intel yearned for freedom but she knew far too much for her freedom, she knew more than the boss himself…
The sleep pod alarm went off as Intel punched it to silence it and slid out of the pod in her black skinsuit as she grabs the space suit and slips it on, she bangs on the other pods to wake up the rest.
“Wake up bitches, we have work today… no slacking” Intel spoke in a tired voice.
“I’m up, I'm up, capt'n..” Intern kicked open the pod door while the others slowly got up and ready. Intel grabs a helmet and skips breakfast, boarding the ship assigned to her team..
Later, they arrive at a new moon that is worth ten times the normal runs they do. Intel rips the stop sign pole from a baboon hawk head as its thick viscous blood covers the pole.
“Fucking baboon hawks” Intel mutters under her breath…
“These robots are soooo BIG!” Socks squeals excitedly at the sight of giant robots.
“They look dangerous, Socks.” Rookie holds her small shoulder.
They all enter the building and get the scrap, ward off nutcrackers and brackens, and get back to the ship as giants crawled from the earth at the sight of a sunset.
“Time to go?” Intern asked. “Yeah lets get the fuck outta here” Intel answered dropping some scrap, and heading ‘home’.
Intel washes off her stop sign and suit off of any alien blood along with the others. They grab dinner and climb into their pods. Intel stays awake, dreaming her hopeless dream.
End. . . ? no… there is never an ending in the company… It's just a million stories and a million lives lost out in space.
Lore | Lethal Company Wiki | Fandom
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So, the funniest not funny thing that I've run into this week is that some guy tried to commit suicide by cop at my facility. He just parked in front of the gate and pressed random codes in until the system locked everything down. We were actually pretty freaked out about it until the security forces came back from the gate and told us about it while laughing.
So, first thing to note about the security forces on site is that their normal job is getting on quads with AR-15's loaded with blanks and chasing the deer off site. This is for the deer's welfare (we do not want deer wandering into the microwave testing area) and for ours (we do not want anything to disturb the asbestos pit while we are downwind). These are goofy, cheerful 19 year olds. They have the coolest job in the entire world. They didn't even realize that this could be a real threat, they assumed it was just some dumbass trying to walk in by spam pressing the buttons hoping they'll work. (Button spamming is a surprisingly effective strategy, I am not going to tell you how many codes around the base are just the same four numbers over and over.)
Anyway, security arrived at the gate to ask the guy to stop and go away, and the guy took the time to announce that he hated the US military and was a member of ISIS.
The first part is not a big deal, the second part was. The security forces, bless them, decided that this seemed unlikely, but worth testing, so they asked the guy a simple question: Could he say literally anything in Arabic?
And the guy say, "Allah."
The security forces were like okay, fair, we set the bar pretty low. Can you say anything else, and the guy literally couldn't. Not even dumb shit like "Kebab." He just kept yelling that he was a real goddamn member of ISIS and demanding that they shoot him. They tried to convince him to move his car, and he said that he was going to refuse to until they shot him, and they were like "What if you moved your car, and then we shot you? In case you can't move your car after being shot," and the guy refused. He then threw rocks over the fence until the security forces backed up like another 20 feet, and told him that everyone there was paid hourly. Then he left.
So. You know. Stressful, in the sense that having someone who is dangerously unwell show up at your job and try to provoke violence is stressful. But also funny, in the way that the 19 year old dorks tried to reason with this guy, and the failed bluff check that was their attempt at getting him to move his car. And then him driving off him a huff when he realized that getting paid to do nothing isn't nearly as annoying as he hoped it was.
(Security said they got his license when he turned around and passed it on to the police. I have no idea what happened after that, but I can guarantee you that the police will have handled things with less grace and tact than those 19 year olds on their quads.)
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You don't understand. I am so in love with you. I need you.
I've cried until my eyes burned and my throat was raw, at the thought of you not being mine, and at the reality that you have no idea how far my infatuation goes. Not even an acknowledgement of the fact. You're just that oblivious, which rides between the lines of being sweetly endearing and frustratingly maddening.
I know society wouldn't approve of it. I know the others would be horrified if they knew, if they found any evidence that pointed to what happened. They'd worry for you. Ridiculous. Only I can worry for you. And I already know, this was the only way. This had to happen. I would've cried harder if it hadn't, I can't imagine it having ended any other way. You don't understand how much I needed it.
We HAD to be together! We were made to be! Why couldn't you notice that sooner?!
I didn't just want to be by your side like a delicate accessory. I didn't just want to spend time with you in the way lovers do on a warm summer night. My love goes deeper, so much deeper, I needed more. You wouldn't have understood.
It was fun, the weeks I had you confined to our own private paradise. Locked away for safekeeping, so you wouldn't escape. But it was torturous to myself, even: keeping myself on edge, denying myself what I truly wanted to do to you. I won't forget how lovely your scared-yet-sensual screams were, the marks I made on your skin; gentle bruises and bloody scars that, I'm sure must've hurt, but nowhere near how much my heart had been hurting for your love.
My heart was racing, my vision blurry, my tongue ached, and I could never not drool from thinking about it. I dreamed of it since Day One, as wrong as most people would presume it was. I've always known my love wasn't content at staying harmless, I knew my love would grow to be more violent. And I knew what I had to do: I had to eat you. Not just in the sexual way, the literal way. I wouldn't—couldn't—be happy until I was chewing on chunks of your soft flesh. Until I spilled your warm blood on my bare body, exciting me and stirring something within. Until I was stripping the skin, peeling it away from tendons and bones, touching your interior as gently as I had your exterior.
So I did, on one particular evening. You poor thing, you had no idea what was coming. I took my time, because it's rude to wildly gobble everything up in one sitting like a starving animal. It took several days, but I did it. I ate every last trace of you left, cutting up your body carefully. Measuring the serving sizes of your corpse, though I did treat myself to a bit more than usual on some days—I just couldn't help myself. The taste, the flavor...
Now there's people wondering where you've gone. It's unusual, it's unlike you, they say. I can only smile innocently and say I know nothing when they ask. They're the ones who don't need to know anything. Why does it matter to them? You're fully mine now, I've made sure of it. You'll never be anyone else's. Ever.
I still sigh happily when I think of it. You have no idea how happy this has made me. You wouldn't have understood. ♥
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