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Jacob felt that old familiar tug as he stood atop the cliff, looking down into the clean, cool waters. He wanted to jump, to just feel that rush as the water flowed, engulfing him in it's soothing embrace. Every year, he made the pilgrimage here, and every year, he'd forced himself to jump.

Jacob wasn't getting any younger, and his hair was already thinning. At thirty-nine, he was quickly approaching the age where he'd have to discard his childish things and finally think about settling down. He'd never been one to plan too far ahead, living in the moment-Except for this. Each year, one week before his birthday, he'd make his way down here, and learn once again what real living is.

The cares of his regular life seemed to fade away as the sea air brushed lovingly against his skin. This was what things were really about. the just pure freedom, that lack of anything but the ocean. No cars, no meetings, no have-to-be-theres...just the calm rush of the waters lapping longingly at the bottom. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking it all in. He took the time here to just reflect on the past year, of everything that he'd done or not done, chances taken, silly luck and heart wrenching tragedies. Thankfully, this year had been uneventful. no changes in job, no real improvements in his love life or goals, but, no setbacks either. No, it was a pretty average year. He found peace in this, but had that little gnawing sensation in the back of his mind that he was missing out. He'd had opportunities to do things, to really live, but he'd chosen to skip them or just shied away from the chances altogether. Those were the nagging sensations that always gripped him, even in this, his most tranquil day in this most pristine location. He tried to shake them from his mind, to just enjoy the moment, but they'd already sunk their claws in, and soon his mind reeled of all the things he had just given up out of routine. "No, that's okay, I'll go next time"s and "We'll get together later"s. that permeated his life, in more ways than he'd ever realized.

Jacob opened his eyes again and sat , dangling his feet over the edge. the breeze was still playful and tickled the bottom of his feet.He took a few breaths and tried to clear his mind again. Why were things bothering him today so badly? he'd never had a single thought up here except for pure freedom. Maybe the time had finally gotten to him, and the simple momentary reflection had brought the wave crashing back of all the things in his life left undone.

There were just a few hours left of daylight. Jacob had been sitting on the edge for nearly half the day, just staring into the ocean and sky, wondering where he was going. This place held no more peace for him. He'd ruined the one place he'd ever felt that things would never be complicated. the cliff wasn't a symbol of his pent up exuberance anymore, the one place he'd really just let himself go. Now, it was his regret. the waters no longer soothing, but tendrils reaching for him to pull him into the darkness.
As the sun set, Jacob gathered his things and headed home, wondering what exactly the next day would hold.

Bands

I'd heard some amazing bands in my day, but man, these guys were the shit. I've never felt the kind of rush I felt when these guys played.
I mean, damn bro, they like, totally shredded my brain. I can't even remember what all went on last night, i just know that i have to see them again.
They got some of the most loyal fans, and i can see what the deal is. i , like, cant even start to tell you what they sounded like. it changed my life, man...

This wasn't the first time I'd heard this about this band. I've been following them all over the world, and each show, the aftermath, was filled with people like this. It's not that the fans were loyal, and, oddly, nobody could explain what kind or the sound of music that they played, but everyone agreed that once you heard them, your life would change. I had no doubt of this.
They never sold albums, and you couldn't find their music online. There wasn't, to my knowledge, a single recording of them anywhere, not even bootlegs. I've offered, and tried to get some recordings of them to no avail. The devices always turn out faulty and never pick up a single note.
I've not been to one of their concerts, before tonight. i finally got a ticket, from someone who wasn't able to go. I'd lucked out when i went to visit them at the hospital, and found a ticket in their pocket. they wouldn't be needing it anymore. oh, they weren't dying, but the were going to be out for a few days. Still, often, something like that wouldn't even stop someone who has a ticket. I know of at least a few cases where people who'd been in worse shape still demanded to go. There was a pull about the music that couldn't be denied. And tonight, i would finally get to hear it.

I wasn't worried too much. More excited than anything, really. I wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about, and finally I'd be able to go. Sadly, i was only able to get the one ticket,but still, I'd have a story I'm sure. If the music really was as good as i was told, then I'm sure the show was going to be something to remember.

I got ready early, knowing there's be traffic. I was one of the first people to arrive, hoping i could get a glimpse of the band, or , if extremely lucky, meet them. But, no such luck. they'd already been inside and setting up. I wasn't allowed in until ten minutes before the show, so I milled about with the rest of the fans. it was odd, though. they kept those who were newcomers away from those who'd already seen the show. I got around it though, and slid in with the vets. they didn't talk much, not as much as the excited new ones did. It was a little creepy, how they all just kind of stared at the door till they were herded in. they got seated first, and for some reason all their seats were towards the back. I guess the band wanted the newbies to get the best seats.

Triskaidekaphobia

Thirteen. There were always thirteen.
James had been running his whole life, running from the Thirteen.
He knew he wasn't crazy, that it wasn't some insane case of Triskaidekaphobia, but something was truly on his trail. He'd seen them once or twice, lurking in the dark recesses of his world.
he was alone, in this world of his own design, a perfect virtual playground made just gor his specific whims, and yet, it had been infiltrated by them.
There wasn't any access point, or any way someone could have possibly gotten into his system, and yet, there they were.
The few times he'd tried to confront them,they'd scurried away like roaches in the instant kitchen light.He never rally saw what they looked like, but they didn't seem entirely human. ut, he was tired of the chase, and tonight he was ready to face them. he'd set up the intricate traps while he was sure they weren't around. No flitting shadows, no looming shades.
"I was supposed to be safe here" he thought as he placed the twisted metal of the makeshift snare into the corners of his apparent. Well, the virtual representation in any case. He'd been spending so much time here that it wasn't even considered a different area anymore. it was his life, and he was happy to remain there. If only he could get rid of them.

Why couldn't he just have some peace? Why did things have to plague him even here.
This world-HIS world. he had to make it better again. but those things kept coming to get him. There were thirteen, he was sure of it. he'd counted one night when they got more aggressive, and lashed and gnawed at his body as he slept. He woke up to see them, looking up at him like pleading children, the one and only time he'd seen them clearly enough to know that he wasn;t in fact losing his mind. the screeched pitifully at him and vanished, but he was sure of the number. he'd even tried sketching them in the waking world at one point, but could never get them quite right.

And what a waking world it was. All the problems, the expectations, the pain that plagued him every single day, pressing down on him until he nearly broke in two. So, he'd used what money he could save, shirking some of his responsibilities, but if his dream would be a reality...
He had finally achieved it, after long years of fending off the demons that plagued him, and that first day inside his new utopia had been the most wondrous of his life. Free from everything, the bills, the pain, the people always hounding him, just free.
But then they started coming, seeping in. He now had nowhere to escape. He'd seen therapists, even psychics to try and get those things out. he was sure they were just inside his head, but the last few times, they'd been so real, so threatening. he hoped the traps would catch them, and let him finally get some answers...

Foreign

She had a long gait to her stride, a little shimmy in her hips that told me a lot of things in very little-but very intriguing- movements.
"You have some nerve asking me to come all the way out here."
She slid into the booth across from me, and with an unsmiling tone spat the words toward me in a thick foreign accent that i couldn't quite place.
"You better have good reasons."
I flicked the flint on my lighter and lit up a cigarette, eliciting several disdainful looks from those around me, but it was an outdoor cafe so they could just bite it. I flicked some ashes into the sad remains of my once proud burger and smirked, never making contact with those seductive eyes.
"I think I have something you might find interesting, some information about your precious dead husband's estate."
I reached into my coat and produced a manilla folder, one of the three I'd brought with me. The least damning goes first.
The envelope made a little shushing sound as i slid it over the table to her, as if asking the secrets it contained to be silent.
She didn't say much as her dainty fingernails undid the little metal catch and she slid out the three worn pieces of paper within. The edges flaked a little as she perused them with those eyes-those eyes-and i sipped the last of my melted ice from my soda.
"This can't be true. I refuse to believe it."
She threw the papers onto the table and stood up to leave.
"Hey, honey, i don't make up the stuff, i just bring it to the people that pay me."
I produced the second folder and tossed it onto the ground just behind her feet as she turned away. Should have dropped it a little ahead of her so i could get a glimpse of her well toned backside, but, eh, I'll be a gentleman today and settle for a look down her shirt as she bent over to retrieve it.
"What is this? More lies?"
I didn't reply, just sat back a little and waited for her reaction. I wasn't bringing out the big guns yet, but what I had in that one would surely get her to sit back down, and continue our conversation.
The way she slumped into her chair made me realize that the hook was in now. She looked at me in disbelief but realization slowly came over her face.
"It's true, isn't it? All those things that...no..i..it can't..."
Tears welled up in those eyes, but i didn't look up, still nursing the smoke from my cig.
"Hated for you to find out like this, but someone figured you needed to know."
I wasn't falling for this grieving widow show. I knew what kind of woman she was, and what she had really wanted from her husband. Oh, sure, people talked, pretty young thing with this fat old guy, this walking pustule but no, she was never after his money, or the fame the marriage brought her. Nobody knew her real intent, but me, and that had taken some heavy digging-sometimes literally.
She had a right to know, though, and that's what i called her here to do. tell her everything.
With a slow, steady hand, i slid her the third envelope...

Harpsichord

Anthony's heart trembled as he used the rusted crowbar to pry the nails out of the large shipping crate. The postmark had nearly been torn away by the elements. The only word that could be recognized from the sender was "England". The large wooden panels began to fall away as he continued his furious-near frantic- releasing of his prize.
it wasn't uncommon for a large box to arrive for him, but this one was special. Ancient runes and strips of warding wax coated the entire inner case. He grinned and pawed at them, pulling them off like a kid unwrapping Christmas presents. The wax was still warm, and small "piffft" sounds marked the breaking of the wards. It would only be a matter of time before his long wait bore fetid fruit. Those who'd tortured him, belittled his studies and insane attempt to contact the other world would all have their pathetic notions shattered once he unearthed his treasure, and mastered it's unknowable secrets.
He'd found it by accident, an estate sale by uninterested children. The old man's stuff was old and musty and boring and they were glad to be rid of it for whatever price anyone would pay. S, on that rainy September day he'd purchased a few trinkets, a few assorted boxes but this...THIS...was his prize. The other purchases were to throw off those who would try and claim it for themselves. He'd known there were others, but they'd had the nerve to stay home, leaving this all to him.
Oh, the price of shipping it home was murder, but money would be a minor bother once he'd released the true nature.

He grinned, pulling the last of the wax off the case. Here it stood, in all it's majestic glory. Anthony awed at it, feeling the power within. With a shaky hand, he gently lifted the old, weather-beaten lid. The whole thing looked like it had been wrecked long ago, or build from aged driftwood. There was an ominous creak as the lid lifted, a final warning to the dark power within. He pulled up a stool and placed his hands gently upon the keys. His fingers resting ever delicately on the old cracked and jagged ivory. His eyes drifted closed as in his throat, ancient words formed, infusing the beast with life once more. It had been too long, and Anthony could feel the hunger within drawing his life into it. It was a willing sacrifice. Anthony remained chanting even as his fingers bled onto the dark brown bars. The Harpsichord would once again play it's music, the damned melody of a hundred thousand years. The dulcid tones would waft over every inch of the earth, compelling his will into form and remaking all of reality to his whim. The little men who'd been master before had limited vision, petty desires. they knew only the basics of the power they touched, and in the end, thier ignorance consumed all they were. Good riddance. They deserved thier short-sighted oblivion. The lives taken, destroyed by this infernal machine only urge Anthony to give more. He was its master, its lord, and tomorrow, he would be more. Tomorrow, he would be a god.

Woman

Harold shuddered in his makeshift shelter, a drooping cardboard box in a filthy alley. Buildings towered everywhere, providing little more defense against the rain than his rapidly deteriorating cover. He needed somewhere dryer to spend this warm August night and this just wasn't cutting it. he grabbed his pack and pulled his jacket close before hurling himself into the streets to seek a more adequate place to hide from the sky's furious torrent.
Dodging the heavy weekend traffic, he crossed streets to the angry protests of car horns and less than polite drivers. They saw him as a vermin, a sub-human thing that leeched off the scraps they'd worked so hard to have the privilege of throwing away. To them, the scavanging creature was a nuscience to be crushed or at least to pretend it's existence simply was untrue.
He'd never begged. He didn't ask nor bother anyone for his continued well being. He had a pride unseen since the days of the ancients. The boldness of a greek epic hero flowed through him veins and he would be damned before he let a little thing like being destitute and homeless even slow his progress. He knew what he was doing and where he needed to be.

He ducked into the doorway of a nearby restraunt, knowing that he had no more than a few moments before the owner came out to shoo him into the screaming rain once more. he took a moment to assess his situation and removed the only thing he had left from his pocket. The strange device that led to his ruin still glowed gently, a reassuring and ominous sign of thing to come and all he'd lost. He looked at it for just a moment, fearful that others might notice and covet it themselves, and returned it to its silk bag, which rested within his shirt, keeping it close to his heart. he smiled and looked onward before straightening and stepping back into the rain. Ahead of him loomed the tower of industry he'd once called his domain. Since his departure it had fallen into complete ruin housing only the worst of humanity -the murderous hearts and the cruel take-it-all greeders that fed on anything and everything they could pull into thier gaping maws hungry for more and more until they devoured entire lives. And at the center sat her. That woman. the one unerringly fatal force that sucked clean every good and noble spirit that sought to even challenge her complete empire of terror, unbeknownst to anyone who could do anything to stop her from consuming everything within the city.
Nobody knew where she'd come from and nobody cared to ask. To be honest, very few were even aware that she existed in the first place. She never left the building and was only seen in passing glances-fleeting images caught in dirty windows and broken mirrors. But she was there, the heart of this great beast that was ravenously engulfing the city's resources at an alarming rate, with the oblivious residents fighting thier mundane lives in abject ignorance.

Finite

"It's running out."
I spoke to noone, keeping my thoughts racing, the blur of formulae and figures blazing through my skull like nighttime traffic.
I shuffled through papers, frantic for an answer or just some small detail i may have missed.
"It's got to be a mistake, there's no way..."
I stopped, my hand resting on a sheet of paper stained with coffee smudges and too much eraser trauma. My eyes fixed on the numbers there, which seemed to sway and dance as I examined the incomprehensible scrawl of my years-past handwritings.
I sat down, slumped really, collapsing onto my chair like a sack of defeated potatoes.
"I knew it all along, didn't I? "

I picked up the phone once my shock wore off and called Annette. She'd warned me not to tamper but i kept going, kept pushing myself to find a better solution. great, her machine. At least it would still listen to me and wasn't yet tired of my endless rants.
"Anne, hey. I really need to talk to you face to face. it's about ...that thing I've been doing. Kind of important, really in a bad place here. Call me. "

I hung up and went back to the paper-strewn research room, brushing away the notes and schematics and picked up the suit. The circuitry was still exposed, the open wounds still showing with little sparks every so often just to let me know it was still alive. It had been a long time since the off switch had fuctioned, so now it was constantly draining. I only now realized that it was dangerously close to ending more than a few crimes and crises. I looked it over once more, this crackilng, popping thing that I'd used so many times for the benefit of everything, the instrument of my greatest achievements lying broken in my hand, begging to be repaired.-pleading with me to return it to its former glory. And what a glory it was. the world praised our deeds, everything we'd done in the few short years since that first concept entered my head. I lay it out on the work table and smoothed the soft cloth carefully. How could this simple suit and a little bit of science have allowed such amazing acts?
And, similarly, how could my shortsightedness have now been what looks to be the certain demise of the entire universe? I sat down, staring at the phone and waiting for Anne to call.

The phone woke me from an unintended sleep, and i eagerly answered it, to the irritated voice.
"Well, what is it? I told you to leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you anymore. Accept it."
I took a breath and spoke calmly, making sure to not let my ever-increasing frustration grow. "Anne, this isn't about us, this is only about the suit. I'm in a lot of trouble here, and i need you to come over right now to help. I honestly wasn't going to call, but you're the only one who I can trust with this."
She breathed a heavy, annoyed breath into the reciever, and then to my relief,"Okay. I'm on my way over."

I didn't clean up anything. i knew her well enough to know that any sign of effort would be seen as an attempt to win her back. Tonight wasn't about that ship, which i'd let sink though honestly I'd pushed it into the depths. I unlocked the door and sent her a text, telling her to come on in and I went back to my suit.

I'd been so proud. using major luck and a few insane theories, I'd managed to make a portable reality manipulation device. I mean, imagine it, the ability to warp anything you can imagine in any way you wanted, and I managed to make it a reality. the irony wasn't lost i assure you.
But, errors in my calculations caused the changes to draw too much from the universe, straining the bonds and ultimately drawing upon the very fundamental components of creation istelf. And the universe's ability to repair itself after i made my changes turned out to be more finite than i'd ever realized...