Forcing but subtly,

People to eat green,

To be vegans and abstain from meat,

Using their own children to make them feel ashamed,

About what is on their plates,

Knowing that the one's pushing for this will never do the same,

It's bugs for us and caviar for them,

They want us to be the enslaved classes again,

To be happy about owning nada, not even what we eat for dinner,

It's trickery in the most twisted way,

Making everything too costly,

To make it so that their food is the only option you have left,

Don't let yourself be bullied into changing what you have on your plate

It's your life, do it your way.

"Cure save us? Cure good?" The eyes of the lifeless often had a sort of depth and darkness that left the ones who stared petrified, easing their status as prey to feast on. But what Clint noticed in Frederick's eyes right then was something else: a glint of hope.

"Cure good." He left his retort short but with a reassuring smile. Patting him on the shoulder twice, Clint stood up, raising the bottle in his hand above the center of the table.

"To the cure, my friends!" Though only Jules managed to repeat the little chant after him, and the rest were indistinct excited mumblings, he could feel things were going back to normal again. If there ever was a normal.

The night was one of celebration all around Charon's camp. From the very next day then, everyone on the site would start receiving their antidotes, and all that zombie apocalypse stuff was about to be wrapped up for good. There was a part of Clint that wished the cure were developed earlier. Back when he met his sons for the first time and lost them.

But there was no time to stay miserable due to all that happened in the past. There was only time to be concerned about rebuilding what once was, even better than the way it was from the lessons learnt. A brighter future. Maybe ... all of this was nature helping them set things straight. Like floods that once cleansed it all, a virus that brought out the worst in each.

Clint grabbed another bottle, leapt over the bench, and gestured for Jules to come over.

Treading through the lifeless forms roaming around with newfound energy, one that gave them wings, he settled down at the foot of the oak for the night. Jules, much slower to follow him, crashed beside him and let out a sigh. Both were yet to get drunk enough for a celebration, but what better entertainment than deep philosophical discussions for a good drink? And what company better than a man who always looked as if he had it with life?

"So," Clint laid down on his back, watching the night sky, "what now?" After enough grunting and shuffles, Jules settled himself too, "I finally get to rest. Drink beer all day, live on a beach, maybe." They both let out a small giggle yet were unwilling to look at each other. If they did, the grown men would have broken down into tears knowing everything they did paid off in the end. That it was the right decision not to give up. So instead, they decided to crack jokes one after another, staring at the moonlit sky.

That was when all hell broke loose.

********

Every lamp in the basement laboratory went off in a quick flicker, leaving Dr Elizabeth Harlem in the creeping darkness. Right beneath the composed Charon and the fierce Margo, she used to feel this protective armor in the friendly camp until then, but something about the night felt off. Not even being in a healthy state to make a run, and the eerie silence from the floor above made her requestion the need to check up on the well-being of her mutated friends. Ensuring that the regular creaking of the floorboard was not to leave the room, she slowly stepped her way towards the few samples of cure she kept away.

"So, you must be the infamous virologist, Dr Elizabeth Harlem."

Elizabeth froze right where she stood. The stuttering, husky voice belonged neither to her sentient accomplices nor the unaffected ones. She couldn't turn back her life, but the throbbing curiosity to identify the unwelcome intruder nearly petrified her senses.

"I read about you. A cure for the incurable virus." In the faint gleam of the moonlight that seeped in from the vents, she could see the silhouette of the tall figure making patterns inside the room. He was not attempting to come any closer, but neither moved farther away, disallowing the tension to break free, "Who are you finding the cure for, Doctor? The mindless or the ones without a heart?"

Elizabeth sensed a lump against her throat, holding her back from uttering a word.

Massing together all courage that she could, he shuffled her feet to confront the untimely stranger in the dark. The shadows in the room hid his frame above the chest, leaving her unable to discern his face.

"Who are you?"

The silhouette let out a little chuckle, but it was soon cut short on a note of despair, "For a woman of Science, mademoiselle, you are not asking the right questions." His trembling hands held one another tight, attempting to conceal his weakness, "Does it matter who I am, Miss Harlem? It hurts, though, doesn’t it? To not know what's behind the shadows."

This was a game. A vicious game of cat and mouse. Elizabeth knew it, but her chances of escape were too trivial. She had to find another way.

"What did you do to Margo and Charon?" she asked as she put one more step closer to the drawer of cures.

"Oh, your friends. I asked them to wait upstairs. Do you want me to invite them over?" Lizzie was right. Her worst nightmares had come true. Whoever this was, he had sentient control over Margo and Charon too. Even if she were to run away, she would be strangled to death by her own friends. She took one more step towards the drawer. Her only means of escape was curing three barbarous beasts with her weak, injured physique. Only if Clint and Jules were here.

********

Clint and Jules could barely feel their feet touching the ground, one after another, speeding away from the hordes of impending doom that chased them. They had no idea what induced the sudden switch among the mindless. It could only mean one thing, and that was a possibility they were not ready to reckon with yet. But it was the only thing that made sense: Something happened to Charon.

But what concerned Clint more was that the devastating consequences would be far worse. Charon and Margo were together. Things even Charon couldn't hold back against would have still been an easy drill for Margo. And if there was indeed something wrong with Charon, it could only mean one thing: It wasn't just Charon who went down. Margo did too.

And that was terrifying. All the way from the beginning, running away from things that barely made any sense, they could rely on Margo to appear out of nowhere and save the day. If there was something that even Margo couldn't hold against, it meant that all their battles and sacrifices were to be lost for the day that preceded the morning that would have set everything straight.

Clint could no longer hold all the thoughts in. Amid panting like a hound affected by rabies, he yelled at Jules that they needed to go back at once. Whatever it was that set everything wild, it demanded a confrontation. But leading a massive horde of zombies to a constricted house with barely an escape plan seemed like a definite suicide.

There was only one way. They had to split ways: One to distract the mindless, the other to brawl with the worst of them. It was suicide nonetheless, but it left a chance for at least one of them to survive. One of them had to be alive to protect the cure. They fought and defended too long to lose it all, only a few hours till dawn.

When Clint looked up at Jules, he knew, at once, that he wouldn't make it till the end of this run—it had to be Jules who got the final brawl. A fragment of him wanted to seek revenge for all that happened in his life, but it was no time for decisions based on emotions. It wasn't something Jules would have accepted if they had any other choice, but it was apparent from his features that he knew it too, "I'll come back for you, boy."

********

The headlamps of the vintage Corvette lit up the murky alleyway for a moment. And as soon as the wiper blades came to a standstill, the windshield turned misty by the light drizzle. Unfastening the seatbelts tucking him in, Cory stepped out onto the mild rain, a faint smile stuck against his facade. Fingers sliding smoothly over the hood of the vintage car, he walked over to where the crippled frame laid, shivering.

Pulling up the sleeves of his chestnut suit, he squatted on his knees beside the figure, rubbing his cold arms against each other, "Well, hello, Captain Raymond. Long time no see. Had fun?" Agitated, Clint tried to grab Cory by the collars, but he was too weak and slow to land a blow. Laughing aloud into the silence of the night, Cory took a few steps backwards from him, fully intending to further infuriate him, "The angrier you get, the faster the virus takes over, you know. Makes things easier for me."

Seating himself on top of the grey garbage can, Cory let out a deep sigh, "Did you seriously think that there would be a …." His hands swished in the air, seeking for the right word to fit right in the statement, "timeline where you and your little gang save the world?" He could not keep in his laughter, only pausing once in a while just to continue even louder, "Ah, such a mess."

Hands skimming over his glossy hair, he took a deep breath, putting on a mask of earnestness, "You would not have taken that ridiculous cure either way, would you have, Clint? You have things left to do." Leaping out of his seat, Cory started walking around his newfound prey in circles.

"As calm as you pretend to be, you, Mr. Raymond, have become a vengeful man. You need to tear someone apart right from the core, but who? All those who were responsible for everything that happened to you … they are all gone. But all that anger, all that spite, it's eating you away from the inside, isn't it?"

Cory, once again, squatted right beside him, offering him a chance at vindication, "But I—I can help you. You know it. And I could use someone like you, Captain. We would set right what's wrong with this world. Together." Clint shuffled away from him, groaning in pain, striving his best to keep the manipulative monster away from him.

"It's useless, Clint, and you know it! Give in already."

Silence. Cory slowly stepped closer and closer to the weakling. Sitting beside him for one last time in the night, he stretched his arms towards the mangled figure. And when his hands felt the coldness of the once-righteous Captain, he knew he was closer than ever to his final triumph.

Written By: Chacko_Stephen

yes, there are those days

when you lie

in bed

with palms under your head

and stare at the

cracks in the

ceiling

There were many cracks on

the kid's

ceiling

and he watched them

imagining that

they were borders

between countries

He was looking upon

a world map

and he started naming

the countries

and their people

some were humans

and others

were beast folk

and fairies and demons

and the politics

between these countries

were quite shaky.

There were wars all

the time

and that was

easy to imagine,

for the background noise

of wars

was very vivid

just a door

away

It was getting

quite intense now

***

INSTAGRAM:

https://www.instagram.com/bogdan_1_dragos/

"Give me control Cory, let me drive...."

"You're right voices, I'm too weak." Cory smiled ruefully. "I can't create utopia on my own. I'm not the genius I thought I was. You can take it from here."

"You have chosen wisely Cory. I will fulfill your dream, with my own touches of course."

"Thank you, voices. Before I surrender all to you, can you tell me who and what you are?"

"I am Crusis. I am the parasite you injected into yourself. And with me in control, we will be an unstoppable force for a better world."

*****

Brun awoke to the sound of the door to his room being kicked in. Still feeling disoriented, he wondered if the image of a sadistically grinning Cory was real.

"Cory? What is the meaning of this?"

"Cory went on a sabbatical. You can call me Crusis."

"Whatever nutjob." Brun smiled, rising to his feet. "I was going to destroy you in the end anyway, I don't mind speeding up the process."

"Awaken my friend, take control."

"What are you talking about? You woke me up by kicking in my door idiot!"

"Not you Brun. Your parasite. Let it take control. Give it free reign."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, so frail little Cory couldn't handle his parasite, eh? Sorry, I refuse. My parasite is my bitch, and I run the show!"

"Very well then, I'll just have to dispose of both of you. To be fair though, I'll let you take the first shot at me."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Cory, Crusis, or whatever the fuck your name is, thank you for the morning laugh and warm up! This is gonna be fun!"

Brun rushed at Cory and squeezed his neck with his right hand. He lifted Cory into the air and kneed him in the chest. He then punched Cory in the face repeatedly with his left fist. He stood in shock at the revelation that none of his strikes fazed Cory at all. In fact, Cory still had the same sadistic smile on his face throughout all of Brun's attacks.

"Not only will I never be in, but I'll shut you up for good!" Brun yelled, squeezing Cory's neck as tightly as he could.

"Golly, you are so strong Brun!" Crusis said sarcastically. "If dear old Cory were in charge right now, his neck would probably have been crushed. Alas, your strength now pales in comparison to mine. Allow me to show you real power, old friend."

Crusis grabbed Brun's wrist and squeezed it lightly, crushing it. Brun screamed as he involuntarily released Cory's neck from his grip. Crusis then squeezed Brun's neck and ripped his head off. He followed up by kicking Brun's torso, knocking his twitching body to the floor. He then slammed Brun's head down as if he had caught a touchdown pass.

"What.... are.... you?" Brun trembled fearfully.

"I am Crusis, the parasite that is properly controlling Cory's body to its full potential. The utopia he wanted will be formed, a utopia more suited for us parasites mind you, but details are details. It is going to be beautiful, and it is unfortunate that you won't be here to see it. So long Brun - who was the bitch in the arrangement with your parasite again?"

Before Brun could reply, Crusis stomped on his head with a sickening crunch. He then walked over to Brun's still twitching body, and gleefully devoured it until nothing was remaining. Once his meal was finished, he returned to the flattened remains of Brun's head and marveled at it before picking up what was still solid.

"Maybe I should put this in a frame!" Crusis jeered. "See Cory, I told you I could make you strong again! Now let's see if Brun's goons want to join our cause or suffer the same fate as him!"

*****

Niya's journey to the present had been interesting. Her last living memory was when she was 25 years old. She had graduated with her associate degree and accepted a position at the massage therapy clinic she had previously interned with. Before she could begin her first day of work in the field. she was passionate about; she was killed from an attack by an undead horde. She knew she was dead; she knew she had joined their ranks, yet she was fully aware of everything going on. Charon ultimately found her and rescued her from an existence of mindless roaming and murdering. He had built a community that included surviving humans, and sentient undead like her who were living like humans again. Niya stood by Charon's vision for those that had survived the apocalypse and appreciated how he had given other undead like herself a chance to fulfill their dreams from their living days. In her case, she was opening a massage therapy clinic of her own, and she had a couple of trial runs set up before fully opening services up for their community. The first was a pair of humans that had just joined their home, coming in for a couple's massage. Niya smiled about how far she had come as she made the preparations for her first visitors.

"Maraka! Wake up and take control!"

"Who are you?" Niya winced, clutching her head in pain.

"Not you! I don't need a masseuse! Give me Maraka, your parasite!"

Niya screamed as she felt herself losing consciousness. When her eyes reopened, another was sensing the world around her.

"Greetings Maraka, it would appear you claimed control over your host." The voice in Niya's head continued. "I am Crusis, another parasite that is currently building a utopia for us, a species superior to the deceased humans we inhabit."

"Yes Crusis, I received word of your uprising through the hive mind." Maraka replied, smiling using Niya's lips. "I was planning on taking over this human soon, her goals were too limited after all. Massages? Surely there is much more that can be accomplished through this body!"

"I couldn't agree more." Crusis's voice continued. "Your first clients that are on their way are actually working on a cure that will dispose of us. You and I know that we cannot allow that."

"I couldn't agree more." Maraka answered with a smile. "I will get them relaxed with a nice massage courtesy of the skills my host possesses, and then I will kill them when they are at their maximum comfort level. Should they return as sentient undead like us, I will get their newly born parasites on the same page. Otherwise, I will dispose of them permanently."

"Excellent! While you do this, I will continue to build my army here. After you finish with your first clients, continue to turn, or dispose of additional clientele from Charon's paradise. Your work will greatly weaken their side before we arrive to finish the job."

"I will do that Crusis. It is lovely doing business with you!" Maraka laughed gleefully as she began new preparations for her first guests.

*****

Margo sat on the park bench, overlooking hikers walking a trail leading into the woods, children enjoying a massive playground, and bikers and skaters enjoying the paved road in between the playground and forest.

She read a community newspaper, noticing an advertisement for a wrestling league that was starting up. She smiled at the thought of showing everyone the moves she was certain she could still pull off.

"Well hello stranger! Nice day in the park, eh?"

Margo looked up from the paper and smiled at the friendly faces of Lizzie and Dale.

"Well, hello there to my favorite couple!" Margo said happily. "What are you two up to on this lovely day?"

"Well, we are off to be the first clients of Niya at her new massage parlor." Dale replied, grinning at Lizzie. "If we enjoy it, maybe you and Charon should go together next!"

"Stop!" Margo laughed, turning red. "We're just friends, and allies working towards a better world together."

"Maybe, but I've seen the way he looks at you Margo." Lizzie teased. "All the same though, I hope the rest of your day treats you well!"

"Thanks, same to you!" Margo smiled once more as her friends left for their appointment. She thought about the way Charon looked at her, and how he had called her beautiful. She thought about his goals for peace, and the wonderful community that had taken them in. She thought about how, just maybe, there could be something between them. She hoped that when the war was over, that her and her friends could not only stay in this peaceful place, but also work to create similar locations around the world too.

"Margo, listen to me!"

Margo recoiled at the sound of the voice in her head. She questioned if she was going crazy, just like Cory seemed to be doing with voice struggles of his own.

"You're not going crazy Margo, I'm the parasite within you. You must act now; your friends are in danger!"

Written By: Roses311Sublime

biting pain,

bitter

broken,

bleeding

heart

beating

still

beating

heart

bleeds

broken

bitter

painful bits

I see the hate all around me.

This hate, without any just cause.

"Hate the gays," they say,

As they hurl the word "gay" around,

Using it as an insult.

Along with other slurs,

Which I shall not name here.

It's in my face,

All the time, everyplace.

Me, I'm not gay.

I could just walk away.

Yet, I stand here,

Telling these hateful fools,

"No"

They question me,

They demand to know,

Am I a gay?

"No," I answer,

"But the people who you bully,

"Who you beat,

"Who's murder your hate fuels,

"As kindling fuels a pyre,

"The people you would have lined up against a wall,

"And shot without trial,

"That could be my brother,

"My sister,

"You would degrade them, strip of of their rights,

"For what?

"They are innocents!

"And if loving is a crime,

"Then we are all guilty,

"Whether we're gay or not!"

being unseen

then

being seen

what once was

impossible

becomes

possible

lift a hand to the sky

and thank life

for

bringing you joy

being broken

oh so broken

then

realizing it's a lie

and

you've been here the

whole time

it's a whole

new

way of living,

when you're free

even in the

dark

i can spread

rainbow paint

with the toes

of my tennis shoes

it's unseen

but

i can see

Lets all take a car ride

As we see the rainbows and the pride

What used to be riots of free rights

Have become parades and sparkly tights

There was only one place: Gay bars

No we are able to walk amongst the stars

So much to go over but so little words

Today we're able to be ourselves so get out your swords

LGBTQ community is surfing the world's tides

Happy June everyone! June is Pride month, where any gay, lesbian, trans, and everything between can be their true selves and never have to fear a judgmental society. While I myself am not a member of the LGBT+ community, I'm sadly a boring straight cis-male. However, I am an ally and big supporter, and I wish to show my support and appreciation with this year's new theme challenges.

For those new on Prose I like to create challenges centered around a specific theme such as romance or horror or science fiction. This time around I've chosen to create challenges centered around Pride month. We all know someone who is part of the LGBT+ community, whether that someone is a friend or a family member. Perhaps you yourself are a part of the community. Maybe you're open or maybe you're still in the closet. Regardless, this is about celebrating those in the community and saying that they are loved and accepted.

Please fill free to enter one or all of the following challenges. And please tag me so I can check out your awesome entries.

Best of luck! And remember, love is love!

1. LGBT

Prompt: What does Pride month mean to you?

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13237

2. Romance

Prompt: Write a love story or poem focusing on a same sex couple.

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13236

3. Micropoetry

Prompt: Write a short poem about LGBT+ pride.

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13235

4. Flash Fiction

Prompt: Write a short story with LGBT+ themes.

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13234

5. Horror

Prompt: Write a horror story with LGBT+ themes.

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13233

7. Reviews

Prompt: Best LGBT+ couples in movies or tv. Or at least ones that you ship.

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13232

8. Journal

Prompt: Write from the perspective of someone that is in the closet and wants to come out.

Link: https://theprose.com/challenge/13231

#themechallenges #lgbt #pride #pridemonth #loveislove

Once upon a time, there was an old dark forest, which was home to a whole host of scary monsters.

And in the deepest part of the old dark forest lived a powerful Wizard: the old, old Man in the Moon.

The Man in the Moon had retired to a gloomy castle that stood decaying in the heart of this ancient forest.

And all over the walls of the decaying castle there grew a evil ivy that was very much alive. When any intruders came near, the vines would entrap them.

Now the old Moon Lord was very ugly. Of course, you’ll understand that already, if you’ve ever looked up at the moon in a telescope, with all its cracks and craters and wrinkles! And he knew that anyone who saw him would straight away take fright.

So that, you see, is why the bitter old Wizard would only ever come out of his castle at night, wearing a strange evil mask, so that even the scary monsters of the forest would not see what he looked like.

One night, the monsters of the forest decided to hold a contest to see who was the scariest monster of them all, and to find out who was willing to challenge the Moon Lord. Boastful Count Dracula, of course, was quite certain it would be HIM.

One after another they journeyed to the castle, and tried to scare the Man in the Moon. But even the biggest and most scary of the monsters went running away, wailing and crying, when they came face to face with the powerful old Wizard.

The Jack-O-Lantern’s light blew out when he encountered the Wizard; and the poor Zombie returned a little later, shuffling along the leafy floor of the forest. ‘I was so frightened,’ he said mournfully, ‘my legs fell off and I had to crawl away!’

The Vampire was the next to come forward. He flew disguised as a bat to the castle battlements, and tried to sneak up on the Wizard to take a bite out of his neck; but instead, he was attacked by the pack of Demon Wolves that roamed the castle grounds.

‘Ouch! Fangs for the memory!’ cried Count Dracula, and he shut himself away in his coffin, refusing to come out.

The monsters gathered together once more, and wondered what to do next. But as all this was happening - with no warning at all - a super-loud scream came, way up high, from the tall tower of the castle.

The old Man in the Moon had called for reinforcements - and the young Man in the Moon (his son) had sent a shooting star. And inside the shooting star, there was an entire legion of Space Spiders!

Hundreds of red-eyed Space Spiders came down on the monsters, and started biting them all with their big blood-covered fangs. The battle was fierce - for the monsters knew now they were fighting for the very survival of their forest!

The monsters retreated, and they realised that they would need help if they were to defeat the vicious old Man in the Moon. Reluctantly, they realised they needed the aid of a SUPERHERO!

The monsters decided to send three of their number in search of the Superhero, but the Zombie refused to go without his legs (which were being slowly pulled apart by the evil ivy), and the Count was still hiding in his coffin. So the first to volunteer was the Dragon.

The Dragon had always been brave and was willing to go on this mission. He flew up into the skies, his wings making a noise like a rushing wind. Soon after, the bellowing bad-tempered Ogre became the second monster to set off on the Superhero hunt.

But for a long time, no other monster was willing to come forward. At long last, Ghoulie the somewhat timid Ghost decided he would join the Superhero quest too.

‘W-w-well, I’ll t-t-try my b-b-best,’ he stammered.

Meanwhile, the Moon Lord looked out from the castle. The Wizard could see hundreds of fearsome red and yellow eyes shining in the darkness. Would the Space Spiders listen to him, and do his bidding? Even he started to feel fear in his black heart.

The old Wizard felt tired. How he wished he had been left alone in his crumbling castle! Standing on the battlements, he shivered as he saw more and more giant spider-webs, glistening with moonbeams, spreading amongst the trees of the forest.

The old Man in the Moon raised his arms to cast one last mighty spell. Another loud scream came from the castle tower. The monsters looked up, and saw an army of Flying Monkeys pouring out of the window at the very top of the tower.

Some of the Monkeys were entangled in the tightening moonbeam webs, but others jumped onto the backs of the Spiders. Trees came crashing down, and streams ran black with spider-blood. The monsters were very worried indeed...

But the Flying Monkeys were outside the castle for the first time, and so the Moon Lord’s spell on them started to wear off. Angry with their former master, one by one they flew down to where the monsters of the forest were gathered, led now by Spooky the Skull.

The remaining Space Spiders had fled. Monsters and Monkeys together encircled the castle. The Zombie had found some new legs, and even the Count had emerged from his box again. Then Spooky pointed to the skies: ‘Look! THREE Superheroes - come to our aid!’

The Man in the Moon looked at the army surrounding his castle, and he knew in his heart that he could never win. Even with his remaining evil powers, he knew that that with the coming of the Superheroes he was sure to be defeated.

‘I surrender!’ he cried. ‘I’ll leave in peace, if you let me go!’ The monsters quickly agreed, and the Moon Lord promised to go back to the moon (to make sure his son was behaving). With his last magic, he turned the Demon Wolves into lovable puppy dogs.

The evil ivy was torn down from the castle walls, the last of the spider webs burnt, and even the meanest of the monsters promised the Superheros they would try to be good.

‘We promise - no more fighting Wizards!’ they said.

The castle was rebuilt by the Flying Monkeys, the Dragon and the Ogre, and made to look splendid again (though the Count insisted on his coffin being put in the basement). But how did the Wizard get back to the moon, without his magic?

Simple.

By rocket.

THE END