Novel & Cerita Skeletons Of Society

darting toward the shadows. From the porches of the shacks, the "Broken Assets" watched them. These were the ghosts of the 2008 collapse—men and women who had been "liquidated" by the banks and the early prototypes of the Audit. They were dressed in layers of wool and scavenged tactical gear, their faces etched with the hard lines of people who had lived in the "Analog Dead Zone" for nearly two decades.

"How could you possibly have cancer, being so pampered your whole life? If you're really sick, go ahead and die. Prove to me that you're sick!" I sat hopelessly outside the hospital, feeling the two coins left in my pocket—just enough for the bus home. I hadn't eaten a full meal in days, yet my real parents were spending a fortune to spoil my sister, renting out Disneyland just for her. Meanwhile, they left me in a cold, remote basement, calling it "tough love". Back in the basement, I held my only possession, a doll that had been mine since childhood, and I swore I would never go back home.

It’s interesting the kinds of secrets we keep, the hypothesized shadow self we hide from the world, and the nature of the skeletons we hide in our closets. Some secrets -some skeletons, are nothing but dust, some are rotten, with the flesh still clinging to the bones, and some sit in the shadow of their secrecy, sharing the darkness with ghosts of what they once was.

"The Hum is the 'Blood,' Kiri, but the iron is the 'Skeleton.' Without the skeleton, the blood has nowhere to go. We aren't wounding Oura; we’re giving it 'Permanence'." The "Forge-World-Oura" became a pilgrimage site for "Seekers of the Solid." From across the neighboring clusters, New Architects arrived, drawn by a primal instinct they couldn't name. They traded their "Light-Forms" for "Heavy-Bodies." They learned the "Geometry of the Gear" and the "Physics of the Valve." Oura was becoming the "Counter-Weight" to the Ascension—a place where the "Abstract" was forced to become "Actual."

I brandished the bone saw so the skeleton could see it, then began to lower it. “Which one should I start with?” I said, gliding it along the skeleton’s ribs. “Your arm? Or maybe I should go big and start with a leg.” The skeleton squirmed beneath me, but I was far stronger. Skeletons were the lowest form of the undead; without muscle or flesh, they were incredibly weak compared to most other supernatural beings. Becoming an undead skeleton was a punishment brought about by angering a witch, not a blessing of eternal life like a vampire -- although, some would argue that vampires were more cursed than blessed.

The barriers that kept the forces in the dark at bay would finally see a crack, and the world would be flooded with its own end. ....................................….. ABD News- "We are amongst ourselves one of the leading economists and social researchers in the world, Dr. Schewenstein. On the popular demand of the audience, we would like to have a chat with him regarding his beliefs of the current society and the blockbuster thesis regarding the fragile structure of the social order." The reporter turned to the man beside her, who was in his mid-forties. "What do you expect to be the balance breaker of this world?" The reporter addressed a much more popular sentiment

When the time came, it would be hard to justify who was at fault. "Honey, in the end, the basement is the cause of all our fights. You're suspicious, aren't you?" he asked, shrugging. "Why don't I take you downstairs and let you take a good look? Wouldn't that solve things?" I stared him down, suspecting that he had a trick up his sleeve. "Let's first agree on two things. What would happen if your suspicions about the basement are true, and what would happen if your suspicions are false?" He winked at me. "We have to agree on these two matters first. What do you think?"