Showing posts with label Tabitha Cain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tabitha Cain. Show all posts

Sunday, April 27, 2025

Eprologue: Not So Final, Perhaps

Author's Note: This story is a direct follow-up to Imaginator - The Final Story of Sharkerbob.

It began, as many profound and thought-provoking stories must surely do, with a guy sitting around doing nothing. Behold Salvador “Sharkerbob” Roberts, former writer, current prisoner, a penname incarnated into his own world of fantasies, in a most boring way: trapped on a floating island by one of his own characters, left with only his own morose thoughts to keep him company. Pity him, that he might feel validated in his malaise. Or don’t. Up to you.

Friday, April 10, 2020

Tabitha's Prologue


My early life was one of adventure. You might think it was worthy of a whole series of exciting memoirs, detailing my many, many adventures battling monsters and demons and dark gods, of helping my fellow champions save the universe time and again. But honestly, looking back, it all blurs together for me. Not to say I’ve forgotten the details, or that I confuse events; not at all. Each adventure is as clear to me as if it happened yesterday.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Tabitha's Defiance

Webfic Writing Challenge: Write a story using only dialogue, 1000 word limit.

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“Tabitha.”

“Lord Luc.”

“Why are you here?”

“Is it true? All this is just a game? This whole war, these witch hunts, the Final Day? Is it just a game to all of you?”

“…”

“Well?!”

“Tabitha, do you know what eternity is like?”

“What? What does—?”

“It’s agony. The agony of endless ennui. We’ve existed for so long, infinity doesn’t even seem a fitting descriptor. Much of that time, we were insane. There was only us, and the prison that is our universe. It was only when we discovered the means to bend our universe to our whim, that we finally saw the salvation to our pain. For eons, we toyed with the fundement of our prison, until one of us, none remember who, learned how to make worlds. But even that grew dull after a time. It was not until another one of us discovered how to make life, that things finally became truly interesting.”

“So it is all a game. Just entertainment.”

“Yes. And this calamity you wish to stop. The end of the world. It’s just our way of wiping the slate clean, and starting over. All of us gods, we’ll switch roles around. I look forward to playing one of the Tricksters next time. Being the Lord of Justice gets dull after a while.”

“Fifty years. Fifty years, I dedicated to you, Luc. Fifty years I fought against the forces of Savic, believing he was the ultimate evil of the world. But it’s all of you. Millions of people suffering and dying with your names on their lips, and you both, you all, don’t even give it a second thought do you? You’re all just acting. All of us in the world, we’re just your props.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t… I mean you… you create us… you raise us… you develop our worlds… don’t you care? Even a little damned bit?”

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t do it at all. We’d be making something else. But no game has thrilled us more so than this little role play we’ve devised. Alas no session can last indefinitely, or the boredom eventually sets in again. That’s the worst part of it. No matter how wonderful a creation we make, even something that may enthrall us for a billion eons, it all eventually goes to rust, even our love for it. Nothing, it seems, is truly eternal. Nothing but us, and the horror of infinity ever clawing at the edges of our sanity.”

“…”

“Tabitha, do you understand?”

“How many know?”

“Once every few Cycles one of you finds out. Sometimes they sympathize and accept the inevitable, as we do. Some, however, seek to defy it. But they cannot do what we ourselves are incapable of. Even our greatest creation has never been able to exceed us, and free us from our prison of existence and need.”

“I see.”

“So what will you do, Tabitha? Will you accept your role, as I have accepted mine? Or will you try to do the impossible?”

“…”

“Well?”

“…”

“What’s that you have there, child?”

“You say this universe is your prison. So you’ve never been able to leave?”

“No. We would have, if we could.”

“And nothing has ever come into the universe, from the outside?”

“The many dimensions and planes you know of are our creation. Our definition of ‘universe’ is broader than your own perception.”

“I know what you define as the universe. I’m asking you, have you ever encountered something from outside it?”

“No. What are you getting at child?”

“Do you know what this thing in my hand is?”

“No.”

“You don’t recognize it at all? You can’t just tell, with all your divine intuition?”

“I… cannot… What is that thing?”

“I think, my former Lord, that I know what choice to make.”

“What are you—hrk!”

“I’m going to break your Cycle.”

“I--! What is--what is this--?”

“Eternity’s end.”

“Impossible! Impossi…hck… ch-child… this won’t… stop anything… the Final Day is coming… all you’re… going to do… is prevent the world… from being reborn… hhhhhhh…”

“…”

“…”


“…I know.”

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Tabitha Monki vs Marcus

"What are you saying?  That you don't care anymore?!  It can't be that simple!"  Tabitha couldn't hold back the tears.  Marcus simply looked at her indifferently.

"I had thought, for a time, that I could regain what I lost," he said.  "Regain my nobility.  Regain my purpose.  But I guess all it was delusion.  I let my love for you blind me to the fact that nothing really changed."

Tabitha forced back her tears.  "So... what?  Now you don't love me anymore, and you've given up?  Is that all I've been to you?  A distraction?"

Marcus shrugged.  "Call it what you will.  Distraction... a fling... maybe it was just one of those flashpan romances."

"So what will you do now?" said Tabitha.

"Whatever I want," he said.  "I no longer care about this world... but then, I'm not ready to just go back to sleep."  He smirked, turning to Tabitha.  "Maybe I'll treat myself to a bit of conquest.  These people really could use a strong, guiding hand, don't you think?"

Tabitha's gaze hardened.  Her sword materiallized in her hand.  "Do anything to this world, and I will stop you.  I don't care who you are... I haven't given up on them."

Marcus smirked.  "I know," he said, snapping his fingers.  Tabitha cursed as a pillar of fire erupted beneath her, searing away her skin almost faster than it could regenerate.  By the time to spell ended, and she got to her feet, Marcus was already beyond her reach, his emerald draconic form racing off beyond the horizon.

Sighing shakily, Tabitha sank to the ground, tears flowing again.  She was supposed to be the Defender of the Earth; why couldn't she have seen this coming?  She pulled her hand away and looked at her tear-stained glove.  It had been centuries since she had cried, centuries since she had gotten close enough to someone to let them hurt her that badly.

Standing, she composed herself.  Things would be harder now.  She was on her own.  But as ever, forever, she still had her mission.  She turned and trudged back to the airship.


"Hey!  Earth to Tabby!  Hello! ... If the Captain does not respond by the count of ten, I am going to walk over there and pants her.  One... two..."

Tabby casually snagged Monki's hand just as the fingers touched her belt and judo flipped the girl halfway across the deck of the airship without so much as turning around.

"About time I got your attention," said Monki, rebounding off the deck and leaping back towards the helm, perching on the railing just infront of Tabitha.  "What's up?  You thinking about some hot guy?"

Tabitha Cain frees Monki

At the end of the small cave, she saw a series of metal bars. Behind them, a tiny cell, housing what looked like little more than a set of rags hanging off some chains. Tabitha stepped closer, and it took a moment for her eyes to recognize the form of a girl within the cell. She was tiny, if Tabitha had to guess, barely four feet tall, and thin as a broomstick. The rags hung loose and filthy over her form, and the chains, though not particularly large, seemed oversized for her body.

Looks were deceiving, of course. The creature before her appeared as a girl of oriental decent, almond-shaped eyes, dark brown hair, olive skin. But there was so much more to her. Tabitha could tell just from the sheer aura of power she sensed emanating from her.

“Greetings, little one,” said Tabitha.

There was no response. The girl kneeled in her tiny cell, wrists chained to the rock wall behind her by rusted shackles. They appear as mere iron, but Tabitha sensed them hum with a mystic force. The girl hung limply in her bonds. The shackles also chained her legs which were folded haphazardly beneath her. And lying across her lap was a long, furry tail, like that of a monkey, the end of which was likewise shackled.

“Are you the one called Monki?”