Chemical Slide

If I were capable of feeling guilt, I suppose I might, but there’s no place for that here.

Storytellers & Artists: Will D'Laz & Christian E. Hallaway

Year: (c) 2021

Now we watch and wait....

What the...?

Where the hell am I?

All my knowledge. All my memories. At least up until the moment of creation. Now he’s on his own.


From here he looks like just a shadow. Which is really all he is. I envy his ignorance, his innocence, his awe. I don’t envy his confusion. If I were capable of feeling guilt, I suppose I might, but there’s no place for that here. We all serve a purpose, no matter how we come to be. I would be just as cruel for denying him his purpose as I am for bringing him here. And who am I to fight destiny? His or mine.

He looks back at the box like a child to his mother. Just moments ago he felt trapped, suffocated in her womb. Now I sense he wants nothing more than to crawl back in and bathe in it’s familiar embrace.

Parting words from mother? A wish of luck, perhaps? A dollar for lunch?

No such comfort. Just one word, not written by mother. Written by me. One word. “RUN”


Shit indeed, my friend. But that’s not the half of it.

He’s already ahead of the last. At least he made it out of the sand traps. First one died before he could get out of the box. Pretty sure the sand took the rest.


Idiot! Wait, what’s this? Something new...

This can NOT end well.


I’m sorry friend. You deserved better.

I’d better call HQ. Have them prep another box.

Hold up. Who the fuck is this guy?

Wait? Is that…? He NEVER comes out to do his own dirty work! Friend, you did far better than I thought. May not need another box after all.

What’s this? Shit. My clones. They’re on to me. Guess that explains the big guy’s appearance.

Is that son of a bitch looking at me? SHIT. I’ve been made. Looks like HQ may be sending a pine box this time.

And it looks like I’m doing this the old fashioned way. Can’t fight destiny, right?