The Omniscrolls

Growing up, I was told by my parents to never reveal the secret of my blood. I always had to fake prolonged injuries and ailments when I was perfectly fine, since my body was able to mend itself in a matter of minutes. I had to keep my guard up, especially in my teens, avoiding arguments and fights at all costs. I kept just a handful of friends; we were a close-knit group. However, one day, I had no option but to put my secret at risk, because one of those friends was run over by a drunk driver and was in critical condition—and my blood was the only match. Not only did my friend recover, but all his injuries healed in a matter of minutes, just as my body worked. The news spread throughout the town like a wildfire, and I was soon to be held under a microscope. Fearing what was on the horizon, my parents sent me off to live with one of my mother’s friends, cities away and deep into the suburbs, where I could live under the radar at a farm. My mother’s friend got me a new phone to use so ...

Being one of the few people amongst my colleagues who’d finish all their projects with days to spare, there were plenty of people who looked forward to watching me fall. A handful of us were targeted by these displeased parties on many occasions as they sought to tarnish our reputations with lies and deceit. There were many rumours about me selling company secrets, and one time, my email was even hacked to leave a fake paper trail. The culprits were eventually caught, and they swore to get back at me and the others. They especially held a grudge against me, because I was the one who took the matter to the police, whereas my other colleagues hesitated. I didn’t take their treats seriously, but things took an unexpected turn just a week later when my house was broken into while I was out with friends. When I arrived, a note was left on my dressing table. “You can’t escape us,” it said. An investigation was launched, but weeks passed without any results. I learned later through an office ...

For as long as I could remember, I had always felt different. I never knew how or why, but there was always this indescribable feeling lingering within me, as if something was buried deep within and waiting to break free. I knew very little of my past, and of my biological parents. My adoptive mother said I was left at her doorstep with a cryptic letter pleading with her to act as if I were her niece whose parents had just died in a car crash. Mum had followed those instructions and never revealed the truth to anyone, not even her closest friends. My biological mother had said in her letter that her life was in danger, and that I should be as far away from her as possible until the time is right. I never understood what that meant. When would I even know when that time would come? It was a question that stuck in my mind for years before something strange happened. One day, I was walking home from work when I was mugged by three men. I overpowered them and defended myself with ease, but...

Months had passed since the world went to war. As nuclear weapons devastated every country out there, my family and I hid in our bunker for six months until our supplies started to run scarce. My mom needed her thyroid medication, and my father his heart medication. I needed to venture out into the wastelands beyond the hatch to search for supplies. My brother was in no condition to walk, and my sister was still too young, so I took a backpack and opened the hatch for the first time since the war broke out. The world I once knew lay in ruins before me. Where once rows of houses and green hills stood, now only charred rubble and hollowed earth remained. The skies were unusually dark, burying any glimmer of light that was meant to reach us. I waded through the deserted terrain, keeping an eye out for any supplies I could find, while also being vigilant about any other survivors who could be wandering those parts. To my luck, I came across two other groups sharing food and medicine. I app...

A man sat alone in the corner of a crowded diner, sipping a steaming cup of coffee as the TV behind the counter switched between channels before stopping at the evening news. As the camera cut from the news anchor to a notorious politician, the man in the corner sighed into his cup, stirring up a wave of steam that would’ve singed anyone else’s eyes, but his remained transfixed on the screen, glaring through the heat. The politician spewed out what he was known for: misinformation and blatant lies. But while many people saw through those absurd accusations, there were still a substantial number of people who absorbed his words without a second thought. It was not long before a single argument between two tables spiralled into an all-out brawl. The man gulped the remainder of his coffee and quickly paid for his order to escape the mayhem that was unravelling before him. Speeding through the shadows at an inhuman pace, the man walked through the street as a wave of water before turning t...

It’s heartbreaking to see how news covering genocide and tyranny is drowned in the background while lies are brought to the forefront. Even uttering the word gets you shut down, locked behind unseen walls. Justice is always silenced by the powerful and the cruel. Even before our current invaders arrived, my homeland was ravaged at the hands of a former global superpower that started with one of their own neighbours, starving them and driving them apart until they became two nations. ‘Divide and Conquer’ has always been key to many conquests of the colonisers of this world. Once they had colonized the lands of the neighbours who were of similar race and religion, they set out to suffocate people of other races and religions under their feet, forcing their own ideals and laws upon them while robbing them of their cultures and identities. And so, generations of multiple nations were brainwashed into believing they were lesser than their enslavers—a misconception that was hidden behind the...

Can you imagine losing everyone you love in just a split second? One moment, you’re enjoying dinner with your family, you and your mom laughing at your dad sighing at another one of your brother’s bad jokes, and the next, fire rains from the skies, reducing everything around you to ash. You escape, gasping and crawling—barely clinging to what’s left of your life as your vision fades to black under a coat of blood. When you wake up, it’s not at a hospital, but at the ruins of a school that people have no other choice but to use at the time, all while still fearing that same merciless fire that seeks to erase us. You know full well it’s only a matter of time. You then learn from the mother of your now-deceased classmate that you’re the sole survivor of your household, a place that you may never see again. It hurts. The pain is more excruciating than the fractured stump that was once an arm, more than the swirling burns that were once a face. The shred of vision you have left leaves you s...

When does the cycle of colonisation end? My people have experienced it for over a century, with one party handing over the torch to another to burn our homes to the ground. The hypocrisy of the second party far overshadowed that of even their predecessor, for it was their people who came to us seeking refuge in times of war and persecution—when an international alliance sought to reign over other nations, deeming them as inferior races. However, what was even worse than the refugees’ hypocrisy was their treachery, not just towards us, but to many of their own people. A great number of them cooperated with the previous colonisers while they were living among us as equals, seeking to form a nation of their own by driving us out. As a result, they sent many of their own people to that supremacist alliance as nothing but lambs to the slaughter. Those blood sacrifices became the cornerstones upon which they began to build their empire, and soon, it would be them who would remove the masks t...

A great many call it “war”, but those with a clear lens know exactly what it is—genocide. Ever since the current invaders took over the lands stolen from us by their predecessors, we have faced endless firestorms that have claimed countless lives. The descending barrages took everything from us: our families, friends, homes, schools, fields… Each attack reduced our livelihoods to ash and displaced us further and further away from our homes, ensuring that we could never return. That is how the invaders secured more of our lands, with methods so indiscriminate and cruel. Decades into the slow evisceration of our people, the invaders, emboldened by the support of the “great” powers of the world, now seek to finish what they’ve started: they aim to wipe out the few of us who are left starving and homeless. Many of them have begun to claim the ruins of the towns and cities we once called home, renaming them as they see fit to make settlements for themselves. I wonder if they have any feelin...

The genocide began long before I was born, and hiding here in the ruins of my hometown, I’m left wondering whether it will ever end. The invaders that have been gradually eliminating us for decades have now expedited their goals to take away everything from us; in the past three months alone, I’ve lost more than I could count. My family, my friends, my neighbours… Many of them were lost within the billowing black smoke that stained the skies, or under the shattered ruins of our homes that surrounded the few of us that barely survived. It is difficult to believe that the very people whom my homeland welcomed decades ago are the same ones seeking to erase our identity and culture when they, too, faced the same threat all those years ago at the hands of an equally terrifying force. If there was one thing history was drenched in more than blood, it was irony. The harsh reality of some victims turning into terrorists themselves is a frightening phenomenon—one that I will never comprehend. Y...

Once upon a time, in a kingdom in the sky, lived a king, a queen, and a little princess called Anastasia. The princess would look down at the earth and wonder if there were kids like her there. Meanwhile, a lonely little prince would look up at the sky and ask the same question. One day, while the princess was playing in the clouds, she noticed the prince looking up and waved at him. However, the prince didn’t wave back; he just continued to stare at the sky. The confused princess went to her mother and said, “Mama, that prince down there is rude. He didn’t even wave back!” The queen smiled and cradled Anastasia in her arms. “No, honey, he just doesn’t see you.” “But he looked right at me.” “I assure you, he can’t see us even though we can see him. Our kingdom is enchanted.” “Can I go down sometime to play?” Anastasia asked. “Maybe when you’re a little older, honey.” The queen smiled and hugged the princess. Anastasia, however, was impatient. That night, while in bed, she wished to be ...

Once upon a time, there lived a king, a queen, and their beautiful baby boy, Prince Heath. They were very happy until, one day, the queen died of pneumonia. The saddened king soon took his grief out on the people around him. He imprisoned the royal physician for not being able to save the queen and was ruthless to his guards and servants. Anyone who made the slightest mistake was punished. The little prince, like most children, imitated his father, and a servant boy called John, who was his friend, bore the brunt of it. Prince Heath would make fun of the way the boy dressed, calling him a beggar while beating him. The king’s magician noticed this and decided to take action. “I can’t do anything about the king himself, but perhaps I could make the prince a better person,” he thought. And so, the magician switched the two boys’ bodies. Not knowing what had happened, the prince continued to bully John. The king, who was passing by at the time, slapped the boy who he thought was the servan...