Aviv's Short stories
I’m Aviv. Software engineer by day, sleeper by night, and somewhere in between, I write short stories. If you’re into that and a little messed up in the head, you might like it here. Enjoy!
Death, breath, stealth
Bob can see us
the construction of walnut mall
Death, breath, stealth
Breath. Stealth. This time, I’m getting that motherfucker. I crouch behind the corner, waiting for his goons to finally drive off. God, I hate that stinking rat piss stain - it’s worse tonight. They drive. I arrive. The bastard’s shitting himself. He should be. I’ve been preparing for this forever. He vaults the fence. I follow, using that busted hole I spotted earlier to haul myself up. He bolts toward the old diner. Place looks dead. Too dead. I push in - then bam, shot from behind the goddamn door.
Death.
Breath. Stealth.
A shot from behind the door? Pathetic. Rookie move. Maybe my senses are going dull from this GODDAMN RAT PISS STAIN! Focus. The goons are about to roll out again. They drive. I arrive. He jumps the fence, like clockwork, heading for the diner. How original. I burst through the door, catch him mid-step. His face - priceless. Eyes wide, brain scrambling, trying to figure out how the hell I found him. He chokes as my grip tightens around his neck. Desperate, he pulls a hidden knife, jabs it into my leg, and scrambles behind the counter.
I limp after him, but he’s already in position - BANG!
Death.
Breath. Stealth.
I swear to God, when this is over, I’m coming back here with a mop and bleach. This piss stain’s a crime against humanity. They drive. I arrive. Fence. Diner. Grip. I dodge the knife this time. So fucking close now. I can already hear the eulogy: “Good afternoon, everyone! Actually… best afternoon!” Gonna be great. He’s fading, about to black out, when - CRASH. A car barrels through the diner wall. His goons. They drag me off him and start pounding me into the floor. Fists, boots, blood. Shit. Next time’s gonna be rough. How the hell am I getting out of this one? My head’s already checking out.
Death.
Breath. Stealth. Fence. Diner. Grip. Goons. More goons.
Death.
Breath. Stealth. Diner. More goons. Terror attack.
Death.
Breath. Stealth. Diner. Oh fuck I forgot about the knife.
Death.
Breath. Stealth. Fuck I’m tired.
Death. Breath. Stealth.
Death. Breath. Stealth.
Death. Breath. Stealth.
bob can see us
Bob can see Antonio and Trevor.
“Yo bro, she here?” Trevor asked, glancing down at the stocky, tanned man. “Yeah, man. Grabbing her now.” Antonio popped the Mustang’s trunk. A tall, blonde woman - smeared mascara, wrists tied - screamed and struggled as he dragged her out. Trevor slid his sunglasses off with one meaty hand, tucking them into his jacket. “She fresh?” “All but the mouth,” Antonio snickered, licking his upper lip. “Five G’s?” Antonio affirmed. Trevor felt a sudden cold draft on his neck. His stomach dropped. “Dude… let’s go. I think Bob’s watching.” Without another word, both men bolted for their cars, peeling away, leaving the woman bound in the shadows.
Bob can see Ray Seaborn.
“Mr. Seaborn! Mr. Seaborn, are the allegations true?” a reporter shouted, cameras flashing. Ray and his agent kept their heads down, following a narrow, roped-off path toward the hotel’s side entrance. “I spoke to the IRS,” the agent said quietly. Ray grabbed his shoulder, desperate. “And?!” “The deal’s on. Off the record. Just us and them. Semi-legal… but it’s the cleanest way out.” Ray let out a relieved laugh, tossing back his thick, shoulder-length hair to reveal a perfect, gleaming smile. “Amazing. We going now?” The agent paled. “No.” He swallowed hard, glancing at the empty air behind them. “Bob’s here.” Ray’s grin froze. “Sorry, Ray. Looks like it’s prison after all.”
Bob can see Tabitha.
“I fucking hate you!” Tabitha screamed, slamming the door. Her phone buzzed. “Tabs, you out yet?” Amy yelled through the speaker. “No. My mom’s breeding bull caught me swiping cash for the party. I’m grounded.” “So use the fire ladder or something!” Tabitha froze. A chill crept up her spine. “Tabs? You there?” “I’ll skip this one, Ames,” she whispered. “Bob’s here.” The line went dead.
Bob can see us. Human trafficking. Tax evasion. Sneaking out to parties. Masturbating. Worshipping Satan. Reading weird short stories online. He’s always there, watching. Silent. He doesn’t like bad behavior - no matter how small. The lies. The petty thefts. The stolen glances. All of it’s a stain. We don’t know who he is or what he wants, but we feel him. Maybe he keeps us from crossing a line, or maybe he’s just a reminder that no action goes unnoticed.
Bob can see us.
The Construction of Walnut Mall
"I’ve been here for quite some time. And let me tell you, most of it’s been pretty exciting. At first, everything was completely lifeless. No complex life forms like you yet. Well - maybe 'lifeless' is a bit of an exaggeration, since the most beautiful plants lived back then. See that orange tree? Right where you’re sitting, there used to be a tree just like that - only five hundred times bigger! Man, those fruits could’ve killed a rhino if they landed on its head. Everything was simple, peaceful, and I was full of tranquility.
Then I started seeing lizard-like beings… cute little fellas. It felt like no time at all to me, but those dudes evolved into sizes I could hardly believe. Unlike the plants, I could see them act - putting their own favor above others, looking out for their own wealth. But they were never cruel. Don’t get me wrong, they’d bite your fucking arm off in a second if you annoyed them or crossed a line, but they wouldn’t savor watching you suffer. It stressed me out a little, sure - but there was something majestic tangled up in it all.
Then your great-great-great something to the power of forty grandpa showed up. And I thought to myself - nature is cruel, man. How did it make a monkey that ugly? Took me about a day to realize I couldn’t let its looks deceive me. This guy was the smartest of them all. So smart, in fact, that surviving wasn’t enough for him. He wanted much, much more. Dude actually fucked everything, ate more than he needed, toyed with smaller creatures just for fun. It was super interesting. But for the first time, I was afraid.
The rest of time flew by like I was on drugs or something. It’s like everything turned dark after that. Eighteen-year-olds sent off to war, women raped in front of their kids, fatass bastards dying at thirty-three - just like some poor African dude suffering from the opposite condition, same age. Everything, all of a sudden, was super fucked up. Man… what I wouldn’t give to go back to the days when the scariest thing was a giant orange falling on your head. I was terrified.
When I thought it couldn’t get worse, it happened - mundanity. All the terrible shit happening around didn’t surprise anyone anymore. They got so addicted to dopamine, they had to invent little devices to feed them content twenty-four-seven just so they wouldn’t lose their minds. They’d hear awful things, and five minutes later they’d be back to work, or talking about some pointless bullshit. Well… not much more to say. That’s pretty much where we are now. And now - now I’m feeling the worst I’ve ever felt. Hopeless."
"Cool story, Mr. Rock! I gotta get back to construction. Man, thank god I had that color painting video playing next to you so I could actually listen. Bye!" said the builder, heading back to his group after lunch.