The Destiny of Debt
A short story written by Matt Gardner with PlotWeaver: Cards of Creation, a storytelling game made by Mod Hob Cooperative.
This story uses a Non-Linear Plot Pattern, written in 15-minute timed acts with all story cards drawn at random. For more information, visit www.plotweavergame.com
Act 1: Disjointed Events or Perspectives
Story Element Cards: The Jester, The Villain, Office Building, Asian Temple, and Magic Realism
20:14 - The 42nd Floor
The air in the executive suite smells like cologne and fear. I’m sitting in the CEO’s chair, my combat boots kicked up on a desk carved from a single piece of obsidian. My parents named me Stacey, but the dark web knows me as ‘The Jester’, the girl who laughs at firewalls. My laptop is plugged directly into the ‘Heart of the Beast,’ a server rack that looks like an altar.
On my screen, millions of rows of debt are flickering. I’m not just deleting numbers; I’m watching them vanish. Behind me, the office building groans. The filing cabinets are rattling, their drawers sliding open and shut like chattering teeth. The corporate greed is so heavy it’s warping the gravity.
08:14 - The Temple of Ten Thousand Wishes.
On the other side of the world, the CEO of a major credit card company stands in the centre of a temple. He’s a man who measures his soul in interest rates. It is tranquil here, humming with the low chants of the monks, but he isn’t praying; instead, he stares at a golden koi in a pond.
The water in the pond starts to boil. The koi don’t die, but transform into plastic credit cards, floating lifelessly on the surface. He reaches down to touch one, and his fingers come away stained with the same black ink that currently runs through his veins. He doesn’t need an alert to know he is being violated.
20:20 - The 42nd Floor
I cackle as the ‘Total Debt’ counter hits zero. The lights of the skyscraper go out, but the room is suddenly illuminated by hundreds of ‘Worry-Beads’ the CEO kept in a glass jar on his desk. They’ve begun to glow a soft, spiritual blue, spinning in the air like a localized galaxy. I grab a handful of the glowing beads and toss them into my bag.
“Interest-free, pal,” I whisper to the empty room. The bland walls of the office are starting to dissolve, replaced by the scent of incense and the sound of distant temple bells. The two worlds are folding in on each other, and I’m right in the crease.
Act 2: Events Connect or Merge
Story Element Cards: Free Will vs. Destiny
Time unknown - The 42nd Floor
As I stand in the dark of the 42nd floor, the floorboards ripple like water. Suddenly, the CEO, stained in black ink and gasping for air, tumbles out of the obsidian desk as if he’s just emerging from a lake of oil.
He looks at me, his eyes wide with confusion. He thought he’d secured his destiny, especially with the deals he’s made. “It was written,” he wheezes, pointing at the server altar. “The debt... it’s the gravity of our world. You can’t erase it. You will destroy everything we have built… our entire system.”
“Watch me,” I retort, my fingers flying over the keys. I am the only thing that’s real in this room. I’m not just fighting a company; I’m fighting for billions of lives.
As I hit the final confirmation code, I find that I am no longer in the skyscraper. A temple flickers around me. The monks’ chants vibrate the server rack and the laptop. We are caught between his belief in fate and my irreverent refusal to accept his world. The black ink on his skin begins to crawl toward me as I wait for confirmation that the code landed. It will finally show these greedy pricks who really holds the power. It’s not the few anymore; the many will be free.
Act 3: Final Intersection or Connection
Story Element Cards: Corrupted Path
The ink on the CEO’s skin seeps off him, dries, and stains the floor. He stands, smoothing his wrinkled suit, his voice regaining that oily, persuasive cunning. “Stacey... that’s your name, right? Look at the beads. Look at the power you’re holding. You don’t have to destroy the system to save the people. You could be the system. I can give you accounts that never run dry, a life where ‘zero’ is just a starting point for your own wealth.”
I let my hands fall from the keyboard as I stare at the shimmering light of the worry-beads, then back at him. I offer a slow, irreverent grin. “All the riches? No more dark web scraps?” I lean in. “Tell me more about these accounts.”
He smiles, thinking he’s found my price. He walks me through the digital backdoors, showing me the hidden vaults of the elite, while the background flickers between the temple and the office, bleeding into one another. I nod, I linger, I play along, waiting for the one thing he can’t see: the ‘silent transfer complete’ progress bar at the bottom of my HUD.
The ping finally hits my neural-link.
The CEO’s face contorts as he sees that no riches will shake me from my true path. The skyscraper doesn’t just lose power; it dissolves into static. The temple bells let out one final, deafening chime that shatters the glass.
Suddenly, the weight of the obsidian desk is gone. The scent of old dust and lavender laundry soap replaces the smell of cologne and fear. I blink, and I’m no longer ‘The Jester’ in a 42nd-floor suite. I’m sitting on my childhood twin-sized bed with a floral comforter. My hands are smaller, free of the tattoos I had etched into my skin.
I look at the calendar on the wall: May 2016. That was a decade ago, I thought. I am ten years younger, back before I went to school and got so deep in debt.
My actions didn’t just delete the debt; they deleted the last decade of the Downfall. I’ve been sent back to the start of the cycle, but this time, I’m the one with the manual.
"The corporate greed is so heavy it’s warping the gravity," wow. I love the way you write!
Love how you connected this high-stakes vibe with a deeply personal message.