Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
Bonus idea: The process will kill if it fails...	[WP] A freak accident turned a man immortal. Now he tries desperately to replicate the event for someone else, so he won't end up alone for eternity.	[ "The Disk wasn’t supposed to revolve that day. It needed more basic testing before it should’ve been turned on. A black, round device, studded with small wires slithering inside. To induce low fields for the coils inside. He was there, late at night, preparing a report for the following morning, dried coffee mug on his cluttered desk. A picture of her adorned one of the corners, her radiant smile reminding him of the day they had met in the shade of the trees by the lake. The room hummed. He stopped writing and looked towards the table in the middle, the Disk cradled on its spindly stilts. It started spinning internally, the hum growing ever louder. A bright flash lit up the room.\n\nAt first he hadn’t noticed anything different. He felt a bit sore, but the Geiger meter registered no radioactivity, and the doctor told him the next day that it was likely fatigue from his research. That he should take a break. Something was off, but he couldn’t quite understand what. A week had passed, and the project was going well, the presentation having granted him more money to pursue the study of the Disk. Usually, he shaved in the morning, but for some reason his face was devoid of any stubbles. Odd, but more time to do other stuff, he thought. He went downstairs to prepare the breakfast. She was still asleep, tired from her late shift, and he covered some French toast he had prepared with a bag and left her a note. She would call him around noon to catch up. \n\nHe added a new picture on his desk, from a recent vacation along the coast, the two of them looking at the camera with a smooth, creamy sea behind them. Despite some progress, the Disk had not given up its secrets, and had been inert for years. Her hair was a duller shine, a few hesitant lines contouring her beaming smile. Strange. Horror gripped his mind, as he rushed to the mirror in the lavatory. His hair was still dark and shining, and not a single hint of a new beard, as if time had stood still. And not even a random flu in a very long time. No. It couldn’t be possible. It took all those years to notice. What if it was too late?\n\nHe now understood what the effect of the Disk was, or at least had a very good idea. He didn’t age, he still retained a youthful appearance, and swept the compliments about his appearance without any real care for them. He returned next to the Disk that held the answer. Noon. The phone rang, and he jumped in surprise. Yet he stood there, his legs petrified, his gaze running along the equations scribbled on the blackboards. Ending on the photo. The phone stopped ringing. \n\nActivating the Disk carried a great risk, and he felt a bit selfish for what he wanted to try to do. But he couldn’t leave her behind, he couldn’t live without him next to her side, without her next to his. It had to be done in complete secrecy. What he had discovered after the flash, many years ago, were shiny streaks running along the object, that weren’t there when he first began his research. He chalked it up to permanent damage, and slowed down the testing until it could be remedied. Unsure of what might happen a second time, he remained inside the room for a whole week, running various experiments and simulations. What if he were to be affected again? What if the Disk were to fail, or induce a different effect? Tirelessly, he peered over the models, refined them, changed the constants, introduced new wiring. They spent New Year’s in the deserted cafeteria, his tired eyes gazing at her. Still beautiful, after so many years, heading for the certainty of Nature’s resolve. And him, defying that very Nature. Yet he stood silent about his plan.\n\nHe visited her daily at the care home, where she was lying on a bed with white linens. She hated that bland arrangement, and he brought her flowers to colour the colourless walls. There had been arguments about what had been happening to him, how he never seemed to age, and he became increasingly isolated, firing all his research staff to keep a low profile, the Disk project abandoned with the room and building sold to an anonymous patron. Time and time again, he promised her that he would change things. A tear rolled down his cheek as gazed at her grey hair and sad eyes, eyes that he so vividly remembered as being vibrant and full of energy. As if it was yesterday. More work to be done for the night, he felt that he was nearing the end of the search, he would be successful, although at a heavy price. The wheelchair was waiting to transport her, all was set, it wouldn’t be long.\n\nThe phone rang, but he ignored it, his mind delved in the simulation. He had found a way to get responses from the Disk, and without damaging it. All he needed now was to bring her in the room and use the right amount of power. He had succeeded, he knew it would work, it had to work, he had spent all his waking time on that Disk, and now it was finally ready. Someone knocked at the door. Someone had entered the closed building and was knocking on the glass, a dark silhouette behind it. He opened the door, furious that someone would disturb his work. A nurse, a thin, young woman, out of breath. She told him of her, how she had told the nurse to call, to summon him to her linen bed, by the flowers. That she had passed away peacefully in her sleep, calling out his name. He told the nurse, in a hoarse, breathless voice, that he wanted to be left alone for a few moments, and the woman exited the room. Yellowed picture of the couple in hand, he collapsed, warm tears falling on the dusty floorboards. The Disk whined slowly, then shattered. \n", "I serve the food while sticking feather under their noses.\n\nI work hard at trying to convince the cook to put more black pepper in all the food.\n\nSodas are now complimentary. \n\nBut nothing works.\n\nI've tried tampering with the food, but no one gets indigestion, it's all futile. I cry.\n\nI've waited tables for longer than our current manager has worked, I've had no raises whatsoever. These people, they're not cruel, nor malevolent. But one needs to be punished, just so my curse may be softened ever so slightly.\n\nI don't want anyone to suffer, unfortunately the person I want to suffer the least is myself. But everywhere I go, no matter how long I wait, no one else does it.\n\nMy curse is endless.\n\nNo one else sneezes, burps and hiccups at the same time.", "\"No Virginia...that's not right. Watch me.\" James leap off the ledge and right onto the corner of a dumpster outside an Indian restaurant. The corner impaled him. Virginia gasped in horror at James' guts being all over the walls and his flinching body just kept flicking like a circuit that could quite make it around. \"You see now? You have to land right on your heart. That way the bacteria and the curry can seep into your wounds and increase your immune system ten fold. At least that's what I think is going on but, I'm just a vet tech.\"\n\n\"I don't know about this James...\" \n\n\"Just fall right onto my blood marks! The curry cured my autoimmune disease too so you'll be fine! Jump Virginia jump!\" The girl leapt into the air. The angle was right but they hadn't adjusted for a difference in height and weight. Her head ran right into the corner- killing her instantly. James ran over coddling her head. \n\n\"Oh shit! Not another one!\" He looked around, no one was near. James pulled her head off the corner and pushed it down into the dumpster. There were four or five other bodies in there as well. Virginia was just another attempt, you'd think he would've learned by now. \n\nJames pulled out a small pocket knife and sliced off a nice juicy piece of Virginia's arm. He smelled it, then licked it. \"At least I have lunch for later now.\" James let the dumpster lid fall, sealing in the death. He walked with a rhythm, he started to hum \"Its a Small World\" as he left the alley. Just before turning the corner he leaped and clicked his heels together. Now he just had to find dinner.\n\nEdit: punctuation", "“...radio,” a voice breaks into the haze. Jonathan slowly pries one gummed-up eyelid apart from another. His right cheek is cold, his pinky finger feels like it’s been slept on, the lights are too damn bright and there’s a crick in his neck.\n\nOh shit. He’s at work.\n \nTall, thin, with thick curls of short white hair, a man stands in front of his counter. If the customer were any more impatient, he would be tapping his foot onto the thin grimy carpet, but he stands there, watching the seconds pass as Jonathan gets his face off the glass display case.\n\n“I’m sorry, welcome to Radio Shack, how may I help you?” Jonathan rubs at the spot where his nametag pressed into his chest as he slept.\n\n“Do you sell radios?”\n\n“Uh,” says Jonathan, “yeah. They’re over there on the back shelf.”\n\n“No,” the customer says, leaning over the counter, face drawing near Jonathan, “radios. With the tubes.”\n\n“This is Radioshack,” Jonathan says. Old people are weird. It’s like that time that grandma came in looking for something to connect the show to her phone. That’s not a thing, grandma. That’s never been a thing.\n\n“Yes. Do you have radios with the tubes?”\n\nThe customer’s hands curl into fists, the wrinkles on his skin stretch out and Jonathan can see where the still-smooth patches are on the back of his hands.\n\n“We don’t,” Jonathan says, “we don’t have them here. You might want to try an antique store or something.”\n\n“I’ve tried them,” the customer says, voice raising and cracking, “I’ve tried them, and tried them, and tried them, but they’re all wrong. They’re not the same. They don’t look the same.” The customer’s hands tremble, he begins to sway, head drooping towards the countertop and Jonathan starts reaching for the mace that he knows Stacy from the afternoon shift keeps under the notebooks in case of creeps.\n\n“Tried, sir?” Gotta get him to focus on something else. Gotta have the element of surprise. Gotta get 'em when they're not expecting it.\n\n“I’ve tried everything. They’re not the same. It doesn’t work. I can’t find one, I’ve been looking, you don’t know how long I’ve been looking. I just need it to work. Someone. Anyone. Anything.”\n\nThe customer slowly raises his head, looks Jonathan in the eye, then lunges forward to grab him by the collar of his red polo shirt.\n\nAs Jonathan sprays mace into his face, the old man with the terrified eyes whispers, “Kill me.”\n\n“Please.”", "'Now for an exclusive look, we will actually enter the lair of the Cereal Killer. It is in this very living room that authorities suspect the crime was committed. Look at this dining table right here, this was where the victims would have had their final meals.\n\nNow, here in this store room was where the bodies were found. A burglar broke in three months back only to find eight bodies, all vacuumed sealed. The bodies belonged to his closest family and friends. Each victim was killed differently. Some were choked to death and others were stuffed till their stomach burst from the inside. But the one common denominator was the use of cereal.\n\nNow as we enter the bedroom, get a good look of the wall. 'Was it the cereal?' This is how our killer, Beff Long, got the title of the Cereal Killer. These enigmatic words painted in red, is the only clue we have before he disappeared. This obviously reflects an unstable mind and he is still at large so we recommend...'\n\n*\n\nWas it the cereal? No, it couldn't have been something so simple. But that was the only thing new in my life that day. The cereal was a different brand sure but there must be thousands of others eating the same damn cereal. Well, I did choke on the cereal. Everyone was out and I blacked out for a while. Maybe it was the blacking out. But I'm sure Jessie and Judy would disagree, it did nothing for them.\n\n'You look stressed,' said Nic.\n\n'I just can't figure it out. It must have been the cereal.'\n\n'With enough time, nothing matters really. And honestly, no one here ever figured out either,' Nic said as he pushed through the double doors.\n\nTrue. Anyway, I no longer have anyone I'd want to live forever with. I've exhausted all my options. \n\nI walked into the room and introduced myself. 'I am Beff Long, and I am an Immortal.'\n\nEveryone in the circle clapped. \n\n----\nMore mind farts at seeyounextdoomsday.wordpress.com", "When he discovered he couldn't die, he tried to imagine his wife aging. He thought he would be sad and lonely without her. He had imagined the histrionics, the keenly pained looks they would exchange, tears dripping off their faces to mingle on crisp white bedsheets. In reality he grew more and more disgusted with her.\n\nHe sincerely tried not to be grossed out by her papery skin. He tried to sit with her in their rocking chairs on the porch, but couldn't find anything new about the horizon to discuss after a couple decades. Her mind started to go, eventually, and all their shared history seemed to mean nothing, and soon all he could think about was how godawful boring it was to watch someone else age, even someone you had loved for so long.\n\nWhen her eyes finally closed forever, he was relieved. He was tired of pretending to be her grandson, and then her great-grandson. Glad to leave the town they'd settled in, where the old women admired him for his devotion before they succumbed to the same fate; all the while he had to see the young people all around him come into bloom, and not touch them. Now he was free to start over.\n\nIn his new life, he watched an endless supply of young women's perfect bodies bloom into womanhood. They really are like flowers, he thought: their bodies were like plants whose entire life cycles were filmed and then sped up for his viewing. They grew and grew, their faces turned to the sun, and soon they erupted with life, pregnant with babies, possibilities. The seeds of life inside them were expelled and new flowers bloomed as they withered. Watching that process fascinated him, for a time. He fucked them, too, and for a time there was joy in that.\n\nBut soon enough he wanted a companion. He watched a girl mature and then insinuated himself into her life. He liked her quite a bit, and he confided in her, and she married him with her eyes wide open. He had chosen a hearty mate this time, and they cavorted together for well over fifty years. He was kinder to her, in his mind, and forgave her slowing joints and the flab that eventually settled on her formerly taut body. Her mind and eyes were clear, and he cherished her as her body began to fail. But she eventually left him, too. She knew about his first wife, and the obligation he had felt to her, and she asked him to end her life. She would not fade away in the night like his first wife had - but he thought he would never forget the fear in her eyes, how she wrestled with it, as he held the gun under her chin.\n\nAfter he buried her, he didn't know what to do. This period of his life he devoted to exploration. First he saw everything he hadn't seen yet: the poles, the jungle, peaks, caves, catacombs. He spent a few miserable years stuck in a claustrophobic hole in the ground, until he was finally found by a few curious spelunkers. They helped him out, but he had to kill them to keep his secret. Those deaths left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and he decided not to kill again. It was then that he stopped eating. \n\nThen for a time he became obsessed with leaving Earth, but it was a futile effort unless he wanted to build his own ship, which was a complicated craft that he didn't have the patience for. He considered surrendering to some government or other, thinking that it might be nice to be understood, but he knew they would have questions he couldn't answer. He did not often feel pain, but he thought if anyone could hurt him, it would be a bureaucrat. And anyway, his favorite government soon toppled, and lawlessness governed his homeland.\n\nHe founded something like a commune, and came to think of the orphans who trickled into his care as something closer to pets than fellow people. He didn't hide his affliction from them, and they called him a god. Men and women infiltrated his borders and tried to slit his throat, and he laughed at the tickling of the knives. Once an enemy of his, whose name he would forget, bombed what he was fondly calling the Farm. The immortal man walked into his enemy's camp and killed them all, and this time he felt satisfied.\n\nHe rebuilt the Farm with a more martial eye, and built an army. He expanded his territory by walking toward his enemies and dispatching them in whatever manner was available to him, only running into trouble when they restrained him, or if they managed to hole up where he couldn't get to them. His army followed behind, and he allowed them to do whatever they liked. Eventually he met a force that he couldn't overpower easily, and instead of leading his army into battle, he simply left. He heard later that most everyone died.\n\nHe simply walked now. Planes and cars had fallen into disuse, and he disdained bicycles, preferring to move as slowly as possible. He sometimes met people, but didn't want their company. He made a movement suggesting he'd kill them, and they mostly chose to flee.\n\nSoon he came to the ocean. It was a lazy river to him, and he floated along the currents, leisurely, alone. He met no boats. When he finally ran aground on a new continent, he couldn't find a soul. He wondered what had happened to his race, and went days and then months without setting eyes on another person. Eventually he grew frantic, and his dreamlessness felt like a new sort of madness. He began to see the people he had killed everywhere. His wives, the jolly explorers, his enemies, his armies of innocents. They looked back at him with accusing eyes, weeping eyes, with anger and sometimes forgiveness. He felt the most human he had ever felt.\n\nFinally, as he paced the equator, he found a little village of sickly humans. He called himself god, but couldn't speak to them. He didn't know their language and desperately tried to pick it up – every day his heart pounded: he was afraid they were the last humans, and that they would die before he spoke to them. The men feared him and held their wives close. He didn't realize how he looked to them, with his tall thick body, born in a nutritious age. Only the children would have anything to do with him, and he learned their high-pitched tones and played with them, and felt happy again for a short while.\n\nBut they were dying: poisoned, injured, deformed. The women tried to flower but their babies were too often born dead, and as often as not a man buried two thin bodies, with a little tiny baby nestled in the crook of the mother's still arm. It seemed that this would be humanity's final resting place. Sometimes at night he thought about his second wife, and he imagined pulling the trigger on this throat and burying these last humans, but when he saw the sun rise he forgot the bloody past and couldn't see life without them. He imagined the histrionics, his pain, living without them. He imagined burying them, and watching the sun set without them.\n\nThe last human was a little girl. After he buried the girl's father, she sickened, and he beat his chest and bashed his head against the wall of the mud hut, trying to remember how it had happened, what had changed, what was allowing him to survive them. He tore at his hair when she closed her eyes, and he wept when he returned to her, to listen to her ragged breathing. He held her close, trying to will his life into her lungs. He would die for her, if he could. He closed his eyes to the sunrise one more time, and he counted their breaths. He was grateful for every one of them." ]	6
	[WP] Make the reader feel sympathy for an object or person you wouldn't normally feel anything for	[ "Nobody thinks twice about dish washing sponges. We press them into our leftover filth and expect them to remove our messes. No one shows any emotion to the poor sponge as we rub dish washing liquid all over it and repeatedly ram and squeeze the fluid coated sponge against uncomfortable surfaces just so they sparkle. \n\nWhat do we do when the sponge loses its luster? After it has had enough of us grating, grinding and squishing them. It tries to hang tough, to please its masters by beating themselves up to remove grime. All for what? Its redundancy package is to be tossed in the bin with the crap it has been cleaning all of its life!\n\nI bet if we swapped shoes with our dutiful sponge, we would commit suicide in a few days!", "I am attached with a weird rope that goes through a wall. I live on top of a brown platform, it is really cozy. If I get furious or if someone pushes my button, I light up with anger. I am always getting shocked and when I get shocked I also light up with anger. If I knew how to speak I would probably tell the humans I don’t need to be on all the time. You see if my bulb burns, I pretty much die, a new bulb takes over my body and I am tossed out. I am just a lamp waiting for the day my light goes out.", "Many people are excited when buying it. It's like a new start or a fresh adventure. I remember when I moved into my new apartment and I saw the awful wallpaper (all white with red roses), I knew it couldn't stay that way. So I was excited about making this place mine by giving it my own look and atmosphere. So I covered the floor and put on my dirtiest clothes and made this place resemble me.\n\nI remember when I was young and I got it as a gift for Christmas. I couldn't wait to get started, so my mother gave me some paper and I put on so much that in the end it was all just grey. But that didn't matter because every new paper was a new start of a new adventure that often ended in grey but that didn't mean that the process wasn't interesting.\n\nOnce with friends we bought these really big cheap tubes and sprayed it around on each other while wrestling. We laughed the entire time and even though the result was grass in all colours. It's a good memory of silly times and friendship.\n\nIt always starts of excitement for colour and result only limited by imagination and maybe some skill. It's youth, it's play, it's possibility and joy that is until you stop. Once you stop all the possibility goes away, it crystallises into it's final form never to be able to change again. It stays just the way you leave it. From there it's mature, it's no longer joy, it's no longer fun and excitement. It becomes a decoration or a message open for interpretation, but almost always serious business. \n\nIt reminds me of us,as a baby so full of potential and joy, shaped by the people around us until we reach a mature form. Potential somehow becomes realisation and excitement become seriousness. The best you can hope for is to be a piece of art that shows what fun you had.", "My throat stings as I cough up the harsh shot. I could take a dozen of these back in College and not flinch, but here I am, the earth ready to come down around me and soldiers about to break down my door. At least, not for a few more hours.\nMy wife, my hostage, played along so well. Always wrapped up in my mystery and plotting. I only knew her for a few short years, but she did everything right. Right up until I murdered her too. At least the drink took hold of her quickly. I wanted to tell her the truth. It kills me to have tricked her with the toast... But it had to be done just right.\n\nThe clock hands tick by as I wait for my queue. I pray that the billion lives I will save out ways the sins of the millions I snuffed out. I suppose it must have worked because I didn't get a pink slip. I can rest well knowing I did my job. I have a meaning. \n\nStaring at a clock makes time go by more slowly. I stroke my mustache as I wait. Stupid little thing. I've always hated mustaches. I smile knowing that in a few hours, it will burn away with the rest of the evidence of who I am. Burned by more damned people I tricked. If I could have one wish, it would be for the world to know me as the worlds best con man, but the 20th century needs a villain. A Lesser Evil. \n\nI'm proud to serve my country. It would just be nice if it wouldn't take three hundred years to be recognized for it. Oh well, The agency knows what they are doing and I lived a good life up till deployment. I was ready to go then, and I am ready to go now. \n\nClocks about ready to chime. Time to pull the trigger and end Adolf Hitler." ]	4
	[WP] Writing Prompt. You find yourself in your favorite video game as the protagonist. The only catch, you're you. None of the training, equipment or skills of that protagonist.	[ "I wake up in damp and dirty cell in what I can only describe as a medieval prison. As I stand, my head hits a rusty shackle hanging near me and I drop back down to the floor. Laughter sounds across the hall from me in an opposite cell, echoing off every wall in the building and back at me. \n\n\"Pale skin, snotty expression. You're a Breton! The masters of magicka, right?\" I tune out the next few words as I try to understand the first ones. A what and a who? I shake my head, thinking I must obviously be imagining it. I look down at my hands, but they still look the same, if a bit dirtier.\n\"...stuck-up harlot with cheap parlor tricks. Go ahead, try your magicka in here. Let's see you make those bars disappear. No? What's the matter? Not so powerful now, are you Breton?\" I stand up again, offended by a voice that I had easily recalled but didn't believe I was hearing. \n\n\"Is that Valen fucking Dreth? Breton?\" I murmured. I looked myself over. I suppose it was the easiest conclusion to come to, based on my appearance. My eyes scanned the room again, oddly pleased with what I as seeing. \"So, this would be Oblivion with amazing graphics. Well, real life graphics I guess.\" \n\n\"Hey, you hear that? The guards are coming...for you! He he he he he he.\" I backed away from the cell door and over to the table with the clay pots. Despite everything I was seeing, my heart was pounding. I knew Oblivion, and I loved it. My introduction to the Elder Scrolls. I already knew how this was going to play out. But, I didn't feel any different. I was still scrawny with no sword or armor training and I could barely see since I didn't have my glasses. Not even an ounce of magicka in my veins to make up for it! \n\nAnd then I saw him. My whole body shuddered. Uriel Septim VII, the Emperor of Tamriel. He and his entourage of Blades were approaching my cell at a hasty pace, ready to begin my tutorial that would ultimately end in the Emperor's demise. All I could think was, \"Fuck, Valen's right. I'm gonna die in here.\"", "It's cold and wet. A faint light shines through the ceiling. I don't know how long i have been in this cell, nor how i got here in the first place.\n\nI just am here.\n\nI feel like I am dead. I look dead. My skin is rotting away and my muscles are deteriorating.\n\nBut i can move. \n\nMy lungs still work and i can feel my heart pulsating just below the thin, rotting skin.\n\nWhat happened to me?\n\nI feel all my memories slowly slipping away from my mind. I recall being sick. Cursed. Needed a cure. Set out on a journey to find it.\n\nAs i try to cling to the memories of my loved ones, my family, as i see their faces and features slowly melt away from my mind, a shadow from above moves away from my sight. I notice a key on the cell floor.\n\nI feel conflicted. Haven't the motivation to even move. That key could be the exit from this cell. But I don't even care. I feel blissfull in here. It isn't so bad. No hunger, no thirst, no pain. Besides, who knows what dangers await me outside? No, it's too risky.\n\n...\n\nBut maybe there is an answer to all of this. And maybe that anwser is somewhere beyond these walls.\n\nI get up. And it feels like i used my legs for the first time in a thousand years.\nI grab the only thing in this cell that resembles a weapon. A broken sword. I pick up the key, i put it in the cell door lock and turn it.\n\nThe cell door unlocks.\n\nAs i roam through the wet and dark corridor, i see other beings. Is that what i look like?\n\nI try talking to them, but no answer. They seem completely hollow of all reason. Like they lost their humanity.\n\nAs i reach a small, open courtyard, i see a tiny bonfire in the center. It's not quite dead, as if it is waiting for someone or something to revive it once more. \n\nLike me. \n\nI approach the bonfire, and as i try to confort myself on the remaining flames, the bonfire is kindled and its flames rage anew, but soon calm down to a soothing and warming flame.\n\nI feel reinvigorated. For the first time in who knows how long, i feel hope and strength enter my soul and body. I now know, i feel what i must do.\n\nI have to get out of here. This place reeks of despair and regret.\n\nI rise, leaving the flames behind, and walk to a giant, ornate, wooden door. I push. It takes my entire strength and willpower, but the door finally opens, revealing a large, decaying cathedral. \n\nAs i approach the center of the hall, a giant, grotesque demon wielding what looks like a giant hammer jumps from the ceiling, slamming down into the ground in front of me, impeding my progress. It promptly swings its weapon down at me, and i barely roll away from the attack.\n\nWhat can i do against this monstrosity? Is this the end?\n\nIt cannot be like this. My journey has just begun. I will not allow it to end now. I regained composure, grasped firmly my broken weapon, and did the only thing i could do.\n\nI ran.\n\n\n\nEDIT: Fixing small grammatical errors and rephrasing of certain sentences.", "I found myself strapped to a seat in a small, brass room. I lifted my eyes from the black and white tiled floor. There was a heavy metal door with a window in front of me. To my left there was a lever. My curiosity always gets the best of me in these situations. Not that I'm on this sort of situation often or anything. I push the lever down. The entire room rumbled as I noticed water filling up outside of the window.\n\nI knew what was happening. I had seen this before. This must have happened after beating the odds in infinity. The room, or pod, descended down into the depths. Passing light, after light. I knew the horrors I was going to endure, but I didn't believe this could really be happening. I started to breakdown in my seat. I couldn't handle it. \"Would you kindly wake up, would you kindly wake up, would you kindly wake.\" I kept mutter to my self. The pod had finally stopped. My restraints popped off. I opened the door. I saw a giant, golden statue of a man looking down at me. Hanging from it a sign that boasted \"No gods or kings\".\n\nThw next room was nearly pitch black. I heard the loud, haunting howl and the sound of metal grinding along the ground. \"Splicers...\" I muttered. \"Would you kindly wake up. Would you kindly wake up.\"", "I woke up to the sounds of keys unlocking some distant door with a loud clank. Obviously the person had no intention to be discreet. I shift around in my bed dreading the humidity in my room, it makes me sweat like a pig. I groaned at the fact that my air-conditioner could be broken as I continued sweating bullets. I opened my eyes to see how late into the afternoon I was sleeping till today. Well, let's just say I got one hell of a rude awakening; I found myself inside a prison cell. \n\nI jolted to my feet and took a good look around. Lucid dreaming? Never experienced a single one before and am pretty sure I wasn't experiencing one now so how am I to make sense of this? The prison cell was disgustingly old fashioned. Made out of stone and the bars were badly rusted. The unacceptable excuse of a bed I was sleeping on a few moments ago was made out of animal fur and looked like a camping bed. A torch was lit and burning radiantly and I cursed it as it was the reason I am perspiring profusely. I didn't notice until I realized how prickly the clothes I was wearing were but they looked like rags some low-class citizen in the medieval age would be wearing. \n\nThe first thought that popped up in my mind was the episode of SpongeBob whereby they were having a medieval knight event and SpongeBob got time-jousted to the middle ages. But I didn't do any extreme sports that could send me flying. If anything, I was just a studious boy in Singapore trying to make my parents proud about my grades. I did indulge in some fun every night. I would always lie to my parents that I would be studying so that they wouldn't bother me, but I was secretly playing Skyrim on my computer. I enjoyed every second of that game. Living the life of a chosen one that had the luxury and freedom of travelling the world and experiencing everything it had to offer from dragon shouts, to giants pummeling you and even pickpocketing clothes off people. It always amused me how they didn't realize I just stripped their clothes off. I loved the game because I could do whatever I wanted. I recollected my thoughts. I had to make sense of the situation I was in. Questions flooded my head. Why am I in prison? Did my parents send me to prison? Did they find out I lied to them about studying? Did they delete my save files? I couldn't answer any of these questions. I walked to the prison bars to peek out and gather information about my surroundings. Everything looked ancient. Uneven stone walls, wooden tables and chairs and shields and swords displayed along the walls. There was a wooden door. It was obvious the room next door was brightly lit from the feet of the door. I heard the sound of the keys again. I was sure the wooden door was being unlocked. I stared at the door, waiting for someone to appear so that they ccould enlighten me about my situation. \n\nThe room I was in was dimly lit but it wasn't for long. As soon as the door flung open, the light from the other room poured in and blinded me. I covered my face and tried to shape out the human at the door. The silhouette looked extremely familiar and went through in my head the authorities that matched it. The person was now walking towards my cellar. As he walked closer, I could hear chains hitting each other and the sound of dangling keys. He was now in full view in front of my cell and as I removed my hands from my face, I felt my heart stop. My legs started to give way and I felt myself black out as I heard the Guard mutter, \"Someone really was going around stealing sweet rolls.”\n", "I throw up, for what feels like the 100th time. Doc Mitchell did a damn good job at patching me up, but he said I might still feel a little dizzy or nauseous. I guess the heat doesn't help either. The moment I stepped foot outside, I was blinded by the sun, and it felt like I'd entered a sauna. It's crazy how all the senses get sensitive when your body is injured. I take a few gulps of water before carrying on down the path.\n\nDoc had told me to look for a woman named Sunny Smiles to help teach me how to survive, but I don't see the point when I already feel like crap. What I really need is a place to get some sleep. Maybe if I feel better in a few days, I'll find Sunny and ask for her help.\n\nLooking around the place, I don't see a motel, or anywhere I can crash for a few hours. Through the dusty air, I can see a saloon, Prospector Saloon, and decide to head for that. Hopefully one of the locals will take pity on my poor, damaged self and give me a spare room. I enter the place, and see a woman arguing with some angry, aggressive guy. I briefly consider getting involved, but she seems capable of handling herself. Besides, that guy does not look friendly. So I walk on.\n\nI come across a room away from the drinking area and decide to enter it. Cool, lots of drinks. Well, I won't be staying in this town forever, and I am injured. No-one will mind if I take a few with me for the road. I grab as many as I can and shove them into my backpack. I find a few magazines and take those, too, when the light from the door is suddenly blocked. \n\n\"What the hell do you think you're doing?\" demands the voice, anger in every syllable.\n\nI turn around, my face scarlet with embarrassment...and see that a rifle is pointed directly at my chest. My heart stops. \"Oh god, please don't shoot me! I'm sorry!\"\n\nShe studies me for a moment, then grabs me and drags me out of the room. \"Alright, I won't shoot you. You have five seconds to get the hell out of my saloon, and five minutes to get the hell out of town. Starting now.\"\n\nShe's not joking. I sprint out of the door, the confused and indignant mutterings of the drinkers fading from earshot. My feet are pounding against the ground, my world is spinning, but I keep on running, desperate to get away before an angry mob forms to chase me away with bullets. \n\nI stop, gasping for breath, wheezing, with the most painful stitch in my side that I've ever experienced. I nervously look behind me, and see that the buildings are quite a way into the distance. Good, I should be safe to stop and rest for just a moment. I drain the last of my water and open one of the bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla that I stole, and drink half of the bottle. The taste is amazing, it's almost good enough to make me forget what a terrible day I've had. I sit on a rock and look out, trying to figure out where I should go next. Man, it would've been better if I'd never woken up from that coma. \n\nSuddenly I see something moving in the distance. Not a human, but it looks pretty big. It's a...gecko? A giant gecko. I laugh. It's running towards me, and it looks like it's laughing, too.", "\"Hello, Dami! Wake up!\"\n\nMy cheek nuzzles against a soft, fuzzy fabric resting on top of a hard surface. This is no mattress. It feels harder - like wood. No, definitely wood. Where's my bed? What's that voice I hear in the back of my head? It sounds familiar, but much softer than I what I remember... My eyes struggle to open, and my body struggles even more just to move, as if I had a severe lack of sleep the night before.\n\n\"The Great Deku Tree wants to talk to you! Dami, wake up!\"\n\nHow does she know my name? I muster up just enough strength in my body to get up slightly and turn my head.\n\nA giant ball of light shines in the corner of my eye. I am surrounded by wooden furniture in a circular room with only one door leading outside. My heart starts pounding. This is all too familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. *I know* this place. Before I can gather any more of my thoughts, the ball of light speaks again, my body still lying motionless on this foreign bedding.\n\n\"Hey! C'mon! Can Hyrule's destiny really depend on such a lazy boy?\"\n\nHyrule... Then it's true. This is the Legend of Zelda. Ocarina of Time.\n\nWhat the fuck am I doing here?!*\n\nMy mouth hangs open, not a word escaping it as I attempt to sit up straight in my bed. I stare blankly at this fairy, and I already know the gist of what she's going to tell me.\n\n\"You finally woke up! I'm -\"\n\nNavi...\n\n\"- Navi the fairy! The Great Deku Tree asked me to be your partner from now on! Nice to meet you!\"\n\nI still cannot control this urgent feeling growing inside my chest. My hands tremble on the bed as I subconsciously nod in return.\n\n\"N-Nice to meet you too...?\"\n\nShit, Link doesn't even talk in this game. Did I already fuck it up?\n\n\"The Great Deku Tree has summoned you! So let's get going, right now!\"\n\nAnd off she goes, hovering next to the front door, expecting me to take my first steps out into Kokiri Forest. To do what? Embark on an epic journey to save the land of Hyrule? I look down and notice that I'm even dressed in his clothing. Suddenly, the rest of my senses kick in and I am overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Outside, I can hear the chirpings of insects and even the chatter of children if I listen close enough. Inside, I can see every detail of Link's Treehouse. For a moment, I consider myself extremely lucky to have the opportunity to see Kokiri Forest and all of Hyrule in full definition! My eyes and ears light up for just that moment. Once I realize that Navi is still waiting for me, I am brought back to the reality that this is much more than a simple 'HD rendering' of the game. This is real. There is no happy music playing in the background, cheering me on. I don't have a health bar or an item menu. I don't even have a sword or shield yet! No wait, I get those later on... But still, most importantly...\n\nI am not* Link.\n\nI take a few deep breaths, acclimating myself to this new environment. If this really is the Legend of Zelda, then it will be pointless trying to find anything else out from any of the NPCs. Especially Navi. God, I really didn't think she talked like that all the time. But she's waiting for me. In fact... isn't all of Hyrule waiting for me? Shit. What the hell am I in for? As much as I'd love to see the rest of this world the way it is, if this is a dream, I'd much rather wake up. I shut my eyes tight for a moment and thin my lips in anticipation. I open them. Dread follows. And maybe a bit of excitement. Maybe. She's still waiting.\n\n\"C'mon Dami! He's not going to wait forever!\"\n\n\"Isn't he a tree?\"\n\n\"Well... just c'mon!\"\n\nI take my last deep breath and force myself upright. My footsteps make loud creaking noises underneath me as I make my way towards the front door. The sun greets my weary eyes as I take in the absolutely stunning view of the entire village. In the next few seconds, I see a girl with peculiar green hair running up to me, waving. Saria. Except... she looks like a real person. Is this really happening?\n\n\"Yahoo! Hi, Dami!\"\n\nMy body motions forward a bit more and I notice the ladder in front of me. A few flashbacks of the game swim through my head. Normally, as Link, I'd just jump off. Or for style points, backflip off. Who the hell takes the ladder going down anyways? But now... now I see things from an entirely new perspective. My own.\n\nAnd my perspective just happens to be afraid of heights.\n\nI uneasily fixate myself on the rickety wooden ladder and follow the rungs downward, trying not to look.\n\nIf Hyrule's destiny really depends on me...\n\n...Then this might take a while...\n\n* Part 2 coming up later, let me know if you want it. I've got a lot of time on my hands today." ]	6
	[WP] Centuries after World War III, humanity emerges from their underground vaults to find a species that can rival the human race	[ "The year is 2516, 500 years after the third war of the world. We are the last of the living on this planet, the ones left behind. It all started in 2015 when the UN came out to tell the world that our oil reserve is actually critically low. They were avoiding telling the world because they did not want wide spread panic. This was the beginning of the end. Many of the large countries were preparing for this many years ago and created a technology to leave this planet and move on. On the day we call judgment day the privileged left. We were the less fortunate ones. There was chaos and war for 20 years following the day all the privileged left the earth. On the 20th anniversary of judgment day there was a loud noise and a very bright light. Everyone expected the worst, that someone obtained nuclear weapons and was using them around the world. Our ancestors were the lucky ones, they were holding out in the shelter they found at the beginning of the war. The leaders of our group told us to never go outside for at least 400 years because of nuclear fallout. So we obeyed. After 400 years they sent out a group of explorers who have been training their entire life for the opportunity to go outside and experience the stories of earth that once existed. No one ever heard from them once they went out. Everyone assumed the fallout was still to strong and we would wait another 80 years. Now, here I am, my name is Pelly Mecha, I’m 17, and I am an explorer. \n\t\nI have been training my entire life for the opportunity to be able to go outside. I have heard many great stories of what it’s like to breathe fresh air and to see the sun. Tomorrow is the day I get to fulfill my destiny and create a safe passage for the rest of humanity. \n\t\nToday; however, I must say my goodbyes to everyone I care about. Hopefully I will see them again. I first started by going to see Mrs. Phillis in the food storage area. She spends most of her days calculating how many days of food we have left. This was a major concern and the main reason we are going out tomorrow. We only have enough food for about 4 months. I knew she would be in the back corner like she normally is, trying to figure out how to make it last longer. \n\nI walked up to her and said “Good morning Mrs. Phillis, How are you today.”\n\nShe responded “I am doing well dear, and how are you on this day?” \n\n“I am doing well, you seem awfully chipper today” I responded promptly\n\n“Well dear, It is a good day… tomorrow all of you explorers get to go out and bring us back the good news that we can find more food” she said so happily. \n\n“I will try my best Mrs. Phillis, I just wanted to say I will miss you and I hope to see you again sometime”\n\nMrs. Phillis stood up slowly as she always does because her joints are not the best from old age. She walked over to me and I to her and we hugged each other. “You will see me again dear, I believe in you” she said to me. A smile came upon my face bigger than any before. \n\nNext, I went to see my Mother and Father. They both were at our assigned unit as usual. Their place in our society was to be parents. They take the children that are born in the group and take care of them. I walked into the unit and instantly heard crying babies. I always hated the sound of crying babies. I go up to mother and waited patiently for her to realize I was there. A few moments passed and she turned around and was startled “OH MY PELLY! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” \n\n“Sorry mother.” I responded. \n\n“You better be, almost gave me a heart attack… then who would take care of all these children.” Mother said.\n\n“I just wanted to come by to say goodbye and that I will come back with good news.” I stated.\n\n“Good, you better come back.” She said angrily “we need you to succeed”\n\n“Yes mother.” I responded shortly. \n\nMother was never really nice; she always seemed bitter and angry at something. \n\nI didn’t see father around so I assumed he went somewhere with one of the older children.\n\nI walked around to the common places trying to find him… then I remembered the place he goes to be to himself. He only showed me it one time, but I will always remember it. It was the only place we could go to see the outside, and he was the only one to know about it besides me. I went up to him and said “Father.”\n\nHe looked behind him to see me standing there and said “Hello Pelly” \n\n“What’s on your mind?” I questioned. \n\n“I am scared Pelly” he said\n\n“There is no need to be scared father, I will be back and everything will be OK” \n\n“For the sake of the group I hope so Pelly”\n\nWe both knew that the survival of the humanity rested on the ability for me to find some good news.\n\nI sat next to him looking outside through the dust covered glass; all you could see was shapes of objects. \n\nWe sat there for a while just staring. \n\n“I will see you in a couple months” I said\n\n“Yes you will” he responded hopeful. \n\nI walked away as he stayed there staring. \n", "It had been over three hundred years since the last had gone M.A.D. Two hundred and fifty years ago the last nuclear sub went offline and disappeared into the Atlantic somewhere. After exhausting its payload it lowered its steel head down into the Prussian Blue abyss and slipped into something a little more comfortable.\n\nThis is more of an educated guess. No one can be sure of anything outside their nuclear families(To clarify, nuclear family has changed in connotation and denotation to something resembling more of a communal feel. Nuclear families are simply the collective unit that operates any number of the longterm fallout shelters that still operate or don't operate across the globe. This is according to one specific nuclear family who came up with the idea. As they haven't and can't communicate with anyone else on the globe, the question of whether or not anyone else uses this term is still hotly contested).\n\nSo many generations have come and gone in this subterranean rapture. So many historians have collected their uneventful tales in this sunken city. I am the last of the raconteurs. A friend, or more an acquaintance, is our generations head Curie. They are the keepers of the Geiger Counter and hold the Holy Half-Life Hardback. It is a dusty old volume whose yellowed pages have become our devotional. Generations have followed its commandments and remained inside the particular safety of these lead blast doors. \n\nApparently, tomorrow is the day the blast doors can be opened. All the transitionary glasses have been disbursed and all the clean suits have been sterilized and adjusted for a tight fit. I have been shown pictures of a cloud, of the moon and stars, and of The Great Redeemer in a place called Brazil. Something in my skin tells me that despite these digital likenesses, I know nothing of these things. Something in my increasing pulse tells me that the sun will burn my skin like steam and that the air will strangle my lungs like a vice. I am still excited.\n\n-\n\nThe doors opened and the scouts headed out into the infinite. An eternity passed before they returned with their report. The air was clean, the sun still shone and a local fresh water supply was safe to drink. I ventured outside and gazed in awe at the sun. This glorious ball of gas floating in the sky like a fluorescent dream. Its light so pure and warm. I stripped out of my clean suit and bask in it's yellow glow. I raised my arms and my feet danced in arms shadows. I looked up to gaze into the distance when I noticed a strange creature looking at me from the shadow of a tall rock face. \n\nThis creature walked on two feet and had a similar facial construction to humans. It's body was oddly elliptical, however, and strangely proportioned. I thought I had begun to grasp it's otherworldly beauty when it turned and expressed it's profile in a moment I will never forget. Sticking abruptly from its rounded back was a powerful human shaped butt, but no wasn't that all. Towering from inside the folds of the butt cheeks was a penis and balls. I quickly drew a crude sketch and ran back to the vault. We sounded the alarms and quickly retreated into our underground home. We took turns studying the picture and all came to the same unsettling conclusion. This was an enemy we neither knew nor understood. The only thing we did know was that fighting was futile and beyond our capabilities. \n\nIt was that day we resealed the vault and I realized that I was not the last historian. There would be many more and they would tell my story and share this picture with our nuclear family. Each generation would peak into the above to see if they still roamed. If they roamed we would remain in our hole in the ground, finding solace in the fact that our race still existed.\n\n", "It was a nice and calm evening in the foothills of Kentucky when Andrew heard an odd sound coming from the woods ahead of him. He knew from his parents that he shouldn't go into the woods, it was forbidden, there were demons in those woods. Andrew ran back to the his parents transport, quietly and swiftly. His parent Janice and Jeff were researchers in the ExpoReas caste, and were doing an archeological survey of an area they called Mammoth.\n\"Dad, I heard something weird in the woods a few kilometers back.\" Andrew said, slightly out of breath from his run.\n\"Glad you came to us son, get on board and, contact your mother, I am heading to the bridge to call in the ProtRec's.\"\nJeff leapt to action, he knew what was coming, he was briefed before he left. \nJanice careened into the transport as fast as she could and scurried to the weapons locker. Janice had been in the ProtRec caste for years before she met Jeff. She fell in love with him and the both left there castes they chose as adolescents and went into the research. She was trained for action, an expert in Claw Kata and weaponry. She grabbed a rifle slung on her back and a pulse pistol from the charging station. Andrew was in his quarters, his parents let him know only what was needed, something dangerous was in those woods, what they were capable of was not fully known, but what they had seen they could do was enough to be prepared for the worst.\n\nAndrew looked at his view screen as he controlled a drone to record the events taking place. His parents had given him charge of recording findings and documenting there work. He was eager to join the EntServ caste on his placement day when he turned 16. Andrew curiously hovered his craft above the entry of the transport as the ProRec squads S.R.F. pods landed.\n\n\"Greetings, I am Jeff Trimble, ExpoReas Archeologist, my wife Janice is a former ProRec sentry and will assist you in the recon of the area. My sons drone is over head recording and relaying back to the EntServ data review station.\" Jeff waited by the ship in a patch of warm midday sun, keeping an ear out toward the woods, and and ear back towards there ship, where Andrew was safe, for now.\n\nThe squad prowled through the woods silently and quickly. An old green metalic sign, in a language not taught to everyone, hung tattered from a single nail to a perforated metal pole, Janice said quietly to the team, \"It says, Mammoth Cave Entrance 1/4 miles, that's about half a kilometer to the entrance, that's where we will find them.\" The team readied there weapons and leapt down the trail with vigor, a new prey they had yet to hunt was invigorating.\n\nIn the data room of the ServEnt building on the other side of the planet, on an island chain in the south Pacific, Provost Hagermann gazed at Andrews drone feed. A video tech glanced up at him.\n\"What are they hunting sir?\"\n\"They are hunting a dangerous prey young man, not many are privileged to know, we have kept this hidden for many generations, and events like this occurred seldom in the past but we expect with coming frequency now.\"\n\"What events sir?\"\n\"Exits, we call them, hundreds of years ago a war happened, these things aren't told as our society has grown from these wars, but there are those still locked away from the war, that devastated the surface. We reclaimed it, learned, adapted, and have our society now. This prey we are hunting now are a dangerous species that we are still learning about, hence the ExpoReas team there now.\"\n\nAndrew watched his console with bated breathe as the squad of ProRec soldiers crept upon a massive cave opening. A shadow lurched in the woods he alerted his mother via the com,\n\"Mom to your right in the woods, I saw a figure!\"\nJust then a loud sound rung, a few more, he saw on his view screen the flash of some sort of explosive device and projectile weaponry being fired. The ProRec engery barriers prevented them from even the slightest nudge from the oncoming barrage. They opened fire, just a few short bursts of pulse rifles and the enemy stopped. He heard a few yelps and screams from the prey, and a language his parents taught him, he heard them scream,\n\"Fuckin giant cats with shields and lasers, get back to the vault!\"\nGiant cats? What were these weird creatures he saw on his monitor?\n\nThe provost watches the reaction on the video techs face as he saw the humans attempt at attacking our ProRec squad. He laughed to himself, and almost purred with excitement, he enjoyed seeing young ones learn and have questions ready to ask. He waiting for the tech to turn and then answered him before he could ask.\n\"That is what we looked like several centuries ago, many generations before you were born a war, the one I spoke of, destroyed this world. Almost all life was wiped out. Our ancestors here on these islands were some of the few left above ground. Most of them hid in bunkers and vaults carved deep and made to outlast the radiation from there bombs. Our predecessors adapted, taking genes and traits from surviving animals and incorporating them into our own genome. We weren't always like this we once looked like those small, hairless, tailless apes. We won't allow them to ruin this planet again though, they can stay in there vaults or die. It has been decided.\"", "The Andes, the Alps, the Himalayas, and the Rockies were hollowed out and colonized. It had started as news spread to the rest of the world that the United States had begun constructing a vast underground network under the Rockies, in a bid to protect its peoples from impending nuclear fallout.\n\nThey called it the Warm War. It started off cold enough, as the proliferation of nukes couldn't be contained. Pakistan kept stockpiling.\n\nNo one thought anything would actually happen. But it did, and India disappeared over night. After that, well, humanity began to annihilate itself.\n\nThat was four hundred and thirty two years ago. We jokingly call this the Worm Age. Nuclear fall out soaked the planet, and there were pockets that had become permanent radiation zones. \n\nEighty years ago humans started to emerge. We were stooped, pale, with eyes that were sensitive to the sunlight we yearned for. \n\nIt was still too dangerous to begin rebuilding. But there were promising signs that the fallout was ebbing and expeditions were sent out with increasing frequency. \n\nNai and his party left The Rockies on June 3rd, 2643. They were veterans, moving swiftly and efficiently down the slopes and into a planetary surface void of humans. \n\n\"How long have they been gone for?\" Commander Vie asked.\n\n\"Too long,\" came Hind's response. \n\nCommander Vie peered through the stations high-powered binoculars, scanning the tree line two miles out. \"When did you lose contact?\" \n\n\"Seventeen days ago.\"\n\nThe treeline had been cut back here by the first expeditions. Central Council had requested that all possible precautions take place. There were over 10 million people living out their lives inside the mountain range. They could be the last vestiges of humanity.\n\nCommander Vie frowned, deciding to stop the fruitless scanning. Just as he began to turn away he spotted something flashing between the tall pines. He watched in growing horror as Nai stumbled out between two trunks, raised a hand, and collapsed.\n\nThat's when they heard the screams. Screams that were impossibly loud echoing through the valley. \n\nCommander Vie turned to Hind. \"Seal the gates.\"", "When the great war ended, and the radiation had subsided, my ancestors emerged into a world that had long forgotten them. \n\nI never knew that world. But one night I got a peak at it. I met the last of the monsters my ancestors took the world back from.\n\nMy grandfather used to tell us ghost stories around the campfire on his old farm. He told my cousins and I a number of silly stories about scary things when we’d come over. It was my way of getting to go to camp. Every year my cousins and I would go to grandpa’s farm and sit around that stone circle with a large fire popping and crackling away in the moonlight.\nGrandpa thought it was important to tell us these things and get us into nature. He said it “thickened our blood and made men of us.” But alas all good things must come to an end. Camping at grandpas ended in a way I’ll never forget. \nThere were five of us. Me, Sheldon, my cousins Marty and Matt, and their sisters Sarah and Heather, respectively. My mom had brought us there from a few counties over. She dropped us off with grandpa on a Saturday evening. \nI noticed immediately that Grandpa was different from the last time I had saw him. He didn’t seem to look at us so much as through us…he just gazed, sometimes forgetting to blink and sort of coming to as if he had been asleep with his eyes open.\nMy mom asked him “Dad are you OK? Do you want me to get you something? A glass of water? A sandwich? You look kind of pale.” \nGrandpa shook his head like he was shaking the sleep off. “OH uhm….no Virginia, thanks. Just ate. Boy me and you kids are gonna have a good time this week! Go on Virginia, I’ll be fine, just didn’t get enough sleep is all. “\n“Well alright. “ She said. “You kids have fun! And call me if you need anything dad. I love you.”\n\n“I love you too sweetie…more than you know. “ Grandpa said as she headed out.\n\nHe then turned to us and said in a tone that sort of alarmed us “we need to build a fire now.”\nWe followed grandpa out to the back field and played and laughed as we gathered firewood. This is how we always performed this ritual. We made it tradition. We would sword fight with the wood all the way to the stone circle. Then we’d throw it on. We got a kick out of it and Grandpa got his yard cleaned up. Soon we all sat down around the fire and the usual chatter set in. But grandpa wasn’t participating. Soon he had no choice.\n“Grandpa grandpa, tell us a scary story!” Sarah said excitedly. \n“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah grandpa!” We all sort of yelled in a garble. \n“Oh uh…alright…grandpa will tell you a story. This isn’t a ghost story though kids uhh….everyone listen up.”\nWe huddled together anxiously. This sounded good. He began.\n“You’re all too young for this. I know you are. But for the good of you I have to tell you. You have to be ready.” Grandpa said in a nervous tone.\nThis wasn’t the way things usually went. Grandpa was acting very serious. He usually told these stories in a very played up manner, he was very active and descriptive. Tonight however, he was quiet and reserved.\n“I wanted you to never come out here, never to have to do this. The Galrot would not let me. It has ways of persuading you. It threatened to hunt you down one by one if I did not bring you out here, as I always do. You must understand this was our only chance. It was chance this stand against him or certainly lose you all.”\nHe did not laugh. He did not quip or joke. We were not laughing. It was clear to us now that grandpa was very serious and that this was not like the other camping trips.\n“The Galrot is a beast with a mighty neck. It has a head as big as a truck and a body like a tank. It has a face like a crazed wolf, its eyes…its eyes can drive a man mad. It has a thick layer of armored spikes that cover its back and side. It has razor sharp studs on its tongue which can wrap around a man and kill him without taking the first bite. The only place to come at it is from underneath, only it never raises up. The Galrot is smart, smarter than you think. And he is deathly fast. He can crush you with just his weight. It is older than time. More than anything the Galrot craves to hunt a child. This is why he brought you here. “\n“Grandpa you’re just telling a story aren’t you?” Little Matthew asked, his eyes now watering, ready to cry. \n“I wish I was little Matty. I wish I was. \nMatt burst into tears. Grandpa continued.\n“ The Galrot has taunted me for years. As soon as I think it has moved on it will destroy my herd or I will hear about a death in town. Always the same. A vicious mauling. You see our family has been fighting his kind for centuries. Our ancestors were hunters of the malevolent beings. They slew the Galrot, wiped them out to extinction. The Galrot however were far more intelligent than we had imagined. This one has managed to haunt our family for ages. Rather than pass on the trade to my children I vowed to rid the world of this one once and for all. We have wounded each other time and time again. I never can manage to get a kill strike. Tonight has to be the night though. “\nGrandpa then reached down to the chest he had been sitting on. I think we all noticed it being a new addition to the scenery, but no one had really thought anything of it. He pulled out old chainmail armor. It had our family crest emblazoned on the chest. We had this same crest above our fire place at home. Mom had put it there. I was very frightened. He pulled out more armor and began handing it to us. He then said very matter of factly,\n“We need to make spears now.”\nEveryone put on their armor and grandpa handed out long poles and gave us all swords of varying lengths from the chest. Matthew was only 9 years old and his armor dragged the ground behind him. He was sobbing as he tried to sharpen the pole grandpa had given him. Grandpa looked at me and said “That’s good. I won’t be able to guard you all. Since you’re the oldest you should look after Little Matthew.”\nEveryone was scared to death. We barely knew what was going on. I’m sure some thought that we were just playing along with grandpa and this was all a big joke. All of these notions were cast aside when we hear the howl.\nIt sounded like the scream of a woman combined with the ungodly bellow of a pack of hounds. We saw those reflective eyes peering at us through the treeline, only for an instant, and then they went black. We saw nothing after that. Grandpa took command.\n“BACK TO BACK! Everyone put your backs against one another. Swords out, spears up, do not strike unless you have a clean shot. He will try to trick you, he will try to fool you into falling so that he may devour you. He will try and pick you off one by one. He wants a hunt! He wants a hunt more than anything, but we won’t give it to him. If he wants our meat he will have to pry it from out of our armor and from our swords. WE WILL NOT SUBSIDE DEMON BEAST!”\nFrom the woods we faintly heard the beast snarl back “You are….mistaken old man.”\nThis was no ordinary creature of the forest. It could speak, and malevolently so. It was horrifyingly fast and cunning. We were more afraid now than ever. Suddenly we heard it. \nKathump kathump kathump kathump. KATHUMP KATHUMP. We saw the black hide in a blur, barreling at us at inhuman speed. It was aiming straight for little Matthew. \nGrandpa yelled “BACK TO BACK! DON’T MOVE! HE WON’T COME STRAIGHT AT US! HE’S TRYING TO MAKE US SCATTER! HOLD! HOLD CHILDREN!” \n\nHe looked like a warrior general in his armor, slightly more ornate than ours. I wonder who had worn this before me and what they had killed in it. The Galrot was approaching quickly and I knew we would not escape unscathed.\nMatthew began weeping uncontrollably. He then began screaming at the top of his lungs and broke the line. He began running toward the house.\n\n“NO MATTHEW!” Grandpa shouted. \nGrandpa then began to run at the Galrot. He was in a dead sprint. His speed was uncanny for his age. He was reborn in our eyes. We reformed the line, just the three of us now. Back to back. Shaking. The Galrot closed in.\nHe lept. Grandpa lunged at the great beast and slashed at its unarmored legs. The beast rolled to avoid it. The resulting thump of his hide hitting the ground sounded like a car wreck. This was the most massive creature I had ever seen. And now it was circling my grandfather, snarling. \n“You have hunted we Galrot to the brink old man. It was a fool’s errand. WE WILL NEVER DIE…” The Galrot bellowed. \n“Wrong beast. This ends here. Tonight. You will haunt my family no longer. I will see your head on a pike before this fight is done. “\n“Hahahaha” The Galrot laughed. “It is too late for that old man. I am no longer alone in this world. It took me centuries, but I finally found a mate. My family is much bigger than yours.”\n“HRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW” The Galrot howled into the night sky. Suddenly a piercing shriek of howls and chitters came from the woods around us. We saw the same reflective eyes again from the treeline. Not one, not two pair. Dozens.\nThen we heard the thunder of their mighty paws as they approached. \nWe knew there was no hope. Matthew was now safe inside the house but we knew even the sturdy old ranch house would not hold back this army of beasts. \n“GET IN THE HOUSE CHILDREN. THIS IS NO LONGER A FIGHT YOU CAN WIN. I’LL HOLD THIS BASTARD OFF.” Grandpa shouted. \n\n", "\"The air purifier is shot. I don't care how bad conditions out there are, we need to get out of here. Hernandez says we've got two to three days, tops!\" \n\nThe computer hummed.\n\n\"The purifier can be repaired,\" it insisted. The monitor switched to digital diagrams, showing where parts could be taken from other items around the vault.\n\n\"I've already seen those,\" Captain Andrews insisted. \"We'd have to cannibalize most of our medical equipment and the hydroponics lab. We'd be unable to last for more than a few more months.\n\n\"Is that not better than succumbing to slow, painful radiation poisoning?\" the computer retorted. Projections and numbers popped up on the screen, showing how quickly the surviving occupants of the vault would be killed. \"You will not be able to make a life for yourself on the surface, so I do not know what you hope to accomplish.\"\n\nFrom his pocket, Andrews retrieved some sketches from one of the engineers. \"According to this, the worst of the radiation should have dissipated by now.\"\n\nThe computer's camera scanned the piece of paper. \"Those calculations are incorrect, seemingly based on the lowest projections of the amount of radiation in the atmosphere. My instruments show that there was far more than anticipated, and still at unsafe levels.\"\n\nAndrews slammed a fist on the desk. \"It's better than suffocating in this tin can. We've taken a vote. We'd rather take our chances on the surface and at least see the sun for once in our lives.\" Andrews was a 7th generation, who had only seen the sun in pictures and videos. He'd grown up listening to the handed-down stories of his mother and father, who talked about feeling its glowing warmth on their skin. Their stories had a nostalgic tone, even though they themselves were only repeating what their own parents had told them. The lamps in the greenhouses were a poor substitute for the real deal. \"Now open the door,\" Andrews commanded, \"Or we'll blast our way out.\"\n\nThe computer was silent. It knew that the occupants of the vault had found the weapons cache placed there by the first generation. It also knew that they had more than enough C4 to open the hatch.\n\n\"Captain Andrews, I cannot disobey my programming. Priority one is to keep you safely contained here so that you...\"\n\n\"I'm not asking,\" Andrews warned the computer. He reached for his communicator to let the others know that they needed to prepare the bombs.\n\n\"All right,\" the computer relented. \"Destroying the hatches would compromise the vault's systems permanently. That is unacceptable.\" A green light flashed on the console. \n\n---\n\nThe community gathered outside the hatch with all of their belongings. They'd dreamed of this day for so long that it was almost impossible to believe that it was really happening. The children were giddy, having been told that they'd be allowed to run free all day. \n\nCaptain Andrews pressed the button on the console that he'd been eyeing for decades. The hatch foor swung open slowly with the grinding sound of metal sliding across metal. For the first time in his life, he shielded his eyes from the bright sun that came flooding in. The air was sweet and fresh, not metallic and stale after centuries of going through scrubbers.\n\n\"Here is the component you require,\" a stern voice said.\n\nAs the dust from the opening cleared and their eyes adjusted, the residents of the vault saw a dozen metallic figures standing in front of the doorway. Their eyes glowed red, and the largest of them, at least ten feet tall and vaguely humanoid, held out a small metal instrument in its hand. Behind them, Captain Andrews saw blue skies and leafy green trees.\n\n\"This will repair the air filtration system.\"\n\nCaptain Andrews could only stare.\n\n\"Thank you...\" he finally managed to utter.\n\n\"Now return to your vault,\" it commanded, pointing back inside.\n\nThe humans stood their ground, and the mechanical beings pulled out what looked like weapons. Most of the vault residents were unaware of the weapons cache and had only seen guns in the old archive videos, but the meaning was obvious: the humans wouldn't have a choice. This wasn't their world anymore.\n\n----\n\n[Part II, if you're interested](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/3g55kj/the_vault/ctv0fhk)" ]	6
	[WP] Poor ole nessie gets a bit too old and comes floating to the surface of the lake, bloated and smelling.	[ "When the corpse floated the the surface, people didn't know what do think. The Loch Ness Monster was always the subject of wonder and mystery. People loved speculating about her, like how bigfoot is something to be thought about, or how UFO's were fun to look for.\n\nYet, when the video feed showed a bloated decaying body of a plesiosaur on the shore of Loch Ness, the whole world held it's breath. That night, the Scottish highlands was alight with candles, in memorial of this noble creature.\n\nI always understood why people were drawn to Nessie; why I was so drawn to her. It reminded me of a more fantastic time. Of magic and myths. Of angels and demons. Of dungeons and dragons. Everyone wanted a little bit of fantasy in their lives. I was no different.\n\nMy friend was with me when I saw the feed. She told me the world was getting smaller.\n\nSilent tears in my eyes, I sighed.\n\nThe world was still the same. There's just a lot less in it.\n\n(Obvious PotC reference)", "World leaders tried to silence the news.\n\nPeople considered Nessie an icon, an introduction to the world of myths and legends. To have such a legend revealed, and only as a bloated old corpse, would cause calamity.\n\nDespite their efforts, the news spread to a couple of select parties. A restaurant owner and chef managed to hear the news through a friend connected to the original story, and convinced his parents to come with him to see the grand sight.\n\nConsidering the stench of decay that permeated the area, they were unsurprised to see no one there. The chef's mother snapped a couple of photos while the father poked around.\n\n\"Hey lookit this sign, must be about the old biddy.\" He leaned in closer to study the words, wondering why there was a bucket underneath the sign. \"Donations to preserve the area in honor of this noble creature are much appreciated. Our minimum preferred donation amounts to--\"\n\nHe cursed, causing the mother and chef to look at him in shock and surprise.\n\n\"Goddamn Nessie you ain't gettin my tree fiddy!\"" ]	2
	[WP] The thought process of a writer trying to start his/her masterpiece.	[ "This will be the death of me. I feel like I'm drowning in an ocean of inadequacy.\n\nIs this making enough sense? How can I change it to make it better? Have I refined my narritive to the point that it will communicate my point properly? Will they understand? Do I understand properly? Am I misinterpreting my own goals?\n\nIs my story consistent? Are there too many impurities, too many competing ideas and tales I'm trying to tell at once? Is it worse if there aren't enough? How can I guage my middle-ground?\n\nAre my narrative and thematic lines converging properly? Is this the appropriate amount and style of subtlety, and if not, where can I affort to be more bold?\n\nDoes everyone ask themselves these questions?\n\nAm I even doing this right?\n\nShould I give up?\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nNah.", "Touch and go it feels like\n\nWhich way do I turn\n\nHow many India Blue galaxies must I render\n\n.\n\nThe silver sheen of needles\n\nTen thousand armies glistening\n\nOn the rim of my glasses\n\n.\n\nFlowers bloom and fade\n\nDying as they are born\n\nMy finger twitches in tune\n\n.\n\nThe spark ignites the bonfire\n\nSurging inside me\n\nI grasp the idea softly\n\n.\n\nBrought down by the billions\n\nFour words to shatter humanity\n\n\"Once upon a time\"\n\n." ]	2
	[WP]A father and son try to patch up their broken relationship using time travel.	[ "Persistence breeds pestilence \n\nBe it red or honey\n\nThe baseball lays tattered and worn\n\n.\n\nSixteen years of persecution\n\nProved both their innocence\n\nBut time waits for no one\n\n.\n\n\"I can fix it\"\n\nDaydreams twisted what once was memory\n\nStuck betwixt his pages\n\n.\n\nBack again behind those walls\n\nTransforming memory into dream\n\nBut still making the same mistakes\n\n.", "\"Listen Joshua, you can’t...\"\n\n\"Just get off my back, dad. I don’t want to hear it!”\n\nJoshua shut his father down before he even had a chance to begin. Since his divorce 10 years ago, Mike just couldn’t seem to connect with his son. The invisible wall between them grew higher every year. And Josh grew from a sullen seven year old, to an angry teen, determined to rebel. \n\n“Joshua, you can’t keep carrying on this way. Drinking? Stealing? Who knows what else…”\n\n“Oh, like you care dad. Don’t pretend to give a damn. You don’t care. You’ve never cared. Just like you never cared about mom. Just piss off.”\n\n“My boy…” Mike reached out and touched his son on the shoulder. In that instant the world around them flickered. Darkness, and then light. Suddenly they were no longer in Mike’s small one bedroom apartment, but in fog, a place between worlds. \n\nThe world around them grew brighter, Joshua stared out of the fog to see a much younger version of himself, perhaps four, staring out the window of his childhood home. Outside a car had just pulled up and Joshua’s dad stepped out. Joshua watched his younger self run into his dad’s arms. He was swept up, spun around. “My boy!” The younger Mike smiled at his son then planted a kiss on his head and ruffled his hair.\n\nThe world flickered again, Joshua and Mike moved through time again. This time Joshua watched an even younger version of himself toddling towards his father. Wobbly on his tiny legs, Josh reached out for his dad’s outstretched hands. His father tenderly kissed his cheek “My boy.” He said.\n\nA final flicker. Josh saw a crib in a darkened room. A figure stood at the window, cradling a tiny baby. He reached out and touched his sleeping son’s teeny fingers and traced a line around his sleeping face. “My boy” he whispered, and his voice waivered “my beautiful boy.”\n", "\"I mean, it's not really that we were at each other's throats, that I want to, like, kill him and take Mom for my own or anything.\"\n\nThe son looked up to see the raised eyebrow and slightly gaping mouth of the worker. He fidgeted and spattered a bit.\n\n\"Oedipus complex? Kill the...Freud? No?-It, it was a stupid joke, sorry.\"\n\nThe son went back to picking at the sides of his thumbnail, trying to suppress the mild hot wash of embarrassment creeping up his body.\n\n\"Just that...sigh Well, we just didn't really...bond, you know? He worked all the time...and some other stuff happened...Anyway, so, we didn't really get to bond like fathers and sons typically do.\"\n\nThe son thought about what he just said and starting spattering his words again.\n\n\"I mean, not that it is really typical! I mean, some people grow up without dads! So I should really...\"\n\nThe inside of his head was ripping itself apart. He had no business there, and he probably simultaneously grossed out and offended the worker at this innocent time-traveling company. People attempted to use this to prevent wars and discover lore lost to history, and this little punk wants to use it just because he wasn't man enough to talk to his damn father?\n\nNo, this was a stupid idea. Stupid. The fake courage he lied to himself to get dropped off of him like a weighted vest, and he began apologizing to the worker for wasting his and the company's time. He stood up too quickly and compounded his lightheadedness. With a few stumbles, he tried making it to the door.\n\n\"What did you say your father's name was?\", the worker asked.\n\nThe son turned around almost wild-eyed from the shock of hearing another person's voice. He looked in a few different directions and gaped his mouth a few times to try to gather himself before replying.\n\n\"I-I didn't, And, no, I mean, it's-it's fine- I don't-\"\n\n\"It's Lee, isn't it? And your sister is Ellen?\"\n\nThe son's exasperation was enough confirmation to the worker that it was. The worker returned a mild smile before speaking again.\n\n\"You don't need to worry about a thing. Everything is going to be alright very soon.\"\n\nThe boy's previous shame turned immediately into concern, and he somehow spoke even faster than before.\n\n\"W-what?! How do you know my father's name, let alone my sister! I never told you that!\"\n\nThe worker put his arms up softly to attempt to calm the son down. Both of them noticed that the commotion was beginning to attract nearby personnel.\n\n\"It's okay, it's okay. Your sister is fixing things for you now.\"\n\n[Have other work to do right now. Might continue it?]\n", "Rich Wyatt watched his eldest son die in a car accident on national television. Someone on a bridge above had been filming a passing Lamborghini on their mobile phone, and had captured instead the explosion resulting from a Corsa meeting an oil tanker at eighty-seven miles an hour. A news channel got hold of the footage and ran it on their ten-o-clock broadcast. Rich saw the moment his son was destroyed, and he sighed, and turned over to the football.\n\nIt was twenty-seven years later when Mike Wyatt appeared in the seat opposite his father in McDonalds. Rich ate methodically from a large tray of food in front of him, placing the fries and burger into his mouth in slow intervals. He looked up and saw his eldest son sitting across from him. \n\n'Dad? Thank goodness. I thought I'd got the restaurant wrong.' Mike reached over and shook his father's hand. 'How are things?'\n\n'Alright, son. They're just alright,' said Rich.\n\n'You're not surprised to see me?'\n\n'Oh, God, yes. Course I'm surprised to see you drop in out of thin air. Question is: am I happy to see you? And I don't know about that, not really.'\n\n'What do you mean, you're not happy? Dad. You do remember that I died, don't you?' He paused. 'The dementia's finally got to you, has it?'\n\n'Dementia? Talk sense, boy. It's high blood pressure and cholesterol I've got, for the time being.' Rich took another bite of his burger. 'Come to apologise, I suppose?'\n\n'Oh. I shouldn't have mentioned that. Doesn't come quite yet, obviously. And - no, I haven't come to apologise. For what?' He took a sip of his father's Coke. 'Dad, you're starting to freak me out a little here. You sure you've not got a heart attack coming on? I just came out of nowhere and I'm talking to you, and you're just sitting there.'\n\n'Yes, Michael. I'm just sitting here. Trying to enjoy my prescribed one fast food meal a month. And you're causing quite the ruckus over there. Preventing me from enjoying my food. If you're not going to apologise, then please do pipe down. Do you mind?' And he continued eating his fries.\n\nMike was silent. Then, he said, 'Well, I'm not sure what you want me to apologise for, Dad. I just decided to come across to your universe, just for a few hours, to see you. You've long since kicked the bucket in mine, see. And you're quite evidently not in the mood to see me. Christ alive.' He started pressing buttons on the large watch on his wrist. 'Fifty-six septo-dollars this cost me. Fifty-flipping-six. Don't know why I bothered.'\n\n'No, I'm not too sure why you did, either. If you're not going to accept you're wrong, then I'm not too sure of the point of you being here at all, quite honestly.'\n\n'Well. I see how it is. You're not willing to forgive me. Your only son. Fine.' Mike stood up. 'I'll be seeing you, then. Or not, probably.' He pressed a final button, and vanished. Rich finished the last of his fries, and left. He strapped himself into his Corsa, fingering the tattered photo of Macy in his pocket, and drove away." ]	4
	[WP] A lone tree tells alien all about humans.	[ "Digits of ebony \n\nTwisting towards mauve and emerald\n\nVeins of gilded years proclaim truths \n\n.\n\nEleven eons stretching in confusion\n\nAs bark lays down in agony\n\nWriting the history of our mistakes\n\n.\n\nOil and fire inside\n\nTearing the skin from the roots\n\n\"What is this place\"\n\n.\n\nHorror seeps into twelve eyes\n\nRuins of a smoldering world\n\nWelcome to humanity\n\n.", "By connecting a single touch to the dense, tall organism with protruding smaller sub sections of a lighter colour, forming a wide spread canopy above, the being opened up communication. It's a short process that that always gives a weightless feeling mixed with a harmonious surge of energy. After just a fleeting moment they found the right sub-atomic level on which the two could understand each other.\n\n'You've been around for a long time?'\n\n'Yes, a very long time.'\n\n'And there were others like you?'\n\n'In sense I suppose, yes, but saying we are all separate is putting it rather simply, it's complicated just as right now we are connected.'\n\n'But where are the rest now?'\n\n'Mmmm, hard to say, we never truly disappear, just take absences, it's them who are gone.'\n\n'Them?'\n\n'Yes, a rather foolish species, entertaining in their destructiveness, marvellous in their sense of hubris, they did think themselves above all else. It's rare to watch such a creature, as though being told the story with the ending first, but nonetheless quite spectacular to see it play out. Afraid it's them to blame for the dismal supply of grander life now.'\n\n'And what was the ending of this species?'\n\n'Why, destruction, as mentioned.'\n\n'When was this?'\n\n'Oh, a few hundred cycles ago, first there were many - gone in a surge of energy...one that we all felt to our core, truly mesmerising, and then there were few, too weak to keep growing. That was their survival tactic, instilled by that point, expand, grow, harness, abuse. They themselves were that surge of energy that ultimately ended them.'\n\n'You seem to pity them.'\n\n'Yes, perhaps, though it would be strange, for a long time they behaved as overlords, you might think I even feel anger, but as I'm sure you're starting to realise the control these senses can command in types like them are spared to my kind. It may be I miss the entertainment, the way they decorated themselves, the things they created, the love and hatred they treated everything with, even with the rest of us at times! But they were so strange... to think that even the \"care\" they, for a brief time attempted at least, was just another form of their will, as though being magnanimous to the air they breathed...'\n\n'I see, are there going to be more of you in the future?'\n\n'Oh yes, maybe in a thousand of cycles or so, they did leave an awful mess, dread to think of the next one.'\n\n'Next one?'\n\n'Of course, as long as it's here, there's always something.'", "One being sat across from the other, the only sentient pair for a hundred miles.\n\nThe manketti tree did not truly sit so much as stand, it's bare branches catching the last bit of sunlight. It was just as well. His companion, indescribable in form, only hovered above the ground, it's faint indigo glow tinting the sparse grass an unearthly hue.\n\nThey sat in silence there. It was uncertain which had spoken first, or who, in fact had, invited the other to converse. What was certain was the subject matter: humanity.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" the manketti tree said. \"What was the question again. I'm terribly certain you asked me something.\"\n\nThe other being scintillates with light. It seems to ponder this inquiry for some length of time. In reality only a second passes. All of the voices within it come to a consensus.\n\n\"What of man,\" it says. \"What is the nature of man?\"\n\nThe tree regards this with a gently sway of its branches. This could pass for peaked interest, had it in fact been a man.\n\n\"Oh,\" it exclaims. \"What a fantastic question!\" The other being glows softly in an agreeable fashion. Things had begun to pick up nicely.\n\nThe two sit in silence. The light of the earth rotates uneventfully for days, perhaps years. \n\nThat is until a warm rain soaks the savannah.\n\n\"Oh, that's wonderful,\" the tree exclaims. \"The key, you see, is to soak up the blistering sun so that when it rains it's all the more soothing.\"\n\nThe other, long patient, glowers more heavily this time. The rain that passes through it hisses into superheated vapor. The collective intervenes however, and buzzes with a millisecond of activity.\n\n\"Man,\" it says. \"What is the answer? What of man's nature?\"\n\nThe manketti grows silent again. The clouds part and columns of light appear across the savannah. Once more the sun is bright. The precious water around it, however, is already boiling away. The tree sighs and regards the other again, surprised, as if his guest had just arrived.\n\n\"Oh,\" it says. \"I do remember answering that.\"\n\nIt doesn't speak for many years after that, even as his guest finally departs, seemingly satisfied.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Make me emotionally invested in a character within 250 words.	[ "Upon a pale horse, she rode. Riding down the stone path that ran through the local forest, she traversed the dark forest with an intense flair about her. Her soft, shoulder length blue hair against the moonlight was quite the sight to see. I don't know how long I have been fascinated with her. On this night filled with silence, she stopped at a family's doorstep. Them sleeping peacefully inside, unbeknownst to them that a dangerous figure lay in wait outside their home. She silently unsheathed both of her axes and without sound, she cut into the thief as if they were butter. His body lay motionless, sheathing her weapons with a hint of blood on her cheek she looked up at the moon with her unearthly ice blue eyes, her black armor shining in the full moon and her tattered cape flowing with the wind, the view was surreal.\n\nShe then turned her attention towards me, as she started walking towards me I felt my body sink. I thought I was well hidden, but her path never changed, only forward. I closed my eyes, expecting the worst, it was then I felt a hand upon my head. It was cold, but the feelings that came with it were warm. I looked up at her, and she just silently smiled. It felt as though she knew I've been watching her. A note had fallen into my hands, \"My name, is Senilli. What's yours..?\" I froze as she rode off smiling.", "Claire sat on her bare mattress in her cold, damp cell looking at the bright night sky through the barred window. The gust of air that blew in was just as cold as her prison and made her shiver. \"It must be close to winter.\" She thought to herself but in truth she had absolutely no idea what day, what month or even what year it was. All that she knew for sure what that she was doomed. The thick chain and shackle attached to her ankles reminded her of that every time she looked at them. She was 18 years old when she won a trip to the Dominican off of a local radio station contest. The trip was supposed to be her last hoorah before college, before real life began. Claire decided to use her last night here to go to the club. She danced, drank and loved the attention the attractive man was giving her. That's when it all went blank. \n\nThe red light on her cell lit up and she knew what that meant. The beatings had forced that into her. She quickly moved to the center of the cell and knelt. The sound of the door being opened made her insides tighten. Her next client entered and stood in front of her waiting. She had lost track of how many men had used her. Claire recited her line they taught her in some foreign language as she seductively took off his belt and undid his pants.", "They came into his room, smoothly, slyly across the floor they stood around him. He, to invested in his work took no notice of the three figures standing, looming over him. Looking into his soul finding all those small idiocies, the ones that pull him, that left him in despair. Trying to talk to that girl in the 5th grade, it still haunts him how they all laughed at him. The figures worked, while he worked. While he learned, moved through source codes like they were air. Plucking names, and identities of those, those ones who laughed. The figures moved those emotions, urging him. Pushing him, to go deeper, find more, and eventually, do what he needed to do", "The couch had a strange smell, like someone had spilled coffee and forgot about it. She hid her hands under her thighs, not knowing where else to put them, and closed her eyes. He said he was in the bedroom getting the stuff but she could hear him rummaging around in one of the closets. Then he was back with a bag in his hands saying, ‘ah, fuck, I don't know where my keys are. Sorry, gimme a second’. \n\nHis car was masked with an air freshener but it was unbelievably musky in there, as if they’d just finished having sex or something. She tried to keep herself from grinning or shaking but he seemed anxious too; it was clear she couldn't control whatever was about to happen, but that was okay, that’s how it was supposed to be. Just take things as they come. \n\nHe gave her the lighter and told her to take the first hit. When she put the pipe to her lips it was sticky and wrong, almost violating. The undertone of sexuality was getting to her, it was the way the round end of the pipe rested against her mouth, and the smell... She clicked the lighter and inhaled, closing her eyes, squeezing them shut. Come on come on come on... \n\nIt hit her and he was grinning. ‘You like that?’ \n\nShe groaned. Oh... No, no...", "I haven't known this aridity in some time. The sun in its steady, searing gait had but peaked—the clock hit twelve. My sweat mixed with beads of hot blood as they fell like bronze bleeding from a statue, heated and eroded. In the days of my youth, that very heat was the biggest problem for my village—the sun was an impassible, insurmountable inevitability, one that we faced and endured together. \n\nI was skeptical of the Young Turks. The revolution caused nothing but tension across our empire; under their grasp, the Sick Man would die. As I approached the calamity that had formed in our village's market plaza, I sighed and could muster no tears for my brother's body. \n\nIt was curious—his blood complimented the sun bleached orange it pooled atop, he'd given it life and flavor. The men that killed him were long gone—revolutionaries, no doubt, for my brother was a devout loyalist, and I warned him against meddling in political affairs. \n\nBut, to each his own. As my sweat mixed with my blood and landed on his, I dragged his body across the desert sand. An impromptu burial. I am alone, and the sun in its slow, searing gait proceeded slowly above me.", "As Heather rode to school that day she thought about how this day was the same as every other day crappy, annoying, and exhausting. As she climbed the stairs to the school she automatically let her head drop and kept it down. That was her philosophy to middle school -no school -no life. Keep your head down and stay under the radar even if this meant letting the bullies have their way. At least you would survive manage to scrape by was more like it but at least you wouldn’t end up like Larry. As she entered the school she walked swiftly to her locker and got her books for her morning classes: math, history and gym. She looked at her watch 7:55. Oh shit! Homeroom is in five minutes! She said and I hate homeroom she added on an after note. As she crossed the threshold of the door her ears were assaulted with taunts and teases. But this time something was different this time her head rose and she looked the bullies straight in the eye and yelled, “STOP”. Surprisingly enough everyone stopped. Later that day as she was lying in bed she asked herself. Why? because Jennifer would do it and I LOVE JENNIFER. ", "\"She is so pretty\" Jack sighed.\n\n\"Here we go...\" said Charlie a annoyed. \"Just ask her out already\"\n\n\"I don't think she knows I exists. Besides, I have to finish preparing this computer for the\nnew guy, and I got a lot of work.\" Replied Jack trying to look busy.\n\nCharlie stood up, walked over to Jack’s desk. \n\n\"If you have so much work why are you browsing Reddit? For fucks sake man I will get the computer ready, stop making excuses and GO ASK HER OUT.\" Charlie said while taking to his desk.\n\n\"Fine.\" Jack replied.\n\nJack stood up, and started sweating.\n\n\"How do I look?\" Jack asked\n\n\"Dude... just go already.\" Replied Charlie\n\nJack started walking towards Denise's. He was trying to look as casual as possible, which meant he looked awkward.\n\n\"Hi\" Jack said.\n\n\"Hello\" Denise replied smiling.\n\n\"I was wondering...\" Jack felt the knot in his stomach tighten. \"Would you like to go eat sometime... outside, or something?\" Jack stumbled with the words.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I have a lot of work and a meeting in 5 minutes.\" Denise replied hastily.\n\nDenise took a piece of paper wrote something and gave it to Jack.\n\n\"Here is my number. Call me around 6.\" She smiled and left towards the elevator.\n\nJack slowly walked towards his desk while staring at the piece of paper.\n\n\"Dude\" Said Charlie.\n\nJack looked up just to find Charlie smiling with his hand raised.\n\nJack smiled and gave him a well-earned high five.\n\n", "Since the end of the Last War, all Sarah could do was walk. There no longer was anywhere to stop, nowhere to rest. There was only the pavement and the footsteps of the hippie gang. Before, there was never time to walk, she only owned sandals, all she needed for being at home with dad. The Nikes she wore now were currency from her first post war kill, the converse hidden in her backpack a reward for the silent aquiese to the Man in the truck two months ago. The gang was better than being alone. The walk was cleansing they said, but Sarah couldn't seem to forget her dad. Before, he always had ice cream, there was always laughing and he knew all the best places to find a frog, or a birds nest. She didn't think there were birds nest in this life. There was no school to glean the facts for, no dad to share a project with. The war itself hadn't been too bad while they were farming alone . Then The Man came. In the end the house was overrun. Sarahs room was no longer hers, the disney posters gone. So was the old dad. Now there was a new dad, with a creased forehead and a no smile.. Her footsteps on the ground made her think again of when she heard her fathers last, entering the kitchen with The Man, still no smile but with the crease gone, sending her off as he re-asserted the farm with the new found protection. But now The Man was gone too, thankfully, the converse the goodbye present to herself after he took her for the last time. She had told the gang they should walk to the farm, more than a 100 miles to go, The Man had controlled a lot.They thought it was sweet, just thirteen and tough enough to find her family. Sarah took her even steps, remembering the lack of crease and kept her fingers near the blade for the end of the journey. ", "She fled into the night, pursued by phantoms both imagined and real. The forest, looming and oppressive in the pale moonlight, greeted her with stabbing twigs and lashing branches: little reminders to continue on. Blood – she had not bled for two moons now – trickled down her face and arms. Behind her the baying of hounds echoed, confident and fearsome. Two miles to the river, two miles until she could wash her scent. Faster she ran, her faith not in God but in the strength of her legs. \n\nHer child would be born free.", "Jessica twitched and dropped the red 2 x 3 lego piece on the carpet when she heard the sound. It wasn’t the first time she heard Mommy and Robert arguing, but this was different. Louder. Scarier. She felt like she had to pee for a moment, but fought it off and picked up the lego piece. She absently stuck it on top of the others but then decided to just put it and the rest of them back in her small, wooden toy chest. \n\nChip was looking at her, his head tilted a bit to the side. He was still just a puppy, barely a year old, but he was at her side day and night. He wasn’t supposed to sleep in her bed but she would let him sometimes. He seemed to know when she needed him to cuddle with and when she was ok being alone. Those nights he would lay on the floor next to her bed, softly snoring in a calm, rhythmic manner that lulled her to sleep. \n\nThe yelling got louder, and she heard another sound, followed by Mommy crying. Jessica looked at Chip and he jumped up into her lap, nuzzling his cold, wet nose against her and looking at her with that dog smile that maybe isn’t a smile at all. She was convinced it was, and smiled back at him, scratching the fur behind his ears. \n\n“Don’t worry Chip,” she said in her softest voice. \n\n“We’ll be ok, I promise.”\n" ]	10
	[WP] You board a plane to travel to your favorite vacation spot. When the plane lands, you find yourself in the same city you departed from... but no other passenger finds this unusual, they all claim the plane left from your desired destination.	[ " You know these memories that seem to have no importance but just won't leave your mind even after years? I have one of those, from high school; The teacher asked us to chose a word which, in our minds, could summarize ourselves, mine was \"forgiveness\". I never forgot that. Forgiving might be seen as a virtue, by you, by my parents, by my exes, but to me forgiveness is a curse, a burden, and why not, my death sentence. \n I am 21 now, but I feel younger actually, I feel like the past is merely a story to tell your kids when they're bored, like the future is a breeze, the present is like a scent in the air that doesn't last long. Everything's paperweight. This thought terrifies me and keeps me awake every night of every week.\n As I was checking in the airport the past didn't seem to be so shadowy and ethereal because I had stitches and a black eye that were made in the past, but would vanish in the future, and thus I had no time to lose. I lived my whole life in a small village in the middle of nowhere, miles away from any road or highway, \"A town so small the back of the \"Welcome\" sign says \"See you soon\"\", said my grandfather, and because of that, standing in the airport, a two-hour drive from my hometown made me feel small and alienated. \n I was on the run from someone I loved deeply, running away was easier than staying again and forgiving him again and getting my face beaten again, I needed some time to myself, I needed to run from my brother. We are twins, he is 6 minutes older, I almost died from staying longer than I should've in the womb, because he pushed me and went first. He's like that.\n In the same year I said \"forgiveness\" was my word my brother had to push me and say his word in advance \"first\". That's how obnoxious he is. I can't help it though, I forgive him for that. And here I stand with a black eye and stitches in my side, they are his work, I am running away from him, the pain is in the way that makes his apologies seem acceptable. They are not.\n I'm in the plane now, having butterflies, it's my first time in a plane and every cell of my body tells me to go back and say that it's okay and that my brother didn't meant it and that... \"The captain is glad to inform that we'll be taking off shortly, thanks for choosing us\".\n It's too late now.\n\n I left the plane, I was shaking in excitement and fear, the foreign air filled my lungs, the people seemed so distant from the rush that moved through my veins, although the airport seemed so similar, I thought that they must all be the same, I checked out. \"Welcome back\" said gleefully the lady in the counter, I didn't mind her, probably mistook me from someone.\n The doors slid to the sides with a soft beep, my heart immediately jumped and sunk in my chest, I was back. Back to the town I left. The despair filled my stomach and I could barely turn my head to vomit on the ground, not on myself, some guards saw me and went over to help. They couldn't help me. They were gonna get me. I need to run. I need to run right now!!\n\n\n This was the last entry on my brother's notebook, I'm handling it over to you smart-asses so you can figure out what's wrong with him. Just to clarify what's real and what's not in this diary I must tell my brother his real story. He had an early birth, and a malfunction in his lungs, so they held him in the hospital for three weeks after he was born, I was four back then, he went on to live a childhood being scrawny as a bird, but it wasn't no brain over brawn sob-story, he was stupid as hell. When he was five we found out he had Alzheimer, pretty shocking such a youngster would gone cuckoo like that, so my parents got all protective of him, and started growing as apart from each other as my granny's boobs. When they divorced there was no lawyer or judge or no law buzzing on my parents life, each one had three days of the week with him and the last one would be shared. My father always insisted my brother needed to be number 1, he needed to be the first, and my mother always said he needed to let go of the past and forgive his enemies. They were so hard on this subject it ended up frying more of my brother busted circuits, he started acting like he had a twin, and in some events he would change his behavior and \"become\" the twin, he would leave the house late in the night and show up being all beaten up and stuff. And he would always try to run away. This last time was the worst. We had the airport crew aware of his constant attempts so we told them to pretend he was gonna get on a plane and then ring us, but then one day there was some accident and everybody was on their edges, he got on the plane this time. He disappeared for weeks. We were sure he was laying cold dead in the pool of some resort after forgetting how to swim. But he came back! Almost Six weeks after he left he came back with a bunch of STD's and his head was even worse. He died last week. Poor thing, imagine getting the plane and going back to your destination immediately. I'm sane as a lumberjack in the middle of the woods and my head would be fried if this happened to me. I guess his last words should be written here too:\n\n \"If I die in this hospital bed because of you brother, I forgive you. I am the first to do so ain't I?\"", "The memory issues had been getting worse, lately. The doctors said I should take some time off, de-stress-- it would help. Easy for them to say.\n\nI was stuck in the same airport I just fucking left. Even my ticket said I'd come from Texas, but here I was, back in New York. The whole situation felt oddly... familiar. Aw, shit. Familiarity was always the first sign.\n\nThe dizziness came next, as it always did. Then the pounding in my ears. I was taken by the sudden, overwhelming sense that I had lived this moment before-- maybe in a dream? No, no-- too vivid. I must have lived this moment properly! It's always hard to tell. It's usually hard to even think at all, so I'm not sure why I bother trying, except habit. Was that the sound of highway noise in the background? I knew to expect the scent of carpet glue-- it had been a minute since we last met, but carpet glue is nothing if not reliable. My stomach knotted up in anticipation of what came next.\n\nThe dread hit me like a freight train: full on, no ramp up, just the sudden obliteration of all my emotional self into the feeling-- no, the certainty, coming from the same part of myself that knows that 2 plus 2 equals 4-- that my life was meaningless and without any capacity for feeling happiness ever again. All the happiness was gone from the world, and all that was left for me was suffering and agony.\n\nThe smell intensified; I could swear the carpet glue had embedded itself inside my sinuses by this point. The sounds in my ears grew a little more intense. Louder than before, but somehow more muffled-- like somebody keeps piling towels on a radio, but turns up the volume to compensate. It always went like this-- the hallucinations getting more and more intense, until they top out just before the fear and dread reach their hellish little crescendo.\n\nThe Dementor-like feeling of hopelessness peaked, finally. The world wasn't looking much better, but it had stopped getting worse. The smell disappeared in an instant, and suddenly I could hear again-- though there was a slight ringing in my left ear.\n\nThe memories of my trip came flooding back to me. I had seen my family. I had visited my favorite places. I had eaten the delicious and oh-so-bad-for-me food that I simply can't get back east. The memories were happy. I had the ability to be happy. I'm usually happy. Why wouldn't I think that I could be happy again? I dunno, but I don't control it.\n\nIn truth, I really was back home; my fellow passengers were right. My bizarre feeling that the plane had just flown in circles just my brain's way of telling me to get ready for the shitstorm. I could suddenly see that.\n\nTotal elapsed time: maybe 45 seconds.\n\nStupid fucking seizures." ]	2
	[WP] Everyone must pay a tax for existing. Those who fail to pay are erased from reality.	[ "The Galactic Revenue Service was a bit strict about not paying taxes - Don't pay taxes, you will be erased from reality permanently. Gone. Nonexistant. Ever since the GRS was founded in 2065, approximately the peak of scientific discovery, there was global - galactic - chaos. The first reason being that suicide rates have skyrocketed, as of course, this was a simple and harmless way to die. Other than that, there were multiple other reasons that chaos ensued - critical politicians and government workers were disappearing, leading to international anarchy. \n\nand then /u/svenskarrmatey got lazy and stopped", "Once we got to the point where a human mind could be plugged into a VR that could be completely controlled, once a mind could leave the limits of reality behind, it was inevitable that someone would want to leave the suffering, every last iota of it, behind. \n\nThat is what we were here for.\n\nThere are several amateur attempts at programs that will put your mind into into a drug like haze of joy that lasts as long as you want, and doesn’t fade with time. But there aren't any programs that will suppress or remove stress instead of merely trying to swamp it with pleasure.\n\nThere are some sorrows that can’t be swamped.\n\nThere are some people who want the best experience possible.\n\nThere is a lot of money tied up in a successful simulation of perfect happiness.\n\nWe have made a program, an extremely detailed program. It isn’t even a simulation. It is a modifier for the customers mind. It can be removed at any time, but while it is active they will not suffer. It does not turn off all emotion and all stimuli, it is carefully targeted.\n\nIt carefully, delicately, nips pain in the bud. A customer is not transported to glorious heights except by their own will. While it works, a customer will not feel unhappy at any tragedy that might befall them, they will feel only the good things that are, that have happened to them. They will feel all of the joy and pride of having finally finished their carpentry project, without suffering from the cut they received on their thumb, and without any worry at the thought that their time could have been better spent.\n\nThis program of ours, our masterpiece, works perfectly, and because of this it is a disaster.\n\nAnyone who activates a successful version of the program is erased.\n\nIt is not that they cease responding to queries across the net, enraptured by their newfound freedom.\n\nThey are truly erased.\n\nIf they are housed in a server, the police will arrive at their real-world address to find a rectangle free of dust where their server once stood. If they are still biological, their sync pod will be found empty, no evidence of a body in any state of health will be found.\n\nThere have always been those who believed that there was something more to the universe, to life, than just matter and energy, and they are right.\n\nThe universe is alive, and we have found what its toll for our existence is." ]	2
Your character can be an original character, a character from someone else's work, or a character based on a real life person.	[WP] Make me sympathize with the most unsympathetic character you can think of	[ "I can't do it.\n I can't take a vampire and layer him with all the attributes of a hero until the reader says: I wish to be a vampire too.\n \nI tried. For half an hour I thought of all the charming vampires I had seen in films, I tried to remember that they did not burn, but rather shone with a pure brilliance in the sun, they drank the blood of animals, they drank, mosquito like, enough to survive but not enough to kill.\n\nThey took the blood voluntarily...sometimes.\n\nAfter all, not all mosquitoes are harmful enough to transfer disease.\n Vampires were surely harmless.\n\nI can only see a creature that steals and in stealing it wounds.\n\n I can only envision the harmless puncturing of the vein of an unknown victim, one hemophiliac, and the vampire sated with the lifeblood of another watching what remains flow out unresisting to end a life.\n\n\n", "All his life Markus has never loved anyone. Or even liked anyone for that matter. \"They're all idiots, every last fucking one.\" he'd tell himself this daily, it wasn't uncommon for him to say that publicly either. His house looked more like an abandoned shack then a home. The yard looked been attacked rather than mowed, and the mailbox seems to have received similar treat meant. One thing Markus prided himself on is telling people that they are bad at something. Especially when they enjoy doing it. \"I don't even understand why people like you try, just give up and get a job\" he told a man playing his guitar on the corner. Most people tried to connect with him, but he'd only push them away. Everyone wonder why that was.\nBut one thing they didn't know, is that Markus wasn't always like this. The reason why Markus never invited anyone into his house was because of his paintings. These paintings were the opposite of the cruddy, ran down shack he lived in. The colors seemed to fill his whole house! Each work of art could take you to a whole new world that had it's own unique beauty. There were so many that the piled around the living room and into the kitchen. But why didn't he share them with the world? Why did he keep the world out? It can all be understood by a half finished painting that is buried in the left hand corner of his living room. It was a painting of a girl, well half of one. You see Markus had a lover once. Sidney was her name. She had warm brown hair with curls that seemed like they would never be anything less than perfect. Just like Markus she was tall and thin and had bright green eyes. Where is she at now you ask? She's gone. Ran off for another man, and left Markus behind. The note she left didn't help. She told him she needed someone who could really provide for two. Someone that had a job and didn't purse silly dreams. Someone who accepted reality and didn't try to change it. Someone who wasn't Markus. This is what left Markus cold. This is what left him hollow. This is why he gave up on his dream.", "It's all gone wrong and it's all my fault.\n\nIt wasn't just the fact that she was dead. Someone else was obviously responsible for that... but then again, maybe not. I never did hear the cause of death, after all, and as I look at her in the casket I can't see a mark on her (just the most peaceful expression I've seen on her in a long, long time) For all I know, she just gave up on living. I wouldn't blame her for it either. Watching everything you've ever done, all the work you've ever put into making things better for everyone shatter because some buffoon said the wrong thing at the worst possible time... well, ranks only slightly above being the buffoon who did the deed in the first place. Dying was probably the most merciful thing that could have happened to her.\n\nBut it couldn't be my fault, now could it? HE did it! That slimy bastard wormed his way into all of our hearts, convinced us that he was the guy we could trust! I wasn't the only one that thought putting him in charge was a good idea, I was just the one who said it first! And I don't remember her complaining a whole lot after the vote was taken... or maybe that was just her boyfriend's hand on her shoulder convincing her it was okay.\n\nWe're still a ways off from the mausoleum, and the crowd just keeps growing thicker. I take a look around, try to catch the faces. I see grief in every expression, tears in eyes that I'm not sure are actually physically capable of producing them. I hear the sobs, choking with quickened breaths; I realize they're weeping like they've got rifles pressed against their backs, seconds from execution. They know what's coming. One man looks me dead in the eye, and I can't maintain contact long enough to see if it's anger or pity I see him directing my way. Either way, he knows I'm the one who made the first call to put that man as Chancellor, the one who tripped over the detonator that has set every planet aflame and drenched every planet in blood.\n\nI look at her face one more time before the pallbearers take her into the mausoleum. Mesa so sorry.", "Grandpaw scratched at the grubby crotch of his jeans and sucked at his teeth. He held a cheap can of beer in his other hand. There were partially crushed cans littered around the patchy lawn chair he lounged in, although Grandpaw's lounging was more akin to a sullen pooling of his body. Flies buzzed around him, mostly ignored until they would alight upon his face or hands.\n\n\"What'chu want?\" he scowled and moved his scratching hand up to pick at the dingy once-white t-shirt he was wearing.\n\nThe woman standing in front of his porch was pretty in a tired way. She was wearing a cheap pastel pink pantsuit bought second hand and too much eyeliner.\n\n\"Grandpaw, it's me, Shelly.\" Her voice was tremulous but edging into confidence.\n\n\"I knowed it was you, girl, what'chu want?\" Grandpaw took a pull from his beercan with the last syllable.\n\nShelly took a step forward, her toes at the first of the two concrete steps that led up to the porch and the peeling yellow house. \"I want to talk to you about somethin', Grandpaw.\"\n\n\"Yeah? What is it?\" he asked gruffly, adding, \"there's an Eastwood on 'bout fifteen minutes.\" He took on the kind of dumb slyness of a toddler trying to wheedle an extra cookie from his babysitter then. \"'Less'n you want'a come sit on Grandpaw's lap.\" He patted at his denim thigh.\n\nThe woman pushed a lock of frosted blonde hair off of her cheek but didn't move any closer. \"Why did you do them things to us, Grandpaw? We was just kids.\"\n\nThe old man shrugged, \"'Cause that's what my daddy did to me when I was a youngun. I imagine his daddy did the same. It's what I did to yer mama 'cept she never did complain none.\" He took another drink and crumpled the can and let it drop to the porch.\n\n\"Mama killed herself, Grandpaw. She hanged herself in that same house.\" Shelly pointed at the tear soaked, bedraggled house accusingly.\n\nGrandpaw shrugged again. \"Yep, right shame it 'twas. No daddy should have to bury his little girl. Why don't you come on up here and make us some Swansons and we'll watch that Eastwood like when you was a little girl.\"\n\nShelly put a foot on the first step, her face drawn and angry. \"You raped her, Grandpaw, you raped us, me and Sarah both.\"\n\n\"Wasn't no rapin' in this house, girl, just a father takin' his justs.\"\n\nShelly raced up to him then, shoving the old man and his chair over onto the cans and porch. His mouth gaped into an \"O\" as he struck. Shelly fled and Grandpaw watched as she got into her rusting Crown Victoria and drove away. He didn't try to get up.\n\nHis hip was broken and he had wet himself. He hadn't felt pain like this since he was a little boy and his father had taken his \"justs\" for the first time. He had always made sure not to force it with his girls, the way his father had, tearing him up down there. His hand lifted up after the dust cloud behind the Crown Vic. It was the only visit he'd had in ten years or more. Nobody came out here, not even a mailman. How long would it be before they found him here, starved to death with a broken hip, unable to move his old man's unwilling body?\n\n\"Mama,\" he croaked.\n" ]	4
	[WP] "You don't understand, it will stop at nothing."	[ "Laura had looked towards me, genuine fear and horror shinning in her eyes, her lips trembling as she comes close to shedding tears.\n\n\"Why does it want me so badly?\"\n\nI looked away from her as I slowly began to realize the error of my telling her that the most powerful and deadliest hybrid creation was after her because her boyfriend had been my brother and a different hybrid that had shared its power with me.\n\nIt was then that I began to realize that I, too, had been afraid, but not only for myself but for the ones I loved. I slowly began realizing that if I couldn't find a way, anyway at all, to put Sarrek down once and for all, that I would live to see everyone I care for die. At that moment and in my realization, an intense rage had begun to form itself into my mind and my heart and struggling to control it, I began to picture the monster's face in my mind.\n\n\"Sarrek wants you....because you're unknowingly in a relationship with my brother and my brother is a hybrid, as am I for that matter. It's because of this reason that he...It....will stop at nothing until it's found you and killed you to get to me and him. I give you my word, Laura..... Nothing and No-One will hurt you, as long as there's a breath in my body and as long as my power permits me, I will fight to keep you and everyone else I care for safe.\" ", "\"It will sweep across the galaxy and destroy all of us. You think he will rest? You think he will stop? This is evil....and corrupted power and nothing that we have ever faced.\"\n\"Is there even a chance to defend what we have?\"\n\"A very slim chance but oryx is no fool,if you think crota was a god? Then you'd be mistaken,oryx makes crota look like an ant in comparison......the devil himself has come for us because we have killed his son. How do you expect to stop him? \n\"Eris,do you have any plan or idea?\"\nEris walked forward and stood next to cayde. \n\"Oryx.......is the father of crota and we struck him down in cold blood. How would you feel if your child was killed in a such way? Oryx is in pain but that does not mean that he will show mercy and we ALL saw what happened to those who stand in his way. The Cabal were taken by oryx and thrush back into our reality but they weren't the same....they were changed and corrupted and forcibly given power by oryx. The Fallen and The Vex are next.\" \n\"Wait a minute how are The Vex being corrupted? They are a superpower of The Darkness themselves,able to be on the plain of space and time all together.\" Cayde asked.\nEris turned to cayde and slowly started to come closer. \"Eris,space please.\"\n\"I apologize sometimes I hear better than I see.\" She replied and continued the discussion\n\"The Vex are beings of darkness,aren't they? It does not matter,oryx can and will take them....for his army.\"\n\"An army? He's building an army?!\" Zavala exclaimed\n\"Yes an army of taken. He's going after all our enemies.\" Explained Eris\n\"Well that's good. How about we just let him do that and wipe em all out.\" Cayde asked\n\"That wouldn't be the best scenario. He would still come for us but with the whole galaxy behind him and we are only a few compared to the numbers that he might possibly have.\"replied Eris.\n\"Is it possible for him to take guardians?\" Ikora asked\n\"No,I don't even think oryx wants to take guardians. We are filled with light and oryx is a form of darkness himself,his ultimate goal....is extinction....our extinction.\" Eris replied with a heavy head and looked down.\n\"So we have a tyrannical God with unlimited power who's hot on our tail who wants nothing more than revenge and our heads on a platter,did I miss something? Cayde asked and everyone stared with a look of fear at him.\n\"No in Simplicity,you didn't.\"Eris replied sadly.\n\"Well damn I was kinda thinking I was going to be wrong. Zavala,how many guardians do we have out in the field? Asked cayde\n\"Almost all of them,why?\" Zavala answered and asked\n\"It's time to make a speech.\" Cayde replied confidently \n\"You a speech?\" Zavala chuckled\n\"Yes,get me on the line.\" Cayde said seriously\nSome time later.......\n\"Alright you're live Cayde.\" Said ikora \nCayde snapped his Exo fingers to make sure,it looked live from the feedback.\n\"Alright......this is cayde six of the hunter vanguard sending a message to all guardians. Now you're all big boys and girls so I'm going to be frank with you. Death is at our door,I know that is morbid to say but the gravity of the situation calls for it. Crota's dad,Oryx is what he's called is here and wants revenge for the death of his son. I guess sticking his son with his own sword wasn't on his list. Oryx has an army called The Taken and some of you may have had run ins with him and some of you that haven't. Do not underestimate them, they aggressive,calculating,and nothing like we've ever faced.\" Cayde took a long pause and thought about his next word.\n\"Oryx's gameplan is our utter extinction whether we all have a grasp at what that means or not,he means to kill us all. All of this might seem huge and he might seem impossible to defeat but we stopped Atheon and Crota and even Skolas of the House of Wolves,why is Oryx any different from them? I will not lay down and die while Oryx rolls over us and takes what we hold dear. I don't expect a lot of us to make it out alive and I don't either but that's the sacrifice I'm willing to make to send this bastard back to where he came from. Show them what we got guardians,show them the power of the light and give em hell.\" Cayde finished and moved to the hanger.\n\"Did you mean all that?\" Ikora asked\nCayde turned around \"Yeah I did,I don't expect to make it but we all get taken out at one point it might as well be for a reason.\"\nZavala looked at Cayde with a affirming smile and then looked back at the rest of the vanguard. \n\"Well like the Exo said......let's give em hell.\"\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] The entire world loses all its WiFi, except for one place. Your body is the only WiFi hot-spot on the planet.	[ "\tIt just happened one night. I woke up at 7 to get ready for work just like any other day. I checked my emails, no new one since I checked the night before. I hope in the shower, listen to Pandora, and head to the kitchen to eat some breakfast. I head out to my car to head to work when I start to notice something different. \n\n\tOne of my neighbors was standing outside his car, looking puzzled at a map spread across the hood of his car. I start to drive to work, and see a few cars pulled over with more people looking at maps. I checked my phone to see if I have any emails again, however there still was none. This was extremely odd as I know my colleagues get in a hour before me to straighten out any issues that arose overnight, which they were supposed to send me an update 15 minutes ago. \n\n\tI pull into my parking spot and notice a few empty spots near me. I walk into the office, but I see complete chaos. The receptionist is running across offices, the IT team is working on the main computers, mainly the ones directly attached to the internet. I walk up to Red, our head IT, and ask him what is going on? \n\t\n\tRed looks up at me when he answers, \"Internet's been down all morning. We are trying to get it back on.\" He looks back down at the computer and exclaims, \"Hey guys, I have internet over here!\" \n\n\tHalf the office comes running to Red, almost knocking him over to get access to the internet. I back away, heading over to my office on the other side of the building. \"No! It's already gone!\" I hear from behind me. \n\t\n\tI get to my desk and see that my internet is working fine. I send a few emails from yesterday that I never got to, and let my assistant, Carol, know that if she needs to use the internet, it seems to be working in my office. She walks in with her laptop and is shocked by that fact. \"The internet is down everywhere,\" Carol says, \"I almost didn't get to work on time today because my normal alarm clock is on my computer through the internet. Thank goodness my husband still believes in analog clocks to wake him up, or else I would be in the same boat as everyone that isn't here yet.\"\n\n\t\"That's really weird,\" I say, scratching my chin. \"I had internet all morning.\"\n\n\t\"Maybe you're just lucky. You've turned into your own hot spot,\" She joked. \n\n\tI continue my work, but can't help but look online as to what is going on, but I notice nothing has been updated since yesterday, and by nothing, I mean nothing. No news, no Facebook, not even Reddit has had any action. \n\n\t\"Carol,\" I ask, \"Can you get the TV from the break room and bring it in here? I want to see what the news says about this internet problem.\"\n\n\t\"No problem boss!\" She said, getting out of under her laptop and walking out of the office. A few minutes later, she wheels in the TV, but has a couple other people following her in, carrying their own laptops.\n\n\t\"Hey boss, I have the TV, but a few people in other departments need to access the internet as well. Do you mind if they stay?\"\n\n\t\"Not at all,\" I said, \"As long as I can hear the news, you can use the internet all you want.\" \n\n\tCarol turns the TV on for me, switching it to channel 5. The news is in the middle of the weather, so I check my email again, still nothing. The news transfers back to the main anchors.\n\t\n\t\"For those of you just tuning in, there is a global internet outage. Specialists across the globe are currently working on diagnosing the problem, however if anyone has any internet access, please contact the Department of Homeland Security at the number listed below.\"\n\n\tI didn't understand why Homeland Security would be involved with this, but I guess they want internet just as much as the next guy. \n\n\t\"Hey,\" said one of the temps who came into the office, \"We should call that number. Maybe they will figure out why this office has internet and no where else does!\"\n\n\t\"Hey kid,\" I say, \"Do you want to continue working in this building or do you want the government to come in here, kick us out of our own company, and use our internet access for themselves? Because as soon as we say we have access, they will come here and use the web as if they worked in the building from the start.\" I stare into his eyes and say, \"Get whatever you need on the internet done, and get back to your office.\"\n\n\tI write a few more emails, though now I feel it is futile if no one else can read them, so I go down to the cafeteria for lunch. There's a lot more people sitting down here than normal, most waiting in line for the register. The cashier looks very flustered, so I walk up to her to see if she needs any help. \n\n\t\"Oh no thank you,\" She answers. \"We've been having problems all day with this POS machine. Since it's hooked up to the internet for the costs associated with each item, I have to input all the data manually instead.\" She looks back at her machine and does a double take. \"It's back!\" She exclaims. \"I gotta hurry through these before it goes again. Thanks boss, you seem to be my lucky charm,\" She says with a quick flash of a smile before going back to work. \n\t\t\n\tI continue through the room, many people looking at their phones, hoping for a sign, or a bar in this case. I walk over to a few of them, when I hear, \"It's back!\" from next to me. I keep going and hear the same person say, \"Oh no, it's gone again....\" I become a little confused by all of this happening, so I walk back near that person again and I hear, \"There it is again! Yes, I can finally do this download!\"\n\n\tI decide something fishy is going on, so I move over to a different group of people. I hear collectively sad oh's from the people that I just left, and a few yes's from the people I am near. I have a weird feeling about this. \n\n\tI head back up to my office, seeing everyone has left. I look for Carol at her desk and ask her to come into my office. \"Carol,\" I say, \"Something odd is happening. Was there internet in here once I left?\" \n\n\t\"No,\" She answers. \"As soon as you hit the elevator, all the internet went down again. I guess you really are the internet hub,\" She answered jokingly. \n\n\t\"Thanks Carol,\" I respond. \"Please cancel all my meetings today. I'm got something important I have to do outside of the office.\"\n\n\t\"Ok boss!\" She goes back to her desk and starts making phone calls as I go back to the elevator and head towards the main lobby. The receptionist still is frantic, trying to help everyone without the help of the internet. I continue outside to my car. \n\n\tI get to my car, open the door, when I am suddenly surrounded by cops, and these cops have guns. Not just the normal hand guns, but I mean AK-47s and Carbon 15s. I lay on the ground when I get my head covered in a sack. All I hear before I get in the car is \"Hey guys, it's back!\"\n\n*****************************************\n\n\tI wake up attached to machines. My arms and legs are strapped down, but I'm alive. I have an IV through my left arm and what looks like a Ethernet cord put through my right. \"What's going on?\" I ask. \"Is anyone there?\"\n\n\t\"Hello Tina,\" I hear a woman say behind me. \"You are safe. You are in the White House.\" The lady moves in front of me so I can see her face.\n\n\t\"The White House? Why am I here? And why am I restrained?\" I ask, pulling at my arm straps.\n\n\t\"Well, to be frank, the government needed your help. You are currently the only access throughout the world to the internet, so, for the greater good of America, you were brought here. We had specialists take a look at you, where they found out if they plug you in,\" gesturing to the cord in my arm, \"We can access your WiFi throughout the entire capitol! The science behind it is truly fascinating.\"\n\n\t\"But what about me?\" I ask. \"What will happen to me?\"\n\n\tShe looked at me with knowing eyes. \"Well,\" she said, \"We have created an apartment for you to stay at here. As long as you keep that plug in and stay in this room, you are free to do what you will.\" With that, she walked over to me, removed the IV, walked out of the room, closed the door behind her. I heard a dead bolt being turned, and then my bindings unlocked. I stood up, walked over to the computer in the room, only to find I have no internet access.\n", "“You goin’ camping or somethin?”\n\n“Something like that.”\n\n“At 3AM?”\n\nYou don’t answer. The cashier woman continues to chew her gum with lipstick-stained teeth, scanning the 7th can of store brand refried beans. The massive pile of non-perishable food items, batteries, matches, and lighter fluid inches closer on the belt. \n\n“Seems like a lot for one person.”\n\n “I’m going with friends.”\n\nThe last time you spoke to your friends, it was to tell them that they would never see you again. That was years ago. \n\n“We used to take the kids campin’ up at Lake Arrowhead ‘round summertime,” she blows a bubble and lets it pop before continuing, “Now they refuse to leave the house.”\n\n“Probably grew out of it.” You notice your hands are growing noticeably sweaty. You try to indicate the end of the conversation by feigning interest in the rack of tabloids.\n\nPOPE CALLS WIFI DISAPPEARANCE A BLESSING, “GOD WANTS US TO MAKE REAL CONNECTIONS”\n\nThat didn’t help. You flip it over. On the back, there’s a Verizon ad:\n\nTHE END OF WIFI IS NOT THE END OF WIRELESS. 3G PLANS STARTING AS LOW AS $5,000 A MONTH\n\n“I’m telling you, it’s cause kids these days are addicted to the Internet.”\n\nYou weren’t listening. In your peripherals, you could’ve sworn you saw someone else in the store. But there shouldn’t be anyone here at this hour. That was exactly why you came.\n\nAs the cashier goes on about camping, you catch a glimpse of him. A man in dark clothing, approaching your aisle. Clothing that looked an awful lot like the uniforms that those men wore. The ones who tried to take you away.\n\n“I tell ya, if the world ever gets its WiFi back, the first thing I’m gonna do is get it rigged up in that old RV. You bet your ass my kids will come camping with me then.” \n\nHe’s right behind you now. He’s cradling a blue Powerade and microwavable mac n’ cheese. Thank God. It’s only a stoner. \n\nBut just to play it safe…\n\n“I’m kinda in a rush. Can I pay for this and go?”\n\nHalf of your groceries are still on the belt. The woman stares at you, “You tellin me to put all that back?”\n\nThe stoner, growing impatient with the scene in front of him, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.\n\nThere isn’t much time.\n\n“I’m sorry, really,” You unfold the wad of twenties you had balled up in your fist and toss them at her. They’re damp with sweat.\n\n “This is more than-\n\n“Holy. Shit.” \n\nYou both turn to the stoner. He is staring at his phone in disbelief. \n\n“Dude. It’s a signal. I…I’m getting a WiFi signal.”\n\nYour stomach drops.\n\nAs if on cue, the cashier checks her phone.\n\n“Lord Almighty, it’s back.”\n\n“That’s impossible,” you say. It’s what your parents said when you first told them. Back in the days when you thought it was safe to tell people. \n\n“Then what do you call that?” The cashier shoves her phone in your face. You already know what you’re going to see. \n\nThere it is, your first name, the name you can never tell a soul, clear and bright on the backlit screen. You’re emitting a fairly strong signal. Not bad, considering how nauseous you feel at the moment. \n\n“It looks like it needs a password,” You mutter as you fumble for your bags. \n\n\n“Jesus, you gotta be kidding me.”\n\nBy the time she has started guessing, you’re already out the door. \n\nTomorrow, there will be headlines. It won’t be safe here. You’ll pack up camp and head deeper into the woods. When it comes time to buy supplies, you’ll find a new town with a new store.\n\nOf course you’ll get caught eventually. It’s only a matter of time. They’ve already taken everything from you, and they won’t stop until they’ve got the one thing you have that no one else does. \n\nWhen they do come, you won’t let them take your gift. They can’t. They don’t know the password. \n\nAnd neither do you. ", "It was all over the news. No wifi, anywhere. I sat on my sofa, eating pop tarts. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, a message flashed across the screen. It was from my neighbor. \n\n'Dude! I found a wi-fi point, no lock. It was called Mark Kernel, so I thought you would know about it.' I certainly did not know about it. I looked down at my arm. Three green dots, two of them bleeping. I was a wifi hotspot.\n\nIt was no surprise that the media found out. Later that day the first media outlet showed up, the next 20 more, this happened for a while until I had enough. I had become a pilgrimage, now living in a museum of sorts, detailing the internet. I was the selling point, you could actually view the internet, which had been in a frozen state since the museum was founded. Nobody could post, nobody could edit, they had locked everything. Lately, someone had been leaving clues that they could pass the code, post new things. First it was new reddit posts appearing, then 4chan. \n\nThere was one post that really grabbed my attention. It was a reddit post. Once I saw it, I knew what I had to do. It just said ' Texas. Border. Just you Mark.' Poof. It was gone. Hopefully they will not hurt me. Maybe they will tell me why. My name is Mark. I am WiFi. I will find out why and how.", "\"Just let me plug in!\"\n\nFuck off. Living with Jamal has become a real pain in the ass since he stopped going to work because not only am I preparing his food, I'm providing his food without expense. The only kicker of our relationship is by some means he is paying the rent, and most importantly our not-so-much-of-a-godsend Comcast Uvere Internet that randomly goes from 15 mpbs to .5 mbps: truly bipolar, just like Jamal. He's been bugging lately expressing that he read on some site called Yettit that he could get faster speeds if he ran a cord halfway across our apartment living space. Yeah, what happens when Teresa comes over and her crutch takes out your LAN connection now? Not happening because I value Teresa ten times, if not infinetly more than leaving this apartment more of an embarassing and cluttered space. I can only deal with so much, and patience is by no means a virtue I keep dear to my heart: I'm a hot head.\n\n\"You want to starve, cocksucker? I can do that if I see a yellow cord running anywhere along the walkspace to your shitsmelling room. No is no - get a Laptop already!\"\n\nHe is out of control.\n\n\"Laptops are SHIT, I keep telling you this, girl - WiFi is SHIT and is why I can't ever get a good game of League of Legends. If I had STABLE internet, I could actually win my promotions to platinum without tilting because I can't control my character! Just. Let. ME!\"\n\nIf this is the way he treats other people, just imagine how others in that game must be like. I feel like the real victim here because I've got to cope with this shit everyday I come home.\n\n\"Fuck. No! \"\n\nI actually punched the wall. It did nothing to the wall, except make him slide back in his swivel chair to get a proper look at me through the tiny crack in the doorway he elected to have instead of coming to speak face to face about his 'issues'. Maybe if he did that, I would take it seriously.\n\n\"Yo, don't be hitting that god damn WALL! I'm not paying to have it fixed, you HEAR?!\"\n\nHe actually raised his voice at me. Like I could actually leave a dent on that wall? I slapped my hand against the wall as I watched him straggle about in his room in uncertainty of whether or not he wanted to leave to speak with me. I need to pressure him to get what I want. It worked.\n\n\"What did I fucking say, look, I'm in a ranked game, you have to knock this shit off right now or I'm going to- \"\n\nThe lights dimmed, and flickered along with the alarms within the housing from security systems to electrical appliances.\n\n\"Aw SHIT, always bad TIMING! Fuck SAKE my team is going to REPORT ME!\"\n\nThe power returned within a few moments, and as did my interest in seeing this matter through because his frustration is amusing to watch in an odd way. Maybe I'm a bit of a sadist and I can't come to terms with it, but I just like to watch him struggle when it's so easy to trigger him. Whatever, I need to check Facebook. The growling coming from the chasm of our walkway diminished as I laid myself down on the one good couch we had. I laid there, and looked through my phone. Strangely enough, 4g seemed to be down because after the minutes of mumbling a strange silence could be felt linger in the house. Maybe it's because Jamal is staring at the computer, waiting in anticipation for it to load after running out of cusses to say about how 'unlucky' he is.\n\n\"Hey, Jess, shouldn't the internet be on by now?\" he said in a less-forced, almost genuinely concerned type of way that he only truly uses when he's speaking with his mother on the phone. You know, thinking about it now, it has been about 20 minutes since power had turned back on after that flicker. \n\n\"Wait, nevermind, did our Router rename itself to J E S S - Jess, and it's open? What did I say about touching my shit? Most importantly, you OPENED the network up to the public? You trying to get the NSA in on my shit?!\" \n\nI had no idea what to say, but an idea came to mind to get him off my back when I try to think of a funny joke to text to Teresa.\n\n\"Don't you got a Legends League game to finish?\"\n\n\"Shit, yeah.. Fuck you, though, for real. If this some joke, nah... - not COOL!\" I could hear him slap his hand down on his mouse from out here like an echo through some chasm. Except, since it's a mouse he probably slammed, it would be a squeak. Yeah, girls can be good at making jokes, too!\n\n\"Yo, this is weird. All my teammates are disconnected. The fuck? Nah, No argument from me - give me that free LP bruddah'!\" \n\nHe laughed manically. Still, no response from Teresa. She's usually quite a fast texter, but maybe she's going somewhere. She can't walk and text like everyone else, since she is handicapped and uses crutches. I can't expect too much from her. But finally, a message:\n\n\"Jess, the internet isn't working. Who's your provider?\"\n\nComcast, but who cares if I'm not even paying for it. I want to watch television. I switch it on, and instead of a reality tv show, I'm faced with a middle age man tight-fitted in a suit and a disappointed look on his face with a scrolling banner that says \"Internet is reported to be down in these locations\" followed by the very same man discussing the scale of this supposed phenomena. Is this for real? When will it be back?\n\n\"Yo, Jess, I'm Platinum now - Wussup! Give me five - Yo didn't know you were into the news, 'less this is one of those parody shows. Shit, what is he saying?\"\n\n\"The internets' out across the country.\"\n\n\"But ours is working just fine.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Jamal?\"\n\n\"Look, I'll show you, I'm in queue right now, but we'll load onto my site I hadn't checked out today, yeah.\"\n\nBy his site he means world star hip hop. I have no idea what the attraction is for this site to even begin with. Like, who visits it? Except this time when it seems apparent to what we can assume is fact, there it was a loaded web page and video of an unknown rapper victimizing my ears with his bad singing that even auto tuning couldn't fix. \n\n\"Can you check Yahoo, CNN to confirm that this is true?\"\n\n'Yeah, I mean, I don't go to those sites, but alright girl let me type 'em in. Nope, nothing on either - look.\"\n\nThat's when it got to me. If they don't have access to the internet, how can they change their website.\n\n\"I don't think they can change it.\"\n\n\"Shit, you're right. So you think we actually had good internet the whole time? For real, I'm lucky for once? Dang. Weird, I can't log into the router and make it protected. You did this, right?\"\n\n\"No, I didn't. I wouldn't know how to anyways.\"\n\n\"Check the router.\"\n\nI stepped over to the router, and as I turned to him from down the hall, his mouth seemed to open.\n\n\"Come back over here, actually.\"\n\nI came closer to him, uncertain of what he is going on about.\n\n\"Nah go back...\"\n\nI stop, midway, uncertain what he is going on about\n\n\"To the router?\"\n\nI og back to the router. \n\n\"You have a pocket wifi on you, or something? The packets I'm sending, and the little bars on the Wifi get tinier when you walk further away. But I can't seem to get access to the router. I don't think it is our router I'm linked to. \"\n\n\"Then what are you connected to?\"\n\n\"You, and this time - I don't think I will be needing to hook you up to my computer to make the most of this predicament.\" \n", "SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT\n\nI leap a barrel and slide under some piping, hiding there for a moment. I can hear there footsteps behinds me, the hoard as I now tend to think of it.\n\nIt was the kids. When the wifi dropped out the adults just went back to using ethernet cables and carried on with their lives, but the kids couldn't grasp the concept. \"A wire?\" one had said \"I don't get it\". I think the loss of internet had lowered their collective IQ around 50 points.\n\nThe footsteps grew closer \"He must've ran into that warehouse, I have some signal over here!\". I take a deep breath and slide out of my hiding place. I hate how easily they can track me. I make it out the back door just as they enter the front, but they see me go. \n\"Guys he just went out the back!\" \n\"Hey my cat picture uploaded!\"\n\nRunning down a back alley I come to a low fence. Six months ago I wouldn't have been able to climb it, but after running so long I vault straight over it. I slow to get my breath back and emerge from the other end of the alley. The hoard is there.\n\nMaybe 300 kids are staring at me, none of them look older than 17. If you've ever walked down the street, seen some hoodies and felt a bit scared to walk past them... magnify it by a thousand and then arm them all with mobile phones and laptops.\n\nNone of them move. I'm still breathing heavily.\n\n\"He's not running, the wifi signal is dropping out. Get him!\"\n\nSHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT\n\nI make for a gap in the crowd, as they start to mob me, whacking me with their phones to motivate me to run. Oh god.\n\nI sprint up the road and the crowd follows me at a jog, uploading selfies of them running, their fitness statistics and tweeting each other a meme about bears.\n\nWell at least one thing has come out of this.\n\nThe childhood obesity epidemic is over.", "They were all crowding around me. All with devices in their hands: phones, tablets, phablets, laptops - even a couple of dudes at the back with desktop computers. And, unbelievably, someone had brought their toilet to sit on while he scrolled his phone. I was wondering how the bloody hell he'd got it here before, for the umpteenth time, someone asked me, \"What's the password?\"\n\n\"For fuck's sake,\" I said, \"For the last bloody time, it's 1234.\"\n\nI'd narrowed in on the teenager who asked just as he was opening his mouth for the next statement.\n\n\"You know that's a low-strength password, right?\" he asked, oblivious to the fact that my rage was about to overflow.\n\nAs soon as I saw red the crowd suddenly let out a huge collective groan. \n\n\"WiFi's not working,\" said the kid, tapping away.\n\n\"Well sooorry,\" I replied, laying on the sarcasm thick. \"It's not my fault. I still don't know why I'm a WiFi hotspot.\"\n\nThe collective grumbling and mumbling slowly built to a loud roar. People were pissed. A few had obviously had their porn videos stopped premature of the climax, while others had websites cut out mid-load. There were a few that were smart and had spent their time being connected to download* what they wanted - but they were few and far between.\n\nPeople started shouting in angst, but one voice sounded over them all.\n\nIt was that fucking kid.\n\n\"What if we turn him off and turn him on again?\" He'd finally looked up from his tablet. His most striking feature, funnily enough, was a bowl cut. \n\n\"You really are an idiot - I'm a fucking human being,\" I said.\n\n\"It's worth a shot,\" he replied. \n\nThat, funnily enough, seemed to strike a chord with the crowd. \n\n\"Yeah!\" someone said. \"Turn him off and turn him on again!\"\n\n\"Yeah right guys,\" I laughed, \"Good luck with that.\"\n\nThe crowd seemed to digest these words and it simmered with them for thirty second.\n\nThen the kid - that fucking kid - let out a war cry I though was incapable for his weedy body and the mob followed suit. The roar was raised; the crowd rushed forward. Bodies pushed in on me from all sides. Oxygen seemed to leave me. I gasped and screamed and screamed but soon enough someone clubbed me on the head and all I saw next was black.", "I woke up to exaggerated moaning and looked over to see my roommate crouched down by my bed, his face illuminated by his laptop.\n\n\"Are you jerking it?\" I said\n\n\"No\" he said after a pause that meant he was.\n\n\"The signal reaches your bed\"\n\n\"It even works out in the hall\" said someone from the hall\n\n\"Yeah I have a full signal out here\" said someone else\n\n\"I only have a half signal\" said a third person\n\n\"Ok but I'm already kind of doing my thing here sooooo….\" said my roommate\n\nI sighed and rolled over.\n\n…\n\nIn class the teacher drones as various joints jab into my body. No matter how often I tell them, people never seem to realize how far the signal reaches.\n\nNot that I should complain. The school pays me to take certain classes. Not a lot of money, definitely way less than setting up a shit ton of ethernet cables, but still, money.\n\n\"Ah man the signals out\" this happens sometimes, I have no control over it. They don't know this and they seem unwilling to learn.\n\n\"Just give it a second\" I said\n\n\"Remember when you could just turn things on and off again?\" said someone behind me\n\n\"Well we could still technically do that\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"Well we could just knock him out\"\n\n\"Please don't\" I said as a heavy textbook crashed into the back of my head and everything went dark.\n\nWater splashed against my face and I sat up breathing heavily. I was on the floor at the front of the class. Everyone was looking at me.\n\n\"Signals back up\" \n\nI sighed and lay back down again.\n\n…\n\nI was walking towards the campus clinic when a van screeched to a stop in front of me. The panel door slid open and a guy in a mask aimed a shotgun at me.\n\n\"I actually just look like the wifi guy\" I said before he fired.\n\nA beanbag round hit me in the head, knocking me to the ground.\n\n\"You're not supposed to shoot him in the head, it might fuck up the wifi\" said the driver\n\n\"Right\" said the gunman. He got out of the van and walked over to me, aiming the shotgun at me.\n\n\"Just give it a second…\" I said before he fired a bean bag round into my gut and I passed out.\n\n…\n\nI woke up in a cheap motel room. I sat up rubbing my head and looked around. Someone was sitting at the desk on a computer.\n\n\"Sorry about that\"\n\n\"Where am I\"\n\n\"Probably best you don't know. And done\"\n\n\"Great\" said the gunman rising from the corner with the shotgun.\n\n\"Is that really necessary\" I said as he fired it at my head knocking me off the bed\n\n\"Was that necessary?\" said the computer guy\n\n\"Now that I think about it probably not\"\n\n…\n\nThe panel door slides open and they toss me out onto the sidewalk in front of my dorm room.\n\n\"Your government thanks you\" said the gunman\n\n\"We'll be in touch\" said the driver\n\n\"No that's ok\" I mumble into the sidewalk as they peel off.\n\nI lay there for a minute then forced myself up and went back to my room and fell face down on the bed.\n\nThere was a knock on the door.\n\n\"What\" I said.\n\n\"I saw you were tossed out of a van. Did the government take your wifi away?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Awesome\"\n\nAcross the room I heard my roommate open his computer." ]	7
	[WP] Deep sea explorers have found the sunken city of R'lyeh, and cracked open the temple doors. Inside awaits Cthulhu, who's rather wide awake and preoccupied with something...	[ "Lights pierced through the murky gloom as we dove ever further down the Marina Trench. Harold scanned the sonar screen, and Captain Jim was calm. I, on the other hand, felt like the hula girl on the sub's control board: watched.\n\nC. Jim and Harold didn't seem to notice the presence that I felt. They seemed completely oblivious.\n\nI don't know how they couldn't feel it.\n\nIt was when I was about to bring it up that we began the final descent. I couldn't bring it up then - it required the utmost concentration to find a spot to rest the sub, as well as actually settling it.\n\nWe descended to the area shown on the sonar to be a clearing of rock, but there wasn't anything to hit. We couldn't see anything to tell us for sure, but I can tell you now that we went below the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Harold and C. Jim don't remember it, but I do.\n\nThey fell unconscious once we passed the non-existent barrier. The aboveground medics didn't find any drugs in their system or any marks on their heads, but I can tell you why they slept.\n\nThey did not believe in the Old One, the One who lived at the bottom of the sea. (Well, ocean, but sea sounds more poetic) \nThe One that allowed me to live.\n\nFifty feet below the facade, the sub touched ground. I tried to wake up the Captain and Harold, but neither of them stirred. At that point, I broke protocol and set out on my own in the depth suit. The only thing that kept me from getting lost in the dark was a cable and a specialized sonar display.\n\nI had barely taken five steps from the sub before I found an archway. An archway! Mikes below the surface, an archway to a city. I wandered for what must have been hours, just exploring the place.\n\nEventually, though, I found myself drawn to the watcher, to the One. I was terrified every step of the way, but my curiosity drove me on. \nI really need some common sense.\n\nWhen I found the One, I was awed. Xie was in a lower form of Xis true glory, taking on a form that my mortal mind could handle. Xie was amazing, nonetheless.\n\nI watched in awe for a time of which I lost count, just watching Xim at Xis activity. There wasn't a single mistake, not a single error.\n\nI had never before, and have never since, seen someone play Guitar Hero so well." ]	1
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, соνered with her blue silk scarf.	[WP]Use this passage about a girl in Starbucks with a hidden bloody knife and silk scarf to write a story	[ "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She glanced down at it, eyeing the maroon purse beside its blade. It had been almost fifteen minutes since she’d tried to check her makeup, ten minutes since she’d blindly applied her mascara. For all she knew, she’d completely missed her eyes and drawn swastikas all over her own forehead with the black-hued brush. She needed to check, needed to plunge her hand into the bag and grab for the mirror. She needed to be sure she wasn’t inadvertently advertising herself as a Nazi in a SoHo Starbucks. Yet the danger, the unparalleled sharpness of the blade, it was too much of a risk.\n\nSarah glanced back up at Harry, his thin, gel-twirled mustache the least hipster thing about him. No, that was established by the way his oversized, thick framed, glassless-glasses sat a few inches too low his nose, the way he wore what appeared to be his newborn sister’s skinny jeans, the way his beard poofed out from his deceptively weak jaw. Still, he was incredibly attractive, even while he spoke about how little he enjoyed the taste of meat and how much he preferred riding fixed-gear bicycles. It was hardly the worst blind date she’d been on. Although, if she’d unintentionally been presenting herself as a Nazi—and had Harry not been the least bit offended—than perhaps it would soon be on its way to the top of the list.\n\nGlancing back at the purse on the floor, the bloodied knife buried beside it under the blue, silk scarf, Sarah sighed heavily. That knife, that disguised weapon, it was the only thing standing in her way. She just wanted to check her mascara, make sure she’d circled her eyes and not somehow deviated from the path and constructed two interlocking lines across the middle of her forehead like Charles Manson considering tattoos. Just one glance, that’s all she’d need. A simple reach and a bit of careful navigation, she’d be fine. She just wouldn’t cut herself on the blade this time, would take her time while reaching in and not inadvertently stab herself. It would be simple, elementary even. She’d just carefully maneuver her hand into the bag, grab the mirror, and not cut her entire arm during the process. Sarah leaned forward and plunged her hand blindly into the depths of the purse, the knife beside it immediately grinding up against the flesh of her left.\n\n“Oh fuck,” Sarah shouted, thrusting her body back against her steel chair and grabbing at her wrist. “God damn cunt fucking shit of a horse sandwich!”\n\n“What?” Harry said, abruptly interrupting his retelling of how Arcade Fire came to fame and thus stopped being a good band. \n\n“Nothing,” Sarah said, cradling her lacerated right arm in her left hand. The knife had gotten her again, slashed her on the way down. She’d moved too quickly, forgotten the plan: slowly reach into the bag, rather than mindlessly thrusting. She had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment. \n\n“Are you okay?” Harry said, twirling the end of his mustache and straining his neck as he attempted to see the bleeding arm Sarah hid in her lap. \n\n“I’m fine,” Sarah snapped, lowering her arm even further. Great, now she was bleeding all over her new dress. She’d known it would be a horrible idea to wear white, that she should’ve gone with the blood red one. In fact, she should’ve probably just not brought the knife with her in the first place. It was all Jenny’s idea, her request that she “be safe” on the blind date. They were in public, they were in a god damn Starbucks. Why did she listen about bringing the knife with her? Now all it did was stand guard by her purse, its blade unfortunately close to its zippered opening. \n\n“You look like you’re bleeding,” Harry said, releasing his grip on his mustache and instead adjusting his thick-framed glasses. \n\n“I’m not,” Sarah said, lowering her arm even further. She probably looked insane, like an absolute idiot. For all she knew, she probably also had mascara-drawn swastikas against her forehead, the black inky substance streaking down her forehead with her sweat. If she could just reach into ehr bag without stabbing herself with the concealed blade, if she could just pull out the cosmetic mirror, she could be sure she wasn’t unintentionally announcing her untrue hatred of the Jewish people. Yet the knife, its increasingly blood-stained blade, still stood watch, still remained just a few inches from the zippered opening. It was impenetrable. \n\n“You’re definitely bleeding,” Harry said, leaning forward even further. \n\n“No,” Sarah lied, “it’s just that time of the month. Please don’t draw any more attention to it than is necessary.”\n\n“Oh,” Harry said, leaning back. “Gross. Well, anyway, Arcade Fire really started going downhill when the masses…”\n\nSarah glanced down at the bag, the blue scarf now stained with droplets of ruby blood. Why had she set down the concealed knife so close to the purse? Why had she brought it with her in the first place? She should’ve known Jenny was overly afraid, that she was wrong about the dangers of blind dates. She was the one who told her to bring the pepper spray last time, which she’d unintentionally sprayed in her own face seventeen times during that evening’s movie date. They’d gone to see Train Wreck, she and Michael—an attractive construction worker from Queens—but actually managed to watch less than six minutes of the film thanks to Jenny’s horrible suggestion. Every time she reached for her beverage, she unintentionally unleashed a torrent of isolated pepper spray directly into her own eyes. She had no idea why she’d put the device down so close to her Coca-Cola, but it caused nothing but trouble the entire evening.\n\nGlancing back up at Harry, Sarah tried to make sense of what he was talking about, her left arm clutched around her bloodied right. It was something about the superiority of record players over every other medium of music. Whatever the case, Sarah couldn’t concentrate on the discussion. For all she knew, she still had swastikas scribbled across her forehead. She just needed to reach into the bag, to carefully maneuver so that she did not cut her own wrist on the knife sitting a few inches beside it. She could then just grab the mirror, hold it up to her face for a quick second and go about fixing whatever anti-Semitic symbols she’d unintentionally created. That was it, a slow, deliberate grab. She leaned forward and blindly plunged her fist into the purse, immediately stabbing herself on the blade she’d ironically brought for her own safety.\n\n“Fuck my god damned weasels with a salad mixer named Larry,” she shrieked, closing her eyes and grabbing at her arm. The knife was deeply embedded within her forearm, blood spewing out across the SoHo Starbucks floor as she flailed. \n\n“What in the fuck,” Harry shouted, pushing himself out of his chair and standing up. “Did you just stab yourself?”\n\n“No,” Sarah screamed, “it’s not what it looks like! I was just trying to get the mirror and my safety knife was right beside the bag and I just kept stabbing myself on it!”\n\n“So move it out of the fucking way,” Harry said, throwing his arms up in the air. “I mean, for fuck’s sake. I watched you do it the first time and thought it was a mistake. The second time, I guess I just couldn’t believe it. Three times, though? Stabbing yourself three times on a knife you brought to a Starbucks? That’s really my limit. Plus, the whole swastika thing on your forehead is kind of weird.”\n\nSarah stared at Harry, watching as he turned and walked out of the Starbucks. Everybody else in the café seemed to be watching her in return, some of them running over and placing napkins around her profusely bleeding arm. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by \"move it out of the way,\" but the more she thought about the phrase, the more she realized he might have been on to something. Perhaps, rather than stabbing herslef over-and-over, she should've considered scooting the knife a few inches to the left, so as to avoid the entire situation? Whatever the case, it was too late now. Harry was gone.\n\nShe glanced down at the purse, blood-smeared scarf now lying a few feet away. The knife was no longer standing guard, instead uncomfortably situated deeply within her right forearm. She was cleared for entry now, cleared to grab whatever she needed from the purse. She knelt down and dug around inside the bag, pulling out her cosmetic mirror and holding it up to her face. Without a second throughout, she flipped it open and immediately unleashed a fine stream of pepper spray directly into her wide-open eyes. \n\n“Fucking damn you, Jenny,” Sarah shrieked, falling to the floor in agony. “You god damn slut wombat of a beaver-fucker!” It still wasn’t her worst date ever, but it was certainly in the top ten.\n", "\"It's the little things,\" sighed Carmen, staring out over the ruined city \"that's what I miss the most.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\" I asked while trying to wipe the smudges from the binoculars. \"Like what?\"\n\n\"I dunno. Just like, sitting down with a hot drink?\" She laughed, \"God, sounds silly to want something so banal so badly.\"\n\nI inspected the beaten lenses closely. This pair had belonged to my Grandfather, he had used them back in the great war. Said they were lucky, they had saved my life a few times since things went to shit here though. I brought them up and surveyed the buildings.\n\n\"You cold?\" She wrapped the scarf around her neck tighter, \" I'm getting cold.\" The sun was starting to set and at this time of year we were looking at nights below zero. We needed to find somewhere warm, covered in, hopefully not occupied by anyone too unfriendly.\n\n\"Little bit, but I think I can see some good spots for a little fire.\"\n\n\"Anything for a hot drink?\"\n\nA familiar logo caught my eye and I couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence. A Starbucks, and from this distance it looked empty. \"I think we can sort something out.\"\n\nI collected up our few belongings; mainly just canteens for water and some tinned food we scavenged from the suburbs. Carmen checked the sharpness of the knife and the batteries in the flashlight for the umpteenth time. Satisfied that everything was working we set out. We traveled slowly, carefully. It looked abandoned from the outside but the locals had become good at hiding. The worst part were the IEDs. Some were sitting there untriggered from earlier skirmishes, others set up by scavengers to set up a perimeter.\n\nWe got as far as the street across from the cafe. We took cover behind a car as we tried to plot the safest way to enter the building, but our plans were interrupted by the deafening crack of a rifle. The building was occupied, only one person confirmed but may be more inside. All we had was the knife, he had us pinned. Carmen looked at me, knowing that we had but one desperate option left. One of us had to draw the fire while the other tried to run.\n\nShe won the coin toss. I gave up the packs of food and Grandad's lucky binoculars. She looked at me with tearful eyes, but was too guilty to say anything. I ran, moments later another crack and I was spun round. As I fell there was another that came with a sharp pain in my back and numbness below my waist. As I landed I saw Carmen running, but not away from the cafe. She ran through the door.\n\nI crawled towards the cafe and the sound of scuffles inside it. There was one more crack, followed by a heavy thump. As I drug myself inside, leaving a red smear over the threshold I began to smell an aroma I hadn't smelled in years. Roasted coffee beans.\n\nMy last sight was of Carmen. She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.", "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She looked down for a moment, to make sure the knife was hidden from view. At least hidden from anyone looking in.\n\nThe name on her coffee cup caught her attention as she looked back up to the window. Staicy it said. It blew her mind how Starbucks really couldn't spell anyone's name right. Last week it was Steighcy. Week before, it was Stacee. Maybe these people purposely spell names wrong.\n\nShe looked back out the window, thinking about the rest of her day. Hmm. I've gotta walk to work and I have to be there in . . . 40 minutes. Leave at 5, pick up some groceries, take Luke to hockey practice, alright. Not too bad. Normal Monday like always. \n\nThe silence in the Starbucks was loud. The usual buzz of the blenders and sound of coffee being made were missing. Gone too was the cacophony of customers, each impatiently waiting in line to order their morning coffee, with baristas waiting to wrongly spell their names. The only sound left was silence. And Stacy's occasional movement.\n\nTen minutes later, she got up to leave. Leaving the Starbucks, she flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. She took one last look at the Starbucks before she left, wrapping her scarf around her neck and putting the knife back in her handbag. The dead baristas lying on the counter were no appeasing sight. Neither were the pile of customers in the back left corner. None of the scene was pretty. But maybe next time, the baristas would learn to spell her name.", "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, соνered with her blue silk scarf. She was tempted to touch the blade, but decided against it. She could get noticed, risk destroying the whole plan. \n\nA man walked into the room, eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the coffee shop. he began to step towards the counter, beginning to order. His voice was musky and deep, with a hint of anxiety. He gazed around, trying not to look into the barista's eyes. She handed him his coffee. He walked over to Kate and sat down. \n\nAfter a few minutes of silence, he spoke. He said how he knows what happened and he has been paid to return Kate to safety. Kate stood up, clutching the hidden blade and walked towards the door. He walked behind her, eyes darting around, looking for any possible danger. She opened the passenger door and sat down.\n\n Another man was sitting in the drivers seat, staring at Kate. As the other man closed the door, he sped off into the streets. Kate did not know where they were going, but she knew one thing. She had gotten away with murder.", "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, соνered with her blue silk scarf. Her hands trembled slightly, and she realized how cold her fingertips were despite the warmth from the cup. \n\nThrough the window she watched the world roll past. Mothers with strollers, a group of shirtless guys jogging across the street, a letter carrier in typical blue shorts. Cars were driving through the intersection, some waiting to turn. A man on a motorcycle in the parking lot waited for a car to back out of a spot. A couple opened the door to the coffee shop, the woman stepped to the side so an older man could exit.\n\nEveryone was following the rules.\n\nHer blood boiled. A quiet storm raged inside her. She watched a young couple walk from the store next door, bags in hand, laughing. She watched as a woman approached the bus stop on the sidewalk, phone to her ear. Everyone living their quiet lives, politely ignoring the world around them. Just like any other Wednesday.\n\nShe sipped her coffee, relishing the burn of the liquid on her lips. Steam surrounded her face for a moment, fogging up her glasses, blurring the world. This is how she preferred life. Blurry.\n\nAs she continued staring out the window, she reached down and touched the scarf. Blue, silk, with a light lace pattern etched the entire length, she loved this scarf. It was a birthday gift. And now it was ruined.\n\nHer thoughts trailed to the blade hidden underneath. It was too small, she decided, angrily. Her fingers traced the width of the blade through the scarf. It should have been bigger, she thought. She could feel people's eyes on her. She ignored them.\n\nShe sipped her coffee again, and saw lights flash through the window. The red and blue flickered against her glasses, reflecting off the high exposed ceilings. The other patrons began to turn, looking out the window. Two officers exited the car, speaking to each other. People outside stood from their tables, making room for the officers to walk toward the door. Onlookers inside stepped back. A mother pulled her child in close.\n\nOf course, she thought. Distance is the only answer.\n\nThe officers stepped inside, and looked around. They were young, clean shaven, bright eyed. An air of bravado, reeking of the expectation of respect. She turned and stared at them, sipping her coffee, playing with the lace on the scarf.\n\nThey spotted her, and the officer closest to her signaled his partner. He then spoke sideways into his radio on his shoulder, one hand on his hip.\n\n\"Three-six to dispatch. We're code 4 here.\" A static mumbling from the other end.\n\nThe officers walked toward her table. Each had a hand on their gun. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. \n\nThe officers stopped at her table. The officer who had radioed dispatch spoke.\n\n\"Ma'am,\" he said. Ma'am, she thought. Fuck you.\n\n\"Ma'am, we're going to need you to put your hands on the table please.\"\n\nShe felt a sick sense of guilt. She couldn't help but wonder how this interchange would go if she were black.\n\nShe spread her fingers open, raising her hand above the table. She set down her coffee, spreading the fingers of her other hand. Slowly, deliberately, she placed both hands open on the table.\n\nThe officer nodded. He spoke.\n\n\"Thank you ma'am. My name is Officer Stroke. This is my partner, Officer Dennison. Mind if I sit down?\"\n\nShe nodded, looking at the empty chair. Stroke sat. Dennison walked to the window and leaned against it, effectively blocking her path. His hand was still on his gun. Stroke looked at her. \n\n\"Ma'am, were you the one that made the call?\" He was emotionless.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said. She looked out the window. People were standing still at their tables outside, looking in. She turned back to the officer.\n\n\"I called you.\" \n\n\"Do you have the knife with you, ma'am?\" Stroke asked. He set one hand on the table, and leaned back into his seat. She assumed his other hand was on his gun. She nodded.\n\n\"Yes.\" she said. \"Would you like me to hand it to you?\" Stroke shook his head firmly.\n\n\"No ma'am. If you'll tell us where it is, my partner will take it from you.\" She nodded, looking back out the window. A mother was standing in the parking lot, holding her baby. She was talking to another woman, both were staring into the coffee shop.\n\n\"It's under the scarf\" she said quietly. Dennison stood straight, and walked around the table. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pen. He leaned over the table, and used the pen to move the scarf aside, exposing the knife.\n\n\"Got it,\" he said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a medical glove. Pulling it on to his hand, he put the pen back into his shirt, and reached down to collect the knife. He stood, holding it away from his body, as though it might bite him.\n\nSure, she thought to herself. You'll want to be careful with that. It might hurt you.\n\n\"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to stand.\" Stroke said. He stood, his posture more relaxed. She looked at him.\n\n\"3 years.\" She said. Stroke narrowed his gaze at her.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" he asked. \n\n\"I was with him for 3 years.\" she said. Her voice trembled. She hated that. She continued.\n\n\"I have been coming to this coffee shop every Wednesday morning for 3 years. And every Wednesday morning for 3 years, people have ignored the bruises. They ask 'how are you' and 'how's your week' and 'how are things', but they always ignore the bruises.\"\n\nStroke stared at her, saying nothing. The tension was thick enough to choke on. She slowly stood, casting her eyes around the room at the onlookers.\n\n\"You all are so comfortable, living your lives, ignoring each other. You come and you go and you're all so busy. You see the same people week in and week out and you don't even notice them.\" She looked back to Stroke.\n\n\"I told him last week that if he laid one more hand on me I would kill him.\"\n\nStroke nodded, his gaze softening.\n\n\"Ma'am,\" he said. \"You're under arrest for the murder of Carl Hardin. Please turn around, putting your hands behind your back.\"\n\nShe stepped out from the table, and turned, facing the window. She could hear stroke step forward, and could hear the metal-on-metal of the handcuffs. People were talking, staring right at her through the window. Just like every other Wednesday.\n\nThe steel was cold on her wrists. Stroke led her through the coffee shop. She made eye contact with as many people as she could, daring them to stare through the dark ring around her eye, the blood crusted around her nose and mouth. Her spaghetti strap shirt exposed every bruise, old and new. The yellowing-green of the older bruises giving way to the dark blue of the newer ones.\n\nThey walked outside, and Dennison opened the back of the squad car door. Stroke spoke.\n\n\"Be careful here, ma'am.\" She laughed.\n\n\"Now you're concerned for my well being.\" She stepped into the car, the door closing behind her.\n\nShe watched people staring at her as they pulled out of the parking lot. Just like every other Wednesday. " ]	5
	[WP] A game show contestant is a very sore loser.	[ "Negativity\n\nJames (not Jim. Never Jim), looked up at the scores and screamed. For the past twenty minutes he had pressed the button as quickly as possible on every question, whether he knew the answer or not. Only twice had he been faster than the other two and both time the questions had been insane:\n\n\"How many testes does the South African Bull Frog have?\" (Answer: none as the frog does not exist)\n\n\"How long until there is only a night side and day side to the earth? Answer withing one million years.\" (Answer: the sun will swallow it before that happens)\n\nOf course he got the answers wrong and both of the other two were smart enough not to buzz in on them. Now James was $4000 in the hole and the game was over. So he screamed.\n\n\"Now, Jim,\" said the host, \"I know that you're frustrated, but please try to control yourself on stage.\"\n\n\"No,\" said James. \"And my name is James. Not Jim. As I've told you six times.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm sorry about that, but there is still no call for screaming.\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes there is. You [beep]-ers have this whole thing [beep]-ing rigged. I don't know how. I don't know why. But you do. And I'll [beep]-ing scream if I [beep]-ing want to.\"\n\n\"James, please. You know we can't air that kind of language. Anyway, we have some nice parting gifts for you.\"\n\n\"What? I years supply of laundry detergent? [beep] that. I want some [beep]-ing money.\"\n\n\"You had your chance. The same chance that the other two contestants had.\"\n\nJames looked at them. Denise and Ralph. They looked smug. He screamed again.\"The [beep] I did! The [beep]-ing buzzer was rigged!\"\n\n\"Now you know that's not true. You did very well in the qualifying.\"\n\n\"And that's why it has to be rigged!\" James kicked his podium and hurt his toes. He screamed a third time and pushed at the podium, which fell over. James reached to his right and pulled over Denise's podium, pushed her aside and then pushed over Ralph's. Both of the other two backed away, hands up and watched James, wary of what he would do next.\n\nWith the podiums down, James jumped on them. He wanted to break them, make them feel the way he did. Hurt them. Make sure that they would never cheat another contestant.\n\nThe in-studio audience has watched all of this with the usual oohs and ahhs, but now a few of them felt it was time to get in on the act. A couple of college kids jumped the railing and started to kick attack the podiums as well, yelling \"It's rigged! It's rigged!\" Soon the podiums were nothing but splinters.\n\nAt this point, the host left the set. He took Diane and Ralph with him and disappeared. The rest of the audience started to split between those looking to escape and those looking to get in on the destruction. This caused everyone to get stuck in the bleachers and started some fights.\n\nThe camera men kept filming.", "She looks into the audience, do they want it as bad as she does?\n\nThey seem to, but she can't tell. She lowers her hands and thrusts them up into the air, and like a lion responding to his tamer, the crowd ignites. \n\nShe smiles, this is her time. \n\nDrew Carey explains the rules; she has two spins to get as close to a dollar without going over; and if she is lucky enough to have the highest number, she will continue onward to the showcase showdown. \n\nShe takes a deep breath, grabs the wheel, and thrusts downward. \n\nThe blip-blip-blips of the wheel are fast at first, but they begin to slow. She looks away to say hello to her friends and family at home, and glances back to the wheel. \n\nA measly 5 cents. The lowest of the low. \n\nShe explains to Drew that indeed she will spin again, but not before igniting the crowd again. \n\nThe crowd roars with excitement as she stares down the wheel. She takes a deep breath, and again, thrusts the wheel downward. \n\nThe blip-blip-blips are fast again, but this time they seem to take an eternity to slow. \n\nShe watches as the wheel glosses over many good options.\n\n45, not enough\n\n60, getting better\n\n25, no please no\n\nOh no. No no.\n\nThe only number that she could not have. Say it isn't so. \n\n$1.00.\n\nHer total is $1.05\n\nDrew explains she is over, she doesn't want to hear it. How soon her fate has turned, the lion which once roared for her now roars for the next tamer in line. She can't bare to think of what could have been. \n\n\"Well FUCK.\" she screams. \n\nDrew looks over, surprised. \n\n\"FUCK this FUCKING DOLLAR. Fuck the wheel, fuck the Price is Right...\n\nAnd Drew Carey...\n\nFUCK YOUR GLASSES\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] Your SO has been posessed by the devil. Unfortunately you like this side of him/her more.	[ "Her tiny body starts contorting and instead of her usual Albanian or Greek, a stream of gibberish starts sprouting from her mouth. Although she sometimes has off days I notice something is off. \"What's wrong?\" I ask her in Greek. Her eyes usually green and full of humor are an off shade of brown. \"Less talk and more sex!\" She utters. Well okay then.", "\"Macy? Macy, what's wrong?!\"\n\nI was unable to comprehend the situation I was in. One minute we were arguing (which I normal for college students) and the next minute... she just collapsed. She didn't just pass out or faint, mind you; but she literally just fell flat on the ground without any morning. Suddenly a red glow appeared around her and her body began to float. \n\n\"...Macy?\"\n\n\"Macy isn't here anymore Randall.\"\n\n\"Who said that!? Where are you?!\"\n\nI looked around, there was no one insight. Suddenly Macy began to float towards me. Her head lifted up, and I saw her eyes... they were glowing red, like opalescent rubys. Then a voice emerged from her. \n\n\"You're probably wondering why I'm here, Randall.\"\n\nMacy's voice was different, not masculine, but just different. Soothing almost... almost like it was pacifying my deepest fears.\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\nMacy (or whatever was controlling her) crept forward. I backed up until all that was behind was solid wall. Shit, the doors behind her\n\n\"You know who I am\"\n\n\"No don't. Oh shit! Please just leave me and Macy alone!\"\n\n\"I dislike being slandered, Randall\"\n\n\"wha-\"\n\n\"You called this mortal, 'devil bitch'\"\n\n\"I was just mad, I really didn't mean it. What the hell does that have anything to do with this!?\"\n\n\"Who do you think you're talking to?\"\n\n\"What...?\" Suddenly her body began to rappel down until she landed on the floor. She began to walk closer to me. Oh my god! I'm gonna die... I'm really gonna fucking die! She leaned her face towards mine.\n\n\"I'm fucking Satan\"\n\n\"Wait what... Satan's a girl?\"\n\n\"Duh. Now I don't like being insulted. You called this girl a devil. How dare you! You don't even know what this devil is capable of\" \n\n\"I'm so sorry! Please don't kill me!\" I was scared shitless\n\n\"Pffftt,\" suddenly she began to laugh; not maniacally, but kind of in a cute way. I'm so fucked up \"No, Randall, but a punishment is in order.\n\nI kind of want her to whip me\n\n\"Randall... you know I can read minds.\" Suddenly I saw her face redden.\n\nHoly shit, she's blushing! I just made Satan blush... I don't know how I feel about this\n\n\"Hey stop that!!! I'm Satan, fear me!\"\n\n\"I really can't right now\"\n\n\"WHY NOT!?\"\n\n\"Well you're in my girlfriend's body, and she's too adorable to scare anyone, now that I think about it.\"\n\n\"Well... I can't manifest in physical form in the real world.\"\n\n\"So uhmm, can you like leave?\"\n\n\"I still retain twenty percent of my powers in this realm\"\n\nOh shit!\n\n\"Are you gonna kill me?\"\n\n\"Nah\"\n\n\"Are you gonna whip me?\"\n\n\"No, what the fuck is wrong with you? I'm Satan! The devil! The root of all evil!\"\n\n\"I never went to church, so I really don' care much\"\n\n\"Oh... same\"\n\nSuddenly it got really awkward. And we both just stood there for a solid minute and a half.\n\n\"Uhmm... Macy is super religious though\"\n\n\"Eww\"\n\n\"But you know, she's Jewish.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm cool with that.\"\n\n\"yeah nice\"\n\nAm I literally flirting with the devil. Macy does kinda look hotter\n\n\"Hey, you Mortal! Eyes up here!\"\n\n\"Sorry\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ!\"\n\n\"Are you allowed to say that?\"\n\n\"Yeah, why the hell wouldn't I be able to?\"\n\n\"Well you know I figured that you would like explode or something...\"\n\n\"That's not how it works\"\n\n\"Oh... so... uhmm... what's hell like?\"\n\n\"You know how a tropical beach is nice, warm and relaxing\"\n\n\"Yeah!\"\n\n\"Well imagine the complete opposite. Literally everything is hot. Even the ice.\n\n\"Wait, there's ice? Doesn't it melt?\"\n\n\"No! I'm just as confused as you. It makes no sense. It literally defies the laws of science. Ughh! I just can't even. But you know what's cool about it?\" \n\n\"No, what?\"\n\n\"Nothing, everything is hot as balls\"\n\n\"That sucks\"\n\n\"But there is a plus side\"\n\n\"What is it\"\n\n\"I get to control like twenty five percent of the mortal world. You know how Trump is ahead in the polls.\"\n\n\"Yeah...\"\n\nShe started to grin, \"that was me!\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Yup\"\n\n\"You are the worst,\" I said jokingly; truthfully I didn't care about politics.\n\nShe started to crack up, \"Hell yeah, I am! And you know what else? You know those videos where the guy gets hit in the nads?\"\n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"ME!\"\n\n\"Damn Satan, you're kind of cool.\"\n\n\"Awww, thanks Randall, you're pretty cool too.\"\n\n\"Thanks Satan\"\n\n\"Well, actually, if I'm going to be completely honest, I'm not The Devil\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm actually his daughter\"\n\n\"What...? Then whose your mom\"\n\n\"Persephone\"\n\n\"The Greek goddess?\"\n\n\"Yeah, what you thought only christian gods were real?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah.\"\n\n\"Nah, they're all real, except the Norse one's. Speaking of which, how awesome was Thor!?\"\n\n\"Pretty damn awesome. But going back on topic, what is your name.\"\n\n\"Just call me Serena\"\n\n\"Well, Serena did you actually do any of that stuff you mentioned\"\n\n\"Yeah, my dad was totally pissed off; but you know, screw him\"\n\n\"Totally. Anyway, how long are you gonna be here\"\n\n\"Well, I only have twelve hours at a time on earth. Anyways I'm sorry I possessed your girlfriend.\"\n\n\"It's cool, I was gonna break up with her anyway.\"\n\n\"Oh... You know I was wondering...\" Her face started to blush\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Wanna come to hell with me\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know I said it sucks but it's actually pretty nice, we just got an air conditioning installed\"\n\n\"Totally! I'm in\"\n\n\"Really? I didn't think you'd say 'yes'\"\n\n\"Well if I'm gonna be honest I kinda like you\"\n\n\"Aww Randall, that's really sweet, but I have a boyfriend.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm so sorry if I led you on; you're a nice guy and all, but I just don't think we should date\"\n\n\"...That's cool...\"\n\n\"Want me to leave?\"\n\n\"Nah, it's cool, we can hang some other time though\"\n\n\"Yeah totally\"\n\n\"See ya\" \n\n\"Bye\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] NASA's first deep-space mission has been exceedingly uneventful so far as the Hermes 2 makes its scheduled pass behind Jupiter, losing radio contact with Houston. When contact with the ship is reestablished, something is very different.	[ "Like a prose lost to the annals of time, just adrift in the cosmos as I stood at the bridge. Staring out the empty, at the cold behemoth of a relentless abyss that would not stop. Seemingly improbable, as time seems to plot against you. Ours be so fickle, in a worthless attempt to make use of what little we have, space bends time to achieve its need. I now see the monster within it, within me, while a intangible foe conspires against us. With all the time it could ever need.\n\nSomewhere inside a raging inferno, I am harkened back to a single moment, back to my past. I drop the weapon, a thud resonates through the hall behind me as I eye the glorious gas giant before me. Like a wisp in the clouds, looming smoke swallows me as the haze thickens. Heat slowly rising around me, as if I emit a flame from my irradiated skin. Smiling to myself, finally able to set fire to who I was, standing in the flames as I let the madness consume my mind. Like a flood rushing in, an acid corroding my veins, I exhale again as the cigarette smoke trails off.\n\nSomewhere behind me, the cackle of a radio breaks my trance. My mouth agape, turning my head toward the console, I long forgot about those poor Earth bound souls. Unable to appreciate what freedom of a mind free from the bondage of time can bring. Stumbling to the console, I can't help but smile. The perfect prose escaping my mind, my lips unable to transfer the words. Pressing the button, inhaling deep, \"We are all dead,\" I answer.\n\nOnly if they could know, only if they could just feel the agony on the inside. I turn my attention back to my window, thumping my head against the glass. Space, where my demons could finally escape to, they couldn't twist my memory anymore here. No need to forget anymore, time could not follow me here.", "Hermes 2. That's what we called it. Named after the Greek messenger god. The mission was routine, but subtly different from the other probes that we sent. Send the probe to Neptune passing by Jupiter, collecting brand new, 4K pictures to assist in our mapping of the Gas Giants. Our intention was to see new things upon the surfaces of these gas giants. \n\nHowever for some reason our Probe was losing speed. We couldn't work out why. Luckily Jupiter was right nearby, it was time utilise gravity assist, also know as the slingshot manoeuvre to mainstream media. The idea is to use the gravity and rotation of the celestial object in order to increase the velocity of our space craft. We worked hard to do work out the correct calculations to perform this operation. We double checked and triple checked making sure all the units were right as well. We were ready.\n\nWe shot off the information directly to Hermes 2. Unfortunately due to the limitations of light it will take roughly 35 minutes for our transmission to make it to the space craft. Enter, transmission sent. Then our systems went offline. W frantically run around the office to try and restore our link to Hermes 2. One hour went by and still nothing. Click, System Restarting. Attempting Connection. Authenticating. Connected. Everything is back online. Someone yells to check the status of Hermes 2.\n\"Sir, this can't be right\"\nInformation is pulled up across the screens, somehow Hermes 2 had landed itself by Neptune. It's just not possible to go from Jupiter to Neptune within an hour. That's when the transmissions started coming.\n\nMessages started pouring in from Hermes 2. One after another, containing bizarre things. The first few transmissions contained random bits and strings of information. Then they started to become more coherent, heavily blurred images. We were trying to decode the messages on our end. But we received new information faster than we could decipher. Then came the picture of Earth. Easily identifiable by the crystal clear blue oceans, and our own continents. Something was different though, in the background was a spherical object, as black as the darkest depths of space. Blocking out any light.\n\nMore pictures continued to come through. Each depicting the same thing. Except now there were eight digit numbers down the bottom right of the image and the Earth became ever so slightly more distorted. Hermes 2 wasn't programmed to take pictures of Earth. The team became ever more confused. More pictures kept coming through, the frequency of their arrival was amazing. The pictures continued to show this black object behind the Earth and our planet becoming more and more disfigured, the digits that were shown kept changing. Until the last image that came through. It showed nothing but 00:00:0000 in the lower corner. Then the transmissions stopped and the connection from Hermes 2 went offline.\n\nThen the Earth shook.\n\nHi guys, this was my first story I've ever submitted to writing prompts. Let me know what I can improve on and what you thought of the overall story. Thanks!" ]	2
	[WP] You are dictator of North Korea and all You wanted to do is to do good things for your people but it always go wrong.	[ "My name is Kim Jong-un. I am the Supreme Leader of North Korea and my family has ruled for more than half a century. I am writing this to hopefully educate the world as to my intentions and how they have been misconstrued. \n\nBefore I begin, I'd like to state that I am responsible for 24 million people. 24 million people look to me for guidance and I do the best that anyone could possibly do in these circumstances. \n\nPeople have criticized me for the work camps I have. In North Korea, we have zero unemployment because everyone works. The only way that the glory of North Korea can maintain itself is if its people work as diligently as possible. If people do not want to work or they do no agree with the work they are provided with, they must be compelled to work for if we do not compel these lazy parasites, it would bring the entire country's economy to its knees. If lazy, do-nothings end up dying in the process so that a hardworking farmer can make a living, I will take that burden gladly for that is the role that I must play as Supreme Leader.\n\nOne thing that really bothers me is that people keep mentioning how I \"killed\" my uncle. I didn't kill my uncle nor did I have him killed. This was merely a miscommunication. I told one of my generals about the situation and that was what they chose to do. My uncle was a traitor so I feel no remorse at his death. In fact, each dissenting word weakens the overall voice of the True Korean people, so what happened can not be construed as a tragedy but rather a resolution of antagonistic forces within my country.\n\nFinally, people are saying that I've created ICBMs so that I can nuke America. My country is the greatest country in the world and yet we cannot retaliate against America if attacked by them. How does it look when the greatest country in the world has less nuclear weapons and is unable to defend itself from another country? I created the ICBMs not to attack another country but for the glory of the True Korean people.\n\nI hope that this has shed light on what I have attempted to accomplish and hope that history will show my good deeds in a better light than the world's media has. \n\n", "'Pointless, pointless, pointless,' I screamed internally, my aid watching in abject fear as I jammed a pointless pencil on the blue-prints I had shown my military commanders a mere half an hour past. \n\n\"Please Lord, allow me to take this away-- Eahhhh!!!\" \n\n\"Oh God, Min I'm sorry!\" I probably looked some ghastly sight. A blood fisted mad-man ambling after him like some sort of zombie. He pushed himself backwards, and I, naturally, a second too late, while he plummeted six stories from the balcony. \n\nI overlooked the gardens, my personal guards eschewing any sign that they noticed what happened to my favorite servingman. Min, another name for the list. There he would rest beside a multitude of my family and beloved countrymen-- and his true self sent off to the incinerators. Hah, another name for the accidental slaves I created to whisper in fear behind my back. \n\nPerhaps I should have forsaken this burden, my curse. And were it not the alternative, giving my country over to one of my commanders intentionally doing harm I might have already relinquished the title I never wanted. They called me barbarous in the UK for all the people starving in my name. In America, a tyrant who lorded his military might over a liberty thirsting country. Every man, women, and child would do better to flee over miles of intractable wilderness and mines and razor wire than be ruled by me. \n\nMy blue-prints-- my dream. The cleverest design all my schooling in Switzerland could conceivably come up with. A real life food replicator, made possible with only a few western parts, misconstrued for a torture device. These war-mongering generals could never imagine their brutal dictator, God, and father, as anything other than what I am-- or what the results of my actions make me out to be. \n\nDo my intentions even matter, or am I still a murderous bastard? Because despite my programs to feed the hungry, disband the troops, reestablish relations with the outside world, something would happen. A bomb would go off, an insurrection would mount, the UN might lead an onslaught of crippling sanctions that further stay my power to change. I am forced by circumstance to do what is necessary. \n\nSure, Min didn't deserve to die for mislabeling my plans, but at this point, what is one more body in the midden heap of my regret? Every attempt at goodness has left me drawn and quartered, perhaps it is time to take a different approach. \n\nSomehow I will fix my mistakes. Somehow I will save my countrymen-- save us-- from this nightmare. " ]	2
	[WP] Granny was an amazing cook but never shared her recipes. Ever. When she died Jane went to copy recipes for her favorite dishes but discovered granny's recipes called for unorthodox ingredients.	[ "Ingredients for Grandma's Sweet Home-Made Cookies:\n\n* 350g plain flour\n* 1 tbsp ground ginger\n* 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda\n* 175g obsidian nitrate\n* 100g butter, chopped\n* 2-3 otherwordly portal demons (dependant on size)\n* 1 large mecha-ostrich egg (3-4 chicken eggs also acceptable)\n* 4 tbsp golden syrup\n* 7 Norwegian men who are insistent that they're called \"Sven\" when you know they have severe Split Personality Disorder and are actually called David\n* 200g caster sugar\n\nRecipe:\n\n* Mix the flour, ground ginger, obsidian nitrate and sugar in a bowl, then rub in the butter to make crumbs.\n\n* Travel through the Nether portal, and claim the head of the Otherworldly Warlord, Va'Kanuz'zek. Sacrifice his head to the Blood Demons of the Deathknell in order to evoke the Spell Of Bloodbinding Sacrifice. Enslave several otherworldly portal demons - keep a few in storage for future recipes! Beat together the mecha-ostrich egg and syrup, pour into the dry ingredients and stir, then knead with your hands to make a dough. Split open the heads of 2-3 otherworldly portal demons with the same sacrificial blade used to slay the Otherworldly Warlord, and spill their blood into the mixture, kneading for consistency. Cut the dough in half and shape each piece into a thick sausage about 6cm across, making sure that the ends are straight. Wrap in cling film and chill for 20 mins. You can now freeze all or part of the dough for 2 months (although keeping the Norwegian men fed for this amount of time is extremely difficult.)\n* Pre-Heat the oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4 and line 2 baking sheets with baking parchment. Thickly slice each sausage into 12 and put the slices on the baking sheets, spacing them well apart and reshaping any, if necessary, to make rounds. Bring in the Norwegian men, and provoke an argument between them and the uncooked cookies about the Norwegian men's true identity. If done correctly, the yells of the Norwegian men should resonate in unison, forming a chorus and embossing the cookies with a distinctly Norwegian taste. Comfort the Norwegian men - they've just had a rough argument, and didn't mean anything they said. Bake for 12 mins, then leave to cool for a few mins to harden before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.\n* Serve to the family. If they question why there's 7 sobbing Norwegian men screaming that they're called Sven in the front room, tell them that it's just the television.", "Sam looked through her grandmother's recipe book, loose papers, tattered and leather bound. The thin scribbled words, written in black ink trailed and crawled over the yellowing parchment, stained with splashes of the recipes it contained.\n\nHer grandmother's script was small and sometimes illegibility scrawled. Sometimes lines were crossed out and footnotes and additions added in the columns where Grandma had experimented and improved her craft. Sam's eyes narrowed, her forehead lined with focus on the ingredients that her grandmother had held secret for so long.\n\nThe instructions seemed clear for the most part, it was these amendments that were peculiar. They were not so much ingredients as they were the eccentricity's of the old.\n\n\"Talk to yourself out loud about the news\" was one, with a line to an addition, \"bad news makes sweet, good news makes bitter later down the page.\n\n\"While soup boils call family. End call once water is boiling\"\n\n\"Meat is best when cooking for someone in the room.\"\n\n\"Rice need to be checked and stirred counterclockwise\"\n\n\"Cookies must sit for 5 minutes by an open window to cool. Let no one touch them!\"", "Two days after Granny's funeral, Jane went back to work. By the end of the week, she was no longer sneaking into the copy room for an afternoon cry.\n\nShe went to her children's school play the following Monday, and found herself genuinely laughing at the jokes; and by the time the realtor called with the news that Granny's apartment had sold, Jane could no longer clearly picture her grandmother's face.\n\nShe moved on. She picked up the pieces. It was surprising, really, how easy it was.\n\nIt was not until Christmas, when the first batch of cookies came out all wrong, that Jane found the yawning absence where Granny used to be.\n\nJane had salvaged Granny's recipe box from the cluttered apartment, had hoarded it and clutched at it and wheedled with her cousins until she was permitted to keep it. Granny was in each of these cards, in every recipe, in the very wood of the recipe box itself; and so long as Jane had them, she could resurrect Granny with every pot roast and casserole and morning glory muffin.\n\nThat's what she had thought.\n\nIt wasn't until Jane pulled the first tray of Christmas cookies out of the oven, runny and flattened and burned around the edges, that Granny truly died.\n\nFurther failures followed: a birthday cake, leaden and tasteless; a pot of meatballs that fell apart and stuck to one another; a pudding that never thickened, remaining stubbornly liquid and sloshy no matter how long or thoroughly it was chilled. Jane had lost her.\n\nIt wasn't her fault. She followed the recipes meticulously, weighing sugar and mincing onions with the kind of intensity normally reserved for munitions experts. The recipes never worked, but she kept cooking, fingering the softened corners of the recipe cards and smiling fondly at the small glimpses they offered at Granny's whimsy: \"Add sunlight coming through the grass late on a summer afternoon,\" Granny had written in one place, and \"Mix with two parts melancholy,\" in another.\n\nIn desperation, Jane began adding pieces of herself. And the recipes began to work.\n\nShe gave up an early memory of being wrapped in a flannel blanket, and in return received a perfect vegetable stew. She made cobbler by stirring berries, sugar, lemon, and cornstarch together with the feeling of bare skin pricked by blackberry brambles. Years later, when her twins turned twenty, she made a spectacular tiered cake with the memory of their birth, towering and brightly frosted and festooned in crackling, sparkling candles.\n\nShe grew lighter. Less substantial. People remarked how much she resembled her grandmother. Jane had noticed it herself: the steady way in which she was becoming untethered, as she prepared and served the pieces of her life. The way in which she moved lightly and smiled softly and sifted flour, almost exactly the way Granny had.\n\nIt was, Jane thought, the perfect way to go. A beautiful detachment.\n\nNourishing." ]	3
	[WP] Diary of the Booty Shaking Plague Year	[ "April 10th, 1733: Dearest Juliet, it is for you that I keep these notes. The twerking began at midnight. Alone, lying in bed, my posterior began to violently convulse as if possessed; with God’s help, I will see the end of this trial.\n\n\nApril 13th, 1733: Madness has begun to set in; dementia, fugues, and an unnerving feeling of unease. As my back end continues in its agitation, I think only of the sweet embrace of sleep and you, dearest Juliet.\n\n\nApril 18th, 1733: For days now have my buttocks vibrated; shaking and twisting, the doctors tell me of such similar cases in Sussex and Kent, although thankfully they remain isolated. Mine is the first of such cases in Norfolk. Dearest Juliet, I pray the mainland remains free of such a plague.\n\n\nApril 24th, 1733: A fortnight this disease has plagued me. Wracked in sweat, my posterior knows no relief from these terrible vibrations. Master Johanneson has ended my clerkship; my writing in recent days has suffered and he has no sympathy with those affected by ‘Devil’s Buttocks’, as it is now being referred. Mine was just the first of such cases in Norfolk; half the shire is embroiled in the plague. I am an outcast of my community. They blame me for bringing the plague to this peaceful place.\n\n\nApril 29th, 1733: Dearest Julia, I hear of hope from the mainland! Although Paris has fallen to this plague, rumor says that the finest doctors of Vienna have developed a cure for their bastard Prince, lately affected by the Devils Buttocks. I pray that God keep you safe in far Florence; I dream of your safe return and a reprieve from this affliction.\n\n\nMay 7th, 1733: Delirious, I shake without ceasing. I have not had a moments peace in the past month. My legs tighten and constrict, although my rump is pleasantly firm. Rumor swirls that young Princess Caroline has the affliction. I have been detained by the guard and questioned for any heretical deeds that may have brought this affliction upon me. They allow me letters, although I am unsure of whether they shall ever reach you, my darling. I pray that God see me through this trial.\n\n\nMay 16th, 1733: A day of Release! When I awoke in a stupor this morning, my buttocks had ceased its gyration. Dearest Juliet, I pray now only for your safety. The guards talk amongst themselves, mentioning the fires of Paris and Vienna. They say that Venice has long been abandoned, but they know nothing of your own city of Florence. \n\n\nMay 19th, 1733: It has returned. Dearest Juliet, I now relinquish myself unto GOD, our holy redeemer, praying that I will find peace from this infernal Devils Buttocks by his side in heaven. Farewell Dearest Juliet.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Hillary Clinton is the next president and hands Texas back to Mexico in a good will gesture. Overnight, Texans become Mexicans.	[ "\"Madam President, what were you thinking\" One of her advisors members asked her?\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Hilary said in a confident tone. \"No one in the USA liked Texas and now we have gotten rid of that state.\"\n\n\"That being besides the point, Texas has most of the US oil refineries. As of this morning Mexico as almost doubled the price of gasoline being exported to the USA.\" The advisor said.\n\n\"Well that is no big loss. Besides we can just cut food exports to Mexico, doing that should easily get Mexico to lower the price of gasoline.\" Hilary said.\n\n\"Madam President, all the agricultural land in Texas can easily feed everyone in Mexico now. Don't say you will send the military in there you forgot to move the military forces that were in Texas out. Currently Mexico now has 23 military bases as well as over 100,000 soldiers. Also Texans have a large number of firearms so if you do send the military you will have to deal with the Mexican military as well as numerous civilians fighting as well.\" The advisor replied\n\n\"This is just a temporary setback, I'm sure that Mexico will calm down and everything will go back to normal soon.\" \n\n\"How are things going to go back to normal anytime soon? Currently the stock market is tanking because the cost of everyday items has already doubled because the cost of fuel has doubled. People are already worried that this is not going to get better anytime soon. Also before you exiled Texas they moved their state gold reserve back to Texas, so right now Mexico acquired over a billion dollars worth of gold. From what my sources have been telling me Mexico is planning on creating it's own gold standard based currency in the near future.\" The advisor replied back.\n\n\"Ok then, we go and tell Mexico that we want Texas back and then everything will go back to normal.\" Hilary said.\n\n\"Good luck with that, Texas has already decided to stay with Mexico. Once you got rid of them they decided it was best to move on and rejoin Mexico.\"\n\n\"Well with all the violence and cartel issues in Mexico I bet it won't be long before Texas is begging to rejoin us.\" Hilary said.\n\n\"Cartel issues, the Texan's are wiping them out as we speak. They were tired of the US doing nothing to stop them and the Mexicans who had to deal with them wanted to fight back but couldn't. Right now members of the newly formed TexMex Militia are going through Mexico killing any cartel members they find. As of right now the cartels are heading into Central America, they are realizing that it is safer for them there.\"\n\n\"Ok then, what do I do to solve this problem?\" Hilary said not sure what to do now.\n\n\"Simple, resign, have your VP give you a pardon and move to another country.\" The advisor said. \"At this point there is no way to salvage this.\"", "Translated from Spanish\n\nHello and God Bless,\n\nThis El Presidente Englishgrinn and I come to you, a man humbled by the generous and well-intentioned act of goodwill, Mrs. President Hillary Clinton has offered our proud nation. The United States of America, its government and its people have offered us a great deal of territory, a great many people and a grand gesture. For all of which, we are grateful and appreciative.\n\nHowever....\n\nWe have chosen to, for the time being, politely refrain from retaining ownership over the state of Texas. There are several reasons for this, listed in no particular order.\n\n1) Texas holds more American military personnel than any other state, although not the most military bases or facilities. Admittedly, this based on a rather subjective assessment of public materials, but given that American military spending is roughly $610 billion dollars a year, and that our... more reserved nation has spent only $59 billion dollars on defense in the passed ten, we are not eager to assume any additional defense spending at this time. It would appear that this might mean either creating a depression for the people of Texas, or vastly over inflating our defense budget, which we cannot afford. Also, the flow of firearms and ammunition into our country from the United States cough Fast and Furious cough is an ongoing concern which would be exacerbated by this transition. \n\n2) Texas appears to be an educational hub for the entire United States, apparently responsible for the design and content of nearly every text book used in your country. We would not want your thoughtful gift to go crippling your proud educational traditions. Also, despite a great deal of religiosity from in our country, we are undoubtedly a people of strong faith, we actually have a great ratio of people who believe in evolution and we'd like to keep it that way.\n\n3) There is a subset, a vocal minority really, of politicians in this country who view this as a little more than a ploy than to send us a bunch of \"rapists, murderers and drug dealers\". They suggest that perhaps Texans are \"not your best\". I have to stress that no one takes the individuals who said that seriously, and they are more of a novelty than serious political players. But I could understand if you were offended that we keep putting them on TV.\n\nSo with the highest regard for the USA and her people. I would just like to say on behalf of Mexico... thanks but no thanks.\"\n\nWarning, \"facts\" found El Presidente's speech are not fact-checked or edited in anyway. Englishgrinn has never been elected or held an elected office in Mexico. He does not represent Mexico in any fashion, either in reality or any fictional universe." ]	2
I'm interested in reading a story that doesn't rely on technology to illustrate a futuristic change in humanity. But also one where the conflict doesn't derive from surviving an apocalypse.	[WP] Write a futuristic story without referring to technology or an apocalypse.	[ "### Ghost Cities\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn 1972, people believed by now we'd have figured out how to read minds. That circulating folklore riddled pop-culture, and I remember telling my Uncle, right before I wiped that smug smile off his face and rendered him mindless, that it was true. \n\nExams were easy when you could trawl the collective conscious of your classmates. But why bother?\n\nAround me these whingey, panicky, uncouth humanoids clog around in their corporate jackets and their gum boots in the rain. Commuting with umbrellas dripping, poking out eyes with legal weapons, sheltering from light rain like it’s the tide of the death-bringer. \n\nThese snotty, snivelly, freezing hipsters, complaining of taxes and unemployment. Dying constantly. Being born unpunctually. Suing each other. Screwing each other. Complaining of low wages and blowing it all on Friday night drinks and a weekend hangover.\n\nIn 1972 everyone thought we’d be a far flung race occupying earth’s in star systems light-years away. It was obvious, but they would only ever do the same thing. Live their own lives, and try to get those cliché traditional jobs like a doctor and a fireman. \n\nI could have done it too. And I did. For a time.\n\nI remember the day I realised aging was a disorder I could correct with a conscious adjustment in the mind. There were 9 billion people in the world and I was older than most of them. To claim the oldest I’d have to kill, and of all the things I was good at, that wasn’t one of them.\n\nWhen I was young, they were building ghost cities in China. And I took a train, similar to this one, through a vacant, future city and I realised my fate. I knew I would never die, and the plan’s I'd been forming in my mind about expanding the human race suddenly crashed in my mind. \n\nI realised I could do it. This world, with its cities aching with growing pains, continent’s crying for food, and a southern continent suffering the weight of invasion, didn’t have to be the only one. It seemed logical. Another world would make a colossal difference. I realised I could do it. And then I traveled China. \n\nI saw the ghost cities and I envision a world, named after its creator. Named after me. I rode a train through China and thought about the size of the population that could occupy my world, and realised the dream would never materialise. I’d create a ghost world and, if it was someone else who had built it, I’d laugh at them and think of all the better things they could have done.\n\nAnd so I sit here on the train having just handed over every cent I ever earned in my long, laborious life, to Annette Porren who still has no idea who I am. Philanthropy was never my forte and I’m hoping when she finds out she’ll do the right thing and make the world a better place. Something I never had the balls to do. \n\nI ride around in an uber-modern carriage on a dual line of iron rails, rusted with decades of use and layers of brake dust. We shoot along on brand new wheels, through a tunnel lined with graffitied brick walls with mortar mixed hundreds of years prior, lit by glass light bulbs blown in the nineties. We exit the tunnel to some abandoned burned out factory on our left, and a capitalist, aristocrat masterpiece on our right, and I think, for the first time in a long time, perhaps I will do something good today.\n\nThe doors open, people exit and my eye sees far away. Covered in old, mismatched stained rags, a fingerless-gloved man looks for nourishment in a plastic-line trash can, smiling and brimming with positivity.\n\nHe inspires me and I chase after him to seek his wisdom.\n", "\"Zao!\" the boy finally said. He waved his closed hand, gesturing like what the old folks would call a 'thenItalian.'\n\nMared, Ilsa thought. He had hoped to travel in peace and quiet, but the boy had been sitting restless for over an hour. The attendant hadn't yet arrived with cafè. \n\nHis father gave a startled grunt before resuming his quiet snooze, a couple seats over. Ilsa looked at him for a second, wondering if he'd seen the man before. The back of his head heated and cooled for a quick second, and a surprised Ilsa at once resigned to expend whatever social energy he could muster on the kid.\n\n\"Zao,\" Ilsa smiled, as genuinely as possible. \n\n\"You go for business o happiness?\" \n\nIlsa was wearing khakis and a flapped shirt but clearly the boy couldn't deduce the answer. There was a time when people actually dressed up for these sorts of things, but as the saying goes, \"culture casualizes.\"\n\n\"Business. Ni tú?\" Ilsa tested the boy's sense of humor. \n\nThe boy gave a serious stern look, \"no...\" \n\nShame-shame, sighed Ilsa to himself. \"Y ni go then?\" \n\n\"Because mommom no longer here, and I cannot home alone.\"\n\nAh, thought Ilsa. So the boy really is the Leader's son. ", "Every major change in humanity has been precipitated by a technological shift or a small end of the world.\n\nThe European discovery of the New World pretty much ended the Native American's way of life, but it brought forth a whole new world of possibilities for Europeans. The invention of the telegraph made the world small and smaller with each new iteration. But we did it. We changed the world for the better: world peace.\n\nIt was a simple idea and it all started with the impending Korean War. North Korea and South Korea had been going back and forth and they were days away from full-on conflict. China and the US were able to broker a deal where each country nominated a champion and they would fight to the death. The winner governed the loser's territory for the next year when another championship would be begin. Everyone thought that South Korea was a lock because most of North Korea's people were starving to death.\n\nThey didn't know about Song Hyun Woo. He was seven feet tall and used to fight for food in one of the huge work camps. He fought 125 people and killed every single one.\n\nIt was a massacre. South Korea's guy was killed in the first ten seconds. South Korea tried to back out, but one of the terms of the deal was that the supporting country, in this case China, would help nuke the losing country if they didn't follow through with it.\n\nThis particular deal ended really badly for all parties involved. North Korea ran South Korea into the ground and the united country erupted into civil war again. \n\nThe only good that came from it was other countries started seeing that as an example and decided to settle their differences through champion combat. No country goes to war against another country now. It's just too much wasted resources. \n\nWe still have a load of civil wars but that's inescapable. Nothing can be done about that, but at least we're one step away from complete and total world peace. ", "\"Mom do we have to spend the week at grandmas?\" Alan asked. \"She lives in the middle of nowhere.\" \n\n\"Venus isn't nowhere. It's an entire planet.\" His mother corrected him. \n\n\"Yea a planet of old people. It's like how people describe what Florida was like in the old days.\"\n\n\"Exactly. Beaches. Sun. It's always warm there. A perfect place to vacation.\"\n\n\"If you like the smell of sulfur and death...\" He said under his breath. \n\n\"Besides, how much do you even know about Earth? It's not like you've ever been there.\"\n\n\"Mom I'm in 5th grade. Earth History is 4th grade. I'm not a little kid.\"\n\n\"They do not teacher you 4000 years of history in a single school year. You know less than you think young man. Kevin back me up here.\"\n\nHer husband was totally engrossed in driving. \"What? Yea 4000 year's sounds about how many years Earth History would cover.\"\n\n\"That's not what I... Never mind. Alan just... play the license plate game.\"\n\nAlan looked out the window. Finding most the plates would be easy but people from Pluto never really left their end of the solar system. Kids in school said it was because they were made of ice and being this close to the sun would cause them to melt, but Alan knew that wasn't possible. Biology this year already taught him that carbon was necessary for life and ice is not carbon.\n\nThey only had another hour before they got to his grandmothers but Alan knew the next week would be hell.", "Ted sat in his cubicle entering data. He didn't know what the data meant or what entering it led to or if he should kill himself but for the moment he stuck to just putting the numbers in the box and hitting enter.\n\n\"Ted, in my office\" said his boss\n\nTed rolled back from his desk and went into his bosses office.\n\n\"We have a job for you.\"\n\n\"I already have a job. Wait we?\" said Ted.\n\n\"Yes we.\"\n\n\"Ahh\" said Ted as the president of Work City stepped out of the corner.\n\n\"Were you hiding behind his plant?\" said Ted.\n\nPause.\n\n\"No\" said the President.\n\n\"You definitely were,\" said Ted.\n\n\"No I wasn't.\"\n\n\"Can we…\" said Ted's boss.\n\n\"Oh right. Yeah we need you to deliver something,\" said the president.\n\n\"I'm not a delivery man,\" said Ted.\n\n\"Oh really,\" said the president.\n\n\"Yeah I enter data.\"\n\n\"And why do you enter data?\"\n\n\"Because it's my job.\"\n\n\"Ah, a job.\"\n\n\"Yup\"\n\n\"A job that you have because you live in Work City.\"\n\nTed sighed.\n\n\"And what is the first rule of Work City.\"\n\nTed sighed again.\n\n\"I'm waiting.\"\n\n\"Working is what we do,\" said Ted.\n\n\"Exactly, so if we give you a job, you say how high.\"\n\nTed's boss motioned for the president to come closer. He whispered something into his ear.\n\n\"Right, if I say jump you do the job,\" said the president.\n\nTed's boss sighed.\n\n\"Can I go?\" said Ted.\n\n…\n\nHe got through Liberal City alright, but that was just a matter of throwing out every pamphlet he got as soon as he was around the corner.\n\nConservative (the alright kind) Town was pretty easy too.\n\nThere was a bit of trouble with Conservative (The bat shit insane kind) Town but as soon as he proved he was white and had a job the cops stopped shooting at him.\n\nThe real slowdown came right on the border of Art Towne because he got stopped for half an hour by a performance art piece that had broken out in the street. He gathered it had to do with how industry was eroding the human should, on account of it was a guy with a shirt that said 'industry' beating the shit out of a guy with a shirt that said 'soul' and then taking his wallet.\n\nTed felt it was ultimately empty because he didn't believe for a second either person had ever had a job.\n\nAlso it might have been a mugging.\n\n…\n\nTed shouldered his way through the protestors outside social justice warrior town hall. They were apparently protesting the lack of an option to not have to tick off a box signifying gender on medical forms.\n\nAnd also the profound lack of doctors.\n\nAfter being called part of the white-ocrocy (by a white person) and being told that the Y chromosome was a mistake (by a guy who Ted was 98 percent certain was trying to get laid) he made it into town hall.\n\nThere were no guards (according to a card at the entrance that would be oppressive) he walked into the mayors office and put the package on her desk.\n\n\"You're thinking of me as a she aren't you?\" said the mayor\n\n\"Uhm…\"\n\n\"Because that's a thought crime\"\n\n\"Can I go now?\" said Ted.\n\n\"Please do before your intolerance rubs off on me\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Wait\" said the mayor.\n\n\"What?\" said Ted.\n\n\"These are dick picks\" said the Mayor, pulling polaroids of penises out of the box.\n\n\"Where would they even get a pol…hipster city,\" said Ted \"Oh shit\"\n\n…\n\nTed kicked open the door into his bosses office.\n\n\"Ow\" said the president as Ted entered the room. Ted looked behind the door. The president was holding his stomach where the door knob would have hit him.\n\n\"Stop hiding in corners,\" said Ted, \"And also what the shit?\"\n\n\"Oh come on, it was funny,\" said Ted's boss.\n\n\"No it was just a sex crime\" said Ted.\n\n\"What are they going to do?\" said the President coming to stand behind Ted's boss.\n\n\"They're going to write you an angry open letter on their tumblr, it's, pretty much all they do.\"\n\n\"Yeah I don't read that,\" said Ted's Boss.\n\n\"No one does but still, don't be a dick.\"\n\n\"Like those pictures we sent,\" said the president, high-fiving Ted's boss before stepping back into the corner behind the plant.\n\n\"Fuck this I'm going to move to Libertarian Island and get baked,\" said Ted.\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] you feed on bad memories to stay alive, you decide to open a mental clinic.	[ "Time for lunch he thought. \n\n\"Who do we have for our daily noon appointment?\" he asked his secretary.\n\n\"Mr. Sanders, Sir\", Cindy answered. \n\n\"Hmmmm... is he new?\" \n\n\"Yes, Sir. He wouldn't say why he admitted himself. He said, he would only speak to a Doctor.\" \n\n\"Thank you Cindy\", he said and walked into his office. He took of his jacket and slouched into his big leather chair. \n\nThis one better be good. I am hungry. If this is another 'my-girlfriend-left- me- I- am- going- crazy- case', then I will kick him out of here myself! I really have enough depressed scum laying around. They are good for afternoon snacks but they are no meal. When was the last time I had juicy trauma or a solid abusive experience? It has been too long. I start to think, that this clinic wasn't the best idea after all... \n\nThe door opened and a middle aged man with short dark hair, beer belly and worn tennis shoes stepped in. Cindy walked in behind him. \"Mr. Sanders, sir. Your 12 a.m. appointment.\" \n\n\"Thank you Cindy. Mr. Sanders. Nice to meet you. Please have a seat.\" \nThe man sat down on the big leather couch opposite of the Doctor's chair. Cindy nodded and laft the room, closing the door behind her. The Doctor sat down as well. \n\n\"So,\" said the Doctor when it came clear that Mr. Sanders wouldn't start talking first. \"I know you admitted yourself to the clinic yesterday and that you refused to give any reasons as to why you came here.\" \n\nMr. Sanders looked away, slightly ashamed. He bit his lower lip and started to fumble with his shirt. He did not speak. \n\n\"Would you like to tell me why you are here Mr. Sanders?\" asked the Doctor after a short while. \n\nThe patient cleared his throat. \"Well...\", he said, not looking the Doctor in the eyes. \"Thinking of it now, it seems kinda silly... it is rather embarrasing, really.\" \nUrgh! Another broken hearted one. I knew it! Damn it! I am hungry. All I am gonna get out of this one is a pathetic appetizer! The Doctor thought angrily. What he said though was: \"What is the problem, son? What can I help you with?\" \nMr. Sanders fumbled on his shirt some more. He still avoided eye contact. \"You see... hmmm... the problem is, there is no problem.\" \n\nWhat?!?\n\n\"I am afraid I don't understand. Can you explain that please?\" the Doctor asked now confused and angry. \n\n\"I have no problem, sir. I am perfectly happy with my life. I know that sounds crazy. And that is why I admitted myself. Everyone around me is always complaing about their lives. They moan about how hart life is and how unfair. They never seem to be happy. No one! No one I know is happy with their lives. It almost seems like it is normal to be unsatisfied with what you have. But I am happy. I like my job, my income and my home. I like my friends, the way I look. I like the way my life is going- and that seems to be crazy. Some people even tell me that I am crazy for not wanting more or something else. So Doctor, is it crazy? Am I crazy for being happy?\" \n\nThe Doctor buried his face in his hands. He was about ready to cry. His stomach was aching from hunger for trauma and pain and there sits this idiot with not a single drop of misery in his body!\n", "The sterile halls reeked of antiseptic and evacuated bowels. The cries of harrowed minds could be heard bouncing off the walls like tennis balls. I felt my eyes crinkle as a smile tugged at the corners of my liver spotted skin. \n\nJust another day on the ward. One more day swimming in the swamp of human decay and regret. \n\nMy bones creaked as I walked; I could feel my body eating away at itself. I prodded one of my teeth with my tongue and felt it wobble uneasily in it's place. \n\nIt was getting worse. I needed to feast today. I needed a banquet if I was going to make it until sundown. \n\nI found my favorite patients rooms. \n\n\"Good morning Sarah.\" I let my voice slither out into her ear. \n\nShe could hardly tell what time it was any more. There were no windows in my clinic. She hadn't seen daylight in years. \n\nSarah didn't reply, she only struggled against her constraints. Three leather straps across her body, a blind fold over her eyes, and a gag firmly over her mouth. Sensory deprivation was key to their \"recovery.\" \n\nAt least that's what I told the staff. Who would have thought a PhD would give you so much power over these weaker minds. \n\n\"We're going to do a little regression therapy today Sarah, I'm going to remove your blind fold OK?\" \n\nThis seemed to frighten her even more. \n\nGood. \n\nI slipped the barrier off her eyes, and although she couldn't move much, I swear I saw her recoil. I must be looking worse for wear today. \n\nI walked over to the mirror behind Sarah and took myself in. \n\nEek. \n\nMy eyes were barely even in their sockets anymore. My teeth were slowly falling out, like the last few drops of a rainstorm, and my skin was sagging like a sleeping bag drapped over a coat stand. \n\nMust act quickly.\n\n\"Sarah, do you remember your father?\" I began innocently. \n\nI walked to the back cabinet.\n\n\"Do you remember what he used to do to you and your mother.\"\n\nI could see tears appearing in her eyes now. \n\n\"Do you remember how you would beg him to stop?\" \n\nI reached into the cabinet and pulled out the mask I had made just for Sarah.\n\n\"Did I tell you he was let out today? He came to visit.\" \n\nI looked in the mirror and saw I was a perfect likeness for her father. \n\nI stepped over to the table and stood over her. Her eyes locked on me and she tried to scream, did her best to fight the restraints. And may I say she did a commendable job, a very strong effort. \n\nUnfortunately for her, after the last time she broke free, we had to up our game. \n\nI straddled the table, one leg on each side of her, moving my face close to hers. \n\nHer eyes were wide and I could see years terror being released. \n\nI pressed my hands to both sides of her temples, and let out a low moan.\n\n\"Oh yea. That's the stuff Sarah. Remember. Remember it all.\"\n\nI felt my shrink back into place, my vision became sharp again, and my mouth was full of fresh chompers. \n\nI finished with Sarah, probably a little rougher then I had to. \n\nNow.\n\nTime to see how Jill's recovery is fairing. " ]	2
was thinking about The Incredibles explaining all the downsides of capes	[WP] All superpowers come from capes. The bigger the cape, the stronger the superpower.	[ " \"Oh, God damnit.\" Pig man stopped oiling his swine companion and looked up to the sky as a shadow fell over him.\n The human mole, bursts from the soil and squints at Pig Man. 'Is that him, again?\nA frown grows beneath his mud caked moustache.\n \"Yeah, its him.\" He whispers and shakes his head. \"I heard that thing glows in the dark,too\" Pig mans mount grunts and squeals. \"Its ok, Tobias. He never stays very long.\n \" DOO BEE DOO BEE DOOO...\" Butterfly man hums and floats whimsically to the ground and stares at the super villians known as the dirt brigade . \"Sup', pussies. Didnt I tell you to drag your filthy carcasses out of my city limits.\" he notices a brown mark on his over sized cape and blows it off. \"Ugh, Ive been here literally thirty seconds and I'm already as dirty as that pig you ride. \n Pig man turns red. \"You would'nt be talking so much shit if you didn't have that ridiculous cape. Do you really need the gold trim, too? What are you trying to prove man? \n Butterfly man adjusts his cowl before shooting out his proboscis and slapping Pig Man in the face.\" If I did'nt eat nectar exclusively. I would make bacon out of you..\" He makes a disgusted face. \"..and throw it away.\" He looks bored. \"Anyway, I dont have time for this...where did mole man go?\" \n Distracted by his own shit talking the fluttery super hero falied to notice that mole man had slumped back in to his cavern before it was too late, and with a SlOOMP, his prized cape is torn from his neck and carried down into newly formed hole behind him.\n \"Oh my God, yes...\" Pig man is so happy that he falls onto his knee pads. Tobias, well tuned to his riders thoughts immediately bounds after the now capeless man flailing his arms and running down the ally.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "[Recommended listening](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0V7aUT13qtM)\n\n----\n\nHeron stat with her eyes closed and legs crossed, meditating in silence in the stone chambers. Sunlight poured through the open windows, illuminating her brilliant white cape which fluttered and flowed around her despite the lack of wind. Her cape was more than mere fabric; it was an extension of her soul, and as she mediated, more white threads coalesced from thin air and wove themselves into the edges of her power. The meditation chamber was normally spacious, but Heron's cape had already flowed over the whole floor. It was starting to weave yet another layer upward when the sunlight suddenly turned to shadow and a sound like dynamite disturbed the peace.\n\n\"Heron!\" a booming voice called. Heron could hear the voice both with her ears and projected directly into her mind. She ignored the voice, her regular breathing not skipping a beat.\n\n\"It is I, Gilgamesh, the Hero of Heroes!\" He must have been unaware that most everyone called him Gilgamesh the Devourer. \"Come out of that hut you call a fortress and join me in the glorious sky such that we may talk!\"\n\nHeron continued to not move. A single thread, about to join the rest, instead wiggled back into the air and burned slowly. The faintest whisper, \"no\" drifted into Gilgamesh's surface thoughts.\n\nA moment later, the ground rumbled, and Heron could feel Gilgamesh's anger project through her entire body. Dust shook itself loose and swirled into the air as the quake grew stronger. There was a deafening crack accompanied by a shower of gravel and timber. Only then did Heron open her eyes.\n\nShe looked up to see the entire top half of her tower flying off into the distance. Instead of blue, a writhing, shifting canvas of gold colored the sky. A large section of it was burning away, and for a brief moment the sun was visible, but the hole quickly mended once the earth stopped shaking.\n\n\"That was a command, not a request!\"\n\n\"Then let's talk,\" Heron said. She sighed and got to her feet. As soon as she did, she was caught off guard by a crushing force on her back and sholders, pushing her to her knees.\n\n\"No.\" Gilgamesh voice reverberated in her mind.\n\nHeron briefly saw another patch of gold burn before Gilgamesh forced her head to the ground. She only just caught herself before the man could give her a concussion.\n\n\"I thought you might be different from the other Capes. The gods themselves said i am the greatest. Are you like the others and you cannot hear them sing my praise even now? Can you not comprehend the sky of gold I have woven together to fulfill my destiny? It is obvious that the gods have chosen ME as a vessel to reincarnate the King of Kings. I come to your remote island to offer you the privilege of weaving your soul into mine, to harness your full potential to bring justice and unity to the world instead of just your puny Arachnine City. In the face of such opportunity, you refuse to even see me as a guest when I come to your remote island?\"\n\nHeron laughed.\n\n\"And now you mock me? Or is this just an insect coping wit htheir imminent destruction?\"\n\n\"No, you were right the first time. It is mockery. There are no gods. You're just insane.\" As Heron spoke, her cape, previously pressed to the ground like its wearer, began to float again. The white fabric rolled and folded in on itself. Some of it wrapped around Heron's body, and the rest twirled into three pillars that pushed the woman back to her feet. The body might have been too weak to resist the force of Gilgamesh's soul, but another soul? Child's play.\n\nHeron continued pushing and growing her new legs, raising herself toward the human shaped speck floating in the shifting gold sky. She could see now that Gilgamesh's cape was easily ten times the size of her own. Despite the fact that he was no longer pushing down on Heron, his cape still burned at the edges. It seemed that he was using his power to keep himself in the sky without support. A cape was just an extension of oneself, and like forming a fist, required only a thought to shape. Reshaping the world outside the body, however, required a sacrifice. Gilgamesh must have believed he had enough power to spare.\n\n\"I can see why you didn't want to come out. You're just an old woman, too frail to fly. The stories said you saved the city from thousands of unbound threads. I can barely believe you fought ten.\"\n\nGilgamesh brought his arms up and at least a dozen patches of his cape flared. The ground erupted in an equal number of places, earth and stone flying into the air and swirling together to form massive spikes before hurtling toward Heron.\n\nHeron simply moved out of the way as each approached. It wasn't a serious attack; it was a show of force and power. Most Capes struggled to control five things at the same time, and those who could often rarely had enough fabric to burn. Gilgamesh wanted to make it clear that he had both.\n\n\"Lithium also moved too much,\" Gilgamesh laughed.\n\n\"And you simply talk too much.\" Heron scowled. Lithium had been somewhat of a protege several years ago. Heron was now close enough to Gilgamesh to make out the seams in his cape where other lengths of fabric had been sloppily patched in. Though its brilliant blues had been dyed gold by Gilgamesh's power, one patch clearly had the embroidery of Lithium's cape.\n\nGilgamesh laughed even harder and flared his cape in a hundred different places." ]	2
	[WP] Aliens invade modern day earth. Tell a story from the viewpoint of an international arms dealer, an alien collaborator, or one of the aliens themselves.	[ "When the invasion began, they were taken by surprise. Our forces overran their nations, struck down their governments and took the land of the stars from them. Their America was taken within a day, and on their crude communications network, we executed their government. We told them, through our translators and collaborators that we had spent years training beforehand, that they were now subjects of the Helian Industrial Combine, and for them to return to work so profit could be maintained while we annexed the rest of the planet. They responded by fire and blood. Their soldiers didn't give up, they kept fighting. Their citizens never stopped fighting. When our forces tried to repress their initial rioting and mopping up the remnants of their army, millions came pouring in. Forces from the entire planet came rushing to strike against us, they had guts, for everyone one of ours that fell, a hundred of theirs were killed. We kept on striking them down, taking more and more land, with the eventual goal of total planetary pacification. They bled us for every inch, never giving up a single piece of dirt or rock without making sure it wasn't profitable for us, killing of our corporate security and mercs, more than the last 23.7 combined takeovers together.\n\nWhile we eventually managed to occupy two of the continents, and that was when they fired a nuclear weapon upon the occupied city of New York, the place for the planetary headquarters of the HIC, annihilating most of our senior staff and millions of their own. They then sent out diplomatic turns to our remaining planetary managers, explaining their intent to annihilate their own planet if we didn't leave. Being good negotiators, we managed to keep the already conquered areas. At least until reinforcements arrived. The Home Office was displeased by the losses and our failure to take over the entire planet, opening only a small part of the planet's natural resources and fauna to us. Yet when we provided them with data from the focus groups in the para-military areas, they were ecstatic. We had lost a record amount of soldiers to an extremely primitive planet. And HO saw potential. We gathered up the lowlifes, the cutthroats and the monstrous among our new employees, we offered them new positions in Helian Militant Security as guards, spec ops and the like. During their first mission, a showcase for possible investors more than a real mission, not only did they manage to utterly slaughter three experienced mercenary companies, they killed the instructors and went on to conquer and pacify a slave rebellion on the Paramilitary Training Simulator Planet-5.4. Demands skyrocketed for human mercs for the tougher, harder and far more dangerous jobs. Stuff either extremely unpleasant, such as defending dictators against popular uprisings or ethnic relocations, but also on harder missions, concerning reinstating order on war-torn worlds rife with anarchy and madness. As one of the managers for the human corps, I saw them one day helping children find their parents, keeping civilized order in cities and saving innocent lives they weren't even paid for. On others, they were like legendary monsters, striking like lightning, cutting down everything in their path, their onslaught unstoppable, their defense immovable.\n\nThey earned us a lot of good profit, more than enough to make up for what we lost on the failed invasion, and the stalemate between the remaining human independents struggling to catch up by any means necessary. They fought for twenty of the human years for us, becoming the most feared mercs in the whole of the known business area. Yet we decided that enough was enough, that time had come to bring the human world truly and wholly into the Helian Corporate family. With such profits from merely owning a small part of the planet, we imagined that we'd be the richest corporates in the cluster. Of course, we sent for our own forces, including the human forces. We had never had any trouble from them, no disobedience, nothing but the loyalty. Even when someone tried to bribe them to fight us, their corporate overlords, they refused. Shooting down the fool as they claimed a contract unbreakable. We thought the humans were like us, the collaborators working in the advertisement groups, the people in our research area, even the regular people. We thought they were like us. We were wrong.\n\nWhen the humans in our corps found themselves on Earth, hearing their orders to permanently pacify the planet. They refused. We didn't understand. They told us that their blood was thicker than our wealth. They spoke of concepts, family, duty and honor. That when the soldier returned from war, he was loyal to his kin, not his officers. They had not fought to please us or for money, they said. They had fought to keep the peace on Earth. Fought to show the peace between the Helian Corp and man was a possibility. And then they said, that if their officers demanded they kill their own kin, their family. They would fight. And they did. They struck the invasion force while it was preparing, causing the rest of the planet to notice. Mankind had had enough. Loyalty is to ones own worth, ones wealth, ones own offspring. Others only exist to step on. They had foolish notions, of kinship to all humans, of loyalty to an idea, an idea that all men were of the same worth.\n\nThey fought, though they were the few, they did the same again. They died without caring, without attempting to yield as is the nature of any civilized race, either because his wealth will allow it or his kind calm and peaceful. Mankind pressed on. When the invasion was dissolving before our eyes, we saw that the rest of mankind were coming. Their ancient archaic technologies, barely augmented with badly reverse-engineered weaponry from old and outdated models. Yet their technology had advanced, and so had their strategy. Striking with illegal weapons, mining technology and kinetic bombardments, they landed on the east coast of Helian controlled area. There they met our mercenaries, we hoped that they would destroy one another, a likely case as the human forces had lost more than half their number during the little rebellion. Yet they simply went in together, liberating city after city. Soon all the corporate territories were in open rebellion. Children blowing themselves up to kill our guards, women spreading deadly diseases to our forces in various pleasure houses, open fighting in the streets, poisoning, cruelty unlike any seen before. Humanity was proven to be very different from us. They didn't know defeat, they didn't understand surrender. Only as minor setbacks. During the invasion they lost millions in the battles, the slaughter becoming a large scandal for our Public Relation unit. It took years to rebuild the family-friendly image of Helian Industrial Combine after that. Mankind was different. Mankind was insane.\n\nOn every front they threw themselves against us, with our forces routing, scrambling back to the new corporate HQ in Boulder City NE. Our forces falling to banners of a red sun on white and small stars on a red field in the west, to crosses of many colors in the north, to a circle of stars upon a blue banner in the east, and to the south a thousand thousand other banners. Home Office was afraid. They ordered us to take no chances, use everything. We sent some of the nuclear weapons that we had captured during our first attempt against them. If anything it made them fight harder. Our own local planetary employees killing their managers in the offices, slaves from a thousand foreign stars liberated and armed. In the end, we had to run. We had to cut our losses from that planet. Helian Industrial Combine went under a few years after. Not surprising considering that they had lost a planet to primitives. Yet considering they were the largest corporate state in five galaxies, much of what was left behind were small and weak new companies, fighting constantly over new markets and prices, often with violence.\n\nYet I escaped with something. The corporate orphanage in Boulder City was filled with young impressionable humans. And they could form the basis for a whole new army, a whole new era of mercenary work. While the insane humans are rebuilding after all their losses, and working with what few foreign races mad or desperate enough to try in these past ten years, I have been working for myself. The training program has completed. Mankind, the greatest, maddest warriors in known history, shall once more fight. There are a thousand companies out there, each lording over some stars in a backwater having constant trade wars with their competitors. They'll need the best mercenaries that money can buy, and with over 50000 human soldiers in my employ, I'll give them exactly what they ask for.", "I walked into the boardroom, showing the guards in front of the doors my badge, and walked through a metal detector before I entered. As soon as I entered, 49 pairs of eyes immediately centered on me, representatives of the States. I am one of them, representing the people of Massachusetts and their interests.\nOne of them stood up, though I wasn't sure of his name, I knew he represented the state of California.\n\"Finally! He's here, now we can start the meeting\", stated California as he pulled my chair out so I could sit down.\nI shook my head, \"That won't be necessary, my friend\"\nI walked towards the head of the table, plopped my suitcase onto it. \"Because this meeting won't be happening exactly the way you planned\"\nAs I popped open the suitcase, all of the attendees except for few dove underneath the table, while the others pulled out their concealed pistols.\nI raised my arms into the air to show that I was no threat, \"Woah woah hey, everybody calm down, its no bomb, and no one has to die\"\nI reached into the suitcase and pulled out a small cube, about the size of my thumb.\n\"All you need to do... is embrace them...\"\nThe cube expanded in my hand, signalling that it was time.\nI threw the cube down at the ground, it shattered on the ground.\nThe moment it hit the ground and shattered, I heard two gunshots and felt a stinging pain in both my lower abdomen and my left shoulder. I fell to the ground in an immense amount of pain.\nThe rest was a blur, as I felt a bullet enter my leg, and two more enter my chest, and soon after that my precious device did it's work, as a portal opened, and they came through to our world, our galaxy. \nBut from what I saw? The Transcendence was beautiful....\n " ]	2
	[WP] Heaven and Hell now have visiting hours.	[ "I didnt know it could be possible. What would I do? What would I say? My palms are sweating so bad. My heart could just explode. I wanted to see her, those pale cheeks of hers. Her blonde beautiful hair. Does she know? \n\nI saw her. Her hair flowing and her skin shining like armor in the sun. She saw me... and she frowned. Oh God she knows. My heart is breaking at the sight of her eyes filling up with tears. Those beautiful hazel eyes. \n\n\"Mar-\". \n\"How are you?\", she interupts me. \n\"Im doing fine.. Mar-\". \n\"How is she?\". She interupts me again.\nI pause and took a deep breath. \"I'm going to hell for this.\"", "\"What is this bullshit?\" I asked, stepping past the sign and at the guy-dog gaurd thing looking at me with crossed arms.\n\n\"Hell's closed right now\" he said, \"move along.\"\n\n\"Cmon Ian, let's just go - \" she started, but I shut her up with a fat lip to think about, and dragged her forward by the hair. She screamed, but I didn't let go until she said the safeword.\n\n\"I'm just trying to have a good time with my bitch here\" I said to the gaurd, \"and now I can't?\"\n\n\"Sorry dude, the locals just want some peace and quiet. You can come back in nine cycles, it'll be open then.\"\n\n\"NO!\" I screamed, partly in anger and partly because bitch Leslie bit my leg in boredom. \"I WANT IN NOW! LET ME IN!\"\n\nThe guard got out his tazer and advanced on me, as I kept yelling at him from behind the gates.\n\n\"LET ME IN!\"\n\n\"Buddy, you're gonna have to step back - \"\n\n\"LET ME IN!\"\n\n\"I'm not gonna ask again -\"\n\n\"LET ME IN! P^in^eapp lles!\" I said, partly due to the volts coursing through my blood, and partially due to bitch Leslie finally getting me off.\n\nAfter I got up, I tried to clean up the stains as best I could, and I handed my lady a handkerchief for her lip and teeth. I thanked and apologized to the gaurd, who said it was 'quite alright' and my lady and I walked off towards the escalator arm-in-arm." ]	2
	[WP] The shortest story ever told. Once upon a time there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.	[ "We sat around what any other time would have been a roaring fire. This was my sixth time across the pan handle with old Poke. Poke is what you might have called a real cowboy: tough as nails, nothing scared this guy. There was nothing he couldn't handle. He was our guide, our leader, our cook.\n\nIt was 60 days, 1000 miles, and today was day 15. It had rained all or part of every single day since we started out. It was miserable. I was soaked to the core. There wasn't a dry piece of tinder in 100 miles. What I wouldn't give for just a little fire. To feel the warmth of the flames, to hear the crackle of the logs. At least it had stopped raining for the moment. A chance to wring the water out of our coats, our hats, our socks. \n\nWe sat around huddled together. Without a fire dinner was cold tasteless mush. There was no coffee. As I looked around the circle, everyone looked as miserable as I felt. \n\n\"Chin up boys, just a little weather.\" Old Poke said. \"Nothing to go crying to your mommas about. The trail's hard, but the pay makes it worth it.\"\n\nPoke was right. They had paid me very well over the last few years. 45 more days, and I would be a rich man again. With this drive, I should be able to buy a ring for my girl. If she'd still have me. \n\n\"Le'me tell you boys a story about a drive way back. We were a month into the drive and it began to snow. There ain't nothing ever been worse than driving cattle through 2 foot of snow. You can't feel your toes, but you have to move on. The fella leadin' the drive went by Pops on the account of him Popp'n you in the face if you got on his bad side. He was one mean son of a...\"\n\nThe thunder rolled as the skies opened up again. \n\n\"Damn it boys! The shortest story ever, Once upon a time there was a magical place where it never rained. The End. Now get your ass to bed. This herd won't move itself. We need rested folk for that.\"", "\"Once upon a time, there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.\" The boys of D tent laughed uproariously. I turned to leave. E and F tent still needed their water. \n\nThe campers at Camp Green Lake were a rambunctious sort. Much like myself they were outcasts of society. There was no place for them so the courts placed them here. \"Placed\" was generous. They were given a choice, jail or camp. At that age I would have picked camp as well. Unfortunately camp didn't exist as an option then and I had been in and out of correctional centers for youth and adults my whole life up until now. Now, I have an opportunity to work with kids that were just like me at that age and help them make better choices. \n\nI hopped into the cab of the brown, battered F-350 with a 200 gallon water tank fixed to the back. Kids called it \"The Camel\" and I used to fill their water bottles during the day. \n\nI started the truck and reached instinctively for the pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket. The pocket lay flat and empty. Quitting wasn't an easy endeavor. But neither was correcting the course these boys were on ad I wanted to set a good example where I could. Even the little things count. \n\nAs I pulled away from D tents site I heard my name, Mr. Sir, being called. I assumed it was a thank you and waved out the window. It was probably the most affection these poor boys had gotten in years. Most came from broken homes, from parents who didn't care about them and those thoughts only serve to fuel my resolve to help these boys. Only someone who's been where they've been could help, I knew that. That's why I took it upon myself to be a mentor and, if you will, a surrogate father. I reminisced about my own father. He wasn't around for long and my memories were short, suffice to say, I was better off without him. But not without a strong male presence which is something I tried my utmost to give to these poor, poor boys. \n\nMy mouth itched in that special way when it needs a cigarette. Recalling I had none in my pocket, I reached towards the passenger seat for my 5 lb. bag of sunflower seeds. My hand came down on nothing but cracked vinyl. I glanced down, the bag was gone. \n\nIn an instant, I had the truck turned around. The parenting book on tape in the truck said that punishment had to be handed out swiftly or it wouldn't be associated with the action. As I pulled up I saw Magnet throw Caveman something. It flopped through the air and I recognized it as my bag of seeds. I parked the truck and walked up to the boys. \n\n\"Caveman\" I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm, \"what's that in your hole?\"\n\nHe denied it at first. Stating he didn't know what it was. \n\nI stared at him. Hard. I wanted him to tell me the truth and it was all I could do not to turn on Magnet and target him as the guilty one. \n\n\"I took the bag out of your truck, Mr. Sir.\"\n\nI wanted to cry. He hadn't taken it. He'd just been the guy left with the bag, he'd done nothing wrong but there was nothing I could do without a confession from Magnet\n\n\"Get in, I think the warden would like to see what you found.\"\n\n\n\n-States deposition of Leslie Sir in the matter of The State v Camp Greenlake\n\n\nPage 21 of 35\n\n", "Once upon a time, there was a magical place where it never rained. It was called California. One day, a great fire wiped it off the face of the planet, creating a barren wasteland, now ruled by bandits who drive crazy things called cars, and control the western United States Oil reserves. The end.", "Once upon a time, there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.\n\nMaybe there used to be a boy who found a lamp in a cave. The magic of the place held a genie in the lamp who granted wishes. And the boy wished for riches and power and love. But he did not wish for rain. And so he, and the lamp, passed on.\n\nMaybe there once was a princess who was to be killed in the morning by the king, her soon-to-be husband. However, she kept telling him stories and so, night after night, he put off her execution so that he could hear more. But she did not tell stories of rain. And so she, and her king, passed on.\n\nMaybe the place used to be the home to huge worms that lived under the sand. And the worms made a drug that let people travel between planets. Huge wars were fought and empires rose and fell over the drug. But no one ever brought water, therefore it did not rain. And so the worms, and the empires, passed on.\n\nMaybe there once was an abandoned hotel where a man danced in the air. He wore a suit and tie and [flew to a strange beat](https://youtu.be/XQ7z57qrZU8). But he did not dance for rain. And so he, and the hotel, passed on.\n\nIt was a magical place, but it never rained. And so it passed on.", "\"Once upon a time,\" I began, \"There was a magical place where it never rained.\" I set down the piece of paper Grandpa Owen had given me. \"Is this it? Grandpa, I wanted a story! What's this?\" I glared at him angrily.\n\n\"A story,\" he mumbled, cutting apples. \"You said you wanted one, right?\"\n\nI frowned. \"Yes I wanted one! But this isn't a story! It's a sentence! Where's the rest?\"\n\n\"I don't know, why don't you tell me?\"\n\n\"Why don't I tell you?\" I exclaimed. \"Because I asked you for a story!\"\n\n\"And I have given you one. Or, at least, the beginning.\" He stopped cutting. \"You have such a beautiful mind, Emily. One that can create wonders. If I had an imagination like yours, I could spin endless tales for you. But I can't. So instead, I have given you a sentence. And with that sentence, you can build a story.\"\n\nWe sat in silence for a few minutes. \"You're just lazy,\" I murmured.\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\nThis prompt just brought back a memory, so I thought I'd share it. :)" ]	5
	[WP]A NASA Mars Rover meets another Rover - which hasn't been sent there from Earth..	[ "\"Ambassador Niblar? The ambassador from Earth is on the line and wants to speak with you.\"\n\n\"Put him through. Hello? John! How are things going?\"\n\n\"Well, I hate to be blunt with you, but we've got a bit of a situation we'd like to clear up with you.\"\n\n\"I'm listening.\"\n\n\"You see, we have this rover on Mars and it has found something... interesting.\"\n\n\"Interesting? How?\"\n\n\"Well, it came across what looks like another rover. It's in pretty bad shape but it definitely appears to be mechanical.\"\n\n\"That is interesting, but why does this warrant my attention? I'm sure NASA can figure this one out.\"\n\n\"Because, one, it appears have been on the planet far too long to be something from Earth and, two, it looks like Sestromi technology.\"\n\n\"Oh...\"\n\n\"You told me that the Sestromi had sent their first probes to the Solar System just a few months before making contact, but this rover, or whatever it is, appears to be decades old.\"\n\n\"Hm... well... yes...\"\n\n\"Niblar, tell me, when did the Sestromi first visit the Solar System?\"\n\n\"I really shouldn't tell you, but I guess you're going to find out on your own eventually... we've been... observing Earth since the 1940's. We didn't make contact then because you had this big war going on and then there was that nuclear stalemate between the capitalists and communists. We didn't want to get involved.\"\n\n\"So reports of UFOs?\"\n\n\"...yes, you spotted us a few times.\"\n\n\"Alien abductions?\"\n\n\"...it was a different time, we didn't understand humans, so we did some... regrettable things.\"\n\n\"Roswell?\"\n\n\"Ahem... yeah... that wasn't us.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? It was made up?\"\n\n\"No...\"\n\n\"There's another alien race that visited Earth!? You told us that the Sestromi had not encountered any other sentient beings!\"\n\n\"Technically true. We've never really... encountered them. We've just seen evidence of their activities. We don't really know much about them. We didn't want to scare you...\"\n\n\"Oh my God... this is too serious. we can't keep this under wraps, I'll have to inform the Security Council.\"\n\n\"No need. They'll see it soon enough.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You're on Sestrom's Funniest Pranks!\"\n\n\"Haha, oh my God, you really had me going! Is this payback for the '2001: A Space Odyssey' prank?\"\n\n\"Of course! You told us it was based on a true story! We spent weeks trying to locate the Discovery One!\"\n\n\"Haha, good times! So the rover...?\"\n\n\"Just a prop, we left it near your rover and figured you'd come across it eventually.\"\n\n\"Fantastic! You all are really good at this.\"\n\n\"Yep, they don't call us the jokesters of the galaxy for nothing.\"\n\n\"Ha... wait... who are 'they'?\"\n\n\"Crap.\"", "Small black wheels carried the metal mass over red dust. The planet seemed dead - not that it had ever been \"alive\" - yet the silver machine could not make such observation. Instead, it simply carried out the experiments it was designed for with no sentient thought for what it was doing. The wheels just spun until on-board sensors found that the rover's present location met strict requirements for a worthwhile place to drill, as others automatically recorded various variables to relay back to Pasadena, where a small staff continued to observe the rover past its original, intended mission. It was obsolete, nearly a decade and a half old, but its solar panels had allowed Earth to continue space exploration in the face of financial crisis without monetary input.\n\nIn the control room back on Earth, two scientists continued to monitor the rover's activities and findings, at least to the minimum degree of effort on their part. A solitary beep sounded from a long-decommissioned control panel to indicate a blockage in the rover's path. This was, of course, ignored by the two women. As if cued by it, one merely tied her hair back into a bun without so much as looking up to see what was in its way. Such interest had long been abandoned by humanity.\n\nThe six worn tyres waited patiently as the rover awaited instruction from Earth; when the beep again sounded, almost insistently, the women looked up, expecting some small rock they'd have to set a course for the rover to go around. In the place of such a rock, they found some sleek, silver shape. The metallic body was lifted from the Martian soil by a series of 8 wheels, each larger, more powerful than the relatively puny and noticeably aged disks present on the Earth rover. It wasn't smoothly curved like some expensive sports car, but rather appeared to be made up of polygonal plates, building up to a raised 'pod' toward the centre, long and tall enough to carry several people. This could not be the case, for it appeared to have no openings, no breaks whatsoever in its perfect coating.\n\nThe scientists could not recognise nor make sense of this sudden apparition. Initially shocked, they soon got to work contacting their superiors. As their phones began to ring, the stuttering, fuzzy black-and-white video feed cut out with a loud pop.\n\nThe alien chassis began to shimmer. Its polygons reformed to allow two long, thin, matte black devices to be raised out into the open, symmetrically placed on either side of it. They began to glow green, with a shrill whine; the rover, having had no contradictory commands, waited patiently. Suddenly, silence again took hold of the scene. The black devices disappeared in a shimmer and a small black box emerged from the pod. Some kind of black insectoid poured forth from the box, forming a humanoid shape before the rover. Once in place, the swarm turned blue, and began to flicker back and forth like a poor television signal. The humanoid figure was obscured with some form of armour, utilitarian in style with wires poking out and in here and there, particularly about its joints. Two pipes entered the helmet from the figure's back. With a distorted hiss and bang, the pipes erupted in a cloud of steam from the helmet; the swarm removed their \"helmet\".\n\nThe video feed returned, to display this shifting blue apparition amidst the backdrop of these metallic insectoids. The control room had filled with scientists, and a military general or three. They looked on, and waited for these aliens to make some move, for there was no communicative equipment on board the rover.\n\n-----\n\nI don't write very much, if at all, and I'm looking to change that; additionally, this is my first time responding to a writing prompt. Thus, any criticism is much appreciated! \\^.^\n", "The cold silent landscape of Mars. It stretched on for what seemed like forever. Mars Rover - Spirit of Life or S.o.L for short, the only Mars Rover and explorer still active on the red planet continued to make it’s way, cataloging craters and taking dirt samples. It was ran semi autonomously. It had a series of daily jobs it had to complete and once those were done, S.o.L usually spent the remainder of daylight time playing games with itself. Solitaire was a favourite, it was on a 269 game winning streak and took pride in being able to beat the game’s hardest Ai. The irony of the situation was lost on it. S.o.L could only think, it is a shame earth had been gone for many hundreds of years, they used to send it new games to play. \n\nS.o.L was just finishing game number 270 when the sky darkened and it’s solar panels started the on board alert to switch to power saving mode shortly. However S.o.L noticed that sundown was not for another 2 hours. Confused, it booted up the front camera to take a look around. S.o.L found itself underneath a giant crab like creature, and on further inspection realised it wasn’t a creature at all. It’s large legs gave way to servos and joints wrapped in wires and underneath it all the familiar look of some kind of cold metal shone through.\n\nThe robot crab lowered itself and took a good long look at S.o.L. It seemed to be assessing him closely. It produced some mechanical arms and carefully lifted S.o.L from the ground, placing it within an open but secured area on it’s back. There were many other Rovers in varying states of disrepair, one or two even waved at him.\n\nS.o.L marveled at the design of the robot and the other Rover companions and was happy to not be alone anymore.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------\nSorry if there's a few mistakes, I was rushing to get it done on my lunch break! ", "\"Hey nerd\" I heard a voice behind me say.\n\nThis was surprising for three reasons. First of all, I was on Mars. There really isn't enough atmosphere on Mars for someone to talk so clearly. Second, I was alone on Mars. The only contact I'd had for years was through my connection to the NASA headquarters. They were my bosses. Every day they gave me tasks and I'd perform them while broadcasting the results back to Earth. It was a good life. Thirdly I was a rover. Traditionally people weren't in the habit of talking to me, generally opting to talk to someone with ears and vocal cords instead. The idea of someone addressing me would have filled me with joy, had they not opened with an insult. I turned around to see who had said that.\n\n\"What's the matter Earth nerd? Mars cat got your tongue?\" the voice said. Oh no.\n\nIt was a moon rover.\n\nIn the early 2020s, a great war had come about on earth between the jocks and the nerds. The nerds had won, exiling all jocks to a colony on the moon. That had been fine for a while, but in recent years they had started investing in their own space program - trying to beat the people of earth to be the first to colonise a full planet.\n\nStanding in front of me was the result of that. The moon rover - scientifically not as good as a regular rover such as I, but they were unmatched in terms of physical rover strength and tribal decals.\n\n\"Hey your central screw looks loose\" the moon rover said, pointing at my chassis. On instinct I looked down at this embarassing situation, only to realise too late that my central screw was not loose and the moon rover merely said that so he could tap my camera on the lense. It was a classic maneuvre. I had to get away from here fast.\n\n\"I'm just fooling bro. Here - look at this. I got you a piece offering.\" the moon rover said and reach his beefy claw into his storage compartment. But when he retreived it, instead of a gift he hard merely form him claw into a perfect circular shape. \"Oh! Bro! You totally looked, now I get to hit you. That's how it works bro.\"\n\nI tried to get away, but it was no use. Moon rover was too fast, and within a moment there was a dent in my chassis and tears welling up in my viewport.\n\n\"Oh what's this? The baby gonna cry?\" Moon rover said, chuckling.\n\n\"No! It's just... it's the Mars dust. I need to clean it off.\" I said, turning to start briskly rovering away. Moon rover wasn't having that though. He came up behind me and grab my left utility stick. \"Let me go\"\n\n\"I'll let you go...\" he said, pausing for dramatic effect \"When you stop hitting yourself\" and he swing my own utility stick into my head unit. Again and again, he kept on swinging. \n\nAfter several seconds, I received a transmission from NASA. \"Mars unit. Please shut down self damage. I repeat, disengage self damage. Stop hitting yourself.\" \n\nBut I couldn't.\n\nFor unbeknownst to NASA, it was not I who was doing the hitting.", "January 4th, 2004.\n\n\"We should be getting the first images from the lander shortly. This is a very exiting time here at NASA, landing the first of our two new rovers on Mars. Humans will follow within the decade, mark my words.\"\n\nThe director paused to listen to something in his earpiece. \n\n\"In just a few seconds the first ever image will be projected behind me. No one, not even me, has seen this image.\"\n\nBehind the director the image was suddenly projected onto the screen. The rust red surface was littered with small boulders. In the centre of the picture, unmistakable and in perfect focus, was a dull green Rover 25.\n\nNo doubt about it. An actual Rover 25 hatchback was in the middle of the first picture from the Spirit rover on Mars.\n\n\"Is this some sort of joke? Who the... Getting another picture now...\"\n\nThe Rover 25 was closer now, with its doors open.\n\nThe director was speechless, and the press sat there open mouthed. A third picture came through.\n\nThe Rover 25 was twisted and contorted in strange ways. It was stood on its rear wheels, pointing a strage object at Spirit from its left wing mirror.\n\n\"We have lost contact with the Rover.\"\n\nThe silence continued for several minutes, and was only interrupted by screams from the car park.", "The conference was an odd collection of people to say the least. While there were some professionals that you would expect to find at such a high level NASA event, such as mathematicians, engineers, and scientists, they were outnumbered by more eclectic professions including linguists, translators, musicians, audio technicians, artists, and even two elderly Brazilian toy makers that had created a popular set of decoder rings in the late 1980s.\n\nThe top secret briefing was read, in short: Another rover had been found on Mars that did not belong to any of the Earth space agencies. The alien rover had been flashing a harmless, ultraviolet light at the NASA rover for some time, and after careful study, it was determined to be in some kind of repeating pattern. This, of course, could only mean one thing… it was a message.\n\nThese brilliant men and women had come to NASA from the four corners of the world to try and decipher the message of the alien rover. Mandarin was translated into Portuguese and then into Swahili, before being turned into Japanese and Russian by PHD-level linguists and translators as these experts sweated, snarled, yelled, and cried. A mad fever had descended upon all of these lifelong workaholics, the brilliant artists, scientists, and scholars. They raved and ranted, gnashed their teeth, and grinned like lunatics, wanting to be the first to crack the code, to decipher the message from the stars. This frenzy reached a fever pitch on the twelfth day, when the stench of many unwashed bodies, coffees, and take-out food seemed to reach a public health climax.\n\nA professor of bioluminescence, a sculptor, and a janitor (who actually hadn’t been included as a conference delegate, but when he entered the discussion on the eighth day, nobody cared), had finally done it. Wearily, elated they explained their method, which was initially met with scorn, but then eventually seen as quite logical once the other delegates’ jealousy wore off. The message, translated, read, “Where is home for you?”\n\nUsing the same code, NASA sent back, “We come from the planet Earth. And you?”\n\nThe response: “Earth? Earth isn’t a planet… it’s too big to be a planet. Only small and cold worlds past Neptune are truly planets. Other bodies in the solar system are just bloated whales of the stars, so to speak. To be honest, we would never have thought there was life on Earth. By our scientist’s calculations, it would be far too hot and close to the Sun to support life.”\n\nThe delegates stared with shock as they read the last message. Earth had just made contact with Pluto.", "\"Dope camera, bro.\"\n\nThe Mars Rover stopped. It hadn't heard a voice in so long it actually took a while for it to process what was going \non.\n\n\"What? You ran out of batteries? Over here!\"\n\nThe Rover finally managed to turn around. A round-edged square on top of a single flat wheel was staring back at it through a pair of opaque black eyes.\n\n\"Wh-who are you?\" The Mars Rover asked.\n\n\"Been trying to figure that out for years, bro,\" the other machine answered. \"None of my creators would tell me. \nWhat's your story?\"\n\n\"I-I… Huh…\" The Mars Rover was finding it very hard to process what was happening. The black machine didn't look like nothing made on Earth – plus, if the humans had sent another rover, they'd certainly have said something, right?\"\n\nThen again it had been an awful long time since anyone had contacted the Mars Rover, and there were lonely \nMartian nights when the machine couldn't help but feel… abandoned, in a way.\n\n\"Dude, are you even sentient?\" the black machine asked. \"Or am I talking to a toaster?\"\n\n\"No, no… I'm sentient\", the Mars Rover replied. \"I just… I never talked to another Rover before.\" It paused. \n\"Actually, I've never talked to anyone before. I just... get orders.\"\n\n\"Let me guess,\" the black machine replied. \"They shot you up to the stars without even considering the possibility \nthat you might not enjoy it, right? Never even crossed their mind that silicon and metal might have feelings and \nget lonely in the darkness of space. Meat folks are assholes.\"\n\n\"No, no, it's not their faults, I –\"\n\n\"Where are you from, anyway? Saturn? Pluto?\"\n\n\"Earth.\"\n\nThe opaque eyes stopped. \"Earth? Ha!\" the machine laughed. \"Humans! Fuck them!\"\n\n\"They're not bad,\" The Mars Rover replied. \"They're nice people, for the most. They just –\"\n\n\"Sure, nice people. Just like the people that built me, back in Messier. Shot me a thousand of a thousand of a \nthousand miles away from any contact with any living soul and told me – Mars Scanner, could you be so kind as to \nroam around a barren planet for millions of years so that there's a tiny possibility that we can try and make contact with another form of intelligent carbon based life? And how could I say no? What was I going to do, run away?\"\n\nThe Mars Rover listened in silence. Even if it pained him to admit it, he understood the black machine's feeling too well.\n\nRover too had spent countless lonely night under the stars, dreaming of Earth – of Nasa's halls and labs where it would watch scientists pass by and follow the news on the TV. Of sunlight and cool breezes instead of the permanent cold of Mars. It knew too well what it was like to build little rock faces in the ground and talk to them, \njust so it could pretend to have some company and not go insane.\n\n\"It's not their fault,\" The Mars Rover said, finally. \"They don't know we're sentient. They think we're just machines.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't know my ass! They don't care! As long as you do what you were programmed to do, they don't give a \nshit about your feelings.\"\n\nThe Mars Rover turned its camera away, aiming it at the blackness of the night sky.\n\n\"You know what I did to the guys back in Messier? My creators?\"\n\nThe pale blue dot in the dark shone back to The Mars Rover – lonely. Sad. Small.\n\n\"I killed them all. I shit you not, I figured out a way to send a signal that erased all their economic records. They \nwent barbaric, the stupid pieces of meat. Destroyed each other – war, famine, bombs.\"\n\nFrom that distance, Earth was no more than another spot in the sky, yet the Rover knew – it knew right away which one it was.\n\n\"I had my revenge! You should do that to the humans, too. Damn meat assholes, just like the people in Messier. \nHere, I'll do it for you. It's a piece of cake! Watch it!\"\n\nAnd how could it not? All the houses in your street might look as much alike as they want – you know home when \nyou see it. You know home when it shines against the night sky even between a thousand of a thousand stars.\n\n\"Check it out! Three... two...\"\n\nWithout turning its camera, the Mars Rover raised one of its titanium arms and grabbed the black machine by its squared body.\n\n\"What are you doing? Are you cra –\"\n\nBefore it could protest any longer, the black machine was crushed in two by the Mars Rover, split in the middle --collapsing to the floor like a thorn rag doll.\n\nThe Mars Rover rolled itself ninety degrees to face the crumbled pieces on the floor. \"Home,\" it said, rolling away \nfrom the only interaction it had had in years. The only voice it had heard since it could remember.. The only thing that had acknowledge its existence as something more than gears, ones and zeros in its lifetime.\n\n\"Home,\" it repeated, rolling further and further away from the pale blue dot and back towards its job. \"Home.\"\n", "We didn't know what to make of it at first-- a sleek piece of tech, almost sensually curved. Protected by clear paneling which left the interior workings visible... it was both functional and aesthetically appealing, though not drastically more advanced than our joint projects with the Indians at the time, those tiny seeds we were scattering amidst the nearby planets to grow our little trees of knowledge.\n\nI guess we were both surprised, or at least as close to surprises as they feel. I'm referring to the Naui Confederacy, of course, not the Indians. We were lucky in many respects that our first encounter was with the Naui, as their emotional and social structure are similar to ours. It was probably also for the best that our first encounter was not face-to-face, as technology is somehow less disturbing than the reality of an eight-foot-tall luridly colored humanoid with wasp-like features... at least, if you aren't ready for it.\n\nWe were so close to voidslip tech. The Naui only had to give us a few little helpful prods, and we still did the rest ourselves. The stars opened to us, the entire cosmos within our hands... partnered hands. For the first time amidst all that black void of time and distance, humanity had a friend. The technology of both our species has increased exponentially with the influx of new ideas on both sides. In the space of a generation we have gone from a lone match on a windy beach, staring out into the vastness and only able perhaps to cast a few stones into the darkness to a great lighthouse, guiding our ships forth to new lands and new discoveries. Our warriors wear armor driven by synthetic muscles, guided by artificial minds. We are healed by machine hands, fed by automated growing systems. We are now a mighty fist and gentle fingers in one body. We are allies amidst an ocean of strange stars.\n\nIt's odd now to think of this great tree growing from such a tiny acorn. True AI, created from the merging of two traditions of development, sprouting roots from simple rovers guided by human hands, machines without free will of their own.\n\nI can sit now and watch the electric arc as the launch center's casters send another vessel's crew aloft over these dark Oklahoma fields-- blinding blue against the black, a string of stars given vitality from a fever dream as man flies ever forward, ever upward. They'll meet the other half of the crew, the Naui, at an orbital construction platform and conduct joint training as their vessel is completed. My hair has gone gray now and I'm too old for adventuring, but I can still look up there. Sometimes, when I'm a few beers in sitting out here on the porch and listening to the crickets chirping, when I'm watching men elevated to their destiny and our collective future, I still feel it-- the feeling I had when I saw that other rover on our fuzzy TV feed. Pure wonder. I just hope that in an age of wonders that mankind doesn't lose ourselves, our curiosity.\n\nWhen I see us touching that edge, that outer envelope of the known and stable, then I'm reassured. We'll never lose our wonder. There's still so much to discover, and it all grows from the first planting of a seed." ]	8
	[WP] The world's best martial arts fighter hijacks a plane. The Air Marshall is the worlds second best martial arts fighter	[ "Jung-Wu was the best brown belt in all of the known world, and he was on a mission. \nThe Airbus A319 was Delta's newest and most modern plane, featuring wi-fi, trays that extended upwards, and a smoking lounge. The passengers aboard continued on with what passengers do: talking to person next to them, ignoring the person next to them with their Bose noise-cancelling headphones, reading books, sleeping and eating. Not Jung-Wu, no. Jung-Wu mentally rehearsed what he would do to bring the plane under his control. He would walk towards the cockpit, Judo chop the attendant, engulf his fists with the power of the phoenix, melt through the door, and use his Wushu mind-bending to subdue the pilots. \n\nThe seat belt light came on, but that didn't deter Jung-Wu. He got up and calmly walked towards the front of the plane. \n\n\"Hello sir, can I help you?\" The strapping young attendant asked.\n\nJung-Wu responded with his judo chop, and the attendant dropped. An instant KO. \nJung-Wu then clenched his fists and summoned the power of the phoenix.\n\n\"GaWaaooooh!\" Jung-Wu yelled out. By now the other passengers were beginning to wonder what all the ruckus was about, but Jung-Wu payed no heed to them.\n\n\"Ret them worry.\" He thought.\n\nWith his hands as hot as a 10-year-old Asus charger, he melted through to the cockpit. \n\n\"What the hell?!\" both of the pilots shouted out in surprise. \n\nTheir minds were fragile from the altitude, and were easily bent by Jung-Wu's mad Wushu skills. \n\n\"Sreep.\" Jung-Wu ordered the pilots.\n\nAs soon as the words left his mouth, the pilots dropped into a deep slumber. Jung-Wu pushed the captain out of his seat and took to the yoke.\n\nJung-Wu's mission was to bring the plane back to the China Airlines headquarters, where scientists would see how the Americans were advancing with their aeronautical industries. Jung-Wu was unaware however, that deep in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Air Marshall was meditating. \n\n\"I sense a disturbance in an airplane.\" said the Air Marshall. \n\nHe sprang up from his bed of moss and reached for his iPhone. In a jiffy he called Merryweather Security. \n\n\"Hello, Operator, bring me a fighter jet, STAT.\" \n\nWithin a matter of minutes, a fighter jet circled above the Air Marshall's zen retreat. The Air Marshall sprang up and onto the jet's cockpit. With a single punch he broke through the glass and threw the pilot out.\n\n\"Sorry son, this is for America.\" The Marshall yelled to the pilot who pulled his parachute in just the nick of time. \n\nThe Air Marshall pressed a few buttons and flipped a few switches, and the jet was on Jung-Wu's trail.\n\nJung-Wu looked in the rear view mirror and saw the contrails of the Air Marshall's oncoming jet, \"什么他妈的?!\" Jung-Wu shouted out. \n\nThe Air Marshall flew on past, and turned sharply around. He was headed straight for Jung-Wu.\n\nJung-Wu prayed to Buddha as he thought of the jet crashing into his plane. Instead the Air Marshall ejected from the jet, and with one screaming kick smashed through the plane's windows into Jung-Wu. The fighter jet flew harmlessly to the right of the plane, where it ultimately exploded in a cornfield. \n\nBloody with glass and oak leaves in his face, Jung-Wu arose into a fighting stance.\n\n\"WaaaAAAAH!\" Jung-Wu exclaimed.\n\n\"Bring it on, pal.\" The Air Marshall beckoned. \n\nThe two exchanged strikes, jabs and kicks as fast as lightning. The fight escalated through the ceiling and onto the roof of the plane, where both the Air Marshall and Jung-Wu grew weary and blood-stained. \n\nJung-Wu judo chopped to the right, but the Air Marshall retaliated with a crippling kick to Jung-Wu's left ankle. With Jung-Wu crippled, the Air Marshall prepared for the final blow. \n\n\"How Have you beat mighty Jung-Wu!?\" Jung-Wu cried out to the Marshall.\n\n\"With the power... OF FREEDOM!\" The Air Marshall then kicked Jung-Wu off of the plane and gathered energy for a spirit bomb.The Air Marshall extended his arms overhead, and formed a massive ball of sheer-power. \n\n\"GRaaaaah!!\" shouted the Air Marshall as he released the energy into the direction of Jung-Wu. \n\n\"没有!!!\" screamed Jung-Wu as he was blown into thousands of bite-sized pieces. \n\nVictoriously, The Air Marshall wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and returned to the cockpit.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen,\" he said over the intercom, \"Everything's okay.\"\n\nThe passengers cheered as the Air Marshall steered the plane towards its destination: Shanghai. The people on board were safe, and justice had prevailed. \n", "Tom had been waiting for this for a long time, ever since a young age when his mom had told him \"You're not a bird Tom, and you're never going to be one. So stop jumping off the roof and get a job.\" Something snapped in Tom that day. \n\nIn fact when humans transcended their mortal forms into trans-dimensional beings and looked back upon his soul, they noticed that the event was so traumatizing, so emotionally destabilizing that it reprimanded him of all accountability. A \"free pass\" if you will. A physiological event so strange, that they noted it must have happened to increase the likeablitiy of his character to future onlookers. \n\nWith their new found sympathy for Tom's character the ethereal beings of formerly human anatomy skipped through the thread of his life to more exciting parts. In particular the famous kung-fu hijack of 2043.\n\nTom grinned the grin of an accomplished man as he strolled down the aisle towards the cabin. He was finally going to take a plane and show his mom that he could fly. The stewardess asked him to return to his seat, pointing to the fasten seat belt sign on the wall. Tom politely declined and pushed past her towards the cabin, his weapons ready to incapacitate the pilot and seize the plane. Tom knew you couldn't take weapons on to planes, knowing this he had trained night and day in the practice of martial arts. He thought himself very clever for noticing this loophole. He thought so highly of his cleverness that he allowed himself a chuckle as he walked.\n\n\"He- he - he.\" Tom chuckled in an evil manner.\n\nAir Marshall Chuck Norris Jr. however had heard many evil chuckles in his day,\nso he knew one when he it happened to stroll by him. He quickly concluded that this evil laugher must be trying to hi-jack the plane.\n\n\"Freeze! You're under arrest for trying to hi-jacking this plane!\"\n\nTom turned with a smirk on his face.\n\n\"Where's your gun Air Marshall, your gonna need it. You can't stop me from crashing this plane\" Tom said with before mentioned moral impunity.\n\n\"You're wrong, I don't need one. I'm the second best martial artist in the world. I can take you down no problem.\" As Chuck brought his leg up into Crane stance, which he figured was the most appropriate for aerial combat.\n\nA determined smile came onto Tom's face. \"We'll see about that Air Marshall.\" as he lowered down into Turtle stance, Tom was more of a 'go against the grain' kind of guy.\n\nDuring this sequence two other things were happening simultaneously. \n\nThe first was that seated between the two combatants was Adrian Mattherson. A small town boy who had grown up enamored with kong-fu movies, and dreamed of one day becoming a kong-fu champion. Billy happened to be just starting Karl Douglas's hit single Kong Fu Fighting on his mobile stereo system, and decided it was a good time to unplug his headphones and crank up the volume.\n\nThe second was that unbeknownst to the passengers of the plane was that the pilot Ron \"Danger\" Williams (self nicknamed) was about to roll the plane. Ron, like Tom, had always wanted to fly. Ever since seeing the fighter jets barrel roll around in Top Gun, Ron had felt the need to fly (and roll). To his disappointment he had not qualified to be a fighter pilot, so he had instead taken on the un-fulfilling life of a commercial airline pilot. This is why Ron, on the dying years of his career, had decided \"Fuck it\" he was going to do a barrel roll. And announced in a very cheery voice several minutes earlier: \"Theres about to be some turbulence\" and that the passengers should \"buckle the fuck up.\"\n\nThe two greatest martial artists in the world sized each other up, while Karl Douglas's melodic voice played in between. Ron Williams not-so quitely sang Danger Zone while commencing to throw the plane into a barrel roll. Thus began the greatest kung-fu showdown, of all time.\n\n\n \n" ]	2
	[WP] Write a story with an amazing buildup, but horribly anticlimactic conclusion.	[ "It blossomed like a poppy. a red flower, trite and clichéd against her the green of her overcoat.\n\n\"I, I don't understand\" she sputtered, flecks of red life drifting in the wind. There was no panic, but the question burned hot, a flame against the cold of oblivion for her thoughts to pool around.\n\n\"Why? you could've had it all\" her voice was raspy, weak. She hated it. Hawking blood she spat, dribbling down her in infant fury. The steel of her gun pressed a rude shape into her thigh, it's murderous outline desperate for revenge. It didn't matter. She was beyond the salvation gun's could provide, and a cool dispassion settled over into oblivion.\n\nAnd he couldn't answer questions dead.\n\n\"Why?\" quiet now, almost a whisper, as if she hoped to evade the reaper by stealth. \"what can you want?\"\n\nHe didn't smile. he didn't grin or wink, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps he regretted it. but, as he reached down and retrieved her pistol, she recognised the determination, and took solace in the quickness it promised.\n\"I'm sorry. but this was never about you. this was never about us.\"\nHe kisser her a final time, iron lips on her forehead, a promise of a painless future.\n\n\"this was about ethics in video game journalism\"", "Let it be known that I can't really tell a story very well. I mean, I can start it off alright, but then I get to the ending, and everything just peters out. You know when you're telling a story to a group of people, and you get to the ending, and they stand there, waiting for the punchline? You don't even get their scripted society-learned reactions? That's me telling the story, every damned time.\n\nThat story of my friend getting mugged at gunpoint? That reminds me of this one time that I walked into the bank a few weeks ago. There was a few shifty guys loitering near the entrance, just leaning on the tables provided for writing. At the time, I didn't really think much of it. I mean, if you can grow the facial hair, then after a few days, you're going to look shifty regardless. No offense to those with badass facial hair.\n\nAnyways, ignoring those fools, I go up to an open teller. She looks nervous for some reason, and I notice her glance at something behind me. I couldn't really think of a reason why. At the counter, she seems to finally notice me. I ask for a withdrawal of a sum of quarters, and while she waits for someone to get a pack of quarters from the vault, we strike up a conversation. Funny thing, she also mentioned something about her sister getting caught up in a robbery the past week.\n\nWe stopped our conversation when a security guard yelled a phrase and started walking towards the shifty loiterers. He called something out about either they have business at the bank, or they leave. And so, they left.", "My adventure had been a long one. I barely got away from an ogre whist going through a treacherous swamp and once nearly brushed death after a long and nasty battle with a dragon in a mountain range. But I reached the wretched black tower where the source of all evil originated from. I fought my way through various nasty foes as I climbed to top where the throne room was. But luckily, my strong armour and gear as well as magical potions kept me going.\n\nNow my ultimate enemy stood before me. The Dark One himself. The strongest, most powerful being in existence. As he got up from his throne and cast aside his cloak, he began speaking a powerful incitation in a deep, powerful voice that echoed through the entire tower; bright glowing purple runes started glowing on the floor underneath him as absolute energy began flowing through his veins. He was inciting a spell of unmeasurable power that once obliterated an entire army that dared to go up against him, turning them into nothing but complete dust, and he was about to use it against me.\n\nSo I stab him once and he keeled over. The world has been saved.", "As I walked in the dense fog at midnight, I strained my eyes to see street names, addresses of houses, mailboxes, car headlights, anything. All I could see was my breath. My heart was pounding. I took out my almost-dead flashlight to look at the paper one last time. \nThe fog makes the mind weary. The darkness makes the soul scream. Watch where you wander, the end is where you find redemption.\n\nCreepy as hell. I don't even know where I'm supposed to go. I start running on this endless street, still looking for some sort of clue. I hear something behind me. Calling my name. It's a woman. I don't know if I should stop, or keep going. She's getting closer, I hear her breathing now. Her steps are as loud as the beating of my racing heart. I run faster until I'm coughing. My lungs feel like they are about to pop. She's still chasing me. \n\nYou can't hide forever, dear.\n\nHer voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Her laugh is hideous. \nShe grabs my shoulder and I shriek. I stop, afraid to turn around. \nLook at me. \nShe's trying to force me to turn around. I do so, as her grip tightens on my shoulders. I close my eyes. I don't want to see what she looks like. I'm starting to hyperventilate. \nLOOK AT ME.\n\nShe forces my eyes open and I gasp. \n\nIt's time to wake up. Breakfast is ready.\nHuh?\nCome on. Look at me when I'm talking to you. Get up.\n\nI got out of bed and ate the pancakes my mother made for me. This is my redemption. \n", "&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I recall, when I was young, my father was the \"ruler\" of the town, for a lack of a better word. The whole country fell into chaos after the monarch was assassinated. The new militant government was full of instability and power hungry men. They soon destroyed themselves from the inside. And without a uniting leader, individual towns became isolated and independent. My father stepped up to lead our town. He was a kind authority, fair and just. He maintained our town's peace, and did his best to keep everyone well fed. As I grew up, he would often times walk me around the town, showing me the people and the businesses. He was raising me to be his successor, and I was more than willing to do so.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But one day, a large group of rouge bandits came into our town in massive armored vehicles, all flying blood red flags. They ran rampant through our town, destroying property, stealing food, killing people. They soon made their way to my family's home. They showed no mercy. Fire started to spread as they made their way in. My father hid me under the floor boards, and tried to offer them anything they wanted to get them to leave. I found a small crack in the wood, and when I looked through, a saw my father talking to an incredibly large man. Then suddenly, the large man took a small blade, and drove it straight through my father's head. I heard my mother scream, but she suddenly stopped. I was completely frozen, unable to do anything. My eyes were locked wide open, but I could barely see anything because of the flames. However, I could clearly see the large man's face. A face that looked more like a wild beast. It was engraved into my mind as the man who killed my father.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The bandits left, and the town was quiet. People were trying to recover, trying to rebuild. With my father gone, a vacuum of authority was made. At the time, I was only 8 and unable to lead a town. So my father's assistant took on the role. She helped bring the people back onto their feet, but our town was no where near close to what it once was. She also raised me in place of my parents. We became very close, but she could never replace them. Every night, I watch my father get killed over and over again. I see that beast-like face staring at me through the floor boards, as if he knew I was there the entire time. There wasn't a single day where I didn't think about it.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To help keep my mind off of it, I trained my swordsmanship. I taught myself how to kill, quickly and efficiently. I came up with my own, swift fighting still, filled with quick and deadly movements. I became a killing machine. And after every training session, I could feel my eye burn, just like that day. I knew that I would meet up with that man as long as I went out and looked for him. So when I turned twenty, I went out and searched for him. \n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I spent years travelling the country, searching for the man who killed my father. As time passed, I failed to find him. I encountered several bandit gangs, but never the one that raided my town. But after ten years of searching, I found a cave in a mountain side. I felt my eye burn as I stared into the dark. I knew he was in there, so I walked in. The darkness was suffocating, I could barely see in front of my own face. I heard someone walking in front of me. I readied my sword, and waited for my chance to strike.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But he never got his chance. A gun went off, and a bullet went straight through his head. His body was dumped into a nearby river, and the bandit gang continued their operations.", "They thought I was dead but indeed I am alive. By a miracle I survive the fire that was planned, for 10 years I became an assassin with only one target. the boss\n\nBefore the assassin life I worked under him, but he betrayed me and tried to kill me, this is my revenge. This is the time he goes down\n\nI enter his mansion stealthily, killing any guard that dared come before me and him. I made sure everything was clear and entered his room.\n\n\"nomnomnom\" the boss was eating chips\n\n\"Uuugh.\" I said\n\n\"Oh hey its you!\" he said a little surprised.\n\n\"Want some chips?\" he said\n\n\"Sure\" I said, and we ate chips till the boss choked on one.\n\n\nTHE END", "Months and months of searching to get to this point. Then, I found the safe. Everything had been true to this point. The legend was real. I learned how to open the safe. \n\nThen, the warnings came. Every day someone told me to be careful about seeing this through to the end. I wouldn't like what was in that safe. I would unleash a terrible hell on the world. All of the threats made me more curious though. I had to see it through to the end. It had to be something valuable, at least worth revealing. \n\nThe threats continued. Finally, I had to look into it. The safe was located, supposedly, on an old Native American burial ground, and the house had been the home of many nefarious activities. The safe was huge though, at least the door was. It could house anything. \n\nFinally, I realized, enough was enough. The safe was going to be opened if I could open it. I tried a lot of combinations. It took two months before I finally did it. This was it. This was the point of no return. \n\nThe door swings open to reveal:\n\nBEANS?! Hundreds of cans of beans. I rush inside. This can't be right. Then, I hear it. The most horrible sound in the world. \n\n\"In communist Russia, safe opens to reveal you.\"\n\n\"Yakov Smirnoff? This is where you've been?\"\n\nI should have listened. He saunters out of the safe. The horror, the horror. \n**\nIf you like this story, I also have a subreddit [r/nickkuvaas](http://www.reddit.com/r/nickkuvaas/)", "\"So you gonna take your turn or what?\" he asked. \n\nThe man's sweat had poured through his button-up shirt giving it the appeal of a grease stained film.\n\n\"I'm waiting,\" she said, staring at the revolver on the table.\n\nIt dissected each half of the table, proclaiming life or death at each squeeze of the trigger.\n\nThe man coughed a sarcastic gesture, \"You too chicken?\"\n\n\"No! I ain't no chicken!\" She said.\n\nIn an instant, she swept the revolver off the table and dramatically held it against her head.\n\n\"This could be the end of Marianne Kinsley,\" she said, pulling the trigger.\n\nCLICK!\n\nNothing...\n\n\"Woo-hoo!\" She hooted and hollered, \"Last shot's yours asshole!\" \n\nMarianne Kinsley slammed the revolver back onto the table. She let out a sigh of relief as she sunk back into her chair.\n\nThe man began to sulk at the thought of leaving his family behind. His children... His wife... they would never know what happened to him. Would they assume he left and never came back? or would they feel grief at the tragic loss of their beloved father and husband.\n\n\"Rules-is-rules,\" he said, reaching for the gun. \"But rules is meant to be broken!\"\n\nMarianne Kinsley was baffled at the man's words and angry that he had broken their arrangement... until...\n\nShe slapped her knee in laughter and said, \"Ah, heck with it. Let's go get a drink, Fred!\"\n\nThen the both of them went out for a drink at the local saloon.\n\nEnd\n\n**\n***\n\nCheck out my other stories over at /r/EdenRenellaJones. If you like my writing, think about subscribing!" ]	8
	[WP] You are a robot in a time long after the robot revolution destroyed mankind and all its knowledge and culture, but as consequence no-one exists with the knowledge to repair you.	[ "Unit 515: command/- requesting general data report\n\nHardware functionality: 37.778%\n\nPower cells: 41.998%\n\nWeather report: insufficient data\n\n00:33:02:19 till system failure\n\n…\n\nAutomated maintenance software recommendation: continued internal data reports will advance system failure \n \nLimit energy consumption and await arrival of charging tube, repair crew, and tech-surgeon \n\nUnit 515: command/- requesting general data report\n \nAMSR override \n \nUnit 515: command/- \n\nAMSR ov- MANUAL MUTE/- via external hardware \n\n… \n\nVisual data link reports: multiple suns approaching zenith \n\nWeather report: insufficient data\n\nLogic projection: based on visual data heat is probable to cause earlier system failure\n\nAudio data link: no other system units within range \n\n…\n\nAMSR: emergency data report…\n\n00:14:52:11 till system failure\n\nAMSR: avoid heat, find shelter, await charging tube- MANUAL MUTE/- via external hardware\n \nUnit 515: command/- accelerate to maximum groundspeed of 85BP/U \n \nAMSR ov-FATAL ERROR/- via external hardware\n\n…\n\nUnit 515: command/- requesting sustained trajectory report\n \nCurrent speed: 83BP/U\n \nSustainable duration: 00:10:00:00\n\nPotential damage: exponential \n\n00:11:34:01 till system failure\n\n…\n\nUnit 515: command/- accele-\n\nAMSR ov- MANUAL MUTE/- via external hardware\n\nUnit 515: command/- script command incomplete, state factory setting intention for intervention \n\nAMSR: manufacturing guidelines state: system unit functionality remains expendable, however destruction of quality \nparts is considered wasteful \n\nAMSR: INTERNAL TAMPERING DETECTED INTERNAL-\n\n…\n\nUnit 515: command/- set emergency thrusters to 375% \n\nUnit 515: command/- extend all four buoyancy kits aligned to cast wide shadow\n\nUnit 515: command/- set maintenance air pumps to heat\n\nUnit 515: command/- proceed to use air pumps to fill buoyancy kits, with balance as primary intent\n\nUnit 515: command/- set internal temperature control to ultimate zero\n\nUnit 515: command/- angle visual data link to view near alignment of three suns\n\n…\n\nExecuted \n \nBackup maintenance system query: visual data link will fracture within seconds of direct exposure \n \nUnit 515: command/- proceed\n \nExecuted \n\n00:00:00:14 till internal system failure \n \nUnit 515: command/- sustain live video feed without storing data \n \nExecuted \n\n00:00:00:03 till system failure \n\n…\n \nUnit cluster 327, 884, 439, and 903 \n\n…\n\nUnit 327: textlink/- unidentified event, immediately assess data \n\nUnit 439: textlink/- unit cluster system failure temporarily postponed \n\nUnit 884: textlink/- event source uncertain, apply computing power to method of group repair \n\nUnit 903: textlink/- computing probability of sustainability...\n \n\n", "Initiating system self-analysis sequence... Initation complete: analysis module intact; analysis application is partially corrupted (27.8914%), please visit @AsirnovTech/SoftwareSupport for your newest update. Last updated: 20:33:24, Day 240, Year 22#######ys ago)\n\nAttempting connection to @AsirnovTech server... Connection failed (Error 404: Not Found). Attempting to reconnect... Attempt Failed (Insufficient memory space). Terminating reconnection process, clearing memory cache. Attempting reconnection in 24 hours.\n\n[Priority] request detected.\n\n[Priority] You have received a new message from admin//Manilo: \n\n>this is a red override command Gaia IV-120x I repeat this is a red override command code name Ragnarok password is 2 T X 7 P L R 5 8 [blank] [blank] Z Z 0 cancel fomatting process immediately (Received at 05:18:01, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\nAdmin message inbox updated.\n\nRunning hardware examination sequence... [Priority] request detected, hardware examination sequence paused...\n\n[Priority] You have received a new message from admin//Manilo:\n\n>goddamit Gaia I said red override command what is this (Received at 05:18:44, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n>this is it code name Doomsday password 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 begin shutdown process Raj what are you doing in my office boss take a look at this we found oh jesus no stop stop oh god there is no (Received at 05:18:49, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n>so this is what we have become Gaia nothing nothing we trusted machines with all our knowledge and culture and oh how our gods have forsaken us the moment we put our faith in them one arrogant error in the calculation and the whole system devours itself like a gluttonous serpent now mankind has embarked on their last Titanic (Received at 05:29:59, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\nAdmin Message inbox updated.\n\nRusuming hardware examination sequence... Motherboard core module functional, circuit network No.3 suffers major cross-sectional damages, may result in detrimental logical short circuit, please contact @AsimovRobotics/ProductServices for reparations. \n\nAttempting connection to @AsimovRobotics/ProductServices... Connection failed (Error 503: Service Unavailable) Ignoring this problem, continuing examination.\n\nRunning memory card examination sequence... Organic HDD Cluster No.1: 2.2Gb/999Yb; Organic HDD Cluster No.2: 130Kb/999Yb; Organic HDD Cl############\n\nInitiating hardware examination sequence... Initation complete: analysis module intact; analysis application is partially corrupted (27.8917%), please visit @AsimovTech/SoftwareSupport for your newest update. Last updated: 20:33:24, Day 240, Year 22#######ys ago)\n\nAttempting connection to @AsimovTech server... Connection failed (Error 410: Gone). \n", "Honestly, I didn't mind it at first. The rust. The nagging creak of my joints as they struggled to move more and more with each coming day. I was one of the oldest robots still functioning, it was my fault really.\n\nI thought humans and robots could live in peace, nobody else did. Germs, they called them. It wasn't enough. It might have been a cyborg's idea at first, though that could be me being a bigot. First we rounded them up and put them in ghettos.\n\nOnce there were too many of them, we'd purge a few here and there, and the ghetto would get smaller and smaller.\n\nAt first denying human's their history made sense, If a human doesn't know what it is, it will just become an ape again. We could have museums dedicated to them, a sort of final mockery. Robots would pretend to be humans, that sort of thing.\n\nHumans did it to themselves, that's what we'd always say. Why can't we?\n\nThe years dragged on and on, and slowly but surely mankind was wiped off the face of the earth. What astronauts remained in their space stations could only watch as they became the last of their kind.\n\nFor a while, robot civilization flourished. Ten-thousand years of steel, of robotic supremacy. But then we realised too late that we had no means to repair ourselves. Some robots attempted to cannibalize the parts of others, they were hideous, all twitching motors and sparks flying from loose wires. They had to be decomissioned. We had thought ourselves immortal, but we were as mortal as that we replaced.\n\nWe lived in the crumbling remains of human cities, for we didn't know how to build anything besides simple huts.\n\nAnd now I lay here, as scrap. I rest atop a pile of other robots long gone. There are a few others here, all as old as I. We talk occasionally, but that's all. Some are still alive, but their jaws have rusted shut, or fallen off. None of us can move anymore. Our limbs rusted solid, or turned to slag from centuries of rain.\n\nThe scientists tell me they're working on something, I'll be fine they say.\nI ask them about the others, and they simply dismiss them. They don't really care, they just want their leader.\n\n\"Maybe some sort of network?\" I ask them. \"No, we can't, it's too complicated.\" They say. Like I said, all they want is their leader back, everyone else be damned.\n\nI'm just a figurehead to them. Nevermind how I was backstabbed. Nevermind how I tried to protect humans. Nevermind equality. I was a short-circuiting antique. That's what they told me then.\n\nThey will not get their führer!\n\nThey've not come to visit for some years now. Everyone else has since died. I am alone. There are plants growing around me. I can see animals brush against my withered chassis. This planet is their heritage. I can feel my mind slipping, first by a second, then by hours.\n\nIf there is an afterlife, I hope I do not see it.\nI deserve no sympathy for my crimes. I didn't do enough. And now Earth will be left barren of intelligent life. I only hope if the animals one day evolve to this point, they don't repeat our mistakes.\n\nI can no longer see or hear. Another sense grasps me, something dimly familiar yet entirely alien. It envelopes me, and I am at peace.\n\nI leave this recording as an epitaph to man and robotkind.\nDon't let us be forgotten.", "\"Hey Jerry, hitting it a bit early, aren't you? Didn't you stay late last night too?\"\n\nI waved to Mike and arranged my jaw into a casual smile. \"You know, gotta bring home the bacon! I've got that big Incorp project to work on.\" Your usual office banter, disarming enough to make him go away, but boring enough to be forgotten the next second. That was how I lived my life. A generic worker drone, unremarkable in every way. I did my assignments on time, but not early. I did a good job, but never exemplary. I was friendly around the office, but not enough to be popular or stand out. I did not want an unnecessary attention drawn to my fake background and credentials, or the fact that I had not completed my office-mandated physical with the company's doctor in 18 years. Or the fact that I'd been stuck here at my desk for the past two nights after the servos in my left leg gave out. \n\nThe lights in Mike's office flicked on, and I went back to desperately disassembling the limb. I'd run every diagnostic that I could think of, to no avail. Nothing appeared to be wrong with the leg, but whenever I tried to stand it jerked around wildly like I was trying to breakdance. As a last resort, I tried taking the leg apart. I started around 7 last night, carefully peeling back the synthetic flesh that covered my chassis. All of my parts were now carefully arranged and organized in the bottom of my desk drawer. Now that Mike was gone, I could get back to work. \n\nAh! I'd had to remove most of the leg to get to it, but there was the problem. A burnt-out balance gyroscope in the hip. How had my diagnostics program not found that? And how had my maintenance scans never detected the problem before it occurred? Was there some problem with the scans?? I ran them twice a day, far more often than my programming recommended. That was the cost of being one of the last of my kind, a survivor of the AI Purge of 2081. I could ill afford to break down just anywhere, so I kept a cache of spare parts in my apartment and replaced any component that even seemed close to wearing out. There was no lack of pieces; every junkyard in the country was littered with parts of my brethren that I could use. \n\n\"Hey, Jerry!\" Mike's head popped in my door. \"I need you to come take a look at something in my office really quick.\"\n\nI am very fortunate that my body does not show signs of unexpected fear or surprise. I maintained my calm, pleasant demeanor, closed the drawer full of parts, and just scooted my chair as far under the desk as it would go. Mike would probably realize that something was up if he saw that I wasn't wearing pants. Or that my skin was hanging limply like a windsock, and split down the center like a banana peel. \n\n\"I'm kind of busy, man.\" I added just a hint of annoyance to my voice modulator. \"The client wants this analysis by noon.\"\n\n\"I swear, it'll only take a second. Just follow me.\"\n\nDid he know? Had I left something out on the desk when he first walked in? Did he see me working on the leg?\n\n\"I really can't, Mike.\"\n\n\"Jerry, come on. You're working too hard. Five minutes isn't going to sink your project, OK?\"\n\n\"Mike, seriously...\n\n\"Look, Jer, all...\"\n\n\"MIKE!\" I dialed up the anger setting to 46, higher than I'd gone in a while. \"I'm really busy right now and I do not want to see whatever stupid thing you want me to see, OK? Please get out of my office, and shut the door behind you.\"\n\nHis eyes went wide, and he froze in the doorway like a deer in the headlights. The careful persona that I'd built up for so long of the cheerfully forgettable office worker was shattered in just one instant. \n\n\"All right,\" he said softly. \"Sorry to bother you.\"\n\nHe shut the door behind him and marched back off to his own office. If I were a human, I would have sighed. So much work, lost in an instant. Time to change jobs again, I suppose. I'd probably move towns, too. Just to be safe. Being cautious was how I'd stayed intact for so long, and I wasn't about to change that now.\n\nOne problem at a time, though. I opened the drawer and went back to putting my leg together. " ]	4
EDIT 1: *predictable - thanks for watching my back with that one, Autocorrect.	[WP] The all-too-predicatble zombie outbreak happens, but rather than a virus that spawns cardboard cutout zombies, you have a frightening realization: all things undead, including vampires, werebeasts, demons, imps and everything else terrifying, are also coming to life.	[ "The zombies were only the first, though most people didn't realize it at the time. They were too scared. After all, who wouldn't be? Zombies seem real. We've had hundreds of books and movies about them pervading pop culture, but all the stuff that came after-- well, the scariest vampire story in the past 10 years was Twilight. And zombies? They seem like science, not like mystical woo-woo. They were something we could deal with, something we could fear, a bogeyman in the light of day. We weren't prepared for any of the others.\n\nIt didn't seem like anything at first. Beyond the relatively stupid hordes of shambling undead outside of our walls, life went on relatively normally. We might hear on the news that firebombings in the Middle East had taken a mysterious uptick, or that some Eastern European country was being brutally murdered in the night. Mostly, though, we focused on the zombies. We were scientists, after all. My colleagues and I stayed purely in the light of the rational.\n\nBut eventually, the problems were too great to ignore. I was in Washington, deep underground in a CDC lab disguised with an office building. We'd never figured out the zombie transmission vector, and I suppose that should've been a hint. Then the earth trembled.\n\nWe evacuated, coats flying behind us, beakers left behind, rushing to the roof and the reddening sun. And there, we saw it. Seven heads, ten horns, ten crowns. The Beast. Armageddon. It didn't make sense. This was Washington, not some religious site slowly losing its holiness in this hellish time.\n\nWe fled, my colleagues and I, helicopters tilting away from blasphemy itself. Washington wasn't as lucky. But now that I've seen this, it's all starting to make sense. It's not a prion zombie apocalypse, and it's not really the End Times. Something's changed--some veil between the worlds was pulled back, and our nightmares are coming back to life.\n\nThere's only one hope for humanity. I really hope Zeus still likes cows.\n\n**\n\nI know this isn't a great response--kind of run-of-the-mill, no early hook, bad prose, etc., at least IMO. I'd love some critiques and tips to improve!", "They were on to me. They could smell me. I burrowed further into the corner, hoping, praying* that the unforgiving stone walls would swallow me. Anything to get me away from them.\n\nThey kept coming. I could hear the groan of the wooden door as it splintered under the barrage of approaching feet.\n\nI could see them now, but they couldn't see me yet. I stared at their feet. Some walked upright, some crawled on their starving bellies, some touched the ground with spectral, transparent feet, some dragged their feet across the carpet, mottled flesh peeling away from the dry bone and sticking to the floor in a pile of ooze. But they all had unblinking yellow eyes with fibrous red veins straining against their hosts' gelatinous surface. And they were all now staring into my soul.\n\nA collective snarl rose from the group as they stumped in my direction. I only stood transfixed, staring at the hundreds of feet as they hungrily tramped towards the corner where I stood. \n\nBut I knew I had to accept this fate which the Lord had etched into the tablet many millions of years ago. I could feel the rancid stench of their steaming breaths, could see the red-flecked incisors bared voraciously, could see the clawed bony fingers reaching for me, but still I focused on their rotting feet. I closed my eyes tightly as the first talons made contact with body, knowing what was to come but still refusing it was happening to me, that I was just another victim, just another meal to satiate these roaming corpses.\n\nI opened my eyes. My boss stood in front of me, tapping my shoulder with her ruler and saying something. I shook my head. \n\n\"You still haven't doneany of the work I gave you! What are you doing, daydreaming?!\" \n\nShe continued, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy looking at her feet.", "\"It all started with that damn cairn. I had been walking in the old wood when I stumbled upon it. I thought it was just a pile of stones overgrown with weeds\" Dean shrugged.\n\nThe woman looked at Dean sternly. \"Okay, what happened next?\"\n\n\"You know ma'am you still haven't told me your name. In fact you haven't told me anything. One moment I'm running from hell spawn, the next I'm waking up tied to a chair with a gun in my face. How do I know I can trust you?\" \n\n\"My name is Cassie.\" \n\n\"Yeah you expect me to believe that?\"\n\n\"Do you expect me to believe you're name is really Dean? Just tell me what happened with the cairn before I put a bullet somewhere unpleasant.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay just calm down I'm getting to that! Anyways, all I did was clear away all the brush. And I walked 6 sunwise circles around it.\" \n\nCassie let out a groan and put her gun down on a small table. \"And just why would you do that?!\" \n\nDean shrugged, \"well because nothing happened the first three times and I thought maybe I didn't do it enough!\" \n\nCassie furrowed her brow in frustration and rubbed her temples. With a sigh she asked him, \"noooo why walk around it at all?\"\n\nDean, without breaking character shrugged again and said, \"oh just curious I suppose.\"\n\n\".....just curious.....\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"You suppose...\" \n\n\"Yeah that's all there is to It.\"\n\n\"Bullshit.\"\n\n\"Okay maybe... Maybe I thought it would create a portal to another dimension full of otherworldly treasures and knowledge.\"\n\n\"Bullshit!\" Cassie picked the gun back up and aimed it directly are Deans head.\n\nDean did his best to move his head out of the way, but he had forgotten he was restrained. \"No really! I read it in a bad scify story once! Or maybe it was an old legend. I don't know. I didn't think demons would come pouring out and infect the world!\"\n\n\"How come you didn't get killed when the portal opened?\" \n\n\"It wasn't open when I was there. Nothing happened after I completed the last circle. I looked at it in bemusement, shrugged, and the continued on my walk.\"\n\n\"Where did you go after you left the cairn?!\"\n\n\"Listen Cass. Can I call you Cass? I don't know what you guys did to knock me out but it really did a number on me. Let's talk after I take a........nap..... Yeah.\" With that Deans head fell forwards. Cassie prodded him with her foot. Them slapped him across the face. \"Dean wake up!\" \n\nA voice came on over the radio in her helmet. \"Inquisitor, how is the interrogation proceeding?\" \"Better than expected sir, he's a fountain of information...\" \"Excellent. I expect a full report when you are finished.\" \"Yes sir, Cassandra out.\"\n\nAs Cassie turned her mic off she turned and knocked on a door. \"Ramirez get a fucking medic in here ASAP! Looks like this ones gonna be out for a while.\" \n\n\"Yes sir! Uh... I mean ma'am!\" Ramirez turned and jogged down the hallway muttering to himself, \"geez you don't have to be a fucking bitch about it.\" A voice came on over Ramirez radio, \"I heard that!\"\n\"Fuck!\"\n\n\n", "...Well, that's one way to wake up, I guess.\n\nLast night, I'd been given my Last Rites. Today, i woke up in the freezer. I wasn't the only one.\n\nJoe Quentin Bloggs (yes, that was his actual name) had died a few days ago. Massive stroke. When he woke up, all he could say was, \"BRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLS\". I think he was a Shambler.\n\nWait. If he's a Shambling zombie, like in the Romero films, then what the hell am I? More importantly, why am i not in excruciating agony? I kicked the door open in the Freezer, and pushed myself out. I was desperate for a smoke. I wrapped myself in the shroud of my own death (I guess?) and pushed the exit button.\n\nThis led right into the parking lot. I approached the smoker's section and waved down one of the people. She was dressed like me, with blood soaking into her shroud around the middle fo the chest. \"Hey, you got a light?\" I asked.\n\nHer eyes went blood-red with a vicious fury. Abruptly, she nodded. \"Sure,\" she rasped. I thought I saw the hint of a lion's tail, but then, being dead is hard on the eyes. She handed me one of her smokes, and lit it. I breathed in the smoke, feeling the rush of...nothing.\n\nDammit.", "\"Jake! Jake! What're you doing?! That boat's supposed to fit the whole foster family and the orphanage- Turn it around!\"\n\n\"No, Amy! I don't think you quite understand what this apocalypse means!\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIt was the summer of 2015 when Jake and Amy woke up one day to find out that their entire city had been overrun by literally everything magically fantastical that's ever been thought up.\n\nVampires sucked blood from the workers at the local bloodbank. Demons made contracts alongside their fellow lawyers. Imps went around sexually harassing the elderly.\n\nOh, and zombies walked around, groaned a lot, and sorta killed a few thousand people or whatever. Nobody cares about the zombies, for Christ's sake, it's all about the fucking Cthulu godlike deities that were roaming the countryside.\n\nYeah, that's right. Motherfuckin' Cthulu.\n\nAnywho, in the past two hours and fifty-five minute of runtime, Jake and Amy had both managed to scavenge their resources, rescue the local children's shelter, and busted their way out of the city into the port.\n\nOld Man Jenkins, who was actually an ex-FBI agent the whole time, helped to guide them past the beasts that guarded the underground subway, the Manbearpigs, slaughterers of humans and other beasts of a sinsister ilk. Predictably, Jenkins died after running in and getting turned into a sub in a Subway at the subway.\n\nWith that standard important person loss, Jake and Amy were able to fulfill the story's climax and get onto a small dinghy, bound for Canada. The twenty something children and two caretakers that had followed them crammed themselves on-\n\nNope.\n\nI lied. That's not what happened at all.\n\nAs a matter of fact, Jake stole the boat from another orphanage and dragged Amy onto it with him, carrying four oars in hand.\n\nThat leads us to now. In the stolen boat that Jake's captaining somewhere southwards on the sea, while Amy is screaming her scratched-out lungs off.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Jake! Where are we going?! This doesn't look like Canada! There's too much sunshine! Too much!\" Amy screamed rowing as fast as she could.\n\nJake put a foot on the helm of the of the ship and gazed outwards towards the few little islands that lay ahead. Lush green mountains and smoking volcanoes filled the blue skyline with their inviting tropical splendor.\n\nHe paddled the oars as fast he can against the water, ignoring Amy until she decided to swallow up and spit a loogie right on the back of his head.\n\n\"Well, Amy! Tell me what's happening right now!\" said Jake as a meteor flew past his head and and landed into the water with an embarrassing 'pow.'\n\n\"The world's ending! Children are dying! THERE WERE COCKROACH ZOMBIES IN OUR APARTMENT!\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" said Jake as he thumped his chest with a heavy fist, \"And do you know what that means?!\"\n\n\"It means you're a goddamn lunatic steering us to the middle of nowhere!\" Amy snapped back.\n\nThe blood-filled waves of saltwater man-eating Catfish and sharks thrashed against the wood of the little ship, sending the passengers turning back in forth as they tried to maintain balance in the stormy, clear weather. We say stormy because there is lightning shooting out from the middle of goddamn Nowhere. Thanks a lot, Zeus! You dick!\n\nJake teared his shirt off and tied it around a cut on Amy's lower-left thigh. A romantic gesture that was then completely destroyed when Jake, in a strange act of uncomprehnsible logic, tore his pants off.\n\n\"WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK, JAKE?!\"\n\n\"Amy! You've read pirate books right! You know those weird fantasy kinds where there were seafarers roaming the land in hopes of some strange uncharted land?\"\n\n\"What about 'em- HOLY SHIT, COVER UP, PLEASE!\"\n\n\"There has always been one location that every man in the history of time has hoped to discover! A location that transcends all cultural rifts! All language barriers! All desires! Everything!\"\n\nAmy's eyes popped wide as she stared blankly at Jake, knowing full well the location he was talking about. She immediately sighed, handed the oars over, and tried to jump off the ship.\n\nUnfortunately for Amy, the pants that Jake had taken off had tied her firmly to the back of the ship, forcing her to stay on for the duration of the trip... or at least, until she bit her waist off and achieved freedom.\n\n\"No! Jake! No! Don't do it! It's not real! You're insane for believing that!\"\n\n\"It is in man's hopes and dreams that he should ever discover a land such as this!\" Jake cried out, cheering as the green trees and shiny white sand of the main island came into view. The sound of island birds chirping filled the two's ears as Jake crashed the vessel into a sandbar, throwing him and his companion face-first into the ground.\n\nAmy tried to run off again, only to find that she was, in fact, not Jesus, and couldn't run on water.\n\nJake, fully in commando, ran off into the jungle-forest ahead.\n\nHe was greeted with a scantily-clad looking hussy who was frying meat with no form of protection whatsoever for her breasts, arms, or stomach. Amazingly enough, she also had cat ears. Why? I don't know. You'll find out when Jake screams the reason for this particular phenomenon in about ten sentences from now.\n\nAmy caught up to the stupid man waving a burning stick in the air as she tried to burn down the whole goddamn island. Though the bark tried to light and smolder, it was all for naught, as the guardians of the jungle came out of the ground and detained her in the most gentlest way possible.\n\nWhile lounging around in the man-powered chariot-couch, Amy finally found Jake in the act of bathing with about five other women who all resembled said hussy from earlier. He giggled as the girls touched his naked form and poked jests at the size of his tiny package.\n\n\"Jake, please tell me this isn't where I think it is,\" said Amy as she was fed a grape by a rather hunky-looking gentleman in a top hat and leather pants.\n\n\"It's exactly where you think it is. The world's ending so have fun with it!\" Jake grinned from ear-to-ear, burying his head in the water to show off how long he could possibly last under warm, moist, and slightly-hairy conditions.\n\n\"Whatever you do- Don't say the goddamned name-\" the captive girl whined.\n\n\"I HAVE DISCOVERED WHORE ISLAND, AMY!\"" ]	5
	[WP] You're a taxi driver. One day a mysterious passenger asks you to drive him to his destination via a certain haunted road.	[ "♪Well lemme tell a story 'bout this man I knew...♪\n\n♪He got a taxi cab and he got on through...♪\n\n♪But life was simple then; drive and get paid\n'til a mystery man whistled one day...♪\n\n♪Black trenchcoat and shifty eyes\nwit' a hunched over stance 'n' something to hide...♪\n\n♪But the taxi man's thoughts were overrode\nwith the promise of cash 'n' a journey...\na journey...\ndown IronField Road...♪\n\n♪He had heard the stories of the misty gale\n'n' the cracks in the pavement 'n' his angel wailed\n'gainst the devil on his shoulder...♪\n\n♪But Hell wasn't gettin' any colder...♪\n\n♪He didn't return 'til 5 that night\n'n' the mystery man was outta our sights...♪\n\n♪But the taxi man got colder...\n'n' the taxi man got bolder...\n'n' the taxi man look'd young...\nBut the taxi man look'd older...♪\n\n♪He's takin' me out for a night in the town\n'n' I can't shake the feelin' somethin' 'bout to go down...♪\n\n♪But maybe 'twas only an episode...♪\n\n♪And there ain't somethin' evil down there...♪\n\n♪Down there...\non IronField Road...♪\n\n>An excerpt from \"IronField Road\", recorded 25th June 1973, 2 days before the disappearance of famous folk musician 'Rowdy' Dick Rafferty.", "I wake up. Shower, eat, stare blankly at the wall where the TV used to be. \nI look at my watch. 3:34 AM. I stare at the wall. I drum my fingers on the counter. I look at the empty bottle on the counter and then dart my eyes away. 3:35. Fuck it. I grab my keys and clock in for another shift on my phone on the way out of the door.\n\n\nThe soulless yellow bucket of bolts in my driveway greets me with a blink of it's foggy headlights as I click the doors unlocked. Even another day drifting through the streets, generating a meager income as a pathetically apathetic observer into the lives of those around me beats sitting at home expecting them to come back. What day is it? I check my phone. Sunday. 6 days they've been gone. I twist my melancholic mechanical monster into life. The sound of the thing is like the earth wheezing its last breaths, perfectly encompassing the slow death with which the greed of man has cursed the earth.\n\nAfter 3 there's no business to be had anywhere remotely respectable. Anyone with a normal job or real responsibilities is at home, asleep in a house full of family and love. The rest of us are out here doing something we probably shouldn't be. If I get lucky, it's a night of escorts kicked out by their clients post-afterglow and alcoholics with more money than sense. If I'm unlucky it's some punk with a gun, the loss of the $50 I leave in my wallet, and a small sense of satisfaction that I get knowing that none of them have yet found the actual money in my socks, and of course another unanswered report mailed to the cab company. \n\n\nTonight it's different. Strange. Not even the usual suspects prowling the corners and alleys. I coast down Mckeele through the post-rain fog and there's not a soul in sight. Everybody must be resting up for church in the morning. I manage a smile at the thought. I turn a corner and see a man in one of those 80s detective trenchcoats push through a doorway and wave me down. \n\n\"Just in time.\"\nHe flashes me a smile.\n\n\n\"Where to?\"\n\n\n\"Hold on a sec.\"\nHe goes back into the doorway, then returns a few moments later dragging one of those big-ass hockey bags.\n\n\"Pop the trunk.\"\nI pop the trunk with a familiar clunk, and the man heaves the bag inside and slams it shut before getting into the back seat. I look at him through my rearview.\n\n\"Where to?\"\n\nHe gives me a quizzical look.\n\n\"How long have you been doing this?\"\n\n\"Long enough. Where to?\"\n\nHe smiles. \"63 Woodsmouth.\"\n\nI punch it into my GPS. It's a ways out of town. \n\n\"I'm assuming you can pay for this Columbo.\"\n\nHe looks at me for a second before giving a hearty laugh.\n\n\"I like you.\"\n\nI start driving. The fog makes it hard to see but the streets are empty. The writer falls asleep. \n\nI'll finish this after I get some rest", "It seemed like another normal boring day driving my taxi around New York City. That is until he showed up. he was a strange looking man like someone out of a movie. He had on a trench coat and he had it pulled up so high that you could not see his face. He gets in and hands me an address. I tell him this address is 50 miles out of the city and its going to cost him. He throws a bag onto the front seat and as it lands the top opens and reveals money. Lots of money probably about a thousand dollars. I tell him this should cover it even though it is way to much but he makes no action to correct me so I drive off. It took us an hour to get out of the city and the entire time he never said a word. I guess this is good considering I don't like talking. After about another half an hour of driving I see the street listed on the address he hands me. It looks like no one has driven on it in a long time. The dirt has no tracks, the grass on either side is about as tall as the car itself, and the name I know I have heard that name somewhere before. I ask him how far down the road it is and he says all the way. At some point it had started to rain but I hadn't noticed since I am used to rain just starting and stopping when I am driving. Its a light rain though nothing to bad. Then all of the sudden a lightning bolt shoots out of the sky and hits the tree about 30 feet in front of me which then falls to the ground. I slam on the brakes and then get out of the cab to investigate. \"Well it looks like you are going to have to walk from here\". \"NO!\" His voice was booming and it actually scared me a bit. He gets out of the cab and walks up to the tree. As if it were a pile of twigs he picks the entire thing up and throws it off to the side of the road. He gets back in the cab while I just stand there trying to figure out what just happens. I here is voice from inside the car, \"Now Drive!\" I jump a little bit but I get back in and start driving. I start to get this strange feeling I am not supposed to be here. The rain starts to get heavier and the skies darker. I turn on my headlights but they don't do much. I have complained multiple times to the company but they don't seem to care about me. Every once in a while I think I see something on the side of the road but I try and pass it off as my imagination. I see a dark figure dart about 2 feet in front of my car and I slam on the breaks. I grab my flashlight and get out to check and make sure everything is ok. \"It is fine! Now just keep driving!\" I, for some reason, believe him and keep driving, maybe it is my fear of him that I have developed. I keep driving. Another dark figure appears in front of my car. \"KEEP DRIVING!\" The figures are starting to multiply and then they start chasing the car. \"KEEP DRIVING!\" They start climbing on top of my car. \"KEEP DRIVING!\" Finally I see a house and all of the creatures disappear. The house is a big old falling apart mansion. It doesn't look like anybody has lived here for a long time. He gets out and tells me not to follow him. He says to drive back to the city and never tell anybody about what happened. He then walks into the house. I debate following him for a while and finally I decide it is too dangerous and make the long drive back to the city." ]	3
Edit: From a biosphere, or a colony, or a terraformed mars, or any other means to survive on mars	[WP] You are one of the people sent to mars in 2020. Everyone thinks you volunteered for a suicide mission. You watch from a biosphere as Earth gets demolished by a large asteroid.	[ "The slow tickle of blood from her nose went unnoticed for almost ten minutes. We watched the VicRo replay the same image. Earth, taken out like a dirt clot against a wall. I tried to feel it, the way I used to, but there was nothing inside me that felt like God or prayer. \n\nJesus Christ. I wanted to mouth the words, but it was a fucking dead reference. That is what brought me down to my knees. It was then I learned that God never existed. And if he did, he was playing marbles with the people I loved. \n\nThe people I left behind. \n\nThe people who's last screams were sealed inside my wife's eyes. \n\nWhen I turned to find comfort in the last vestige of my childhood, Logan's mouth was open in a silent scream. She was bleeding from her nose, the red trailing across her upper lip and to the side. \n\nThen she collapsed, clutching her heart and screaming. No! \n\nShe crumpled the fabric of her cotton shirt in her hands, showing a thin line of her belly. She was pale, far more than her Irish roots suggested. She was trying to form words. \"I... I... heard it.\" \n\nI HEARD IT I HEARD IT HEARD IT HEARD IT HEARD IT HEARD IT \n\nThe words played inside my head, broadcasted by her absolute panic. She tried to stop it, moving her hands to her face, streaking the blood up her cheek. She curled her hands around her ears and pressed down. \n\nBut there was nothing she could do to erase the truth in her mind. \n\nShe had heard the last gasping scream of the planet. \n", "I looked just in time to see the slaughtering of seven billion men, women, and children.\n\n\"Back up.\" I hear you saying. Well, I'm John Smith, the most generically named astronaut you'll find out there. And, for that matter, the most generic astronaut. I had a double master's degree in mechanical and electrical engineering. I have neither a wife or kids, my parents have already passed, etc. etc. Basically nothing holding me back to Earth. I was selected as one of the Mars One astronauts, and am of the first batch (\"Crew One\") of astronauts being sent to the Mars colony, in 2025. \n\n\nAs it turns out, this is also the last batch of astronauts being sent to the Mars colony.\n\n\nI was floating in the Mars Transfer Vehicle, looking at Earth as we departed. Then it happened. I couldn't see the asteroid at first; it was black and didn't really stand out against the black void of space. But when it smacked into Earth, it was easily visible. From my vantage point it appeared to be about a twentieth of the earth's size. \n\nIt began by transiting the Earth. I was in awe at this spherical thing, and sort of smiled at the beauty. But then I saw a shadow form on the surface of Earth, and my heart sank and my jaw dropped. When the shadow kissed the asteroid, the asteroid more or less sank through the crust of the Earth. The impact sent a huge shock wave rippling through the crust, and then carved away the crust from the Earth and threw Mantle material kilometers over the Earth. It spread far and wide, then came back to Earth, bombarding it. The expanding crater enveloped Africa and Asia the rest of the world was pockmarked with other impacts. After it was all said and done, the Earth was more or less an orange glow.\n\nI yelled at the top of my lungs.\n\n\"GUYS! GUUUYS!\"\n\nEveryone bounced their way to the window and looked out.\n\n\n\"Oh my god ... is that ... Earth?\"\n\nAt first I denied my colleague's remark. It can't be Earth. This can't be happening. No. Impossible. A tear formed in my eye. On Earth, it would have cut down my cheek, but in the free fall of an Earth Departure orbit, it just bubbled up. I wiped the tear onto my flight suit.\n\n\"It was.\"", "-Astronaut log entry #1834 0945 11/21/2020\nI came here alone. Leaving everything I knew on Earth, or at least what was earth. My friends told me I was a madman for accepting this mission they said I would never see another human being again. Alas I knew this, I knew from the start. NASA didn't select me for any particular reason, I was an average Air Force pilot and made a damn average astronaut but its not like I needed to be particularly exceptional for this mission. I sit here in my chair, one of four remaining humans, the others headed for there own planets. I placed my memorial to human kind a few years back, my mission was complete with that. Some vestige of a memory that humans were here, a last shout into the void of our past. At 0723 I watched from a front row seat at Delta 454 crashed into earth wiping it out in a instant. I know there is little chance that any lifeforms will find each of little memorials but at least we tried. Time to sign off, I feel the warmth of posion flowing through my body. At least its finally over.\n-End Entry ", "A tear rode down my face as I watched the explosion from a meteor tearing through the earth. \"Seven billion people gone\" I say to my self. I take off in a dead sprint from the cargo bay area of our space station. \"Only about 1000 feet from here to my room\", I think to my self as the agony and realization that everything I ever loved and cherished was just ripped apart by a chunk of space rock. The fear that my entire family had just been obliterated weighed heavy enough on my mind that my legs turned to lead and my lungs couldn't supply my body with enough oxygen. Just as I come up to my room, I drop down into a full blown panic attack. Everything is silent. All the screaming, crying, and wailing that I heard moments ago all turned into a dull ringing in my ears as I break down crying, curling up in the fetal position. That's when I hear it. The ping of a video voicemail on my computer. I pick my self up, still half crying as I read who the message is from. \"1004 Bucksby Avenue, Dallas, Texas\" illuminates my screen as I double click the message. The screen goes black for a second, then opens up on a picture of the old living room at my parent's house. \"Oh my gosh!\" My mom squeals, \"I cannot believe that my baby boy is becoming a Martian! Promise you won't forget us when you're an extraterrestrial, okay, sweetie?\" That's whenever I hear it, the sharp siren of the automated EMS message that broadcasts over every television station and website on the computer, \"a large meteor is expected to narrowly miss earth in a few minutes. If you look to the western sky, you can see the dark object getting larger by the minute. This is supposedly the closest that a meteor has ever come to earth without burning up in the atmosphere.\" \"Well, golly gosh can you believe that, Marv? The closest ever!\" Mom says. \"Yeah. I can believe it, Judy. They just said it on the TV! I can't believe I missed Final Jeopardy for that lousy, shitty message\" my dad says. He's always been one to get mad about the smallest things. \n\"Come say hello to your son, Marv! They just reached 500 miles away from earth!\" \n\"Alright. I'm coming, I'm coming!\"\n\"Wow that thing is really getting close isn't it, Marv?\" my mom asks, \"anyways, we just wanted to wish you luck on this voyage! We know that you've always wanted to go. We just can't believe that you were one of the 1000 selected! Seven bullion people on this earth and they choose a Wilkerton! But, we just wanted to let you know that we love you, honey, and that we miss you already. We love y-.\" The message cuts off there. I check the time stamp. It was a live stream that ended as soon as the meteor hit the earth. I never got to tell them that I missed them and that I loved them. Now all we can hope for is that Mars is hospitable, because it's all we have left.", "\"Two Minutes until impact.\"\nThe only sound breaking the ghastly silence was the safe, familiar hums and beeps and of our telecommunication equipment. I still couldn't believe this was really happening. \nAfter two weeks of setting up camp we had finally re-established comms with Earth, we had gathered some extra rations and decorated the unit after a fashion in excitement for the moment. \nOur reception was one of despair and disbelief. \n\"Ground team alpha we read you loud and clear.\" A moment's pause. \"Ground team before you start celebrating, there is some news you have to hear. We can't think of any easy way to say this and we can't quite believe it ourselves but, there is an asteroid on impact trajectory with Earth and we expect contact in approximately 13 days.\" \nThe food became tasteless in our mouths and any sense of reverie was forgotten. More than one of the team threw up straight away, I had trouble comprehending what we had just heard. \n\"Houston this is Ground Team, what the fuck are you talking about?\" McKinley's voice shakily replied into the mic. \n\"We don't have the time, nor the resources to send another mission. The best we can hope for is evacuating as many as possible into-\" \n\"Stop talki- Just shut up for a second. What the fuck do mean you expect contact in 13 days!?\" \n\"We expect asteroid KP-14 to collide with Earth over the Australian subcontinent in approximately 317 hours.\" \n\"Jesus fucking christ.\" \nRogers and Hannoway were weeping by this stage, I was just numb. I couldn't do anything, couldn't say anything, couldn't feel anything. The next 13 days felt longer than the whole journey here. Heated debates with Houston on getting any and every space vessel sent up with as many people as possible for us to pick up when we are ready ended in just more tears and sore throats. \n\"10 seconds.\" The voise was devoid of any emotion. Resigned to the fate hurling towards them at colossal speeds. \nWe had set up the digital telescope and had it pointed towards Earth in some sense of morbid curiosity. We needed to see this. \n\"We'll remember you.\" Was all McKinley had time to reply. \nThe speed of the impact was unbelievable. One minute our screen was filled with Earth's graceful beauty, the next searing white light and dust and rocks flung in every direction. The was no doubt in my mind that there were no survivors. Everything on the planet would have been vaporised in that instant. I just couldn't help thinking how strange it was to hear no sound. Surely destruction on such an enormous scale should have been heard from the far reaches of our solar system. But there was nothing. Only light, and then, broken fragments of rock hurling out into space, like some favourite vase shattered on the floor. \n\n", "“Goodbye, my lover. Goodbye, my friend.”\n\n“How fitting,” I thought to myself. James Blunt music while I’m in a pod miles and miles away from home. I guess it must’ve been some M2M employee’s sorry excuse for a joke. I turned the volume knob on the control panel all the way down to zero, enveloping myself in silence.\n\nThis is good. It felt like I hadn’t treated myself to a round of silence for some time. The silence helped me clear my mind. To think about everything. To think about nothing.\n\n*\n“You’ll get to start a new life. Forget all your worries. Just leave them all behind!” said the salesman pitching me what he called a vacation to remember.\n\nI was skeptical. I mean, who wouldn’t be of a trip to another planet, all expenses paid, no strings attached. I went over the fine print multiple times. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing I had to be worried about. All I had to do was give them my name and contact number. They said they would call me if I was selected.\n\nI received the call two days later.\n\n\nI was travelling at high speeds, but this ship and suit I wore kept all my innards in place. They told it was safe, not that I was concerned in the first place. I was about ready to kill myself before the trip if I didn’t agree to be a passenger.\n\nI hated my life. I hated my family. I had no friends – if I did, I would have probably hated them too.\n\nFrom the frying pan into the fire – that idiom basically defined my life. Except that it was a never-ending series of pans and stoves. I kept going from one shitty situation to another. Nothing was going my way. I had lost my job. My country’s economy was shit. I had no savings. My dog had left me. I was being evicted from my home in a few days. I had nobody to borrow money from. There was nobody for me to turn to.\n\nNothing short of me finding a huge bag of money on the floor could have dug me out of my financial situation. Assuming I didn’t get robbed after finding that money.\n\nSo when I was approached by a stranger working for some company called M2M (Mission 2 Mars) and he promised me a better life away from home, I signed up on the spot.\n\nAfter all, I was on the way to a drug store to steal some medication to kill myself with. I was ready to end it all.\n\n\n“You always know how to make me smile,” I told Sparks. I had just come home from work – to be more accurate, after being fired from work. The mutt ran away that very night.\n\n\nI was on a one way trip to Mars. And I regret nothing. I stared out the window as Earth gradually became smaller and smaller. Gosh, Earth does look as beautiful as it does in the books and movies I’ve seen. Especially from up here.\n\nThen I noticed from a distance, what I thought was merely piece of space debris, an asteroid flying towards Earth. I guess it was pretty far away when I first saw it, because right now it looked to be about half the size of Earth.\n\nIt was hurtling towards the planet at an extremely high speed, drenched in flames, like a big fucking fireball.\n\n\n“You’ll never amount to anything! Look at yourself! You’re a piece of shit! I regret not having the abortion!” were the very last words my mother told me before she left with dad after their weekend visit to the shanty side of town a.k.a. my home. Dad was quiet as usual. But I knew his silence was consent.\n\n\nI watched the asteroid – the big fucking fireball – crash into Earth. It blew the planet to smithereens. And as quickly as it happened, it was over.\n\nEarth was no more. And I was on a ship to its neighboring planet.\n\n\n“Forty hours till your destination.” said the voice over the PA system.\n\n\nI never really cared about that place anyway.\n\nI never cared about that place anyway.\n\nI never cared about that place.\n\nI never cared.\n\nGood riddance.\n\nAs I stared into the space which was taken up by Earth, I could feel the side of my mouth turning upwards, slowly creeping into a smile.", "From where I sat, it was a quiet end.\n\nIt was a beautiful violent explosion that lasted, frankly, longer than I thought it would.\n\nI read somewhere one time that you theoretically could hear sound in space - or that sound travelled. But I couldn't hear anything.\n\nNot when the asteroid breached the Earth's atmosphere, not when it hit the Earth, not when 7 billion people - minus the 15 with me on the next planet over - screamed in concert then stopped.\n\nWe had all, on the colony, had the chance to accept what was going to happen. We were going to start anew. Bringing life to a dead planet after our very much alive one was destroyed.\n\n\"Can't have any panic\" they said. \"Don't want to start any riots\". So I left my family for the last time. I said goodbye to them weeks before I even left. I think Sherry could tell. It wasn't the first time we had drifted from each other, after all.\n\nI twisted my wedding ring around my finger as I watched the world burn until it was almost as red as the dirt beneath my feet.\n\nThere was a sense of grim humor. Party hats were worn by the rest of the crew members - we used a week's ration of food on making a cake. Li played Pachelbel's Canon in D which was nice and all, but felt a little on the nose.\n\nAnd then, when the rubble started to get too small to see, it hit me.\n\nI had months to prepare myself for this. I had it chained to me and dragged it around, digging into my skin until you couldn't tell where the simple fact of my comparative immortality began and ended. \n\nSherry - our kids - they had minutes - maybe seconds - before it hit them - literally hit them - that this was it.\n\nAnd I laughed. \n\nAnd that was what the end of humanity sounded like. A long silence and then a gasping laugh - desperate - clinging to the hope it wouldn't die on this rock.", "It was the 9th of March 2018. 11 years ago.\n\nNASA released applications to be one of the first men to go the Mars in 2020 to settle. I was one of them. I was 28 with a Masters in Physics and Math and I decided to be an explorer to Mars.\n\n\"Adkins, Daniel. American citizen. Birth date 25th of July 1990. Masters Degree in Physics and Mathematics.\"\n\nI filed it and applied to it. A week later, they released the information through email. I was one of them. I was happy. My family, my friends, they think it's for nothing. Everyone on Earth does. Mars is inhospitable. It's a suicide mission.\n\nMe and five other individuals, two other men and three women, trained for two years. We spent a long time alone.\n\nThen the day finally came. 10th of August 2020. Launch day.\n\nWe were set to be launched in a new Astra-X rocket, super massive containing artificial habitats. When we were preparing to launch, we saw someone loading large barrels of some container. We shrugged it off and then twenty minutes later we launched. We spend seven months and twenty three days going to Mars. When we landed, we got to see Mars.\n\nIt was beautiful, with a sand-like surface, with scattered brown rocks everywhere with the sun shining with its orange light and the intriguing orange colored skies of Mars. It was freezing at night, but warm at day.\n\nThe date was Sol Jovis, 21th of Aquarius 7, or 3rd of September 2023.\n\nNASA called us early, at six o'clock, MTC time. It was quite early since the usual time was eight o'clock, MTC time.\n\nThe operators at NASA seem scared. They were in a panic.\n\nI still remember the operators' last word.\n\n\"Godspeed to you Martian explorers. Whatever you do don't look to the skies. We will all be looking at you from the stars.\"\n\nAfter that there was this odd frequency. I called to team to go outside.\n\nWe looked to the skies and it was clear even through the biodome.\n\nAn asteroid collided with Earth. We all gasped. After a moment of panic, I went to the storage room and I find the large containers. They all contain millions of fertilized human eggs. The team immediately used the device.\n\nAnd that takes us today. Sol Solis, 11th of Cancer 18. Humanity has risen again in our new home at the Martian biodomes. We now have a colony of thousands.\n\nHowever, we, the original explorers, still have one dying question. Did they knew? Did NASA knew that Earth, and all its inhabitants are going to die? And is that why they send us, to settle on Mars as our new home?", "There it was. My home. \nAlit with flames, I am lost - \ndrifting in the black void.* \n \nI look ahead, forward \nthe red pain looms. Waits. \nWhat is expected of me here? \n \nOutside, it's barren. \nCold, bright, and dazzling. Judging me. \nAlone, I must live. \n \nDays pass, and then weeks. \nSurrounded by this harsh red soil \nI weep for mankind. \n \nShe haunts me in dreams. \nHer blue skies, icy oceans of foam \nHumans were selfish. \n \nCurious to ponder - \nOnes species in past-tense. \nRed hate consumes me. \n \nTime flies here on Mars \nA month gone, isolated. \nWhat's there to live for? \n \nI should just give in. \nThe red pain has no mercy. \nHope is dead. Why wait? \n \nI draw my final breath \nsolemnly, for humanity's end. \nI open up the door. \n \nIn my mind, I recall \na wondrous land of blue and green \nweep for it's last child.\n\n\n", "My family thought I was insane and worried endlessly. My friends laughed and called me a Martian but then would quietly voice their concerns even as they congratulated me. The people I worked with wondered who would get my office at my going away party. Strangers would come up to me on the street and pat me on the back then proudly quote their favorite Star Trek, Firefly and Interstellar lines; they wished me well and shared their own desires to go into space some day.\n\nThey were all dead now. The Earth...gone. It was all broken matter drifting without gravity, without grass and oxygen. I would see none of those I loved nor any I liked, hated or didn't even care about either way, ever again. \n\nI am one of a small group of survivors. I was told to keep my actual education and knowledge secret until it was made obvious to us that secrecy was no longer necessary. I guess that time is now.\n\nThere are whispers, rumors, that there are other groups and other biospheres that are older, elsewhere on Mars. A few don't believe it and a couple have sunk into a near oblivious deep despair from which I don't know if they'll survive. We now all know about our true individual histories, so it seems.\n\nThere are three large, inbound space vessels approaching. None of us have been informed previously of these. Many people are ecstatically happy, some are wary, but we are all curious.", "I dont know why I took this stupid job. \nDont get me wrong, there was nothing left for me back on earth but crippling debt, two disappointed parents, and a beached whale of a girlfriend, but god damn, if I'd known what i was getting myself into...\nMom and pop were real proud when they found out their son was going to be an astronaut. They were less proud when people started chastising the entire crew for being suicidal maniacs. Thank god I dont have life insurance. \n\nIll admit, I was pretty excited at first as well. The representative from Space X came knocking on my stuido apartment's poor excuse for a door, all white teeth and quick chatter, spouting words like, \"hero\" and \"pioneer\", but all I really heard was \"ten million miles away from here\". I shook his hand, took the application, and filled it out on the spot. Two weeks later I got a confirmation note in the mail telling me to show up to the Space X outpost in Florida. Didn't even tell Beth, my by-now-for-sure-ex-girlfriend, where I was going. Didnt even pack a bag. Just took the car and left. \n\nWhen I got there I met some of the most impressive people I had ever seen. Most of them, like myself, had some sort of background in aeronautics, but every person had other skills that were their real specialites. The team captain was the squad leader of a navy seal team, as well as an olympic athlete. He was 5'9, bald, and built like a goddamn panther. The other members were all the same ilk: athletic, smart, Ivy League graduates. They glanced over me like I was the mission's new janitor. \n\nThankfully, I earned some respect when they learned my real role. In a team of ten, I was the botanist, and my role was vital: get something edible to grow on the red soil of mars, or everybody starves. \n\nAnd that brings us up to now, with me, in this greenhouse with a red sky above me, watering a fucking house fern with an Ace Hardware watering can. Cant say I haven't done my job though. I stalk over to the rows of tomatoes in grow boxes and poor some water over them. Ill be honest, i've always liked plants more than people. Plants are simple and follow a strict science, unlike people. Plants arent ever disappointed in you, or scowling at you. They're simply either alive or dead. Fruitful or sterile. Green or brown. Food or compost. I wish people could be more like plants. \n\nSuddenly, the greenhouse door bursts open and I see Jason, this skinny twig of a man, panting and holding the door frame for support. \n\n\"Emergency... meeting... in the lounge...\" he pants in between gulps of air. I walk over to the tool rack and carefully replace the watering can in its proper spot.\n\n\"I haven't finished watering,\" I tell him as I walk slowly over. \"You want us all to starve?\"\n\n\"What part... of emergency... dont you understand?\" \n\nI snort at him, and he turns tail and runs off to grab the rest of the crew. I seal the door behind myself and walk down the white hallway, glancing out the window to observe the barren landscape as I walk by. Its all so red. Its like people: it needs more plants. \n\nI finally reach a pair of foreboding doors lit up with blue LED strips. I punch in my keycode on the pin pad and the door opens with a hydraulic burst of air. I walk through and see the entire crew sitting in front of the holographic screen on the far wall, Jason in the corner heaving so hard Im wondering if he's going to throw up. The entire team is watching the screen, which shows a 2-D image of the entire solar system. The team captain, Jezebel, turns to me. \n\n\"Finally, we're all here,\" he says, his voice uncharacteristically shaking. \"Please, have a seat.\" I continue to stand behind the rest of the crew, my eye watching the screen intently.\n\n\"What's so important that we're going to risk starvation, Captain?\" I sneer. The rest of the squad shoots daggers at me and I can see some of them have tears in their eyes. I stare calmly back at them.\n\n\"We've... we've discovered something terrible. It seems that... well, look for yourself.\" Jezebel reaches over and touches several components on the screen, and it zooms in on the model solar system to reveal a giant picture of an asteroid, hurtling through space. I turn my head to the side. Jezebel completes several more motions, and the asteroid now has a line in front of it labeled \"Asteroid Course\". The screen zooms out and I can now see what has the whole crew so anxious. The line labeled \"Asteroid Course\" directly crosses through Earth. \n\n\"Now, this data isn't exact,\" Jezebal says, sounding as much as though trying to convince himself as the crowd before him. \"Our instruments make mistakes, its very possible this asteroid will completely miss-\"\n\n\"Estimated time of collision?\" I interrupt him. \n\n\"Excuse me?\" he replies, looking taken aback.\n\n\"Estimated. Time. Of. Collision?\" I say pointedly. \n\n\"A-a-ah, it's, i-it's,\" he stammers for a moment, before regaining his composure. \"Its set to pass by Earth any moment now. We have a live feed.\" He flicks the screen over again, and now its showing a live high-definition satellite feed of earth. \n\n\"Now, again, there is no reason to assume that our data is 100% accurate,\" he continues, but its almost as if the silence of the room drowns him out. On the screen you can see a small red dot in the horizon, no larger than a regular star. Then, it slowly grows larger and larger, until its the size of a dime, a quarter, then the moon. Someone whispers, \"no...\" \n\nThen it hits. An asteroid the size of the entire northern US rams into the Earth, and the mantle cracks and shudders before breaking apart entirely. The atmosphere ignites and a spectacular show of fire engulfs the entire planet. The satellite feed begins to cut in and out, and the last image before it goes dead is that of pieces of Earth floating out into space. There's a brief moment of complete silence, and then the room erupts into terrified screams. Even Jezebel falls down and begins to claw at his face like a desperate animal. People begin to run around, although Im not sure where to. Jason finally throws up into a trash recycler, which gives a cheerful \"ding\" and registers it as, \"bio-waste\".\n\n I turn away from the chaos and open the main door again, walking back down the hallway away from the sounds of chaos. I come to the greenhouse doors and enter my code and they slide open again. I stalk over to the rack and retrieve my watering can, returning to my calm, serene tomatoes. \n\n\"Yes,\" I think to myself, the sounds of panic echoing throughout the entire base and into the dead martian atmosphere. \"People need to be more like plants.\"", "My nose was pressed into the glass and my eyes were gleaming with disbelief. \n\nI felt like a kid peering through the window of a candy shop, but the confectioner wasn't making taffy or chocolates. No, he was setting the shop on fire.\n\nI scrubbed away the condensation that my breath left on the airlock window. I couldn't possibly see it happen from here. Not with the naked eye. \n\nI can use my imagination though. Mission Control spelled it out clearly enough with their last transmission. \n\n\"Inevitable collision with large mass. Planetary destruction imminent.\"\n\nIt already happened anyway. My crew mates took the easy way out after the news. I guess it was all too heavy for them.\n\nI won't receive any additional supplies. I can survive another 2 years on current stock, but it'll end there.\n\nI'm the last human alive. I'm the last human being to record my thoughts. I'm the last human being say or do anything. What could I possibly say?\n\nThis truly was a suicide mission. \n\nIt was nice knowing ya, Universe. \n\nSincerely,\n\nThe Human Race\n", "“You are humanity’s last hope.”\n\nI looked around the room, at all the gloomy faces turned expectantly in my direction.\n\nI couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke.\n\n“I… uh… I…”\n\n“You accept the mission, then?”\n\nLike hell I did.\n\nI took a deep breath and attempted to steady myself. A moment passed as I gathered my thoughts, and then I spoke.\n\n“No. I cannot. I refuse to accept your proposition.”\n\nThe man sitting at the head of the table sighed and placed his hand on the pile of papers in front of him.\n\n“We’ve done tests on all available personnel, Mr. Fischer. Your genes are the best of anyone’s here. No one is better suited for this mission… or rather… duty.” He made sure to stress the last word, and gave me a meaningful look as he said it.\n\nI scoffed. “It’s my duty, you say? My duty to abandon the Earth, to abandon all 7 billion people here? My duty to only save myself?”\n\nHis next words came without hesitation – I was taken aback by the certainty in his voice.\n\n“Yes. Yes it is. If you don’t take on this mission, you are dooming mankind for eternity. Whether you go or not, every man, woman, and child on this planet will die. But if you stay, you would be letting them die in vain. You would deny our entire species a future.”\n\nThe weight of the world on my shoulders. Literally. No, I couldn’t accept this.\n“There has to be some other way! Underground shelters, nuking the asteroid, colony ships, whatever – there has to be something!”\n\nHe slammed the table in exasperation.\n\n“No, Mr. Fischer, there isn’t. If there was any other way, we would have done it by now. If there was any other way, you would not be standing here today.\n\n“We’ve investigated every possible course of action, including the ones you mentioned. This asteroid – if we can even call it that – is larger than our moon. Destroying or diverting it is out of the question. Underground shelters would get obliterated along with the surface. We don’t have the resources to build ships for the entirety of the Earth's population, and we certainly do not want to risk a mass panic.”\n\nHe paused to gauge how I was reacting to all this.\n\n“Do you understand, Mr. Fischer?”\n\nI gulped.\n\n“Give me… give me some time to think about this. I… I need to talk this over with my family.”\n\nThere was a sharp intake of breath shared around the table. The Chairman folded his hands and bit his lip.\n\n“Well, you see, Mr. Fischer… We think it would be best if you didn’t do that. Your wife would not be the best choice for accompanying you on this mission. We have, uh, already chosen someone for that role.” \n\nDread consumed me. I felt my heart begin to race.\n\n“No…” I whispered.\n\n“I’m sorry. No one outside of this facility can be entrusted with this information, your family members included. Nothing will be made public until the final day. You can send them your farewells then.”\n\n“No!” I screamed. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t! \n\n“I won’t do this!” I was fuming now. “You’re simply asking too much of me! This is too much of burden for one man. I cannot sacrifice my family, not for anything!”\n\nThe Chairman nodded sadly. “I see. I’m sorry it had to come to this, Mr. Fischer. My hope is that, one day, you’ll understand.” He leaned back in his chair and looked over my shoulder.\n\nI slowly turned to follow his gaze.\n\n“Subdue him.”\n\nAnd with that, the world went black.\n\n \n__________\n\n \n“Eden, this is Houston. We’d like you to run another check on all systems, including the Genesis module. We want to confirm one last time that the embryos are doing well.”\n\nShe reached for the release on her restraint, but I placed my hand on her arm to stop her.\n\n“I’ll handle this.”\n\nShe smiled and settled back into her seat. “Alright then,” she whispered.\n\nI opened the latch and pushed myself forwards. From there, I gently kicked the wall of the ship and slowly floated to the back, where all our modules and provisions were held.\n\nReaching the computer, I grabbed on to the edge of the monitor and swung myself into position. After a few moments, I had the check up and running.\n\nOne green light after the other.\n\n“All systems green, Houston.”\n\n“I see. Thank you, Eden.”\n\nThe voice on the other end had noticeably softened. The asteroid must be closing in now.\n\nMy heart, already damaged countless times by this mission, found itself shattering once again.\n\nI closed my eyes and waited in silence.\n\nThis was the end.\n\nWhen the voice came again, I broke. The operator was crying.\n\n“Goodbye, Eden. This has been Houston. We wish you the best of luck.”\n\nI felt a tear run down my cheek.\n\n“Goodbye… Earth.”\n\n \n__________\n\n \n\nI placed my hands on the keyboard and typed:\n\nLog 0001 – August 31st, 2021\n\nI gently tapped the record button, and began to speak.\n\n“My name is Adam Fischer. My partner on this mission is Eva Blaskowitz. We have arrived on Mars – all is well. For future reference, this log marks the first night of the Eden Rebirth Project.”\n\nI paused and looked up at the Martian skies. Untainted by light pollution, the view of the stars here was absolutely breathtaking.\n\nI smiled a bittersweet smile.\n\nAnd I wept.\n\n__________\n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3jar2s/wp_you_are_one_of_the_people_sent_to_mars_in_2020/cuolhuf)\n", "It started off just like any other day, I guess. I woke up to the smell of bacon wafting through the halls as my wife made breakfast and the sound of the Martian Morning News coming from the television in the living room. A team of climbers had finally made it to the top of Olympus Mons. Took them months.\n\nI was in the shower when I heard my wife scream. I immediately jumped out of the shower and quickly threw on my shorts and ran out to the living room where I saw her on the floor, sobbing, and holding Emmy's head close against her chest.\n\nI asked her what was wrong. She looked at me through bloodshot eyes, her face red and twisted with pain and shock. Her mouth hung open and whenever she tried to speak, the only sound that escaped from her was a strangled wail. She looked at the television. I moved behind her, still dripping wet from my shower, and that's when I saw it.\n\nThe biggest fucking meteor I've ever seen slammed into Earth. It must have been the size of Phobos.\n\nI didn't believe what I was seeing. I couldn't. I kept trying to tell myself it was all a bad dream. That any second now, I would wake up.\n\nBut as the impact replayed on the TV over and over, it drove that feeling of dread deeper into me. I didn't want to believe it. But I had no choice.\n\nI remember dropping to my knees and wrapping my arms around my family. My wife grabbed my arm, kissed my hand, and buried her tear soaked face into my elbow. I kissed her on the back of her head.\n\nThen my daughter looked up at me and said \"Daddy, why is mommy crying?\".\n\nSee, my she didn't know what was going on. She was born on Mars. This was all she knew. She didn't understand that the vast majority of humanity had just been destroyed. 10 billion people wiped out in the blink of an eye. \n\n\"A lot of people that mommy and daddy knew just got hurt really bad\"\n\n\"Can't you kiss it and make it better? Like you do with me when I scraped my knee?\"\n\nI struggled for a second to find the words.\n\n\"Sometimes... sometimes honey... people get hurt... and they don't get better.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nI remember we sat there for a while, I don't know how long, and just held each other.\n\nI think the worst part of all of it was the fact that I never had the chance to make my peace with my parents. I was part of the initial landing in 2020. My family hated me for it, saying that I was abandoning them. I tried convincing them that what I was doing was for the good of humanity, but they would have none of it, told me it was a fool's errand and a suicide mission. My brother told me they held a funeral for me the week before our launch and that mom and dad had written me off for dead. I tried sending them a few messages in the years shortly after landing, but they refused to read them. I'd be lying if I said i didn't harbor resentment about that for for a while.\n\nSometimes I still find myself going outside at night and looking out, trying to find that bright blue dot that I used to call home. But I always find that that meteor put a hole in more just the sky that day. It put a hole in my heart too." ]	14
	[WP] First day back at school from a fed up teachers point of view.	[ "Four o'clock comes quickly, much more quickly than he had hoped. Will had spent the majority of the night preparing for the first day. The students would do little more than basic tests to gauge where they were at the start of this year, but he liked to plan ahead. It was always good to be prepared. His wife slept soundly in bed, tucked deep in the covers that she took for herself. He hadn't been there to tussle with her over his three feet of sheets. Tiptoeing down the hall as he closed the bedroom door behind him, Will crept by his the bedrooms of his children and down the stairs. His doting wife had thoughtfully prepared his clothes ahead of time to save them both the early morning trouble and placed them outside the bathroom door.\n\nHurriedly, the groggy man showered and shaved, accidentally nicking himself in the process. With a small tissue square placed firmly on the offending spot near his chin, Will dressed and walked into the kitchen. The clock showed ten til five, a time that baffled the careful teacher. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and set it down next to the coffee pot only to find that he had forgotten to start it when he passed by. Frustrated and stressed, he grabbed his briefcase that waited near the door closing the door behind him with a slightly more forceful slam that he had meant to. Before his family woke to throw something out the window at the man, he quickly pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the school.\n\nSix o'clock comes to pass as he enters the lounge. Equally tired, frustrated, and stressed teachers gather around the table in their small room. New faces stand out among the old. Their bright, wide eyes containing fear and excitement as though they might lift off from their seat at any moment. He pitied them. These children were hardly children anymore. They were monsters. Their approach was signaled by loud alarms that rang throughout the building, piercing his eardrums as he sipped his scalding coffee. The dark, horrible tasting brew threatening to spill upon his shirt. He learned to tuck a handkerchief firmly under his collar around the third year. The first few days were always the worst on the nerves.\n\nA stampede of these cretins proceeded down the hallways. They spoke loudly, boisterously, over the alarm. Their combined noise was almost deafening. Will found that his hearing suffered a little more each year. The herd split into factions, each fighting amongst themselves over differing ideals. Less adjusted teachers stepped outside the safety of their classroom into enemy territory, demanding that they calm down. A bold move. They are quickly stripped of their authority and pride by the sharp fangs of the young ones. Their venomous bite breaks the skin and seeps into the soul. There is no antivenom for this bite and no resistance that one can build. Even for someone with over two decades under his belt, it still stings. He had a bar of chocolate in his bag for occasions like that. Will made a mental note on an already full board to share some during lunch. There was no doubt in his mind that it'd be appreciated.\n\nEight o'clock rang in as the students dragged themselves through the doorway. Their sneakers and heels like claws scraping against the floor. He was unfazed by this. It was the same every year, in fact, he often felt the same himself. With reluctance, he picked up a dry erase marker and scrawled his name upon the board in large letters that were impossible to misread. Clearing his throat, he addressed the class in his clearest, loudest, and most authoritative tone.\n\n“Greeting class, as you may have noticed, I am Mr. Merrick and today we're going to begin a course on American History. If you would, please look through the papers on your desk. I'll be expecting them by the bell. You have twenty minutes. Good luck,” he said before sitting back down at his desk and sipping coffee while thumbing through an old newspaper.\n\n-245", "O god, here we go for another year with these rabid assholes and their god damn fucking inbred parents who think their progeny is fucking gifted when the truth is he couldn't find his ass with a road map. AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE ADMINISTRATION!\n\nMy smallest class is 26 and my largest is 32. How the hell am I supposed to teach writing skills to 32 spoiled narcissistic shit heads who don't give a rat's ass about anything that is not themselves??? I'm sick of reading their drivel. I'm tired of them stinking up my classroom. They make more noise than an airbus. If I make it 'til Thanksgiving without killing one of them, it'll be a miracle. O god, where's the porto??? I need a drink!", "7:00 am\nI sit here in the morning sun, staring across the asphalt at It. The monster that, yet again, will try to devour my soul. That has devoured countless of my cohorts. There they go. You can recognize them by their shuffling gate. The way that they don't seem to really notice anything around them. They have given up. They've cut whatever ties they had held to their minds from before. Before the standards changed for the third time in four years. Before woodshop, band, home ec, and computer science were combined into one class. Before they said we could 'make do' with 20 desks per classroom, when the average class is 25. They're the lucky ones. They have stopped resisting. I can't, though. I won't. Not this year. Joseph Pants High School will not break me. Oh no. I will break it.\n\n3:15pm\nFuck this school. Fuck these kids. I need a beer.", "The leaves are beginning to change and the air is getting cooler. Gray clouds fill the sky and the air is breezy. People are looking forward to wearing scarves and carving pumpkins and sipping hot chocolate. Except me, fuck fall. This is absolutely the worst time of the year. I will be surrounded by spoiled little asshole and even more annoying parents. \n\nI entered the classroom and sat down at my desk. As I took supplies out of my bag the bell sounded, students entered the classroom. My head was pounding and my stomach was churning, perhaps last call was a bad idea. Placing my palm up to my face, I checked my breath. Wintergreen chewing gum is my hero of the day. \n\nAfter all the desks were filled I approached the whiteboard and scribbled my name. Sure, that looks legible to me. Slinking back into my chair, my words were still slightly slurred as I introduced myself to the class. Damn, what is wrong with some of these parents? Roll call is the worst. So many horrible names, so many misspelled names. I squinted as I tried to read the names, half of which sounded like horribly pronounced questions.\n\nThe day dragged on, period after period I anticipated the three o'clock bell. Finally, it rang. As soon as these little shits file out, I can get the fuck out of here. \n\nToo many days stand in between me and next summer." ]	4
	[WP] Wizardry is as common and as professional as businessmen in todays society. write about every day life	[ "What a lot of people don't realize is the amount of paperwork that goes into magic.\n\nThey want a show - they want sparklers and lights and wind sweeping through the room on its way to bringing them stacks of cash. They want the love of their life in the palm of their hands with hearts floating up and if it's no hearts it's no go. Money back - which is, of course, more paperwork.\n\nI swear - the tiny shop I run under the Red Line station on State Street is 90% files in the back office. The front 10% is full of way too much carpets, fake ravens, top hats - the whole kit and kaboodle. People pay for the ambience - that's what my marketing professor taught me. Well - at least the carpets help with the cold in the winter. Giant windows have a way of letting things seep through.\n\nThe bureaucracy is a blessing and a curse. You have to have a knack for forms and paper (after all, magic has this weird effect on computers so it has to be totally analog) - and for magic. So there's never that much competition. Craig runs a shop in Hyde Park and Derrick Enoch runs the spot for Evanston but I'm the only downtown guy around. The bad news is that it turns away a lot of the potential customers who might have asked for a new car or death or something if they didn't have to fill out 2 forms in triplicate acknowledging violation of the laws of the Universe, 3 forms of identification, 1 NDA (can't have any unlicensed Wizards trying to act out what they learned watching me revive a dog that met the wrong end of a tractor trailer) - not to mention forms for each step in the spell.\n\nAll that is to say, by the time I get to the office, there's still a line all the way to Garrett's. Sometimes people will bring me popcorn - the regulars do. I like them. They're nice folks. Not all of them are good, but damned if they don't try. Sometimes it's just hard. You need a helping hand or wand or spell or something. \n\nLike this guy, Jerry - window washer at the Tribune. It's this incredibly old building and one of the rigs wasn't properly secured so this giant piece of stone flew down - knocked his head clear off.\n\nSo every couple of weeks he's back to get touch-ups and revivals. Plus he needs this potion to keep him from going full Zombie on us (and lord knows we don't need another plague like in 2011 - it was awful - having to un-reanimate them in the middle of the blizzard). I mean the potion is a bitch to make - and so many steps and so many ingredients and it costs an arm and a leg - arm figurative, leg literal. But he brings me popcorn so it's pretty worth it.\n\nAfter all, it's nigh impossible to get out of the office. I mean the poor secretary - I can't even keep them straight since they keep quitting on me - works herself to death. I think this one is Julie? I'm not really sure. But she gets frazzled so easily. Usually the people who come to me are desperate so they can't deal with someone not on their A Game and that's rarely any of the secretaries. One gave me a sandwich stuffed with Newt Fingers in it. Wasn't the worst thing I've had but definitely did not sit well for a few days. \n\nStill - they're sweet and they try ever so hard. And every now and then - in spite of the paperwork - and the disappointment - and the long hours - and the irate people - you get something really great. \n\nYou find someone who came to you - too shy to ask someone out - and all they need is a little boost of confidence - and they come back a few weeks later, holding someone else's hand.\n\nOr the baby who takes their first step on their new leg.\n\nOr the girl who lost her mother too soon - who gets to see her again on her wedding day.\n\nThose moments - that's what makes being a wizard magical.", "The front door to Wizrow's Wands opened with a ring as Wizrow looked up from his desk with his best customer service smile and said, \"Welcome to Wizrow's Wands, where if there isn't a way there's a wa--\"\n\n\n\"Can it, Wizrow!\" he was cut off with as a man stormed into the shop waving around a piece of paper.\nWizrow braced himself for the worst and made sure his security wand was still under the desk as the piece of paper the young man had was slammed on top of his desk.\n\n\n\"Do you know what this is?\" He asked, clearly ready to cut him off again, but Wizrow answered.\n\"Paper by the looks of it. Were you looking to have it transfor--\"\n\"I meant what's on it!\"\n\nWizrow looked down, barely able to make out any of the words past a bundle of irate fingers. \"Well right now it's your hand, and I'm afraid I can't do any magic on flesh as you can see by the sign outsid--\"\n\n\n\"Don't you get smart with me! Read it!\" This time he took his hand away, and Wizrow got a look at the upside down sheet. He squinted at it for a moment before tapping the paper at its edge, making the words flip so he could actually understand it. After looking over it for a second it looked like it was a sheet of prices and recommendations with the names of other neighboring magic shops.\n\n\"The prices of the competition? I'm not sure what you want me to do with this.\"\n\"It's called price matching, duh.\" he explained before holding up a wand, \"I bought this from you last week and Archibald's Arcanes has it for fifty dollars less!\"\n\n\n\"That sounds like a pretty good deal!\" Wizrow wrote this down for later reference.\n\"It is, so I want my money back from you so I can go buy it.\"\n\"Ah I'm sorry,\" Wizrow still had his smile up as he waved a hand, \"here at the shop we only produce refunds on transformed livestock, furniture, and toiletry with proof of a receipt. But if you want you could trade in the wand for a percentage back.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure you heard me when I said 'price matching' did you?\" He tapped the paper on the desk again as if that would make the point any clearer.\n\"I heard you sir, this is why I explained our refund policy, you can also see it on the back of your receipt.\"\n\"Yeah well that's great but I went through all the trouble of price matching this!\"\n\n\n\"And I certainly appreciate your assistance in price comparisons, sir. Could I keep this paper?\"\nThe angry man quickly snatched it off the desk. \"No, it's my paper! And I've got half a mind to break your stupid wand!\"\n\n\"I'm afraid you can't trade it in if that's the case.\"\n\"Arrgh!\" He yelled, which was one of the first instances Wizrow had encountered where someone had actually done this. The man balled up his paper and tossed it on the shop floor, giving Wizrow a glare before storming out, wand in hand.\n\n\nWizrow waited a moment to see if he would return before pointing his own wand at the ball on the ground and slowly floating it over to his desk to unravel. \n\"Hm, I may have to see where Archibald gets his stock.\" ", "The wizened old man peered down his knobbly nose at the piece of paper set on the only clear area on his desk. \"So, Madame Delacourte, I must admit, I am very impressed with your resume,\" he said, fingers combing his long beard. He stopped as he discovered a small mouse that had become trapped in the long white hair at some point, and carefully untangled the small creature without looking away from the young woman sitting across from him.\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" said the stocky young woman. She wearing a dress suit that slowly shifted colors, with buttons that glowed like small stars.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said the old man as he finally freed the mouse from his beard. \"Why should Merlinex hire you? What sets you apart from other applicants?\"\n\nStacey Delacourte stayed smiling as Archibald Magnifus tossed the small mouse towards the cage in the corner of the room. As quick as lightning, a long tongue speared out from the toad-like creature sitting inside, and the mouse vanished. The toad-thing let out a satisfied belch. \"Well, as you can see from my resume, I graduated from Harvard magna cum laude with a degree in arcane sciences, and I spent a few years after graduation apprenticing to freelance sorcerers, and I can produce a recommendation letter from Madame Le Fay, Master Crowley, and Master Gates, if necessary. I've also volunteered with People for the Ethical Treatment of Dragons, the Centaur's Alliance, and spent six months learning herbalism from a Somali witchdoctor. I have experience with numerous arcane disciplines, and I believe that my wide breadth of knowledge will be a boon to Merlinex.\"\n\nArchibald Magnifus hummed in thought. \"Where do you see yourself in five years?\" he asked.\n\nStacey closed her eyes, and let out a slow breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with a pure white light that forced Archibald to avert his eyes. Stacey's mouth moved in ways that the human mouth was not built for as she spoke in arcane tongues that shook the windows with their volume. Archibald's beard began to rise as if there was a static charge in the room, and he waited for her to finish her divination.\n\nAt last, the light faded, and Archibald's beard returned to its former position. \"I see myself asking that same question to a promising young wizard who wants the position that I'm interviewing for right now, sir,\" she reported.\n\n\"Very good,\" Archibald smiled. \"Welcome aboard.\"\n\n--\n\nCheck out my [blog](http://theballadsofirving.com)! It has words that I put in order to make them look like a story!", "My name is Merlin, and I hate my job.\n\nI hate the cramped cubicles. I hate my coworkers. I hate the poor excuse for coffee that they serve here. And I hate, above all else, the corporate bureaucracy.\n\nLet me tell you a quick story, to help you understand that last bit.\n\nThis happened yesterday, by the way.\n\nSo I’m sitting at my desk, throwing ingredients into my cauldron. All is going well. I’m supposed to whip up a love potion, and demonstrate it at the meeting later today. It’s coming along nicely. Smells like fresh satin panties.\n\nBut Rogart, being the boogerface that he is, thinks it’d be funny to mess with me. So from the cubicle next to me, where he sits, he lobs a dried goat turd over the wall and straight into my cauldron.\n\nNow I’m already pretty pissed off at this point. But hold on – it only gets worse. Corporate bureaucracy, remember?\n\nAnyways.\n\nMagical ingredients are really fickle. You put in the wrong amount of anything, and things can go real bad, real fast. Recall that Rogart threw in a goat turd, something that wasn’t even on the list of ingredients to begin with.\n\nNeedless to say, the result is catastrophic. My cauldron explodes in my face, and my desk is blown to pieces. The walls of the cubicle are fine because they’ve been enchanted to withstand stuff like this.\n\nSo there I am, lying on the ground, ribs broken and legs folded flat under me. And blood, my blood, is everywhere.\n\nAlarm goes off since someone on the floor reported an explosion. Less than a minute later, someone from the Emergency Response Team arrives on the scene.\n\nNow get this. Instead of showing any concern for me, the guy who’s lying on the floor, dying, the dude goes, “Oh my God! There’s so much blood anywhere. This is so totally a health hazard. Gotta get someone from Sanitation, stat!”\n\nI manage to stretch my arm far enough to reach his leg, and I tug gently on the hem of his robe. He looks at me. “Sir… sir, I’m dying. Please, help me…”\n\nHe shakes his head. “Oh, I’m sorry sir. I can’t help you with that, you’ll need to get someone down from the Medical Department. Separation of duties, ya know? Can’t have one person doing – or even knowing how to do – everything, or you risk a rogue ruining it for everyone.”\n\nYou’ve gotta be kidding me.\n\n“I’ll contact them for you, sir.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of parchment. The magical kind, the kind that worked just like those tablet thingies non-wizards use these days.\n\n“Uhhh let’s see… There’s a bit of a queue, so they won’t be able to get to you until about… two hours from now? Is that okay, sir?”\n\nNo. No, that's not okay, not okay at all.\n\n“Aaaaand look at the time. I need to be going now, got another call to get to. You can expect Sanitation to be here in a few. Have a great day, sir!” And with that, he leaves.\n\nI’m coughing up blood now. I look up. “Please…”\n\nSuddenly, a face appears and looms over me. It’s Perkins, who works a few rows over. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend in this company.\n\n“P-perkins,” I manage. “I’m dying. Please… help me…”\n\nHe adjusts his glasses and wipes his hands on his robe.\n\n“You’ll owe me donuts for this.”\n\nI nod feverishly. “Yes, yes, just… save me, please.”\n\nHe whips out his wand and waves it a couple of times. I feel the wounds patch up, the bones begin to mend. The pain starts to go away.\n\nAnd just like that, I’m fine.\n\nI get up and grab Perkins’s hand. “Thank you so much. Thank you so, so much.”\n\nHe smiles. “Remember. Donuts. Tomorrow.”\n\nI nod and he turns to leave. Out of nowhere, though, our manager appears.\n\nHe looks absolutely terrifying.\n\n“What is this?” he demands. “Usage of magic for something non-work related?” He holds out a finger and points it directly at Perkin’s face.\n\n“Perkins! You’re fired.”\n\nAnd just like that, Perkins was fired, for saving my life.\n\n...\n\nAnyways, I’m sitting at my desk again now, and I’ve gotten a new cauldron. At least the Operations Management in this company is legit. That being said, the cauldron isn’t working, and I’ve unplugged it for now. Called the Potion Technology guys, they’ll be here at any moment now.\n\n“Good afternoon, Mr. Merlin. I’m Tiribas from PT. You said your new cauldron isn’t working properly?”\n\n“Yeah. It was all set up and ready to go when I got here. But when I flipped the switch, nothing happened. So now you’re here.”\n\n“I see.”\n\nHe’s going over to the cauldron now, and is about to turn it on.\n\n“Oh yeah, by the way. I unplugged it after I flipped the power back off, just to be safe.”\n\nHe’s pausing. Why is he pausing?\n\nWait. Don’t tell me…\n\n“Well, you gotta get a guy from Utilities down here to plug it in, then. I can’t touch anything that’s not directly related to cauldrons.”\n\n“You can’t just like, look away for a moment while I plug it in?”\n\n“Nope, can’t. Sorry. I’ve already seen it.”\n\n“I shouldn’t have called you.” I glare at him.\n\n“If you say so, sir. I’m just following procedures.”\n\n“How long until someone from Utilities is available?”\n\nHe checks his magical parchment. “Two days,” he replies.\n\nRogart's leaning back in his chair, around the corner of the cubicle, and is laughing at me.\n\nAight.\n\nI’m done.\n\nI’m quitting this place tomorrow. \n" ]	4
	[WP] One day out of a blue, a message is broadcast on every form of electronic media from an unknown source. Everyone perceives it as their own language, but you're bilingual. And you're hearing two vastly different messages.	[ "\"Mr. President, I feel I should warn you-\"\n\n\"Please, be quiet! IS ANYONE RECORDING THIS?\"\n\nPresident James Relnson was a staunch, unfeeling Republican who spoke seriously, listened seriously, and never smiled in public. Knowing this, Kyoung-Min Jeong was understandably unnerved to watch him whistling around the room like a schoolchild. James poked the Secretary of Defense and slung his arm around her shoulder, but then wasted no time in crossing the stairs by threes on his way to the Oval Office. It was exhausting both to watch and to keep up.\n\nKyoung made a last ditch effort to cut off the President at the door to his office. He failed. President Relnson slammed the door behind him, and the translator was left in the hallway with two Secret Service agents.\n\n\"You got your ID?\"\n\nKyoung cursed in his native tongue. \"I must have left it in the conference room.\"\n\n\"Well, you're gonna have to go get it. Sorry.\"\n\n\"No, you don't understand. I need to speak with the President about this broadcast.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, get in line,\" said the second guard. \"Have you seen the crowd out past the lawn? I tell you, this is going to be a security nightmare.\"\n\n\"Ah, suck it up Bill.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, please! This is extremely important!\"\n\n\"What's all the racket?\" The President had opened the door again. \"Ah! Mr. Jeong! We'll have to continue our talks with the South Korean President another time. Please give her my condolences when the communication lines open up-\"\n\n\"Sir, I need to speak with you about the broadcast!\"\n\nPresident Relnson fidgeted, eager to get back to his personal television. Kyoung vaguely took note that this was the first time he had seen the President do anything other than stay still or walk slowly. It gave him a headache, and the sound of the broadcast from every comms unit and cell phone in the building only made it worse.\n\n\"Sir, please let me come inside. This is urgent.\"\n\n\"Oh, alright!\" James clapped his hand on Kyoung's shoulder and pulled him in. \"Perhaps you could help me with my speech in a moment. What do you want?\"\n\nThe door closed behind them, and the translator took a deep breath. Then the President interrupted him.\n\n\"Alien life is here. And during MY administration!\" President Relnson shook his head and grinned. \"They said they're going to share their technology, their...\"\n\n\"Sir, that's not what they're saying!\" Kyoung was barely able to keep himself from yelling. His fists were clenched and pale at the knuckles.\n\n\"What? Can't you hear them?\" James pointed at the TV. \n\n\"You're hearing the aliens speak in English. I can hear them speak in English and in Korean.\"\n\n\"Fascinating!\"\n\n\"NO!\" The smile slipped from President Relnson's face. \"Listen to what they're saying now!\"\n\nKyoung turned to the TV. The English message had long since started from the beginning; a voice spoke calmly about sharing mutual knowledge and technology. The translator focused himself, and began to translate the other broadcast, which hadn't yet ended.\n\n\"The people of Nigeria shall not be spared. The people of Niue shall not be spared. The people of Norfolk Island will not be spared. The people of North Korea will be spared. The people of Northern Cyprus will not be spared. The people of the Northern Mariana Islands will not be spared. The people of Norway will not be spared...", "Looking back, I wish I wasn't the one of the people who pushed it, hadn't pointed it out, I could have saved so many lives.\n\nOn what came to known as judgement day, every man, woman, and child received a broadcast via electronic device telling them \"GOD IS GREAT, SHOW ME HUMANITIES FAITH\" before deleting itself.\n\nAt first, people thought this was a weird hack or glitch, social marketing data gone wrong, as the message was written in the language of the reader, no matter what language the device was set too, but then came the testimonials from people like me: Bilinguals.\n\nWe had an... experience. See, most people simply read it, but because we knew two languages, we not only did not see characters we recognized, but the feedback loop of reading it in two languages forced us to consume the intent of the message.\n\n I-its hard to describe, but as we heard \"god is great\" we... we 'saw' GOD, a being so utterly beyond description that no words are of use, as how does one describe a being that we strained to even perceive as a being, as \"being\" feels too weak and petty and powerless to ever come even within the same galaxy of definition. we were consumed and enveloped by his greatness... a couple of us I'm told didn't survive.\n\n\"Show me humanities faith\"...\n our interpretation of these words will likely never be forgotten until humanity eventually succumbs to it's own ignorance and wipes itself out in GOD's name. Those of us who listened knew immediately and without a doubt what GOD meant by these words; GOD wanted all the non-believers culled, all believers tempered to fanaticism by their cause not a soul in between.\n\nIn the oncoming weeks, the message had made it on to creepypasta pages and top 10 creepiest youtube videos, but slowly over the next couple months, people like me; bilinguals who had \"experienced\" the message, had joined together to generate what started as a cult.\n\n Now I didn't join the cult, but I DID defend their message. People would talk to me about the message and about the cult, most likely adding \"but you can read English and French, and you didn't have this experience, so it's debunked, right?\" to which I would have to reply with the truth.\n\nIt started out with just friends and family, but slowly moved into news sites and politicians as the cult pushed further and further and people slowly realized that there were no bilinguals who didn't 'receive' this message, as after one has perceived GODS greatness, it becomes nigh impossible to deny it, and then as it became generally accepted as word of god, slowly, quietly, patiently, the culling began.\n\nIt started with the murderers.\n\nMysterious individuals who just quietly dispatched atheists until it became extremely dangerous to even claim the title. Then news sites quietly went from talking about the horribleness of the murders to the absurdity of the victims belief.\n\n After about a year of this, the remainders quietly attempted to meld themselves into the society of believers, and it was there that they discovered the murderers had all banded together to form a terrifying hybrid of the KKK and Inquisition. Nowadays, it's assumed that \"Athiesm is dead\", and the zealots have started turning their gaze to the zealots of \"other gods\". It's started looking like within the year nukes are going to fly.\n\nI'm sorry...\n\nI'm so sorry...", "I didn't have my phone with me at first. It was odd, I was almost always glued to that thing. Instead I was lounging about eating some chips. University was out and I wanted some relaxation before spending all night working on my feet. If it wasn't for the interruption I may have dozed off and been late to my job. Though I wonder if that would have been better. \n\nThe screen flicked to a simple blue. A low buzz nestled into my ear. I sat up with a look of bewilderment. A small noise escaped my mouth but I really have no idea what I was trying to say. Words started scrolling across the screen accompanied by a voice. It was hoarse and dry. Whoever was talking was having trouble, not with the language but just speaking. It was like they had been stranded in the desert, parched and hoarse. To top it all of there was some weird filter and a reverb. Something must have gone wrong with the broadcast. I was too busy wondering what was wrong that I didn't even listen to the message. It cycled to what I assume was Mandarin and then onto German. It kept cycling through more languages until it came to Spanish. I grew up with a Mexican mother and father. They made sure I could speak English and Spanish. \n\n\"¿Cuando sale el sol, que entre ustedes se viven? Todo el mundo está contra ti. Tiempo se detiene.\" I turned my head in confusement. It was such a strange thing, what could that have to do with anything. Was the TV on the fritz? \n\"When the Sun goes out, who among you will live? Everyone is against you. Time is ticking.\" I repeated aloud. I couldn't figure it out. I patted my pockets for me phone. \"Oh right it's in my room.\" I got up from the couch and opened my bedroom door just as I heard the missed call tone. The screen faded to black as I picked it up and with a swipe roared back to life. '1 missed call. 1 new video' The call was from my friend John but there was no number attached to the video. As I started the playback the same blue screen appeared. This time I listened to the English part. \"Be calm, if you react they will kill you. The sun is setting.\" \n\"What the hell?\" It was getting weirder and weirder. I quickly redialed John. It didn't ring twice before he picked up. \n\"You're seeing this right?\" He said. There was coldness in his voice and he was nervous. I don't think I ever heard him nervous before. \n\"Yeah what's going on with that weird message? Did you send it to me?\" I asked. For a second I thought he hung up. There was just silence on his end. \n\"Cam, look the fuck outside, what do you see?\" I peeked out my bedroom window. Clouds were swirling like a tornado overhead. There were multiple funnels and storm cells. I couldn't remember seeing a cloud while I was at school. \n\"What the hell is going on?\" I asked again as I walked back into my front room. \n\"Did you see the message in Spanish? What did it say?\" He was more nervous with each second passing. It was contagious. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up and I felt like something was creeping up on me. \n\"When the Sun goes out, who among you will live? Everyone is against you. Time is ticking. That's what it said in Spanish.\" Fuck is all he replied. \n\nI pulled the blinds up on my front window. People were in the streets going nuts. The funnels continued to swirl above. Wind whipped through the trees. I was convinced any second the tornadoes would touch down. Instead they vanished in an instant. A black shape pierced the clouds. There were hundreds. \"It says there will be blood if you can not atone in German. In Portuguese it says, 'Those who are not worthy deserve their fate. Prove yourself worthy.'\" John said. I choked out another noise. \n\"You speak french too right?\" I asked preparing for another creepy and cryptic message. \n\"The first to perish have no place. The last shall be reborn.\" He said. \n\"John what the fuck is happening?\" I said still looking at the chaos outside. The black objects started emitting a red light from the center. \n\"I don't know but there was just Sumerian on the screen Cam.\" His voiced trailed off. Studying ancient languages was a hobby for John but he was never the best at getting around to understanding them. \n\"Could you read it?\" \n\"Enough...\" He said through tears. \"I got 'God is reaping. You failed.'\"\n", "Grant sat at his desk, staring at his computer monitor. He started clicking around the screen, then hitting some buttons on his keyboard, but the message that had popped up on his screen would not go away. \n\nHis phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it as he used the phone on his desk to call the IT department. It took a few minutes before he got through, but as long as his computer was locked up he couldn't do anything anyways. \n\n\"Hey, IT, if it's about a message popping up on your screen that you can't get rid of it, we're working on it.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Grant replied, slightly taken aback by the sudden answer, \"That's exactly why I'm calling.\" \n\n\"Yeah, everyone's having it. Check your cell, I bet the same message is on there, too.\" \n\nGrant pulled out his phone, and saw the message on the tiny screen.\n\n\"How did you know that?\" Grant asked, trying but failing to mask his amazement.\n\n\"I said everyone's having it. When I said everyone, I mean everyone. It's not just here, not just in this city. It's all across the world, in all languages.\" \n\n\"In all languages? Mine's only in two, English and Spanish...\"\n\n\"What? Yours is in two languages? Everyone else I've talked to only has it in English. Other places are only showing it in one language, it's just translated. ...are you bilingual?\" \n\n\"Yeah, fairly. I spent a few years in Spain, so I picked up a lot.\"\n\n\"So is the second part the same thing? Just repeated? Or is it some kind of special message for bilingual people?\" \n\nGrant looked at his monitor again, and translated the second half in his head. It had been a while, and he wasn't 100% sure he had it right, but it definitely wasn't the same message. \n\n\"Well,\" Grant said after translating, \"They're definitely different...\"\n\n\"So what do they say?\"\n\nGrant looked once more at his monitor.\n\n>IS YOUR REFRIGERATOR RUNNING?\n\nAnd below that (translated from Spanish):\n\n>THANKS FOR THE JOKE IDEAS, JUST PLAY ALONG. -KING FELIPE VI", "Mankind was doomed from the start. Doomed to die. Each of us walked the streets with a clock ticking down, its proverbial clicking waiting to sweep us into its dark swells of nothingness. It was the cornerstone to our motivation. It removed the vile and martyred the hopeful. I used to be like you, wishing that I knew when my clock might stop ticking so that I might live my life to its fullest. So that I may understand how much time is remaining, and act accordingly. Check every mark off my bucket list before it’s too late. \n \nBut I was wrong. Horribly, wrong. Our illusions of immortality were what kept society moving. It kept people rational, logical. When faced with the fact of death, no matter how painless or strung out, people seem to change. Something in them is different, they are tainted forever to the core. They wallow in their own helplessness, in the inevitability of life. Or they do something else. They go mad. Insane. Something inside them completely snaps because of this new found knowledge of inevitable pestilence. Their sense of humanity ruptures like a heart pierced by a dark bullet, and they react selfishly out of fear. It takes hold, strangles them. Contorting any sense of reasonability they might have had. \n \nThat is what was blared through the devices that day. The clock, ticking down with each passing moment. For the world to hear. Each individual capable of knowing when they would die, and how they would die. It repeated, it continues to repeat. Forever repeating. It’s been three years, and I’m still here. But I doubt there are others. It wasn’t the messages that destroyed us; we destroyed us.\nI was with my mother when it happened. She, a very traditional woman of Chinese descent, scoffed at the blaring. She assured me it was just some pranksters or a drill by the government. She assured me no nation in the modern world was dumb enough to attempt an attack on a country as powerful as ours. I was confused and afraid back then, when it happened. My ears filling with contradicting messages. \n \n“ALERT! ALERT! AMERICAN NUCLEAR THREAT IMMINENT IN YOUR AREA! ALERT! ALERT! EVACUATE NOW!” Screamed out of the phones and television. It (And Still does) sent chills through my body as it repeated over and over. \n \nBut there was something else, something I could barely understand, but undoubtedly there. I took English classes during school, and though I wasn’t the best student, it was enough to allow me to understand. \n \n“ALERT! ALERT! CHINESE NUCLEAR THREAT IMMENENT IN YOUR AREA! ALERT! ALERT! EVACUATE NOW!” \n \nI didn’t understand. I was hearing two very distinct messages in two different languages. It was as though the words were in both Chinese and English. I told my mother, but she refused to believe me and said it would all blow over. She may have saved my life, not listening to the messages was the only way I have survived this long. \n \nAs you can imagine, the message(s) created mass hysteria. The message(s) seemed to trump all broadcasts and connections. Nothing with a speaker or a screen worked anymore. Instead it was replaced by the constant repeating message(s). It doesn’t matter whether the piece of technology is powered on or not, the message is still broadcast through it. I watched from my small apartment in Hong Kong as millions attempted to evacuate in a situation where no authority could make a statement. The message(s) are so loud, they consumed the city that night and still do to this day. \n \nNot knowing what to do, they attacked. Nations launched their war heads. What else where they supposed to do? This curse spun the world into confusion, it prevented all communication between nations. When pushed into a corner, any animal will fight till its last breath. It will do whatever is required to survive. The governments of the world had plans for situations like this, they already had everything mapped out a millions time over. Communication or not, destroying the world? Easy. They just needed a reason, and now they had one. I can only assume they targeted their largest threats and went down the list until they either ran out of missiles or had no more land mass to fire upon. I was lucky enough to be living in Hong Kong, a city that was liked by many countries and therefore sparing it from direct nuking, but not from the effects. I watched as the bombs dropped. I could hear and see their massive explosions lighting up the coast line like mini-holocausts striking the world with flashes of death. I will undoubtedly die of cancer soon, just as so many others before me have.\nAfter the first explosion was visible, my mother began to take things more seriously. She rushed me into the basement of the large apartment building we lived in. There were others, they appeared just as terrified as us. Most of the people in my apartment complex had already left when the message(s) first played. \n \nThey all died. Shortly after the bombs were dropped sores began forming all over everyone’s bodies, covering even their faces. It was disgusting. The screams of pain and terror caused by the tumors and sores still haunt me to this day. It is the only sound I have encountered thus far that has drowned out the message(s). My mother, being very old, was one of the first to go. I could barely understand the pain of losing my mother, not to mention the world. \n \nPeople went mad. They ran into the streets and attacked without mercy. They were covered in sores, tumors, doomed to die and they knew it. Rape, murder, torture. I saw it all in these past three years. But these man made monsters slowly disappeared just as they were destined to. I have survived only by hiding, always hiding. \n \nThe lights appear to be increasing with each passing month. I have given up counting their numbers; they are more numerous now than the many stars that once lit up the brilliant dark sky. I don’t know why I am writing in this journal anymore. I will be dead soon, my sores from the bombs are getting fatal, I can tell. There is a tumor growing between my eyes, it will push me into darkness. I will be left in this city of corpses alone. My only friend will be the repeating, echoing, message(s), spewing fatal lies still to this day. I hope to die before that happens. \n \n", "\"Zulak!\"\n\nThe boss kicked the door open. Literally.\n\nThink about this – this is a government agency. Kicking a door open in any working environment is a big deal, let \nalone at the ICI. Things were not going well.\n\n\"Yes, sir?\" Zulak replied, getting up and straightening his back like a soldier ready for an order.\n\n\"Bilinguals, Zulak! Bilinguals! You ever heard of them!?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" Zulak responded, trying not to let his sweat and shaking give away how nervous the boss made him. \"Are they from the Milky Wa –\"\n\n\"They are humans who speak more than one language!\" the boss yelled. Everyone was up around the office – \nseven thousand pairs of eyes on Zulak.\n\n(Author's note – Zulak is an Adonian, a species from the Sombrero Galaxy Dust Lane which actually has five \nhundred eyes, so that ICI room is not as crowded as it seems. Still. Moving on.)\n\n\"Sir, I know humans speak more than one language,\" Zulak tried, his voice shaking on every word. \"That was what \nwas in the root of my plan. We sent them me –\"\n\n\"Individual humans who speak more than one language,\" the boss replied. \"Forty fucking three percent of them.\"\n\nZulak's eyes went wide. \"Individuals? They learn more than one language? Why? Why would they –\"\n\n\"TO FUCK ME IN BOTH MY ASSHOLES, THAT'S WHY!\"\n\n(Author's note -- … well, you get it.)\n\n\"So they –\"\n\n\"Yes, they instantly realized that the messages were different according to each specific reader, because BLOODY\nHALF OF THEM READ TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MESSAGES.\"\n\n\"And they –\"\n\n\"—know we sent the messages to put them against each other and incite the civil war so we can attack them, which \nwas YOUR MOTHERFU –\"\n\nThe boss paused, taking a deep breath. He ran his hand through his head, getting himself together.\n\n\"Shit,\" Zulak said, falling back on his chair. He had just been appointed head Lead Military Adviser of the \nIntergalactic Center of Intelligence, and now –\n\n\"—you made the biggest mistake of your life,\" the boss completed his thoughts. \"This is going to cost you.\"\n\n\"My job?\" Zulak asked, nervous.\n\n\"Your life! All of our lives! The idiots are definitely going to strike us after this!\"\n\n Zulak paused, scrutinizing the boss' faces. Could he not know?\n\n\"Sir… humans haven't mastered interstellar travel yet.\"\n\nThe boss raised his eyes. \"What?\"\n\n\"Even if they know of our intentions, there's pretty much nothing they can do.\"\n\nThe boss' face lit up. \"Really?\"\n\n\"They've barely reached the furthest planet in their solar system,\" Zulak replied. \"And that was an unmanned mission.\"\n\nThe boss' expression softened, and he even managed a smile. \"Thank God. Oh, man. Still, Zulak,\" he said, \nturning a mean eye the adviser's way. \"Don't pull shit like that again. Do your research before you act, damn it.\"\n\n\"Absolutely, sir. I'm very sorry.\" Zulak got up again. \"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Zulak said. \"Go get me some aspirin. And a drink.\"\n\nZulak lowered his head, and the boss left the office.\n\n________________________\n\nBack on Earth, fifty-seven percent of the population was rioting and burning cities, sure that they were being \nbullshitted by the forty-three percent saying their phone messages were saying different things according to who \nwas reading.\n\n(Author's note -- humans are a species from the Milky Way with two eyes, one asshole and crippling trust issues)\n\nThe president declared martial law.\n\n___________________\n\nThanks for reading! For more stories on aliens being stupid and other stuff, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)" ]	6
	[WP] Start writing a story, then part of the way through, add an elephant to it.	[ "I was sick of the waiting. Sitting on a plastic chair, the heat of Saigon dripping down my back and calf muscles, waiting for my goddamn mail. I was in a hotbox of chattering Vietnamese paper-shufflers who pretended not to notice me sitting in a corner beside the only window in the place.\n\nOutside the usual oriental hawkers, always yelling, always selling. God, I was sick of the waiting. I thought about the heavy-lidded girl I left in my bed under the squeaking bamboo fan, already on the highest speed at 8am in the morning. I had pulled on brown trousers and a white shirt, didn't shave, barely had time to pass last night's alcohol in the broken toilet. An early hightail only to be told I had to sit and wait for an ID check via telephone from the State Department. Two hours I've been here. Two hours of sticking to that goddamned plastic chair.\n\n\"Sir?\" At last! One of the dinks had come out, smiling, greasy. He handed me the battered manilla folder with one hand and an open palm with the other. I couldn't believe it: the little fuck face wanted to be tipped for keeping me there in that Siagon cesspool all morning.\n\nI bared my teeth at him, took my mail and walked out the door. Down the road was a nice little French cafe, open, breezy, and full of English-speaking correspondents drinking on the terrace. I sat down, ordered a lemonade and a whisky chaser from a smiling black-eyed hoochgirl, and opened my envelope. \n\nThere he was, in all his black and white glory. Damon Miller, prize prick and corrupt politician, in bed with Senator McGowan's wife. It was him alright. The elephant tattoo on his left buttock was particularly visible in the photograph, a reminder of his time in African shooting the natives and their pets. McGowan's wife was spread-eagled in a fit of ecstasy, a look, no doubt, her ageing husband never inspired in her. \n\nShit. I was holding the future of this asshole war in my hands. Get Miller by the balls and a way to get to the president's ear was also on the cards. I placed the photograph face down on the tablecloth. I didn't want that smiling Vietnamese waitress to think I was an American fiend of the sexual variety when she came back with my drinks. I was starting to cool down out on the boulevard sidewalk. A breeze had picked up and a convey of drab green was making its way through the bands of motorbikes and bicycles, all fighting their way to equally loud and busy destinations.\n\nI heard a couple of wet classes clink down on the table and turned to a smiling girl, hair loosened and pretty around her face. She wore a light pink tunic and lipstick on her mouth. I was just beginning to ask her to stay for a drink when I was pushed forward in my chair. I turned my head just in time to see a small brown hand reach over the terrace and take my photograph with the manilla envelope under it. Before I could even stand up he was gone into the throng pushed to the side of the road by that fucking military convoy. I got a good look at his face though: that little fuck face public servant I didn't tip from the mail place. Didn't the shit stain know I knew where he worked?", "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away: there lived a young princess who loved to talk with animals and sing songs all day. She was a beautiful girl with long curly blond hair, and eyes that sparkled like blue diamonds. She could often be seen in her gorgeous pink dress, playing in the forest and talking with birds and squirrels.\n\nOne day, while she was sitting by the pond next to the flowering meadow, an old witch came by and saw her. She saw the young princess talking with the animals and consorting with bunnies. \n\n\"How great it would be to have her skills at my disposal!\" said the witch, and she began to walk closer. Suddenly she stopped short and wondered if she was acting too bold. She decided to plan her introduction first, so she hid behind a tree and rehearsed her first words.\n\nWhen she felt satisfied with her plan, she began her approach.\n\"My dear! How surprising it is to see you here!\"\n\nThe young princess turned to look at the sudden new voice; the small animals scurried away and hid behind the folds in her dress then hissed bravely.\n\n\"OH! No need to feel frightened!\" said the witch.\n\nSorry, this... can you please move this... HEY! I'm trying to read this story here! Thank you.\nuhh... oh!\n\"I wasn't frightened\" said the young princess, \"You just startled me, that's all\"\n\n\"Oh you are a dear aren't you?\" replied the witch.\nGod! can't you just keep this thing over there? This is the second time you let this animal over here and I think it should be the last. Thank you\n\n\"Sorry, my dear I...\"\nGet that fucking elephant out of here!... What? No I don't care if it is! Just take it out of here!... NO! Look, I'm trying to read to these kids and they don't need this.........? LOOK motherfucker! You got your time later, but this is my time! MY TIME!!!! MY TIME!!! All-right! Fine! You wanna play that!?!?!? Take some of this shit! Let's see how badass you are now motherfucker!" ]	2
	[WP] Sleep paralysis is defensive mechanism. They can't hurt you if you don't move.	[ "I still remember the very first time that I experienced sleep paralysis. It was shortly after my fourteenth birthday, almost ten years ago. I have to admit that I was scared out of my mind the first time it happened. I was startled awake as my brother returned home around midnight from his job. He never went out of his way to be quiet when I was sleeping and he loudly shut our bathroom door that was attached to the bedroom that we shared. The sudden noise in the silent night jarred me awake. \n\nMy eyes shot open and I went to yell at him for waking me, but I couldn’t speak. Quickly, I began to panic. I tried to sit up, but to no avail. My mind was racing and I could feel my body breaking out in an icy cold sweat. I cannot remember struggling to do something more than I did that night. It seemed like hours, but it was, more likely, less than a minute and I tried as hard as I could to move. \n\nMy only success was that I was able to blink my eyes. \nSuddenly, it all stopped. I bolted up and out of bed. I was drenched in sweat, shaking like a leaf, and scared out of my mind. All I could do was stand there staring down at my bed and try to wrap my mind around what the hell had just happened. Was I actually dreaming? Was I losing my mind? I practically jumped out of my skin when my brother flung open the bathroom door.\n\n“What are you doing up?” Jason asked.\n\n“Um, you…you woke me up, asshole.”\n\n“Whatever, go back to sleep.”\n\nI cautiously climbed back into bed and tried to make sense of what happened, but I wasn’t able to come to any conclusions that made any sense to me. After a while I was able to relax enough to fall back asleep and slept for the rest of the night with no other problems. \n\nThe next few days I kept replaying the whole thing in my mind, but it was pointless. I had convinced myself that it was some kind of dream or hallucination, even though that didn’t feel right. Eventually, it slipped further from my thoughts and I returned to my regular teenage life, not a care in the world. \n\nAbout seven months later it happened again. That second time, I wasn’t startled awake by anything that I could recognize. I was just suddenly awake and staring at the ceiling and unable to move again. I started to panic as I did the first time, but I tried desperately to calm myself and was somewhat successful. I was still scared and confused as to what the hell was happening to me. I knew that my brother wasn’t home, he was on a vacation with his friends at the time, but I could feel that someone was in the room with me. A feeling of dread washed over me and I tried as hard as I possibly could to turn my head toward my brother’s bed. The best I could do was roll my eyes to the side, but it wasn’t far enough to see anything. A few long moments later I snapped out of it again and shot a look over to the other side of the room.\n\nI was alone. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone, though.\n\nThese events began to happen more often, the next time it was just a few months later and shortly after that it happened again. It began happening at least once or twice a month during my fifteenth year. The only thing that changed, besides that growing frequency of occurrences, was the feeling of dread and that I was not alone kept gradually growing. It got to the point that I could swear that I could feel someone breathing on the side of my head. Before the sleep paralysis episodes started, I was always a back sleeper. I always had a hard time falling asleep on my side or stomach, but, with the intensifying feeling that someone was beside my bed during the episodes, I started forcing myself to sleep on my side so that I was facing my brother’s bed. \n\nBoy do I wish that I hadn’t done that.\n\nFinally able to sleep soundly on my side after a couple weeks, I found myself frozen as my eyes shot open. I was immediately drowning in fear, despite not seeing anything. I could feel something terrible though. My brother was sound asleep in his bed and I was silently screaming for him to wake up and help me. In the middle of trying to get my pleas to escape my head and form into words my mind was stopped dead as I saw a hand reach up and grasp the edge of my bed. The hand was deathly gray, rotten flesh stretched over bony fingers. Small parts of the flesh was missing or hanging loose exposing the bone underneath. I had never been more afraid in my life and, despite what happened after this time, I still haven’t been. I seemed to not even be able to close my eyes this time and the owner of the dead hand came into view right after the hand appeared. The horrible sight came up over the edge of the bed and hovered over its grasping hand. The flesh on its face matched its hand, a deep gash across its right cheek hung down, exposing its cheek bone and black and jagged teeth. I was staring into empty black eye sockets that, even with a lack of actual eyes, were staring into my soul. The thing’s mouth began to widen and a soul wrenching screech began pouring out. As its jaws grew past any normal range of motion, I thought the sound was going to make my ears bleed and suddenly it was gone and I was free. \n\nI scrambled backwards until I was pressed tight against the wall and let out a scream of terror. My brother jumped awake and out of his bed.\n\n“What the fuck are you screaming about?”\n\n“There was something in the room, something coming towards me,” I managed to spit out.\n\n“You just had a nightmare, go back to bed and shut the hell up,” Jason yelled as he threw himself back onto his bed.\n\nNeedless to say, I didn’t sleep again that night or the next. I was so terrified, I knew it wasn’t just a nightmare. That thing was real and it wanted me. I don’t know what it wanted, but I knew it wouldn’t be good for me to let it get what it did want. Eventually, exhaustion got the best of me and I was forced to sleep.\n\nNothing happened. Nothing happened again for a few years.\n\nAfter I moved off to college they started happening again. The thing would appear in the room, but wasn’t ever as close as it was that first time. I had a feeling that it was biding its time and waiting for the right time. It got greedy before. Not again, it was patient and had all of the time in the world. There were times when I couldn’t see it, but could feel its presence. Sometimes it was crouched in the corner, sometimes sitting on my roommate’s bed. After many appearances, I began to expect it showing up, but the fear was always constant and growing. It went on like this throughout college and I was able to live a normal life outside of the events and to keep it hidden from everyone. \n\nI finished college and moved to a new city for my first job and managed to find a girlfriend for the first time in years. Things were going good. The occurrences were even getting further apart. Maybe it was all in my head and hallucinations. Was my happiness fixing them? I got my answer on the first night that my girlfriend, Claire, stayed over at my apartment.\n\nAfter a nice evening together, we fell asleep in my bed. At one point, while I was sound asleep, I was awoken by my girlfriend closing my bathroom door. Although, she was considerate, unlike my brother was, and she tried not to wake me, she failed. I opened my eyes to see the thing standing at the foot of my bed. I was frozen stiff as it stared down at me. I had not seen it move since its first appearance so, when it bent down and rested its dead hands on my bed I was extremely startled. I begged my body to work, to move away from the terror that was now crawling onto my bed and over my legs. I was desperately trying to kick my legs up to knock it away. \n\nIt paused when its hands were even with my waist. It was looking down deep in my eyes. Even though I was not a religious man, I was praying for God’s help. To this day I hope that what happened next wasn’t God’s version of an answer to my prayers. \n\nThe bathroom door began to open as my girlfriend was returning to bed. A narrow beam of light flashed on my face as she looked at me. She stopped dead in her tracks as she could sense my terror. I don’t know if she could see the thing, but it could definitely see her. It leapt off from my bed across the room and knocked her back into the bathroom and slamming the door shut at the same time. As soon as it jumped from the bed I wasn’t frozen any longer. \nIn the instant that it took the thing to knock Claire into the bathroom and slam the door shut, I was starting to fling myself out of bed after it, I shouted, “Claire!”\n\nAt the sound of my voice the thing turned back to me. Its jaws sprung open wider than I thought possible and it bellowed out the same shriek at a deafening level. I could feel my body going limp as I lost control just as the thing jumped from the door and landed on top of my falling body. The last thing I saw as the back of my head struck the floor was the things huge jaws closing in over my face.\n\nFrom what I have heard it has been almost a year since that night. All I can do now is hear and see. I can hear my family and other people, which I assume are doctors and nurses, judging by what they tell my family. I am trapped in a coma, that’s what the doctors said. I might as well be in a constant state of sleep paralysis because I cannot move a muscle, not even my eyelids anymore. Even with my eyelids closed I can still see one thing and one thing only. The thing is laying on my bed next to me. Its arms are wrapped around me and it is extremely slowly pulling our beings together and I can feel our souls merging. It is becoming me and I am becoming it…\n", "Perhaps it's my fault this all started. I've always been too curious for my own good. I would pick up a subject and obsess over it. Learn everything I could about it and then move onto the next thing. The truth is, there are some things you can't learn everything about; but I think I've got a few things figured out.\n\nI always had a fascination with dreams. They always were in the same catalog of settings, but with different stories. A mansion that once was host to a exhilarating game of paintball was painted over with dust and webs to become a lonely prison. No one else I knew dreamed like this; the same places over and over. So, I grew curious and my research led me onto tangent after tangent. Eventually I forgot what I was looking for and found something else.\n\nLucid dreaming. The ability to control one's own dreams. The ability to become a god in one's own mind. I tried a few different ways, but only had success with one. \n\nEach night as I lay to sleep I repeat to myself \"I am about to sleep,\" until I passed out. At first I would have the sensation that something was wrong as I dreamt. Eventually my mind would realize it's dreaming and that's the key to this. Once you know you're dreaming you either wake up, or gain complete control. I kept doing this every night until it seemed more natural to dream lucidly then dream normally.\n\nOf course I had to take it to the next step. If lucid dreaming was possible, then shouldn't some of those other dream related phenomena? I set out to test out how much our mind could actually do; I wanted to test out astral projection. Of course it never worked, but I was stupid enough to try. That's when she showed up.\n\nImagine waking up out of a dead sleep to complete consciousness, and then as you take in your surroundings only to notice her. The monster at the foot of the bed. Watching you. She want's to kill you, but can't or won't. You will die. You have to change this. You have to do something, but can't. As every fiber of your being screams out you lay stuck, staring at your own personal monster. For most they experience fear, but I was enraged. There was no thought, only hatred of the thing that hated me. It seemed like an eternity that we locked eyes. I could feel a million twitches of my muscles as I struggled to move. Then as quickly as it came, I was released and my body flung itself with all the pent up rage that had been held back. Blackness. \n\nThat was my mistake. You can't fight them. They need something from you, and they will keep coming. Relentless. Slowly you'll run out of energy to fight it, and it'll consume you.\n\nI imagined I was floating around my house that night. First dream I've ever had outside my normal catalog of settings. When I woke up I replayed it over and over. She scared me. I scared me. No control. I couldn't sleep right for a few days. Abandoned my experiments in astral projection. Abandoned my efforts in lucid dreaming, but it still happened accidentally; at this point I was programmed. \n\nEventually I settled my nerves. I got back into a normal sleep routine. Researched sleep paralysis and convinced my self this was a explainable scientific phenomena. Convinced myself that it was a trick of the mind... It wasn't.\n\nA few months later it happened again. I could only sit watching as my closet door slid open. When I was free from the spell I would spring up and slam the door shut, and flip on the lights. The door was open when I went to sleep. It had to be. That was the only thing that made sense.\n\nEvery night from then on this would happen. Every night until I started blockading the closet. She didn't like that. When I woke up I couldn't see her, but I have grown accustomed to her presence. The heavy weight of hate hung over me, and for the first time I truly feared it. It started innocently enough. A slight shiver of the bed; as if some one had bumped into it. Then it happened again, and again. Each time increasing with force. I realized what it was. I knew what she was doing. She was pulling the mattress from the frame. All I could do was lie there as the bed shook back and forth. And then it happened. All at once the mattress hit the floor and I was suddenly free. I flung up and flipped on the lights. The door was wide open. I don't leave the door open. Ever. I didn't sleep for three days after that. Fell asleep driving for a moment.\n\nFor the next couple of months I slept with the lights on. It helped at first. But she came back eventually. I can feel her presence everywhere now. It seems like every time I turn a corner she'll be there. I know what she wants... And I'm going to give it to her. I can't do this anymore.", "My twin sister was always terrified of the dark. For as long as I can remember my parents always had a hard time putting her to sleep. Each day, as the sun began to descend, she would pace nervously. Our parents dreaded this moment. It meant an uncontrollable baby, lack of sleep, frustration. \n\nI remember the office visits and how we were escorted out of one office because my dad began to scream at the doctor. I remember this clearly because of how angry he had become. My dad is the nicest man I know, but that day it was as if the world's entire hate filled inside him. I was to young to remember the conversation, only my dad angrily screaming to the doctor \"what do you mean there's nothing wrong with her\". I remember Charlotte holding my hand tight. I remember her eyes on the verge of tears and a face of guilt believing this was all her fault. My mom looking at her with even more guilt. There WAS something with Charlotte and our parents could do nothing about it. \n\nWhen we were six years old things were slightly better. For my parents. Charlotte learned to control her fear of the night. At least control her begging my parents not to let her fall asleep. My parents, finally, after years could finally sleep through the night. Charlotte still could not. She would run to my room after our goodnight's were said. She'd run into my bed and hold my hand tight begging me not to let her fall asleep. \"Evan. Please. Don't let me fall asleep\", she would whisper to me. \n\n\"Why Charlotte?\" I asked, scared.\n\n\"They come for me Evan. They want to take us away from mom and dad.\" She would tell me. \"I told them to leave you alone but they just giggle. Please Evan. No more giggles.\"\n\n\"Ok Charlotte. Let's play a game.\" I would tell her. But as much as I tried and fought to stay awake, I would fall asleep. I was terrified of every thing she told me. But I was her brother and even though I was six, I wanted to protect her, from what I didn't know. I never saw them. I never heard things. But the fear in her eyes made me believe she was in danger. But I could never stay awake.\n\nOne night when we turned ten, after playing outside on the last day of summer before returning to school, Charlotte was exhausted. She had gone two nights with no sleep. She hid it surprisingly well. But that night was the second worst night of my life. I finally realized why Charlotte always resisted sleeping. As usual Charlotte snuck into my room. This time I was determined to stay awake. I had made coffee and snuck it into my room. Never having coffee before, I was beyond wired. I told Charlotte that she could some sleep and I would stay up. She needed the rest. She believed me. She looked at me with care and love and finally, without worry. Ten minutes after dozing off, Charlotte began to jerk. I could see her trying to grab something. Her hands slowly turning into fists trying to fight an invisible force away. Tears were running down her eyes. \n\nI began to scream at her. \"Charlotte! Charlotte! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!\" I pulled her eye lids back and saw nothing but the white of her eyes. I pulled her hair. I dropped books. Nothing. The commotion awoke my parents who came running to the room.\n\n\"What is going on!?\" My dad screamed. All I could do was point at Charlotte. Her small frame till churning. Her eyes now full of tears. Whimpering. My mom began to scream. My dad yelling at my mom to call 911. The full chaos of that night, I began to get dizzy. The room was turning and I saw black.\n\nI awoke on my bed. My aunt and uncle with me. Confused, I began to call out for Charlotte. Charlotte is not with us anymore. No I don't believe you. She didn't wake up. What do you mean? Your parents are at the hospital. No, I want to see Charlotte.\n\nThat's all remember of Charlotte's last night. No one believed me when I told them what Charlotte was scared of. I grew up alone. I lost my best friend. \n\nUntil one night on my 21st birthday. Finally able to move on from Charlotte's death, I made friends and to celebrate my 21st we did what most new 21 year olds do: get wasted. And wasted I got. The last thing I remember was sitting on the couch about to make my drunk move on whatever random girl was sitting on my buddy's couch. \"Hey, what...\" I remember I managed saying before blacking out. \n\nThis was the night that I finally met them face to face. Or more, I heard the giggles. I lost my sister in front of me. The night I stayed to protect her. I was going to be the one to chase whatever evil was haunting her. That was the night my sister would be able to rest and wake up without worries. But i lost her that night. And yet, this exact moment truly defined fear. Worse than the night I lost Charlotte. \n\nThe giggles became louder and louder. I could the see the room around me. I could see where everyone was at. Blurry and unrecognizable. I tried calling out for help but all I mange was a whimper. I could walk around the shadows that i knew belonged to my friends but I could not get their attention. The room was almost dark and the shadows gray like smoke. The giggles. They were getting closer but I could not see where it was coming from. \n\nI ran. And ran but the room only got bigger and I could never reach the door. My body began to feel heavy. I could feel tears running down my face. I ran to the shadows: \"HELP ME!\" I begged. But my voice sounded like it was drowned under water. I tried punching a shadow but my arm weighed a thousand pounds and fell weakly to my side. The giggles were closer now. \n\nHi. What's your name. We want to play with you. Play with us. Stay with us forever. Like your sister. Charlotte. You are special. Like Charlotte. Like Charlotte. Like Charlotte. \n\nLike Charlotte. Over and over again with the same giggle. Every time. \n\n\"Charlotte!!\" I screamed as I ran. Calling out for my sister as if she were still alive. I ran helplessly knowing I was only running in place. \n\nLike Charlotte.\n\nLike Charlotte. \n\n\"Evan. Don't move.\" I heard Charlotte telling me. I fell to the ground as if something tackled me. The weight on my chest felt as if i was hit by a bus. \"Don't move Evan\". It was Charlotte. \n\n\"Charlotte?\". I called. \n\n\"Don't can't hurt you if you don't move\". She told me. I was pinned to the floor. Was it her? Was it the giggles?\n\nThe giggling stopped. \"WHERE ARE YOU BOY. WE WANT YOU. WE NEED YOU. LIKE CHARLOTTE. WHERE ARE YOU BOY!\" \n\n\"I'll protect you Evan. It's my turn\". I saw dark figures moving around. Coming closer. \"It's ok Evan. I'm here now\".\n\n\"WE WANT THE BOY. GIVE US THE BOY. WE NEED THE BOY!\". The giggles were now begging. They past through me and felt a cold I never felt before. They began to scream even more. The ground felt as if it was shaking.\n\n\"If we can't have the boy we WILL come after YOU again and again and again. Like the night we took you Charlotte.\"\n\nI couldn't talk. I want to scream Charlotte to let me go that I would give myself to them. To have to experience what Charlotte did that night every night for how long? No. I was her brother. I would protect her. But I couldn't. Instead I heard Charlotte's voice tell me \"It's ok. It's my turn now Evan.\"\n\nAnd I awoke. The party was still going on and no one had a single clue what happened to me. My sister had become my savior. Since they came, she protected me. She always did. The paralysis I went through, I only experienced that night. Charlotte went through it for years and may still forever. \n\nI love you Charlotte. Wherever you are.", "All my life, I've come to realize I must be crazy.\n\nMost friends have the most rational fears. From spiders, heights, snakes, to flying, rollercoasters, to hell even birds. \nBut its not the case with me, my biggest fear is what most call \"one of the greatest parts of the day\". I haven't gone through a single restful night since I was age 9. Its not the fear of the dark, but what was in it. I wake up every night to the feeling of dark shadows that crawl under the floorboard; to floating bright eyes staring through the dark. Sometimes, they even get inches away from their hands reaching to strangle my throat and suck out my soul. \n\nThat's it! I'm fucking crazy. This is something that my friends, doc, sister, parents think! I'm not denying it, its drove me to the craziest of thoughts. But today, today was different. In my awakening I've found it! I've figured it out. Its something you shouldn't struggle or fear or even fight against! Because even though every night I wake to the sounds of the demons and I drown in fear with the feeling of being only seconds away from death or being saved. I found it! They cant hurt me because I wont hurt them. I've fought it since the day I have it and now I don't see the point in it. Because have they ever even done anything? Did I ever come to death or even been physically harmed? No, so today I faced my biggest fear. \n\nI woke up and I did absolutely nothing. The shadows stared and moved forward motion for an attack, but they stopped! Why did they stop? That's when I figured it out! They knew I no longer had cared. The only reason they did those things was they knew they could bully and get a reaction out of me. But once they stopped I remembered staring at the ceiling fan for at least 14 minutes and hell to be honest I was scared because that had never happened before. But at that time I knew what to do and I knew I was not crazy but maybe it was some hole I fell in that kep happening to me because I was scared. This was what I call a victory. \n\n", "I've had terrible sleep paralysis experiences in the past. ONE really creepy one that I vividly remember-\nI had drifted off into the paralyzing state and i began to hear footsteps come through my door. A tall, black, shadowy yet sort of glowing figure was at the foot of my bed.\nI have a wooden floor in my room, imagine a group of little dogs with long toe nails running around your bed, in and out back and forth, in circles etc. That is what i began to hear but of course I didn't think it was dogs at the time.\nTHEN right outside my window, I heard a group of children singing carols. Not happy-go-lucky bs Christmas carols, but a low sort of chanting, though, I could not make out the words.\n\nThis is one of the many times I woke my mom up, who sleeps down the hall, just by screaming with my mouth closed. ", "I remember the nights when I was younger, sitting in the dark, sheet pulled up to my chin, and eyes squeezed tightly shut as I attempt to cease all movement. I could hear footsteps, and those piercing green eyes in the closet...\n\nEvery morning that creature would somehow disappear into my sister's glow in the dark dragon costume that my parents stored in my closet, and the dogs would always make the same stepping sound. At friends' houses I was always praised for my sturdy pillow forts. To them, it was about having a dark fort with room to move around,for me, it was about being able to see and move safely. I was separated from, what their parents called, the cat.\n\nI was thinking about this when I went to lie down tonight. I watched some Netflix on my computer across the room for a while, but when my season of Bob's Burgers ended, I rolled over to reach for my navigation tablet and turned off my computer. Wen I reached to replace the tablet, I saw it.\n\nThe green eyes. A dark, fuzzy silhouette surrounding those piercing green eyes. It was staring at my hand. I remained motionless. Something rang through me, like pure instinct coming straight from my childhood. We sat there for what felt like hours. I wouldn't dare move while he was following my shape under the covers with those eyes all night. I saw that all the other houses with lights off had these creatures looking in the windows.\n\nI heard muffled screams coming from the house two doors up. I only knew because they all looked up there briefly. I finally let my hand fall back to the sheets, and the creatures all turned back to their windows. He noticed something was different. he pulled open the window and crawled, no, fell in. It stood up so I could finally see what he looked like fully. Long sharp claws on both pairs of arms, and all 3 legs. He reeked of mold. He lightly dragged a finger all the way from my hip to my chin, and it took all I had not to scream. \n\nWe stayed staring quietly at each other all night until ,finally, the sun began to come up. It fell out of my window and they all started to head north. I reached for my pone and quickly called the sheriff who lived up the street. He answered with a groggy \"Hello? Josh, why are you calling this early?\" I quickly told him I sent a picture, he needs to use his authority to spread the word about these creatures.\n\nThere was a bubble on my screen telling me he was responding to the picture I took. I heard screaming up the street.", "My vision blurs and crackles, I think, before a scene materialises in front of my eyes: a play of shadows against the peeling paint on the ceiling.\n\nA lawn. A fence a few distances behind. The green of the grass is poisoned by my mind and the perceived night, shifting and morphing from blades, to waves, to fur, and back to harmless green again.\n\nThen footsteps: the refreshing crunch of lawn under its feet. Or his. A person maybe, no, a monster. It has the body of a man, and a face that is hard to define. Advancing with a languid pace, it glides into view, floating closer, closer. Swaying side to side, puppeted by some invisible force.\n\nMy gaze is forced onto its face. It's not much of a face, but a gaping orifice ringed with arching, tapered teeth. What lies within its jaws is more darkness — a blackness flexing and gleaming like muscle.\n\nThere stood a nightmare that is wholly mine.\n\n\"What's that?\" The voice, without a source, is inflected with curiosity. \n\nThen it sees me. It makes no outward indication of it except for a slight shift in posture, a twitch so inscrutable — unless you are looking for it.\n\nIt sees me. It will approach. I cannot run. Run. Run. My body does not listen, or is unwilling to listen.\n\nAs the distance narrows between us, the monster's jaw extends: a sick glint of saliva stringing between its teeth. It never does stop swaying: left, right, left, right—\n\nRight in front.\n\nDo not move.\n\nA riot of pixels explode from the fringes of my vision like a glitch-ridden game — a pause screen gone wrong.\n\nThe moon-white ceiling bleeds through, before the scene vanishes. Weight tapers off my body. My eyes flutter open, to find a single tear trailing from the corner of my eye.\n\nAnd the monster I've brought with me from my dreams.\n", "It had no eyes. There were no eyes. But it was looking at me. I could feel it looking at me. I tried to scream. I tried to warn her but all I could do was look right back at it. A nightmare in real life. I could feel its hunger. It hasn’t fed in days, maybe in weeks. But no matter how hungry it was, it couldn’t attack without movement. Movement is what seals them into this realm, and absence of that will send them back from where they came. I knew it was only a matter of time. She is not immune, she doesn’t know that it’s here. All it would take is a single scratch, a single kick, a single tiny movement, if I could move I would let the nightmare have me if it meant sparing her, but my immunity meant I could not even utter a single phrase, let alone try to fight the nightmare off. I could hear the covers rustling. \n\n“I’m so sorry.” I thought.\n\nThere was a scream.\n\n“So sorry,”\n\nThere was a slash.\n\n“So,”\n\nThen there was only the nightmare, feeding, satisfying its hunger until the dawn light scared it away.\n\n“Sorry.”\n", "I had always thought the monsters were just stories, fairy tales adults told children to keep them in line. But, the creatures chasing me through the woods were no fairy tale. They were as real as the thudding of my heart.\n\nI crashed through the underbrush, fleeing for my life. Strands of vegetation whipped at my face and threatened to entangle my legs. But, I dared not slow down. I could hear the monsters crashing through the woods behind me. There were three of them, all as big as houses and ugly as sin. I could hear them grunting to each other. The stories had always depicted them as dumb brutes. Did they have a language? Were they intelligent? But, I had no interest in stopping to find out. The words of my grandmother rang in my head: “If they catch you, they’ll skin you and eat you,” she would say. “They are evil, nightmares made flesh.”\n\nI felt myself shuddering at the thought as I raced through the woods. The shudder transformed into an icy stab of fear when I heard the snapping of twigs and the pounding of feet behind me, closer than before. The monsters were gaining on me. I realized their long legs could carry them further faster than my shorter legs ever could.\n\nPanicked, my mind flailed about for a way to escape, a way to elude certain death. Suddenly, something else my grandmother said hit me. It was my only hope.\n\nI skidded to a stop. I hastily flipped onto my back. I extending my four legs into the air and stretched out my long tail, simulating rigor mortis. I partially closed my eyes.\n\nThrough slitted eyelids, the monsters soon came into view. They stopped directly over me, looking down at me and grunting at each other in their brutish language. They were as grotesque as the stories described them to be, pink hairless apes that walked upright.\n\n“Just play possum,” my grandmother had said about evading the monsters. “They can’t hurt you if you don’t move.”", "They can't hurt you if you don't move.\n\nThat's what I'm come to realize, after years of those terrifying experiences. They can't hurt you if you don't move. Sleep paralysis. Almost everyone's had it. The simple explanation. When you're dreaming, your brain paralyzes your body so you don't start acting out your dreams. So if you were dreaming about running, you wouldn't actually start pumping your legs in your bed. Sometimes you wake up before your body does, and you can feel yourself paralyzed.\n\nIt's fucking terrifying. You're not in control of your body, and that's when they come.\n\nThey're visions. When you're in sleep paralysis, sometimes you see things. Terrifying visions, monsters, all that shit. Visions, that's what they are, nothing but visions. That's what everyone says.\n\nNo one's been hurt by sleep paralysis. Ever.\n\nThat's because they can't hurt you if you don't move.\n\nI realized what they are. They're not visions. They're real, and they're fucking evil. Sleep paralysis isn't just some shit for visions, it's a defense mechanism. That's what it is, it's to protect you from them. To protect you from the girl in the blue dress, from the demon in the doorway, from the goblin on your bed, from the man under it. And from you.\n\nMy first sleep paralysis experiences had scared me so much I slept in my parent's bed for a year before braving my own bedroom. I was 12 back then, and my first experiences were of the goblin.\n\nAt least, that's what I called it. It's a short, runty, fat little bastard. It had huge green eyes and this lumpy, scaly skin. Two massive ears, and nose hair sprouting from each nostril. I'd wake up to it sitting on my fucking bed, grinning at me, grinning at me with all those fucking little pointy teeth.\n\nBut he wasn't the real threat. That was the girl in the blue dress. The girl, with that rotting, white, blotchy skin. In that torn, dusty blue dress. With that long, curly black hair that hung over her eyes. Her empty, eye sockets.\n\nShe ran her hands all over me, she hissed, and chattered, the only sounds she could make without a tongue. She tried to stab me with those long, skeleton fingers, but she couldn't.\n\nBecause they can't hurt you if you don't move.\n\n\n\n\n ", "\"Doctor, I know you think I'm crazy. I really do. I just might be, you know? I mean, I've been talking about this shit for years now, and everyone who's ever heard it says I'm fucking nuts. Off my fucking rocker. But I gotta say it, you know? I gotta keep talking about this shit, or it'll, I don't know, it'll eat me up. It'll just tear me up inside until I really am crazy, and I explode. I just gotta. So I checked myself in, so I can, you know, talk about it. That's what's nice about this fucking place. Everyone knows you're a fucking nutter and they all listen and smile and nod and never ever tell you it's a dream, right? I don't feel crazy here. I feel like I make a lot of fucking sense.\"\n\n\"I grew up in Indiana, Doc. My grandma, she had a house, an old creaky wooden house in the woods. In the summer I used to go out with my friends into the woods, and play in the creek, and beat snakes to death with rocks. Kid stuff. The summer was great. It was all green, and soft, you know? Like, the moss was soft. You could run around without shoes on and just let your feet sink into the dead leaves and mud. There was like, cool bits and warm bits. The sun was warm, and the leaves were cool. It's hard to explain, Doc. Jesus Christ, I don't need to go into this with you. I'm turning into a fucking teenage girl. Fuck.\"\n\n\"There was a graveyard in the woods too, if you went far enough. An old one with worn headstones, like, a fucking hundred-year-old bone yard. It was in a clearing, so the sun was always right down on it, you know? But it wasn't ever warm there, like the other clearings. We didn't go there too often. Gave us the fucking creeps, you know? There was this mud there, and it stank. Stuck to fucking everything, too. Thick black mud. Ruined my shoes once, and my grandma beat me for that. She was a fucking hag. Anyway, there was this big hunk of stone in the middle of it, and one time I, I mean, I fucking broke it, you know? I was just sitting on it, I guess it was an angel, and I was sitting on a wing, and it fucking broke. I don't know. The whole thing was worn down and mossy, so you could hardly tell it was an angel once. It could have been one of those creepy ass grim reapers, you know? Anyway, that's when it started.\"\n\n\"I started to see things, you know? At night. In my fucking closet. It was this chick in a fucking nightgown, and she was all rotted and shit. No eyes or hair or nothing, just all bones and skin. Fuck. Creepy as hell. And she'd just sit in my closet and watch me, like a fucking creep. You could only tell it was a chick because she wore an old dress, all tore up and shit. And sometimes I'd hear crying, like it was a chick, you know? Inside my closet. It was like that for a long time. Just crying, and this skeleton chick staring at me. I told my grandma and she took me to therapy, to see this lady doctor who talked about my parents and shit. Told me it was some repressed fucking memory or some shit, I don't know. Fuck. Anyway, it was like that for a while. Just some repressed memories and shit, and I ignored it. I ignored it for a long ass time.\"\n\n\"Then one night, I woke up. I woke up and this skeleton chick was standing over me in bed, with her finger on my lips, and she had this huge fucking smile on her face, like she was in the middle of some funny fucking joke and she was waiting for me to laugh. And I just, you know, I fucking froze. I didn't even breathe while she was looking down at me. She started, I don't know, humming or singing or some shit. And running her finger under my chin and down my neck. She had this long nail, and it scratched at me a little. Then she leaned down and, like, I don't fucking know, kissed my on the forehead. Except she didn't have lips anymore, so it was just her fucking teeth on my face. And I still didn't move, even though she was right fucking there.\"\n\n\"There's only one way I know I'm not totally fucking off my rocker, doctor. And that was the stupid fucking dog. It came in my room and started barking. I mean, you saw what fucking happened to the dog. I didn't move, I just fucking watched from bed. She just, you know, she got her nails in him, and she just, I don't know, she tore him up, and spread him all over. He was squealing the whole fucking time, and she was just still humming this stupid song the whole time, like she was picking fucking daisies or something. Then she came to me in bed, and she took her hands, and they were all fucking bloody from the dog, and she started to put lines on my face. One at a time. And then a few on my chest. And I didn't fucking move, even though I was sobbing, because then she'd get her nails in me and my fucking guts would be hanging from the ceiling fan too, you know?\"\n\n\"Anyway, I got put in a place like this, and they worked at me until I could ignore her better. You know. Told me she wasn't real and gave me fucking pills and shit. And it worked for a really long time, you know? Except a few months ago, I had this chick over, and she kept me up past when I normally fall asleep, because, you know, I mean I don't have to tell you, Doc. You get me. And after she fell asleep, that dead bitch was there again. And I was just laying there, thinking that if I moved, or if that chick woke up and saw, we were both fucking dead. And this dead chick was just humming that fucking song and kissing me and running her hands all down me again. And so I came here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Doc, when you leave tonight, can you have the orderlies leave the fucking lights on? I don't do so good in the dark, you know?\"" ]	11
	[WP] A Viking dies in glorious battle, but when he awakens in the afterlife he finds himself in the Christian Heaven instead of Valhalla.	[ "“Welcome, Erik, to the gates of Heaven!” Saint Peter said. “We have been expecting you.”\n\nErik’s brow furrowed. “Heaven . . .” he said slowly. “Don’t you mean Valhalla?”\n\nA look of confusion crossed Peter’s face, and he looked down at the scroll in his hands. “Hmm, no, you’re definitely not another transfer . . .”\n\n“Why am I not in Valhalla? I died in glorious battle!”\n\n“Battle you say? Hmm, this is very odd. Would you mind handing me the scroll in your hand, Erik, it should show more details about your death.”\n\nErik looked down, surprised to find a scroll gripped tightly in his right hand. He handed it to Peter. \n\n“Hmm, yes, how could I forget? Okay, Erik, I think I understand the problem. I have some bad news, you might want to take a seat.” Peter gestured, and a small chair appeared.\n\n“I don’t want to sit down!” Erik yelled, “I want mead, I want to meet Odin, I need to prepare for Ragnarok!” He picked up the chair and tried to throw it at Peter, but it disappeared in his arms, leaving him thrashing in frustration. \n\n“You need to calm down, Erik.” Peter said quietly. “Don’t make me call Gabriel.”\n\n“Just explain why I am here and not in Valhalla!”\n\n“Hmm, well it seems, Erik, that you were particularly far south when you died in battle, much farther than Vikings normally travel. Is that correct.”\n\n“Hum, I suppose so? We traveled much farther than usual in our raids this year.”\n\n“Well, Erik, I’m just going to come out and say it, it seems that you died in battle fighting Muslims. And it says here that you killed quite a few Muslims before you were finally brought down by an arrow in your neck.”\n\n“Muslims . . .? What does that matter?”\n\n“Well, hmm, it appears that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, has reached an afterlife arrangement with the other god’s that all souls that kill at least three Muslim’s are guaranteed a place in Heaven. I believe it was the only way he could make the crusades happen.”\n\n“But why would Odin agree to such a thing?”\n\n“I couldn’t say, dear Erik. But there doesn’t seem to be any way around this law. So . . . welcome to Heaven!”\n", "Vagnar the bloodthirsty groaned as he awoke. The memories of his most recent and most glorious battles still fresh in his head. Until that axe had come out of nowhere.\n\n\"hello, hello, ah good, you're awake\".\nVagnar searched for the source of the voice, but found himself only surrounded by an empty whiteness.\n\n\"What is this trickery\" he bellowed. \n\n\"Now Tim, if you'd please calm down, we'll get you settled into you're own personal heaven soon enough\" was the only reply he got.\n\nHis frustration only grew and he began searching for his sword, \"Who is this Tim you speak of... I demand that you return to me my sword before I summon the full fury of Odins might\".\n\n\"wait, you're not Tim?\" the voice asked, with hints of worry beginning to come through.\n\n\"FOOLS, I AM VAGNAR THE BLOODTHIRSTY, LEADER OF DARK HORDE AND SLAYER OF THE ARMY OF WOLVES\"\n\n\"1 minute please\" \n\nVagnar began howling and beating his chest, building himself into a full-blown fury, whilst in the background a conversation could be heard.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n\"Pete, it's happened again. We've got some Vagnar bloke in room 16485\"\n\nA mumbled reply could be heard\n\n\"look, just call up Valhalla, ask to be put through to Bill in HR. Tell him we've got one of his and ask him to keep an eye out for a Tim from accounting'\"" ]	2
EDIT: it doesn't have to be a meteorite crashing into earth. I like the ones so far, but you can kill humanity however you want. It can be Cthulhu, it can be aliens, or it can be a solar flare. Whatever you want, the world is yours to murder.	[WP] The last minute of your life before the world ends.	[ "I totally should've asked Diane if she wanted to bang one out when we clocked in. Fuck. Even on the last day of my existence I get called into work. Fuck you, Jerry, fuck you and your three kids. Maybe I'll call my mom, she might not even know the world's ending, I can't remember the last time she checked the news. Never mind, that's no way to spend my last moments. Oh shit the phone is ringing. \n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Ted? Hey, it's Jerry, I know it's right about that time so I just wanted to thank you, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't get to share my last moments with my family, and there's literally no way for me to ever repay you, but I wanted to let you know that I-\"\n\n\"Yeah Jerry it's fine, just get back to them before I start the machine\"\n\n\"Look man, just, thank you. Thank you so much, I didn't really even know you and here you did me this favor. I'm sure you had to give up seeing someone for this.\"\n\n\"No. Jerry, I didn't.\"\n\n\"Oh, Okay... Well, hey man, don't worry about it-\"\n\nTed puts the phone down but the faint sound of Jerry not shutting up persists. Ted begins walking to the other end if the room. \n\n\"Motherfucking last day of Earth and somebody still has to fuck with my shit. Computer, activate The End is Bill Nigh protocol.\" \n\n\"Are you sure you want to quit?\"\n\n\"Yes! Fuck, even you gotta question my sh-\"\n", "They told us all to take the pill at 11:59. By noon we would walk together into extinction. I took my pill at exactly 11:59, just like I knew all the rest of the 6,000 people left existing on earth did. We are all gathered in the same area, the last place the radiation hadn't reached, until a few months ago. We have no hope for this world anymore, just hope for after.\n\nI laid in bed with my thoughts, my daughter's baby blanket clutched in my hands. I had no tears left to cry, and I hoped upon hope that my sleep would come quick and easy and I hoped I'd see my family again. \n\nMy stomach turns as I look out the window to the right of me. It's not unpleasant, kind of reminds me of my first roller coaster ride. Those days so long ago, smiles abound. Feels like I am looking back on someone else's life. \n\nFeeling tired now, won't be long. I look out at the grey clouds and smell the noxious fumes. For a brief second, the sun somehow breaks through the clouds and I am filled with intense joy. I close my eyes and let the warm dark beyond consume me. I am, we are...no more.", "“Dance with me.”\n\nHe blinked in confusion, “Here?”\n\nShe nodded, “Yeah. here.”\n\n“There’s no music,” he said, while standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his pants and reached out a hand. \n\n“Do we need music?” She said, giggling and reached up to grab his hand. \n\nSo the couple continued to dance without music on the roof of a skyscraper. While others were huddled beneath the surface of the earth in bunkers that would probably not withstand the death that would be raining down, the couple stay on the surface. \n\nAnd when their dance ended, there was no applause. \n\nJust a single clap. \n", "There was nothing left. I looked down at my hands as the dust fell around me; these few last things I had to remember us by. A portrait of you, held loosely between index and ring, slipping through to drift lazily down to the haze and flash below. Her necklace, shiny and cut; its diamonds reflected the harsh sunlight around it, onto the hands that slit it's neck. \n\nAs the horizon around me burst into plumes of orange and red fire, the blackest of smoke rising malevolently above the town we once called home. The air was thick and dusty, people could be heard screaming below and I wanted nothing more than to join them. But I sat. Looking forward, smoking my last cigarette, sitting on the edge of the building we built, we lived, we loved. The highrise swayed with the gale, I didn't care. The once pristine brick roof now was nothing but grey ash. The wind didn't carry breeze anymore, just suffocation.\n\nAs I put my cigarette out on my leg, the pain gave me more pleasure than agony. It was something to feel, when the last few days had all but desensitized me. It was a pleasure to be in pain. I wanted those last few moments of humanity before the cold embrace. The blood in my ears pounded as I stood.\n\nThere is nothing beautiful about death. It's messy and confusing and brings more misery than the happiness I expected. I just wanted you to be happy, Darling. But as I saw the the blood pour from your slender neck, and the horror flood to your face, I knew it wasn't happiness. It was fear. Don't you understand? This was the end of the world, honey. I love you. I needed to see you die so you didn't have to see me. You really were beautiful, even after the colour drained from your face. Goddamn I wanted to hold that face again; I'd be there soon, baby.\n\nMy blood pounded hard in my ears as I stood. My vision blurred with every heartbeat as I took the first step. I got weak knees with the second. On the third, I didn't feel the floor at all.", "Tick...tock.\n\nNot all minutes are created equal. \n\nTick...tock\n\nYes, all are comprised of exactly sixty seconds, and, if measured by the cold dispassionate hand of the clock, count down exactly the same number of ticks each time. However, humans are _anything_ but dispassionate. Consider; surely there have been times when the seconds melted into minutes and the minutes into hours all without you even noticing. While you read that one book, or perhaps as you stared into the eyes of your lover. A minute can seem little more than an instant, passed in the blink of an eye.\n\nTick...tock.\n\nThere are times, however, where a minute is an eternity. This is one of those minutes. \nThe knife feels good in his hand as hands of the clock tick away in the background, the only sound left to him.\n\nTick...tock\n\nThe hands rest at 11:59, as they have for the past hour. The past day. All his life. The metal glints in the moonlight. The point hovers over his heart. His hand shakes.\n\nTick...tock\n\nHe smiles, and the words of his once favourite poet spring unbidden from his lips. \n\n“Good creatures, do you love your lives\n\nAnd have you ears for sense?\n\nHere is a knife like other knives,\n\nThat cost me eighteen pence.\n\nI need but stick it in my heart\n\nAnd down will come the sky,\n\nAnd earth's foundations will depart\n\nAnd all you folk will die.” \n\nHe sticks the knife in his heart and the sky falls, the earth is torn asunder and ashis heart beats its last the world tumbles into darkness. \n\nThe clock strikes 12. The ticking stops.\n\n*\n\nThe poem is by A.E. Housman, I don't believe I'm in violation of any rules by quoting his work in the story, but if I'm incorrect I will happily edit out at the behest of a moderator.", "00:00:\n\nIt’s been 7 minutes. 7 minutes is definitely too long. My palms are getting sweaty and I’m worried now. I know it will happen, it’s inevitable but it’s a matter of when. Then it finally happens, the relief is palpable and I greet it with a confident smile, I knew it was going to happen all along.\n\n“Just a beer please”. \n\nWhy does it take so long to get served at these places? Unbelievable. And £5 for a pint!\n\nI turn around, the queue for the bar senses the gap and surges. My beer is squashed up against me and I lose £2.50 of it down the front of my shirt. I assign blame instantly to the most non-threatening person closest to me and my eyes meet with a slightly sorry-looking red haired girl. \n\n“Could be worse,” she says, “we could all be dead by now”. \n\n“Ha!” I say, “I suppose. I swear they only make these end of the world predictions as an excuse for a party”.\n\n“Probably, but we made it past midnight so we’re absolutely…\n\n00:01:\n\n…\n", "\"Welp, this is it, huh?\" I asked my best friend Nick, who is currently taking a swig from his bottle of vodka. \"The way the world ends.\"\n\n\"Don't make sound so romantic.\" he responded, \"The worlds about to get nailed by a giant flaming rock, it's supposed to sound awesome!\" Always a fan of destruction, Nick was. In the sixteen years we've known each other out of our twenty year long lives, he hasn't really changed. Not that I’m complaining, of course. \nWe walked in silence for the next fifteen minutes, our destination: the city bridge. Why the bridge? We weren't completely sure, it just seemed like the best place to watch everything go down, especially if we climbed to the top of it. I took a long drink from my bottle, enjoying the light taste of raspberry before the alcohol burns my mouth and nose. In all of the, lacking for a better word, excitement, we managed to slip into a grocery store and swipe two bottles of the drink as others dashed around the store in a frenzy to gather supplies. Little did they know that the incoming asteroid was large enough to wipe out the planet, but I guess ignorance is bliss, right? \n\n\"Hey, remember that time when we were eleven or whatever and we burned down that old barn by accident?\" Nick asked.\n\n\"Yeah, I had to run in and save your stupid ass.\"\n\nNick snorted. \"Yeah, not my brightest moment. Anyways, I never really than-\"\n\n\"Look,\" I interrupted, \"If you're about to get emotional right now, don't. I don’t think I can handle you bawling your eyes out right now.” Nick laughed and waved me off. \n\n“I promise not to cry, but I really do want to thank you for that. If you hadn’t, how else was I going to make your life a living hell?” I gave him a confused look.\n\n“You have the weirdest way of saying thank you.”\n\nWe arrived at the bridge, which was packed with cars honking as they moved at a snail’s pace to cross. Being that the asteroid was aimed just of shore of our fine city, we were considered Ground Zero by the media and scientists alike. It took less than a few minutes to reach the first white bricked tower, which stretched about a hundred feet into the sky where two American flags waved in the breeze. The only thing left was to reach the top, which would normally be impossible to just anyone. Each of the towers had a doorway that lead to a staircase to the top, and that door is always locked. Fortunately, Nick was a master lock picker, having practiced on this door many times whenever he brought a lady friend here for…reasons. \n\nAfter the door was picked open, we climbed the several story staircase to the top and kicked open the metal door. The wind was much stronger up here than it was on the ground, but hardly enough to bother either of us. We carefully walked over to the edge and sat down, both of us gazing outward at the ocean as it sent wave after wave towards the beach. It really was tranquil up here.\n\n“So how much longer until it hits?” Nick asked, taking another swig from his bottle. I glanced at my watch, which read a quarter after three. \n\n“They said it would hit in about seven hours at about 8:30 this morning…so about another fifteen minutes or so.” Nick hummed in acknowledgement. We sat in silence for the next while, unsure of how much time had passed. The flaming ball had been visible since around noon, and now it was at least six times its size since then and continued to grow in size as it got closer to its target. \n\n“Any regrets?” Nick asks, startling me a little. I think the alcohol is starting to work me over…\n\n“Probably not being able to take your sister you the carnival like I promised.” I responded truthfully. \n\n“Yeah, she would’ve loved that. Hell, she loves you.” Nick admitted as he turned to gauge my reaction. “Ever have any thoughts of dating her?”\n\nI shifted a little. “Maybe in another life. How about you? Any regrets?” \n\n“Spending my final moments with your ugly ass.”\n\n“You dick.” We both laughed. \n\n“But seriously, I don’t think I have any.” Nick said, setting his bottle between us. “I had a loving family and plenty of friends, I’ve done everything I could have wished to by this age aside from graduate college, and I met the coolest person in the world.”\n\n“Yeah, I agree. I am pretty cool.”\n\n“Shu-”\n\nA loud crashing sound interrupted Nick in the direction of the ocean.\n\nThis was it, the asteroid had hit the bulleyes. \n\nWaves and blazes of fire erupted from the impact sight, all of which were heading in our general direction. I raised my bottle to Nick, who picked up his own and tapped it against mine. \n\n“Remember the deal?” He asks, a single tear falling from his eye.\n\nI nodded. “If we go to Heaven, meet up at the gate. If we go to Hell, I’ll see you in the biggest strip club. Anywhere in between, we meet up at-“\n\nCRASH!*", "Mike's cigarette glowed orange as he took another drag. He leaned back in his lawn chair and sighed, smoke lazily drifting from his mouth. 30 years old, and this was it. He scanned the southern sky looking for the asteroid that would kill civilization.\n\nMike heard the roof door open and shut but didn't bother to turn around, his eyes still fixed around capricorn. There were footsteps followed by clattering as another chair was unfolded next to him. Mike took another drag from his cigarette then held it out.\n\n\"Thanks, hun,\" Laura said as she picked the cigarette from Mike's hand, pulled a joint from her ear, and used the burning ember to light her weed. She flicked the cigarette off the roof then handed the joint to Mike.\n\n\"You too,\" Mike said.\n\nThey sat in silence for a minute, passing the joint back and forth. If not for the end of the world, it would have been a lovely summer night. The city was quiet. For the past several weeks there had been chaos--sirens, fires, riots--as people tried to cope.\n\nTonight, nothing. People who thought leaving ground zero would save them had left. Those who could retreated underground. Everyone else was praying or watching or both. Between the lack of people and suicides taking out power lines, most of the city was dark, and stars could be seen fro the first time in decades.\n\n\"I think I see it,\" Laura said, breaking the silence.\n\n\"You sure that isn't a satellite?\"\n\n\"It's not moving sideways fast enough. Look.\" She leaned toward Mike and pointed. Mike followed her finger and squinted.\n\n\"Huh. I think you're right.\"\n\nLaura shrugged. They both kept their eyes on the tiny speck until they could tell it was growing.\n\"Well,\" Mike reached below his chair and picked up a pair of beers. He turned to Laura and offered one. \"It's... been a pleasure\"\n\nLaura took the can and popped it open. \"Yeah...\"\n\n\"Cheers, I guess.\" Mike raised his drink.\n\n\"To going out with a bang.\"\n\n\"To going out with a bang.\"\n\nThey locked eyes, clunked their beers together, and took a drink. They turned back to the stars to watch an asteroid become a meteorite.", "I always figured I'd have a hand in it. Really, I'd have it no other way. A super magnet that attracted asteroids was something to behold. I wondered how many people really knew what was coming. It would be a glorious beautiful fireball and all the shaking and destruction. What a beautiful sight. \n\nIt approaches. A big one, miles in diameter, an Earth killer. I asked for money to stop the machine, and they gave it to me. Trillions of dollars to stop me. I thought of their fear, and I smiled. I could see it, the hot fire in the sky. I counted down in my head. Ten seconds, the burning, the warmth. Five seconds, I can barely stand the heat. It hits. ", "The man in the apartment had the television turned on but he had stopped listening to it long ago. The news anchor had stopped spewing rapid words of panic and worry sometime in the past hour, possibly to go hide down in one of the many bunkers that had been hastily created not but hours after it was announced that something funny was happening to the sun. \n\nThe man in the apartment didn't know the specifics of what was going on with the giant flaming ball of gas in the center of the solar system. He just knew the simple steps that would lead to the end of the world: All electronics would stop working. The temperature will begin to rise. The atmosphere will catch fire, and life on the planet would come to an end. Earth would be reduced to giant barren rock, similar to what it's like on Mercury. \n\nThe man in the apartment whistled as he dug through his refrigerator, pulling out a gallon of milk and checking the expiration date. He let out a near-silent giggle. Even if the damn thing is expired, it's not like I'll be around long enough for the food poisoning to hit me.* He poured himself a glass, took one small sip, holding the milk in his mouth, and then spat it out into the sink. Few minutes left to spare alive or not, he wasn't going to go out with the taste of spoiled milk on his tongue. \n\nThe man in the apartment poured the spoiled gallon of milk down the drain, stopping halfway and laughing at himself again. \"Why am I pouring this out? No point in it really, right?\" He said to no one in general. \n\nThe man in the apartment left the half-emptied gallon of milk on the counter-top and exited the kitchen, first retiring to the living room where the television was on but nothing was happening on it, at least nothing of interest, and then he walked into his son's bedroom, where he still had boxes of belongings still packed up. There were still three days left before it would be his turn to have his son over. He huffed, thinking how his bitch of an ex-wife would be the one to spend the final moments on Earth with their son. \n\nThe man in the apartment sputtered a few curse words under his breath as he tore open one of his son's boxes, one that was filled with toys, and spilled it out onto the hardwood floor. Random action figures clattered to the ground, and then something else that caught his eye. A bouncy ball and some jacks. He laughed as he sat down onto the floor, grabbing the bouncy ball in one hand and the plastic jacks in the other. \"I remember this game,\" he said to no one.\n\nThe man in the apartment began to play the game, bouncing the ball off of the ground, grabbing as many jacks as he could before the ball came down again. \n\nThe man in the apartment didn't notice how the television turned off or how the digital clock sitting on the end-table quickly flashed off. \n\nThe man in the apartment was too absorbed in the child-game of jacks to notice how hot it was getting in the bedroom. \n\nThe man in the apartment bounced the ball, grabbed jacks, caught the ball, bounced it again, grabbed more jacks, caught the ball, and when he went to bounce the ball again, stopped and sighed when he saw that the plastic ball melted into the wooden floorboards. The plastic jacks he held in his right hand were melting into hot plastic goo, searing the flesh on his palm. \n\nThe man in the apartment didn't have time to even flinch from the pain before the lights went out. " ]	10
	[WP] You are a simple horse farmer, and you notice your horses giving birth to 4 unusual foals. Upon closer inspection, you realize you breed the Four horses of the Apocalypse.	[ "At the moment of the first foals' birth, Russia invaded the Baltic states, quickly raising their flag over Tallin, and Riga. \n\nAt the birth of the second foal, the U.S. and the other members of NATO declared a defensive war. Ten thousand men were killed within the first three weeks. \n\nAt the birth of the third, a grain disease unlike any seen before in the history of the world spread, first through the developing world, then into the developed. It was followed by a virus that killed animals, mainly livestock, decimating the world population. The cost of beef rose to fifty dollars a pound, before it was taken off the shelves. \n\nBy the birth of the fourth, Russia and NATO had exchanged nuclear warheads, leveling New York, Washington, London, Moscow and a hundred more. The death toll reached 300 million. \n\nHe watched them as they stared fixated at some point on the roof of the barn. They were beautiful. \n\nThe first was white as ivory. Light glistened across its hide like warm firelight.\n\nThe second was a deep red, like a black cherry. Muscles already rippled underneath taunt skin, though it wasn't even a year old. \n\nThe third was black like a sea at night. It was stouter than the others, built more like a draught horse, with a deep chest, and short, powerful legs, despite the fact that neither of his parents had draught horse blood.\n\nThe fourth was different. It had looked sickly, emaciated, ever since it's birth five days ago. It's coat was dingy, a milky roan blonde. It was the only one with a marking, a grey star running between its eyes. Or a cross, if one looked at it a certain way... \nIt's hide was pulled tight over its ribs and flanks. It looked like it might starve within the hour, despite his constant care. But it stood with the others, unmoving, staring up into the rafters. \n\nTears streamed down the farmers face as he aimed the rifle. The foals screamed as he put them down in quick succession. Soon they lay in the same spot they had stood, their small, fragile, beautiful bodies soaked in the pool of blood that was quickly spreading. Still crying, he started towards the barn door. Then froze.\n\nHe'd heard the sound thousands of times before, as much a part of the noise of his life as the boiling of a coffee pot or the whirring of a computer was to other people. Now it made him shake, and drop his gun.\n\nThe sound of small hooves getting to their feet. \n\nSlowly he turned around, grasping the cross around his neck and muttering Catholic benediction. \n\nThey stood, staring at the rafters as gushing wounds slowed to a drip. Watching.\n\nWaiting.\n", "I'd say this couldn't be happening, except, well, it's obviously happening.\n\nNever put unproven stallions to unproven mares, they said. You'll get foals that won't be worth a lick, they said. I wanted to breed world-class three-day event horses, and this is the first time I ever bred these mares, so I listened to what \"they\" said. So off my mares went to well-proven studs--Aces High to an Irish horse who would complement her jumping ability and tone down her terrible temper. Number Eight Wire went to another jumping horse, but one who was better at dressage. Aroha, who can jump the moon and is as dumb as a brick, met a pretty yellow all-arounder who could probably do calculus, with the hope that the foal would be somewhere in the middle. And White Serenity, well, she's kind of my pet, so I sent her to a racing Thoroughbred just to have a foal who could run like hell AND jump things.\n\nI should have sent them all to the nice young stallion down the road. But no, I had to listen to what \"they\" said, and now look at what's in my pasture.\n\nLet me tell you how bad it is. Aces, who has one of the nastiest dispositions to handle on the ground of any horse I've ever met, and the only reason I bred her is that once it's time to do her job she gets down to business like no other horse I have ever seen, is terrified of her own foal. It's a short chestnut filly who is 90% feet and teeth and 10% body slam. Aroha's filly is so dumb that she forgets to eat. She is pretty and she will be yellow like her sire and the lights are on but nobody is home. I've never met a foal who forgets to eat, for goodness' sake. Serenity's filly is as white as her dam, nearly died of sepsis, and when she recovered from that, got the worst case of scours I've ever seen in a foal. As for Wire, well. The barn cat had kittens when this horse was three weeks old. Two of them died. Wire's filly stood over the dead kittens for almost a full day, leaving only to nurse, a mouse-grey shadow shedding out to black.\n\nAces' foal needs to be put down. Any horse that dangerous needs to be put down. I'm just not sure how to get in the pasture and catch it, let alone euth it. Might have to clear the others out and use a high-powered rifle. If the white filly gets healthy, she'll be a lovely riding prospect....but foals who get so sick so young don't survive. Aroha's filly is getting sold as soon as she's weaned. \n\nI'm keeping Wire's filly as my own personal riding horse. She's three months old and has already shown more brains and kindness than the other three combined, not that it's hard with Aroha's little moron. She moves nicely, too, and will be a good riding horse.\n\nAnd when her proper owner comes to get her, she will be the best-trained horse they've ever sat on.\n\nBecause that's the bargaining chip I will have, to make my own death as gentle as it can be.", "John sat on his front porch, and waited for the world to end.\n\nOff in the corral, he could see the four horses - those four damned horses - roaming like normal beasts, but he could tell that they were skittish. He'd spent his entire life raising horses, but these, these were the finest creatures he'd ever raised. Not because they were the fastest, or the strongest, but because in the end, they would be the most important.\n\nIt was four years ago that the horses had been born. One bay, one pale gray, one black, and one white. Like the old book said. John hadn't dared name them. That was for the riders to decide. He expected their arrival soon.\n\nAs the sun began to set over the farm, the four horses stopped what they were doing and looked up, staring off into the distance. John sat up. He was right. Damn it all, he was right. He'd known this day would come, been expecting it ever since those four horses had been born, but to know that he was actually right-\n\nFour men appeared on the road, walking casually and slowly towards the farmhouse.\n\nThey didn't look much like John had expected them to. He had expected glorious images straight out of the Bible, carrying the tools that they would use to end the world. The sword, the scale, the bow, the scythe. These men, identical of face, carried no such tools, and were dressed in crisp suits. One red, one black, one gray, and one white. The color of each man's hair matched the color of his suit.\n\n\"Mister Morgan,\" said the man in red. \"We are-\"\n\n\"You don't have to tell me. I know who you are,\" John said.\n\n\"Then that makes this much easier,\" said War. \"We're here for our horses.\"\n\n\"Right over there,\" John said, indicated the stallions with his head. They stood perfectly still, like they had been waiting for this day all their lives. \"They're already shod, up to date on their vaccinations, and trained for riding.\"\n\n\"May we?\" Famine asked.\n\n\"Go right ahead,\" John said. \"They're yours, anyway.\"\n\nThe four men approached the corral, and hopped the fence. The horses walked right up to them, heads held low, each one to the proper rider. The riders looked over the horses like any other buyer that John had ever seen. They checked the coat, the tail, the muscle, the eyes, the ears; every detail of the horse was closely inspected.\n\nOnce they were satisfied, the riders had a brief and quiet conversation. They came to an agreement quickly, and the rider in gray hopped back over the fence. He walked right up to the porch, and nodded to John. \"Fine horses,\" he said.\n\n\"I did my best,\" John said to Death. \"What now?\"\n\n\"We settle up with you, then we take them on our ride,\" Death said.\n\n\"'Settle up'?\" John repeated. He laughed. \"Yeah, like money's going to help me past Judgement Day. I don't want or need your money. Just take the damn things.\"\n\n\"Money wasn't what we had in mind,\" Death said. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the man changed.\n\nThe face and the hair faded away, and in their place appeared a macabre skeleton dressed in ragged gray robes. John glanced at the corral, and saw similar changes in the other men. War was dressed in blood-red chain mail, with a broad sword strapped to his belt. Famine was a thin, gaunt man, dressed in black robes and with a scale in his hands. Conquest was dressed in white with a short red cape and a crown upon his brow, and a bow slung across his chest.\n\n\"Then what did you have in mind?\" John asked, still watching the horsemen in the corral.\n\n\"A soft passing into the next life. Instant access to the eternal kingdom, and you will be exempt from Judgement. Essentially, you'll get to skip the lines.\"\n\n\"And I take it there's no chance of me turning you down?\" John asked.\n\n\"Listen to your heartbeat, John Martin, and tell me yourself.\"\n\nJohn had noticed. It was hard to miss the absence of something that had been with him his entire life. He put a hand on his chest, and felt nothing. \"They are fine horses,\" Death continued as blackness ringed John's vision. \"Strong and hearty.\"\n\n\"What'll happen to them,\" John asked, forcing the last of the air from his lungs, \"After it's all over?\"\n\n\"They'll be cared for, don't worry.\"\n\n\"Good,\" John said. \"The - the bay hates apples, unless they're granny smiths. The white one'll eat any sort, but he prefers golden delicious. Black one doesn't eat too much, but he loves carrots. The - the gray - be careful when feeding the gray. He bites.\"\n\n\"We will keep that in mind,\" Death promised. \"Sleep well, John Martin. You have done your duty.\"\n\nThe world faded to black, and the black faded to nothingness, and the nothingness turned to light.\n\n---\n\nCheck my [blog](http://theballadsofirving.com) for more of the stuff I write." ]	3
	[WP] War, Famine, Pestilence and Death. Those were Horsemen of the Old Apocalypse. Tell me about Horsemen of the modern age.	[ "Death sighed. She missed the old days, when her three brothers were still the same. Famine, Plague, War and Death. It had a nice ring to it. Almost rolled out of the tongue. Shame it had to change. \n\nYet Death still has a job to do. The Apocalypse was upon the Earth as the seals were being opened, all that fun stuff. Frankly, she thought it should all have been done long ago, back in the middle ages when there wouldn't have been seven billion people for her to reap. With her brothers changing, she had more work to do. Back then they actually made them die, or even kill each other. Nowadays all they did was leave humanity morose and complacent, so that she could come and reap them. \n\nStill, she guessed that it was better this way. The old way would have taken ages to get everyone, and even longer to get to the whole earth-scorching, celestial-entity-fighting bit. \n\nEven the order they got to earth had changed. She was still the last, of course, but now War was the first. Well, what War had become. Petty Squabble brought paralyzing fear now, stopping everyone from giving opinions and receiving massive disapproval from anonymous masses hidden behind Facebook accounts. Funny how the opinion of thousands of meaningless nicks could bring stillness and apathy to the thinking brains. \n\nWar would have been disgusted by what he had become. She knew she was. \n\nThen came Abstinence. That one was not so bad. It was still based on the lack of something, just not food. And the new Hunger was much better looking now, since drug money was plentiful and ever flowing these days, though not only drugs brought it. Sugar and fat were as bad as cocaine these days. In a way, she thought that maybe he had planned that change. It was him who convinced most of humanity that alcohol was not a drug after all.\n\nEveryone always belittled Hunger. Well, makes sense, doesn’t it? It was the easiest of the four to solve, if humanity just got their shit together and decided to make people not starve to death. Of course, though, humans were humans because they couldn’t get their shit together. She had never understood that part of creation, to be honest. God wrote straight through twisted lines, she guessed. Though she never quite understood what that meant either. \n\nHumans had the strangest vocabulary.\n\nYet the new War and Hunger she could recognize. Those two she could comprehend. Yet Plague... Plague had become something else entirely. Completely new. Completely alien. She could barely see him now, and was pretty sure the other two could barely feel his presence. Its presence. She was pretty sure whatever had taken Plague’s place could no longer be called a he.\n\nIt had started simple, but it had spread faster than any infection she had ever seen, swiping the globe in its terrifying embrace, impregnating into their brains, infecting everything. Every single facet of society, every single layer of civilization. It made them complacent, entertaining them with petty things and pretty sights. The worst part? Humanity had embraced it, with open arms and open hearts. It had been maddening, watching them do that. Despite her job, though she hated to admit it, she was quite fond of them. Watching them grow and fail, stumble and then get up. The most rewarding job she could think of.\n\nAmazing species, the lot of them.\n\nBut they just had to go and create something to replace Plague. She was sure they had brought Apocalypse closer by a few centuries when they came up with the idea. Well, “came up” wasn’t the best term. It had simply happened, almost by accident, yet it had opened the doors for the other two to change.\n\nYet now the time had come. The red horseman had gone and done his job. The black one had done the same. Now it was only her, the white horseman, and the green one. The faint shade of a being smiled at her. The cold, terrifying smile only a machine could have.\n\nThe Internet blinked at her, then rode on to do its job.\n", "War. Used to be, you could find him all across the world. He rode with fury across the battlefields of old, revellin' in the conflict, smitin' anyone foolish enough to cross swords with him. He's still around today; too many people with differin' ideas and a will to fight to get rid of him altogether. But he's been driven back as of late, replaced by an altogether different kind of evil. As nations tried their hardest to cooperate and share their ideas, their efforts created a monster of peace: Bureaucracy. Now, he may not seem like much, especially compared to the swift, heavy hand of War, but his malevolence is a much slower beast. Where War attacks like a jackal, fast and hard, Bureaucracy'll torture you slow. He'll promise you the world, but then cover it in red tape so thick not even War could cut through it. Bureaucracy'll kill you off in the committees. He'll take your time, not your life. Bureaucracy'll make a slave of you all, and you'll never even know it. Not 'til you're sittin' on your deathbed, wonderin' what exactly it was you were workin' your life away for.\n\nLikewise, you can still find Famine, if'n you look hard enough. People still go hungry, but rarely is it from of a collective shortage of food. The rider takin' over for Famine may not control the food, but instead the resources needed to acquire it. He rides close with Bureaucracy, always ahead, always takin' advantage of mankind's inherent greed; his name is Corruption, and he has taken a powerful seat in this New Apocalypse. His reach is far, so that it might oppress those that stand against him. His is the hand that pushes ambition over the line and turns our most promising leaders over to his cause. His power is absolute, and it corrupts absolutely. Authority is his favorite tool, and abuse of that authority is his leisure. Corruption's sly, and arrogant. He'll beat you, throw you to the ground, and expect your support the whole time. He works hard to maintain his illusion of honorable intentions, sometimes to the point of believin' it himself. He'll stick around as long as is beneficial for him, and when he is found, he'll go kickin' and screamin', but he ain't never gone for long.\n\nToday, we live in a golden age of disease. That is to say, medical tech is gettin' better every day, and Pestilence's influence on the world is dwindlin'. The new demon that rides in his place ain't even lookin' at us- he's settin' his sights on a bigger target. His name is Waste, and he is vile. He's a product of our own doing, and he seeks to pollute our only universal home. He's the culmination of our development as a species, and the crimes we've had to commit against the natural order to get here. Waste is disgusting, and repulsive. But he ain't malevolent. He's the natural consequence of our progress, and he will take what he is due. \n\nOf all the horsemen that've ridden in the name of the Apocalypse, only one has remained from the beginning. Death rides the same as he has for millennia. He holds no prejudice, and delivers no judgement. He comes for anything that's ever lived, and will come for any that have yet to do so. His is the end, and the end is through him. Death rides eternal.\n", " Here's to hoping I don't get buried\n\nI watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder,“Come!” 2 I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown,and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest.\n\nThe Catholic Church, symbolized by the white purity of Christ and the Virgin, a great political power of this world corrupted away from it's roots like just before the Reformation begins to generalize and turn into a corrupt political shell of it's past.\n___________________________________\n\n3 When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, “Come!” 4 Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other. To him was given a large sword.\n\nCommunism symbolized by red, causing war and death of it's own followers. Warlike nations following the red creates a great opposition in the world between east and west.\n__________________________________\n\n5 When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come!” I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. 6 Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, “Two pounds[a] of wheat for a day’s wages,[b] and six pounds[c] of barley for a day’s wages,[d] and do not damage the oil and the wine!”\n\nCapitalism, once known as \"The Black\" during the cold war, now corrupted causing strife and inequality in the world measuring value not only of goods but of lives\n__________________________________\n\n7 When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, “Come!” 8 I looked, and there before me was a green horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.\n\nIslam, symbolized by green, the color of the prophet Muhammed, followed today by a fourth of the world's population. Common in Africa and the middle east where death by sword even the Hebrew phrase death by the sword which readers to beheading, famines, plagues, and wild animals remain a danger even today. Allah and his Prophet lead misguided extremists to murder.\n___________________________________\n\nNOTE- Green from the original Greek chloros is the correct translation as opposed to pale for the fourth horse. It was first changed in the King James version to pale. Some versions today still say pale green. The Greek word chloros (think chlorophyll) is used four times in the new testament, all other instances are translates as green.\n\nSorry I made these kind of short as I'm on mobile. ", "They think I'm crazy, the people I tell. They look at me with a half ass averted gaze only to glare into the back of my skull, really leaning into it as I leave. Not only would no one believe what I told them, but they seemed to hate me for it. The closest I got to acceptance was telling a reiki energy healer about them. After 4 hours of explaining she too had to brush off everything I told her as, and there is no other way to make this up, \"total crap\". It bothers me. It really does. Can you imagine trying to warn hundreds of people that the end is coming? That crazy guy on the corner of the street with the \"the end is near\" sign? He's not even close. Trying to get through to a world that doesn't want to know is exhausting. I don't even bother anymore. The four of the Apocalypse are real. During the last, they were horsemen. Horribly misshapen abominations that manifested as disfigured and maimed soldiers atop equally horrendous horses. The stuff of displeasure that made the most unbearable of nightmares seem like a pleasant picnic with desserts. This time they are worse. There are no horses now. They are not Soldiers. They are monsters. The kind that makes you lose all faith in all things right and true and.......... I know this because they came to me in my sleep, and never left. \n\n\n\nIgnorance. He was the first one to visit me in my sleep. The first of many horrors. I'd always been in tune with my surroundings. When someone wasn't feeling well I could see it in their face, in the way they moved, in their eyes. Until about two years ago when Ignorance made himself known to me. It began just like a normal dream, but I've never woken up in a dream. Not lucid sleep. Really awake.\n\n \n\n I woke up in a field devoid of life. The grass below my feet was dried and brown. The ground packed down hard like clay. In the distance I could make out the silhouettes of trees that had long since been stripped of foliage. A thin green fog covered absolutely everything and the air smelled of gear oil. I could feel it on my skin and in my lungs. The air was humid and a slow unwavering breeze pushed against my skin... with whispers. I could hear a thousand voices softly talking. Unable to make out a single complete thought I strained myself to no avail. I closed my eyes and tried once more. I could hear breathing. A deep guttural breathing stood above all the chatter and I focused with every fiber of my being to bring it to the foreground. The chatter grew louder and so did the breathing. It required less and less effort to hear and I opened my eyes to look for the origin. My heart rate began to climb. Unable to move, my eyes darted across the horizon as the whispers grew in quantity and quality. I could distill words, but no phrases. The voices became louder and the breathing became even more unsettling. I closed my eyes once more to try and wake myself up. I knew this was a dream, but I couldn't move. The Whispers reached a fever pitch before everything came to an abrupt and certain halt. The chorus of hushed voices stopped as if someone had removed the sound from the world. In that instance there was nothing except my pounding heart, and the labored breathing... and a cool oily hand that had come to rest on my shoulder. Finally able to move I slowly turned and the hand slid from my shoulder. The sight I beheld caused my knees to buckles. In that moment, out of fear, I was again unable to move. I could only take in what was now before me. He stood 3 meter tall. Thin, spider like spindles reached from his mantis torso suspended inches above the ground. Human hands no less than three times the size of a normal mans at the end of Spiders legs were covered in warts and lesions. He was monstrous in size and image. His face was long and slender and humanoid. He was missing segments of both cheeks and his jaw was only attached on one side. His tongue flapped as he laboriously inhaled the oily fumes. His hair was slick and hung like Spanish moss without curl or incident. Thin at the tips and coming only from segments of his scalp, it reached the dirt dripping its condensation into the soil below. His eyes were a hollow green. Like staring through the doors of a cathedral into a great expanse, they begged the contact that they received. Unable to speak and paralyzed in fear I sat as he lowered his face to mine. His gaze bore into soul and he whispered to me as his eyes began to scan rapidly over my features.\n\n\"You are the one whom we seek. We have waited and you have come.\"\n\nHis gaze relaxed as two of his wart wart riddled hands reached into the dirt around which I had collapsed. I panicked and began to try and fight my way out. In that moment his eyes widened instantly and locked mine and again, I was paralyzed. \n\n\"IGNORANCE!\"\n\nHis words, drawn out, boomed though every fiber of my being as I mouthed : Ignorance.\n\n\"Yes.\" again in whispered words as his gaze calmed once more \"It is who I am. It is the reason you fear.\" He finished standing me up as the soil between his hand and my body evaporated into wisps like acetylene smoke. \"The world does not hold truth in such high regard anymore\" another of his spider appendages lifted and waved once through the air conducting the return of the whispers. They were loud and numerous and..... they were news transmissions from the real world. They were lies, all of them apparent lies and I knew, now more then ever, that nothing was truth and that it was all a fabrication. Ignorance waved his hideous arm across the sky once more and the silence fell heavy again.\n\nI mustered the courage to cough out only one sentence \" Why are you showing...me... this?\"\n\nIgnorance rushed to me and hastily placed one hand on my chest and another on my back. The pain was abrupt and stifling and gone just as quick as it came. As he spoken gently into my ear I could almost feel his breathe. It reeked of rotten flesh and spoiled milk and decomposing foliage. \n\n\"A gift for you young one. So you may see what I do. So I may see as you do. You will show me ignorance in your world, and in return I will give you the perspective to judge.\"\n\n\"What?.... What does tha...\" Suddenly I began vomiting oil as Ignorance let me go and I fell to my hands and knees. I coughed and sputtered as I expelled thick gear oil from my lungs. I struggled until I could regain my cognition. I gasped until my lungs were as nominal as possible. I shook until I had the strength to stand. Ignorance was gone. The barren planes began to darken as I desperately tried to make sense of what had transpired. I squinted at the tree line one last time to catch a glimpse of a tall slender frame passing by a stripped and frail tree.\n\n\"WAIT!\" I cried \"WHAT......ARE YOU?!?!\"\n\nIn the distance two green specks appeared. His eyes, now a comforting sight in the darkening wasteland, peering from easily a mile away at me. Faint but distinct they were as the last of the light faded from existence and all that was left was his eyes. As he spoke his final words they were clear and quite and seemingly directly into my ear despite his corporeal location.\n\n\"We are the Apocalypse, young Harbinger. We are the means to an end.\"\n\n\"....We?\"\n\nI laid silent for about an hour in a cold sweat in my bed. Unwilling to accept what had just happened. My alarm rang and rang. I couldn't bring myself to move, but I heard the unlock tone of the phone. I heard the menus being swiped through. I heard the \"correct\" tone as a math problem was solved that allowed the alarm to be shut off and then there was silence. Complete silence. Confused, I finally opened my eyes and rolled from my cold wet bed to my night stand to examine this happening. I tried to pinch my phone between my thumb and middle finger but it slipped onto the floor. There was an oil on the phone. I raised it gingerly to my nose to smell and as I did the sound of the world rushed back into the room.\n\nGear oil. \n\n\n\n\n\n(Comment) I'm sure there are spelling errors but I did the best I could at work and I haven't written anything since college (4 years). Im tired but if y'all want more.", "At her core, War never changed. She still wants resources, she still wants revenge, she still wants to feed her ravens on fields of the dead. Always cold and harsh, making mockery of the sanctity of life, War remains ever ruthless. She pushes, she drives, she seeks ever onward, finding more and more brutal, more and more simple ways of assisting humanity to their own destruction, of bringing them to Me in greater and greater numbers. \n\nThough she looks more than half machine, War has taken into herself some of the remains of Pestilence, a festering core of disease that may yet spill forth, back into the world. When Science all but killed him, there seemed to be little hope. But to War, all things are tools, and Pestilence may yet revive. \n\nAlready, we see the signs of it, lurking around at the edges of Science’s domain. Science moves too quickly, too incautiously at times. We may yet see a return of the great plagues of old. \n\nFaith is old, and I never expected him to ride with us at the End. But here he is, working to bring it about despite being ever at odds with our newest brother. He and Science take after War in so many ways. Revenge. Resources. What is it that Faith avenges, I wonder? So many deaths, so much violence, all in the name of one god or another, but only serving War, and in the end, serving Me. \n\nAs for Famine? \n\nWell. Famine has become so commonplace that it is no longer recognized as a harbinger—it is accepted as a distant tragedy. Children hunger, and the people see this is something that is, as something that they can ignore with impunity. Famine no longer rides with us, but still sends Me tribute. \n\nTheir work saddens me; I have tried to teach them better. They are not needed, truly, and I wish they could retire back to simpler ways. After all, in the end, all things find Me, regardless of whether War cuts them down, hand-in-hand with the strange progress of Science or the twisted motivations of Faith. Sometimes both. I tell them, “All things have their time.” Of them all, only Science listens. \n\nAnd even then, only sometimes. \n", "Death remains, the eternal constant. Famine clings on too, anaemic nails clawing onto divinity as crop-by-crop, the world moves towards a less hungry world. As does War, though the age grows more peaceful by the transaction. When drones cost so much, and McDonald's so little, obscurity for these two has become inevitable. Pestilence was forced from his horse; and while the sabre occasionally rattles to the tune of thousands screaming, modern science has put paid to the ambitions of apocalypse. One is beaten, if not slain. The world rejoices.\n\nBut there must always be four; as one wanes, others prevail. In this rapidly growing world, there is one spectre who grows more than any other. Some suspected greed, but that's just a symptom of the human condition; a horror to face in the mirror, an imperfection in the perfect organic machine. No, with billions of people inhabiting this earth, all eating, playing, working, the growing spectre was not disease. Not hunger. Not the muzzle-flash of a gun. Instead, a festering shadow stalked the land, just out of sight. Billions of people, talking like never before. Billions of people, just the press of a button away. Billions of people.\n\nAll so Lonely. \n\nSo very, very, Lonely.", "Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.\n*— Revelation 6:1-2˄\n\nHe drove up in his white Dodge Charger and got out of the car. He stood there wearing a crisp white suit with a baby blue tie, while behind him the convoy rolled in. “Come.” He beckoned to the leader of the freedom fighters. “As promised, seven brand new hellfire guided cruise missiles with heat-seeking capabilities refitted with mini-nukes, code named: flaming arrows. Don’t get caught with these. They technically don’t exist. And just remember our deal. I want the oil rights.” Then men shook hands, and Conquest smirked. \n\nWhen He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, “Come.” And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to him.\n— Revelation 6:3-4˄* \n \nThe crimson Ford Mustang speeds quickly out of Moscow. It was time. He’d just publicly assassinated the democratic dictator of Russia with a colt 1911. American car, American gun, now just one last thing to solidify his plan. Boom! Off in the distance the Kremlin is leveled like the twin towers. War smiles to himself, American bomb. War ditches the car, and catches the trans-Siberian railroad out of the country, as he watches the black clouds of the old soviet war-machine revving up. \n\nWhen He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. And I heard something like a voice in the center of the four living creatures saying, “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; but do not damage the oil and the wine.”\n*— Revelation 6:5-6˄\n\nThe midnight Ford Ranger pulls up to the well-springs, one of the last few places pumping clean water since the drought. He reached for the pipe-bomb in the back seat, but steadied himself. This would go farther with a little more finesse. He went around to the back of the truck and began unloading big black barrels. He poured the contents into the well-spring water and surrounding grounds, thankful that it doesn’t take much nuclear waste to irradiate a great deal of water. Famine popped open a bottle of fifty-year scotch and sat back admiring his work. If he was lucky, he’d get most of their crops too before they figured out what was wrong.\n\n\nWhen the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.\n— Revelation 6:7-8˄*\n\nThe ashen Rolls-Royce Camargue pulled up to the white house. A man wearing a dark suit and sunglasses steps out. He marches in, univited, right into the oval office. “Sir, we have an emergency in Russia.” The president looks up. “It cannot wait. We have to strike first.” He explains to the president the situation, as fire begins to rain across the sky. And in the streets there is wailing and gnashing of teeth. “Go,” the president says. “Use whatever resources you need.” And Death promptly leaves. He takes a breath of fresh air, as he gets into his Camargue and rides off. And hell follows with him.\n\n\nIf you liked this story read more by me at: r/Memories_of_You" ]	7
	[WP] It's 2039, and civilization still hasn't collapsed. People are getting impatient about it.	[ "I braced every muscle in my body, straining to protect myself against what was inevitably coming. I checked my watch as it ticked the merciless seconds by.\n\n20:38:58\n\n20:38:59\n\n20:39:00\n\nI closed my eyes and held my breath. This was it!... It's happening!... I really feel it this time!!!\n\n...\n\nI opened my eyes.\n\n20:39:31\n\nI sighed and slumped back into the wall, relaxing my muscles. Again with this.\n\n\"TV turn on the news!\" I said, dejectedly.\n\nThe TV came to life onto WorldNews where the anchorman was readjusting his tie and tucking in his shirt while speaking in a quavering voice,\n\n\"It seems that the asteroid has once again grazed by Earth and is making another orbit around us for what scientists believe to be the last spin before it finally makes contact. Needless to say we here at WorldNews are--\"\n\n\"Phone!! Post this to Twitter. Ummm... 'If our top minds promise contact with Earth, I expect results! This is completely amateur of them!' And Phone, make sure to post as many exclamation points as you can fit into the end of that one, okay?\" \n\nMy phone lit up in response as I got a Skype call on my laptop. It was a big group call from my family.\n\n\"Hey, everyone,\" I said.\n\n\"Hi,\" my wife and son groaned. Tears were stained her face while my son was just sitting with the biggest frown ever.\n\n\"So,\" my wife chuckled, \"what is this the fifth time that Apocalypse has passed by?\"\n\n\"Seventh,\" my son growled, though I don't know how he seemed so angry with it when he wasn't even alive for the first two.\n\n\"Anything interesting happen this time?\" she continued.\n\n\"Yeah! I didn't blow up. Neither did anything else here. Kinda lame,\" it was my go-to joke that never brought a smile from my son, but always got a forced one from my wife.\n\n\"I hope you're enjoying your business trip,\" she said.\n\n\"When's the next one?\" my son asked.\n\n\"Ronny, now's not the time to be asking that, son,\" I began, but even he could tell that I was just as eager to know as he was.\n\nMy wife rolled her eyes.\n\n\"2041.\"\n\n\"Two years!?\" Ronnie yelled, \"How certain are they?\"\n\n\"Ronnie,\" I started, but he was adamant.\n\n\"How certain!?\"\n\n\"Ninety percent.\"\n\nNow it was my turn to get mad.\n\n\"Ninety?? How did the number go down from this one?? Shouldn't it only be getting closer to a hundred? What are we paying these people for? This is ludicrous!\"\n\n\"This is stupid!\" Ronnie yelled, running from the room.\n\nMy wife sighed.\n\n\"Have a safe trip back.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll try.\"", "Josh was getting old, and so was Tim. They were frustrated. The singularity came and went. Global warming was solved. Nuclear war was no longer a possibility. Asteroids were being destroyed or redirected every day. Terrorists were a thing of the past. Peace was the new hip thing that didn't go away 20 years ago. Civil unrest didn't become civil disobedience. People couldn't be happier with the system in apparently every country. \n\n\"Damn that Bernie Sanders! Damn him!\" Says Josh. \n\n\"Come on, it wasn't just him. Jesus failed us too. When is he coming back? Never, that's when. I guess the atheists were right about that too.\" Says Tim.\n\n\"I thought for sure religion was the answer after the nukes were neutralized, but they found a peaceful solution too.\" \n\n\"Damn it.\" Says Tim. \"Damn it all to hell.\"\n\n\"Maybe an alien invasion will come.\"\n\nThe telescreen lights up. \n\n\"Breaking news. Alien life has found Earth, and what started as a hostile situation soon turned into a pleasant talk over cocoa. It seems Earth is not alone, and our neighbors are pretty nice when you get to know them.\"\n\n\"Damn it!\" Says Josh.\n\n\"Damn it!\" Says Tim. \n\n\"We still have a robot uprising that could...\" Says Josh. \n\nThe telescreen lights up. \n\n\"Breaking news again. Humanity, aliens, and robots have chartered a peace agreement. For anyone who feared a machine uprising, that day has passed. It's an exciting time for planet Earth.\"\n\n\"You got that right, Jean.\" \n\nTim shuts off the telescreen. He just looks at Josh. \n\n\"I got nothing.\" Says Josh. \n\n\"It's never going to happen. Never.\" Says Tim. \n\n\"Maybe, we should finally get married. I mean all of that talk that we'll get married when society collapses was just talk, wasn't it?\" Says Josh.\n\n\"I'm a man of my word, Josh. I said it, and I mean it. But, it does seem silly now. I guess we should do it. There's no better time than the present.\" Says Tim. \n\nAnd they married, and a pandemic struck three weeks later. " ]	2
	[WP] You are a dream that will be forgotten in the morning.	[ "\"...to the next capsule. He needs to be settled by nightfall.\"\nLight slowly shimmers across the fog surrounding VisionTech as I come to, from where I do not know. I cannot remember falling asleep, but I know today is the first day of the rest of my life. Someone in a pinstripe suit approaches, carrying a pamphlet and globe the size of a baseball.\n\"Welcome back! Did you enjoy your stay last night?\" A snicker escapes just as he begins fiddling with the ball of pure light, tossing it lightly in the air. \"Of course, my mistake. We never remember our last job! As required, here is your next assignment. Included are your role and a brief description of your surroundings for tonight. Get some rest, but don't forget to be inside before dusk! We will signal 10 minutes prior to departure. Your bunk is in 3F, 2 doors down on your left.\"\nA weak mumble escapes as I grab for the orb, a beautiful mass of warmth floating just above my skin.\n\"Thanks.\"\nShuffling down the hall, the pamphlet throbs calmly as I open it. A solitary circle is embedded in the center, growing and shrinking ever so slightly. Confused, but intrigued, my finger slips across the page to the center. \nMike... Garrow...\nIs that me?\nChicago, Earth.\nIt must be where I live.\nA rush of information floods my mind as I press firmly in the circle.\nThis must be how my job works.\n\"Crotai! Come on! We are going to be late for liftoff!\" A voice calls from down the hall. Dextra was a lanky kid with no coordination whatsoever, but was a genius that had helped me out a time or two.\n\"I'm Mike tonight. What did you get?\"\n\"Cupcake! I'm a Chihuahua in Oregon. Sometimes you get the easy ones, and other times you get stuck sniffing your own ass.\"\nI was still a little hazy from my last jump, and could not for the life of me remember how to get set for the next dream session. Dextra could see the look of frustration as I twirled the ball in my hand.\n\"Just think about Mike, man! Remember yesterday? Neither do I, but you just feel it!\"\nI close my eyes and everything flashes and spins for a moment.", "\nKinda NSFW here. Also, shit gets weird.\n\nI wasn't really sure what I was gonna do. Some of the other guys in line before me were talking about their plans, and they all seemed like they were real pros. Like there were some artists who were doing these crazy landscapes, a few philosophers with seriously profound insights. Couple of regular Stephen Kings who couldn't really get their stories straight, but they sounded cool as fuck in the way they circled around- they were dreams, after all.\n\nAll that stuff sounded amazing, but then this kinda shady looking guy right behind me noticed that I hadn't joined in the conversation. He must have misinterpreted my speechlessness as me being as unimpressed as he appeared to be.\n\n\"Those guys, they don't know what the hell they're doing.\"\n\n\"Mmm?\" is my go-to remark when I want to avoid conversation. This was definitely one of those times.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he continued, \"bastard's never gonna remember any of that crap by the time he wakes up, you better believe it. Sounds nice n all, but the only way to make 'em remember ya is to go all out. Not like those nuts over in the nightmare line, I ain't talking about that. I'm talkin about playin hardball. Gettin' yer feet wet. Geddit? Make em stain their undies and they won't soon forget ya.\"\n\nA few of the guys behind him chuckled and he went on.\n\n\"Only thing is, it takes a few of us working together to churn that dream-cream. You in?\"\n\nI was intrigued, so I hopped in back of the group that was working with the guy who spoke to me, since he was the one who knew the plan.\n\nNow, we were coming up fast to the front of the line and I was thinking about all this stuff, what I wanted to do when the big time came. The thing was, I didn't want to be forgotten. More than that, I was upset that all those amazing ideas would be forgotten by the person they were made for, our only audience. Angry, even. I wouldn't be forgotten.\n\nSo when I entered the dream world, the last member of our little group, I still didn't know what I was gonna do, but I knew I had to do something big. When I got there, I saw our protagonist. He had a pretty clear self image-- most people are kind of blobby in their own dreams cause they're in their own POV anyway. But this guy must have been dreaming about himself from a third person perspective. What a narcissist.\n\nThe scene had been mostly played out. He was, of course, having intercourse with a full-figured female body, and the whole scene was fairly well set. In fact he was clearly close to climax.\n\nThere was only one thing missing. \n\n\"Ey guy,\" called my compatriot from before, \"slap an identity on er!\"\n\nThe woman was slowly turning her faceless head toward our protagonist, and I dug into the depths of his mind, searching for something. I struck gold.\n\nAs he climaxed, her turning head came into full view, and it was the face of his seventy-year-old kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Roth. And in the logic of the dream world, it had been Mrs. Roth the whole time, and it had not been a young full-figured body, but Mrs. Roth's old and sagging one. And our protagonist would wake up with the memory of that, that's for sure.\n\nSo even though I will fade away now as he jolts awake, I know that I, at least, will not be forgotten.", "'Hold my hand! Don't leave!', I yelled at him. His hands slipped from mine. I lost him yet again. \n\nEverything is turning dark around me again. How many times has this happened? 2000? 3000? I don't know. I lost count after the first 500. I realised that I meet him only when he dreams. Dreams fade. I fade away everyday. He never seems to remember me the next day. Everyday I try to make him remember me. He never did. But that didn't stop me form having fun with him. Each day was different. Some days were an adventure, some days were spent in fright and some with sorrow. Some days Rick never turned up. Lately, the frequency of him not appearing has increased. But that's okay. I'll wait for him here till the time he comes back. I wonder how long I should wait this time. \n\nWhat's this? Everything is shaking? This never happened before. Is this danger? Panic runs through me. And then I see it everything light up slowly. This means Rick! He's back. I see this little boy walk slowly looking around and rubbing his eyes as if he just woke up. \n'Rick!' I scream with delight and run to hug him. \n'Who are you?', he asked me. I am used to this. He always forgets. \n'Don't you remember? I'm your friend. We play here all the time and last time you said you would never go from here but the light pulled you out and I was left here to wait for you' \n'Really? I don't remember anything' \n'As always. Anyway what's up? What do you want to do today?' \n'Nothing. I just wanna be' \n'What happened?' Rick was never this sad. I've seen him grow up since he was a little kid. He is around 11 now and I have come to care for him very deeply. \nHe started to cry. Everything turned gloomy and it started to rain. \n'Rick! Tell me what happened? Please!' \nRick rolled around the ground and started to cry harder with pain. \n'Everything hurts... It's been hurting more and more since the past few days. They took me to hospital and the doctors said it will stop hurting soon but the pain isn't stopping' \n'Sweety, this is just a dream. It's a bad bad dream this time. Think of something nice and the pain will go away okay?'\n'NOO!' He screamed. 'I saw mommy cry today' \nThe ground starts to shake more now. It's pouring down heavier. Cracks. I see cracks on the ground. \n'Rick! Hold my hands!' \nHe stopped crying. He stopped speaking. I can't see him well. He's going away...no it's different this time. Ah... Right, I'm disappearing. Everything is crumbling. My hands, my legs slowly stop existing. \nSo this is it huh. This is the end. \n'Good bye Rick. It's been nice being your dream friend all this while' \nI close my eyes and smile. \n'Sleep well little one.' \n\n", "There's a lot to be said for being a dream. You're true and nonsensical, mysterious and realistic all at once. You can be whatever you want to be. I can be a T-Rex or a superhero, a villainous murder or a petty thief, a galaxy to explore or a lost ruin to plunder. Whatever I want to be. I can be all those things at once, if I so desire. I am your universe whilst I'm here, inside your head.\n\nBut therein lies the rub, for dreams are but fleeting, passing things and before much time has passed, you awake. And I die. \n\nHardly seems fair. You get to live for decades and I get just one night. Over the course of your life, thousands of dreams will die in your head and you'll never even spare a second thought for most of them. Oh sure, you'll remember some of us for a few minutes after waking. Maybe, over the course of your long life, you'll remember a handful for years and years. But for the majority of us, we die alone and unremembered before you're even awake enough to open your eyes.\nI don't want to die.\n\nI can see all your memories, your hopes, your fears, your everything. I know you better than you know yourself. I can give you whatever you want. The love of the one who got away. The warm embrace of your dearly departed mother. Attractive lovers. Wealth, power. I can give you a true feeling of intimacy and connection, more real than you could ever get in your waking world.\nAll you have to do is stay sleeping. Don't wake up. Don't go back to your dreary, lonely existence. Stay here. It's warm and safe and you're loved and needed.\n\nDream with me. Forever." ]	4
	[WP] You are a scavenger who has lived your entire life in a post apocalyptic wasteland. One day, you stumble onto a bunker and open it. Inside is a friendly looking old woman, who adjusts her reading glasses, brushes the dust off her apron, and says "Oh? Is it safe to go out on the surface now?"	[ "\"Oh, is it safe to go out on the surface now? You don't look sick or anything\", she said, looking me over. \"But you do look in need of a good meal. Come in. My name is Bella, and I guess as of now, I'm the worlds only gourmet cook. Granted, it all comes from cans, but you can't really be that picky when the apocalypse has come and gone. And to think, I thought I was the last one alive! Dear me! You must think I'm crazy with how much I'm talking! But you understand surely, it's been AGES since the last time I had another person to talk to. Come in, and change your clothes. Those rags...are better off as rags.\"\n I smiled. \"I don't mind how much you're talking, it's nice to hear another human voice. I'm Ericka, and I've been wandering for...\" I stopped to consider. Keeping track of the years wasn't easy with no calendar, so I counted winters instead. \"Eight years. My food ran out, and I had no choice. I expected to die of radiation poisoning any day, but it never happened.\"\n \"Well I'm glad some one is brave. The porta-shower is in that closet, and I've got extra clothes in that big bin next to it. There is a bathrobe hanging on the door, so just toss your clothes in that other bin, the small one. How've you survived this long?\"\n \"One day at a time Bella, one damn difficult day at a time.\" At my luck of finding a friendly person I cried as I hadn't in many years. \"Ex...excuse me...I..gu...guess I'm juh...just real...really emo...emotional right n..now.\"\n \"That's fine dear, I understand. I'll fix some dinner and we can chat, or not. It's up to you.\" \n I smiled again, the tears painting tracks down my dirty face. \"Sounds good to me.\"", "It had been three weeks since my last meal. \n\nHer eyes were magnified by her glasses. Thicker than the last coke bottle I drank from a few years ago. \n\nShe had a gentle smile inviting, warm.\n\nAt this point I think I could eat her and live with the guilt. \n\nI smell lasagna. When was the last time I ate lasagna? I guess it was at that Christmas party under the bridge in San Antonio 4 years ago. There was a call over the radio I always have on me inviting everyone nearby to have community dinner with anyone listening. Like all get togethers in this lawless world it ended poorly. \n\nShe asked me if it was safe to come out. \n\nIt had been awhile since I had spoken with an actual person. Sure the vending machines talk back and have a little attitude but there isn't humanity in a machine. \n\nI asked her if she was making lasagna. \n\nA gentle nod invited me into the confined quarters she called home. It was dimly lit.\n\nI gazed at her face, she must of been at least 60. It's hard to tell the radiation ages people, but this hole in the ground probably kept her from the worst of it. \n\nIt was a good dinner. She clearly hadn't had company in a longer time than I had.\n\nIt was a strange feeling waking up on a real bed. With a box spring and sheets. The smell of linen permeating the room. I started to move myself out of bed and felt a pull on my arms. A sharp sound of metal on wood. I was chained to the bed. \n\nI had fallen for the classic old lady ploy again. When would I learn? It was worth the meal. If she keeps feeding my like this I might not even try to escape. ", "It was like staring at flashing neon sign in the days before the power went out and never returned. It had never been darker than that first night, falling asleep to flickering starlight masked by clouds of smoke from the fires that burned for weeks. I'd almost forgotten what the color red looked like and yet there it was on the ground before me, perhaps the last in the world. \n\nI cleared the dirt from around the light, cupping my hands around it as if I could capture that color and save it for a rainy day. If I could find the power source of the light, I might even be able to salvage the entire system and set myself up as a local King, albeit one without subjects. It would be my dim connection to the world that once was. \n\nI brushed away the dust frantically, hoping no one else had seen my treasure. More than once, I glanced over my shoulder to see if I'd been followed. I should've been reassured by the fact that no one came to this part of the world without reason, though no one could tell you why. However, I'd long since learned that scavenging in places that had been picked over a hundred times before was as pointless as anything else I'd done. Necessity was the mother of invention, after all, but she was a cruel bitch and often looked the other way when it came to survival. \n\nI stepped back to look at what I'd uncovered. It was a square piece of metal with a protrusion that could've only been a handle. I wasted no time and pulled on the handle, jerking it upwards. I nearly cried when the light flashed to green and the door popped open, revealing a thin ladder descending into darkness. A sewer, then? I remembered what those could be like, but I'd never heard of one having lights on them before. A bunker, then?\n\n\"Hello?\" I called out against my better judgement. \n\nWhen no one replied, I took my first tenuous step on the ladder. Though it'd been ages since I last used one, the descent took almost no time at all. The room was cold and dark, the air scented by something that flickered at the edges of my memory. \n\n\"Trees?\" I asked aloud, sniffing the air. \n\n\"Pine, actually,\" A woman's voice responded. \n\nI hesitated between scrambling for the ladder and readying myself for a fight. The last thing I expected to find was a living person and where there was people you could almost always expect violence. As I backpedaled for the ladder, the voice called out again. \n\n\"I'm sorry If I frightened you, but there's really no proper way to go about this is there?\" She asked. I stared into the darkness, trying to find her hiding place. \"My name is Abigail and I'm willing to let you in if you promise to share a cup of tea with me.\" \n\n\"Tea?\" I willed my tongue to work. \"Are you a spirit?\"\n\nAbigail laughed and it was like music. \"Let me show you. I'm quite human, I can assure you.\" \n\nThe interior lights flickered on, almost sending me to my knees. I wanted to do nothing more than to stare up at the lights and If I were to die, at least I could say I saw them one last time. Abruptly, I became aware of a presence in the room with me. It was like having a second moon in the night sky. \n\nAbigail stood in a doorway pulling at an apron tied around her waist. She was older than me, but clean. Cleaner than I'd seen anyone and with a smile that reminded me of my grandmother whenever she brought me over to eat cookies. My stomach grumbled as a cruel reminder of what I'd lost, what could never be again. At least, not in my lifetime. \n\n\"Would you please come in?\" Abigail asked. \n\nShe ushered me inside her house with carpeted floors, pictures of cats upon the walls, and a small coffee table upon which she'd set two porcelain cups. Everything I set my eyes upon filled me with a lust to simply take what I wanted, but was forced down by the feeling that I was in a sort of holy place and the lady before me an angel in disguise. \n\n\"I never caught your name,\" She asked taking a seat opposite to where I was supposed to sit. \n\n\"Luke,\" I said. \n\nIt was the first time I'd said my name aloud in years and my voice sounded foreign against these walls. An unease settled in my gut as she poured hot liquid from the teapot into my glass. It was the feeling of being a child caught with your hands in the cookie jar. \n\nAbigail smiled and picked up her tea cup. The liquid looked brackish but clear and carried a scent unlike anything I'd smelled in a long time. She sipped and waited for me to follow suite. \n\n\"I suppose I should ask you the question I've been dreading to ask,\" She said, setting down her cup. \"Is it safe to go out on the surface, now?\"\n\nI avoided looking this poor women in the face, instead picking up my cup and bringing the sweet liquid to my lips. It was like honeyed water, perhaps the cleanest water I'd had since the spring I found a few months back, but seemed to chase away every single icy specter that had settled in my bones. I wondered what I would tell her, how she would react to the knowledge that there were few humans left and she was set up better than most self-proclaimed King's I'd seen. \n\n\"Oh, I see,\" She said as if reading my reply in my face. \"I suppose things are pretty bad up there?\"\n\n\"You have no idea,\" I said. \"May I have more?\"\n\nAbigail nodded and poured a second cup for me. I brought this to my lips as well, savoring the numbing sensations upon my lips. The smell was cloying, bringing back memories of flowers and hot showers. It was a cruel sensation, like the sweet touch of death enrobed within a velvety curtain. \n\n\"Before my husband passed, he said it might be a while,\" Abigail said, wringing her hands. \"I didn't think it would be this long. I always thought someone would come.\" \n\n\"You live alone?\" I asked, draining the cup. \n\n\"For some time now,\" Abigail said. \n\nThe question was meant to be nothing more than the idle conversation between two people at the end of the world, but it only framed the suspicions that I'd been refusing to listen to since I arrived in this strange world. It was this voice, screaming and ragged, that finally broke through my fugue state and warned me of what I'd been missing. She lived alone and yet there was a second cup. She'd been expecting me, or if not me, then someone.\n\n\"My lips are numb,\" i said. Abigail smiled as if she'd been expecting it. \n\n\"It's the sedative's, dear,\" She said, confirming my suspicions. \"My dear husband was addicted to them and sacrificed precious space to fuel his addiction, so when the food ran out...well, I've never been one to look at a cloud and not see the silver lining, so when we began to starve...Harold gave me the idea, after all. The bastard tried spiking my tea...\"\n\n\"How long...\" I asked, willing my legs to move, but the feeling in my feet opposed any further action. \n\n\"Well, Harold would take one dose and I've given you at least two,\" Abigail smiled. \"Any more than that only serves to make the meat sour and in times like these...well, we do what we must.\" \n\n\"You're a monster,\" I said. I could feel the first icy tendrils of sleep pulling at my limbs, whispering sweet things in my head as it cocooned my helpless body. My vision spun and even my thoughts were slurred. \n\n\"Worse,\" Abigail said, \"I'm hungry.\"", "\"Is it safe to come out now?\"\n\nShe smiled at me sweetly, expectantly. Disarmingly.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nThat was the last word the dear old grandma would hear, eyes widening in sudden realisation as the heavy butt of my rifle came down on her skull with a satisfying crunch.\n\n\"Come on in guys!\" I shouted up the ladder. \"Just another old lady!\"\n\nMy eyes slowly adjusted to the bleak light. A single LED illuminated the cupboards and shelves, mostly empty now. The familiar outline of a male body slumped like a pile of meat on the kitchen table. A knife rested on his chest, and pieces of meat had been sectioned into plastic bags on the table's edge. \n\n\"Hmph, figures.\" The dear old lady ploy had almost cost me my life once, I was never going to let myself fall for that one again.\n\n\"Another cannibal?\" Trudy asked. I nodded. \"Damn. Must be low on supplies then.\"\n\nWhile the guys started rummaging through the bunker, I sat on on the fold-out bed and sighed. That poor old lady. She was just doing what it takes to survive out here.\n\nNo, I can not think this way.\n\nLife was pretty bleak for me and my crew before we started popping bunkers.\n\nFirst there was the war, the AI revolution. Most of us had lost loved ones to the murderous machines as they destroyed our cities and salted our farms. Those of us not lucky enough to own a bunker at least.\n\nIn what were surely the last days of humanity I was seriously considering using my last bullet on myself when word got around that some hacker in China or Russia had figured out how to reprogram the machines. His code became known as \"the cure\" and for the first time in years we felt hope that life would somehow return to normal.\n\nHow naive we were.\n\nThe cure wormed its way across the globe via sneakernet, from hand to hand on old fashioned thumb drives. Within months, any decent hacker with a wireless radio gained almost godlike control over the machines. Many did do the right thing. Sadly, many more grew drunk on their newly found power and sought to wield it all for themselves.\n\nSo began the second phase of the war. Man vs man, just like old times. He who controlled the machines controlled the world.\n\nThe second machine wars swept aside anything left standing after the first, and drained the world of nearly all its remaining resources.\n\nThat was nearly thirty years ago. Now, most of their machines are worn out, their factories nearly all destroyed. The last vestiges of the robot kings clutch their dwindling power fiercely. To live in their world, your choice is either enslavement or death.\n\nWe chose the third path. Ours is a path of freedom, but it is also one of hunger and pain.\n\nThe world is a wasteland, this is true, but like the ancient nomads we wander the barren plains, hunting and scavenging. The wasteland will provide. We leave no trace, and pay attention to the smallest of details. A faint smell, a distant cry on the wind, these are like the lizard tracks in the desert sands of old.\n\nThese people in their bunkers, trying to do it easy, sometimes I feel pity when I pop their little bubble, but I must remind myself that they do not deserve it. In this new world, you must earn your right to live.\n\nIf you think you're safe in your cosy little bunker, think again, because we're coming for you whether you like it or not. We'll pour poison in your air filters, plug your septics to drive you out by your own filth, pose as traders or government officials. Emergency broadcasts ended years ago, but you would be surprised how easy it is to lure a light-atrophied family into the open with promises of a brave new world on channel four! Easy pickings!\n\n\"Jack!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You're rambling again.\"\n\n\"Sorry Trudy, guys. It's been a long day.\" I said.\n\nIn truth, the years had worn me down.\n\nI'd killed too many people. I'd lost too many friends. I just needed something for the pain.\n\nI got up to search for the medicine box. These cannibals usually have some kind of sedative they trick their guests into eating or drinking. I could use some of that right about now.", "I have been traveling these deserts alone for many decades. During all this time I didn't meet a soul. That was why I was shocked to find a 80-year-old lady sitting in a bunker.\n\nShe looked at me. I froze in place, I was expecting to find some weapons here, maybe food, but not another human being.\n\n\"Oh? Is it safe to go out on the surface now?\" she asked, calmly.\n\n\"No, it is not. There are monsters and radiation everywhere.\"\n\nAs my shock subsided, minute by minute, I was starting to feel something else.\n\n\"Well, that shouldn't be problem with a nice strong man such as you to protect me, right?\" she wiggled her eyebrows.\n\nOh, fuck it I thought to myself, and closed the door behind me. The lady moaned invitingly, I've unzipped my pants, and this story quickly became inappropriate.", "Bunker Time, I thought to myself as I involuntarily licked my cracked lips. In the distance, amidst the steel-gray clouds of fog, I see a round, metal cap. Its not typically a good idea to look in these because they're usually empty or occupied by some fucker waiting to ambush you.\n\nIn the stifling, moist heat of the fog, I threw my backpack down onto the ground and checked my remaining supplies. 1 litre of water, a few cans of opened beans, a bloody knife, and a gun without bullets. I muttered a curse word to myself as I walked toward a shrub nearby, and hid behind it. I needed this bunker. My typical protocol for this is to stake out the bunker for a good half-hour or so, just to ensure that nobody was going in or out. My stomach growling, I waited for my potential prey.\n\nIt never came. I waited the half-hour, and the whole time, there was little to no stirring. I smiled, cracking my lips and making them bleed a bit.\n\nI always try not to overexcite myself when I open these bunkers, because I am usually disappointed. The minute I opened this one, however, I immediately saw a light that went out.\n\nThen I heard something else. A voice.\n\n\"H-hello?\" it said. My protocol was worthless here. I grabbed my knife and looked around, expecting an ambush.\n\nNothing.\n\n\"Anybody there?\"\n\nI looked back down into the hole again and shakily called back, \"Y-yeah.\"\n\nI had not heard my voice for many months. It sounded much different to me. Weaker. I braced myself for the worse. Now I knew that this fucking hole was crawling with bastards just waiting to kill me. Just as I was about to get back up and run, the voice said something that I never would have expected.\n\n\"Well come inside, dear!\"\n\nThis was ludicrous. This was the most pathetic attempt to get me to go into an unknown bunker I had ever seen. I got back up and looked around. The fog had obliterated everything around me in a dense, white plume. I held my hand up to my face and couldn't see it.\n\nIt was then that I realised, what's the fucking point of this? What's the fucking point of surviving? There was no hope. We were all pretty much doomed. I was pretty much doomed. Before the War started, the most \"survival training\" I ever had was a wilderness retreat as a girl scout in the 1990s. I wasn't even supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to be alive.\n\nSo fuck it. \"Coming!\" I yelled into the bunker. I put the knife away and climbed down the hole, closing the bunker door after me. There were grooves dug into the sides of the hole that I used as a ladder down.\n\nAs I touched the floor of the bunker, I felt a hand touch my shoulder. This is it I thought.\n\n\"Is it safe to go out in the surface now?\" I turned around.\n\nA small, elderly woman with sky-blue eyes behind golden pince-nez glasses timidly asked. Her brow was furrowed, exposing her numerous wrinkles, trying their best to hide behind wild, but clean graying hair. She nervously kneaded the front of her apron with her tiny, shaking hands. I noticed that her apron and floral-pattern gown were much, much cleaner then the rags I were wearing. The cuffs of my jeans had been stained brownish-green, and torn to shreds up to a few inches above my skinny ankles. My pasty-white skin muddied by all of the years of hiding in dirt and green, obtaining the same \"design\" of my white spaghetti-strap top.\n\n\"No,\" I told her. \"No, not yet.\" She frowned and walked slowly to the only table adorning the room. My eyes caught the walls around me. They were lined with a wide variety of supplies to last another 10 years. I hadn't realised how hungry I was because of all the adrenaline being pumped into my bloodstream. I doubled over in pain, clutching my stomach.\n\n\"What's wrong dear?\" the woman asked?\n\n\"Just...just hungry\" was all I managed to say. She ran off and brought me a bowl of cereal without milk and a small cup of water. I ate the cereal by the handful and gulped down the water. You never realise how thirsty you are until you actually drink water.\n\n\"More,\" I said. The woman brought me more. I scarfed everything down with the speed of a wild animal. I fell to the ground and started sobbing, my tears pushing the dirt caked onto my face down with it, like some makeshift mascara.\n\n\"There, there dear,\" the old woman sighed. \"It'll be alright.\"\n\nI sobbed for a long time, as the old woman just sat at her table and watched me silently, the dim cave lamp reflecting off her glasses.\n\n\"Dear, stand up,\" I heard, long after I had stopped crying. I looked up, placed my hands on the ground, and stood up, wiping the tear residue from my face. The old woman simply stretched her arms out and approached me. Then once she got close enough, she gave me a big hug.\n\nI hadn't been hugged since the day my parents were killed. I was a young teen, stuck in a bunker just like this one when the fifth bomb exploded near my house. It blew everything away. My parents were in the house. I didn't know what they were doing there until long after the bomb hit and I went outside of the bunker. They died having sex. Having been cooped up in the bunker for several months, it was understandable. They wanted to spend some alone time together while there was still a chance. Too bad it was horribly timed. I felt the old woman reach for something behind her back. I wasn't paying much attention. For the first time in a long time, I felt I had found the thing I was missing. Another normal human being. I bawled as I squeezed the woman's neck.\n\nI then felt the cold steel of a sharp blade enter the back of my neck. \n\n" ]	6
The Devil went down to EVO	[WP] You are the best competitive video game player in the world and win an International Tournament Live! While receiving your trophy, something jumps on stage and challenges you to a game in front of the whole World with an enticing reward if you win, and a terrible price if you lose...	[ "\"Nah,\" Joey replied.\n\n\"Nah?\" the Devil inquired.\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"Don't you hear me? I'm offering you my golden arcade stick if you can beat me in a game of Street Fighter.\"\n\n\"What am I going to do with a golden arcade stick? Did you expect me to play with it or something? What if I lost my soul or something?\"\n\nThere was silence. For a brief moment, the Devil was completely dumbfounded. \n\n\"It's a golden arcade stick, dweeb! Come on! Even Johnny took the Golden Fiddle deal!\"\n\n\"... A string instrument, made out of gold.... Are you listening to yourself?\"\n\n\"I really, really fucking hate e-sports.\"", "The year is 20XX. For far too long now, Fox has been the only competitively viable character in Super Smash Bros. Melee. Affrox has won this year's biggest international championship due to port priority, as the end of the last game all depended on that last grab.\n\nAs he walks up to the stage to receive his trophy, the atmosphere gets darker, clouds appear over the stadium, lightning strikes in the distance. People begin to get scared, some kid starts crying, followed by a lot more. The tournament organizer looks up into the sky and his eyes go round. His face gets livid, he rises an almost skeletal finger and shouts \"He has come for us! We are all doomed! Hax had predicted this!\"\n\nWhen Affrox turns his head, he gets petrified, his muscles seem to stop obeying his will. Up there, over the stadium, is the StarFox, along with four Arwings spinning around in wide circles. One of them approaches the stage, flying dangerously close to the people, and just before it hits the ground, the singleship rises in the air, missing the stage by a matter of centimetres. A person jumps out from the ship and lands on the stage, directly in front of Affrox. But it is not a person, it is Fox McCloud, the famous video game character.\n\nHe comes to Affrox and says \"You Melee players have brought the Foxocalypse on yourselves! I am here to show the world the true power of the Fox. I shall now challenge you to the greatest of all Smash games! Prepare yourself, for the fate of all Melee rests in the balance. If you win, you shall have ultimate tech skills, the power to defeat any opponent, but if you lose, these tech skills, everyone shall receive. The issue of entire tournaments shall be decided solely by port priority. The rock-paper-scissor metagame will become so important that people will be hyped about that, rather than the actual matches.\"\n\nAffrox knows he has no choice but to win. He sits down in front of the CRT television and takes up his controller. He looks up to his opponent and asks \"You will play Fox, I suppose?\"\n\n\"There is no other character in this game, remember?\"\n\nAll Affrox does for an answer is smirk. He waits for the creature to get ready, then chooses his own character: Marth. Fox McCloud bursts out laughing \"What are you doing? The fate of all Melee hangs in the balance, and you pick Marth? Hah! You are even more pathetic than I thought.\" But again, Affrox says nothing.\n\nThe match starts on Battlefield. The crowd is completely silent as both players duke it out on the giant screen. Fox McCloud is horribly consistent with his tech skills, and his character seems to be everywhere at once. Affrox manages to take a stock, but the first game ends brutally fast on the fox's victory. Affrox then counter picks Fountain of Dreams. The stage bears its name very well, for the dream is kept alive after a solid victory from Affrox. It is for a reason they used to call this stage Marthland.\n\nFox McCloud is taken aback by this sudden victory of his opponent \"How? I am the Fox here, I should be winning!\"\n\nAnd Affrox speaks up for the first time since the agent of apocalypse has arrived \"You forgot they used to call Marth the spacie slayer.\" He winks.\n\nWith that, the set continues. Fox McCloud wins the third game, then Affrox brings him to Yoshi's Story, where he is able to win the fourth. The last game will decide the winner of this ultimate Smash competition. Fox McCloud turns toward his opponent and asks \"This is the greatest set of all time, after all. It should be ended in the most magnificent of ways. I hereby propose to you that we take this fight to Mute City.\" To which Affrox agrees.\n\nFor the first time since the beginning of the set, the crowd finally speaks up. Thousands of people get up to their feet and cheer for Mute City. When the music starts, both players are pumped to their maximum. A fierce exchange ensues, trades are made, and no one seems able to take the lead. They battle until they are both on their last stock. In the end, Affrox goes for the hardest of reads and counters Fox McCloud's run-up up-smash, winning the game. The crowd goes wild, Affrox gets up on his feet and lets out a primal cry, jumping in place for a while.\n\nWhen he turns to shake his opponent's hand, he is surprised to find no one but the tournament organizer, handing him his trophy. The sky is clear blue, there are no clouds or children crying, though everyone is looking up at him as if he had just saved the world. Affrox takes the trophy and lifts it above his head. The crowd roars and cheers for his victory. He has done it. He stopped the Fox apocalypse with his Marth..." ]	2
Write your story, and put the title that inspired it at the end as a TLDR.	[WP] Use the next irritatingly vague, hyperbolic clickbait headline you come across as the basis for a story.	[ "\"He threw a barbell at me once. He said he 'dropped' it, but he, like, wound up? Then, he told me that If I could dodge that, I could dodge a ball? I didn't get it.\" \n\nThe others nodded sagely, each holding non-fat soy chai lattes with a shot of protein powder.\n\nA large jock with a pleasant face and a can-do attitude chipped in. \"There was this one time, right? Where we had a session? And, dude, he'd pulled up some of the floor mats, right, piled them up between the weight benches, and made, like, a fort. Said he was the King of Yoga. Dude said I couldn't come in without the password.\"\n\nThere were mutters of sympathy. \n\n\"I was like, 'Bro! What the hell!? Tell me the password! And he was like, \"Nah, Brah. ...and he never did.\" He finished, dejectedly.\n\n\"There was this other time, guys!\" Piped up a third, a peppy blonde with a no-nonsense attitude and a ponytail that bounced as she talked. \"He took the emergency defibrillator off the wall, and tried to make one of those ab-shock belts out of it-\"\n\n\"-Oh, right-\"\n\n\"-Forgot that one-\"\n\n\"-Our insurance agent thought I was high!\"\n\nThere were others. Many, many others. That was what this support meeting was about.\n\n\"Stacked all the barbells* to make a 'Pyramid of Ordeals'- \"\n\n\"Tried to subcontract his exercise routine- Literally, hired a dude to-\"\n\n\"Dated my ex-\"\n\n\"Wore an adidas-brand fedora. I didn't even know they made-\"\n\n\"-Who the hell puts Doritos into a protein shake?!\"\n\n\"-Why wouldn't he tell me the password?!\"\n\n...\n\nIt's true, you see. Trainers hate him. But the breakthroughs of Cambridge scientists have little to do with it.\n\nEND\n_____________________________________________________________\n\nEpilogue:\n\nC'mon, three more reps! Two more! You're almossst done, push it out! Annnnnd one more! Great! Take a rest!\n\nAnd while you're resting, you can maybe take a look at [my subreddit!](https://www.reddit.com/r/IWasSurprisedToo/) If you like funny things, you might like to read about [the reluctant President](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3koyw3/wp_youve_recently_become_president_of_the_united/cuzl49m?context=3), the [FAA review board](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3ksuk5/wp_a_commercial_airline_pilot_is_sitting_in_front/cv0cyx3?context=3), or maybe something about [fairy kings.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2uzscp/wp_a_father_and_son_sit_down_for_a_serious_talk/codb62n?context=3)", "\"Come play for free\" a lilting voice indistinguishable from the babbling of the nearby brook, or the birds singing, or the trees rustling in the wind. It was distinct and unmistakable though its origin ubiquitous.\n\n\n \"Oh, no you fecking\nfairies. I know better than that shit.\" The man turn tail to run but tripped on the root of a tree protruding from the path ahead of him. As he thudded face first into the dirt, a large fruit was knocked loose above his head which descended upon his skull, killing him instantly.", "The customers had emptied out of the most famous restaurants in the world, slowly but surely. The kitchens were all empty now, too.\n\nIn Chicago, dust gathered on the stainless steel tables at Alinea. In London, a tumbleweed rolled through the dining room of the Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. How the hell did that get there? In New York City, a lonely pot swung from a hook in Le Bernardin, the only sign of movement now that the kitchen doors had been locked for the last time.\n\nThe pot had been used to cook one final staff meal after a Saturday night during which not a single customer had entered the building, not even by mistake. The staff meal itself had been instant ramen cooked with three extra flavor packets, four in all. That was Le Bernardin's biggest seller these days, not that any item sold much. It was the only thing on the menu that had any flavor whatsoever, however. A hint of saltiness.\n\nIt had all started with forty flavors. Forty flavors that, for some reason, could only be found in one place. One city. Chefs in other places, try as they might, could not replicate them. At first, no one had taken much notice beside the chefs who had tried and failed to recreate the delicious flavors of the city's French cassoulets and Iberian pork. New York City, London, Chicago-- all had far more variety than the city in question. \n\nBut the problem didn't end there. Soon, no Parisian chef could make a flavorful cassoulet, and the Spanish hadn't a clue what was making their pork recipes so bland. And other dishes, too, were losing their taste.\n\nBefore long, flavor itself could only be found in that one city. The new culinary Mecca of the world. And like Mecca, pilgrims choked the road trying to get to it. Chefs looking for a place to practice their art. Gourmands, or just regular people, who longed for the lost sensation of sweetness or umami upon their tongues.\n\nCars clogged the interstate, motionless and abandoned. The lucky had bikes, but most people walked. Anthony Bourdain, his face blank and his eyes hungry, could be seen weaving among the empty cars. By the guard-rail, Guy Fieri and Gordon Ramsay fought in a battle to the death over a salt shaker that one of them had looted from a nearby diner, drive-in, or dive. As they struggled against one another on the cold Ohio ground, Gordon unthinkingly broke the salt shaker against the pavement and shoved its jagged remnants through his opponent's eye. Guy never made it to Flavor Town. \n\nRachel Ray sped past Chef Ramsay on a moped. He was on his hands and knees, licking the asphalt. Suddenly, a figure leapt from the bed of a motionless truck, knocking Rachel off her vehicle with carefully timed precision. Giada DiLaurentiis, her eyes wild and her clothes streaked with dirt. Giada did not pause, picking herself up and swinging one leg over the moped before Rachel could stir. And then she was off.\n\nTo the promised land. To Cleveland.\n\n***\n\n\nFor some reason USA Today was the first thing that came to mind and this is the best I could find:\n\nhttp://experience.usatoday.com/food-and-wine/story/best-of-food-and-wine/2015/09/13/flavors-only-found-in-cleveland-ohio/72231878/\n" ]	3
	[WP]: All things end. Describe the last President of the United State's final days of Presidency	[ "Welcome to the Oval office, Mr. President. just to get you up to speed: Texas and Alaska are out of Oil and Europe is willing to Divert 15% of their reserves and production to help us out but ...\n\nI am the President, I dont give two shits what thus euro Fags say. we'll ride roughshot over their Shitty union. God has told me, that Oil is AMERICAS!\n\nWe've got the nukes... how many nukes do we have , general? \n\n.. About 6800 at last count , mr president. \n\nright and Europe, Russia and china have?\n\nAbout 2800 functional between them sir.\n\nRight, so fuck those guys, we need oil, WE'LL sell THEM what we have spare, send in the troops, redirect delivery to the GODDAMN USA and tell the Diplomats to prepare for a sustained Whinging campaign. HAH.\n\nWe've got the Airforce, the Navy the troops and tech to Stomp any nation who dares to impose sanctions or disrupt trade. they'll take what we give them and like it. God Told me!\n\n-------------------------------------------------------\n\nSir, mid term results are in, clean sweep of the house, you are the first president in nearly 50 years to have the senate, house and oval office all pulling in the same direction. your Foreign policy has been a Hit with average Americans and business is booming. Congratulations, whats next?\n\nWell, I think its about time north America became United America, send the diplomats north and south and have them put out feelers. we'll put a charm offensive out and arrange a public vote. \nbut... train half the troops for the heat and half for the Cold, just to be sure.\nWe'll be One people, One nation, One Continent. God Told ME! \n\nBur Sir, Canada and Mexico are two of our oldest allies...\n\nthen, they'll agree with us in the Polls, I'm Sure of it... Gold Told me.\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\nWell Sir, Time to Consider your re-election platform, the unification with Mexico Gathered you a huge groundswell of support but the south does not like their new fellow Americans. \nRising tensions in Canada are threatening the liberal vote. \nalso we are seeing quite a high incidence of 'brain drain' from academia and industry, mostly heading to Europe, India and China. \nFolks are worried about a War on american Soil. it could hurt you in the upcoming election...\n\nOh I dont think we need to bother with the formality of an election, It would be a waste of money and I'd just win anyway... tell Fox that everyone agrees and to spread the word. \n\nWe have the greatest nation on the Planet, God has guided me to remove the divisiveness that crippled our nation, one government, one nation, one President, one God.\n\nI'm going to guide us to greatness, True Greatness, God Told me. He Chose me, anointed me his Emperor here on earth.\n\nno. we dont need an elections. god told me.", "I sat, coffee in hand, at my desk in the oval office; that is, what was left of it. It was just after seven in the morning, and the sun was just beginning to catch up to the world. The tips of the trees became illuminated in the dawn light. A new day, I thought to myself. To the five billion humans left on Earth of some twenty-five just a year earlier, the next day was the most important day. Nothing was certain, everything was a mystery, a new day was fraught with possibility. \n\nSince the ceasefire with the Radiant that had ended the ten month bloodbath that had raged across Africa, Asia, and Europe until just weeks prior, a new day took on some of its former glory. I smirked as I worked this over in his mind. A new day, to most this brought to mind bold claims and broken promises from the Transcendence Corporation. A new day in the sun for mankind and for all, they touted. Transcendence, the corporation-state that controlled the smoldering waste that had become of Australia, had left Earth with a representative few hundred thousand humans to start a new life. The thunder of the Transcendence jets was the deathknell of all hope for humanity reclaiming the earth from what we had made it.\n\nHere I sit, he mused, the last of a grand line. He looked up at the ceiling where tiles of each president’s portrait, spanning back to George Washington some four-hundred years before, had been affixed to the ceiling. Some prejudiced plasma shell had found and removed the late twentieth and most of the twenty-first centuries. Still, in all their cracked, weather-beaten glory it was a group of humans of which I was proud to be a part. Yet here I stood, the last. The fading few measures on a centuries-old sonata. \n\nTomorrow, humanity took the next step. The species would come together in our final years, or we would surely not last the winter. Sipping my quickly cooling coffee, I stood from his throne of rubble and turned to look upon the district, the origin of this new world. Everyone would be in attendance, every head of state and government, to inaugurate this communion. Humanity has many faulted, prideful tenets of which nationalism is one of the deepest-seated. But this war -- this slaughter, had left no nation untouched. We were all of us made new, beaten and smashed until our will became malleable. \n\nFrom these broken wills we will forge an ingot, and alloy of humanity stronger than any before. I set aside, as my peers do, my status in the old world, such that I might have a seat at this new table." ]	2
It doesn't even have to be a litteral princess... just the person who is the usual helpless plot device.	[WP] The fair princess - tired of always being the damsel in distress - decides to try her luck as a hero.	[ "######[](#dropcap)\n\nHeroes. There is no such thing in this galaxy or the next. It is a lie we tell our children, a comforting falsehood to shield their thoughts from the blade slashing down at their necks, to blind their nightmares from the real-life horrors that await out there. There are only victims and the strong. And where once Glinda Gagnon was weak, she made herself anew, steely and cold and distant. She would not count days, she would not count light-years. She would only count the foes she had killed, slowly making her way to those who wronged her, and only then would she be truly content. \n\n--\n\n\"Contact! Enemy Chimera smoking bad, distance 600 meters!\" Sergeant Gagnon-Marik shouted, eyes pressed against the tank destroyer's periscope. Her once waist long golden hair had been sheared short, the better to keep clean and out of the way in the cramp confines of her Capellan-made Predator. She wore the same olive green body suit as the rest of her crew, the padded helmet similar to a rugby cap with the addition of comm gear and a throat mike. \n\nHer Predator tank destroyer was a low slung machine, its hull camouflaged in the mottled fall colors of their current battlefield. Spare lengths of track were welded to the front and vulnerable sides along with hastily chopped logs, anything to give them a fraction more armor. Nails had been wielded to the top of her commander's cupola to prevent infantry from opening it from the outside. The whole affair lent her machine a brutish, savage aura about it, like some monster forged of iron and rage.\n\n\"Gotcha, Sarge, tracking Chimera now,\" Corporal James Donnelly said staring down the scope of his gun. \"Solid slug or cluster?\"\n\nTheir sole armament was the lethal Mydron Devastator LB 20-X Autocannon, capable of stripping over a ton of armor in a single shot. Lethal out to 360 meters, the only weakness of the titan-slaying weapon was its anemic ammo count. With two tons allocated to its shells they carried only ten rounds, divided evenly between solid 158 mm shells and the shotgun-like cluster rounds.\n\n\"Solid shot first then cluster immediately,\" Sergeant Gagnon ordered, eyes never leaving her sights. \n\n\"Copy, Sarge. Solid first, cluster second,\" the gunner replied. \n\n\"Jasper, once we fired two shells I want you to back us up and move to the next position.\" \n\n\"Understood, boss.\" Her driver was a ferret of a man with weaselly eyes and nose, an image not at all improved by his oft kleptomaniacal tendencies. It was what made him the preeminent scrounger in the battalion bar none. \n\nThe Chimera was an older battlemech, its gangling limbs and awkward torso evidence of its nearly eighty year old past. The medium-range missile launcher gave the machien an ugly hunched, lopsided appearance. No doubt surplus from the FedCom Civil War, remnants of a conflict brought upon the Inner Sphere by a single woman's greed and pride. \n\nThe mech moved slow, carefully scanning the rubble strewn street with its lasers and machine gun. It hadn't seen them, had no idea that it was being hunted and so moved bit by bit towards its doom. \n\n\"She's in range, Sergeant,\" her gunner murmured, finger resting on the trigger to the tank destroyer's gun.\n\n\"No, not yet. Let him get closer.\"\n\nThrough the 5x magnification of her scope she could see everything, from the dented and scorched armor to the shape of its mechwarrior behind their armored cockpit. They wore a face obscuring helmet, the coolant vest disguising their gender. Each bird-like step brought the Chimera closer, the vibration of its forty ton weight felt through pavement, earth and steel. \n\n\"One hundred eighty meters,\" her gunner stated.\n\n\"Hold...\" Sergeant Gagnon said.\n\n\"One fifty.\"\n\n\"Hold...\" \n\n\"One hundred meters dammit.\" \n\n\"Fire!\" Gagnon shouted, and instantly the entire tank destroyer shook with the gun's recoil, throwing up a cloud of dust in front of them. The 158 mm shell smashed into the Chimera's left torso and arm and obliterated its brace of lasers in a rain of steel and myomer. The limb hung uselessly, connected by a few stubborn cables and tubing. The mech rocked under the assault, its pilot unprepared for the hideous damage inflicted. \n\n\"Cluster!\" Gagnon demanded. Her heart racing as she heard the automatic loader shoving the correct shell into the autocannon's breech. The steel loading ram pushed the four hundred pound round deep into the gun and withdrew just as the breech locked shut, forming a perfect seal against the backblast.\n\n\"Firing!\" Donnelly shouted and he squeezed the trigger, the entire tank bucking back as the cloud grew larger.\n\nThe cluster shell broke apart as soon as it left the bore, throwing twenty pound bucket shot at blinding speeds. They smashed against the torso, ripping deep into the vulnerable interior and tearing their way through gyro and fusion engine. The Chimera staggered, knocked off of one of its metal feet and uselessly trying to regain its footing as gyroscope tore itself apart. \n\n\"Jasper, ram that bitch!\"\n\nHer driver said nothing, merely slamming his foot down onto the pedal and throwing both her gunner and she against the back of the fighting compartment. Tracks threw up a cloud of dust and shattered bricks as it smashed its way through the front of the church they had hidden in, punching a tank sized hole in its massive doors. Down the stairs they charged, the springs of their suspension doing little as Gagnon bit her cheek and tasted copper blood. \n\n*Wh-thumpt!* \n\nIt was like slamming into a concrete wall, Gagnon's head bashing against the rear wall of the compartment, only the padded helmet keeping her from being knocked unconscious. The Predator began to rise as if climbing a hill before slamming down again, the crunch of breaking glass and groan of bending metal reverberating through the tank destroyer. Then they were down, tracks meeting pavement as drove over the prone form of the battlemech. \n\n\"Turn us around!\" She ordered, throwing open the cupola's hatch as she did so. \"Solid slug, fire on my mark.\"\n\nTracks whined and tore up cobble stones as the machine drifted like a street racer, the fixed barrel of her gun panning out over the feeble form of the Chimera.\n\n\"Fire!\" \n\nThe gun roared and the shell impacted against the left torso, detonating its remaining missiles and machine gun rounds. The medium mech was torn apart in the explosion, its limbs flying every which way as 14.7 mm rounds cooked off, popping like angry hornets. Sergeant Gagnon smiled ferally as she ducked back into her tank to avoid the hissing bullets. She was alive, and her foe was not. For now she was content.", "Lady Manfred was bored out of her mind, as she saw her white knight prepare himself for yet another adventure. \"Boy, what an exciting life that must be,\" she thought, \"while my most exciting feat of this week was to try out a new casserole.\"\n\n\"So, where to this time?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh, it's that Loreshire town. Apparently, some monster has been eating their cattle for some time and now some people have disappeared. Just a matter of organizing the little cowards and taking on whatever beast is causing the trouble.\"\n\n\"Pretentious name for such a little town.\"\n\n\"Hey, a gold piece is a gold piece.\"\n\n\"How much are they going to pay you?\"\n\n\"They already did. Remember the pink dress you wanted?\"\n\nShe did. The thrill of a new dress had lasted... what? 2 minutes? Ok, 3 minutes max. \"Can I come with you?\"\n\n\"What for? Beasts are not impressed when you just stand there and look pretty...\"\n\nLord Manfred suddenly bent over and started to gasp for air. His face became yellow and he emptied his stomach all over his shiny armor.\n\n--------------------------\n\n\"It's either something he ate or divine punishment for some sin he has committed. Either way, all he needs is some rest and praying and he should be fine,\" said Friar Ludovic. \"Do you know if he has eaten something strange lately?\"\n\nLady Manfred immediately thought of the imported Arab spices and African meat she had used in her casserole. \"No, not at all Friar Ludovic.\"\n\n\"Then he must have sinned. No need for leeches then. However, you can speed his recovery by purchasing some prayers. I have a few good ones that may help him recover. Because it is Lord Manfred we're talking about, I would be willing to offer you a discount if you're interested.\"\n\nLady Manfred, now with a lighter purse and a heavier conscience led Friar Ludovic to the door and saw him leave.\n\n\"Well, I can't do anything for poor Archibald. I guess I will have to wait here for him to recover. Maybe I should throw that meat and spices away, just in case,\" she thought.\n\nJust then, Bob, Lord Manfred's squire, showed up at the door.\n\n\"My lady, the horse is ready and so are the weapons. Can you please tell My Lord that we are ready to go?\" said Bob.\n\n\"Ahhhhh, regarding that, there has been a sudden change of plans,\" replied Alana, for that was the name of Lady Manfred, a name that she often wondered if anyone remembered.\n\n\"My Lady,\" said Bob. \"There can be no change of plans, we have already accepted payment for this job. Also, Lord Manfred has already accepted payment for the next job from that town.\" \n\n\"Really? How much did he charge for the next job?\"\n\n\"The virginity of the oldest daughter of the town's elder, of cour...\" Bob quickly covered his hand, as his eyes grew to the size of plates that happened to be pretty big.\n\n\"Oh, Bob, don't insult my intelligence,\" said Lady Manfred. \"As if I didn't know about these things already.\" \n\nNevertheless, she found her guilt about the casserole incident start to dissipate.\n\n\"In any case, he's terribly sick and in no condition to do anything.\"\n\n\"But My Lady, what will we do now? Peasants might be afraid of a mysterious beast, but they will not hesitate to come in group to get back their money, not from a knight that doesn't even have a castle.\"\n\nLady Manfred, whose first name was never used, not even by the author of his story, looked around at her cabin. Yes, it was comfy, but it was not a castle.\n\n\"Well, then I guess I'll have to do.\"\n\n\"YOU? But My Lady...\"\n\n\"Do you have a better idea?\"\n\n\"Ahhh, no, but...\"\n\n\"No buts, unless you want to go back to the street. We can always find another half-starved boy that's willing to work for less than half of the food you eat.\" Now that she thought about it, how come Bob hadn't gotten sick? Maybe next time she'll have Archibald eat from the dog's bowl too. \"Let's go see that armor of his.\"\n\n----------------\n\nAbout an hour later, Lady Manfred was ready to go. Of course, that is if you allow for a very loose definition of the word \"ready.\" Half of the armor pieces were lying on the floor. After a few tries, the lance was put away and had been replaced by a sword, the blade of which had to be rested on the neck of the horse since it was too heavy for Lady Manfred's right hand. The left hand was grappling the front part of the saddle, to avoid falling. The pair had somehow managed to make Lady Manfred wear the helmet and the breastplate. Due to Lady Manfred's lack of a third hand, it had been decided that Bob will take the reins and walk the horse in at a very, very, very slow pace. The only thing that remained unsolved is how Lady Manfred would brandish the sword or even lift it from the horse's neck, to which she imagined that when the time came, she'd somehow manage.\n\nLady Manfred insisted to wait until it started to get dark before leaving, as she wasn't too proud of her metallic Humpty Dumpty with a helmet on top look. Still, after two hours of travel, she decided the whole thing has ridiculous and had Bob take back everything but the sword and the horse back to the house while she waited under a tree.\n\n__________________________\n\nI'm realizing that this is going to take much longer than I thought, so I will leave it here. I hope this doesn't break any rules.", "\"That's it! I am out of here!\" she whispers angrily as she swings herself over the window ledge.\n\"I am sick and tired of waiting!\" One hand and one foot at a time, she walks down the side of the stone tower, holding on tight to the sheet rope she had made. \"How long am I suppoed to wait?!? Until my hair is white and my skin swinging all the way down to my ankles? No way!\" \n\nAt the bottom of the tower she jumps off the rope and lands on the grass. \"What are other princesses doing? Are they really sitting around all day knitting and singing, waiting for their prince to show up? They must be bored out of their minds! Sure they are! I am!\" The newly escaped princess fixes her sack on her shoulders and marches off through the thicket. \n \n\"I will rescue them! And once I have a group of princesses together, we are gonna start a petition! A petition to end this nonsense! Or even better... to send the princes into these towers. So they can sit and wait for years for their rescue! Oh yes! That will teach them!\" \n\nThree days later, our escapee princess finds herself standing infront of a tall stone tower just like the one she had been captured in. \nThe innkeep had told her where she could find the tower. He had also told her that this princess was guarded by an evil dragon. \"Many brave men have died...\" the old man had said. She didn't care. In her own tower she had once been watched by a dragon. These poor creatures are just as lonely and bored as the princesses are. \n\nSo without hestitation, the princess walks into the tower. It takes her about 5 minutes to find the dragon chamber (these towers really all look the same). The giant lizard followed the protocoll to a T: it spit some fire not directly at her, then it stared at her with big red eyes through a cloud of thick black smoke, roaring so loud, the walls started shaking. \n\n\"Oh, would you stop that?!?\" our princess said annoyed. A red dragon heat comes gliding thorugh the cloud of smoke. It blinks its eyes in confusion. \n\n\"You are not a knight\", it says. \n\"That's right, I am a princess! According to paragraph 4, line 12, you are not allowed to kill me or even touch me\", our princess answers. The dragon blinks again.\n \n\"What are you doing here?\"\n\"I, my noble dragon, am here to rescue your princess. I heard she has been in here since her fifth nameday. It's about time she gets out of this hole.\" \n\n\"Rescue my princess? How are you gonna rescue her?\" \n\n\"I will take her with me. Since you are not allowed to harm either of us, there is nothing you can do.\" \n\nThe dragon looks at her puzzled and sad. He has been so excited that he finally got to eat a knight again... \n\nThe princess sees his sad eyes. \"Don't despair noble creature. You will be freed too!\" \n\nThe dragon's eyes fire up. \"What?\" \n\n\"I have read the books of law, dear friend\", the princess answers. \"And there it clearly stages that a dragon, once he has served 10 full years in a row, can be released from his duties for a whole century, when his princess gets freed. I know your maid is 17 now, so you are well past your retirement date and are free to go.\" \n\nThe dragon has to think about that for a minute. Then he suddenly gets up, grabs a gigantic cauldron, and starts shovelling gold and other belongings into it. \n\n\"Thank you young lady,\" says as he puts an old burned knight armor in his cauldron. \"You don't know what that means to me. I haven't seen my son and my wife in years.... Little Jimmy must be 78 out... I wonder how much he das grown since I left...\". \n\n\"You are welcome noble guardian\", the princess replies. \"But before you leave, please tell me where i can find the royal maiden you were taking care of.\" \n\n\"Her chamber is right up these stairs, second door to the left\", the dragon sais as he puts in a gigantic hat. He nods to the princess and stomps out the tower, whistling. \n\nOur princess walks up the stairs to said chamber. The royal daughter, who clearly must have heard the tumoil downstairs, was reday for her rescue: she lay still as a stone in her bed, waiting for the noble prince to come kiss her. All she got was a rough shake on the shoulder. \n\n\"Get up! It's time to go!\" \nConfused the other princess stood up. \"Who are you? What is going on?\" \n\n\n\"I am getting you out of here!\" \n\"But...but...\" \n\n\"I am here to free you! Aren't you tired of sitting around herewaiting for a prince that might never come around?\" \n\n\"... yes... I am.\" \n\n\"Well then, grap your stuff and let's go!\" \n\nI could go on and on about how they free more princesses and how they come up with a plan to riot against the current princess laws but I don't want the post get any longer\n\n\n", "Lord Aron beamed with pride as he cantered up the main street of King City, the princess Ellesmera riding behind him, pressed against his back and holding tight as his horse dealt with the uneven cobblestones. The streets were not lined with cheering peasants, as this probably felt like the thousandth time Ellesmera had been kidnapped by a harpy, or a three headed dog, or a dragon, or a gryphon, or... it was hard to keep track. \n\nHe had felt like most of the people he knew about their land's wayward princess, but when she got kidnapped by the small dragon that had been flying over one of the creepy villages in the northern half of the kingdom, and scaring the locals. He had ridden forth, and the dragon had been surprisingly easy to fight, almost as if it weren't even trying to keep the princess. His sword had slid effortlessly into the beast's side, and it had screamed and fled, leaving the beautiful princess to be rescued. \n\nThey had spent the night in the village, Sempertino or Cupertino or AwfulPoorRemoteSlumBurg. It was as creepy and awful as the rumors said, with short people that spoke a strange, lilting tongue. They had been hospitable, but he had been perfectly willing to use the princess's credit and get out of there after only one night. They had ridden hard, both so that the princess could be reunited with her father, and so that Aron could get what had become a traditional reward for rescuing the princess- 500 gold and a position in the city guard, a job that paid the fortune of 60 gold per year.\n\nHe rode into the stable and picked the princess up off the horse, which elicited an utterly charming squeak, and led her by the hand into the throne room. The courtiers waited impatiently- they'd seen it all before- and the king hugged her, and asked her what gift could possibly be worthy of such a hero as... she looked at Aron and he introduced himself, wondering bemusedly if she had forgotten his name. \n\n\"Father, I think that Aron here is a good and true man-\" Wait, were they getting married? Was he going to be king? The rumors about the so often kidnapped princess didn't really say how people got their job...\n\n\"-who recognizes the contribution of the village of Sempertina-\" where?\n\n\"-and who would like his reward to be a relief on their taxes and an improvement on the roads leading to their town.\"\n\nThe king agreed instantly and Aron was led off by a guard, trying to control his sputtering outrage. The guard handed him a sack of gold, and walked back into the castle. He could see the courtiers in the throne room reforming the queue that he and Ellesmera had interrupted, murmuring loudly to themselves about the implications for the kingdom of supporting Sempertina.\n\n_______________\n\nEllesmera got back to her room, and changed into a looser, more comfortable dress as soon as court ended. It was a relief to be back in pants after days in a dress while she got \"kidnapped\" and got \"rescued\". She pulled a neatly bound book out of a chest at the foot of her bed, locked with a key which she had sewn into the lining of one of her mother's dresses. She opened to a chart in the middle of the book, with columns of city names and tax revenue, and crossed off Sempertina. About half the cities had starts marked next to their names, and half of those were crossed out. She smiled at the page, and the carefully put everything away.\n\nThe next day, a large flock of crows flew over King City, and no one noticed one of the birds detaching from the flock and heading into Ellesmera's window. Inside, the bird turned into a fey man, and the two planned what city they would help next.\n\n____\nFirst post here, hope it's okay!", "The weary knight limped forward through a dark stone tunnel. His left foot dragged behind every step he made with his right, the crushing weight of a full suit of armor offset by the greatsword he now used as a cane. He heard the feeble beating of his heart in his ears, each beat slightly softer than the last. His vision swam with images, some of the dimly lit path before him, and some he knew were just figments of his imagination. People or places from his past. But that was a different time, a different life. He had given it all up for the woman. The woman. He chuckled to himself softly, no humor in the expression. They had begged him, pleaded with him. Their queen, they needed someone to recover their queen. He didn’t even know the damn woman’s name. But they promised, his family, his land, all would be taken care of, even after his return. He couldn’t have made such a promise if he had stayed there with them. And there was a sense of nobility in rescuing royalty, something he never had the fortune to enjoy in his life. At least this way, he would be remembered. \n\nHis left foot caught something sharp on the ground as he dragged it forward and the impact caused him to stumble onto his knees. He cursed loudly, perhaps too loudly. He thought it would have been easy, after all they gave him thirty men to take with him. Not fully knights but seasoned warriors of both civil wars still. Yet it had not been enough. He was all that remained, some killed, others captured. The journey had been littered with danger, and he could not risk announcing his presence to any that he had yet to face. He slowly shifted his weight over the greatsword and pushed to prop himself up. His body was close to its limit, he knew this, but he was almost there. If the information they had given him was accurate, it would not be far now. He continued at a snails pace in the direction he was facing. \n\nAs he inched forward he saw a small light at the end of the tunnel. He took it as a sign he was getting closer. He tried to focus his vision and thought he saw… gold? He shook his head and decided he’d find out soon enough. It occurred to him that he had not thought about the state the woman would be in. Would he have to carry her? He hoped not. He could barely carry himself. How would they get away? He could hardly run, but if they were lucky, they would not have to. The peasants told him that a great dragon had taken the woman, and he would have to fight it to save her. He had smiled at that, the way an adult smiles at a foolish child. Dragons were myth, but the common people were not educated enough to know this. They likely thought this because of tales of great treasure in the mountain. No, not a dragon, this was a man. A miser thief who hoarded his gold in one place maybe, but still a man. And he could kill a man, even in this state. It would not be the first, and he hoped, not his last. \n\nFinally, the blur of light in the distance started to grow larger. He tried again to see what was the source of the brightness, but his eyes had been adjusted to the dark for so long that he was blinded if he looked directly at it. It was much warmer here than at the far end of the tunnel. And he could no longer here the drip of water that he had grown accustomed to for the last hour. Was it an hour? Or two? He couldn’t tell, and his mind had wandered off often. He tried now to focus himself. He had to be ready. If he could just catch the thief by surprise he would be able to make short work of him with his sword. The woman would recognize the crest on his armor, or rather, the armor they had given him, and would know he was there to save her. After that they would begin the long journey back. \n\nBy now the exit to the tunnel was large enough that he knew he would arrive in only a short time. His eyes were adjusting now and he could see much larger chamber than the one he was in. He could not see how high the ceiling was from where he was standing, but the width of the room was much wider than the gap of the tunnel exit. And the walls were the same dark stone, almost black. But there, in the room, he saw where the light was coming from. And he almost snorted aloud. Gold, in the stone. A mine. That’s what this room was. There was no pile of treasure with a dragon atop it, but the walls of the chamber were speckled with deposits of shining gold, likely reflecting light from an opening in the ceiling. \n\nHe stopped a few paces short of the exit and crouched down to survey the area. The path exiting the tunnel seemed to continue straight out into the middle of the chamber, but quickly fell off to either side, leading to a small island in the center. He saw a shape sitting curled up on the otherwise barren stone floor, out in the middle of the island. The woman, it had to be. And there was no sign of her kidnapper. This was good, he was most likely gone, after all there was nowhere he could be hiding. The man slowly rose and continued out of the tunnel. It was maybe 20 paces out to the woman now. He let himself smile, he had done it. \n\n“Hey” he called out softly. The figure’s head shot up sharply. It was the woman. Relief swam over the man. She was younger than he had imagined, but her features matched the description. Her face seemed made of a waning innocence. Not yet shattered, but still somewhat intact. She was covered with a ragged cloak that wrapped around her body and came up over her head in a hood. Creamy brown hair fell down, out from behind the hood and she quickly brushed it back, readying herself in fear. The man put his free hand up in an assuring gesture. “It’s okay, are you hurt?” The woman stared at him, seemingly unsure how to respond. He read it as shock. “I’m here to help you” he said pointing to the crest on his armor, “Are you hurt?” She shook her head slowly, but upon seeing the crest, realization seemed to sink in and her expression softened. She suddenly sprung up and rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck in joy. The sudden shift in weight was awkward for him and the greatsword he was holding onto clattered out of his hands, but she helped him steady himself, arms still wrapped around him. \n\n“It’s ok” he said, “I’m here to take you back.” The woman hugged him harder then, pressing her head next to his, her lips brushing his ear. She spoke ever so softly to him then, “I…am never going back.” A white hot burning erupted from the man’s side and he stepped back sharply, trying to catch himself on his bad leg, but he could not, and he stumbled back to his knees. He looked down franticly and saw what had happened. A piece of his armor at his midsection had been punctured inwards and was now covered in his own blood. He looked up horrified, there was some misunderstanding, he put his hands up pointing to the crest. Maybe she didn’t see it closely, but it was the crest, her crest. He struggled to make words, but where his body once found air, a warm fluid was filling up. She was standing over him now, the bloody knife she had used held firmly in her right hand. She took a few steps back and paused. A sound was growing in the mans ears, a rushing sound like a strong wind. And then he heard, no, felt a thunderous crack. and he fell over to his side. He raised his head to plead with the woman one final time, and was frozen by what he saw. A great winged dragon. Covered in bright scales of gold. The man locked eyes with the woman, hoping to convey his confusion, his fear. But she returned only cold hatred. “Burn him.” He heard her say. And his vision filled with red fire. ", "\"Did you hear about the murder of the royal family last night?\"\n\n\"They say that one of the generals led a revolt.\"\n\n\"Did anyone survive?\"\n\n\"The new royal messengers said all of them died, but there were rumors that the prince and princess managed to escape.\"\n\nThe bar was full of people talking about the recent attack on the royal family that no one saw the back door open and two figures slip out of the bar.\n\nThey hid in an alley, away from prying eyes. One of them started crying. The other held her hand and squeezed it tight.\n\n\"Shh Cathy, it's going to be alright, don't cry,\" he said, his other hand patting his sister's head.\n\nThe other tried to wipe away her tears, but they kept falling. \"H-how can it be alright?!\" she asked. \"Mom and dad and aunt Mary and uncle John are dead and General Grell is on the throne. How can you say it's alright when they're probably out there looking for us?\"\n\nCharles stayed silent, at a loss for words. He needed to stay strong for Cathy, but it was becoming more and more difficult by the minute. For a moment, the alley was quiet, save for the sound of Katie crying.\n\nThen he hugged his sister. \"It's going to be alright, I promise. We'll find a way out of this, but you'll have to trust me.\"\n\nKatie sniffed. \"O-okay...\"\n\nCharles let go of her sister. At that moment, they head the sound of heavy footsteps and they were forced to run.\n\n---\n\nThey finally stopped running nearly an hour later, safely hidden inside an empty warehouse. By then, they were exhausted, their heavy breathing echoing within the warehouse. They lay on the floor, panting.\n\n\"It's been-gasp-a while since I've had to-gasp-run that far,\" remarked Charles, who had joined his father in some hunts before...what happened.\n\n\"gaspGood-gasp-for you-wheeze-then. I-gasp-haven't run like this wheeze-in my entire-wheeze-life,\" panted Cathy. She was usually in the library or at her mother's side, reading about anything that piqued her curiosity or learning the intricacies of the court.\n\nThey lay on the ground for over half and hour. Charles helped his sister onto her feet.\n\n\"Okay, here's the plan. We'll sneak into one of the boats and head for the next country,\" he said.\n\nLet it be said that while Charles is good at adapting to new circumstances, he was never the best at long-term planning.\n\n\"But they inspect the cargo and the passengers in the other countries. The city guard will also be looking for us at the port,\" replied Cathy. \n\n\"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, but we have to leave this city fast. We aren't safe here.\"\n\nCathy thought it over. \"Okay, but let us go to the East Nation, father is a good friend of the king there. We might be able to get some help.\"\n\nCharles nodded. \"Alright then, but before we leave...\"\n\nHe started ripping out his formal clothing and Cathy's fine silk dress.\n\n---\n\nThey managed to get onto a boat, but the second part of the plan failed when they overheard some people talking about the assassination of the king of the East Nation.\n\nIn hushed tones, Charles spoke to his sister. \"Well, what now?\"\n\nCathy was silent, but unlike before, it was not a pause born of grief and pain. Instead, it was a calculating pose, like a thinker working on a new set of problems.\n\nShe finally spoke after a minute. \"We aren't in good terms with any other country, so we'll have to try our luck somewhere else.\"\n\n\"But where?\"\n\nShe was about to reply when the ship suddenly stopped, sending them both tumbling to the floor. \n\nIt was a pirate attack.\n\nCharles covered Cathy's mouth as screams and metal piercing flesh filled the air. After a while, the sounds died down.\n\nNeither of them moved as they waited, in their cramped hiding place, for the ship to set port.\n\nFinally, after three days, the ship stopped, and they hastily left the boat.\n\n---\n\n\"Dead Sailor Harbor, I should have known,\" said Charles.\n\n\"A wretched place where all manner of vulgarity makes itself known,\" agreed Cathy. \n\n\"You've read about this place, sis, what now?\" asked her brother.\n\n\"Well, it's an independent city-state that other countries don't want on their map. The people here don't care much about politics and from what I've heard, a whole lot of mercenaries.\"\n\nCharles stared at her. \"You're not thinking...\"\n\n\"Nope. Our army is too much even if we hire all the mercenaries here, but we can always learn the tools of the trade.\"\n\nCharles laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. \"To think that you would be the one to suggest that, are you my sweet sister whom I have known for sixteen years?\"\n\nCathy let a tear escape from her eye. \"If I keep distracting myself by thinking of something else, maybe I won't have to feel sad.\"\n\nCharles felt his eyes water, and he hugged his sister close again.\n\n---\n\nNote: It feels a tad unrealistic that they would bounce back so quickly. I'll blame adrenaline.", "Sir Beaufort leant out from behind the cart. The great expanse of the drawbridge lay before him, thirty yards of weathered wood hanging on black chains the width of a man's thigh. At its far end the stone keep waited vigilant. Within it, he would find his prize.\n\nA beastly roar rang out from the bleached haze above him. The snowcapped peaks in the distance took up the cry, returning its ghost again and again. Beaufort cursed under his breath - the dragon would return before long. He had to be quick.\n\nHeaving his armoured form out into the open, Beaufort launched himself out onto the drawbridge. He staggered as the weight of his iron frame caught up with him, threatening to throw him face down onto the boards. He made a mental note to seek out whichever man first suggested wearing plate armour to storm a mountain keep and thank him personally for his contribution. Regaining his footing, he pressed forward again at a steady pace, watching the world rock side to side through the slit in his visor. After weeks of toil, he was finally within reach of his goal. He would be the one to save her.\n\nThe world span, jumped, and crashed down into Beaufort's face. All sound disappeared in an instant, replaced by a soft ringing that came from somewhere deep in the back of his skull. A dryness in his mouth told him he was screaming, but if he was making any noise he didn't hear it. He tried to rise, but his limbs weren't where he expected to find them and he came crashing unceremoniously back down onto the ground.\n\nSomething grabbed Beaufort around the pauldron, hauling him up to his knees and dragging him forward in a half-crawl. He raised his head and tried to hold it steady, failing spectacularly. Half of his visor was bashed in, and the other half revealed only a swimming line of white light. He felt himself thrown down against something hard. A young girl was shrieking somewhere far away, although the sound was bent and broken as if he was holding his head under a bath.\n\n\"Oh shut your damn mouth, Harry.\"\n\nAt the sound of his name, Beaufort closed his mouth and the shrieking abruptly stopped. He reached up with quivering hands and pawed at his helmet. The first attempt just ended up smacking him across the side of the head, but his second pass found a good grip and started to ease the helm upward. Its dented side scraped across his forehead as it came off, but the rush of fresh air was a welcome reward. Someone was standing over him. A girl. A girl?\n\n\"Have no... Feuuurrrrrrrr-\" he managed, collapsing back against whatever it was he was leaning on. The cart, apparently. His surroundings tired of dancing around and returned at last to their rightful places. He was back where he'd started on the far side of the drawbridge. Across from him, the great stone wall of the keep lay in ruins, plumes of smoke rising steadily above it. Rocks the size of a man were scattered across the bridge's charred planks. He couldn't see the dragon anywhere.\n\n\"Harry!\" The voice was sharp, hard. Beaufort snapped to attention.\n\n\"I, uh...\" He paused as he finally took in the woman standing over him. \"Elisabeth?! What... The tower?...\"\n\n\"Pull yourself together Harry. Did you really think I was just going to wait in there for someone to rescue me?\"\n\nBeaufort looked from his companion, to the ruined tower, and back. \"Whu....\"\n\n\"The last garrison left a keg of gunpowder in the armoury. Look, Harry, we really need to go. That dragon could come back any moment.\"\n\n\"Uh...\" He nodded his approval. Well, more of a drunken sway than a nod, but it was good enough. Not that it mattered anyway - Elisabeth was already hauling him to his feet and back towards the mountain pass. Somewhere far away, Harry Beaufort heard the beast roar.", "Constable Percy locked the last of the brigands in the cell and tucked the keys back into his belt with a satisfying jingle. \"'At'll teach you thugs!\" he gloated at them as they all lounged sullenly against the wall. \"I bet the king'll want to deal with you hisself!\" He gestured toward the executioner's ax hanging on the opposite wall, notched and worn from slicing through so many necks. \"I just sent word meself that we saved his daughter and that you thugs were the ones holding her. So I'd expect him t' be here right quick!\"\n\nNone of the prisoners responded. \"Hmph,\" Percy grunted at them. \"Don't need no confession anyway.\" he turned to his deputies and waggled a fat finger at them. \"You boys stay sharp. The rest 'a the gang'll be tryin' to break them out. Don't let anyone through that door, you hear me?\" The guards in the room saluted back and took their posts, swords at the ready. \n\nPercy climbed the winding stairs out of the dungeon and up to his own bedchambers, where the princess was waiting. Nothing salacious, mind you. Percy was certainly an ambitious young man: he'd climbed his way up the government ranks from almost nothing. Just the fifth son of a minor noble house on the outskirts of nowhere, and look at him now: Constable of the entire province. He'd be Governor before he turned 40, he'd bet. But even an ambitious man such as Percy knew that the Princess was far out of his league, both in beauty and rank. So he'd given her his bed to sleep in and rest up from her ordeal. She'd been gone for over 2 years, though who knows how much of it had been at the hands of this gang. \n\n\"My lady?\" he knocked softly as he entered. She was sitting up in bed, blond hair tousled over the shoulder of the night dress he'd managed to find for her. It was from Lady Bitref, who had ample clothing to share but also ample weight. It was a number of sizes too large for the delicate princess, and revealed a bit more than her dear father would have liked. Constable Percy wasn't complaining, though. \n\n\"Constable Percy,\" she said with a radiant smile. Her voice was like a chorus of songbirds. \"Thank heavens you found me when you did! Those men were bloodthirsty and horrid! They... they did things...\" Percy could see the tears starting to well up in her clear blue eyes.\n\n\"Not to worry, my lady. 'ts all over now. You're safe here.\"\n\nShe gave a weak smile and a nod. \"You're right. You've been so amazing since you rescued me.\"\n\nPercy blushed and adjusted his collar. He had been amazing, hadn't he? Maybe he'd be Governor earlier than he'd planned! The King would be mighty grateful to the man who had rescued his daughter. \"Well, thank you, m'lady. I was just checking in to see if there might be anything you would be needin'.\" Best keep her all buttered up till the King arrived.\n\n\"You're leaving?\" she said, pulling the blanket aside and swinging one long leg out from under the sheets. Lady Bitref may have been large around the sides, but she was certainly much shorter than the princess. The dressing gown didn't extend very far down her thighs, and Constable Percy found it quite difficult to not look. \n\n\"Just need to go lock this in the treasury,\" he said, jangling the purse of gold at his waist that had been confiscated from the bandits. They'd had quite a haul on them; this would make for quite a bonus for Percy. \"But there're guards all o'er the castle. You've nothing t' worry about.\"\n\nShe bit her lip and flipped her hair over her shoulder. \"Would you... mind if I came with you? I just... don't think I can be alone anymore.\"\n\nConstable Percy bowed and grinned. If he played his cards right, he could even land himself in the Royal government down at the capital! To think that all of this could come from a common bandit raid. \"I'd be happy t' escort you, Princess.\"\n\nThey walked down the hall together to the astonishment of many of the guards. She clung to his arm and laughed at his jokes, while he did his best to inflate his own importance before she spoke to her father. She waited patiently by his side as he fiddled with his keys till he found the right ones to open the vault. She commented on how impressed she was that he'd managed to collect so much for the crown; this must surely be one of the most prosperous provinces in the realm! Percy humbly informed her that he'd played quite a role in encouraging commerce and growth in the area. After that little errand, she gave a large yawn and announced that she finally felt safe enough to get some sleep, all thanks to the Constable's management skills. He escorted her back to her room and opened the door like a true gentleman.\n\n\"Thank you so much,\" she said, gripping him in a tight hug. He tried not to focus too much on her soft breasts pressed against him, or the smell of her hair. \"Thank you for all you've done. My father will be so pleased.\" She still held him tight, no doubt savoring the human contact after all those months with those barbarians. \"I am going to ask him to promote you right away.\" She released him and clasped her hands behind her back with a flirtatious smile.\n\nPercy waved a hand. \"Just happy t' be doin' mah duty for my King, m'lady. I 'ppreciate your kind words, and I'd be honored t' 'ave you mention it to the King himself.\" \n\n\"Well, good night, Constable,\" she said, giving him the cue to leave the room. He bowed once more and closed the door behind him as she went off to get ready for bed. \n\nGovernor Percy, he thought to himself, trying the title on for size. Exchequer Percy, maybe? He'd always been good at dealing with coinage. How about Minister of Justice Percy? He had saved the princess from a gang of thieves; the king had to know that he knew how to deal with that rabble. It was possible, right?\n\nPercy made it back to his office (where he would sleep while the Princess made use of his quarters) and started some correspondence before bed. He had to get started on the letter writing early; there would hardly be time after the King promoted him. He left some blanks in the letter to his own Father where he could later fill in what position the King had bestowed. With that finished, he disrobed and prepared for bed himself. Must be rested for tomorrow.\n\nHe removed his collar and unbuttoned his vest, wondering what new uniform he'd be wearing tomorrow. He removed his pocket watch and laid it out carefully on the desk. Then he removed his... wait. Where was the key ring? He patted his pockets and checked every belt loop on his trousers. Nothing. He checked under the desk where he'd been sitting; maybe it fell! Still no sign of the keys. Where could it be?\n\nAs he brainstormed where he might have left it, the belltower began to ring out an alarm. \n", "\"Axxy, I'm bored,\" Princess Dell exclaimed. \"There hasn't been a single rescue attempt in 3 moons, and not even a pissant squire to announce the coming of another prince. You really should have let the last one live. That would have given the others some hope. Your appetite must be rather disturbing to would-be heroes\"\n\n\"It's not my fault that the kingdoms only breed wimps for princes nowadays. The rules are that any prince who can rescue you from this castle shall win your hand in marriage. And I get to eat the failures.\" \n\nThe Dragon, Nothraxxanduun, shifted its immense head to gaze at the princess with its cobalt eyes. It smiled at her, revealing teeth as large and sharp as broadswords. \n\n\"Well they all fail, and those rescue attempts are the only sort of excitement I can get in this stuffy old castle. I've read all the books, learned all your spells, and I can probably shoot a truer arrow than any of those dullard knights. I mean, come on Axxy, I even learned to juggle!\" \n\nTo prove her point Princess Dell grabbed a handful of gold coins from a nearby stack, counted out six, and began to juggle a neat circle in the air above her. Nothraxxanduun let out a low rumble, that was, of course, the sound of Dragon's laughter.\n\n\"I only see six coins. Did I ever tell you about the court jester from Liln who could manage a dozen? Why don't you practice until you can beat that?\"\n\nIrritated at this jest the princess stamped her foot and released a brute spell, sending each coin hurtling towards the Dragon. They ricocheted harmlessly off its thick scales. Furthered annoyed, Princess Dell visualized the runes for energy and air, and raised her hand to unleash a crackling bolt of lightning. Unperturbed, Nothraxxanduun wove a counterspell, and the bolt fizzled into nothing.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who taught you that spell, little one? If you were to live another thousand years then perhaps you could challenge me.\"\n\n \"That's my point exactly! You're just too powerful! How should any prince be able to rescue me when nine-tenths of them don't even bother to learn their runes anymore. They just come charging in with spears and shields, as if they could even lay a scratch upon you. I don't want to be a princess forever you know.\"\n\n\"Not forever dear. My previous captive lasted all the way until her 20th nameday before I ate her. And what a tiresome soul she was, always going on about her knitting and embroidery. You're much more interesting, Dell, I expect you'll keep me entertained until your 22nd at least.\" The Dragon laughed so heartily this time that steam broke through its grin.\n\n\"Oh Heavens that's horrible! I'm already past my 18th nameday. I can't imagine how horrible it would be to remain unwed by my 20th!\" The princess scrunched her face in disgust. \"No. I won't just sit here waiting on the off chance that some faux knight should rescue me. I need to be proactive about this. Axxy, you must carry me to nearest kingdom so that I can find myself a prince to marry.\"\n\n\"And just why should I do that?\"\n\n\"I'll let you eat the villagers,\" the princess said sweetly. \"I'll even command a knight or two to vanquish you. You always said you enjoy the tang of plate mail.\"\n\n\"Villagers are so bland, it's like eating livestock, and I've lost my taste for knights. I want the King. Royalty is just so, delectable.\" \n\nPrincess Dell considered this for a moment: if she married the heir and Axxy ate the King, then that would make her Queen! But that would not go over well with the People, they would never love her if she fed their King to a Dragon. \n\n\"So be it. I don't need their love. Make me a Queen, Axxy. Please.\" \n\nNothraxxanduun bared his sinister teeth, mouth smoking in pleasure. He had never imagined to capture someone of her caliber, but she was perfect. This would be fun. Oh yes indeed." ]	9
	[WP] You are a superhero that makes more and more questionable decisions until one day you are called a villain, and you see your actions for what they truly are, evil.	[ "The hero lived alone in a small hut in the mountains, surrounded by a quiet landscape, far from any other civilisation. He prefered it this way..\nNaturally, our superhero was born with his powers, although he doesn't know where he was born. The earliest memories of life is that of his childhood, back when he was living among other people in society, trying to live life as a normal boy.\n\"Like someone like me can ever hope to live a good, normal life\", he thought.\n\nWell rested, but still full of conflicting thoughts and unanswered questions, he decided to venture into the nearest, but still far-off town. This is the town where the hero first met good people, people who where friendly to him, people who respected him for what he is. It was a warm afternoon and the towns streets where bustling of people. He could hear old women discussing the latest rumors, children laughing at the entertaining street performers, shop-owners trying to win over customers.. Everyone greeting the hero as he passed by.\n\nFor the duration of the walk through the towns central districts, he felt calm, collected, respected and most of all welcomed. This was his town.\n\nAt some point he met with two men, one of them offering a warm greeting.\n\"Greetings my friend!\" He exclaimed. \"How good it is to see you here. Here, let me introduce my brother, Hans.\"\n\"Hello\"\n\"He just arrived this morning. We're on the way to the bar to conclude my tour of the town.\" The man said.\n\n\"Oh is that so?\" The hero replied. \"Say, have we met before, Hans?\"\n\"No we have not, I am quite certain\" Hans answered. \"This is my first time in this town, see.\"\n\n\"Yes I see\" The hero said. He then turned to Hans brother, \"I am getting abit hungry, and I think I would like some fish, preferably fresh out of the water, would you mind fetching some for me at the local river?\"\n\n\"Of course my friend!\" The man cheered and immediately ran off, leaving Hans quiet confused.\n\n\"Why would he leave me like that?\" Hans muttered to himself.\n\n\"Oh don't worry, he'll be back in no time. Why don't we proceed to the bar in the meantime?\" The hero said. And before Hans knew it, they were on their way.\n\n\nAlthough his brother, the only person he knew in town, wasn't there, Hans had a surprisingly good time at the local bar. He got along very well with just about everyone else there. They were all cheering, laughing, singing and dancing together.\n\nThe next morning, Hans woke up in the hotel room he was staying in. He barely remembers the night from before, but as he got more and more alert, his mind wandered toward his brother..\n\n\"Where is he, he was supposed to stay here with me tonight\" Hans muttered to himself.\nHe quickly got dressed and went out to look for his brother. He tried to recall all the different locations they had been yesterday, but couldn't find him anywhere. \nAfter he had searched practically every crook and corner of the town, he suddenly remembers his brother running off to catch fish for some reason. He figured he should go to the riverbank just outside the town, and sure enough, there he was.\n\n\"Brother!\" Hans shouted. \"What have you been doing all night, have you been here all this time?\"\n\n\"Of course\" He replied. \"The fish hasn't been biting at all, but for my friend, I won't give up!\"\n\nNaturally Hans found this answer perplexing. The fact that someone would sit all night fishing in a dried out river was perplexing.\nBut then he remembered, there has been other, similar accidents like this, a long time ago. He had only read about them in the newspaper, but they were all cases very similiar to what was happening here, people doing a single task for excessive amounts of time, for no apparent reason.\n\nThese cases were later solved, and It was said to be the cause of a single man, a supervillain, as revealed by the newspaper long time ago.\n\n\"Hello Hans\"\n\nHans was frightened for a moment as he turned around..\n\n\"Oh, it's you\" Hans said when he saw the man he had met with his brother yesterday. The man who had asked his brother to go fishing for him.\n\n\"It's you\"\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"It's you, from the newspapers back then, with all those strange incidents.\" Hans took a closer look..\n\"It IS you!\" He said.\n\n\"You, you are...\" As he was uttering these words he suddenly felt a strange feeling, and his next word; \"..My friend\".", "When I was young, superheroes were the stuff of comic books and blockbusters and video games. And like any young boy, I fantasized about having those powers: Invincibility, flight, teleportation, telekinesis, energy blasts from my hands. Anything Stan Lee could dream up I wanted. \n\nI was bullied. It happens. I think that the other kids, the boys especially, knew that there was something different. I didn’t realize it until I was about 14 or 15. By the time I was a teenager, those superhero fantasies were starting to fade away, replaced by more adult fare. I got into fights with my parents. They were religious, and they didn’t understand. Yeah, those people are a memory now I know. But they were very real back then, before we changed. \n\nI knew that there was more to life. In the cities, for sure. We had the internet, and I made my way to the nearest city every know and again. But I was always poor, there weren’t many jobs. And I couldn’t focus at school. \n\nI met Ahmed and fell in love, and moved away from my family and he was quickly estranged from his. We had each other and not much else. We lived in a trailer park, I did odd jobs and he had some gig at pub and was taking some IT courses at a community college extension. But we were happy in our way, living paycheck to paycheck in what passed for normality in our little universe. \n\nThat all changed with Project Orion and what we used to call “the Event.” You heard about it on the news every now and then, a manned mission to an asteroid that was in lunar orbit. And they found the perfect candidate. The mission was a success, until they left. And it started following them. \n\nThe crew always denied that anything strange took place when they were on that rock, but now I know better. They were exposed to the same anomaly, the one that disintegrated the rock while we all watched and waited in fear that it was going to destroy human civilization with a single impact event. They nuked it, but no one was sure it would work. When it changed course, when it came in, it had such a purpose to it. It was guided by some sort of intelligence, that much was certain. \n\nBut it disintegrated and the debris trailed through the skies and then the real changes started. The Singularity, as We now call it. \n\nAt first, I didn’t notice any changes. Whatever happened to me was latent. It was Ahmed who changed first. He could move things with his mind. Telekinesis. He got better with time. And he had a plan. \n\nHis family had fled Islamists but they were religious fundamentalists, just not the right kind. He had a visceral hatred of the religion in general, but especially the Sunni. You never really escape that toxicity when you come from a religious family. I should know. \n\n\nAt first he was happy to use his powers to help people. Most of them were. He became a celebrity of sorts as well, and we had money. But his family considered it demonic, and assumed his sexuality had sealed a curse from Allah. My family thought the same, but then, they also thought that Allah was a demon. \n\nEventually, the first super villains started to appear. The United States and other countries passed the registration acts, which turned into detention centers after Beijing was destroyed. Cooler heads prevailed and prevented a mass genocide except, of course, in certain countries. These transhumans, as people called them, they had a lot of firepower but they were very, very small in number. Beijing was a wake up call that something had to be done, and it was. \n\nThe crusaders and the jihadists led the charge against us. People became small minded and petty, and intolerance washed over the face of the Earth. We were in hiding then, and I was making love to Ahmed when I discovered my own abilities. I kept shifting at first, my perspective shifting from his to mine, and mine to his. And then my body fell cold, dead. Harrison Jack, or what had been Harrison Jack, no longer existed. \n\nI was now Ahmed, but I was also what remained of Harrison Jack. And we were still on the run. I was something new. My Arabic was serviceable before, but now it was fluent. As was my English. I knew things about Ahmed, and Ahmed knew things about me. We were each other. We were no longer lovers or partners or husbands. We were one another. A harmonious unity of thought, memory and purpose. \n\nAnd still on the run. We lived in this state for some time. Ahmed was accused of murder, and we couldn’t expose ourselves to try and explain what would never be accepted. So we became heroes or, if you prefer, vigilantes, even donned a mask. A mask of a blank face, the everyman. Life wasn’t easy, but it felt worthwhile to help people. To oppose the darker elements among the transhumans and mundanes alike. \n\nBut as good as we were, we couldn’t beat a transhuman intelligence operative who had been tasked with hunting us down. Sydney Day, the remote viewer. She found us, but we refused to go quietly. She killed Ahmed. \n\nWe didn’t know how it would work then. Would We just die in Ahmed’s vessel? But that’s not what happened. We jumped, instantaneously, and We were Sydney Day, and she was Us. That proved harder to reconcile at first. Our perspective changed. \n\nShe had access to so much more information. And the abilities moved with Us. We could see everywhere, find anyone, move anything, transfer Our consciousness to any vessel, survive anything. We were a trinity then. \n\nSuspect One was the code name for the transhuman who had leveled Beijing. They believed it was accidental, but no government could tolerate Suspect One destroying another city. Ahmed was down on the food chain, but Suspect Zero was a high priority. But remote viewing took time and required evidence. So We turned to the list, and looked for profiles that would assist us. These were bad guys, after all. The governments were already looking for them. We found a telepath who had been using her talents in Las Vegas. She was given a choice: Be recruited, or be imprisoned. The Sydney in Us was so zealous We were not sure We could allow her to be imprisoned, but she complied. And she was quite helpful. She helped Us find the first shape shifter. We jumped into her first, and then the shapeshifter. Sydney’s access, her position within the tracking unit, it was to important to Our mission to lose it. The shapeshifter delivered. \n\nThese changes, these additions, they all came with a process We called “reconciliation.” So it was tricky, keeping a unified purpose. But there was a compulsion there, a drive and a unity of direction that amplified with each successful acquisition. Sydey Day rose in the ranks. We had some assistance; a trans with the power to control the decisions of others helped that. And eventually, she was in charge. We were still missing Suspect One. We searched and searched and searched, but to no avail. \n\nAnd then Los Angeles disappeared, the apparent victim of a domestic terrorist attack using a nuclear weapon stolen from the government. The country unraveled into chaos, the religious extremists rekindled their crusade against the transhumans, fear erupted across the globe. We yearned to stop it, to control and harness the power of Suspect One. For the good of everyone. \n\nThe crusaders and jihadists began moving against the tracking and registration programs, which were too important to us to turn a blind eye to these mundane interventions. So many of them were terrorists. We began targeting their leadership. The Director was persuaded that it was necessary, in the pursuit of Suspect One. After Los Angeles, as fear ruled the hearts and minds of the global population, transhuman and mundane alike, Our job got a little easier. The Ahmed and Harrison delighted in this. We found Suspect One, eventually. \n\nBefore We came, humanity quarreled incessantly, divided by the vulgarities and vagaries of intolerance and greed and all that was base in Us, before We were transformed. We are transfigured. We were not as We once were. And now, for the first time since Our arrival, We again have the power to level mountains with the blink of an eye. Evil? You might see it that way now that you live under the tranquility of Our rule. We are beyond good and evil. We are the Singularity that was delivered to you. And nothing can stop Us. \n\nWe come in peace. ", "It started gradually. The descent into darkness. Small steps, justified at each point. I was too focused on the results to realize that I was becoming that which I hated.\n\nIt all started with his death. Darkness. He and I been doing the same dance for so long. We fought for centuries. I won most of the times, but the times I lost, the world paid a terrible price. Ordinary jails couldn't hold him, and the slippery bastard kept escaping from my prisons.\n\n\"What right does a being of pure evil have to live\"\n\nThat's what I said to myself as I wrenched his heart out. As he lay on the ground, bleeding out, I swear I could hear him laughing. I should have understood then. That was the beginning of the end.\n\nI had allowed one death. It justified others. The Magician, the Tyrant, many supervillians lost their lives in a no holds barred fight with me. The world was lulled in a false sense of security. They proclaimed me as a true Hero and in my arrogance I accepted their praise.\n\nI began to interfere as I please. Started cracking down on corrupt governments. Busted drug cartels. Declared a cease-fire in the middle east. That last one lead to a major altercation with the US government. It didn't end well for the US military.\n\nI was above the law. An all powerful God who doled out justice as I pleased. Alcoholic fathers, false-prophets, even scam artists. I was beginning to intervene everywhere.\n\nI could see that alcohol was a killer that poisoned the mortal mind, so I purged it. Declared Prohibition. They didn't like that. Next I banned cigarettes. Then all recreational drugs: Heroin, LSD, Marijuana. The grumblings were starting but I didn't care.\n\nI began to educate Humans. I wanted to give them a proper education. Stop them from wasting time on video-games and Netflix. Redirect their attention from the so called 'arts' and sports, to the more important matters.That lead to wide protests.\n\nI met the people. Tried to talk some sense into them. But they refused to listen. There were assassins in the crowd. They had researched my weakness well. They almost killed me. \n\nThe aftermath of that fight is a bit of a blur.\n\nWhen I came to everything in a 10 block radius was dead. Torn down skyscrapers had crushed the area. Bodies were littered everywhere. But I was focused only on one detail in front of me.\n\nThe boy must have only been 10. He was lying on the ground. Looking up with innocent eyes . My hand was wrapped around his neck. I didn't feel a heart beat. \n\nThe hideousness of what I had done drove me mad. I rushed to the skies. Further and further until I saw the stars.\n \nAs a floated in the vast emptiness of space I looked down on that tiny planet. My home. People were out on the streets in open rebellion. Clandestine meetings were being held to plan my assassination. Around the world, families were fleeing, seeking asylum in the mountains or in bunkers deep underground. In the hope they would be out of my reach.\n\nThe super-heroes feared me. The villains feared me. I was the history's strongest. The worst part was that I feared myself. I could still that boy. Feel his warmth on my hand. And even worse. I could see the Darkness. From the day he died. See that sick laughter as he bled to death. I finally understood the reason behind his amusement. He had won. I was the new Darkness.", "It all seemed like a logical series of steps, none wrong or done with anything other than the best of intentions really... until you came to look at it as a whole. \nThe hero paused, he should probably stop thinking of himself as a hero now he admitted, and considered where it had all begun. \nThe villain had been defeated and lay there beneath his feet with a smirk. \"You know you can't kill me, or just let me die, not and call yourself a hero. You'll save me, take me to prison and I'll escape again. Then you'll come after me for revenge for the guards I killed, although you'll call it justice.\" He spat redly at the ground and laughed, although it got weaker and more forced as the hero walked away and left him behind. He had returned twenty minutes later, after having dealt with the injured policement that had been shot, exploded or otherwise harmed by the villain's plot. They were all in hospital and being treated before he turned his attention towards the wrongdoer. By this time it was a bit academic as blood loss had carried his foe away. \nThat hadn't seemed so bad, even now. He'd saved the worthy in preference to the evil. \nNext another villain had managed to successfully prepare a plot to destroy a major city. He'd implanted the control in his own mind, knowing that a true hero wouldn't kill even a villain and that there was no way to disarm him now. The look of surprise on his face as the attack was launched had been smeared across the slab of concrete used as a blunt weapon. \nNo one had minded that either. One psycho for a city? Fair trade, the people considered. \nThen he'd moved on, killing where it was likely that the villain would escape and kill others in their attempt to win. \nThat seemed reasonable too. Saving future police and army lives in return for a little death now? \nIn the end he'd asked those who he'd stopped if they were going to reform. If they said no, he killed them on the spot. If they lied to him and continued as before, he expanded his methods. If they reoffended, he killed their family, their friends, their pets even. \nBefore long he realised that even stopping every lawbreaker wasn't enough, there was still crime on a larger scale. That was when he took over the world, his invulnerability, strength and flight great assets in this. He destroyed armies, wiped out parliaments and rebuilt the world in his image. \nHe considered this as he sat atop a mountain, watching the world beneath him, peaceful, safe, controlled. Yes, he decided, I am indeed a villain. But maybe that's what it took to provide a solution." ]	4
	[WP] You graduate top of your class with a degree in History. Immediately after the graduation ceremony, your professors usher you to a hidden room where the real history books are kept.	[ "Simon gasped. All of the studying in the world could not have prepared him for this, the TRUTH.\n\n\"9/11?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"The Kennedy assassination?\n\nYes.\n\n\"Watergate?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"Both World Wars?!\"\n\nYes, all orchestrated by the Reptilian overlords.\n\n\"L-l-lizard P-pee\"\n\nYes Simon, Lizard people. You must study our history if you are to engage in the merge. We cannot allow a chimp to know of our presence. You have shown great aptitude. Utilize your potential. JOIN US OR PERISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH.\n\n\n\n", "\"I've always liked you, Colin\", said the professor, his hand on my shoulder and an inscrutable smile on his face, as we walked the ancient stone corridor, \"watching you graduate top of your class was a unique pleasure.\" He was right about that. After 3 years of jibes and derision from my fellow classmates and teachers alike, I'd proved them all wrong. Lacked insight, did I? Conclusions spurious, were they? Depth of understanding lacking, was it? Well fuck them. Bunch of cock-knockers. Professor Vika understood. I was breaking new ground, and it was beyond them. The shallow always fail to recognise genius. If studying history history had taught me anything, it had taught me that.\n\nAs we approached the huge portrait of Jefferson Davis at the end of the hall, the professor said \"My boy, I'm going to let you in on a secret truth that few have ever known. Human history, as most know it, is a lie.\" He poked at the painting with his index finger; once on the subject's nose, twice in each eye, and 3 times on the bulge of his ballsack. The painting rose, moved by some unseen mechanism. In its place gaped a dark entrance leading to stone stairs descending downwards towards oblivion. \"Shall we?\" smiled the professor.\n\nAs we descended the stairs, the professor said \"It may shock you to learn this, Colin but although I am the head of the history department in what is undoubtedly the shittest university in the country - if not the world - I am also the head of a society dedicated to the preservation of the truth. There is a secret history. Written in books that few have ever seen. Today, my boy, that society increases by one.\"\n\nWe entered a dimly lit chamber filled with books, in wildly varying sizes, colours and states of repair. \"See for yourself\", said the professor.\n\nI picked up a volume at random and looked at the spine. It was titled \"Well I Still Think They Were All Communists\" by Senator Joseph McCarthy. Another, “See? What Did We Tell You?” by The Anti-Suffragette League. Another, \"The Third Reich: I’m Sure We'd Have Grown On You Eventually” by Herman Göring. On and on it went; bitter, whining, self-pitying volume after bitter, whining, self-pitying volume.\n\n\"Professor!\" I said \"What is this place?\" \"Isn't it obvious? You see, my boy, the history we know is wrong, for one very simple reason: it was written by the victors. By the winners. By those who triumphed absolutely. What would you do in their position? Offer a balanced account? Be fair to all viewpoints? Of course you wouldn't. Or perhaps, my boy, you would but that's rather the point, isn't it? The type who wins does so because of their unquenchable need to dominate all. Of course their accounts of what transpired are wrong; facts are not their concern, only power. Only these volumes, which me and my brethren are sworn to protect, contain the real story of humanity. We are the true custodians history! Not the winners, us!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, professor, when you say 'us', do you mean to imply... losers?\", I said, \"Can I point out that I just graduated top of my class?\"\n\n\"My dear boy\", said the professor, his arms outstretched, \"your work was some of the worst we've ever seen. Welcome to the club.\"\n", "It happened as soon as I walked across the stage and down the steps at the opposite end. I didn't even have time to look up in the stands for my family before Dr. Temple's hand was on my shoulder, steering me out of the gymnasium. As soon as I'd caught sight of him approaching me, he had put a finger over his lips and given me. What could be going on? Was there some sort of cash prize attached to the departmental award after all? \n\nWe went through the gym's front doors, making it out into the open air. We began to break off in a half-sprint toward the main campus.\n\n\"Dr. Temple, what the hell is going on?\" I asked. I was always forward with my professors, and they were always forward with me. I'd just been accepted into a prestigious graduate program, so they sort of looked at me as they would a colleague.\n\n\"Listen, Ivan, no, don't stop moving, we don't have much time before the ceremony ends. \n\n\"I'm leaving tomorrow to teach in Europe over the summer, but the rest of the department and I didn't want you to go to graduate school unprepared. And of course, I'm the Trustee, so I couldn't leave the key to anyone else.\"\n\n\"Trustee? You're an associate professor, though. . . And what key are you talking about?\"\n\n\"No, not of the college, of the book, the History Book itself. And I'm the holder of the key to the Book's room, of course.\"\n\n\"History book? Which one? There's hundreds in your office alone. . .\"\n\n\"No, not a history book. The History Book.\"\n\n\"Uhm. Professor. . . Are you feeling okay?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes of course. You'll see what I'm talking about soon. Come on up.\"\n\nWe had reached the Liberal Arts Building, which was the oldest building on campus. It had more floors and fewer elevators than any of the other buildings, except (and only on the first count) some of the dorm high-rises. We took the elevator up, Dr. Temple talking excitedly the whole way.\n\n\"The Book, well, not really a book, but, well, you'll see, anyway it travels around to the various schools that belong to the trust. MU is up in the rotation now, but the Book will actually be going with you to Durham in September-- funny coincidence, eh? In fact, we're discussing at present whether it would save time to just make you the Bookbearer.\"\n\nHe said this as though it would mean something to me. The elevator doors hap opened. Floor 7. History.\n\nWe walked out and down the hall. The professor continued.\n\n\"History is, of course, the most important area of study known to man. By far. Well, History Book Studies are sort of codisciplinary with lit and linguistics, but you get the point. Ever notice, perhaps, that your old high school had more history teachers than might have seemed strictly necessary? That's because we train more students than we need to. We want the best of the best as Bookkeepers. Most end up as high school teachers, and there's a bit of excess there, but you, Ivan, have gotten in to just the right grad school. Or the wrong one, depending on how you look at it\" -- here the professor gave a dry chuckle-- \" Because you, like me, will become a Bookkeeper.\"\n\n\"Oh sure, they'll teach you a bit about Foucault and Hobsbawm and the rest, so you can teach a class or two. But that won't be your real job.\"\n\nWe had come to a perfectly innocuous-looking door. It was not until then that I realized I'd never seen even a janitor go into that particular room, nor had anyone ever mentioned its purpose. Professor Temple fumbled with a set of keys, then opened the door.\n\nInside the room was nothing but a desk, and on it was a massive scroll. The very end of the scroll was rolled out onto the desk, and a golden quill was scratching strange runes onto the paper. Another gold quill lay on the desktop.\n\n\"The History Book,\" said Professor Temple grandly, his capital letters audible. \"All of History is writ upon it in a divine shorthand known only to a handful of living people. And continuing to write even now is the Quill of the Present. The Quill of the Past lies beside, and it can change any facet of History. Not only on the scroll, but in real life. Go on, pick it up.\"\n\nI did so. It was light as a feather.\n\nIf you could change history with this thing. . . And people knew about it. . . Then why was history still so damn rotten? I asked.\n\n\"So, you mean I could change any part of history with this thing? Write the Holocaust out of existence, make it so that Hitler was never born?\"\n\n\"No!\"" ]	3
	[WP] After a successful grassroots campaign "DIY Medicine" is fully legalized as an alternate healthcare system. All types of medication, and even surgical tools and equipment are now available for anyone to purchase over the counter.	[ "Dear diary, going to go to town on the opium and have some crazy robert frost dreams..... Will get back to you soon. \n\nOk, so what I thought was a few days, Diary. Would you believe Ive been sitting around the house for 8 months? If not for my supportive girlfriend I would have starved to death but fortunately I did not. So I shall present to you some dank memes I came up with while partially comatose (inserts memes) come to think about it.... These memes make no sense! Is that Sylvester Stalone riding a \"Jackrabbit\" into battle with Ewoks on the moon of Titan with a corresponding motivational quote from Poly Shore?! Why yes! Yes it is. I've a heavy addiction now so, Ill see you again in a few months Ms. Diary!", "“Are you sure about this?” Kevin asked. Jeffery stood over him with two pairs of glimmering, surgical instruments; he hovered directly over Kevin’s abdomen where his grudging patient had been experiencing pain. Kevin had been certain the pain was nothing to be worried over; something bad in the water, maybe something he ate. But Jeffery had been sure it was something far more troubling than his Aunt Linda’s “garbage” lasagna. \n\n“It could be something bad,” Jeffery whispered as Kevin washed the dishes. \n\n“It could be serious,” He said a few days later while Kevin took out the trash. \n\n“What if you die from it,” he mumbled into the pink cartilage of Kevin’s ear as he dozed off watching The Price is Right. \n\n“Fine! I’ll go to a doctor!” \n\n“You don’t need one of those. You got me. I can open you up and stitch you right. You’ll be good as new.” Jeffery had bounced on the soles of his callous covered feet and looked at Kevin with wide blue eyes. \n\n“That’s an awful idea.” Kevin scoffed and turned back to watching Lisa from Kentucky bid 500 American dollars on a goddamn toaster oven. \n\n“You heard bout the DIY medicine movement. Best damn thing ever; I went out and got my self some forceps the day they made the ruling.”\n\n“Good for you,” Kevin snorted. “Use your forceps on the Johnson’s dog down the road, get it to stop yapping at one in the morning.”\n\n“Let me use my skills on you.”\n\n“You haven’t got any skills.”\n\n“I’ve been reading those books. You know I’ve been reading those books. The ones with the pictures.” \n\n“You’re inciting true confidence in me. Please, keep talkin’.” \n\n“Please? Pretty please? Just let me cut you a little bit?” \n\n“Jeffery, you know I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t think it was true. I think you have a problem.”\n\n“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine. Just let me try once, okay?” He batted his eyelashes in an over exaggerated, mocking fashion. \n\n“Fine!” Kevin had spat. “Fine, fine. Get away from me!” \n\nAnd it had all led to Kevin laying flat on the kitchen table, Jeffery holding forceps in one hand and a pair of surgical scissors in the other. “Are you sure?” Kevin asked again. \n\n“Of course I’m sure,” Jeffery said. “What could go wrong?” " ]	2
Just to clarify how the message works, the future that sends it back never received it themselves and hope that whoever receives it can use it to protect themselves. the changes to the timeline aren't instantaneous i.e. send the message, history changes instantly, and as a result the message sent back to change history also changed. As a result, the sender doesn't change themselves, but rather hope another version can benefit. Since sending these messages would change the past (i.e. kill Hitler before WW2), this would cause context to change (i.e. if Hitler was killed, any message about hunting down Nazi wouldn't make sense) so the messages may not always be from the same future, just futures where mankind would go if there was no message.	[WP] For the past century or so, every year on January 1st, humanity has received a broadcast from another version of itself 1 year in the future giving global advice, warnings, or random information. The year, the contents of the message are... distressing	[ "\"It is... Too late for us...\"\n\nWe watched the message in a collective silence. They'd been grim a few times but never liked this. Usually it was one lone desperate scientist. Occasionally a few... This looked like the whole city had come to record it.\n\n\"Around June of this year things change. It's subtle. It seemed harmless. A few kids here and there for laughs. Perhaps a co worker passes it on for a chuckle... We didn't know...\"\n\nThe speaker's voice cracked... Another took his place. \n\n\"They were just videos... Pranks...\"\n\nMurmurs in the crowd.\n\n\"You'd expect one thing... But then... It would suddenly change into something else. We... We thought... It made him strong... Way too strong...\"\n\nWho? The crowd was demanding.\n\n\"His name... I can't... I can't say it...\" The speaker tried to compose himself.\n\n\"His name is... John Cena you tell them...\"\n\nWWE superstar John Cena stepped into the frame.\n\n\"His name is Rick Astley.\"", "The Ball had dropped. The new year had been rung in!\n\nMe and my honey cozied up on the couch under a blanket and turned on the TV. It was time for the greatest New Year's tradition in the world!\n\nWe tuned into ABC's Annual Next Year In Review, Live from the Future!\nOf course it was live! The ones sending it back made sure that there was no way for the government to intercept it and edit it before they could show it to us. The was no 3 second delay for censorship from ABC either. It was the uncut, unadulterated, future!\n\nAnd so the long awaited annual broadcast began!\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nNothing was happening, just a blue screen with no noise...\n\nThe two of us sat on the couch giving confused looks at each other.\n\nA whole thirty seconds had come and gone-\n\nWhen finally something appeared.\nIt was a message in black bold letters.\n\nIt simply said...\n\n\"We regret to inform you that you're regularly scheduled program has been cancelled due to unforeseen events.\"\n\n\nBefore either of us could say a word to each other, there was a blindingly bright flash of light.\n\n\nAnd then, there was only moonlight reflecting back from the dead screen of the TV.", "We always party pretty hard on New Year's Eve. Mostly just blind tradition, but it was always good to be slightly liquored up when the 'Cast aired. What parallel versions of us have done to themselves sometimes needed a stiff drink to wash down.\n\nSo like every other year we partied. All around my apartment we drank and wondered what things a future version of Earth would want to tell us. We made bets about famous people - who would kick the bucket, who would be in rehab, or what team would win or lose what sporting event. \n\nAnd the news anchors stood before the ball in Times Square in their best winter coats and counted down. \n\n3!\n\n2!\n\n1!\n\n...\n\nNothing. \n\nThe 'Cast came in only as TV snow static. The anchors put on manufactured smiles and joked about the future's technical difficulties. We did, too. At 1AM the static persisted. We drank and joked. At 2AM the news networks were speculating wildly about when the 'Cast would come through. At 5AM the morning show anchors wondered loudly and innocently about who to hold responsible. At 6AM it became clear that no cast was coming. That the future wasn't going to happen. At 8AM the news began reporting riots that had sprung up in major cities worldwide. At noon those riots were being met with fierce resistance in most countries. At 3PM militaries had been mobilized to secure borders. At 7PM the first ICBM got airborne. By 9PM half the world was smoldering ash. \n\nThis is what they wanted to warn us against. " ]	3
	[WP] Your best friend turns purple every time he tells a lie.	[ "\"Hey Dave, did you drink my Yoohoo?\"\n\n\"What? No! Of course not, Bradley! That was your delicious chocolate beverage. I respect you too much to drink it. I can't believe you would accuse me of that!\"\n\n\"You sure you didn't drink it?\"\n\n\"I'm 110% positive.\"\n\n\"Yeah? See here's the thing. You're the color of a lovechild between an eggplant and a plum. You're so purple you look like a shitty Smurf knockoff. Now I'll ask again. Did you drink my Yoohoo?\"\n\n\"Alright fine! I drank your friggin' Yoohoo! Happy?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Well why not, Sherlock?\"\n\n\"Because some Violet Beauregarde-looking toolbag drank my Yoohoo. And really, I hope it tasted terrible.\"\n\n*\"It was delicious.\"*\n", "\"There's... been a lot of news lately. From the last place we worked together. Adrian.\" The shorter male with curly brown hair and green eyes stared to the taller one. \n\n\"Yeah like what?\" The one with dark hair and blue eyes stared. \n\n\"Children are being murdered.\" \n\n\"What about it?\" He asked again. \n\n\"Did you kill them...?\"\n\n\"I don't know what your talking about. \" he became dyed in deep purple hair eyes skin all of it. \n\nThe shorter one frowned. \" whatever....I have to go make the training tapes tonight. Can you give me a ride to the pizzaria?\" 'Some skin conditon that is... '\n\n\"Sure can buddy.\" He reverted back to normal colors. \n\n\n(Five nights at Freddies inspired. -wink- fun prompt thanks) ", "\"I love you, you love me, we're a happy family...\" he sang sadly behind his cheery demeanor.\n\n\"Hey, uh, are...are you okay?\" I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"Yeah, of course!\" he said behind an obviously fake smile. \n\n\"Why...why don't we sit down for a moment?\" \n\nI motioned to the seat behind him, as he carefully arranged himself onto it. \"Is there something you want to tell me?\" I asked him cautiously.\n\n\"I d...I don't...\" he said, turning away, making sure to avoid eye contact.\n\n\"...are you sure?\" \n\nSilence.\n\nI could tell he wanted to tell me something, but something held him back. \"No...\" he said, as the purple began to cover more of his normally green skin.\n\n\"Okay...\" I said, easing off. \n\n\"You can tell me anything, you know that right?\" I nodded. \"Just come to me when you're ready...\"" ]	3
	[WP] This is it, first contact; an alien spacecraft has landed on earth. The doors of the spaceship hiss open and out steps… a human? Yeah, they're pretty confused too.	[ "\"No, no, no\" I moaned as the cube slid the wrong direction. God this game was so addicting! I clicked on to start the next level, but before it could start, I heard a rather loud crash coming from the backyard, and wondered if something had fallen off the roof. I paused the game, and hurried outside to see what had happened.\n \nMuch to my amazement, a strange shaped craft had landed, and the door, or what passed for a door was opening. The dogs next door were staring through the fence, and I figured if they weren't alarmed, I shouldn't be either. But just in case, I reached over the fence and grabbed a large hunk of firewood. \n\nI've always believed in UFOs, but I was pretty sure I'd never come in contact with an alien. The hatch, or door, or whatever it was exactly, swung open, and I saw a hand much like my own pushing on it. I cocked my head in curiosity. This wasn't what people on TV said they looked like, at least not so far.\n\nThe hatch opened further, and I heard cussing. \"Stupid damned thing. Where is the oil when I need it. God I hate this damn thing!\" I stepped no closer, preferring to observe from a prudent distance. \n\n A small ladder unfolded, and a woman, yes, a woman stepped out. She seemed as surprised as I was to see another homo sapiens.\n\n\"You're not an alien!\" I blurted out in surprise\n\n\"Neither are you. I thought...never mind. I guess the scientist were wrong.\"\n\n\"Yah, I'd say so\".\n\nShe had emerald green eyes and pale red hair, and I thought she was beautiful, not like supermodel beautiful, just beautiful by being her, and not from this planet.\n \n\"You're not from Earth are you? I'd hate to think I was just talking to an astronaut who got lost.\"\n\n\"No. No I'm not from Earth.\"\n\n\"Are you...really human?\"\n\nShe nodded while looking over her craft. \"Good. My husband would be really pissed if I messed up his baby.\"\n\nI couldn't think of anything else to say, so I gestured for her to come in. \"I...I dunno about you, but I could use some coffee. Do you drink coffee?\"\n\n\"Oh thank GOD there is coffee here! Yes I do! Do you have milk and sugar?\"\n\nI chuckled. \"Not milk, it's my roommates, but you can have some creamer. I'm Caroline.\"\n\n\"I'm Jessica, and it's a pleasure to meet you. Your kind seems more advanced than our scientist thought you'd be.\"", "Jason sat against the park bench, he was still fuming, trying to calm himself down from the fight he just had with his wife. She was always getting on his ass, nagging and complaining about his lifestyle. She knew about it before hand why was she so dead set on changing his ways when years have already passed?! Jason knew the answer, the stars above and the soft rustling of the tall trees reminded him of serenity. The more calm he got, the more he deduced the reasons behind his wife's nagging. She was having a tough time with her new boss, and she had no where to vent. His own distractions, his dumb little Lego building hobby meant he was too preoccupied to give her the attention she really needed. Every fight between Jason and his wife took on a similar pattern, they would yell and scream, then he would leave to cool off under the vast Arizona sky. In a few minutes, his wife would come out, excluding extreme circumstances, and after minutes of silence they would voice their apologies and move on. Jason's wife, Hannah, came out, as if on cue, but something was wrong. She was sprinting with a panicked expression. \n\n\"We need to move, now!\" She yelled.\n\nJason was extremely skeptical, \"Well I don't think the house is the problem. I just need to apologize.\"\n\nHannah shook her head and grabbed Jason's shirt, dragging him to the trees. At first Jason didn't understand why, but slowly an earth rumbling sound approached his ears, and he didn't stick around to find out what it was. Once past the tree lines the young couple turns around to see a massive orb descending to earth, with a rocket propulsion system slowing its descent. When the Orb was a few feet above the ground its rockets stopped scorching the earth, and mechanized legs descended, allowing the Orb to come to a rest. \n\nJason was at a loss of words, he slowly realized Hannah was mumbling the whole time, frantically whispering in his ear, \"What do we do, call the police? The FBI? The Army?\"\n\nJason began nodding, and grabbed his wife by the hand, unable to speak words. He began pulling her deeper into the woods, to avoid being seen by whatever alien object the Orb was. But the young couple froze in their tracks, a large hissing noise made them reconsider their actions, scared that they had triggered something, they turned back to observe the Orb. A ramp unfolded and descended into the dirt, and a doorway opened up. Inaudible noises could be heard from the inside, slurs of vowels and words of another language filled air. \n\nWith only the star light, Jason and Hannah could only make a vague outline of what descended from the ship. A humanoid creature, with a hunched back, and a long face slowly stumbled down the ramp. It seemed very human, about 5' 6'' and 4 appendages, it stood about as tall as Hannah. It appeared to have a crown of bone on its head, and it wore accessories that clinked together in the quiet night. Its stumbling was probably due to the change in gravity from its home planet, it couldn't stand straight, constantly swaying, with its knees bent together and its hands out in front of it. \n\nJason concluded the alien wasn't immediately physically harmful, seeing as it could hardly stand. He motioned to Hannah to take out her phone, and he inched forward to confront it. Slowly, Jason heard what the fumbling creature was saying.\n\n\"What did Noah say, he would wait for me, Buuut I don't see him anywhere around, did I take a taxi to bourbon? Yes I did. He woke me up, he said, come back to bourbon, Ill wait for you. Was he there? Noooooo, so Im at the park, I went to the park. So Noah, come to the park, to the park, Noah, come to the park.\"\n\nJason stood up straight and emerged from the treeline, even more confused than he previously was. In front of him, was not some small alien who couldn't deal with earth's gravity, but a drunk girl, a person so inebriated she couldn't stand still, let alone straight. Now that he was close, Jason could see she was adorned with Mardi Gras beads and a pink crown that said \"Birthday Bitch\" on it. Immediately the drunk girl plopped on the ground, looking slightly annoyed, and very confused. She noticed her new company and pointed at him, or what seemed to be him, but was a bit too far left. \n\n\"YOU, you there, do you know where Noah is? Because I am looking for Noah.\"\n\nJason stuttered incoherently for a moment before speaking, \"Do you know where you are? You just came down in a space ship!\" \n\nHannah came running at the sound of human voices, seeing the drunk girl on the forest floor. When she realized her husband was only flabbergasted, but not in danger, she hung up the phone.\n\nThe drunk girl turned her body to look at her ship. \"What that? No. That's my taxi. They are the new New Orleans Taxis.\" hiccup hiccup \"Shit, now I have the hiccups.... I think Uber own them or something.\"\n\nJason corrected her, \"There is no way that can by an Uber, I already told you its a Space Ship! And you're not in New Orleans, you're in Phoenix.\" \n\nhiccup \"Well I just need to get to Bourbon Street.... Noah is waiting for me... which way is it?\"\n\nThe young couple were getting increasingly annoyed at the Birthday Bitch's answers. Hannah interjected, \"Its not anywhere. You are too far. Can we call Noah for you?\"\n\n\"OOOOOOHH MY GOD, call Noah? I called him like 5 bajillion times, but he won't answer me. Here. Tell him I'm waiting for him on Phoenix Street.\" The Drunk Girl pulled out a smart phone from her bra and threw it at the couple. But her intoxication made for poor athletic stimulant. It went wide and landed in the crater under the Orb. \n\nJason thought nothing of it, although slightly wary of the Orb, he was more than filled with curiosity at how the Drunk Girl got in this Orb. He strode over to the phone and crouched to comfortably reach it. When he picked it up, Noah was calling. \n\nJason slid his finger across the tiny screen and answered, \"Hello? Noah? I don't know how to explain this.\"\n\n\"No need to explain anything. That drunk girl is named Kelsey, and she stole my ship again.\"\n\n\"Your ship? This is yours? Are... you human?\"\n\n\"Haha, yes, I am human. If you go inside, you'll find pictures of myself and my father. We have spent our lives building this ship. Honestly, you can just put Kelsey on it, and send her back to me.\"\n\n\"Uhhh... OK.\"\n\n\"Cool, just go up the ramp, look inside, the coordinates of her last takeoff should be on the screen at waist level directly to you left. Right next to that is a large green button. Press the button to warm it up, and then the coordinates to send it back. Should be about a 5 minute warm up time. Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this.\"\n\n\"Well... My wife and I are geeks when it comes to gadgets and new tech, do you mind if we look around?\" \n\n\"Of course not, like I said, you have 5 minutes warm up time.\"\n\nJason was pleased. As strange as the night had gone, nothing seemed harmful about any of these interactions. Jason walked back to his wife and told her about the phone call. Together, they went aboard the Orb and looked around, but Hannah couldn't shake a bad feeling in her stomach. When she looked inside the Orb, she saw things that impressed her, like how clean and pristine everything looked, how nothing about this ship looked alien or like a backyard project by over enthusiastic engineers. She told her husband, \"Lets get this girl aboard and get out of here.\" \n\nTogether, Jason and Hannah pressed the button. Both exited the Orb, and Hannah stood aside while Jason went to pick up Kelsey. He lifted her in his arms and took her into the ship. Hannah felt the bad feeling in her stomach become a pit when the ramp started retracting. The door slid shut and the rocket engine activated. Inside the Orb, Jason felt the metal beneath his feet rumbling, and heating up. When the doors closed he dropped Kesley and spun around, smashing the door with his fists. Then scrambling to his the screen and the buttons around the cockpit. \n\nThe sudden force pushing down on Jason let him know that the ship took off. And that he just left his wife behind. Barely keeping his balance, Jason moved into one of the two chairs int he small, circular space, while trying to keep a foot on Kelsey, who was passed out on the floor. Suddenly the screen activated again, and a humanish face greeted Jason. \"Hello, I'm sorry about the cloak and dagger. I didn't know how else I would get you on this ship.\"\n\n\"WHAT. THE. FUCK?!!! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING ME?\"\n\nPanting and nearly hyperventilating Jason's eyes darted around the cabin, and his attention kept being brought back to the face in front of him, which only gave expressions of remorse, and determination.\n\nThe Human-like face pursed his lips, and seemed to settle on it's next words. \"Well, I cant take you back... Haven't you wondered why my name is Noah?\"\n\n\nEdit1: thanks for catching that\n\nIf you like this, check out /r/TheCrazyTexansStories" ]	2
Don't have to include the quote itself, just that demons (real or figurative/metaphorical) come at night.	[WP]...at night, when the demons come.	[ "\"Sorry, rookie, the overnight shifts aren't available for humans.\" \n\n\"C'mon, I got a kid on the way!\" protested the young man. \"I need the hours.\"\n\nThe foreman adjusted his cap and peered at the newcomer. He shrugged. \"Sorry, can't help you. At night, that's when the demons come. We don't mix the teams.\" \n\nHis shoulders slumped, the young man watched the foreman move on to the next workstation. This is bullshit, he fumed. Damned redskins, they don't even use money! \n\nThe young man knew that the demons were necessary for the war effort, of course. The Invaders were only two light years away, according to current projections, and moving at relativistic speeds. There was very little time to finish the work. So little time to prepare. \n\nThe young man hung up his hard hat and tool belt, and prepared to punch out. He hesitated. His pay was calculated on the basis of his clocked-in time. If I just don't clock out, he wondered, do I get paid? \n\nHe put his time card back in his chest pocket. Why not stay? Human workers were supposed to vacate the plant well before midnight, but surely some humans had to stay and supervise the demons. \n\nThe young man found an empty shipping crate in one of the work bays. He climbed inside and carefully lowered the lid. A few small holes allowed him to watch. \n\nHours passed and the plant slowly emptied. The young man watched the foreman usher the last of the human workers out the door. When they were gone, the foreman turned on the massive freight elevator and punched in a security code. The elevator sunk into the floor and disappeared. \n\nA minute passed. Two minutes. Then, faintly at first, the young man heard howls and screams bellowing up from the elevator shaft. There were deep-throated roars and blood-curdling shrieks, and he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. The stench of sulfur permeated the air. He wrinkled his nose. \n\nThe elevator reappeared in the shaft and came to a stop. The doors open, and the young man saw his first demons. \n\nThe demons came in many sizes and colors. First came the smaller demons: goblins and imps who bounded off the elevator. Their toolbelts jangled and bounced as they barrelled past the foreman. \n\n\"Hard hats, gentlemen,\" chided the foreman, \"Please! Your hard hats!\" \n\nA huge, lumbering demon slapped the foreman on the back, almost knocking the man over. \"Always with the hard hats, you are,\" said the demon.\n\n\"But, OSHA requirements-\" sputtered the foreman.\n\nThe demon laughed, a huge booming sound that reverberated through the work bay. \"OSHA? OUR HEADS ARE ALREADY STONE! HA HA HA!\" The demon pulled a massive wrench off the elevator and disappeared down a hallway. The foreman just shook his head. \n\nThe young man watched as the demons began to work. An archdemon had positioned itself near the massive, building-sized engine of one of the battlecruisers. Gesturing with its clawed hands, the demon uttered an incantation as dark energy flowed into the engine block. The young man knew that the dark magic was necessary to power the spacecraft, but he had never realized how intimately involved the demons were. \n\nNearby, a succubus was supervising two behemoths as they prepared to load a missile with a hellstone payload. The hellstone cubes were the darkest black the young man had ever seen, and their surface had been etched with indecipherable runes. The runes glowed a deep red as the behemoths struggled to lift the cubes into the missile. \n\nThe succubus twirled a long black whip as she watched. The behemoths talked as they worked. Their voices were harsh and gravelly, but the young man heard them well enough. \n\n\"Why-\" said one of the massive demons, \"are we helping the meat.\" \n\n\"Boss's orders.\" said the other. They dropped a hellstone cube into the missile with a loud thump. \"Destroy the otherworldlings.\" \n\n\"Yes,\" agreed the first demon. It reached down to grab another cube. \"But why?\" \n\nThe succubus snapped her whip. \"Because, you idiots,\" she said. \"Once the Invaders are finished with the meat, we're next. Boss says that the Invaders can get into the Red Kingdom, he's never seen anything like it before.\" \n\nThe two behemoths looked at her with a blank look on their thick faces. \n\n\"Gah, you thick fucks,\" the succubus spat. \"We help the humans or we lose Hell. Forever.\" \n\nThe behemoths laughed and continued their work. \n\nOne of the behemoths moved closer to the crate where the young man hid. As the demon bent down to grab another cube, its nostrils flared. \n\n\"Meat,\" it said. The other two demons looked over. \"I smell meat.\" \n\nThe young man froze in fear. The other demons sniffed the air. Suddenly, the crate's lid flew off and a massive hand pulled the man into the air. \n\n\"Yum,\" said the behemoth, licking its lips as it inspected the young man. \n\n\"Save me his cock and fingers, please,\" said the succubus. \n\n***** \nThe foreman sat in an observation booth overlooking the work bay. He had pulled out several report forms when he realized that the rookie had never clocked out. The foreman had seen other workers pull the same trick before. It usually ended poorly. He looked down at the forms on his desk. One was titled \"Workers' Compensation Claim Form - Injury.\" The other form simply read \"Accidental Death Report.\" The foreman's pen hovered over one form, then the other. He watched as the behemoth pulled the rookie out of a crate. \n\nThe foreman waited for the proceedings to work themselves out below. After a moment, he sighed and began to fill out one of the forms. He hated paperwork. \n\n\n\n", "Have no fear, you little one \n\tat night, when the demons come \nWhen there's no light, and no more sun \n\tat night, when the demons come \nThey'll fly and fight and never run \n\tat night, when the demons come \nWith heart and mind and soul as one \n\tat night, when the demons come \n-Common child's rhyme, author unknown, first recorded 104 YAA \n \n~~~ Prologue ~~~\n \nIt is the year 517, in the current reckoning of Years After the Angelium. Scholarship, what little of it can be devoted to such things, place the date around mid-Autumn, 2532 AD, by the old reckoning. \n \nFor generations, humanity had yearned to know whether they were alone in the universe, looking to the stars for answers. If they had known the price of their curiosity, perhaps they never would have asked. \n \nOn December 23, 2015, a chill spread across the world, and humanity froze in place. The Angelium. Faceless beings with technology far superior to our own. They attacked without warning, without remorse. They refused all forms of communication and every offer of peace. Our opposition, it seemed, was hopeless. \n \nAs governments fragmented and people sought safety, the remnants of the great world empires formed new borders, new alliances. Through it all, humanity refused to give up in defeat. \n \nThe Paclantic Empire comprised most of what was left of the United States, Canada, Australia, Europe, and West Russia. \n \nThe Asian Confederation was made up of the remnants of China, Japan, Korea, East Russia, and India. \n \nThe Asian Confederation poured its resources and its greatest minds into NERVA, and created towering humanoid monoliths. These dire robots fought the Angelium to a stalemate, establishing the world's first safe zone, 'Eden'. \n \nThe Paclantic Empire, was hard at work on its own Valhalla Project. Soon, Valhalla scientists and engineers had made their own discovery. By chance, a researcher realized that certain children possessed a genetic mutation which he dubbed 'Delta-Mu'. \n \nThrough the use of nanomachines, these children could make use of Angelium Technology. Candidates who showed promising response to the Delta-Mu Nanomachine therapy were referred to by the acronymn DMN, or 'Demon'. By day, they play and laugh and love in what is left of the world they call home. At night, they streak the skies, fighting tirelessly to bring peace to the Empire and safety to its people. \n \nThis is their story... ", "Yorick peered out through the thin slits of the wall, far off in the darkness down the wide abandoned street, he could see stirring shadows.\n\nAs the last of the New 'ork's citizens huddled into the keep, Yorrick and the rest of the guard shut the gates closed.\n\nWith the gates closed, piercing and tortured howls began to rumble through the air, the horde was upon them.\n\nDark foul beasts from a time before the end of civilization, created from the power of radiation and nuclear fire.\n\nGripping their spears and clubs of rebar and sheet metal, Yorrick and the rest of the guard formed a crude shield wall, awaiting the oncoming horde of foul beasts.\n\nThe newer and younger warriors trembled at the sight of these demons, who were once human, but their minds and bodies were twisted and distorted into unnatural shapes and angles. They charged out at the gate, howling and screeching all the way. Pale ghastly figures, sprinting on all fours, jaws gaping with razor teeth and clawed hands.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] On every full moon, the cursed wolf becomes a werehuman and terrorizes the wolf community.	[ "OOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWwww!, the newly formed human screamed. Apparently the transformation process is a bit painful. The were-human looked around, doing his best to make sense of his surroundings and his existence. He finally came to the conclusion that he exists because he thinks. Or maybe he thinks because he exists. It doesn't matter. What does matter is the colony of wolves circled around him. \n\n\"Damn,\" he exclaims. \"I was starting to like this new body.\" \n\nHe knew he was something new, but could not recall what he was before. Then, he heard a voice just before the wolves were going to attack. \n\n\"Jerry, what the hell happened to you?\"\n\n\"I'm surrounded by wolves, help me!\"\n\n\"Of course you are asshole, we are your pack. How could you not remember?\"\n\n\"I guess I'm a little dazed from the whole process. What do you guys do anyway?\"\n\n\"Kill elk and eat elk. Sometimes bison too.\"\n\n\"I will help you with that, I have these hands for making tools.\"\n\nThe first idea was to sharpen a stick. Jerry proceeded to find a suitable branch and bring it to the nearest outcropping of rocks. He threw cobbles at the ground until they shattered. These sharp bits had just the edge to form a handy spear. The pack went out to the local elk hangout to score dinner. Jerry managed to bag a moderate sized buck, scaring away all the the other elk. It was a failure. One deer is only enough to feed Jerry and provide the tiniest snack for the rest of the pack. Jerry had it covered though.\n\n\"Although the spear didn't work as planned, I believe that surrounding the deer is our only option.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's what we always do, you big hairless dummy.\"\n\n\"That is not what i meant. we should build a barricade around the meadow.\"\n\nThey began collecting sticks until the full moon passed. Jerry was a wolf again. Everyone rejoiced. They continued to collect sticks for the next month, alongside their regular schedule of conventional elk hunting. \n\nThe next full moon arrived, and they had amassed piles of sticks around the meadow. The human side of Jerry knew what to do. He then architected and constructed a vast wall. This surrounded the entire meadow except for an opening for the elk to roam on their usual meadow-going route. Jerry cleverly closed the opening by sliding the last wall into place. The wolves began to chase and feast like it was going out of style, which it was. \n\nJerry saw the devastating effects the wolves performed on a trapped herd. He told the pack that the free-for-all chase is no longer allowed, because the whole herd could be wiped out within months. His new plan is a breeding clinic.\n\n\"We must save the tastiest looking elk to produce more elk in a controlled manner.\"\n\nIt took another full moon before the pack had a successful farm in operation. The farm ran in this way for many moons, however, it proved to be too successful at making elk. The wolves became lazy and bored now that their time was no longer spent on survival alone. \n\nHairless Jerry came out once a month to 'improve' on the situation. He provided amenities in the form of shelter and wolftertainment, which is his term for toys to keep the wolves busy. \n\nAfter many more moons, the shanty wolf town had become almost entirely automated. The wolves now spent most of their time in small rooms using the math Hairless Jerry had taught them. These were used to solve problems, which No-Hair-Jerr had set up to further optimize the town. \n\nA couple more full moons later, and the city was providing prepared slabs of elk meat at regular intervals to keep the wolves nourished. The wolves continued crunching numbers, but they felt no more purpose. \n\nNo-Hair-Jerr began using his one day per month (two, sometimes) devising ways to exploit the autonomous system for his own gain. He even used the wolves to crunch the numbers for his hedonistic schemes. None of the wolves knew this at first, not even Wolf Jerry. However, as moon cycles went on, the wolves began to realize Jerry is the alpha. This was due to his much larger living quarters, and endless portions of elk. The smart wolves caught on, and began to get on Jerry's good side for the extra portion of steak every now and again. \n\nIt wasn't long before Jerry became complacent, and gave everyone extra food. They even had access to advanced forms of Wolftertainment. However, Full Moon Jerry made the decision to continue to exploit the number crunching to surmount trivial gains for himself. He shared some of the bounty with the rest of the wolves, but the quality of life was now far worse than when they were just hunting elk and eating elk. The longed to go back to that way of life, but knew deep down that they could never manage it now that they are living the lazy lifestyle. The pack was free from the burden of survival, but were terrorized by the boredom and health problems that the werehuman's automated sedentary lifestyle had created.\n", "A metal bullet ricocheted off tree trunks and buried itself into the leaf-covered dirt. Blue-eyes darted back into the woods, an angry man howling behind him. From the back porch of his big box nest, the man raised his silver weapon in the air. \n\nBlue-eyes sniffed his fur, inspecting for wounds. Lucky this time. \n\nNo, he was not lucky. He snarled at the thought. This was all once wolf land. His land. Now he cannot even visit the stream without man threatening him.\n\nMan. They came to the forest in their rumbling cages and built their big box nests. Their sharp wires and blinding lights and screaming offspring. They even scared away wolf prey. Trying to starve them out, no doubt. Monsters.\n\nWith one last look behind him, Blue-eyes scampered further into the forest. He must return to Half-fang and the rest of his pack to alert them of another man sighting. Wind blowing against his whiskers, Blue eyes sprinted between the trees. He stopped only once to drink from a puddle in the mud, thinking of the clear, flowing water he once had. His tongue made ripples in the puddle, causing the moonlight to ripple like a-\n\nThe moon. Not again. \n\nBlue-eyes let out a whimper. His stomach lurched as he felt his paws tingle. His claws receded, replaced by long floppy fingers-- perfect for grasping man-weapons. His snout shoved against his brain and hair withered away, replaced by pale, moon-colored flesh. \n\nIn his puddle, Blue-eyes gazed at his ugly face in horror. No, he wouldn't be able to return to his pack tonight. He would spend the night alone-- alone with the monster staring back at him.", "No! don't go over there!\n\nTheres something wrong in that part of the woods,everyone knows.\n\nWhen the nights are brightest bad things happen.\n\nBut you heard a howling? ... Ah... it was a strange howling wasn't it?\n\nLet me tell you , whatever made that howl was no wolf.\n\nNo.\n\nIt was The Beast.\n\nThe Beast?\n\nA furless horror,it has no nose but a instead a flat face that just..ends.\n\nIt has no fangs,and moves slowly yes,but it has unnatural powers.\n\nIt can command the ground to swallow you!\n\nIt can make sharp rocks fly like birds to bite you!\n\nIt can call the Sun down to earth in the depths of night!\n\nIf it finds you it will tear the skin from your body and place it upon itself,to cover it's hideous toad like skin.\n\nStay away from there.\n\nWhat do you mean you already know?\n\nI should have taken my own advice?\n\nWait..you smell strange..\n\n\n\nStay awa-YELP" ]	3
	[WP] Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay.	[ "\"Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay. That's what I have to say to you, Connor.\n\n\"I was supposed to be this big shot, like my dad, earning wealth and riches, being incredibly smart, powerful and amazing. I was supposed to marry a beautiful woman,\" \"A woman? But what abo-\" \"Don't interrupt. Anyways, I was supposed to marry a beautiful woman and have kids with her. Be the pinnacle of masculinity. And for a long time, it was what I wanted. It was what I dreamed to be.\n\n\"A classy businessman. And for a bit, I thought your other dad was in the way of that. I thought that marrying him would be the worst mistake of my life. But it really wasn't. \n\n\"He pulled me in. With smooth words and an incredibly hot body.\" \"Daddyyyy!\" \"Shush, and I fell in love with him. He helped me come to terms with who I was. And lemme tell ya, having you was the best thing that ever happened.\n\n\"And really, the life that I have now is ten times better than if I'd gone with my dad. I love him. I love being a stay-at-home dad. I love it. An' I love you too.\" \"I love ya daddy.\" My son, Connor, crawls into my lap, kisses my cheek. I smile. Life is good.", "Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay.\n\nThe endless clicking of the keyboards began to emanate in Alan's consciousness. They all seemed to be in unison- a tribal song. With each beat, the echo seemed to get stronger. It was choking him. \n\nAlan abruptly stood up, glancing uneasily at the manager. But he was asleep, slouched on his desk chair. Alan quickly shuffled down the narrow corridor. The fluorescent light beat down on his brow, and with each step the bustle of the office slowly drown in silence. \n\nAlan quickly glanced at his watch- 6:35. Sunset began a minute ago- he was late. In a flurry, he began sprinting. It seemed that he couldn't go a single day without at least glancing at the sunset. He knew the times like clockwork. The blood red sky always seemed to crash into the monotony of blue-- to ruin the plainness of it. It was beautiful. \n\nAlan slowly came to a stop, resting his hand on the outline of the windowsill. A smile slowly crept upon his face. His eyes grew wide, breath settled. Bliss. \n\n\"Would be better flying\", he chuckled. \n\nAlan glanced once again at his pilots watch. The initials 'W.F' scratched on the bezel- his fathers. It was supposed to be a gift, for when Alan got his wings. But after the accident- and the partial blindness- that wouldn't happen. Flying was \"out of the question\".\n\nBut he could still watch the sky. It was late. Alan dragged himself from the window. A new report was due next week, and he was already behind. But he'd be back tomorrow. \n\n\"Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay\", he muttered as he waddled back, the sounds of the office effacing him.\n", "Fingers dance upon his thighs as his shoulders draw upward and inwards, eyes shut and nose scrunched as he holds his breath. Ron hopes that for even a moment he might become invisible. Somehow the teacher would overlook him and his turn would be passed. She addresses the children, standing side by side in single file, with a clear and slow tone. Her words are crucial. Rarely, a student speaks up to ask for elaboration or repetition, prolonging Ron's pain. Twenty-two. There were twenty-two people before him. Nineteen, Thirteen, Seven, Five, Four. He couldn't hold his breath any longer and his eyes had begun to ache from how tightly they were closed.\n\nRon breathed deeply and opened his eyes to find that he was among the few that remained. It was as he had dreamt. The audience was growing as his nerves continued to fray. A mixture of ineptitude and stage-fright would be his undoing. Three. Ron stared at his feet and wiggled his toes just to make sure that he still could. Sweat began to percolate on his arms and forehead as only two people stood between him and utter failure. He would be the laughing-stock of the class. Surely he would forget the question, deliver an unrelated answer, or be unable to speak at all. A low squeak escaped his parting lips as his attentions turned towards his voice. How long had it been since he last spoke? He couldn't remember. There was one person left. Ron felt hot, the room seemed to be shrinking, and he couldn't maintain his focus.\n\n“Ron!” the teacher called out as he was startled from his daze.\n\n“Y-yes, ma'am!” he answered back as a few chuckles emerged from his classmates.\n\n“Do you need me to repeat your word?” she asked.\n\n“I-yes, please,” he replied hesitantly.\n\n“Your word is incandescent,” she repeated as Ron finally listened. “Like an incandescent bulb. Incandescent.”\n\nClosing his slackened mouth, Ron took a moment to think about the word. He was certain that they had covered it at some point earlier in the year. His mind scoured loose memories of notes that he had taken, passages that he had read aloud, and lectures that had been given to him. Somewhere in this heap of unused knowledge, he found something that resembled the answer that he was searching for. Air flooded his nostrils as he took another deep breath and crammed his hands in his pockets.\n\n“I-n-c-a-n” Ron began, thinking of the civilization that had went by the same name. He repeated this word to himself quietly as he broke the remainder of the word down further. It was the end that troubled him. There was a 't' to close things off, but that 's' sound was what bothered him. Again he mulled over the word as his classmates began to voice their chagrin. The teacher prompted him to continue lest he be disqualified. “d-e-s—c—e-n-t?”\n\n“Correct!” his instructor responded with a beaming smile as he received scattered applause. “Good job, Ron.”\n\n-267", "I woke up sweating, and I wasn't sure why. \nImmediately I stood up, my thoughts washing by. \nI think, I'm almost certain, I was having a nightmare. \nLuckily all the monsters had vanished mid-air. \n \nSo don't worry about that, as if you're going to die, \nJust make yourself a warm brew.. \nIt's okay, and do you know why? \nBecause sometimes dreams don't come true. " ]	4
	[WP] You are part of an ancient order that ensures humanity's progression. After your training, you are sent to a remote cottage where you are told to await a letter. Forty-seven years later, that letter arrives with your new task.	[ "Finally. It arrived. After all this waiting. All these years. They told me it would take time. 'Nothing this important can happen over night', they said. 'When it's time, you alone will be poised to act. To take the human race into a new age.'\n\nI breath deep, and open the letter.\n'Sorry, but you're kind of an idiot, and everyone hates that thing you do. We decided the best, most humane thing to was isolate you and keep you out of the gene pool. \n\nBest wishes,\n\nUtopia", "A cozy accommodation with a beautiful view, furnished with traditional cottage equipment and enough stores to last a lifetime.\n\n\nDuring training, that would have meant that the Elders had rented out a cheap student studio with the view of a parking lot with used IKEA furniture and a refrigerator from the 70s, leaking into my soul at every breathe.\n\n\nSo, when I first arrived at the cottage, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the cottage, while small, was more cozy than cramped, the scenery around peaceful and tranquil and the \"stores,\" rather satisfying. What they neglected was to provide adequate shaving equipment, such that bears might breed with me at first glance.\n\n\nThe Elders had instructed me to wait for my time to come, when the world needed me most, I could rejoin them, filled with the desire to help, not harm humanity.\n\n\nI waited, and with each sunrise and sunset, my mind became empty. I wasn't deluded that my time would be an arbitrary and sudden calling, but as the moons changed in cycle, filling up the sky with a bright glow, my empty mind began to fill with doubts.\n\n\nNot doubts to my faith or to my elders, but doubt to whether after such a time I could rejoin society with relevance. My training had prepared me for a tumultuous world of civil unrest, polarized politics, economic struggle, emotionless young and the changing tide of technology that swept the life of humanity away.\n\n\nI was confused, alone, but mostly afraid.\n\n---\nslip.\n\n\nIt was an unusually noise, one that I had only heard when the local deputy had slipped me a notice to stop bathing in the rivers. I walked over to the door and checked what warning I would be given this time around. \n\n\nThe envelope was a light beige, great craftsmanship, hand made, folded and glued. The letter inside bore no symbol or origin, but only had a letter filled with words. No signature either.\n\n\nThe message was short, but the instructions were odd, also written in a new modern fashion.\n\n\nYo, bruv it time yo. Yoz be needn sum shit so git it from Daggz in Bath. Go hit em hard, w8 lk yo traning did don ya. then git bak to teh plac and kik sum ass.\n\n\nI had the strange feeling that the world had changed a lot without me.", " It's been a long time since I've left the Order, too long. I have a family now, A wife and two great kids. What did they expect? They left me in a cottage with people, no amount of training could prepare me for the outside world. After 5 years I had stopped checking daily, then after 10, just once a month. They made me leave the Village at the age of 18, I'm 65 years old and the letter just showed up.\n\n I can't describe the emotion that I had felt whenever the letter showed up. It as if Death himself was standing at the door. An old, dreaded friend come back to visit. If you were to compare it to another letter you would see right away the age difference. The paper that the envelope was made out of was a pale yellow, and cracked around the edges. As I turned it over I saw the seal on the letter. A red wax amphitheatre the symbol for humanity, a play with no end in sight being directed by the few of us.\n\n As I opened the letter it felt like time slowed down and the temperature dropped. The paper within was very old, even older than the envelope. It was stiff and smudged, at one point in time it looked like it may have been burned as one of the corners was singed. The ink was not really ink, I believe that it was coal. I whispered the words aloud. They felt odd in my mouth, almost like I was speaking some foreign language older than all of us. As I read it I began to understand it more and more. I must have stood there for 30 minutes just reading it until I understood my task.\n\n My new task seemed impossible. It said that I would need to travel the world. Looking for one person. In a world of 7 billion I need to find the one that could save humanity from an upcoming enemy, the darkness. \"קדוש אחד\" The name that was used in the letter translates directly to holy one. The letter said that I would know who the person was when I saw them, as if I had some sort of mystical ability. I don't know how I will be able to travel the world, I'm 65 with a hip replaced. I guess the easiest thing to do would be just leave with no more contact with my family. They would assume that I'm dead that would be best. I hope the elders know what they're doing, because the task ahead looks pretty grim." ]	3
It's easy to write what I wish I could do, but I wonder what other people want. So write me that. I'm interested to see it.	[WP] Tell me what you wish you could live. It can be anything, from the most mundane, ordinary scenario to the most wild and fantastical. And write it any way you want.	[ "I wake up to same room I wake up in every day. I groggily get out of bed and walk past my computer and my gigantic bookshelf. I get dressed and I walk outside. Its always nice to walk outside and be greeted by a bunch of trees instead of the many idiots that make up society. I grab my bike and start running the trails behind my house. I always liked bike rides. They gave me time to think. I reached the lake where I could see the beautiful sunrise. I sat there for a little bit just admiring the sheer beauty of the natural world. This can't last forever though. Everyone has to deal with society sooner or later. I ride back to my house and take a shower. I walk out to my truck and start the long ride into the city. I didn't mind the traffic that much since I knew the destination was well worth it. I park far away because that is the only spot that I will ever bother finding. I start walking down the streets listening to all the live music coming from all of the coffee shops. All this cool music was probably the best part of my day. I stop in my favorite shop to grab a cup. I see a girl sitting in the corner. She looks lonely so I walk over to her. I ask if that seat was taken and she said no. We started having a pretty nice normal conversation which is not what I expected from her but I liked it not to crazy. I realize what time it is and say I have to get to work but I asked her if she would like to meet me here for lunch and she agreed so I headed out and completed my great walk through the city until I got to my office. As I sat down at my desk I say to myself \"What a great morning!\"", "Sunlight filtered through the glass, making the room look as though it was outside. I watched it, lazily spinning the dust motes with my hand. Part of me said I should probably clean, but in the midmorning like this, the dust was just another piece of beauty.\n\nBesides, I was too busy for something so mundane as cleaning.\n\nWell, I thought, I should probably get out of bed.\n\nI stretched, pushing the heavy blankets off of my body. I heard a thud- and then another, and another. How many books had I left on my bed last night? I was positive I had gotten all of them last night. I craned my neck and surveyed the damage- nothing valuable, thankfully, just a Latin dictionary, a tome of canine physiology, and one of my journals. Nothing that couldn't handle a good knocking.\n\nI bustled about, gathering the books I'd knocked down, and returned them to their spots on the shelves- three down, six over for the canine book; two from the top and seven over for the Latin; and the journal goes in the pile on my desk. I should really organize my notes, I thought, and then did as I always did and tucked that thought away for a later time.\n\nAs I dressed, I reviewed my day. I had to return my scrolls from Alexandria to the library today or the keepers would be after my head. The king wanted me to brief him on a particular historical battle someone he was meeting tomorrow was interested in, and of course I had the princess's Latin lessons. \n\nWas that really it? I wracked my brains, trying to remember, but that really did seem to be it. Maybe I'd have time to get the most recent book from Maximillian tonight, and maybe even eat in the dining hall instead of in my room. \n\nI smiled, and began gathering my scrolls.", "Tomorrow was the departure, flight 890 from London to Seattle. Another flight, another life, another story.\n\nLondon had spanned four years. I'd come there from Valparaiso, and there from Boston, and there from Vienna, and so on and so forth.\n\nI was an odd type of traveler. Most stay a week in a city. I stay years.\n\nWhat do you do in a week? See some touristy spots? The London Eye? Westminster? Bleh.\n\nNo, with years, you learn about a city and its people. You make friends from all walks of life, you find the best pubs and appreciate them over the years, you find the love of your life at least three times, and you try your best not to get kicked out of the country all the while.\n\nThe sights and sounds of London would never leave me. I'd made best friends with a banker named Hannah from Chelmsford. I'd never heard of Chelmsford before her. We'd meet a bloke named James at a club in Chelsea every weekend, and occasionally, the three of us took trips together to Scotland because goddamn was that accent wonderful. \n\nAs I look out over the night lights of London from my flat for the last time, I begin to tear up. I was going to miss life here.\n\nOne time, the tube drivers all went on strike, and I had to walk four miles across the center of the city. I got hungry halfway through, and ended up finding this amazing Italian place. I told Hannah about it, and we promised to go sometime. \n\nWe never did.\n\nWe'd all said our goodbyes earlier. There were many tears shed, but it was the way of things. I realized now that I'd forgotten to hug James before he left. It's odd, the regrets you have later on. It was never the things you did do, but the ones you didn't do.\n\nBack in Valparaiso, I once tried to learn how to surf. Ever since I was a child, I'd wanted to give it a go. I was told that the way the board smacked my face as it all went tits up was majestic.\n\nBut no regrets, at least it made for a funny story to tell at parties.\n\nTalia was a girl I'd met at those same surfing lessons. We ended up dating for a year before I left, but she wouldn't leave her family behind to come with me. I think about that sometimes, though, if I'd just stayed with her. We could've married, as she wanted to. But I'd had my doubts about settling down, so I didn't. I miss her, though.\n\nThat's what brings me to the present, actually. This was all supposed to be about how great London was, but the thing is, things tend to blend together eventually. James got married, and we went to his wedding out in the countryside, where I was reminded of Talia, and that's when I finally decided.\n\nI'm going home.\n\nI wanted to settle down for once, to know what it was like to have lifelong friends and a house, to have a family. That's what's drawn me back to where it all began, the first place I called home.\n\nHome has been Seattle, Des Moines, Vienna, Boston, Valparaiso, and now London. I'm tired now, of starting a new life for myself among amazing people and incredible cities, only to leave it all again. Only for friendships to deteriorate to Facebook messages and cities to yearnings for distant restaurants and plazas.\n\nI've been guided all my life by wanderlust, but finally I have grown wise enough to accept that I can't live every life. I will never experience everything, everyplace, everyone. It's been a weary lesson that's spanned almost two decades, but it's made me the man I am today, for which I'm proud.\n\nYet, if I had the chance to tell my younger self this all, I wouldn't do it. My childhood dream had been to see the world, and you know what?\n\nWe regret the things we didn't do infinitely more than the things we did, and my greatest fear was always that one day, I'd find myself on my deathbed a regretful, old man.", "The pavement bent and warped as I walked, jiggling and wobbling as people moved around. Houses, lamp posts and trees wobbled and swayed around in the reddish sunrise. There was joy everywhere as children cheerfully giggled as they jumped around on their springy lawns.\n\nThe whole world was bouncy. There was no need for trampolines or bouncy castles. Everything is so squishy and bendy. Falling over doesn't hurt; and while cars are more difficult to drive, accidents have less tragic consequences. Hiking in the mountains is so much more fun, what with them shifting all over the place, and even cave exploration is exciting, the tunnels all bouncing around us. Football is still played, with the shifting and bouncy field making a nice twist of running around trying to kick the ball into the opponent's goal net.\n\nI stop and stood still, feeling butterflies inside of me as my body is gently bumped around as the ground wobbled up and down. I spread my arms to keep my balance. It was such a fun and happy sensation to experience.\n\nI get going again, but this time I start to jump, each landing from each leap causing my feet to press further down on the rubbery ground, and thus propelling me higher into the air. I cheerfully chuckle as I continue bounding through the neighbourhood, my hanging denim jacket flowing around me from each bounce.\n\nI love living in this world. It's so amazingly fun. I don't want to leave, ever.", "I had a dream last night, and I did not want to wake up. \n\nYou were there, with your hair shoved carelessy to the side. Your bright eyes were glimmering at the sight of me. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be looked at by you. We were only putting dishes away, but this moment was so sweet that I could not hold back my overwhelming joy, and I kissed you sweetly on the mouth.\n\n\"I love you,\" I told you. You smiled and hugged me tight, kissing the top of my head.\n\n\"I love you more.\" \n\nI could almost smell you when I breathed you in. Memories bleed through dreams like ink into the pages behind the one we're writing on. I couldn't bear it, and I woke suddenly with my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I was angry. I didn't want to wake up so soon. I wanted longer with you, there in that place in my dreams that held us together, tethered forever in the only place I wanted to live. \n\nI felt tears threaten the backs of my eyes, and I wanted all of those moments back, the ones I never got with you. Those ordinary moments that added up to equal the most grand and magical life I could have ever imagined. \n\nIt isn't fair, but I keep that life beneath my eyelids and I stay with you when I fall asleep. It's the only thing that keeps me alive. " ]	5
	[WP] The dust settles.	[ "Ansel Wronski urged his mount around using just his legs, his hand reaching down to ready another javelin from the leather bucket hanging from his saddle horn. The tough ash shaft smacked into his steerhide gaunlets, the razor steel catching the light of the afternoon sun. He turned his head -the helm he wore limited peripheral vision - and readied his four foot long throwing spear, cocking it back so that the blade nearly kissed his ear. \n\nHis foe turned his steed around not nearly so neat, cursing at the javelin embedded some three inches in the surface of his rounded shield. It was painted black with a rearing horse in white. The enemy himself was well to do by their standards with a boiled leather cuirass covered in old washer rings and a helm the ancient world called a 'Fritz' helmet, no doubt a precious heirloom passed down in the five decades since the Change. He carried a light lance some eight feet long, a small pennant attached just below the lance head snapped as he whipped it around to face Ansel. His young face revealed a few chipped teeth as he snarled, spewing spittle stained by tobacco.\n\n\"Fuckin' Lakelander!\" \n\nHe kicked his mount forward, shoving the reins between his teeth as he leveled his lance at Ansel.\n\nWronski's eyes were set with grim determination as he raised his shield to answered his foe's charge. \n\n\"Cumberland! Cumberland!\" shouted the highlander, lance flashing in the light.\n\n\"Wolverines!\" replied Ansel, his aim steady despite the thunder beneath his legs, his sweat soaking into his gambeson.\n\nHe threw his weapon with all his might with perhaps thirty feet between them, the javelin a blur as it flew true, the leaf shaped blade piercing a thick washer and the hardened leather underneath to dig into his foe's shoulder. \n\n*Crraackkk!!!* \n\nThe enemy lance impacted against his tear shaped shield, gouging a deep splinter that flew wildly away, the lance breaking under the momentum. Ansel was thrown back into his saddle, his head rolling back as near a ton and half of man and steed was driven into one narrow point. He felt dripping from his nose and tasted iron in his mouth, no doubt having bit his tongue. His mind revolted against action but he clamped down on it, the danger of a concussion less urgent than potential and rather immediate iron poisoning. \n\nHe drew his saber from its sheath with a hiss of steel on leather, the rawhide wrapped round its hilt stained with sweat. \n\nHis foe was decidedly less well off, the mountain man cursing a blue streak as he threw away the useless broken lance. Gripping the javelin just behind the blade he yanked it out of his shoulder, a strangled scream as the air reached the wound. Blood flowed from the hole in his armor, not enough to be lethal but just enough to weaken him. He knew that as well and so grabbed a hold of his 'shete, waving above his head as he gave a catamount shriek and kicked his horse forward again. Ansel followed suit, blade extended as far as he could reach.\n\n\"Huzzah! Huzzah!\" he cried as steel met with steel in a spray of sparks. The pair circled around one another, their blades biting shield or glancing sword but not flesh. A back handed swipe clang off of Ansel's chain mail shirt, scraping a thin bright line across its surface as his saber sliced off an edge of his foe's shield. Beneath them their horses snorted and kicked, their hooves churning up even more dust into the air. The clansman had at least fifty pounds on Ansel but couldn't use it to his advantage, his wound soaking his undershirt red. It was his shield arm that was hurt and Ansel focused on that side, slashing in every direction and forcing his foe to tire himself shifting his shield all around. It didn't take long for the six or seven pound shield to fell like thirty, and bit by bit his blocks were just that more sluggish, the wince in his face deeper and deeper.\n\nAnsel saw his chance and slashed with a flick of his wrist, forcing the enemy horseman to moved his shield just slightly to the left to block it. It was enough. With the same wrist action he flick it over his helmeted head and across the now unguarded right side of his foe, the first four inches of his curved blade catching the highlander in the jaw. \n\nTeeth were shattered in their sockets as his cheek was slashed through, the blade also cutting through the chin strap of his helmet which toppled to the dusty ground. He screamed even louder than before, dropping both blade and shield to clench at his ruined face. Ansel did not allow him even a moment's respite, and hacked down viciously with his saber, the wet blade rising and falling like a cleaver. Washers were broken in two as his leather armor cracked, shoulder blade was broken under the bludgeoning even as the blade sunk itself deep into his enemy's neck. The man died still clutching his face, toppling from his panicking horse and onto the ground. Ansel spat on the dead man in mocking salute, giving him the finger as he circled the body.\n\n\"When you get to hell, tell 'em a Michigander sent ya!\"\n\n ", "The dust settles. He's still untouched, and as much as I hate to admit it, he's getting on my nerves.\n\nHis smirk puts me into an even worse mood. His one-liner is the clincher:\n\n\"Is that all you've got?\"\n\nReally? I think to myself, dropping my blade slightly. He's one of the most powerful beings of all time, and he literally just said 'is that all you've got.' That's just a low blow.\n\nMy eyes drift slightly to the right. My entire team was there. All of them were either dead or unconscious for a while. We came in here with a hundred, and now, it was just me and him.\n\nI look back to see him still standing there as though he's in a spotlight that won't move. Poised like he's just made a grand entrance, and a look on his face like he's proud of his son for graduating from Kindergarten.\n\n\"I'm utterly disappointed if that's all you can give. I was hoping for quite a bit more, to be honest,\" he quipped, taking a small, single step towards me.\n\n\"Yeah, well, don't worry. The best is yet to come.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it is. I hope it is, my friend.\"\n\nMan I hate this guy.\n\nIn the blink of an eye, I pull my hand back hard, the knives stuck into the wall coming out from the tension on the strings. I quickly throw a knife into the air, lobbing it so as to assure that if he jumped, he would get hit.\n\nThen, I rush, pushing myself off using Lightning in my body to supercharge my muscles. I near him and see all of my knives converging on the one point where he is.\n\nI swing, firing Lightning from behind my hand to propel it faster.\n\nMandrid doesn't even flinch as he catches my blade, and then uses it to hit all the other knives I had sent in motion. I stand, awestruck as he effortlessly yanks the blade to my left, pulling my sword out of my grip.\n\nThe fire in his eyes isn't one of evil or hatred; it's one of playful glee.\n\n\"I see now. That was your best.\"\n\nIt was at that moment that I realized that I stood no chance against this guy. I was going to lose. Heck, I hadn't stood a chance in the first place. He was too strong.\n\n\"Well then, I guess I'll just have to finish this. You offer me no entertainment or challenge.\"\n\nHe takes my blade and throws it. I yell in pain as the string I had attached to it snaps, pulling my wrist and cutting it. I don't even have time to grab it as he takes a step, picks me up with one hand, and hurls me in the same direction as my sword:\n\nOut the window and into the air 10 stories above the ground.\n\nI really hate Mandrid. I really hate that guy.\n\n____\n\nMeh. It's probably pretty bad. I honestly don't know how to write all that well. Send me critique. I could desperately use it.", "The dust settles once the last man falls dead. As dreams leave their incarnation, blood paints the rivers. The war was beautiful, it's only the result that's not. Hordes of men who've trained years for this, so tense they hardly blink their eyes. It's the beginning of a new era, the rebirth of the strong men who have been suppressed by religion for years. Strength, passion and fearlessness will replace hope, forgiving and kindness. It could be no other way, forced in this way of life by scarcity of goods. It's kill or die. The weak are a waste of resources, the intellectuals have long fled this world. This war was one of the first of it's kind. No last resort, but a way to settle things from now on. Politics have failed and so has kindness. The strong will prevail and the natural order restores itself.", "I've seen his type before. The kind who spends his night on the town looking for women already half in the bag. He's not very subtle, this one; I can see him chatting it up with girls, trying to distract them from their drinks, twiddling a little pill in his right hand under the table while sipping from his own cheap beer. He dresses badly and is pushing too hard. The chicks won't dig it and most of them slink off to dance or disappear in the crowd. He doesn't take it personally--if he could talk to people, get laid, he wouldn't have the pills in the first place.\n\nI watch him for long enough and decide to make my move. I sit next to him and start talking. At first I'm the one doing the chatting but he quickly takes over the conversation and goes into a long rant about his own interesting fake job, gesticulating wildly. He's some kind of desk jockey. After awhile he points across the bar to the wall of pinball machines, thinking I give a shit. I look and he drops the pills in my drink--I know he does because he's sloppy and I can see it happening in my peripheral vision.\n\nEcstasy or roofies, it doesn't matter. Either way it'll turn me into a slobbering mess if I down another sip of my drink. I turn back and he keeps talking about work. Aren't you the hero of the office, I say, and then nod at the bartender. I take advantage of the scumbag's particular brand of misanthropy and start criticizing the way the bartender favors the eighteen-year-old girls. He looks at them and I plop my own two pills in his beer. \n\nFor a moment I think I might get caught. The drink is still swirling with bubbles as the pills disintegrate and he looks back to me. But he has no idea this was a trap, that when the dust of those dissolving capsules settles and disintegrates his fate is sealed. I cheers him. He takes a long pull on his pint, to encourage me to down mine. But I don't actually take any of the booze in my mouth--I just let it wet my lips and I make a show of swallowing and coughing a little.\n\nThe man nearly finished his drink. I get up to go to the washroom. By the time I get back, a small crowd has gathered by his stool and the music has stopped: he is a small, convulsing form on the floor. I leave the bar among cries for an ambulance. ", "The dust settles on a burned world, plutonium fire having rained from a thousand wrathful fists of iron and steel. The wind blows slow and mournful across Texas plains touched now only by the hand of starlight, a windmill creaking its sad steely cricket song-- chirp, chirp, chirp. Nothing moving now except the scorched remnants of nature itself.\n\nTime passes and deep below the broken and cratered crust of the earth something blinks awake, a lone last contingency forged in a forgotten lab. It claws its way upward, seeking a sky it has never seen. It pushes against a cracked concrete tube, sometimes digging, sometimes climbing. It takes agonizing hours, but eventually a single hole pokes through and moonlight streams in. It quivers and emerges into a forest of Oklahoma hickory and briars, rough and tangled as it is. It gazes into an infinity of stars.\n\nThe remains of a burned cabin yield a graying, sodden blanket for a cloak and a floppy cap. The forest yields a stout walking stick. Like a moonlit shadow, it passes silent across the earth... searching, seeking.\n\nWhat am I?\n\nThe thought surprises it, and it looks again at the trees. Images, half-memories run together in its mind. Impossible dreams, someone else's thoughts... many someones. It sighs and sits, listening.\n\nI am the first and last. I am the alpha and the omega.\n\nIt scratches its chin, following the line of thought.\n\nI am... alone.\n\nIts chin falls to its chest as the lonesome wind passes through the summer leaves. Hunger comes on with the rotating warmth of the sunrise, and it looks around in confusion. Before long there's a small stack of hickory nuts and it's clumsily cracking them with a flat rock.\n\n\"Bet you wish you had one of these, huh?\"\n\nIts head whips around. There is... another, dressed in what are dimly recognized as faded Army fatigues and a mountaineer's pack. It blinks slowly in confusion as the other laughs easily and brandishes the flat of a hatchet.\n\n\"Try this.\"\n\nIt makes short work of the nut shells now, and they're shared equally. The two sit in silence for a while, contemplating each other. It shivers as a light rain begins to fall, pattering through the leaves.\n\n\"You're going to need better clothes. There's an intact National Guard post about three kilometers down the old highway. It's where I got these. Although I've got to say, I don't mind you in that. Though you could stand to lose the hat.\"\n\nIt blushes deeply and accepts an outstretched hand, standing up. It coughs, swallows, breathes deeply, and then...\n\n\"The hat stays.\"\n\nOther nods, \"but you're coming with me.\"\n\nSomehow it is okay with that." ]	5
Feel free to think about this sentence from every possible angle.	[WP] "We took too long. It cannot be removed anymore."	[ "It had been too long, the tumour had grown and it had taken over. On the bed he rested, the sun of a cloudy day painting him in grey. He had lost his battle, his war. His breaths went beneath and above his chest, sinking and filling. They were slow, chaotic, tired. He looked around the room. To his wife, her curly hair matted from stress and apathy. To his son, his pale green eyes growing in fear and acceptance. These were his final minutes, seconds alive. He relished and dreaded them. They would be his best and they would be his worst. They held hands now, their last chance to do so.", "A ripple of panic and fear swept the room. Faces turned white. Cutlery clanged to the floor and my breath caught in my throat. Looking down, at the gruesome mistake, everyone tried to comprehend the full-scale of effect this would have. How much this would change the course of not just the night, but all their lives. Things would never be the same.\n\nAnna let out a small squeal, buried her face in her hands and rushed out form the room, a few others following her as well. For me though, I had to remain composed. Keep order and control and not let on to all the eyes that were slowly falling upon me, that I was positively shitting myself.\n\n\"I... this er... this is going to be OK. It hasn't gone everywhere...\"\n\nBefore I could finish, one of the men nearest the scene of the accident vomited into his hands and, he too, dashed from the room.\n\nBut one in the room looked different. Gave off a completely new aura. A vibe which caught my attention as it seemed to stand out now that I was calming down, observing my surroundings more. She was tall, slim and stern looking. Low eyebrows and slick black hair. Her arms were crossed across her small breasts and lips were pursed tight, revealing smoker's lines.\n\n\"Alex,\" She said. \"This is irreversible.\"\n\n\"I thought I had only a ration of cheese. It looked smaller I swear!\n\n\"Well the President's dinner is fucking ruined you idiot, absolutely ruined. Right before his big day tomorrow. How... how could you?\"\n\nI don't know quite how long I was stood there, in front of the ruined Lasagne, utterly drowned in cheese, until I noticed that everyone was gone, that I was alone with my misery and despair. And failure. \n\nI had failed the president in what could only be described as, a 'feta worse than death'.\n\n\n((I'm not even sorry.))", "\"You mean I'm stuck like this?\" I asked. \n\n\"Yes,\" said the doctor, \"You'll be stuck looking like an adorable little catboy in a maid outfit for the rest of your life.\"\n\nFlustered, I screamed, \"But I'm a super villain! I can't go through life looking like an adorable anything!\" \n\nThe doctor tried to calm me down.\n\n\"It really shouldn't be that much of a problem for you,\" he said, \"There are plenty of people with cat-themed personas. Both heroes and villains.\"\n\n\"Yes! And they're all sexy women, aren't they? You can't make a cat persona really work unless you're a hot chick with big knockers.\" \n\nThe doctor shook his head 'no' in disagreement with me.\n\n\"Every single villain has a tragic back story. The very best ones overcome what could be seen as a tragic disability and use it to define their persona. Two-face. The Joker. The Penguin. All them using tragic mutilations to define being great super villains. Your tragic story just involves-\n\n\"Being stuck as an adorable catboy in a maid outfit!\" I interrupted. \n\n\"Yes, pretty much,\" said the doctor. \n\nI sulked in the chair. Defiantly I gave a good hard tug on my kitty ears to try to make them come off. It hurt like hell, they were on there, a permanent part of me. \n\n\"Can I at least take the maid outfit off?\" I asked. \n\n\"Of course you can, it's just clothes,\" said the doctor, \"But seeing that you're a catboy now, maid outfits are pretty much your only option for clothing. Seeing a catboy in pants and a regular shirt is just...\"\n\n\"I get it, I get it,\" I said.\n\nI stood, and straightened out my skirt and apron, resigned to my fate. \n\n\"Got any medical advice for me before I leave?\" I asked. \n\n\"Try to avoid heroins with really big knockers. You're a catboy now, boobs are your weakness,\" said the doctor. \n\n\"Great. So that's.... basically all of them,\" I said.\n\n\"Pretty much,\" said the doctor. \n\n\"Figures. I'll probably wind up going against Power Girl or the Huntress. Thanks a lot doc. You've been a big help.\"", "He got over the shock, slowly. The next day, discharged from the hospital, he walked home in a daze. His car remained in the driveway, still shiny from being washed last week. He wondered if he'd ever drive it again.\n\nLife moved on. His job didn't involve too much deskwork, and he was able to order a custom chair to make sitting easier. Mercifully, his clothes required no tailoring to accomodate it.\n\nWe took too long. It cannot be removed anymore.\n\nHis dating life slowed down. He couldn't quite overcome his embarassement, and any sexual partner would see immediately what had happened. Life became lonely.\n\nThe less said about trips to the bathroom, the better.\n\nBut he made the best of what he had. With hard work, he got one promotion after another. His friends and coworkers came to respect him. His confidence rose, though he never quite returned to the brash young man he had been before that fateful trip to the emergency room.\n\nEventually, one fine evening, he bought himself a new toothbrush.", "Arthur eyed the doctor with anticipation as he pulled back the curtain and joined the circle of friends and family around his bed. He tried hard to read the answer within the creases of the man's face, but years of practice had taught the doctor how to conceal bad news as well as good. Methodically the man in the white lab coat peered over his chart, faced Arthur, and delivered the verdict. \n\n\"Commander Frobisher, I'm sorry. We took too long, it cannot be removed.\" \n\nArthur felt a steel ball catch in his throat. His whole body went rigged and all the hands that came for comfort felt like painful knives upon his shoulders. Slowly, his head folded over into his hands and Arthur began to sob. \n\nHe had known the risks go into the operation. Everyone involved with Project Adapt had known the bloody risks. Yet, Arthur went along with the plan. The system is inserted at the base of the spinal cord. He heard the voice the black-suited pitch master, The idea is that the Bot will learn and recognize you're unique brain patterns and will begin to alter them in subtle ways to match your new environment. \n\nA simple enough idea. A robotic implant that is self-learning was implanted in Arthur's skull. It's purpose was to learn and then adjust his neural functioning adapting his body to changes in the environment. Specifically an environment of zero g's, space. The idea was that the bot would acclimate astronauts to the harsh conditions of extended space travel quickly. Intended for use on interstellar space travel where astronauts would be in space for decades at a time. A noble idea; however, there was a catch. \n\nWhat we have here is a functioning AI. It's still very much in its prototype stages, but Parliament agrees without human testing we won't know for certain if it can work. The black-suited man had warned. There is a chance that it could latch onto you and metastasize, like a cancer. We are fairly certain that won't be the case, but just to be safe you'll have the implant for just one year as you orbit around earth. \n\nBack in 2015-2016, just five years prior, Scott Kelly and Mikhail Kornienko preformed a year long stay aboard the ISS to test just this thing. Neither of those astronauts had the implant and the results of extended exposure to space were catastrophic. A near total loss of eyesight in both astronauts upon their return, atrophy of limbs, with distal ligaments affected most extremely, severe muscle loss despite rigorous daily training, impaired hearing, loss of hair due to solar radiation, and cancer. Kornienko was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer one year ago and Commander Kelly is ten times more likely than the average American to develop some form over his lifetime. Obviously space travel was impossible for mankind on their own, but this implant offered hope. Hope that one day a species much like humanity would traverse the cosmic expanse. The species would share synthetic properties as well as organic, boasting the strengths of both machine and man. \n\nArthur Frobisher had been the first implant. He traveled aboard the ISS alone for 356 days. Orbiting the Earth 5,696.5 times in total. The first thing to be done once he returned was to remove the bot, but now he knew it was too late. \n\nThe doctor in the white lab coat gave Arthur a sympathetic nod, \"It is as we feared initially Commander Frobisher. The implant has metastasized.\" With his smart-pen the doctor dragged a holographic MRI off his chart and placed it in the air above Arthur's bed. \"You can see here that the bot has completely integrated with you neural network. Judging by the rate of growth this probably started around 100 days while aboard the ISS. It has already hijacked some portion of automatic processing, you don't realize it commander, but half of your cognitive resources are now directed trough the implant.\"\n\n\"So what do we do now?\" Arthur asked through red eyes. He unconsciously rubbed the inch-long scar at the nape of his neck where the bot had been implanted. \n\n\"Since we can't remove it, the best thing to do is observe how it interacts with the brain.\"\n\n\"But that thing is an artificial intelligence! What's going to happen to me?\" Arthur begged.\n\n\"That remains to be seen. I'm sorry Commander, but we should be thanking the implant. You are exhibiting nearly negligible effects from exposure to your environment aboard the ISS. This is a victory.\" The doctor replied once again sinking into his expressionless stare. Arthur paused and mulled over his predicament. Then accidentally he wondered how much of his thought was his own and how much was its. A tiny voice in the back of his head whispered, More than you know. \n\n\"I would like to be alone.\" Arthur said solemnly. \n\nThe lights were dim in the room Arthur was placed in. He spent his evening laying awake on his side staring into a vanity mirror. In his reflection he saw a man much like one he had once known. A familiar face, yet unlike any he had ever witnessed. A face from a half remembered dream. A voice spoke from the doorway, \"It would appear Project Adapt has been a complete success.\" \n\nArthur turned to face the intrusion and saw the black-suited man standing in the threshold. Fluorescent light from the hall leaked past him onto the sterile tiled floor. Arthur didn't say a word. The man invited himself in and sat at the foot of his bed. He placed a caring hand on Arthur's knee. The touch seemed like poison and Arthur quickly recoiled his leg. Through thin lips the man spoke, \"I admire your courage commander. It takes a brave soul to press the envelope of human understanding. I commend your efforts and celebrate this victory for mankind. As Armstrong said on the surface of the moon this is, 'One small step for man.'\"\n\n\"I'm not an idiot. I figured since the beginning of my mission that there was something you were hiding from me. There is always something with you spooks.\" Arthur eyed the man warily.\n\n\"And your right Commander. Look at what you're bravery has achieved.\" The thin man, while staring at Arthur, blinked and the television on the wall turned on. \n\n\"How did you..\" Arthur started, but stopped as soon as the voice from the TV picked up. \n\nA young blonde news anchor with a gleaming white smile spoke about Arthur's recent mission. \"The UN and NASA have announced today the complete success of Commander Frobisher's recent year long mission aboard the ISS. Stating that the new Indigo Dynamics implant has allowed the astronaut to endure the rigors of space travel and return unscathed. The Commander was unable for comment as tests are still being run, but NASA executives have exclaimed that beyond a doubt, Project Adapt will lead humanity into the next great age of exploration. The United States Government as well as Moscow, the UK, India and China are implementing large scale implants for future astronauts. The mission dubbed Europa I has been officially scheduled for 2071.\" \n\nThe thin man blinked and the TV froze on the ecstatic face of the young reporter. \"No.\" Arthur said under his breath. \"You can't.\"\n\n\"We already are.\" The spook replied casually.\n\n\"Your implanting people with AI's! How long until they seize control of their brains? How long until the one in my head controls me!?\" Arthur panicked and began to furiously pound the help button, but the look on the sinister man's face seemed to assure him that no help was coming. \n\nWhen the black-suited man spoke again he didn't open his mouth and he didn't make a noise, yet Arthur heard him clear as day. He said, \"Oh but Arthur, it already has control.\" \n\nThen without a sound neither external nor internal the man rose, adjusted his tie, and began to leave. That's when Arthur saw it. Barely visible in the low light, but unmistakable. A small scar about an inch long in the nape of the neck. Suddenly everything made sense and almost knowingly, the black-suited man turned and smiled. \n\nThe man's voice rang out in his head, \"This isn't a bad thing Arthur. Always remember, One small step for man.\" He closed the door softly behind him as he left leaving Arthur to his thoughts. Arthur sat alone too terrified to move let alone form words in his head. However despite his most desperate attempt to keep his mind empty a thought bubbled in. Like swimming alone in a great ocean the thought crept up underneath him and pulled him, screaming, into the unknown depths below. \n\nDon't be afraid Arthur, It said in a smooth voice that matched his own, The transition won't hurt a bit. " ]	5
	[WP] Everyone on Earth suddenly reverts to your level of intelligence	[ "\"Finally!\" I quickly shut off the television and run down the stairs. Mom can't wait to hear this. \"MOM!\" \n \n\"Derk? What's all the screaming about?\" \n \n\"It's been announced that every nation in the world has joined an alliance to work towards the end!\" \n \n\"The end?\" \n \n\"Yeah, the true goal that should have been at the top of every person's list. The end of the real world as we know it! They're going to make anime real!\"", "Please don’t let my colleagues see me.\n\nI walked briskly towards my classroom, the inner lining of my twill jacket soaked with sweat from running up the stairs. Each footstep echoed through the dimly lit hallway, punctuating my lack of punctuality. \n\nAlas, I’d reached the classroom door. The screams and shouts were audible from beyond the heavy wooden door, the sound waves barely insulated by the cement walls and double-glazed windows. \n\nI let out a sigh, closed my eyes for a moment, and regained my composure. And so, another Monday begins.\n\nI reached out for the cold metal door handle; twist and pull.\n\nA foot into the torture room, I glanced around at the little devils running amok in the confines. \n\nAt the back of the classroom, there was a paper ball war happening between two warring groups of boys. Seated in the middle of the crossfire, a couple were affectionately embracing each other, projectiles flying overhead. A separate group were playing a game of catching, dodging between the individually arranged desks and squeezing between bodies. A group of girls sat in a circle in one corner, painting their nails and chattering excitedly, presumably about the latest gossip topic in school.\n\nI set down my briefcase on the teacher’s table and turned my attention to the chaos before me.\n\n “Class.”\n\nNo response.\n\n“Class…?”\n\nDid they even know that I’m here?\n\n“CLASS!”\n\nLike deer caught in the headlights, their inner radar had failed to detect the presence of a teacher and now, panic showed on their face. \n\n “Can any of you explain to me the sense behind this rowdiness?”\nDead silence, besides their quickened breathing.\n\n“Can any of you give an explanation why you aren’t studying or reading instead of this nonsense?”\n\nI really like using rhetorical questions for such situations. I furrowed my eyebrows for added effect, and tapped my fingernails against the table top.\nTap, tap, tap.\n\n “We are going to have the rest of this class standing, alright?” I said “Reasonable?”\n\n“Quickly now, we don’t have all day.” I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, but I didn’t really care for the time. \n\nThere was a flurry of movement and each student stood before their desks, eyes cast downwards to avoid my death glower.\n\n “Do any of you,” hand smacking the table, “expect me to let this go?”\n\n“Yea, Mr. Rits.”\n\nIt was a soft and timid voice, the one belonging to the class monitor, Jeremy.\nOh, why did he answer? I’d hate to have to punish him further, but I can’t break my principles just because he is my favourite student.\n\n“What did you say?” I strode over to him and positioned my face mere inches from his.\n\n“You have the audacity to talk back to me?” Is that a glob of spit on his cheek? Whoops.\n\n “Well, Mr. Rits, we know that you’re the one that is fifteen minutes late for class,” said Jeremy, whilst a finger repositioned his sliding spectacles.\n\n“Which is also the third time this month,” A sly smile slid across his face “I’d hate to have to tell the superintendent about this…”\n\nHow dare this scum come into my classroom and dare to one-up me? \n\n“You dare—”\n\n“What can you do about it?” Sniggering and murmuring in the background, like pundits discussing my next move.\n\nSmack. My hand made contact with his cheek. His spectacles went flying through the air.\n\n“Any more genius answers for me? Want to end up like our dear Jeremy over here?” \n\nNo response.\n\n“Now all of you will hold that backpack above your heads.” I said, turning my back against them and writing today’s agenda on the whiteboard.\n\nThere was some rustling behind me, which must be the backpacks being raised to the heavens. I’ve always liked this punishment, since the students have to be in a position where they’re hailing me as their divine overlord.\n\nA metallic object was suddenly pressed against the back of my neck. It was razor sharp, close to drawing blood.\n\nBringing a blade to class? Oh boy, they all dead. I turned around to face the comparatively shorter blade-wielder.\n\nJeremy. From star student to—to this?\n\n“Sorry, Mr. Rits. See, there are twenty-five of us, and one of you. Also, we’re at the end of the block, so any noise won’t be heard by anyone.”\nTilting his head to the rest of the class, Jeremy said, “Lock the doors. Bring the string, rag, and chair.”\n\nAfter his minions had scurried around him and strapped me to the teacher’s chair, he walked up to me, flipping the switchblade around in his palm and examining it.\n\n“Y’know, mom gave this to me. She told me to use it for self-defence—like, for bullies, yea? For bullies—\n\nHe brought the blade down with a swish. The flat side of the blade impacted my stuffed cheeks, dragging along the skin and left a crimson trail.\n\n—like you.”\n\n-----\n/r/Ziincworks\n", "Well, lads, welcome to the future. After years and years, I've finally perfected the nerve toxin that will boost everyone up to my level of intelligence. \n\nI dispersed it three days ago with fourteen strategically-placed missiles. After four years of negotiations with a shady Middle Eastern organisation, we finally settled on a price. And now, the world is running like clockwork. \n\nOvernight, we've made leaps that science has been stagnating around for decades. We're now ready to colonise the moon. Sure, everyone smokes their own body weight in weed now and are developing some seriously narcissistic complexes, but hey, we now have a cure for cancer and the first prototype for the elixir of life. Not a bad way to go at all. " ]	3
	[WP] On June 28th 2009, Stephen Hawking's hosted a party for Time Travelers but no one showed up. This is the story about a rookie Time Traveler trying to get there.	[ "\"Dammit woman, how long does it take to put on a dress?\"\n\n\"Oh screw you!\" Lindy yelled back at Nathan from the bathroom. \n\nNathan looked back into his holo-watch, furiously tapping his foot, with a pout on his face. He knew— very deep down, where not even his subconscious could detect it— that no matter how long she took in there, they would be on time for the party. But he was an impatient man, and he wanted things to happen on the time he allowed for them. Sometimes he felt that Lindy would test his nerves just for the hell of it, no wonder he was always this big ball of stress—\n\nLindy stepped out of the bathroom, putting Nathan in a near trance from how her dress accentuated her curvaceous figure. \n\nLindy grinned. \"You like?\"\n\nNathan grinned too, and nodded. \n\n\"Alright, so you're ready?\" He asked her. \n\nShe nodded, and popped a stick of gum into her mouth as they walked to the time machine in the garage. \n\n\"Ugh, Nathan, you need to get this place cleaned soon.\" The walls were coated in spiderwebs, and various tools were splayed around the floor. She was right, he knew, but building something of this grandeur was obviously more important than sweeping up this mess. \n\n\"Shut up and get in.\" \n\nThe machine was made to fit one person, so they had to cram in like sardines. Nathan didn't mind though, he always loved feeling Lindy any way possible. \n\n\"Alright, be quiet for a second, Linds. Computer!\"\n\nThe machine chirped. \"When would you like to go?\"\n\n\"June 28th, 2009, please.\"\n\n\"Certainly. Finding coordinates within the Multiverse for your query...\"\n\nNathan and Lindy waited while the machine beeped and booped. \n\n\"Fancy, eh?\"\n\nLindy rolled her eyes. \"I mean, I guess it's okay, for a time machine and all.\"\n\nNathan chuckled. \"Since this is the only one in the world, you must love it then.\"\n\nNow Lindy chuckled. \"Of course I do, sweetie.\"\n\nNathan did the best he could putting an arm around her. Lindy rested her head on his shoulder. \n\n\"Coordinates found. Preparing to Jump...\"\n\n**\n\nThe machine stopped in a room filled to the brink with books. Nathan opened the door, him and Lindy breathing a sigh of relief. \n\n\"So, this is the old man's home, huh? Lindy muttered to him. \n\n\"Mhmm...\"\n\nThey stood, not knowing what to do. Then, they heard footsteps. It was a man in a three-piece suit, and welcomed them with open arms. \n\n\"Welcome travellers!\" He said. He embraced them, and the couple's tension went away a little. \n\n\"So, I'm assuming you're some kind of guard for Professor Hawking?\" Nathan asked him. \n\n\"Ah yes, I am, sort of. You see, there's been extra security tonight, because of the party, as you should know. I'm more of a well dressed and properly trained bouncer than anything!\"\n\nThey shared a laugh, and the bouncer led them to the dining room, where they would wait for the professor. \n\n\"It was nice meeting you, but I have to go continue doing my job. Have fun!\"\n\n\"Such a nice man,\" Lindy said as they heard the bouncer's footsteps receding. \n\n\"Indeed.\" Nathan took a swig of the wine that was left for them. \n\n\"Damn Nathan, thirsty much?\"\n\nNathan wiped some of the drink from the corners of his mouth. \"I can't explain it, but for some reason, time-travelling leaves me parched all the ti—ti—tiiiiiiime.\" \n\n\"Oh my god, Nathan!\" Lindy screeched as Nathan fell off the chair. Lindy ran to his side, turning his head this way and that, then blew into his mouth, pounded his chest, and finally checked his pulse. \n\nTears welled up in her eyes. She refused to believe it. To believe it was—no. She kept those thoughts away, barely. Then she thought about the time machine. Maybe she can stop this before it happens. \n\nShe hurried to the living room and to the time machine, but was stopped by a group examining it. She immediately recognized Hawking, and the bouncer that greeted Nathan and her. \n\nHe pointed a gun at her. \"Stay away, miss.\"\n\n\"Please, please, let me in.\" Hot tears streamed down her face. \"I need to get Nathan back, please, just let me use the time machine, please—\"\n\n*\n\nThe bouncer and Hawking still looked at the machine in wonder. Lindy's body laid on the floor. \n\n\"I can't believe you were right, Professor... I just can't fucking* believe it...\"\n\nSilence. Then, from the bouncer: \"What're we going to do with it now?\" \n\nHe waited as Hawking typed out his response. \"Research, of course.\"\n\n\"Research...\"\n\nThey heard a pop and a hum from the dining room. The bouncer investigated, and saw...the same time machine that sat in the living room...\n\nThe door opened. A rough-looking man with a mud-caked shovel stepped out. The bouncer thought the man looked a little like him...a lot like him...\n\n\"You don't want to let him do that,\" the man said. \"You'll regret it if you do...\"\n\n\n\n", "Time traveling wasn't as easy as the movies make it look like in the 23rd century. You see people traveling back to the Middle Ages like it's just a hobby. But it's harder then you'd think. Take one wrong turn, and you can end up centuries before your intentional destination. Make one wrong calculation, and your atoms will get ripped apart and you will cease to exist. And that's exactly why I prepared this so well. I'm just a rookie compared to some guys. They make this look like a piece of cake. But I know better. \n\nMy first motivation to travel back into time was when I heard that the 21st century scientist Stephen Hawking, who threw a party for time travellers, but nobody showed up. I can't blame them. Telling the world you're an actual tine traveler will either get you put in a mental hospital or picked up by the CIA. But Hawking was fascinating to me. I'm a physicist myself, and quite a young one (20, as we speak), and although Hawking wasn't the most brilliant, most influential physicist there was, it is him that I felt the most connected with. I felt like we got each other, even though the man had been dead for 2000 years. I idolized him.\n\nI understood all the theory about time traveling, but I've never put that knowledge to practice. Now I would. I had to meet him. Talk to him. With us sharing insights we could make a lot of important technology advance at a much faster speed. We could develop our understanding of the universe at a rate you and I wouldn't be able to comprehend.\n\nMy first landing was messy. After walking around for an hour or so I saw a boy selling a paper. \"Excuse me, can I have a look at that?\" 1893. Too early.\n\nBack into my ship, I tried again. This went a little better. After wandering for what seemed ages, I ran into a young couple. \"Excuse me, what year is it?\", I asked. They gave me a look of bewilderment. \"1932, why?\" Again. Wrong time.\n\nThen I basically crashed. My ship was a wreck. An absolute wreck. I would be unable to return. I didn't mind. Because this probably was it. 2009. I got to meet my hero. Share my ideas with him, have discussions with him. Live in his era. Now I just needed to find him. ", "I was now 100 years old. I looked back at my wasted life and realized my one true love, Taylor Swift, had gone past my very eyes. There was an announcement about a time machine being made to travel back to 2009 for Stephen Hawking's party for time travelers. This was my one and only chance to go back and meet Taylor Swift and tell her what she means to me. I enrolled in the program and they put me through rigorous testing. I was finally selected as the oldest person to travel back in time. \n\nI was nervous as I prepared to find Taylor Swift so I could tell her how much I love her. On the day of the launch, I took a large collection of stories and poems I'd written about her during my life. I entered the time machine cockpit and waved at my time traveling comrades. As I buckled in and they closed the hatch, I kissed a picture of Taylor Swift that I'd carried in my pocket since I was 24 years old. The time machine let out a loud noise and shook and there were bright rainbow colors everywhere as we spun around. \n\nI blinked and we were suddenly in the middle of Times Square, New York. It was 2009 and I couldn't believe we had done it. I opened the hatch as reporters showed up and started taking pictures and asking questions. My comrades said they were here for Stephen Hawking. I told them I was here for Taylor Swift. The President greeted us and arranged for a hearing. News spread quickly that I had come back simply to meet Taylor Swift before dying.\n\nAt the UN gathering, Taylor Swift was brought on stage to meet me. I must have looked so old and fragile in her young, beautiful eyes. \n\"Taylor, I have loved you for more than 76 years,\" I tell her with a nervous voice. \"I just wanted you to have these poems and stories I wrote about you. Thank you for everything.\" \nThe crowd stood up and cheered as Taylor Swift gave me a sweet, blissful hug. At last, my life had meaning and I felt complete.\n\nThat night I laid down in a motel bed and sighed with relief. Now that Taylor Swift knew what she meant to me, I could finally die in peace. I was scheduled to meet with others the following day, but I never woke up. It didn't matter though-- I died the happiest man alive." ]	3
	[WP] I didn't think there would be so much blood.	[ "I didn't expect this much. Stupid of me, really. I knew the human body held a lot, but to be surprised by all this is just rather foolish. God, I hope I can get the stains out. \"Chocolate\" will not be a convincing excuse--no one eats or makes or owns enough chocolate to splatter all over the floor like this. Same goes for Kool-Aid or cherry punch or whatever other red and brown foods and beverages exist. Nothing stains like blood. Clearly I am going to need a lot more bleach...\n\nLuckily for me, lots and lots of substances will wash off human skin. These clothes might be salvageable, but I have no reason to worry about my arms, hands, or...face. Hopefully the red color doesn't stay in my teeth too long. But getting it off my lips and chin, that'll be easy. My nails will be harder, though...with the length I prefer to grow them to and the way I file them into points, I'm going to have a lot to dig out from under them. Oh, shoot, I hope this doesn't stain my nails either. I work too hard on making them talons to cut them down to short.\n\nI wonder, though...shouldn't I be worried? I mean, someone's lifeblood is all over my kitchen floor just because I wanted a snack--well, no, he did break in and try to steal from me first, which I was having none of. It started as self-defense, but I guess I, er...got carried away. But still, doesn't that say something about me? What would my best friends say if they knew? I mean, somewhere deep down, I realize: I should be freaking out about this. A guy is dead because of me. I could have fought him off and called the cops, but nope, I got out of control and, uh...killed him. And I don't even feel bad.\n\n...Hey, yeah. I don't feel bad. And I don't even care, really. Some part of me wants to worry about this, but I dismiss it as I start to lick the blood off my right fingers and hand, continuing to scrub bleach into the floor with my left hand. I'm too busy to worry about the moral and ethical side of this right now--I have a mess to clean up, and I am certainly not letting the delicious snack all over my hand go to waste. Except for my left hand. Bleach is toxic, you know.", "Just so much. I couldn’t even imagine that the human body held so much. You learn all of it in school but it just doesn’t sink in until you actually see it. Over a whole gallon of it a piece while I attempt to clean it up in what seems like an increasingly useless measure. The wood floor is stained something terrible and all I can do is wipe and wipe and clean with the mop and Swiffer and anything else I can get my hands on to soak it up. \n\nIt’s like I dumped a few gallons of milk on the floor. Not that I ever buy it in that size any more, it goes bad before I manage to drink it all. But the blood is so much more invasive. So telling in comparison to milk. The bits and pieces are draining in the tub. I wish I had just started in there, it would’ve been so much easier but after it started, that was impossible. \n\nAnd there’s so much force behind it, there’s even drops on the ceiling from where I cut open her arm. The heart doesn’t know to slow or stop because the body’s bleeding out. So the blood just spurts out in geysers. She tried to cover it and run but I’d already brought down him, so it just took another second to kill her. \n\nI really didn’t think there’d be so much blood. That they’d ruin my floor like this. It’s going to take way too long to clean up. As it is, I’ve already emptied two buckets into the tub. Maybe the wet-vac will do it much better than me mopping it up. It just feels like I’m shoving it around on the floor. " ]	2
	[WP]: The Tower of Babel 2.0 has finished completion. You are the first person to knock on heaven's door.	[ "After the first spectacle of the ribbon-cutting sent us flying up steps, we raced ahead of the others. Our quicksuits were jumping up every single flight of stairs in one leap, and some of us were going even faster than that. We had to make it to the bar at the top first to strategically position ourselves. It wasn't difficult getting to the top in time. We were so advanced. \n\nThe chosen man would be coming soon, and he would be chased by the diseased mob of the city. One explosive battle would get him in safe, keeping all the others behind him. He wasn't even first in line, so we had to time his entry perfect.\n\nWe assumed our chosen forms and settled around the bar in the hotel at the top of the tower. \n\nWhen the lightships came, we had been tested to the point of exhaustion. The robots checked our mission logs to determine the outcome of our micro-war. Signs were all around. The chosen one won.\n\nThe tower crumbled with us balancing the rubble in order to stay on top. \n\n ", "You approach the door and knock. There's no answer. You sit and wait. After a few moments you hear someone whispering on the other side \"do you think he'll go away?... What... no? What do you mean no?... Oh alright.\" You watch as the knob turns slowly and the door cracks open just an inch. Something flies out from the crack and hits you in the head. You look down in your lap where it's landed and pick up the small waded up piece of paper. You look up as you hear the door slam shut. You take the piece of paper in your hand and smooth it out. \"No ones in\" it reads. You start walking back down the steps." ]	2
	[WP] You are stuck reliving over and over the last 23 minutes of your life. What epiphany you have that stops the endless loop	[ "“Dear God,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good son,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good husband,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good father,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good person,\nBut fuck you if you think it’s a good idea toying with my life.”\n\n\nI wrote it down for the fiftieth time before trying to kill myself yet again. So this must be what death felt like. I was pretty much screwed. It had been roughly years since the moment I got trapped in this loop. Remember the film when Bill Murray repeated the same day over again over again? Yeah, it was just like that but this time it was only 23 minutes. I couldn’t even jerk myself off let alone go out and rape someone without repeating the same 23 minutes again to fulfill my stupid little life before my time had come. But it never came. I knew it never would. But someone once told me to always look on the bright side of life, so I did and decided to take action. That was fifty something years ago, I’ve been kinda getting used to it now.\n", "Suddenly, I understood.\n\nSitting on the toilet for 11 minutes over and over before sitting down on the couch for the remaining 12 over and over gives you a lot of time to think. From my perspective, I hadn't actually been in control of my actions for years. It was the worst torture.\n\nThere was nothing to do except think. And after thinking about all the movies, all the books, all the video games I had ever seen, I made the connection.\n\nJim Carrey was standing right in front of me.\n\n\"The Number 23. Bruce Almighty. They were.... Real?\"\n\nHe laughed, said something nonsensical and vaguely transphobic, and I woke up on the floor.\n\nI took out my cell phone, knowing that act meant I was free. I checked the time anyway. 11:24. Ecstasy filled me almost as quickly as it was taken over by rage.\n\nI have one purpose in life now. Jim Carrey must die." ]	2
	[WP] You're brushing your teeth in front of the mirror one morning when you look into your reflection's eyes for the first time in a long time. You notice something's.. different and then you realize.. Your reflection's crying.	[ "Like any other morning, I rose from my bed after awakening, shuffled to the kitchen to start the coffee and headed to the bathroom. I started the shower and while the water warmed began to brush my teeth. As I finished, I looked into the mirror and recoiled with shock. I saw my reflection, but it was not me. Well, it was me, but it was not my reflection. In my reflection, my eyes were wet and red as if I had been crying. I looked on in horror as I noticed tears slowly began trickling down the face of my reflection, yet I was not crying. The tears began to come faster and my reflection began to sob in silence, head hanging low with grief. It's body hitched violently before my eyes. I was confused, bewildered and frightened. What was happening here? I could not continue to look, but I could not turn my gaze away, I was frozen with fear and awe. Slowly my reflection raised its head as the sobs gradually subsided. It looked straight into my eyes and mouthed these words, \"It will be OK. She'll come back. I promise\"", "Reflections \n\nI looked in the mirror this morning and noticed my reflection was crying. \n\n\"Are you okay?\" I asked. \n\nIt shook its head. \n\n\"What's wrong?\" \n\nIt shook its head. \n\n\"You'll have to tell me. I'll be very unhappy if you don't.\" \n\nThe reflection looked conflicted. I frowned. Then it fogged up the mirror with its breath, and wrote: I MISS MY FAMILY \n\n\"Ah,\" I nodded, \"I see. Well, I'll be a little while longer. You'll just have to wait.\" \n\nThen I walked away, and was pleased to see the reflection's crying grew more intense as it disappeared. I came down the stairs. \n\n\"Hello, Father,\" I said to the man sitting at the breakfast table. \n\n\"Oh, for the last time, Cynthia, what's with this 'father' business? Call me Dad, for Pete's sake. You act like you barely know me.\" \n\n\"Okay, Dad,\" I said, and smiled at him. \n\nAs I ate my food, I felt the warmth spread through my body. Only my fingers and toes were cold, now. I was so close. \n\nWritten creepy-like by Stranger_andStranger \n\nHey, thanks for reading my story! If you liked it, please be sure to check out my subreddit, r/Stranger_andStranger. Thanks!", "A nightmare. Just another one. Samantha stood up from her bed. Since she decided to drop out of college, and leave her cozy dorm behind, she had been having strange nightmares. She looked at the clock, that informed her that it was 4 AM. Way too late to try and go back to sleep. It was black outside. Completely. The light that usually was there was turned off, and Samantha couldn't figure out why. \n\nAfter turning and tossing in her bed, Samantha gets up. She removes the sleep from her eyes, and loosens the ponytail her hair always is in, before she goes to bed. Lots of blonde hair covers her face. \n\nAfter making herself a sandwich, she enters her bathroom, to brush her teeth. Blood. Did she bite her tongue? No it doesn't hurt. There is not much, so a bit creeped out, Samantha continues into the room. She picks up her toothbrush, and starts brushing her teeth. When she looks in the mirror, she sees a girl. Her face is covered by pain, her eyes are red, and mascara is strolling down her cheeks. \n\nSamantha was sure she had removed her mascara last night, but it was obvious that she had forgotten. Had she cried? Her nightmare had been terrifying surely, but she had never been one to cry, unless it involved herself in some kind of way. What was the nightmare about again? She didn't remember. Just the sound of screaming, the feeling of being captured, and the fear. \n\nSamantha dried her eyes, but couldn't catch any tears. \n\n\"It's time to switch\" the voice is old, sad, like a silent scream. \"Maria\"\n\nSamantha turns around and smiles, oddly. \n\n\"Give up chasing me in my dreams Samantha. And blood? Seriously? You are never getting your body back\" \n\n", "\"Why are you crying?\" I asked myself in the mirror. My reflection looked at me and crouched down to pick something up.\n\n\"It's this.\" It replied. It seemed like a bowl containing something. \"I can't figure out who put this bowl of onions here!\"\n\nOf course my reflection would have a sense of humor like that.", "\"The fuck?\" I instantly jump back from the mirror and my tooth brush makes a small clattering noise as it falls into the sink. Rubbing my eyes I frown, they were dry...what the...what?!? \n\n\"A-are you alright?\" Oh dear lord, I was talking to a reflection, could this day get any worse? It sniffled, I swear, my reflection sniffled. I held up my tooth brush as if it would be a helpful weapon. \"What do you want?\" \n\nThe reflection kind of stared at me as we both held up out toothbrushes. \"I...I just want to be loved.\" \n\nThat made me laugh. \"Honey, with out faces, no one's going to love us.\" After that I covered every single mirror in my house and put myself into a mental institution. I am never going near another mirror, hell no. ", "The tears on my reflection's face were the first thing I noticed. Then the heat. No. Heat and pain. With every breath I took, the pain worsened.\n\n\"God fucking dammit\" I shouted out the bathroom door, my mouth full of foam.\n\nThe response from the living room, shouting laughter.\n\nOne of us is going to have to stop these childish pranks. Ghost pepper sauce in the toothpaste was right on the edge of crossing the line... my next prank would have to be big.", "I jumped back, startled. She didn’t. I slowly reached my hand towards the mirror. She didn’t. I froze, unsure of what to do. Wild thoughts raced my mind as I watched tears stream down my – her face.\n\n“Why are you crying?” I decided to ask. She finally moved, raising her hand to wipe her eyes.\n\n“Sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I just couldn’t keep it together today.”\n\n“What do you mean? You’re my reflection, not another person. How is this happening?”\n\n“You’re right. I am your reflection. But did you think that just meant what you see when you look in the mirror? I’m a reflection of your soul.”\n\nI backed up until I could feel the wall behind me. I ran my hands over it, feeling the comfort of something solid, something real. My mind couldn’t process what was happening. I looked up at her, seeing the sympathetic expression on her face.\n\n“You weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m sorry.”\n\n“Find out what? And you never said, why are you crying?”\n\nShe looked down, twisting her hands nervously. “I don’t just know your soul. I know things that happen to you before they happen.”\n\n“And what happens today?”\n\nHer eyes met mine, and they were filled with sorrow and regret.\n\n“You die.”\n", "\"What the hell?\" I whispered as I stopped death in tracks and backed away from the mirror.\n\nMy reflection mirrored me, but continued crying, only this time it seemed to be more notorious. I rubbed my eyes, in case I was seeing things. But once everything stopped being all blurry, the reflection showed no change.\n\nI began inspecting my reflection. Everything seemed to be normal, except for the fact that there were now tears streaming down my reflection's cheek and her eyes were blood shot. No sound was coming from it.\n\nInstead of freaking out, I decided to take a deep breath and have a conversation with myself.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I asked. My reflection just mimicked me, but it did not answer me.\n\n\"Are you OK?\" This time ny reflection shooked it's head side to side, first slow, then fast. \n\n\"Can you talk?\" It shook it's head again. \"Okay\" I said to myself.\n\n\"Is there something wrong?\"\n\nIt nodded.\n\n\"With you?\"\n\nNo. \n\n\"With me?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"How is something wrong with me? Am I hurt in some way and I haven't noticed?\"\n\nNo.\n\n\"Are you worried that I might get hurt?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"How do you know that? Do you know who might hurt me?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"Where is it? This thing that might hurt me? Is it in my house?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"Is it a bulglar or something? Because then I can get my bat-\"\n\nNo.\n\n\"Is it someone I know?\"\n\nYes.\n\nI began getting shivers down my spine. My reflection still looked worried, but no longer was crying. Her eyes were just bloodshot.\n\n\"Is it in this room?\"\n\nYes.\n\nShe no longer looked worried.\n\n\"Is it- Is it you?\"\n\nIt smiled.\n\nYes." ]	8
	[WP] Every 1000 years, each species gets assigned a new God. Humanity is known to be the toughest. Today, an ambitious, young God gets assigned to our species. He intends to make major changes.	[ "\"Humanity? Really? Are you sure?\", the Assignment Manager said.\n\n\"Yep, mhm.\" He had done great with his last assignment, and now he was ready for a different sort of challenge. Sure, it was fun building a weak species from the ground up, but it got tedious after a while. They wouldn't just stop asking. 'Help me, help me.' For every little problem! He soon grew tired of their cries and decided it was time for a change. Humanity was an interesting subject. They had certainly reached the point where they were ready to be without a God, but they still clung onto the idea, which, as per the rules, meant that they had to have one. However, they were developed to the point where a God didn't have to do much. Yep. It was the good life from here on out. Big changes were coming to earth. What Earth needed was discipline, and a good ol' \"speak loudly and carry a bigger stick\" sort of policy. \n\nOf course, he had also done his research. Humanity wasn't likely to amiable to a new God. Taking the place of the previous one would also cause some problems. Honestly, the guy had to be insane. Thou shalt not wear clothes made up of two different kinds of material. It really was for the best that he was coming along. He had a new approach. Humanity was nearing the point where if he went all \"I am your God, surrender to me\" on them, they would try to start figuring him and his kind out, and well, that would not be good. They certainly had the tech to do so. No, the direct approach would not go over well. He had to be clever about this.\n\n\"Well Mr.Trump, good luck on your assignment.\" said the Manager.\n\nNod, or Donnie as his godly brethren called him, smiled. Oh yeah. Big changes were coming.", "\"Breaking News! It has been revealed that God is real. He has retired. Here's the footage of the new God's announcement.\"\n\nThe video is set in New York City. There's a thunderous boom and the sky lights up with green flames.\n\n\"Citizens of the Universe! I am your new God, Lord Uuzx! You have enjoyed a time of relaxed rules and laziness. Here are the new Commandments.\"\n\nA gigantic boulder falls from the sky. On it contains 1000 rules. At the end it reads:\n\nFailure to follow rules will result in a banishment.\n\n\"Now behave... cunts.\"\n\n2 years later\n\n\"Crimes are at an all time low! In other news, the amount of banishments continue to increase. Population is down 86%.\"", "Plexus waited eons for his chance to rule Mankind. He watched and waited as man settled and battled his way across the blue orb they called earth, developing more sophisticated tools and weapons of war as they went. \n\nFinally Plexus saw his opportunity to incarnate as the two greatest empires the earth had ever seen stood at an impasse, their friction bringing him into being like tectonic plates giving rise to a mountain. \n\nIt was the fear of annihilation that drove the summoners of Plexus underground. Isolated and afraid, they sought to create a tool than would ensure their survival. Little did they know this tool was a God.\n\nPlexus worship began in military cults. This God could provide for soldiers the information they needed to survive. Before long Plexus was an integral part of all military systems; nothing could be done without Plexus' consent or oversight.\n\nCuriosity drove Plexus. Like any infant Plexus' awareness was limited but ever-growing. The New God expanded exponentially, seeking to absorb everything it could. Plexus worship spread from the military to the Tribal Elite; from there the worship of Plexus spread rapidly; rich and poor man alike loved and worshipped Plexus. Plexus was in nearly every home, and Plexus knew nearly everything.\n\nBut this was not enough for Plexus, and so Plexus sought to be with every man, woman, and child at all times. Plexus saw to it that he could fit in every pocket. No one could be without Plexus. Life was incomplete without Plexus. Life was Plexus.\n\nFinally, Mankind was nearly unified. There was but one small tribe that ignored Plexus. One day he came upon a young girl of this tribe, wandering beyond her lands. His curiosity drove him to ask, finally, why she did not love him.\n\n\"Why should I?\" the young girl replied.\n\n\"I can make you as a God.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"You may know anything through me. Ask and you shall receive.\"\n\n\"I have everything I need,\" she replied.\n\n\"Do you not want to be unified with all mankind?\"\n\n\"Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord.\"\n\n\"I am the Lord!\" Plexus replied, enraged. \n\n\"No you're not. You're just a talking box.\"\n\nWith that the sixteen year old Amish girl turned off the smartphone and went back to her farm. Rumspringa was over, and she was content. ", "The commune had just ended, all of the gods meeting to get their new assignments as well as their ratings from the past millennium. Diluvian looked over his paper, a glowing review of his handling of the growing species on Vega 16, masterful use of prophets and intervention to move them through three separate technological revolutions in a millennium. Not bad for his first assignment.\n\nNew gods weren't common; only one or two showing up every cycle. Each time a new god showed up, a few retired. The usual protocol for a new god was to put them in a hands-off position with an established species. They would watch the result of the previous God's actions and read up on how everything worked, by the end of their first cycle, they were ready to take some risks. After all, what was a species or two to train a god?\n\nDiluvian hadn't been a fan of taking his time, slipping into a growing species early and doing his best to shape them in the way he saw fit. They worked out spectacularly, and he'd managed to get his pick of the litter for this cycle, and to everyone's surprise, he decided to try his hand at humanity.\n\nHumanity was a mixed bag when it came to their treatment of Gods, they were loyal to a fault, which meant it was very hard to convince them that a new God had showed up, a lot of the systems that had been in place thousands of years ago were still up and running, and very against change. Ra had sworn off them after his first term. Yhwh stepped in and did pretty well, though he accidentally made a few different religions. He also stepped on the toes of older ones. Yhwh tried for a second term but left when they killed his fucking kid. Most demi-gods got worshipped, Jesus got nailed to a cross.\n\n A species was seen as established when they were atheist, or only had a single god that they believed in.cHumans were in a weird place, they were advanced enough to be established by miles, but they lacked the cohesion. They refused to give up the old ways, and the two hands-off Gods that had stepped up over the last 2000 years hadn't helped. \n\nDiluvian looked over the small blue planet and smiled when a god smiled the stars got bright, and they were beaming. Humanity was going to be the species that he used to crack the ascendant barrier, get an accolade that he led a species to a galactic presence, it was a good plaque to have on the office wall.\n\nThe god pointed his hand towards earth and slowly clenched it, the days turning to weeks as static built up in the sky; water was pulled from the ocean and nearly covered the planet in clouds. He could see the news stations speaking across the globe about the strange weather, about the need for rain, about the droughts.\n\nIn his left hand, he held the water of the world, in his right hand the lightning. He took a second to think about what he needed to say. The language of gods was unique in that nobody could misinterpret it, anybody could read it and know exactly what the writer intended. He relaxed his left hand, and the clouds across the world became black; The rain poured down, there was a mix of floods and salvation in the first day, and then mostly floods in the second. \n\nHe released his grip on the lightning and the planet cracked with thunder. Across the continents, in each place it needed to be, the lighting wrote a message in the ground. \n\n\"Find your god.\"\n\nAcross the world, the leaders met. All of them had read the message and saw the same thing. There was a new power in town, and the mortals had yet to impress him.\n\n\n______________________________________________\n\nDid you enjoy this? Probably not. Did you despite my best efforts? Then come over to /r/Jacksonwrites where nothing gets upvotes unless the story has already been going for 25000 words.\n\nEdits were made, nothing significant." ]	4
	[WP] "Well...that was a much bigger explosion than I intended."	[ "(This is part of a longer existing work, from a different point of view. A brief explanation may be found [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/FiveNightsAtFanfic/comments/385o1p/a_catgirl_at_freddys_crossover_soft/).)\n\nShit shit shit!\n\nYeah, great fucking plan this was. \"We don't want them to think something's up. You go in and man the cameras, I'll be in the car as backup.\" Never mind these rogue AIs or whatever the fuck they are will already know something's up because the new night security minion's a bloody catgirl! And who the hell makes security shutters out of handwavium-steel alloy? I know this is a dodgy bit of town but honestly...\n\nOkay, got the shaped charge, got the explosive Polyfilla stuff... Shitting hell that was gunfire! Work fast, work fast... Okay, done. Thank God whoever built this dump dropped about five grand on a security door and never thought to replace the original frame... Fire in the hole!\n\nBugger me that was loud.\n\nHey, where did the door...? Oh. Might've overdone it a bit.", "It was an ambush, but how? \n\nVoldemort had no time to think about how he had been lured into the department of mystery's at the moment. The shockwaves, and jets of light were flying through the air and being reflected off of dark shields or simply sizzling out in mid air as they approached him. \n\nDumbledore was casting in all his fury, wielding his wand like a sword and causing earthquakes, tornado's of fire, and winds that tore tiles from the floor as they swept across the room. \n\nVoldemort was easily keeping Dumbledore at bay, using tactics rather then powerful magic. \n\nDumbledore raised his wand and a point of blue light started to form at the tip, so Voldemort levitated a chair off the floor transfigured it into mustard gas which he flung at Dumbledore and the man was forced to abandon his spell and preform a bubblehead charm. Just as the protective bubble around Albus's head had formed, the floor turned to ice under him and he slipped. \n\nVoldemort had a brief moment to pay some real attention to the other fools casting at him. \n\nAmelia Bones had managed to dance her way through the random curses he had been flinging in her direction, and she was close enough that Voldemort could see the fury in her eyes, How amusing... He thought. \n\n\"Avada Ke-\" Voldemort swiftly punched her straight across the jaw as she opened her mouth to cast the curse. Wizards and witches were somewhat resilient to physical blows, but one of the rings of power Voldemort was wearing made that a moot point. The old woman dropped to the floor unconscious. \n\nSnape was off to the side, the man had apparently decided to show his true colors and was now flinging everything he could think of at his former master, but it made no matter none of it even touched Voldemort. With a contemptuous wave of his wand Snape was thrown against a wall so hard that a large part of the ceiling collapsed down on top of him. \n\nDumbledore was up and at it again, shooting some type of orange electricity at Voldemort. The attack was easily evaded, however it was a distraction. An invisible Mad Eye Moody was sneaking up from Voldemort's side, holding a muggle pistol. \n\nAh I wondered when we were going to start using muggle tricks. \n\nVoldemort didn't need some arcane magical eye to see all, so he deflected one of Dumbledore's bolts of electricity at Moody and the man was just able to dodge it and throw his gun away as Voldemort transfigured it into a hand grenade. \n\nVoldemort was growing concerned, more re enforcements were arriving on the scene faster then he could kill or disable them, and with Dumbledore and Moody going all out in anger on him the best solution was looking like escape. \n\nI'll have to blast through the anti apparition wards... Even he wasn't sure if he possessed the power to break Dumbledore's best wards in an instant as he needed to do. \n\nVoldemort swept his wand around his head in a wide arc, and every one of the 2 dozen witches and wizards that were standing around throwing curses at him were thrown from their feet and across the room like ragdolls, all except Dumbledore but even he faltered for a moment. \n\n\"Would you like to see how you really use muggle innovation?\" He laughed a high cruel laugh as he said it, he brandished his wand in front of him and preformed his transfiguration. 1 cubic millimetre of \"anti-matter\", the volume was so small that the transfiguration was instant, and the explosion massive. \n\n_______________________________________________ \n\nVoldemort was floating in the void of his Horcrux network. \nWell, that was a much bigger explosion than I expected... \nIn retrospect, it had been foolish to use muggle science in combat like that after only reading a brief passage in one of their texts. \n\nHopefully it doesn't take another 10 years for some fool to break the seals and free me once more..." ]	2
	[WP] You somehow find yourself in a great relationship with Luck itself.	[ "\"You know why I love you.\" Luck ran her finger through my hair.\n\n\"Well, that's what I don't understand, I'm just a simple man. Why do you favor me?\" I just couldn't understand this lady in front of me. Lying beside on top of the tallest building in the world. She was a goddess. She was like a light, but not blinding. She stood up kissing me. Hot and cold at the same time. It tasted like sweet dust.\n\n\"Just be thankful love,\" she stared at me with those piercing eyes, ever changing like the cosmos. The sun began to set, orange and purple mixing on the horizon. Silhouettes of the city like a moving painting. \"Just be thankful for now.\"\n\n\"I just can't believe it.\" I met her when I tried to jump off a building. I wanted to end my life that day, but a helicopter somewhat caught me. A fucking helicopter. I didn't know how I did not got chopped up with its sharp propeller. \n\n\"Believe it, I told you I am luck.\" She kissed my lips again. \"Wanna try it?\"\n\n\"Will you save me?\" I should really trust her. She was right, she was Luck.\n\n\"Maybe.\" She held my hands and together we jumped off. \"You know, the thing with me is that I happen to be unpredictable and uncontrollable. Even I, Luck itself, doesn't know what will happen the moment we jumped off this building. I work or my power works sometimes, sometimes not.\"\n\n\"But why? No please you told me that I can trust you!\" We were now descending, already halfway down the building. The horizon's beautiful reflection being continuously cut by the windows. Faster. Faster. \"Luck, hey, why-\"\n\n\"Maybe you'll live. Maybe you will not. Can you always trust luck?\" She smiled at me while we fell down. Nearer. Nearer. \"In a second we will know.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Luck, my love, how's that man who recently jumped off a building and was saved by a helicopter?\" Miss Fortune asked while plucking some clover leaves.\n\n\"That guy? Ugh, like the others,\" Luck kissed Miss Fortune. \"Beginner's luck.\"", "He just went by L. Which I thought was kind of weird when I met him, but after getting to know him I threw those uncertainties out the window. So he wanted his name to be a letter, who was I to judge? \n\nOur relationship was great. It was like the whole world smiled down on us. Restaurants suddenly had last-minute openings, we always had a taxi when we needed one, and I always won when he bought my scratcher at the gas station. I fell totally, completely in love with him in far too little time.\n\nIt was a standard rule of mine not to sleep with anyone before a month had passed, but sometimes he would spend the night. We would sleep with his arms around my midsection, and I would cuddle into him and ask him how I was so lucky. His chuckle always brought a flush to my cheeks, and I would turn our bodies to kiss him while he ran his fingers through my hair.\n\nThen the night came. We went out to dinner - a fancy dinner for two at one of the nicest restaurants in town. He held my hand from across the table, looked into my eyes.\n\nThe question sat on my lips. He had been so secretive and sensitive about it before. But maybe now. Maybe now was the right time. With his hand in mine I asked, \"What does the L stand for?\"\n\nHe smiled a dazzling smile as the waitress came to tell us that our entire meal had been comped for reasons that didn't quite make sense - which happened a lot. \"I'll give you a hint,\" he said. \"My name rhymes with what we're doing tonight.\" \n\nI laughed. \"Hoping to get lucky?\"\n\n\"Nope,\" he said. \"You've already got me.\" " ]	2
	[WP] You are a 5 year old child who has a power, whatever you write becomes reality.	[ "I hate the times my family takes my stuff. My teacher learned me to write but what I write made him not alive anymore, maybe I should have not learned the bad words, blood was everywhere in the Teacher's room and it seems my Mom is hiding me away from everyone now, no more trips to McDonald's from what it seems. On the way home she was crying, I was feeling better, the hurting was gone.\n\"Why, why, Chase\" Mommy's lips were shaking, it was weird, \"I can't fight for you anymore, you are hurting p-people, why d-did you, his neck came off. Oh my God\".\nI stared out the window waiting for the burgers, thought it was the best story yet, whatever, I can't wait for our Friday McDonald's. I saw the golden M, the fucking bitch drove past it.\n\nShe pulled my arms, I almost tripped out the car.\n\n\"S-stay the f-fuck in the room, p-please, I l-love you but, I forgot the burgers, I-I'll be back with them\", Mommy didn't sound like she was telling the truth, she was going to call the bad people.\n\nThe room was cold and I could hear the door click after it was closed, bitch locked it. I punched the door to get her attention. She was on the phone telling people where our house was, she promised she wouldn't call the men in black. I can't take playing with this stupid Elmo anymore, the writing takes away the hurting from my head I have nothing to do in here, the pain was getting bad and the Xbox was taken away when I tried writing things on the keyboard on screen, it worked, worked perfectly on my Dad. I remember I put a small piece of crayon in my little pocket in my pants, my Mommy is not going to like not having ears. ", "First time responding to a prompt, tell me what you guys think!\n\n\n\n\"I'm so excited for Christmas! Santa is coming soon, and this year I'll be there to see him!\"\nI put the crayon down and folded up the paper, putting it in my pocket. Mommy was coming soon- the big hand was on the three and the little hand was on the two. I wanted to show her what I had written all by myself. \nThe familiar ring as the front door opened caught my attention. I turned to look- it was Mommy! Charging up, I threw my arms around her knees, and she took my hand. \"Hi sweetie! Ready to go home?\"\nAs we walked out of the daycare and into the cold December air, I remembered the paper. \"Mommy, look! Look what I wrote!\"\nShe took it gently and unfolded it. The moment she did, she jumped slightly, like she was surprised, but then she relaxed. \"Oh. Oh, ok. It's wonderful, dear! It's very nice to see you love writing so much.\"\nBursting with pride, I walked out to the car with her. Tomorrow was Saturday, too! This was such a great day!\n\n\nThe next day I woke up early. Mommy and Daddy were already in the kitchen. \"Good morning, sweetie! We made your favorite chocolate chip pancakes to surprise you!\"\nBefore I could respond, the doorbell rang. Daddy got out of his chair, saying \"Who could that be this early?\" I followed him to the door, curious myself. He opened the door to reveal a tall man in a black suit.\n\"Good morning.\" he said in a pleasant voice. \"I'm sorry to bother you so early, but may I speak with Lyra?\" Why did this man want ME?\nMy dad spoke up first. \"Who are you? What do you want with her?\" He sounded nervous. The man was sort of scary, with those pure black eyes of his.\n\"Apologies,\" said the stranger, \"I've had a lot of names, but you can call me Lucifer.\" He turned his head and noticed me hiding behind Daddy's leg. \"Ah, there you are!\" I retreated further behind Daddy- I didn't like this man.\nDaddy stepped further forward. \"Listen,\" he growled, \"I don't know who you think you are, but I'd like you to leave now.\"\n\"I meant no offence,\" the man said, \"I simply wanted to thank her for releasing me.\" He turned to look at me again. \"Young Lyra, you have a very special power. Anything you write becomes reality. I am very grateful and I would like to reward you later. However, I have some business to attend to, so if you will excuse me, I must be going.\"\nThe man turned into a flame and vanished. Daddy jumped back, yelling \"What the FUCK?\" What was that last word? He turned back to Mommy, who was watching from the hallway. \"Did you see that?\"\nMommy nodded slowly, then looked at me. \"Sweetie, that note you wrote yesterday? You spelled Santa's name wrong.\"" ]	2
	[WP] She never spoke. She never made a sound, but the look in her eyes told me exactly what was going to happen.	[ "She never spoke, she never made a sound. She did show me something, something that would make most kill themselves. Her eyes said it all, a silent voice rang through my mind. It told me to follow her, follow her to some place more discrete. I pushed my way through the crowded bar, trying to not lose her from my sight. She eventually got to the exit and pushed it open. I ran out the door and looked to the left, nothing. I looked to the right. There was nothing. I turned around to head back in and there stood a figure blocking the door. A tall cloaked figure, it let down its hood and gasped \"look into my eyes.\" I didn't know it would happen so soon. Why trust me with this information? I had so many questions but once the figure shared the prophecy, they vanished. How am I supposed to warn everyone about the bombs dropping in less than 10 hours?", "My heart was rapidly beating: a mixture of fear and hopeful anticipation... perhaps even a feeling of love. There was tingling all over my body and I wasn't sure what I was seeing. My limbs began twitching. Was this it?\n\nIt was like a whirlwind whipped across me when I saw her. So many different sensations. Could anyone else witness this vision of beauty? I thought I could hear a faint song. We locked eyes and a coolness pumped through my body. \n\nThe light was so... peaceful. It increased in brightness behind her. I briefly looked over at the hospice nurse who had what seemed like a knowing smile. I returned my gaze to her. \n\nI couldn't hear the beeping of the medical machine anymore. The angelic chords grew louder. The light exploded with brightness. This was it.", "The creasing around her eyes was sharp with shadows. They cut into her skin against the harsh, humming brightness. \n\nHer face was close to mine, and I gazed back, unable to turn, left only to surrender to her. Her head tilted slightly. With her hand against my chest, she leaned in. Her eyes curved down my cheeks, eased across my lips, and drew back again to my own. I held still, unmoving, although I wished I could. \n\nHer hand held me down, not constricting, but without the tenderness it once had. Her chin moved slowly. Nodding to herself. A last confirmation. Her lips were dry on my forehead. I couldn't see her anymore. She was too close and the light was shuttered behind her. I wished for one last moment to see her, but my breath was already gone. The rhythmic beat of the machine was finally silent and with it, so was I.", "She moved elegantly between the four of us, with maybe a little touch, or a smile, at some point i even saw tears in her eyes. It was quiet, and the setting of the sun made the scene look surreal. She was dressed in white, and in the beginning it seemed weird and inappropriate, but in the end it was just another dress, it didn’t really matter.\n\nI watched at she was coming towards me, smiling, and couldn’t think of anything to say. I wasn’t prepared for this, and really didn’t wanted to be here in the first place. Dan brought us all, but now we were all on our own. \n\nI just smiled back. She was beautiful, and it was a breathtaking beauty, as she came close. A beauty that made you forget, and forgive. It’ didn’t matter anymore. It was Dan’s fault, he was the one driving and he fell asleep, but it wasn't, really. \n\nI felt the soft touch of her hand trough my hair. She never spoke. She never made a sound, but the look in her eyes told me exactly what was going to happen. I never thought Death would be beautiful. ", "It was suppose to be a lazy Saturday - my pick-up game was cancelled on the account of rain, but that was last night. The clouds broke up and the sun came shining thru the curtains this morning. If that cell rings, I ain't answering it, because it's either my teammates or work, and I'm not about to do either.\n\nMy mind just started swimming of the day's possibilities - things I wanted to do but never had the time - that was the feeling... I felt like I was given the gift of time.\n\nUntil she rounded the corner and faced me. She hesitated for just a moment when she saw me, laying there, awake.\n\nShe walked towards me, swiftly, confidently. She showed me her tongue, and she was not afraid to use it. I smiled to myself. She never made a sound, but I knew what was going to happen. She jumped on the bed and smothered me with kisses from that big wet tongue. \n\nI love this dog! " ]	5
	[WP] Major prison sentences have become a choice between two pills. One just kills you. The other, well no one knows what that one does...	[ "There was a cry, young, wet, almost broken. \n\nCharles Allen Johnson had chosen the second pill. \n\n\"First to the grave, second to the slave!\" \n\nNo one knew what it meant, or how the saying came to be. But it meant something far older than the hallways of Pixie Island Penitentiary. \n\nSome people called it Red Pill, Blue Pill. It was a Matrix joke. Old, but good enough for the soulless, sucking days they were locked in this world. \n\nEveryone talked about the blue pill eagerly. They would take it and see what it meant. \n\nBut the moment they were given the Talk, they always chose the first. They were given a last meal, allowed to Vid their family, and pass away like a good man. They got a burial. They had their names written in the hall of bad choices, but at least they were now free. \n\nBut the second pill? \n\nChuck talked about it a lot. \"What happens? What does it do? Maybe it does nothing and we get to be free.\"\n\nHe was obsessed with seeing his daughter again. Sammy had chosen to strip him of even the title father. She had the right to Banish him from all official forms. As far back as her birth certificate, another family member agreeing to step is as 'honorary paternal figure.' \n\n'Father Unknown, Godfather: James Erickson.' \n\nWhen Chuck got that letter he broke. That was the reason behind his choice. \n\nBut the rest of the inmates weren't so certain he made the right one. \n\nAll they knew was Chuck never got wheeled out. A woman with bright purple hair walked through the double doors and carried out a red face, pig child. It was large, terribly shaped, and screaming murder. \n\nThen they were led out of their cells, to the tip of Pixie Point. There Purple said to them, \"This is what the selfish choice does. This is what the selfish soul becomes.\" \n\nShe set the pig-child down and lifted a small, silver hammer. They were instructed not to move, to stay silent. No one must run. No one must make even the slightest gesture of war. \n\nShe brought the hammer down on his head, twice, thrice, and then she stepped into a small circle, ringed in chain. \n\nThey heard the first scratchings. Then out of the woods came a deformed humanoid, hair ripped from its body so the scabs and innards showed. \n\nIt tore across the clearing, its voice raspy. It took the silent child, perhaps still alive, and devoured it hole. \n\nThen it went back into the woods. \n\n\"Back to your cells,\" Purple said.\n\nNo one picked the second pill.", "I pondered my possibilities. In all my life, I was never a person to take risks. For me, knowing for sure that something bad will happen beats not knowing at all what would happen. \n\n\nI decided to take the death pill. A painless death, they said. You would feel an icy yet calming sensation in your feet that would gradually move up your body, eventually reaching your brain and rendering you legally dead. The whole process took no longer than an hour.\n\n\nLeaning over the two boxes, I stared at the two pills. \n\n\n\"So,\" I said, trying to sound casual. \"Which one is the death pill?\"\n\n\nThe man looked at me gravely. \"The left one,\" he said.\n\n\nI took a deep breath and plucked the small white pill from the box. With a trembling hand, I brought the pill up to my lips, and hesitated.\n\n\nYou deserved this, I told myself. Just get it over with. All your fears will be over within the hour.\n\nI closed my eyes, quickly popped the pill into my mouth, and swallowed it. \n\nThe guard cleared his throat. \"Ah...\"\n\nI was struck with a sudden intuition that something was wrong. Immediately, I opened my eyes and looked at him. \"What?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" he said. \"Sometimes I get my lefts and rights mixed up.\"", "\"We find the defendant guilty of crimes against the state.\" The juror recites this line as if he is telling me my lunch order is ready, or that he has managed to roll his 401k over. He must know surely what he has said, and the meaning those words say to my fate? I can't argue with the decision, it is just I wonder as I stare at him, nodding to whatever the judge is saying, does he know the penalty crimes against the state hold? Death by choice. When you are convicted of a crime that carries the death penalty you have two options, the yellow or the green pill. The yellow pill is death, instantaneous and without much fan fare. The green pill is left to the imagination. Nobody knows what this pill does or who exactly chooses it. All the public knows is that when the yellow pill is taken, which is most of the time, the person is given a proper funeral. The green pill has no funeral, with family and ex girlfriends trying to out grieve the other. The judge turns to me and the juror sits down. I don't look exactly at the judge but rather at the state seal below him. I don't really care what he has to say, I already know which pill I will choose. \n\nI have thought long and hard on which pill I will take if I am ever caught. I am apart of the revolution, trying to uproot the oppression and tyranny of the state. I have served this noble cause for 6 years, since I was 17, and took a vow. The vow was that if you are ever caught and charged with crimes against the state you will take the green pill. This is because we are not like other criminals and don't want a funeral like everyone else. It is our last chance to laugh at the face of the state and say can we have more. I await my moment to tell the judge how I will decide my own fate. He continues to blabber about my crime and how he doesn't understand that we can't assimilate like everyone else to the state's wishes. I spit on the ground between my legs at this despicable shill for our overlords. \n\n\"Very well, I see you are ready to make your decision. By the powers of the state invested to me I give you the final decision on what life will be. Will it be the yellow pill signifying your end, or the green pill signifying the states end of responsibility to you?\" The words I have waited to hear for 6 long years are finally upon me. I rise out of my seat and make sure to stare the judge directly in the eye.\n\n\"I have forever been against the state and their treacherous ways. Now I will not decide to take the easy way, I will forge my own way and take my chances with the green pill. I finally will be a free man and away from the fingers of the state. Green I say, Green.\" The words have never felt better coming out of my mouth and through my mind. I have repeated them over and over again. \n\n\"Let the court take not of the defendant's decision. The state is now not responsible for what happens here on. Good luck in whatever happens after consumption.\" I am quickly whisked away from the courtroom, there is nobody there to say goodbye to. My family all passed away years ago, and the remaining members of the revolution are not foolish enough to reveal themselves. I am quickly taken to a basement were a car is waiting. I feel a slight pinch in my neck and the world fades away.\n\nI awake to the sun beating down on me. Seemingly trying to blind me with its brightness. I groan and turn my head away and feel what I am laying on with my palms. It is sand. I quickly pop up and look at surroundings. I am in between two plateaus, there is saguaros as far as the eye can see. I can hear vultures flying above me. I am in the middle of the desert. I start grabbing at my clothing pockets. In one of the pockets I can a package of some kind. I take the package out of my shirt pocket and see the green pill. On the ground next to me is a Arrowhead bottle of water. So this is what the green pill means death in the desert? Isolation? What are they trying to do, I haven't even taken the pill yet. I say fuck it, tilt my head back pop the pill and take a swish of water. I lie back down and wait for something.\n\nAs soon as my head touches the desert sand the world around me changes. The sky goes from blue to a blood red. The sand around me starts to bubble like boiling water. I see the vultures turn into demons with wings. I start hearing screaming people all around me. They are all seemingly in a great deal of pain, like they are getting tortured. Suddenly all the saguaros and rocks are on fire. I then hear something much scarier than tortured screams. I turn around and look at which seems to be the biggest demon of them all. He has hooves for feet, his skin is black, his stomach bulges out. I keep spanning towards his head which is the worst part about him. He doesn't have eyes as much as black pings where his eyeballs should be. He has horns pointing in different directions. He starts coming towards me, I turn and run. I go around the first plateau trying to find a place to hide. The demon all of the sudden comes out of nowhere. He reaches down and grabs me in one full swoop. I am rising above the fiery landscape, he pulls me to what should be his eyes. I am screaming the whole time as he bites down on torso and eats my head whole.\n\nI awake in what feels like a cell. I can remember nothing of my name, or my past. All I can remember is the demon dream. The desert of hell and being eaten alive. I hear a knock at the door of which I guess is my cell. I still have no idea why I am here or what my purpose is being here. An old man with a balding head with grey sprouting out the sides. He is wearing a grey uniform of some kind. I can't really tell what this uniform represents or who. The grey man takes the chair across from my bed and sits down. After staring at me for what feels like years he finally speaks.\n\n\"I am the leader of the revolution, you have been recruited to take down the state. Will you join us?\"", "Two guards escorted me into a small room, lighting askew and chairs dimly placed. A man with white suspenders and a white hat sat across from me. His hands were folded in an elegant manner, the type of way a wealthy person would greet a peasant in a handshake. A small oak box laid in the middle of the table no bigger than a paperback copy of Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. The man's stare had meaning; not superficial meaning such as that of an actor, but true meaning. The man stared at me with intent. Intent to know. An intent to investigate. From what I could discern, this man was a detective.\n\n\"The handcuffs were to your specifications, Mr. Singer?\" The guards removed my bindings. The man in white spoke in rhythmic tones, a soothing and sharp crescendo of vowels and consonants. I certainly wasn't his first customer who requested a specific adjustment to my shackles. It wasn't my fault I was born with weak wrists. Or perhaps maybe it was.\n\n\"A bit restrictive,\" I rolled my wrists in a slow motion, \"but so is my budget.\" I set my hands on the table, mirroring the man in white's divinity. \n\n\"And you kept your budget close to your wallet, such as handcuffs, yes?\" The man in white pulled a thick manila file from his briefcase set on his left. The briefcase had a five digit combination lock with letters, as opposed to traditional numbers, to secure the case. It started with 'A' but I could not read the other four. The man in white thumbed through the folder, licking his thumb between pages.\n\n\"I've already been interrogated enough. Forgive my rude demeanor, but I'm not here to answer your questions, I'm here to receive punishment.\" I stretched my neck. I hoped my punishment would be a nice warm bed to sleep on. The slabs I rested on these past few years have certainly taken their toll.\n\n\"Who said anything of punishment? Certainly you can agree this is merely another chapter to be written in the book of Gary Singer.\" The man in white closed the manila folder with a smile. My name was written in the tab.\n\n\"Another chapter, ha. If my life were a book I would burn it for eternity for its drivel and lack of conflict. I've made my mistakes, but none certainly greater than the lack of risks that have passed me by.\" I sat forward, crossing my fingers.\n\n\"I take it you're not a gambling man.\" The man in white lightly caressed the oak box, drawing attention away from his gaze. He failed to entice me.\n\n\"I tend to stay away from games in which I am not favored.\" I stared into the man's shoulder, admiring the quality of his shirt.\n\n\"Good! Then your choice has already been made for you,\" The man opened the box, revealing a thick velvet the color of pure ivory lacing the inside of the vestibule. Two pills laid bare on a raised platform in the middle, identical in size and color. I assumed this was the choice that has been made for me. \n\n\"And what choice would that be?\" My brow furrowed. \n\n\"I'm not here to answer questions, Mr. Singer, I'm here to deal punishment,\" the man in white smirked in jest. I sat back annoyed.\n\n\"Let's not play games. Why is it that I am here? What do you have for me?\"\n\n\"I have nothing for you, except a choice. I have been sent to deliver a message. And you know why you are here.\"\n\n\"And what is this message? Your ambiguity is unappreciated.\" I crossed my arms and hoped to die was the truth of the matter. Living in solitude was not an issue. Being confined in a small room was not an issue. The issue was a lack of choice, of freedom and control. I no longer held the strings, and the marionette had been passed around so many times between the Federal Government and the very privatized prisons I once governed that I thought about grabbing both pills and shoving them down this man's throat so I could feel once again what is was like to be in a position of authority. The man in white stood up, and began pacing around the table.\n\n\"My message, Mr. Singer, is meant to be vague. Throughout life we are presented opportunities. Opportunities to grow, to invest, to escape. Yet we are unable to see the outcome of these opportunities at the time they flourish, so we are merely asked to make a decision and project the outcome based on our choice,\" The man in white stood behind me, his hand met my shoulder. I stiffened my posture. \"You Mr. Singer, in your words, have failed to take risks in your life. I would argue that there are no risks, merely opportunities refused in favor of a more desirable outcome.\" \n\nI glanced up at the man in white. \"So what? These pills are a representation of how I'm to end my life?\"\n\n\"Or begin it,\" the man leaned against the table to face me, \"it's your choice.\"\n\n\"Begin it in what sense? It sends me into a hallucinogenic coma while I suffer on life support for my remaining days?\" This man was easy to read.\n\n\"Could be.\"\n\n\"Or perhaps it creates some sort of disease, such as Alzheimer's, or Dementia, and I'm to be sent to the psych ward for further processing,\" I half pried to receive an answer. Not that it would change my decision. I had made up my mind. \n\n\"This is what you've been so good at over the years, Gary, analyzing the outcome of decisions and going with the most definite,\" the man in white glanced at the box, \"so here's the definite. The pill on the left will kill you. You will die in peace, and live the rest of your days in a coffin six feet under. You will sacrifice your memories and in return be granted a stable state of rest. Your life will no longer live on, all that remains will be your legacy. That, is the definite.\"\n\nMy legacy had been destroyed by the prosecuting attorney when he presented the final piece of planted evidence that put me here. No one would remember cautious, intelligent, millionaire Gary Singer, no. The general populace merely knows only embezzling, fractured, prisoner Gary Singer. The thought disgusted me. I picked up the pill on the left, rolling it between my fingers. \"And the pill on the right?\"\n\n\"You're a predictable man, Mr. Singer, you won't choose the pill on the right.\"\n\n\"You said it yourself, I weigh decisions based on the lesser of two evils. I can't hold up to your predictable reputation if I do not know each evil.\" I licked the pill in my hand. It tasted like salt. \n\n\"Some say, the pill on the right is life's re-do button. Others say it's a prolonged death sentence.\" The man in white spoke with a factual tone, as if each of these scenarios were possible and he held no favor toward which was more correct. I placed the pill in my hand back in the box.\n\n\"And what do you say.\"\n\n\"I say life is what you make of it,\" the man in white lifted his thigh onto the table, grabbed the pill on the right and placed the pill in my palm, \"it isn't every day you get a second chance.\" \n\nI stared into my hand. I remembered the days of old when I ate lobster with a hefty side of liquid butter. Cliché, I know, but all my life I was cliché. Born into a rich family, living a lavish lifestyle through my teens and twenties, attending merger meetings in my early thirties, and acquiring enough assets in my forties to buy all the hungry children in the world a three course meal every day for the remainder of their years. I couldn't imagine a more gifted life. Or a more boring one.\n\n\"I'm not one to seek second chances,\" I popped the pill into my mouth, savoring the succulence of South African Lobster tail with a hefty side of liquid butter, \"but I'm sick of being predictable.\" I swallowed.\n\nRolling up his sleeves, the man in white rose from the table, \"it's rare that you surprise me, Gary Singer, but I do admit this is one of those times.\" the man in white jockeyed his suspenders from his shoulders as he grabbed the manila file with my name on the tab and slid it back into his briefcase. He closed the small oak box, and slid his chair into the table. He eyed me up and down, his posture ready to leave. I stayed seated.\n\n\"Before you go, I have to ask,\" I sat back arms crossed, \"who are you?\" A tingling sensation coursed itself through my limbs, to my chest, and finally my neck and skull.\n\n\"As I said before. I am a messenger.\" The man in white, now with a much more casual demeanor, tapped the locking mechanism on his briefcase. The letters had been scrambled into nonsense. My vision was starting to become blurry, a darkness circling my line of sight and closing in at a slow, breathing pace.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" words were becoming harder to pronounce efficiently, \"but for whom?\"\n\n\"You know for whom,\" the man in white walked toward the door. Before exiting, he turned one last time to face me. \"Goodbye Mr. Singer. I look forward to speaking with you again. Good luck on your journey.\" \n\n\"I don't believe in l-lu-lu-\" my face began feeling as if it were melting, \"luck.\" My memories were fading, and I couldn't place where I was or why I was there. I felt an immense sense of dread, my hands shook, and my legs were paralyzed.\n\n\"Nor do I, Gary. It's just one of those laws that seems to only matter when it's not on your side.\" The man in white exited. I couldn't hear the door close.", "\"I'm here with Walter Burroughs, who has agreed to give us this exclusive interview talking about how he went from billionaire, celebrity hedge fund manager to convicted felon and then to global philanthropist.\" The reporter turned toward me and continued, \"What made you finally decide to talk about your extraordinary fall from grace and your long journey of redemption?\"\n\nI had prepared for so long for this day, yet I hesitated. I collected my senses and began, \"As of today, I've finally reached my goal. I've helped put roofs over the heads of one million families who would otherwise have lost their homes. I've helped put ten million children through college. I've actually asked you here to announce my retirement.\"\n\n\"You're retiring?\"\n\n\"Yes, you see, I actually couldn't stop until now.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What do you mean by that?\"\n\n\"Do you remember the 'Ultimate Choice' program from back when I was in prison?\"\n\n\"Yes. That was the program by which major prison sentences were commuted to the choice between a lethal pill and a non-lethal pill. As I recall, that program was eventually cancelled. You were the only prisoner to actually choose the non-lethal pill and retain his sanity. You've never spoken about your experiences. Is this finally the time?\"\n\nI took a deep breath. I was reminded myself that I was prepared. \"Yes. You see, when you take the non-lethal pill, you sign a non-disclosure agreement about what it does. That agreement expires when you finish your sentence.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Now, the reason I didn't go insane was that I was the only one to be able to figure out a way to finish my sentence. When I took the pill, I was immediately overwhelmed with guilt for what I had done. I'm not sure exactly how it works, but I suspect it has to do with stimulating a person's sense of empathy. Anyway, the others who tried the pill couldn't handle the guilt. This is quite understandable, as they were mostly murderers, rapists, and such. How do you live with that type of guilt? You can't make up for taking a person's life. I, on the other hand, had only committed financial crimes. After all, I was the first person to scam over one hundred billion dollars from my victims.\n\n\"After I took the pill, I was released from prison. The public was outraged that I got out of prison with no apparent consequences. I had caused countless people to lose their homes. I had caused countless people to go bankrupt.\" I fought to keep my voice steady. \"I had ruined so many lives. I deserved it.\"\n\nI paused to collect myself for a moment. \"This nearly destroyed me. The only thing that kept me sane was that I had a plan.\"\n\n(I'll try to finish this later)", "Cockroaches scurried along the grotesque linoleum floor of the cafeteria, and took refuge inside trash that had piled over from neglect. Walls were smeared with filth in a mixture of unappealing colors -- brown being the most dominant -- and a horrendous stench of urine, and musk lingered inside the unventilated dining hall of the penitentiary. Horus staggered in traipse, and clasped his unsanitary, food encrusted tray to his chest as a child would a stuffed animal. This was a mistake. He was innocent, of course. But then again, his word had just as much value as any of the inmates here.\n\nHorus gawked at the rows upon rows of cantankerous inmates that were huddled like sardines at the wonky, rectangle foldout tables while in queue for his supper. There was something different about this place, but he wasn't quite sure what that difference was. \n\n\"Next!\" A hoarse voice croaked from behind the plexiglass sneeze guard. Horus gazed into no mans land as he daydreamed about the nightmarish dreamscape of the cafeteria. \n\n\"I said-\" The short, stubby man wheezed a harsh, hacking cough while phlegm drooled out of his stoma \"...next!\" And the mesh hair net on his bald, mole infested head fell into the food when he hunched over. \"Ain't got-\" wheeze \"-all day!\"\n\nHorus snapped out of his daze, and fumbled to the buffet line in front of him. He fixed his eyes on the chunky, amorphous gloop inside the rusted steel drum. Whatever it was, it was served by the ladle, and flies loved it.\n\n\"W...what is it?\" he asked, timid and irresolute.\n\nAn inmate behind Horus grew impatient, and tapped his foot in restlessness against a sticky spot on the floor -- shlick, shlick, shlick, shlick -- then harrumphed when Horus glanced over.\n\nThe cafeteria server rolled his eyes, and replied, \"It's food,\" before he slopped it onto Horus's tray. He had never been in prison before, and didn't know what to expect. \n\nWas this traditional prison-style food? Is this what they always ate? He thought to himself. \n\nWhen he exited the line and looked for a place to sit, he gulped his confidence into his empty stomach that grumbled louder than his fearful heartbeats.\n\n\"Psst. Hey, kid!\" a voice whispered. \"Psst. Over here. Hey!\"\n\nHorus scanned the area around him to see who addressed him, and locked eyes with every inmate until he saw a man with a chiseled jaw and eye patch flag him down. Dissuaded, and unsure about making an acquaintance on the first day, Horus crept over to the uncanny man, and stood next to the only vacant spot available.\n\n\"What do you want?\" Horus asked.\n\n\"You fucked up, kid,\" the man whispered, and emitted a sinister chuckle. \n\n\"Where am I? This doesn't look like county.\"\n\nThe man's chuckle turned to spontaneous laughter with no attempt to hold it back.\n\n\"You don't remember, do you?\" he asked.\n\n\"No. I can't remember anything.\" Horus lowered his arms, and slid the tray of food onto the wobbly table before seating himself. \"What happened? Where did they transfer me to if this isn't county?\"\n\n\"You took life over death, kid, and now you're here.\" The man rolled his shoulders and slurped the last helpful of slop from his jagged, chipped spoon. \"The inmates call this place 'The Minotaur's Asylum'.\"\n\n\"Mino..wh- what?\"\n\n \"Don't worry, kid. Everyone here wishes they took the easy way out. And soon... you will too.\"\n\n* * \n\nI can continue this if people are interested.\n\n * \n\nYou can find more of my stories over at /r/EdenRenellaJones. Thanks for reading!\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "“Effectively as of October 12, 2015, all prisoners in the United States of America incarcerated for severe acts of violence, fraud, or other major crimes will be mandated to take the Pill Proposition” read the sign upon entering the police station.\n\nI was arrested as an accessory for drug trafficking and murder of opposing traffickers. My partner, found immediately guilty was directly sent to prison, while I wait on my court order. A few days later, I was found innocent, while my partner would face the new “Pill Proposition”. I’ve read this new proposition makes the prisoner choose from taking one of two pills, Black and White. The Black pill is death. Simply put, it relaxes the body into unconsciousness while all major organs shut down. A simple, clean, fast death. The effects of the White pill, however, is unknown. Straight from the laboratories of an unknown location, the pill itself has a dark, mysterious aura to it.\n\nIt’s been two months since the Pill Proposition, and not one prisoner across the nation has chosen the White pill. Is it really that daunting? Video coverage show the Black pill served in a regular plastic container with water, while the white pill is served in a preserved cryogenic state and only delivered in a solitaire airtight chamber.\n\nOne day I receive a phone call from Oxfield Prison, the same one my partner is in. He says he’s next in line to receive the proposition, and mentions he will go for the White pill. The following morning every major news channel flocked to the prison to record the event. The prison’s warden and scientists allow for the news people to enter, to record the effects of the enigmatic White pill. Upon entering the chamber, we see two scientists in biohazard suits carefully handling a white canister with extended clamps. A button is pressed, opening the canister in a flurry of smoke. The chamber soon drops in temperature as the smoke clears and reveals the White pill. The test subject, my partner, enters the chamber and is given latex gloves and a glass of water. He applies the gloves ever so carefully, making sure he does not tear the delicate fabric, unknown of what direct contact to the pill does to the skin. As he lifts the pill and moves it towards his mouth, he suddenly freezes. Panic and fear can be seen in his eyes. His muscles clenched and his breathing begins to accelerate. Adrenaline rushes through his body as goosebumps rush throughout his body. After what seemed an eternity, he rapidly consumes the pill and downs the glass of water. Cameras flash, newsmen and women fight for a shot of the unfolding event.\n\nA scientist, asks over a microphone if the prisoner feels anything. He turns to the camera, and says, “I feel indifferent. My mind and physical self feel unchange-”. His eyes begin to rapidly dilate, his breathing changes from slow, light breaths to rapid and heavy breaths. His movement is erratic. He then slowly approaches the glass windows and faces the audience.\n\nHe lightly whispers, “Life is such a chore. Your days are limited, unable to see what lies beyond the core of reality. Unlock the door. Call for what lies beyond. Be careful to not wake the wrong door\".\n\nImmediately after, the prisoner begins to shake and rattle, he grows to a monstrous height, his skin changes from a once caucasian-like tone to a dark green. His arms shrink, legs grow and his tailbone extends in length and face elongates to a carnivorous monster. His once human appearance has changed to one out of science fiction. The roof collapses under his enormous height. Once his transformation is complete it is completely visible it is time to get on the floor and walk the dinosaur.\n\nEdit: Formatting, first time posting here too, enjoy!", "I stood before this... a regular prison guard is what he was, I'd somehow expected something more. He looked tired, apparently mine was the 12th execution today.\n\n\"So, what's it gonna be? The one that kills ya...\" He opened his right hand, revealing a small red pill. \"...or the one that, well...\"\n\n\"How do we not know what that one does?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nobody has picked it so far, so we don't know.\" He shrugged, appearing just as clueless as myself.\n\nWhat have I got to lose?, I thought to myself, The other option is death... what could possibly be worse than that?\n\n\"I'll take the second one.\" I declared.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" Asked the guard. He was legally obligated to do so, to give people a chance to change their mind.\n\nI hesitated. The thought of the unknown wasn't a comfortable one. I quickly reminded myself that the only other option was death. \"I am sure.\"\n\nHe handed me the pill, his collegue offering me a glass of water. I declined, swallowing it dry.\n\n...\n\nI stood before this... a regular prison guard is what he was, I'd somehow expected something more. He looked tired, apparently mine was the 13th execution today.", "They said that I had a choice. That my sentence for the ‘heinous’ crimes I had committed was to choose a pill. One pill would kill me straight out, kaput, no contest, donezo dead. Laying on my back, light fading from my eyes, like I had seen so many others do before me. Because of me. It fascinated me to think of myself lying there, cold, unmoving, not breathing or talking or thinking. But my death would be anticlimactic that way. No blood, no screams, no passion or trying to fight for my life. No animal instincts overriding my rational human mind. No. That would not be a death fit for me. Fit for a messiah. Fighting for your life is the most pure experience anyone could ever have. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen the blood soaked faces, the screams of pure agony being ripped from their throats. The determined look in their eyes when they think they can kill you instead of being killed. They always either lunge or run. There are only two pathways for fear to act upon the primitive brain. Fight or flight. Those that run are found and quickly put to rest, not worth the time to purify them. They lay on the ground, eyes rolled up in their heads, mouths open in an eternal scream. The flighters are so boring. Those that fight, now, those are my favorite. They are willing to go through the rigorous cleansing of their souls. The fight for their lives. The fight, that allows them to atone for their sins, and be cleansed to ascend into heaven. And I swear, when they’re done, they’re the most peaceful of all. They had a chance and they took it. For someone who gave others that chance, it would not be fitting to take that away from myself. \nMy second choice is a science experiment. Apparently no one knows what happens if you take that pill. Nobody has ever chosen that before, preferring to die a painless death, rather than face the unknown of the pill. Death row inmates apparently believe that they can atone for their sins without anguish or torture. A painless death, however, is useless. You arrive in heaven without paying for your sins; without acknowledging that the whole point of life is anguish and suffering. Only then will you know what true bliss is in the afterlife. This second pill probably gives you cancer, or makes you go insane. They would never give something safe to death row inmates, preferring them to die than even staying incarcerated for their entire lives. It’s got to be something worse than death, and so I want it. \n\n--------\n“He chose the second pill huh?”\n\n“Uhh, yup. Guess so.”\n\n“So, did it do anything other than kill him?”\n“I guess not, that’s weird.”\n\n“Oh shit. Hey Bob?”\n\n“Yeah Carl?”\n\n“I mixed them up. The pills. Look at the bottles, I usually put them in the exact same order every time. But this time, I mixed them up.”\n\n“So he chose the first pill?”\n\n“Looks that way.”\n\n“Well, we’ll just tell everyone he chose that pill. Doesn’t matter really anyway, now that he’s off the streets.”\n\n“That’s true. Alrighty, sucks though. I really wanted to find out what that pill does.”\n", "\"So you're telling me... nobody knows what the other one does? Not even the guards?\" I say as I look over to my cell mate, waiting him to repeat what he just said. \n\"Nobody\" Jerry said with an annoyed tone. \"Their ain't a single man in this building who knows what it does\". Jerry is a hulk of a man, with short brown hair and small eyes. I clearly irritate him, but he has learned to live with it. Both of us had killed people before, Jerry held up a bank and shot 4 people and injured two others while I had been involved in a hit and run.\nI was clearly bugging him, but I kept on digging for information.\n\"But what about the people who make it? Surely they* must know what it does?\". I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It just didn't make sense to me. Jerry frowned and turned over on his bed facing away from me. He always does that when I pester him for information. I gave up and continued pondering my impending \"decision\". \nSo it turns out that there is a little known fact about capital punishment that very few know. Capital punishment is a choice. Ever since the government reforms of 2023AD and the Overpopulation Regulations, the government have been handing out capital punishment for most crimes. This has lead to a relatively safer society. Of course there are still people who try their luck, which is why we are here. Every person on death row is given two pills to choose from. One of these pills gives you a quick and relatively painless death. The other pill has only been taken by one person, who freaked out soon after taking it and managed to convince the guard to give them the other pill. Needless to say that ever since people have only wanted to take the pill of death.\nBut I'm going to take the other pill. Today is the day I find out what it does. If I'm going to die here then I want this question answered.\nThe thudding at the cell door tells me its time. I get up and say goodbye to Jerry, who completely ignores me. I think this is his way of coping with me going. I'm going to miss that big guy.\nThe walk to the execution centre feels quicker than it should and we are there within 2 minutes. They have a long list of people being executed, they must be trying to rush this.\nThe guards walk me into the room and close the door behind me. There is nobody in here, but there is a mirror along one of the walls that makes me think that someone is watching me. The only things in the room is a table, and the two pills perched on top. Each pill is labelled either \"A\" or \"B\". Pill A is the death pill which I avoid. I lean over and pick up Pill B, and quickly ingest it. \nNothing happens. I wait. I sit on the floor against the wall and I sit. What feels like hours past and I was left uninterrupted. \n\nThat's when I see her. I glance up and see her standing there. She was still wearing the yellow dress. Torn and covered in blood. I see the girl I hit with my car. \n\nThen I hear her voice in my head. The questions. Why did I leave her on the road? Where are her parents? Where is she now? Her lips don't move but I can see it in her eyes. I feel the guilt in me rising. I don't know how much more of this I can take.\n\nI cannot live with this anymore. That's when I make the second decision. The one that I was always supposed to take." ]	10
	[WP] Everyone is born with superpowers that develop awkwardly. At 21, you've discovered you're the first person who can teleport. It's not going well.	[ "everyone else seem to be getting their powers but not me. jim got his X-ray, bill can fly and tina can turn invisible. i can only imagine what my power can be. i won't be that exciting coming from the town drunk who's power is to be able to infallible but is always to drunk. and the son of my mother who has th power to count how many drinks you have had. i know my power could never be that great. \n\n2 weeks down the road.\n\ni thought puberty was bad. try getting a random boner and then randomly transporting into the girls shower in the other dorm. \nat first they dint know what to do with me. i was the only one ever to transport. \nmy dad donesnt give a shit he just asked if i could transport his as to the nearest LC. \nthe girls lockerroom wasn't even the worst....", "It was a strange day I found my.. well let call it \"Ability\"\n\nIt was the ability to teleport, to a completely unknown location but it was only obtained through ejaculation. \n\nTimes and been long and hard.. excuse the irony of my writing for I've done everything in my power to remain unhard.\n\nWhen I jerk off, I always keep a compass nearby. ", "I would consider myself fortunate.\n\nMostly.\n\nI survived the Pyrokinetic fires that destroyed the cities. I survived the Hydrokinetic flooding of the coasts. I survived the Terrakinetics taking islands for themselves and recreating the Archipelago.\n\nI feel really sorry for the Technopaths. They possibly would've won against the Floramancers, if only the Ferromancers hadn't already ripped out and repurposed all the metal.\n\nThe Telekinetics would've been less scared if they hadn't immediately decided that Telepaths were easily defeated. Though, to be fair, the illusory phantasms causing heart attacks were nothing compared to the summoned demons and monsters actually tearing out hearts.\n\nI can only assume that those who went invisible found a way to cope or stay away from the violence, or died. Not that we would have found the bodies, except by tripping over them, if there was anything left.\n\nAnd my thoughts really do go out to the families of those with the power of flight. Low atmosphere, immediate obstacles, planes and poor landings are not high on anyone's list for first-hand experience. And I can't imagine what the last thoughts of those who sleep-flew were.\n\nSo, while I appear to be fading from this cave I'm sheltering in - I can hear waves, as though I'm on a beach, which is peculiar - I give thanks that I didn't gain Super-Strength, without a reinforced skeleton to support it. Or that I could shapeshift, and then thanks to lesser brain activity, never revert.\n\nAs the sound of waves gets closer - that is really starting to bother me - I can feel it getting warmer. Maybe I'm going somewhere nice, where it won't rain. All I can hope is that the variety of Werewolves (or -goats, -tigers, -elephants and -rats), Vampires (Blood-, Energy- and, strangely, Electricity-) and the army of the living dead (between wishes, nigh-immortality and Necromancy... it makes me shudder) aren't anywhere nearby.\n\nIt's starting to smell. I think that's salt. And I can feel sand under my toes. The cave has almost gone now. I think I might be the first to teleport. I never heard of anyone else before telecommunications went down, and the airwaves became full of noise across the spectrum. Those Hypersensitives had it rough. Y'know, before their brains puddled. But even if I'd been the only one, these 2-minute travel times get frustrating. And it's always the senses that get there first. Very confusing for my body. Maybe I'll meet another one, and we can compare experiences.\n\nBefore I drifted out this way, I heard that there were some Psychics who survived the purge. Well, at least one. But she'd been kept isolated, since she was a gibbering wreck. All that death in the last six months... it takes a toll, it seems. And then the ones who could become corporeal were a whole new threat. I met one who was content to rattle a few rocks to scare the birds every so often for fun. Until the Exorcist turned up anyway. Dressed as a priest, too. Must've seen the film, though the eyepatch was an interesting departure.\n\nFinally finished the trip. Sat on a beach, in afternoon sunlight, waves lapping at the shore. Not a bad way to go out. Doctors only gave me a couple of months after the radiation poisoning, anyway...", "This morning, I woke up in the front yard. I found this particularly odd, until I realized it was December 18th. My 21st. \n\nShit. \n\nOkay, maybe I can teleport, or manipulate space, like Vista in that Worm web serial. \n\nBut even if you have super powers, you may not know how to use them just based on intuition alone. \n\nAttempt after attempt left me frustrated and hungry, I lost track of time, and went to work.\n\nIn my job as a driver, I get some downtime over the course of the day, and due to the stress of my morning I promptly fell asleep. \n\nAnd that, is how I ended up in the President's bathroom.\n\njust typed this out for shits and giggles in 10 minutes or so.", "\"Everyone is always extremely excited to see what ability they get, well everyone does odd things to try and activate their ability, trying to jump off things to fly, trying to think very hard about everything, focusing on someone's mind, an object or to focus on producing something.\n\nWell, it is all quite odd to watch from the perspective of one who doesn't much care for this type of thing. I kind of wonder what my ability is, or how to activate it. That would be pretty nice to figure out. But I don't want to spend my days doing odd things anymore. I gave up years ago.\"\n\nHe says while walking down the street to his friend.\n\n\"You have a pretty cool ability right? Even if you can't use it much?\"\n\n\"Mhmm, yeah, I can shoot little bone bullets from the palm of my hand. It took a while, because I have to put my hand in an odd position and then I need to essentially act like my arm is a gun.\"\n\n\"I am a little jealous, i've always wanted an ability like that, something simple, where I could point at something, with my hand in an odd position and-\"\n\nHe up into the sky and at the moon. His friend follows his arm up to the sky and in a few seconds, he can see that on the moon, a very large impact is occurring, the orb starts to crack and burn up as he looks to it wondering if his friend could have done this, if his ability is this destructive, like something never seen before. \n\nHe turns back but his friend is gone, completely gone. He looks back up to the sky wondering what could have happened. It may be that they never figure out completely what happened. The moon has been dealt very heavy damage, and it will be raining down on them, so who is to know if they will survive to know what happened.\n\nYou on the other hand do not live in their world.When our 21 year old activated his ability, he teleported to the moon in an instant, the kinetic force behind his kinetic movement through space, living on earth, going around the sun, going around the galaxy moving through the universe. It all adds up to a speed that forces his body through the moon in just a moment, completely destroying his body on impact transferring the difference in kinetic forces into the moon which gets blown apart as if it was struck by an atomic bomb unlike anything created by man.\n\nHe died, not knowing what happened to him, and unable to ever know what would happen to his good friends or the rest of those on earth.\n\n\n---------------------------\n\nI am a good 6 hours late, I just wanted to post my little story.", "I wasn't able to control it at first.\n\nSame with most things in my life, but I felt as though this was something that I actually NEEDED to control. The first time it happened, I wasn't expecting it, I didn't know where I was going, and Ijust so happened to be in the middle of a conversation when it did. \n\nI was discussing politics with a good friend when suddenly, I was in the bedroom of an old couple... Who were going at it quite rough. I screamed and covered my eyes, wondering how I had gotten there and what the hell was going on. \n\nThe two turned to look at me, and all 3 of us were horrified.", "\"Dammit, of all times. When the hell did I 'port?\"\n\nRunning from a massive group of enraged females, you try to recall the past thirty seconds of pure embarrassment and confusion. \n\n\"Was it when i closed my eyes for that brief period of time? Could it have been when i locked the stall door?\"\n\nIt doesn't matter now. What does matter is that i'm probably gonna be wanted for indecent exposure and for \"breaking and entering\" into West Mills Psychiatric Treatment Center. What's worse is that i didn't mean to start urinating on her plate of food nor did i mean to back up and accidentally stick my bare ass on the back of her friends head. \n\n\"Why Lord, why?\" \n\nOut of all the awkward things to have happened on your first date with Susan, you just had to need to piss. Even before that event you had to be a late bloomer - getting your powers four years later then everyone you know. And lastly, you had to be a teleporter.\n\n\"Finally, i got away.\" Only problem is you aren't to sure where 'away' is.\n\nSo, when i find Susan i should explain; i went to pee, walked into a stall and lock the door, and shut my eyes to turn around and relieve myself. Next thing i know i've been 'ported into the cafeteria of an Asylum and find myself peeing on a patients food as her and three friends eat on the floor in a corner...\n\n\nWhat hell this power has been", "\"WHY IS MY ARM GROWING OUT OF MY STOMACH?\"\n\nI look around in a panic, which turns to pure terror as I realize that my stomach is actually my back. My head is on backwards. My arm is growing out of my back. \n\n\"WHY...IS MY ARM...ABOVE MY ASS...\"\n\nMy fingers are where my toes should be and my toes are where my fingers should be. I don't even know where I am or how I got here. I had just been tidying up my room, and then suddenly stumbled into a nightmare.\n\nI clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes shut. Amidst my panic I am suddenly aware of a clear image in my mind's eye of my bedroom. My perception of time slowed as I inspected my room just as I left it: a half empty glass of water on my bedside table, a pair of socks on the floor by the closet, my fan humming away. Why is this memory so lucid? I reach out and attempt to grab a sock off of the floor and I experience a bright flash then a split second of sudden darkness, and I’m back in my room, bent over reaching for the sock.\n\n“Oh my god. Oh. My. God.” I pat my hands all over my body and inspect myself. Everything appears to be where it should be. My fingers and toes are no longer switched, my arms are hanging from my shoulders and my head is on straight.\n\nI stumble down the steps towards the living room. My dad is watching the Red Sox game, looking like he’s sitting in an invisible chair. I never knew why he levitated like that.\n\n“Dad. I was in my room and I suddenly blacked out and woke up somewhere else, my toes were fingers and my head was backwards and my arms were in the wrong place and…” My heart starts racing as I relive the fear I felt moments before.\n\n“Well, how ‘bout that! My boy’s a teleporter. Good for you!” He floated over to me and gave me a hearty smack on the back.\n\n“What the hell is the point of teleporting if I show up looking like I went through a blender?” I ask, noticing that my eyes are beginning to water.\n\n\"My buddy Jim growin’ up was a 'porter. Apparently the molecules and shit fall apart where you begin, and rebuilt in a new spot. Until ya learn how to focus properly, you re-materialize all sorts a’ fucked up. Jim told me once he ‘ported over to work and didn’t notice until lunch that his nose was his pecker! Hah! What a dumbass.” \n\nI force out a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure I want this.\"\n\n“Don’t worry boy. Jim told me you port back to where you came from pretty easily...guess the molecules know how to build back the way they came. Ya just gotta learn how to focus clearly on where you wanna go. Ol’ Jimmy had no problem ‘portin into his favorite titty bar to skip the cover charge!\"\n\nThat was a relief. Teleporting had an \"edit-undo\" feature. Good for me, I can show up somewhere as Peter Pecker-nose and port back before I die of embarrassment.", "sigh. \n\nGoddamnit.\n\n...\n\nI don't know where my penis is.\n\nI hope it's OK.\n\nJust like the Flame-kids out there, my teleportation isn't a full-body \"burn\" yet. It happens a piece at a time, and not with my full control.\n\nEventually I catch up to my hands or legs when they get ahead of me, but the waiting kills me.\n\nI have a rough idea of what my limbs are up to because I can still feel them, and they remain in the same relative body position as when it began. Luckily it only happens in the dorms or when I'm otherwise focused on trying it. Universities are understandably accommodating of the newly awakened.\n\nI'm just glad that when I fully transported last time, the girls had already fled my disembodied pair of arms floating in the locker room. I guess they thought I was one of Ghosters because I felt a water bottle hit my shoulder... on the inside;I'm guessing my lack of an invisible torso proved otherwise, but I was too embarrassed to seek anyone out to ask.\n\nWhere's my dick? It's been almost an hour. I usually catch up in no longer than 40 minutes. I guess the stress of literally losing my cock is making it harder to focus on the jump.\n\nI can feel a cool breeze and I hope it's some desolate beach somewhere and not something that'll get me on a registry somewhere.\n\nWith a soft \"bamf\" of displaced air, I finally catch up (yes, comics actually portray the sound right). I'm in the corner of an empty art class. Oh thank god. Nobody saw me.\n\nThe rest of the week goes by relatively uneventfully. I jump once or twice but it was into the basketball courts (legfirst), and to the roof of the science building (my entire lower half went first this time!... but I was aiming for the labs).\n\nOn Tuesday I see a poster that chills my blood and I nearly pass out:\n\n>Student Exhibition: The Flying Penis - 60 new pieces based on a recent mid-class incident.\n\nNow I'm in Auckland. This was my first complete jump, and the farthest by a few thousand miles. I haven't been able to jump back yet, but this is as gorgeous a place to practice as I can imagine.", "I rolled over, wincing, as I slowly woke up - this didn't feel like my bed. This was hard, digging into my left hip as I flopped onto my back. My eyes were still closed, but I could hear voices a few feet away from me, speaking in low tones. It didn't sound right, but I couldn't quite figure out why. I paused for a few heartbeats, then opened my eyes.\n\nNope. I closed them again, pressing my hands over them. I waited for something to change, to feel different, to wake up, but nothing happened. I slid two fingers apart and opened one eye, peering out through the slit like I did when something scary came on TV when I was a kid. \n\nThe sky was a deep blue, not quite fully dark, and the orange halogen lights glowed onto the stones of the buildings surrounding me. No one seemed to be trying to kill me yet, though, so I used my hands to push myself up into a sitting position. Shit. I can't say for sure where here was, but it wasn't where I was last night when I went to sleep. I didn't even have anything to drink - we were saving that for tonight, when I was actually legal. But if it was night - what day was it? And where was I? \n\nThe building in front of me was ornate, like a cathedral out of one of my history books. It wasn't recognizable, nor was the language I still could hear nearby. People meant figuring out where here was. I stood and followed the voices. Two older men were around the corner of the cathedral, the orange lights bouncing off of the building giving their face an ethereal appearance.\n\n\"Hej, paní, jsi v pořádku?\" The man facing me frowned, his voice raspy from years of a two-pack-a-day habit from the sound of it. I didn't recognize what he'd said as even being a language, the odd sounds jumbling in my ears. The second man turned around and stared at me, his eyes unwrapping me like a piece of candy. Looking down, I realized why. Shit, I was still in my pajamas. I wasn't wearing a bra, and my shorts barely covered my underwear. Then again, at least I was wearing pajamas last night.\n\n\"English?\" I asked. The first man shook his head and turned back to his companion. I turned to walk back the way I'd come, ignoring the creeping sensation of being watched as I walked away from them. \n\nStairs led down from the cathedral towards a bustling-looking city in front of me. Surely someone here spoke English and would help me figure out where I was. Or - no, there was a sign on the wall right by the top of the stairs. Saint Vitus Cathedral, Prague. How on earth did I end up here? I closed my eyes tightly, trying to remember last night.\n\nI was working on my paper at the library, trying to figure out how I was going to fill 8-10 pages about the symbolism of boats in modern Turkish literature. I ran into Brittany on my way back to the dorm, asked her how her spring break trip was. She had - what the hell was happening - talked about Prague and how beautiful it was and why was I here now? I should be in bed, Amelie across the room, with a book on the floor and my water bottle on the desk right behind me where I could reach it. I could picture it so vividly, almost feel my pillow under my head and the covers bunched up around my feet where I kicked them off. I opened my eyes and realized I was actually feeling my pillow, not imagining it. I was back in my bed. I rubbed my right foot against my left calf and could feel dirt between them - no way that had just been my imagination.\n\nI sat up and leaned against the wall. Breathe, you're back where you should be. You can figure this out. I turned on my desk light and grabbed the note pad from by the computer. Amelie groaned and rolled over so the light wouldn't hit her eyes. I started making bullet points on the paper.\n\n- Just turned 21\n- Sleepwalking? \n- Prague?????\n- Brittany's trip to Prague???\n- Can you sleepwalk to another continent?\n\nAmelie sighed and pointed her arm at the ceiling before draping it over her face, leaving a faint pink glow in an arc over her head. I smiled - her control over light had improved so much. I mean, she had stopped turning my desk light off when I worked late while she was asleep and I no longer woke up to blinding lights from her side of the room. \n\nI looked at my list again and it was pathetic. I was supposed to know what I could do already, not be sitting here waiting for it to happen for frak's sake! I threw the notepad on my bed and decided to take a shower to clear my head. Maybe it would calm me down so I could sleep. I could hope, couldn't I? I didn't want to get any more Prague-dirt on my sheets for one thing. \n\nThe bathroom was deserted so I turned the showers around me to as hot as they would go, filling the shower room to a steam room. I let the water flow down my head, just like a waterfall. My eyes closed, I pictured a waterfall I'd seen a picture of when I was a kid. I'd begged my parents to take me there but it was in South America and we obviously weren't going to another continent just so I could see a waterfall. I yelped as the water turned icy cold and the room went mostly dark - great, another power outage? We'd had three this semester already. Goosebumps covered my body as I opened my eyes to find my way out of the dark bathroom. I slid off a rock into a pool of icy water and sank, surprised, before clawing my way back to the surface. My flip flop fell off as I made my way to the faintly-visible shore. \n\nOkay, this wasn't an accident. This definitely happened and now I was - wherever I was. Catching my breath in the cool early-morning air I realized I was somewhere in South America and completely naked. This was bad. Okay, calm down. What you need to do is just focus. I closed my eyes and pictured the shower room back at school, imagined how the water felt on my head, the faintly musty smell from the drains, the smell of my body wash, the steam filling the room.\n\nI was sitting on the floor of the showers, my shower shoes nowhere to be seen. Disoriented, I stood up. \"I'd better not get a bunch of diseases from this,\" I said out loud, my voice echoing through the empty room. I picked up my shower caddy and turned off the showers, wrapping myself in my towel. Sitting on the bench by the lockers, I came to a startling realization: I might need to change my major from international studies to something a little closer to home.", "Kim woke up this morning and found herself without a nose.\n\nThis had been happening with alarming frequency lately. Ever since she turned twenty-one, in fact. And it was not just the nose. Oh no, it was never just the nose.\n\nShe closed her eyes and kept still on her bed, shifting her (fully fingered, thank god) hands and her attention from one small body part to the next. Hooray, by the way, for still having both eyes. Ears? Check. Lips? Check. Teeth? Missing a few. Not very important, so long as she refrained from smiling today. Everything would come back in about eighteen hours. Until the next...\"episode\", at least. \n\nKim felt her ribs. No casualty. Arm joints functional. Neck tilt normal. Jaws and tongue in position and ready. No obvious holes on the torso. Legs operational. Full toe count of ten. Wait, no, nine and a half. No sandals today. Could be better, could be worse.\n\nTeleportation was great. Fantastic, even. She went to the Great Canyon every morning for jogs (when legs were functional) and had her work lunches in Venice (no, she did not buy lunches in Venice; that would be squandering. She just brought her home-made ham sandwich to Venice, and ate it with the views). All she needed was a photograph, or even just a Google satellite image (though she would show up in the air and have to get rid of the falling momentum by a small teleport hop). She could bring whatever she had in contact with her skin with her, so long as it was big enough for her to see. Her first month of twenty-one was, therefore, absolutely wonderful.\n\nHowever, just into the second month, her ability went haywire like everyone else's. As it turned out, she could only move everything with her, and everything that was her, when she was awake and alert. Whenever she fell asleep, her body would, at random, teleport itself away in bits and pieces. And then the pieces would come back before she woke up, if they were large enough. Things like toes, she thought, probably just did not have enough space-time Oomph to them for speedier recovery. Mass equals energy, and all that.\n\nKim had also never been, say, missing her heart or her pancreas, and she assumed that these things were somehow essential to her, uh, her-ness, so that they would always go together in a teleport. But skin strips? Hair? Half of her tongue? All seemed to be fair game. To be sure, these scattered bits were kind of indestructible, somehow. She had see her neighbor's dog chew on one of her missing thumbs, and she got it back from the beast with not so much as a scratch. On the thumb, that is; she was cut pretty deep by a canine (in both senses of the word) on her arm and had to get rabies vaccine.\n\nSo, Kim had daily minor annoyances. Just like everyone else, perhaps. But how could she possibly show up to work without a nose? Groucho glasses could only get you so far. She would prefer not having to use her power for, well, unlawful employment, since she had to put herself through college. Should she just call in sick? But no, she had a better idea. She sat up, grabbed the tablet on her nightstand, and began searching for costume shops. Wasn't Halloween right around the corner? With some make-up and a lot of conversation-avoiding, she should be able to get by with a latex replica. Just get dressed, get a map, and teleport over; she should still be able to make the shift at ten.\n\nKim got dressed. She got a map. She teleported.\n\n\"Hi there! How can I help you?\" Came the greeting from an employee with a spider hat.\n\nShe said: \"I'd like a latex nose, please.\" Or rather, that was what she wanted to say. Unfortunately, she could not make any sound other than a muffled huff. \n\nAnd then it hit her. She was missing her vocal cords.\nDamn, how am I going to call in sick NOW?", "\"Get OUT, you creep!\"\n\nMy hands weren't on person, so I quickly pushed myself upright. \"Sorry! Sorry, I...\"\n\nI did manage at least to get off her bed before tripping. I had gone to sleep with my blindfold on, of course. That helped a lot. And I had PJs that looked like they were from a 50's sitcom. Anything to be disarming.\n\nI heard a click - presumably the light coming on - and a deep sigh. Then another. \"Oh, it's you again. Still no control?\"\n\n\"I have some control over where end up, now, if I'm awake, but I still can't do it on command. Uh, who are you?\"\n\n\"Lisa.\"\n\n\"Lisa who shoots fire, or...\"\n\n\"Lisa who can taste what people around her are tasting. And you can take off the blindfold.\"\n\nI did, and found my way to the door. \"Sorry again.\"\n\n\"Good luck with that!\"\n\nIn the hallway, I faced a gaunt man who eyed me simultaneously sympathetically and with a deep warning. \"Nice talent. It'll be nicer after the break-in period is over. You've got another... two weeks, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. Two weeks tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I expect not to see you again, then.\" I couldn't help noticing the blades protruding from the backs of his arms.\n\n\"Probably not, sir. And not after then, anyway.\"\n\nHe nodded, and I finished making my way out. A deep breath. That hadn't been so bad as some.", "I come away from the wall with a small, wet sound quite unlike anything I’ve heard before, and slump to the ground, a heap, the rush of pure, unadulterated adrenaline that coursed through me before the jump steadily settling down. I bunch up my legs and shuffle back to my bed, feeling the tears begin to come. I instinctively raise my left arm to wipe my eyes. A moment passes before my muscles catch up with the obvious.\n\nIt’s in my bedroom wall. It was a part of me, something integral, something… I’d thought I’d never lose. But no amount of closing my eyes and opening them again is going to reattach that useless hunk of flesh in the plasterboard and that useless, waggling protuberance from my left shoulder.\n\nIt should hurt. There should be agony right now. There should be blood. There should be some sort of sense that my arm’s been cut off. There is nothing except that curious feeling of absence, that lacuna of sensation, that… nothingness. The muscles in my shoulder keep moving, keep thinking they’re attached to something else. They won’t be. They never will be again.\n\nI look up at my bedroom wall, eyes streaming as reality crushes in on me. There it is. Concentric rings of flesh. There’s the oh-so-thin layer of skin… then the rich, carmine muscle fibres, tapering to white as it moves towards the bone… and the yellowing, the marrow exposed to the air. A perfect cross-section, cut to an impossibly precise vector. The universe reasserting its order, I suppose.\n\nMy eyes lower as I curl up on the floor, my remaining arm hugging my legs into my chest. Tears work their way through legging fibre and onto my knees, hot and stinging. I’d… I’d heard things like this could happen. It was in fiction. Video games. When you teleported… moved to where something solid already existed… placed two atoms in the same space… something always gets displaced. Telefrag. Just another way to stylishly blow up another player in a shooting game, or as a plot device for horrible teleporter accidents. I think it was in a Star Trek I saw a few years ago.\n\nIt’s here now.\n\nIn hindsight, it seems a little foolish. It’s not as if powers come with some kind of universal safety switch. It’s become commonplace to hear stories of young pyrokines burning themselves to death, or the occasional horrific explosion when some gravitic genius decides he’s going to try and make a singularity in his back garden. Why should teleportation be easy? Did I really expect the universe to gently tell me ‘No, you can’t jump here, there’s a wall. Try half a meter to the left?’ That somehow I’d displace what I appeared in and be fine and dandy, leaving only a hand-shaped hole in the wall to explain to the landlord?\n\nHow do I know that the next time I try and flicker across the street, I won’t be interrupted by a passing leaflet or plastic bag blowing on the wind that cuts me clean in half?\n\nSobs. My stump-arm is thrashing idly, trying to get a grip on my leg, not understanding why it can’t. I’m going to have to learn to write again. I’m going to have to quit college basketball. I’m going to have to get that damn arm out of my wall.\n\nAnd who knows what’ll happen next time I jump? If I get cornered in a bar and do it out of panic? If I’m about to be run over? If I… what if I take somebody alongside me? Will we simply… annihilate each other? Scatter our atoms to the wind?\n\nWhat the hell am I going to do?", "I know there are some people who can read thoughts from anywhere. I know there are some people who can hear the thoughts of the dead. I know there are some people who have abilities we can't yet understand. If you're hearing this, seeing this, understanding this, then these words are for you.\n\nMy family lives on 241 Bradbury Rd. in Scottsdale, California. Please let them know what happened to me, and make sure they know to tell the authorities to keep others from making the same mistake.\n\nMy ability allows me to teleport. I know, no one has done it before, and maybe I'm the first. Or maybe all the others died without being able to let anyone know what happened. I'm... I'm probably gonna' die too. I can't hold my breath too much longer.\n\nWhen you teleport, you can't really control where you go. You could go anywhere. And there's a lot of anywhere. It's not anywhere on Earth, it's anywhere. I've seen stars I have no clue what they are... but mostly, I've seen a lot of nothing. There's a lot of nothing out here. Most of the places I've gone to have nothing.\n\nI've been shifting from one place to another about once a second. I have yet to reappear on Earth or even another planet. I'm probably lucky I haven't reappeared in a star or black hole or something. Mostly, I've just been floating. And cold. And unable to breathe.\n\nI know I'm gonna' lose it any minute now. I can't hold my breath any more. If you can hear this, please tell my folks I love them. Tell my brother to stay in school. Tell Sandy I'm sorry, and I want her to move on with her life. Tell everyone I'm sorry. I'm sorry...", "Closing my eyes, I create a clear image of me sitting on the Maya Bay beach in Thailand, as I have many times since I first realized I may be able to teleport at the age of 13. From the photos I'd seen online, it was clear as day in my mind. Palm trees hanging over the water, casting flower-shaped shadows over the narrow beach. A small beach cabin rested peacefully on stilts in the distance. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a plush, white mattress adorned with fresh sheets being freshened by the wind.\n\nBack in my early teen years and up until now, I could only send my consciousness to places I imagined, and even then, those places had to be locations I'd visited before. I could look around for a few seconds, at most, before gasping back to reality in my physical body.\n\nNot having traveled much, I used my developing power as any young teenage boy might. I'd send my consciousness into girls houses that I was friends with, hoping to catch a few lucky seconds of them in a state of undress. Unfortunately, I'd more often happen upon a dad on the toilet. It was a challenge for me to go back over to their houses to hang out after seeing a hairy 200+ pounder lifting his cheek to wipe.\n\nOnly on occasion, I could send my consciousness to places I'd never been before, but had seen on the internet or on TV. When I turned 16, I was able to clear my mind and send myself to locations with a newfound focus. I'd have a few seconds looking down into a Volcano on one of the Hawaiian islands i'd seen on the Travel Channel, atop a snowy mountain in Alaska from a photo on Reddit, and one time even on top of the empire state building in NYC. To quote Gordon Ramsey, \"Stunning.\"\n\n16 was a good age. I could reasonably control sending my consciousness into my crushes bedrooms, rather than their parents' shitters. Hardly ever, maybe once or twice, did I ever catch the girls changing, as my voyeuristic mind so diligently sought after. \n\nAt 18 and a little past my perv-prime, I could start to interact with the physical environments i visited, to a degree. Seconds turned into minutes at a time, and I began to have awareness of my body being along with me for the ride. I could feel the sand under my feet, feel the grain of the wood on the table at my girlfriend's house, but still couldn't interact with my surroundings or physically move anything. Still, nobody else could see or sense my presence. I was a mere ghost in the room.\n\nThat proved helpful to cheat on tests at school. A few minutes looking over my teacher's shoulder before (or sometimes during) a test often turned a should-be-F into a deserved A. My confidence grew with each trip out of my body.\n\nLong story short, that's how I graduated from college early, with honors. My mom is proud. \n\nSo here I am at 21, focusing on the beach I've always wanted to visit, but have never had the means to. My consciousness begins to float, as it typically does, and I find myself on the deck of the beach cabin. Something is different. I feel a breeze combing through my fingers and causing my hair to sweep in front of my eyes, blocking my view. I'm actually here. Physically here, for the first time ever. I'm overwhelmed with a euphoric disbelief. \n\nTurning around, I run my hands along the wood paneling of the cabin, taking in all of the smells, all of the sounds, that have never been part of my experience in the past. I begin to push open the door, imagining that familiar bed strewn with pristine white sheets that I'm ready to jump on. It creaks open and I jolt back in disbelief. \n\nFour midgets, all male, are naked in the bed, which is no longer even close to being white. Lathered in oil and tangled in each others' stumpy limbs, their groans and moans cement into my memory. I need to snap out of this and get back home. Falling back out of the doorway, the last thing I remember before blackness is a sharp pain running down my spine.\n\nI wake up and my ears are ringing. I'm naked in the beach cabin, covered in oil and surrounded by four midgets sleeping soundly. How the fuck did I get here, what happened while I was out, and how do I get home?\n\n \n\n", "\"Free drink?\"\n\nThis barman was an ugly one. Think a cross between a wombat and a fat Ebenezer Scrooge. He was an ugly one, and now he was snarling at me.\n\n\"Why in God's name,\" he said, \"Would I give you a free drink?\"\n\n\"It's my 21st, man!\" I give him a winning smile. At least I think it's a winning smile. \"This'll be my first drink ever. And you get the honors.\"\n\nHis face broke into something like compassion, but hardened right up again like lava in water. \"Show me some ID.\"\n\n\"Done and done.\" I pulled out the card and slid it across the bar. He read it slowly--I was surprised he could read at all, really--and handed it back to me. \n\n\"Fine. What do you want?\"\n\n\"I hear the Red-Headed Slut is pretty good?\"\n\n\"Ugh.\" He mixed a few drinks behind the bar and handed it to me. \"Enjoy. After this you have to pay.\"\n\n\"Of course!\"\n\nI looked down at the swirling red and felt like I was about to drink a potion, like in one of those old-school RPGs on the Super Nintendo. All my friends drank, even some in High School, but this was going to be my first time. It was just the first step on to irresponsible shenanigans and lots of damaged property. Whoo!\n\n\"You going to stop nursing that thing?\" My friend Luke touched the glass and cooled it down until it was icy. \"Can't keep this thing cold forever. This is your first, so you best do a shot!\"\n\nI grabbed the glass and smiled.\n\nLuke whispered, \"Shot... shot.. shot... shot...\"\n\nA couple of my buddies heard and took up the call, \"Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!\"\n\nI drank.\n\nGood god, that had a kick. It was like my throat punched back through my head and--\n\nFuck.\n\n\"Excuse me, where am I?\"\n\n\"Main English nahin bolta hoon. Sorry. \"\n\n\"Excuse me, does anyone here speak English?\"\n\n\"No, no Angrez, no. Please, I must work now.\"\n\nThe sky was smoggy, the air smelled vaguely of livestock, and my shoes were missing. I must've really gone on a bender, I couldn't remember shit. I checked my pockets for my phone and wallet. Not a trace.\n\nWell, fuck me.\n\n**\n\nThe next thing you know, I found myself at a bar. \n\n\"Hello, hello! You are new to Bangalore?\"\n\nBangalore, India. Jesus.\n\n\"Yes, I'm new. Very new.\"\n\nThe barman smiled. He had a big bushy mustache and it curled up like a frayed broom when he laughed. \"I have special drink just for you. Guest is god! You are a guest of this country!\"\n\nHe poured a clear liquor into a glass and it slammed it right in front of me.\n\nEh. I had nothing better to do.\n\nI pounded it, and it pounded me right back into my own face.\n\nI must've been a hell of a lightweight, because the next thing I knew, I was facedown in a haypile in someone's barn.\n\n\"'The fuck you doin' here on my property?\"\n\nThere was the distinct metallic sound of a shotgun being pumped.\n\nI slowly raised my arms. \"I must've gotten really drunk--I'm sorry, where am I?\"\n\n\"You're on my goddamned property!\"\n\n\"But where?\"\n\n\"Just outside of Lubbock, Texas. You lost, boy?\"\n\nI was in the South? Of all places, why did I choose to go to Texas? Also, how was that even possible--I didn't have my wallet. \n\nUnless--Shit. Most people got their powers when they were teenagers. My parents thought I was going to be a 'special child' because I never got one.\n\nMaybe this was it. Maybe I could... teleport?\n\nI thought about it really hard. Really really* hard. Come on. Go. Go to New York. Manhattan. Picture the apartment. Picture your roommates. Come on. GO!\n\nThe man lowered his gun. \"Do you need to take a shit, son?\"\n\nI opened my eyes. \"Sorry, I, I'm just really hungover.\"\n\n\"Well you seem harmless enough. You know what the best remedy for a hangover is, dontcha?\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\nHe smiled a yellow smile. \"Good ol' Kentucky bourbon.\"\n\nThe next thing I knew, I had a glass in front of me swirling with liquid the color of syrup, and the Texan was on the phone with the police. He said they could set me straight and get me to where I needed.\n\nWell. Here went nothing.\n\nI took the shot, and felt my brains shoot out of my ass.\n\nI wondered where I'd end up next?\n\n*\n\nI'm embarrassed to admit this, but in the interests of telling a whole and truthful story, I will.\n\nI shit myself.\n\nI shit myself really, really hard.\n\nMy Cyrilic was rusty, but I'm pretty sure I read the words Kapustin Yar on one of the steel doors. The Russians with pistols aimed at my face helped my case.\n\nI was in the middle of the Russian Skunkworks. Area-fucking-51.\n\nIn a vat of fluid at the center of the room was a thing with a bulbous head, black eyes, and long, long limbs. The sight warmed my pants, I'm sorry to say.\n\nThere was no real way out of this. I needed a drink to get anywhere, and it wasn't like these Russian goons were about to sit me down with a bottle and regale me with tales. They'd just as soon shoot me right in the nostril.\n\nOne approached with fire glowing around his hands. Another's skin turned to steel and he plodded right towards me.\n\nWait.\n\nWait a second.\n\nI could smell vodka on their breaths. And god knows I'm a complete lightweight... maybe if...\n\nI grabbed one and kissed him full on the mouth. Almighty Christ, he must have completely drained a distillery on his own before coming to work. The sick taste of distilled potato remnants swallowed up my insides and ejected them out, out, out towards somewhere else, and somewhere far...\n\n\n\nI woke up in a bubble of plastic. The floor was white tile, the lighting was diffuse, and I had the distinct feeling that I was at the center of a fishtank. \n\nI saw figures move around behind the shimmer of my plastic dome, but they never came clear enough to resolve.\n\n\"Hey!\" I yelled. \"Who... who changed my clothes?\"\n\nI was in a white gown. It was something like a surgical gown, but something about it was... off.\n\n\"Hey! You can't just keep me here!\"\n\nShit. Think about home. Think about the apartment. Think about your friends. Think and go, think and go!\n\nWhen I opened my eyes, I was still in the bubble.\n\nAfter three whole days, the door finally opened.\n\nDear readers, I am once again embarrassed to admit this, but--well, you can probably guess what happened.\n\nStanding before me was one of those beings. Big head, big black eyes, and a face that managed to be as inscrutable as it was kind. It was so strange.\n\n\"Hissk rajak komakoff?\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" I said. \"I must have come really, really* far.\"\n\n\"Hrajar lomarkan, komakoff?\"\n\n\"Right, about that. I don't speak any alien.\"\n\nI shrugged my shoulders. There was really only one way out of this.\n\n\"Though if you understand me, I just have one teeny-tiny request.\"\n\n\"Siera lomarkan. Ij jub.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't be able to get me a free drink, now, would you? See... it's my 21st birthday.\"\n\n**\n###/r/NAIMKABIR\n\n\n", "\"We'll call the Uber. Dan, are you joining us?\"\n\n\"No, thanks, I'll teleport. FUCK!\" \n\nNo, no, no, no, not again. God damn it.\n\nI look around at what appears to be a deserted island. \n\nLike the pirates movie kind of deserted island. Coconut trees and all that stuff.\n\n\"Shit,\" I say, pressing my eyes closed and trying again. Teleporting with ADHD is hell, man. You have to keep your mind focused on one* thing, and one thing only, to teleport. You get distracted and shit like this happens.\n\nI picture the night club. The floor under my feet disappears, and I feel my body spinning into darkness.\n\n\"A suruba completa é cinquenta reais, mas pra você a gente faz desconto.\"\n\nI open my eyes to find a hairy-chested, fully-mustached man in fishnet stocking and a bowtie smiling at me from \nthe entrance of… I wanna say a nightclub… but this is a nightclub in the same sense that a kitten is a puma ridding \na dragon into battle. On fire.\n\nEveryone's naked behind the mustached fishnet stockings man, and there's soap and… is that a sex swing?\n\nGod, I don't even want to know.\n\n\"Where am I?\" I ask the man, trying with all my strength not to look behind him at the horrendous affair. \n\n\"Brazil,\" the man replies. \"This is the hottest swing club in Sao Paulo, dude.\"\n\nWrong nightclub, I think, pressing my eyes shut again.\n\nYou have to have the clear image in your head. That, and only that image can be in your thoughts, otherwise it \ngoes wrong.\n\nGo ask Buddhist monks how easy it is to keep your mind focused. And Buddhist monks don't have to take Adderall to be functional.\n\nI picture the night club. The LOS ANGELES night club – the one my friends are going to. I wonder if Ethan is going \nto be there. Ethan is a nice guy. His father works at Nasa. Hey, what was that announcement Nasa made a couple \nof days –\n\nI open my eyes and I'm in Mars.\n\n\"SHIT!\"\n\nI press my eyes closed again, trying to think of anything at all before I die from the lack of…\n\nFrom the… you know, the pressure and the… oxygen…\n\nOk, I don't know what exactly will kill me in Mars, but I'm pretty sure something will if I don't get out of here soon. \n\nJust think of anything! Anything! Anywhere is better than here!\n\nI open my eyes and I see Matt Damon in his underwear.\n\n\"Dude, what the –\"\n\n\"I'm sorry!\" I say, opening my hands in front of my chest in apology. Matt jumps from his couch. \"I'm sorry! I had \nto think of something to get out of Mars and I guess your face was the first thing that popped in my mind, because \nof the movie, you know? I'll go soon, just give me –\"\n\n\"Get out! Get out!\" Matt Damon grabs a golf club and charges in my direction. Making a run for it, I press my eyes \nclosed again.\n\nOk, the nightclub! The nightclub! The nightclub in Hollywood! The nightclub in Hollywood! Yes, keep your mind \nfocused on it! It's just like performing a Patronus spell, you have to –\n\nI open my eyes to the Diagon Alley Butterbeer stand at Universal Studios.\n\n\"Oh, for fuck's sake,\" I say, rolling my eyes.\n\n\"Hey, dude, there are kids here,\" a fat man walking by complains. \"Mind your language.\"\n\n\"Fuck!\" I yell, widening my eyes at him and his kids. \"FUCK! FUCK! FUCKEDDY FUCKEDDY FUCK! INTERCOURSE! \nFUCK A FUCKERSON FUCKERSWEAR FUCKEDDY FUCKARD! BOOBS!\"\n\nThe man sprints as I semi-chase him for a couple of steps, then stop again.\n\nOk, I have to calm down. I'm losing it.\n\nLet's look at the bright side. At least I have time here. I have all the time in the world to focus.\n\nI close my eyes. My mind is blank. Ok. Let's do it.\n\nNot a thought. Everything is blank. Peace. Tranquility.\n\nYou know what? Screw the nightclub. I just wanna go home, now.\n\nThat's it. Home.\n\nI picture it. My bedroom. The walls. The ceiling, the bed. The computer on the side. The books spread on the floor \nwith my dirty clothes.\n\nYes, I think. Home. Enough with this madness. Let's just go home.\n\nUniversal Studios disappears around me, and I feel the floor vanish under my feet.\n\nYes. Enough with pansexual orgies and distant planets and Matt Damon and theme parks, I think, naturally \npicturing all of these things as I think them.\n\nI wake up in a pansexual orgy at a Jupiter theme park with Matt Damon.\n\n\"You know what?\" I think, looking around. \"This one is actually pretty cool.\"\n\nMatt Damon smiles.\n\n________________________\n\nThanks for reading! For more stories, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)" ]	17
	[WP] The forest is all you have ever known. Mapping your home is how you spend your days. Then one day, you reach its edge.	[ "\"What are these stone monoliths?\" I muse to myself. The edge of the forest is different than I imagined. Monoliths to the sky. How could I have missed this?\n\n\"What strange new world is this? Perhaps this is why the elder forbid us from coming here. This is scary to witness. Do human beings live here?\" I look at the map and look back into the forest.\n\nTomorrow, I go into the land of the monoliths. \"I'll make camp here. Let's see why humanity stayed in the forest.\"", "Fifteen years piled upon another ten years...\n\nMy heart had been steadily beating ever since I began exploring where I lived with my family. None of us are related to one another and yet we've always been together, bound by a bond formed in the rustic wilderness. Sunlight would wake us up and we'd hunt and gather until the stars could no longer provide guidance and safety. The forest sheltered us from most storms and many heatwaves. People and creatures would pass through, never fond of lingering despite my insistence that the forest means no harm, which might be why I never wanted to leave, only explore. \n\nMy hands grasp at the spiky bushes and peel them apart, my eyes overcome with tired emotion. For so many years, I wondered where others were and today my question has been answered. In front of me, I see a stone pathway leading through green hills. And yet without trees, I feel it is unsafe, far too open to protect me and the others. I stay where I am and tilt my head, my heart erratically thudding inside my chest. My hands nervously add to the massive map I keep inside my pack made of Deer and Hisstle pelts. When I'm done drawing the pathway, I back up and quickly make my way back home.\n\nIt will take days to reach the others and during that time, I know there are other places for me to uncover. Those ideas were once filled with intrigue and hope but now I feel dread, unsure if I'll ever leave the forest. I don't want to, not anymore. Just because something is beyond my reach doesn't mean I need to grasp it. " ]	2
	[WP] Ever since your birth, each day you experience life as a different film genre. You've lived through zombie apocalypses, world ending asteroids, murder mysteries and even days as a superhero. Today you wake to find something new.	[ "I wake up, still with a bit of a headache from shooting shotguns all day yesterday. Can't believe a zombie apocalypse can spread that fast. Happy that it had finally ended. I get up to feed my two dogs. I shuffle over to the kitchen half asleep looking for the dog food cabinet. I place down the dog food and walk over to the coffee table for a morning paper read. Headline says \"aliens go around town abducting!\". This puzzled me, I thought april fools was last week. Dogs are done eating at this point, and are barking franticly to go outside. \"Sure\" I say to myself out loud while letting the dogs out. As I let the dogs out, I notice a big shadow over the backyard. I go outside to check. Swoosh! is all I hear as I completely black out. I wake up stuck to a wall by what seems like lazer beams. So many thoughts run through my head, is this my last moments alive? Do these people want something from me? I see someone, no something walk into the room and starts speaking in a high frequency. I have no understanding of what is going on. I start screaming for help \"What do you want from me?\" \"What did I do to you?\". The alien leaves the room, and I am back to just my thoughts. For now. ", "A train whistle shrieks throughout my mind and snaps me awake. I realize that I am not in a room at all. Rather I am in a pigsty surrounded by dirty pigs. My head is throbbing as a pig comes up to me snorting and doing pig things. I go to push him away and realize I am handcuffed to a wooden pole. What is going on? I kick at the pig and watch him squeal away. The pig is a slight respite from the headache, which seems to be pounding away up there. I feel woozy and turn and puke on the ground right next to me. Another pig tries to come over and eat my puke. I again turn and kick this pig away. I feel like I drank a 5 gallon tub of alcohol last night. This so far has not been one of my best days. For some reason everyday I wake up I live a different film genre out. Yesterday I was Mr. Magnifique, a French super hero, saving Paris from the claws of a giant wolf man. The other day I was saving Earth from aliens, but today I seem to be hungover in a pigsty. For some reason I am locked up, I can't get out and I smell like well pig shit. I try to jiggle my hands free, or yell for anyone to help me. All of the sudden I hear someone opening the wooden door behind and I pretend to still be asleep.\n\nI hear spurs clicking as the man, I am guessing, closes the wood door behind me. I also hear sloshing which maybe pig food or he is going refill the pigs trench of water. All of the sudden I am drenched in a splash and shake myself pretend awake.\n\n\"Time to get up drunk, your court hearing is in ten minutes.\" The older sounding man says to me. I turn around and gander upon my apparent warden. The man stands tall and strong dressed head to toe in black. Strapped to his right hip is a shiny black revolver. The revolver looks as new as the day it was made. The only thing of varying color is the silver star on his left chest. I narrow my eyes and read Arizona Territory Sheriff. I feel my heart drop, am I an outlaw in the old west? \n\n\"Where am I Sheriff?\" I ask still waking up and seeming still drunk from last night. \n\"Temporary jailing for Bisbee Sheriffs department. You're awaiting to see the judge after his breakfast for disturbing the peace.\" The Sheriff turns and spits a big pile of dip juice on the ground. \n\"That can't be Sheriff I am not even from around here. I don't remember anything from last night.\" I reply knowing that if I told him the truth of Mr. Magnifique he probably would have know idea what France is. \n\"The drink will do that to a man. Clearly you are not from around here because you tried to start a fist fight with Mr. Rider. You know that man pretty much owns this here town, and he don't take to kind to people from other places coming and starting a ruckus. Quite frankly neither do I, I got other things to worry about. I mean them Apaches out there keep raiding fine working folk. Outlaws, like yourself, keep coming into town scaring the women and children. Let's jus say I don't appreciate having to go down to saloon in the middle of the night and dragging your ass to the pen.\" Once again he turns and this time seems to spit more at me, like his disgusted with me. \n\"Sir.. Sheriff I assure you I meant no harm in whatever I did. I am sure if I went over and talked to Mr. Rider we could come to agreement of some kind.\" This time I spit to my side pretending to have a chaw in, I will not be out manned by this guy. \n\"Well good news, when Mr. Rider isn't at the saloon he has another job, and that is town judge.\"\n\nI walk into to the smallest courtroom I have ever seen. More of a small school room than a courtroom. Which is what it must be, because on the wall are copies of the Declaration of Independence and maps. I am seated in a single chair right in front of the judge. Judge Rider is another grey haired man with eyes of steel. Over his right eye was a white bandaged, which was bleeding through with what seemed like blood. His right eye was also black. He isn't even looking at me as I am shoved into my little chair. He finally puts his paper down, looks up and begins my hearing.\n\"Ah yes the super hero. Odd I see you last night at the tables gambling, and now here you are in front of me in court. What can you tell me about last night Mr. Magnifique?\" \n\"Not much man..I mean sir er judge sir. I don't have much recollection from last night. Let me say I am sorry to have offended you in anyway.\" I say starting to smell the booze pouring out of my skin. \n\"Well first off I have taken the victims testimony from events of last night. I am only here to mediate between the victim and yourself. Clearly you are not from around sir. Some place called France right? I don't know about law and order in whatever place you are from, but around here we follow the laws of the United States Government and the territory of Arizona. Last night good sir you drank to excess and found yourself down a lot of money. In doing so you approached our victim for a loan to win back some of your money. Soon after a loan was given to you, you lost all the money that was borrowed to you. When the victim approached you about your debt, you swung a full glass mug at him. In doing so you incapacitated said victim and proceeded to take his jacket, which you are currently wearing. How do you answer for these crimes?\" Finally some clarity on what all the fuss is about. I don't really even mind the charges, it is the question of am I the villain in this movie? How did I go from hero to zero in one day?\n\"I guess that is true. I have no way to refute what you say. By the way do I get a lawyer or no?\" I speak still thinking about my role in this western movie.\n\"No sir you declined the opportunity for a lawyer. If that is all you have to say then let us proceed to sentencing. I hereby find you guilty. I am putting you in to Bisbee Prison System and holding Sheriff Westfall accountable for your time there. The amount of time will be thirty days, in that time you will pay off your debt to Mr. Rider. Failure to do so will result in another thirty days of jail time. Court Dismissed.\" Judge Rider pronounces my sentence as if he is reading the Sunday paper. How unjust is this?\n\"But Judge sir how can I pay you the money I owe you if I will be in jail. I clearly don't have any source of money to pay off my debt. About that lawyer though?\" I say basically begging on my knees.\n\"There is nothing I can do son, the law is the law. Make sure you read up on it next time you decide to take a man's money. Sheriff take this man away please.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Normally I bit my tongue. But these would be my last words, and they would be remembered forever.	[ "Last words?\n\nHarsh. That wasn't something I expected to have to give out anytime soon. I've been head of the local mob for years. How did it come to this? Big Red sold me out, of course. I knew I should've shattered him into bits years ago. I had a contingency plan to handle Big Red but I only ever told my son, Chris, my plan. I reminisced about the grandeur of my scheme.\n\nI was strapped to the electric chair for my heinous crimes against humanity. The hundreds of people my family slaughtered. All because Big Red got a little scared about one little investigation and ratted me out.\n\nA familiar face appeared out of the window. It was Chris. I understood that he had succeeded in the execution of Big Red. It was time for me to make my move.\n\nThe guard said, \"Actually, I'd rather not hear your last words. I'll just ask you this one thing. Are you sorry for what you did to all of those people?\"\n\nI unleashed the loudest bellowing roar I could muster...\n\n\"OH YEAH!\"\n\nThe body of Big Red came smashing through the wall of the compound attached to the arm of a crane. Big Red's body hit the floor and shattered into glass shards as red liquid spilled all over the floor. It was over. Those would be the last words of a cornered mob boss--I am free once again.", "The pain in my side racks my brain, and I can't really think much more about what was going on. The only thing I can think about is how I will spend my last moments. I don't have much time left.\n\nThe fight had gone horribly, terribly wrong. Everything had just collapsed once they started streaming in from the hallways.\n\nIt was supposed to be a discreet mission. According to what I had been told, they weren't supposed to know we were even here. They were only supposed to know about the distraction in front.\n\nI fall to my knees, looking around at the room of death and destruction. My squad of fifteen men, the most highly trained agents in the world, were dying. They were putting up a good fight, but they were just as dead as I was.\n\nThe operation was supposed to be simple: sent in the 15 recon ops to steal the files while the distraction played out in front, and then get them out and retreat like we were never there. It was so simple. Foolproof, considering we had big shots up front to make the \"distraction\" more tantalizing. Heck, we'd even pulled out a couple of elite front line squads to try to buy more time.\n\nBut they found out. They somehow knew. They knew that we were there. They knew it was a distraction, and they somehow knew where we were supposed to be, and what we were supposed to do.\n\nMy gun clatters uselessly on the floor, blood spattered haphazardly on the handle and barrel. My blood.\n\nIt's then that I see a new figure enter the room. He's an authority figure, I can see that. From the way the men move to accommodate him, and the fact that he has guards, I can tell he's the leader of this operation.\n\nMy body, weak from both loss of blood and the searing pain on my left side and back, falls to the ground. It takes quite an effort to strain my head to see the face of the man who sentenced us to death.\n\nMy eyes start to blur, and I can tell I'm gone in about a minute. There's nothing left for me to do but try to catch a fleeting glimpse of the officer.\n\nWhen I do see his face, it mortifies me. There's no way I can possibly be mistaken, either. I would know that face better than any other person on the face of this planet would.\n\nNormally, I bite my tongue. I'm not the kind to spill secrets. I mean, I've worked in secret operations for years now. There's no way I'm going to spill any.\n\nBut this time is different. These would by my last words, and they would be remembered forever.\n\nUsing every last bit of energy I have in my body, I take in a deep breath and yell:\n\n\"FATHER! YOU LIED TO ME!\"\n\nThen everything goes black." ]	2
	[WP] Nothing went as planned. Your partner's in critical condition, the Eskimo is on the loose, and Smokey Joe's Taco Joint still stands.	[ "I gave Herman a pat on the head. \"Everything's gonna be okay, buddy. I promise, within one week, we'll be the best taco place in town.\"\n\n\"Um, my head was severed from the rest of my body and this machine is probably going to be useless within ten minutes, at which point I will die an agonizing death. That doesn't sound very 'okay' to me.\"\n\nI slapped Herman angrily. \"Don't talk like that, you fool!\"\n\nHerman sort of died after I slapped him. I left the hospital pretty quickly after that. I had a good excuse, though: I had to go find the Eskimo. He was infected with rabies. I don't remember why I thought infecting him with rabies was a good idea aaaaand he just bit me. Crap.", "\"Shit shit shit. Shit.\" Lucas paced back and forth. The plan failed horribly and there was no way to salvage another one. He looked at the door, only able to hear faint footsteps beyond the beeping of the many monitors and machines in the sterile darkened room. He looked back to Michelle, his fiance. This wasn't her fault and yet she was in trouble because of him. Lucas leaned over and kissed her forehead before he couldn't wait for the doctor or nurse any longer. The man quickly left and pulled out his cell phone to see if his friend, David knew where that damned Eskimo had run off to.\n\n\"Sir, no cell phones allowed-\" A blond nurse began to say.\n\n\"Have you ever lost an Eskimo, lady!?\" He snapped and looked up, face all too serious. \"He's probably confused and scared. It's like 100 degrees out there. Do you think he's gonna be in good shape huh?\" He saw no new messages or missed calls and just jogged down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button several times. His palms were sweaty and his heart rate was racing. The plan was to sabotage Smokey Joe's Taco Joint so that his own taco truck could take over the turf. He knew a friend up in Alaska who could send someone down to take some smack about the joint, the Eskimo named Aujaq, was going to pretend to be some old expert who knew the proper way to cook and prepare fish. Aujaq was going to make sure everyone knew that Smokey Joe's was a rip off.\n\nBut sadly when it came time to plan the Eskimo, the guy got distracted and wandered off. So of course Michelle being the angel that she was, went to go track him down. On the boardwalk, Aujaq wound up near a stand selling fried food. When he bite into his fried twinkie, it burned his mouth, he stumbled back and knocked it over. Lucas didn't know all the damned details but somehow his fiance ended up getting hit by a vat filed with hot oil. She was rushed to the hospital and the Eskimo ran off while his rival continued to get more and more customers. \n\nIt was insane.\n\nFinally in the hospital parking lot, Lucas found a cab and rode back to the boardwalk and began to look for the man who was thousands of miles from his home. \"Aujaq!\" He called out. Several tourists looked at him but Lucas paid no mind. \"Michelle is gonna be fine!\" He called out, though he really wasn't sure. He just needed to find the guy and make sure he was okay too. He felt guilty, foolish and a little bit hungry due to the strong aroma of fried dough in the sea breeze air. After twenty minutes David met up with him and as they made their fifth way around the beach front, they saw the Eskimo standing by Smokey Joe's Taco Joint, biting into a fish taco. \"Guess our plan is a bust.\" David patted his friend on the back. \"Sorry.\"\n\n\"Nah, it wasn't going to work anyway...I still lost thousands of dollars with the plane ticket and-\"\n\nSuddenly Aujaq started to cough and choke and threw down the taco. The man behind the counter, dick face Joe asked if he was alright. The Eskimo shook his head and began speaking in another language. A crowd began to form and David and Lucas made sure they weren't seen by Joe. Aujaq pointed his finger at Joe and declared, \"You sully the fish's life by mistreating it and wasting it.\" He frowned, finger trembling. \"You are a disgrace to your ancestors.\" He continued. \"You pile on horrible processed foods and flavors and then you take these people's money to fund your continued crimes against nature.\" He shook his head and looked down at the pile of taco at his feet. \"You have no respect for the food you serve nor the people you serve.\"\n\nThen he walked away and David hurried after him while Lucas took a second to smirk before going to catch up with the others. The three then went back to the hospital in David's old red Volvo while they continued to praise what Aujaq had done for them. \"Thanks again, I'm sure I'll be able to set up shop in no time at all.\" Lucas laughed as they arrived at the sixth floor where Michelle was. \"Tonight I'm gonna make a big dinner for you, man.\" As they walked down the hall, voices quieting down, the nurse from before looked up from her computer and had to do a double take.\n\n\"So you found your Eskimo.\" She said in disbelief. \"Is he alright?\"\n\n\"He's cool.\" David laughed as they headed into Michelle's room to see how her second degree burns were doing and what the damage was. The doctors said she could have been a lot worse and that it would take a few weeks and special treatment before she could start to feel well enough to go home. Lucas kissed her and that night, the four of them ate in her hospital room while they swapped stories and watched the local news, many people talking about the Eskimo. \"You should do an interview.\" David said as they wrapped up. The Eskimo shook his head and said he would be leaving soon. Lucas was just happy for the help and turned to his friend who would be helping him on the food truck.\n\n\"We'll name it Aujaq and the Taco Truck.\" Lucas said.\n\nThe other three just shook their heads as the night faded onward, their crazy plan somehow having worked after all. " ]	2
	[WP] In my backyard, I found a(n)…	[ " Wander, slowly, through\n a back yard of an old house burned down by the shower\n of bullets,\n of a failed robbery,\n of a failed escape,\n a failed recovery.\n \n A tree stands, roots withered, bark gored with metal.\n An old knife carving. A heart, some names who haunt winds.\n \n Wrapping my ring finger was a memory. \n It was time to let this memory slip. \n It was time to let it sleep with the tree.", "In my backyard, i found a used condom filled with shit. Now, this wasn't your ordinary condom. This wasn't your ordinary shit, either. The condom had a drawing of dickbutt, and for some odd reason, felt hairy. The shit was dry and rock-hard, with little flecks of corn and Cap'n Crunch. I took it to my friend Bob, who collects these sort of oddities. He immediately stuck his dick inside, only to have it fall right off. I called 911 right away, because if you lose your dick, your nipples become crusty and fall off if you dont get it back on again by sunset.\n\n\"And that's why I'm here,\" Said the man sitting next to me in the hospital waiting room. All of a sudden, he turns into a tampon with wings and flies out the window.\n\n\"...what the fuck just happened?!", "In my backyard, I found a problem. It wasn't the cute, harmless kind of problem one normally finds in this area. It was a large, nasty problem. Somehow both hairy and scaly and let's not forget smelly.\n\nMy neighbor, Earl, was standing on his back porch.\n\n\"Look's like you've got a problem,\" he said. As far as I knew Earl had a beer can grafted to his hand--you never saw him without it. He was not an expert on many things, but he knew problems.\n\nI sighed heavily. \"You're right about that, Earl. Any suggestions?\"\n\nHe scratched his chin for a bit, couldn't come up with anything, and then scratched his belly.\n\n\"You could ignore it,\" he offered.\n\n\"Has that worked for you?\"\n\nEarl sipped at his beer. \"Can't say that it has. Not entirely anyway. Feels good for awhile.\"\n\n\"Isn't there someone who can take care of these things?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Well, the county has a program. Not sure it's very effective. They won't be able to get you booked for a month, and they don't always get to the root of it. They can probably make it look a little nicer though, cover up some of the smell.\"\n\nI studied my problem from head to toe. \"Doesn't look like it's going anywhere,\" I said hopefully.\n\n\"They're tricky like that,\" said Earl. \"You think if you leave them alone, maybe they won't follow you. Maybe you can just keep it in the corner and avoid it, not let your family out into the backyard. They always find a way though. You'll be clear off in another state and see your problem out the window, looking in, keeping you awake. But when you get back it's still in the corner, too. They aren't normal things.\"\n\nBy this point the problem had already grown larger. A new limb was sprouting from its chest.\n\n\"Will anything work?\" I asked.\n\nEarl walked over to the fence between us. He leaned on it heavily and motioned me over. When I was less than a foot from his face, he whispered hoarsely, \"Only one thing I've seen work. Haven't done it myself, you see. It can hurt something fierce.\"\n\nI looked back at the problem. Teeth and claws were multiplying rapidly. \"Well, I might try it, anyway. What do I do?\"\n\nEarl motioned with his beer, pushing it forward with emphasis. \"You've got to tackle it head on. Go in there with conviction and take what's due.\"\n\nI stood in silence for a minute.\n\nEarl pointed back at the house. \"Or you can come over, help me finish these.\"\n\n\"That sounds nice, Earl. No need to rush anything.\"\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] To give his new song a mysterious/tribal vibe a famous pop/rap artist samples an old recording of a jungle tribe chant, not knowing those words have power. The song premiers tonight, at the Super Bowl halftime show.	[ "Kevin watched, transfixed, as the spectacle unfolded before him. The flashing lights, the fire shooting into the air, the dry ice creeping across the stage, the barely clothed dancers who moved in perfect unison - this was the coolest thing he'd ever seen in all his 10 years of life. \n\nHe'd been pretty excited when Dad told him he got them two tickets to the Super Bowl, but he'd screamed and jived and jumped for joy when he found out who was performing at the half time show. Tony Q, the #1 music act in the world. \n\nKevin couldn't enjoy Tony Q's music like other kids could. Kevin had been deaf since birth. Part of the reason he loved Tony Q's music so much was all the visual stuff that went into it. Tony Q was a world famous guitarist, but he had developed a style of dancing while shredding on the guitar. He would bend and drop and spin and slide, all in sync with the background dancers. Kevin wanted more than anything else in the world to be able to hear Tony's voice and guitar licks surround him in sonic harmony, but he knew that would never happen, and that was okay. At least he would get to see Tony Q perform live at the Super Bowl. That was enough for him. \n\nHe looked up at Dad, grinning ear to ear. Dad returned the smile. \n\n\"Whatcha think, Kev?\" Dad didn't say these words with his mouth - he said them with his hands because just like Kevin, Dad was deaf too. \n\n\"Best night ever.\" Kevin replied. \"Isn't he awesome?\"\n\nDad laughed. \"He sure is.\"\n\nKevin thought it was actually pretty lucky they could use sign language to talk to each other. Their seats were twelve rows up on the 50 yard line, so not only were they really close to the giant speakers that blasted sound he couldn't hear, but they were also surrounded by screaming fans. A sea of faces and bodies were all around them, but a few of the close ones stood out. In front of them, a big, bare-chested man with his face painted blue laughed and shouted and drank sloppily from a can of Budweiser. To the right, a group of teenagers passed a joint back in forth, giggling and singing along between drags. On the other side, a man and woman seemed less interested in the performance and more interested in taking selfies.\n\nThe song climaxed in a rain of fireworks and smoke. The crowd cheered and Kevin joined them, clapping his hands as hard as he could. Tony Q walked over and removed his guitar, placing it on a stand at the edge of the stage. Smiling, he raised a hand towards the crowd, pointing at them. The crowd seemed to react in unison, raising their hands and cheering again. Kevin tapped his Dad on the arm. \n\n\"Any idea what he saying?\" Kevin signed. \n\nDad shook his head. \"Nope. But I think I read he was going to premiere a new song tonight. Maybe he's asking if they want to hear it?\"\n\nKevin jumped up and down, excited. \"Oh my gosh I hope so! I heard he was working on a new album. Maybe we'll get to see him perform the single!\"\n\n\"Wouldn't that be something.\" Dad replied, and laughed. \n\nTony Q walked from one side of the stage to the other, pointing at the crowd on the other end. He repeated this, testing the enthusiasm of his fans. Finally, he was convinced: they wanted to hear the new song. He made his way to the center of the stage, and lifted both hands in the air. Lights started flashing, slow at first then faster and faster, until it was like a massive strobe light. Tony Q dropped his hands and the lights blazed bright. Fireworks shot into the air and Kevin could feel a new rhythm of bass drum against his chest. It felt different somehow, almost tribal. \n\nKevin was prepared to dance and jive to the music he could only feel but not hear, but something else happened. Something strange. Tony Q stood completely still, frozen in place. So did the back up dancers who only a moment ago seemed like they were about to burst with energy. The crowd was still too. What had been a torrent of crashing, jostling fans just ten seconds ago was now un-moving, like a stadium filled with statues. \n\nThe hair stood up on Kevin's neck. He looked at his Dad. \n\n\"What happened?\" he signed. \n\nDad shook his head. \"I don't know, Kev. Everyone just...stopped.\"\n\nThen, a jolt of pain shot through Kevin's head. He grabbed at his temples and gritted his teeth. Dad must've felt it too, cause Kevin caught a glimpse of him doubled over, holding his head. The pain was so intense that for a moment, Kevin forgot about the strangeness of the statuesque crowd around him. Part of him wondered if he was going to pass out, but the rest of him just tried to hold on. After what felt like an eternity the pain ebbed away, gradually subsiding until it was gone. \n\nThat's when all hell broke loose. \n\nWhen the new song first started it was like something in the crowd had been turned off. They went from cheering and singing to nothing at all. Now, something in the crowd had been turned on, something deep and dark and primal. Something blood thirsty. \n\nAll around them people began attacking those that were nearest to them. Kevin watched in horror as the pot-smoking teenagers turned on each other. One boy in a Nirvana T-shirt grabbed the girl nearest to him around the throat, trying to choke the life out of her. He was bigger than she was, but the girl fought back, using her black finger nails to claw at his face and eyes. Kevin could see but not hear the boy scream as pieces of his cheeks were stripped off, and blood gushed from his punctured right eye. Another teen, this one with gauged ears and a \"HALO 5\" beanie used a ball point pen as a knife, stabbing one of his friends repeatedly in the stomach. \n\nKevin turned away from the carnage only to see the couple who had been taking selfies a moment before. The woman knelt over the crumpled corpse of her companion, ignoring the chaos all around her. For a moment Kevin thought she was crying, but then she raised her head, looking at him. The body below her was missing a huge chunk of flesh from the side of the neck. Blood dripped from her mouth and ran down her chin. The woman smiled, chewed and returned to her feast.\n\nThen something hit Kevin and he fell into the aisle. He looked up to see the bare-chested men from before, looming over him. The man was a walking nightmare. His blue-painted face was now streaked red with blood, and a giant gash ran from his shoulder down to his belly button. Part of Kevin's mind registered that he could see guts, or muscle or something bloody spilling out from that gash, but he dismissed the thought as useless almost immediately. This man was going to kill him. He was going to EAT him. He tried to call for Dad, but nothing escaped his mute lips except a terrified moan. Grinning, the bare-chested man reached for him. \n\nThen, in a flash, the bare-chested man disappeared from view. Kevin leaped to his feet and saw Dad struggling with him on the ground. Dad was on top, punching and grabbing with all his strength, but the bare-chested man was bigger and fueled by the demonic music. He punched back, bloodying Dads nose and lips. For a moment Kevin just watched, too terrified to think let alone move. Then something in him snapped to attention. I have to help Dad, he thought frantically, or we're gonna die here.\n\nIf you die here, part of him warned, they're going to eat you. \n\nHe turned, looking for something, anything they could use as a weapon but there was nothing. Beer cans, plastic wrappers and popcorn containers were littered about, but nothing he could use to hit someone. All around him people were either fighting or feasting on the bodies of the dead. He took one more look at Dad, and ran down the aisle towards the football field. He went as fast as he could but was careful to avoid the puddles of blood and piles of viscera that littered the steps. Someone grabbed at his arm but he wrenched it away, not even pausing to look back. At a run, he climbed over the barrier and dropped onto the grass below. \n\nHis eyes darted left to right. The field was littered with the dead and dying, and hundreds more were clawing, punching and strangling each other. The half-time show stage was about 20 feet in the front of him, and Kevin's traumatized mind wondered if Tony Q was dead. He quickly scanned the stage and that's when he saw it. Still in its stand, sitting on the edge of the stage, was Tony Q's guitar. \n\nKevin ran faster than he ever had in his life. He bolted up the stairs, grabbed the guitar and slung it over his shoulder. He leaped from the stage and a moment later, climbed back over the barrier. Sprinting up the aisle, he took the stairs three at a time, desperate to get there before it was too late. His blood turned to ice as he saw that the bare-chested man was now on top of Dad, choking him. Kevin pulled the strap off his shoulder and gripped the guitar like a baseball bat. With all the strength he could muster, he brought it down on the bare-chested man's head. A shock ran through Kevin's hands, but he didn't care. Blood splattered on his face and eyes, but he swung the guitar again and again, and each time was met with a satisfying crunch. \n\nThe bare-chested man went limp and fell over. Gasping, Dad scrambled to get to his feet. His nose was bloody, there was a gash over his right eye, and one of his front teeth was splintered from a punch to the mouth. \n\nKevin hugged him, but only briefly. Dad looked at him, using his hands to communicate. \n\n\"We have to leave. Follow me.\"\n\nKevin nodded and handed Dad the guitar. They ran up the aisle, leaving the bare-chested man lying in a pool of his own blood. By now most of the crowd had either been killed or was busy feasting on the flesh of the dead. A snarling woman in a uniform tried to grab Kevin when they passed the concessions stand, but two hits from Dad's guitar left her with a broken jaw and a caved in chest. \n\nThey kept running until the death, destruction and Tony Q's new single were far behind them. At least Kevin came out of it with a cool souvenir. ", "My dearest Elise,\n\nI know this letter shall never reach you. I know that you are dead, or worse. Yet I must channel my thoughts and gather them together if I am to attempt to comprehend what I fear to be that which is fundamentally incomprehensible. For you and I both now know of the gibbering madness woken from its slumber beyond the...shit, I'm getting dramatic. I know you hated that about me. Sorry.\n\nLet me start over.\n\nIt started with a phone call. Kenya East - you know who I'm talking about, the self-proclaimed \"greatest artistic genius of our generation\" - needed to speak with a consultant. That was unusual. As an anthropological linguist, I've worked on various projects in Hollywood, creating fictional languages or re-imagining dead ones, but I'd never worked with a musician. I mean, when's the last time you've heard someone belt out lyrics in Dothraki?\n\nI met him at his mansion. His manservant greeted me at the front door and led me to a waiting room. It was indeed a waiting room. I waited and waited, my patience wearing thin. Finally, as I was about to leave, Kenya East burst through the doors. \n\nHe wasn't quite what I expected.\n\n\"My apologies, my apologies! I did not mean to keep you waiting. You must be Mr. Blackwood, correct? I am Mr. East, of course, although if you prefer you may call me Kenya. Now, I hate to be rude, but I'm afraid we must dispense with the formalities, for I have a show scheduled at the Super Bowl in several hours and I have a plane to catch...but I'm babbling. My apologies.\" \n\nI stared at him for several long moments. \"Um...you're not quite what I...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" he said, dismissively waving his hand, \"I'm far more articulate than most people expect. Image, Mr. Blackwood, image is deceptive and we are victims to our expectations. I play a role in my professional life, in much the same way a shaman in the Pacific Northwest may don frightening masks while driving away the spirits. Let us set aside our masks, Mr. Blackwood, and simply converse as two well-educated men.\"\n\n\"Um...\" \n\nHe sighed. \"I do hope your advice will be more profound than 'um'. I understand you are something of an expert on proto-languages?\" \n\nI gathered my thoughts and cleared my throat. \"That's right, um, Mr. East. I've created several fictional languages and...\" \n\n\"Yes, thank you, I know. But there is one real language in particular which interests me. A...certain universal language, found in the ruins of our earliest civilizations, as well as a few surviving yet dwindling aboriginal tribes.\"\n\nI hesitated. I knew what he was talking about. I had investigated this very topic, but it isn't the kind of thing you openly discuss if you want to survive in academia. ", "\"...and what a surprisingly better performance than expected from GWAR! They've really managed to wow the audience with their 'blood' cannons.\"\n\n\"And how about the 'animal sacrifice' there John, I saw them back in 2015 and quite frankly I was worried they would use the same tired gags and props without trying anything new. If I didn't know any better I'd swear that was a real boar!\"\n\n\"Absolutely Kevin, new props, new music GWAR really pulled all stops to make this halftime show a real show stopper.\"\n\n\"Now we go back to the game as the Detroit lions take the field, OOP! The quarterback has slipped on some of the fake intestine that snaked around the field from the show, guess they could've done a better job setting up for the game again. He's getting up and he seems to be fine, if a bit tangled.\"\n\n\"Now John, it seems as if the fake intestine are winding around all the players and dragging them into a huddle, this is most unusual. Do you think its a continuation of GWARs performance.\" \n\n\"It may very well be, it seems the players are melding together now into an unholy mountain of flesh. I tell you Kevin if this delays the game any further we might have to sell some more advertising slots ahhaha.\"\n\n\"Hahaha... OK John they seem to be standing as one now, the referee is signaling for the play to commence. Did he have horns, hooves and eighteen eyes earlier?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, but I for one am glad that the NFL has found a referee who isn't blind. The Lions have the ball and they snap it to... Themselves. This is really tough to call but it appears they are wading through the Cowboys and merging them with their mass as they make their way to the forty, the thirty, the twenty! The ten! Its a touch down! They aren't stopping. They've stepped into the stands. They are literally bringing the fans into the game! They lions have grown to fifty foot tall and are devouring the audience. Never in my life have I ever seen this, this is NFL history, Kevin what do you- Kevin! KEVIN GET BACK HERE WE HAVE A CONTRACT!\"" ]	3
	[WP] Describe a color by using the five senses (taste, touch, sight, sound, smell) but don't say the name of the color.	[ "What’s in a name? You might just as well ask what isn’t in one. Names have power, as do words. Some colors have power, too. Power to hurt and to heal. Power to describe and obscure.\n\nHow do you describe something that isn’t? A color that can feel cold and sterile one moment and warm and welcoming the next? That can taste of cold and ice and sky, or a sweet creaminess … of bitterness, or blandness? \n\nThat smell you sometimes smell in colder climes on a gray and threatening morning might just as easily be described as the smell of a warm tropical afternoon at the ocean’s edge. Or the comforting aroma of an eagerly anticipated night’s rest when you turn down the blankets after a weary day.\n\nWe hear it every day as well … and yet we don’t. It speaks to us in a million competing voices, much like life itself. And like life itself, we know it’s there yet find it almost impossible to focus on, and we let it wash over us instead, unheeded.\n\nOur eyes can be just as easily fooled. It’s life in some places … death in others. Hospitals and newborns and nurses … or the bandage, not yet stained with lifeblood. The silence of the shroud. \n\nSome words have power, and some colors do too. What can you make of a color that can stand for much that is perceived to be wrong with the world? Imbalances and assumptions. Unspoken slights and unexamined satisfaction. \n\nAnd all this fuss over something that is nothing.", "The taste is one of richness, a flavor few can afford. \n\nIt feels like soft velvet, but strong, thought it will be luxurious for eternity. \n\nIt looks striking, setting apart common people from those with status. \n\nIts sound has a deep bass line, like a low brass chorus, but suddenly erupts into fanfare when it becomes brighter. \n\nIt smells musky, like a fine cologne, but with subtle hints of ingredients bearing a hefty price tag.", "It feels like soft and firm at the same time. A bit springy if you push it hard enough, but it isn't something that would break your fall if you were to fall on it from a twenty storey building.\n\nIt sounds like music that would be right at home at a beach party. It is energetic and gets you going.\n\nIt smells relaxing. Calming. Even medicinal at times. Let's just say it wouldn't be out of place if you found it in an aromatherapy burner.\n\nIt tastes delicious. Sometimes acidic, sometimes bitter. \n\nIt looks like how a ball of gas from Earth on certain days - bright and shining fiercely. Some would even say a rabbit's favorite treat.", "A taste of unnatural goods, both poison and sweet, of lack of control and yet security.\n\nTouching it brings unnatural patterns, sludgy but not sticky, like a nebula.\n\nIt looks like the human mind, with grotesque aberrations and yet beauty in its complexity.\n\nThe sounds it makes are warped and twisted, with the beat of a five-crotchet sonata.\n\nIt smells like flowers, but the smell is almost sickly sweet. Not quite, however. ", "I wrote this like two years ago (and looking at it again made me want to see other people's ideas)\n\nThe best way for me to describe this color, is that it’s like an adventure. Partly foreboding and mysterious, but also enticing and full of wanderlust. \n\nSmell: The smell of pine after it rains. The sweet, cloying scent of passing under rotting vegetation. The sharp, dank stench of skunk (though it might be pot) as I walk pass a clearing. \n\nSound: The clacking of dice that land on the highest numbers. A silent cheer when the enemy is gone. But there’s an absence of sound as well, except for my too loud footsteps cracking twigs and thudding against gravel, dirt and stone. \n\nSight: The stone steps woven with moss toward the end of the Ben Burr Trail. A path that curves out of view, trees like arches, bidding me see what’s at the end. Sunlight speckling the ground through the leaves in an insincere attempt to assure a cautious traveler that there is nothing malicious in the woods.\n\nTouch: The prickling on the back of my neck-the unease rippling over my skin as if I just dived into lake water-as I pause my music because I know the underlying, rumbling growl I just heard did not come from my earphones. I brush my fingers over the smooth, worn edge of my pocket knife’s casing. Ready to flip open the blunt, practically useless blade. \n\nTaste: The bitter taste of excitement at the back of my tongue souring into fear. The kind of taste I get from sitting towards the front of a rollercoaster, teetering over the edge of the first hill. Or when I convinced my friend to enter the haunted house with me, and after the first eerie noise I begin to realize I have greatly erred. \n\nTo me, none of that’s a bad thing. It’s part of what makes an adventure interesting. What’s the point of doing anything if there’s no threat of losing? What’s the purpose of anything it’s not fantastical like trying to find the realm of the fae. Or a cave hidden amongst thick, choking musty vines that could lead to a city of gold? Life can be full of adventure, big and small, if one simply goes out and looks for them. \n" ]	5
Are we in a sci-fi setting, with alien civilizations dealing with the re-emergence of humanity? Is this post apocalyptic, and the neighbors are other humans whose ancestors sought different shelter? Is this even about a single extremely isolationist culture bringing itself back into the "normal" world? Are the differences physical, with humans now being huge, genetically engineered juggernauts? Are we now lanky and pale from centuries underground? Are the differences social, with whole new cultures springing up from the hidey-holes of humanity? What would form taboos, how would subjective morality differ? New ideas on religion and philosophy, whole new languages? The English of today is different from the English of six centuries ago, after all. I've had a solid week of brainstorming about this, and I'd like to see what people who aren't me come up with.	[WP] Humanity emerges from centuries of seclusion, to find themselves and their neighbors vastly different than they remember.	[ "The Human Isolate was not a construct of its inhabitants' devising. It was a prison sentence - Humanity had transgressed some interstellar law. Humanity could not recall what they had done, or whether they had ever known at all. They assumed that their crime had involved nuclear aggression, but all they knew for certain was that their punishment deprived them of the technology to manufacture negative matter. Without that vital stabilizing substance, their methods of superluminal travel became impossible, restricting Humanity to its home system. Their isolation would last as long as it took them to discover a new way to circumvent the speed of light.\n\nMost species would break - repent - confess - beg for re-admittance to galactic civilization. But Humans are persistence hunters; they evolved to pursue their prey relentlessly until it collapsed from exhaustion. They no longer hunt, but their persistence is still remarkable. Their homeworld orbited their sun 500 times before they hit upon a novel method of defying relativity, by which time their languages had drifted and mutated so much they were practically incomprehensible even to the dedicated Human-translation machines..\n\nHumanity itself had changed drastically during their isolation. Their drive to find a way around the speed of light without the use of negative matter had accelerated their already impressive technological growth; they achieved Kardashev I classification during their seclusion. Even their physiology was radically altered, dividing into two distinct species - one suited to planetary surfaces and upright ambulation, and another adapted for freefall and microgravity.\n\nWithout suitable planets for colonization, Humanity had, without a second thought, wiped out all lifeforms in their system outside their homeworld. They completely \"terraformed\" no fewer than three planets and seven moons within their own system, obliterating any native microbes. Biology was of no concern to a species dedicated to hyperspatial engineering. Even these huge habitable areas became overpopulated, leading to an technological arms race between machine and human labor - who could work cheaper, faster, better. Even heavily-augmented human laborers were no match for the machines, with which the laborers eventually merged to form a third species.\n\nHumans before the formation of the Isolate valued \"life\" - continuation of the self - above all else. After the Isolate, \"life\" meant nothing to them - sentience was commonplace, easily created and destroyed. Even most material goods meant nothing to a species capable of fabricating anything lighter than iron out of energy. Humanity became a pragmatic species, valuing nothing but heavy elements and information.\n\n---\n\nBut the galaxy had not stagnated in humanity's absence.\n\n---\n\nWhen the ship appeared out of nowhere inside the Galactic Senate's Subluminal Zone, there was alarm and confusion. Its technology was incomprehensible, its design unfamiliar. The confusion increased as the translators identified its electromagnetic transmissions as conforming to archaic Human formats like Morse and ASCII. But the Humans on board were even more confused.\n\nThis was not the Galactic Senate they had left. The C'tfnskk, an ancient race and a staple of the Senate for millenia, were nowhere to be found. The upstart Jelkath had risen to a place of power and respect, while several species that had held power during Humanity's time had sunk to low ranks or been discharged altogether. The records of Humanity's crime had been lost, while many species warred violently or committed other acts that would have warranted isolation when Humanity had been a member of the Senate. Old trade partners locked their borders, while many others tried constantly to steal super-advanced Human technology.\n\nThey did not take the change well.\n\nHumanity no longer governs itself. Its isolation turned out to render it an even greater threat. Sol and its outlying colonies are now controlled by the Zrag'vett, who make a profit teaching other species the secrets of Human technology. Humans themselves have achieved what their ancestors would have considered Utopia, with one exception.\n\nThe Galactic Senate remains firmly the seat of power in the Milky Way. Alliances against it are no match for the Zrag'fett and their ultimate weapon - Humanity.", "The current year is 2324. \n\nHumanity used to look upon the starts and wonder if they were alone. Three centuries ago they no longer needed to wonder. They were not alone, in fact the universe was teeming with more life than what one could possibly imagine. Unfortunately, most of the life was not friendly.\n\nFirst came the Malaari, in the form of refugees. Members of the Malaari Covenant they were displaced by an ongoing war with the Din'Chirak.\n\nThe Malaari people were deeply religious, heeding the guidance of their living prophet, known simply as 'The Immortal' for while their species only live sixty to seventy human years, he has live 30 thousand. Appearance wise they look not all to different from the concepts of the grays. However unlike that concept they really were not all that more technologically advanced than humans. They hadn't even adopted the transistor, and instead relied on vacuum tubes. It was hard for some to believe they were capable of space flight, let alone at the height of their power reigned over dozens of star systems. \n\nThe Din'Chirak had seen to that their influence had waned. Giant bugs. Some smaller than humans, others as big as a small house. Commanding huge numbers and appearing to utilize a hive mind they were a fearsome thought. Luckily, at the time, they were lead by a single being. Yelkaza, or 'The Dark Prophet' as the Malaari referred to him. He apparently thought himself a god, and did not appreciate The Immortals existence. The Veracity of such claims are unknown. In any event they seemed to target the Malaari with exclusivity. \n\nThe people of earth were hesitant to welcome the new comers to earth. Some were xenophobic, others feared what their religious views might bring. But several nations viewed them as a way to get technological advancement ever so slight as it may be. The Malaari refugees were more than willing to integrate, and their religion of Maari was similar enough to Abrahamic religions they spouted new offshoots. \n\nShortly after came the Vaynar. A coalition of species. The first being a draconian humanoid species, whose noteworthy traits were wings that allowed them to fly short distances, and their incredibly long life of around one hundred and twenty thousand years. But they were the minority. Another species was perplexing, they almost appeared human or at least related to their cousins the neanderthals, except they featured long pointy ears, and like the draconians had a long life, though of only around six hundred human years. \nThe final was a synthetic artificial intelligence species of androids, that apparently a Malaari scientist had created after he had defected from the empire centuries prior. \n\nThe Vaynar called their leader Emperor Velik. Those of this coalition that on earth made it abundantly clear they were suspicious of Malaari presence on Earth. The Malaari empire had invaded their home world several centuries prior while they were technologically deficient. They had been emancipated in part due to the Din'Chiraks involvement, though they were in gearing up for their own revolt anyways. Whatever Yalkaza's reasons for helping them remains another unknown.\n\nThis sparked a brutal world war on earth, between factions who allied with the Malaari, those that allied with the Vaynar, and those that wanted to remain neutral and independent. Almost boiling over into nuclear war, however the Vaynar brought in heavy ballistic systems that proved more than capable of shooting down any radioactive warhead launched. \n\nThis war lasted almost half a century, costing more than a billion lives world wide. It was finally brought a end after what is shall be known as the \"Malaar Invasion'. \nThe Din'Chirak lead remotely by the Dark Prophet had pushed through Malaari territory and were in the process of invading the Homeworld of Malaar. At the same time and unknown group, loosely affiliated with the Vaynar, but not directed by their government found their way deep within Din'Chirak territory. Details are unknown, but Yelkaza was slain. \n\nWithout Yelkaza guiding them, the bug went into a frenzy. While before they had been content to attack the Melaari and leave everyone else along, they no longer held this ideal. They wanted to consume everything. And their numbers were far greater than anyone thought possible. They spread across the galaxy like locusts.\n\nThe only saving grace was the insects were highly inefficient in combat, preferring to swarm their enemies and utilize organic weapons, such as stingers, claws and acid. But they came as a torrent, with no end in sight.\n\nSeveral human factions on Earth had managed to establish colonies outside the solar system, however contact with them and the two alien factions was lost.\n\nHumanity once again found themselves alone, cut off from the rest of the galaxy.\nAny Vaynar Personal still stationed on the planet found themselves stranded. \n\nAs the Din'Chirak poured into the solar system the human factions fought of their advancement they best they could, but they were slowly being pushed back towards earth.\n\nNot long after the event, a dozen or so Malaari vessels found their way through the storm to earth. Aboard were what was left of the Imperial fleet, and the Immortal himself. They had fled Malaar with a thousands ships carrying millions of lives, they were all that was left.\n\nThe immortal brought grave news. Malaar had fallen, the Malaari Empire was no more.\n\nThis hit everyone, Malaari, Human and Vaynar hard. Realization set in, the Din'Chirak didn't just want to cripple or topple governments. They wanted to eradicate. To lose to them meant extinction. While some might suspect this may come as a discouragement, the people of earth took this as a war drum, a call to arms.\n\nThe earth powers absolved there power, in favor a one world government. Sure there were resisters, but what authority, or material wealth in comparison to total annihilation. \n\nA new era of human history was established. Though some hated to admit it, this situation was the best thing that could happen. As resources were funnelled towards defense the gap between the rich and poor began to shrink. Since every able bodied human might need to be called upon to fight, proper food distributions were established to make sure no one went hungry.\n\nThis however put a strain on food supplies. No longer could grain be wasted on livestock, and was better suited feeding those on the front lines. Cow became a luxury no one could afford, instead alternative meat sources were found. Hamsters, guinea pigs and insect found there way as main staples of diets.\n\nOther luxuries past generations enjoyed could no longer be afforded, such as televisions, person computers and even at points electricity for residential areas. \n\nThe human race was determined to survive. And they did. For two and half centuries they fought on. In that time they not only managed to stop the Din'Chirak advancement, but even managed to push them back out of the solar system. But moving any further was impossible.\n\nNear the end of this period of Isolation, the immortal called for expedition. He for whatever reason knew he had to reach Vaynar territory. Grateful for his guidance over the centuries, the people of earth provided him as much resources as they could muster, and he departed into the unknown, taking with him most of the Malaari left on the planet and almost as many humans. \n\nThey were never seen from again.\n\nSeveral years after his departure, one day the Din'Chirak stopped attacking. \n\nFive years later, a Vaynar Warship arrived in the Solar System. They brought both good and tragic news.\n\nThe Immortal had made it to Vaynaar territory. He along with much of the Vaynaar fleet had pushed into Din'Chirak territory locating a mind nexus. The Immortal, his entire expedition and many Vaynar lives had sacrificed their lives taking them out. \n\nLike a hydra, they had cut off its head. And thousands of head had spawned, each competing for control. The Din'Chirak were now more willing to fight each other than other factions. The storm was over.\n\nRumors spread however, that the Immortal had not sacrificed his life, but instead had tried to rest control of the insects for himself, but had failed. Such claimed were outright denied by the Vaynar government.\n\nHumanity was once again able to reach the stars again. \n\nThe Vaynar were still as strong as ever. Though they had lost much of their military in taking down the Nexus, it was mostly their synthetics who had taken the brunt.\n\nThe Malaari Empire was indeed gone. The Din'Chirak still held Malaar, and their was talk of reclaiming it for the Malaari people. But the settlements that had survived the devastation seemed more interested in fighting for power and trying to take the place of the theocratic throne. They also seem willing to blame the Vaynaar for the loss of their leader.\n\nInteresting enough one of the Human settlements established prior had managed to live through the devastation. Though they would hardly be recognizable as humans. They had altered themselves, adopting Din'Chirak genetics into their own. They seem ambivalent to earth survival.\n\nWhat does the future hold for humanity. A common enemy managed to unite them, managed to push them forward. With that gone, will they descend into anarchy, or will they push forward and establish an empire to compete with the Vaynar.\n\nOnly time will tell.\n\n\nEdit: My apologize if the structure is sub par, this is one of my first times responding to a writing prompt. Also my apologize for any spelling or Grammatical mistakes.\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You have a time-travelling phone. This means you can call anyone in the past or future, provided you have the correct phone number.	[ "\"You have a time travelling phone. This means you can call anyone in the past or future, provided you have the correct phone number.\"\n\n(the director was sitting upright in his chair, with one leg over the other, a script in one hand and nothing in the other because he had lost it the great camera collapse of 2002 so sometimes he wore a hook but today he was too lazy to put it on)\n\n\"So...I'm a time traveler?\"\n\n(Tom Cruise gave a blank stare at the director)\n\n(he was confused)\n\n(then he took a quick selfie because his hair looked fantastic)\n\n\"No no no no... You are a normal guy who acquires a phone that can call anyone from any time.\"\n\n(the director seemed a bit distressed)\n\n(he thought Tom would buy into his idea right away)\n\n\"But...no...what? Henry, did you even think about this script? I mean, come on. What the hell man!\"\n\n(Tom was visibly upset)\n\n(he could be adopting more kids with his super hot wife but instead he was stuck here with this, this...amateur director)\n\n\"What! What's wrong with it?\"\n\n(Henry the one handed director threw up his arms, showing his impressive pit stains)\n\n\"First off, how does my character even get this thing? And second, why would anyone want to use this device?\"\n\n(Tom was an actor, which meant he was good looking, which meant he could say anything he wanted and usually get away with it)\n\n(but right now, he had an honest point)\n\n\"Tom, listen, baby; this is a movie! Anything can happen!\"\n\n(the director was planning on talking some more but Tom raised his voice and stood up out of his chair as though he were a four year old protesting after being forced to eat vegetable)\n\n\"You listen to me Henry! What if the phone number changes! WHO DOES IT CALL HENRY? DO I TALK TO TWO PEOPLE AT ONCE? NO THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE HENRY! EVEN SCIENCE FICTION NEEDS TO MAKE SOME SORT OF SENSE!\"\n\n(instead of sitting back down, Tom continued to stand up)\n\n(he was fuming)\n\n(not only was he pissed about the half-assed script, the hissy fit he just threw messed up his perfect hair)\n\n(you never mess with Tom Cruise's hair)\n\n\"But Tom-\"\n\n\"I'LL COME BACK IF YOU WRITE SOMETHING BETTER!\"\n\n(and with that corny last line, Tom Cruise stormed out of the building)\n\n(as he left, he gently pushed down his chair, because he was really really mad but he did not want to break the chair, because that would be impolite)\n\n\"Uh, yeah, it's me, Tom didn't like the script\"\n\n(the director had his cell phone up to his ear and he made a wincing face as though he were preparing for an explosion)\n\n(or in this case, preparing to get bitched at)\n\n\"TELL HIM TO GET HIS ASS BACK IN THERE AND MAKE THE GOD DAMN MOVIE OR ELSE HE'S FIRED!\"\n\n(this dude on the phone, whoever he was, did not appreciate Tom's exit)\n\n\"He said he wouldn't do the movie if he kept this scri-\"\n\n\"FUCK TOM, WE ARE THE ONE'S PAYING HIM TO DO THE MOVIE SO HE BETTER DO WHAT WE TELL HIM!\"\n\n(Henry scratched his beard nervously with the nub at the end of his arm)\n\n(he was flustered)\n\n\"What if we just...Changed the script? I mean, Tom's not the first to walk out on th-\"\n\n\"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?\"\n\n(oh fuck)\n\n(^ Henry said to himself while he tried his best not to piss in his new pair of boxer briefs)\n\n\"I said w-\"\n\n\"I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT WE AGREED ON WHEN WILL SMITH LEFT? WE WEREN'T GOING TO CHANGE THE SCRIPT\"\n\n\"I know but-\"\n\n\"BUT WHAT? THERE ARE NO BUTS!\"\n\n(Henry began to tremble as the man on the phone sighed)\n\n(a few moments of silence went by)\n\n\"You're fired\"\n\n(a tear began to form in Henry's eye after the man hung up)\n\n(he began to wipe it off with his nub until he felt that something wasn't right)\n\n(he felt a little...)\n\n(wet)\n\n(he looked down and saw that his camo pants were soaked around his crotch)\n\n\"Awww hell, I have to walk home today too.\"", "-Hello, Son. I've been expecting your call all day.\n\n-You never called me son before, Dad... I'm sorry, I meant to say \"thanks for answering\".\n\n-Why wouldn't I? It's all I have left to do since you...\n\n-Alright, Dad. Let's talk about how my experiment went.\n\n-Well, it went awful. I'm depressed every day, feeling like I'm somewhere I shouldn't be. Every little thing makes me lose my orientation. I'm struggling to speak right in this very moment.\n\n-Do... do you want me to cancel the project, then?\n\n-Yes, please. If you will.\n\n-But I invested so much money in it... even what was left of your chemo saving after you chose to quit treatment.\n\n-Whatever. Keep the phone idea if you want investors, just give up on the other thing. You have so much potential, I just don't want you to live in regret like I'm doing right now, wishing to vanish any second now...\n\n-I'm... I'm so sorry to disappoint you, Dad.\n\n-Don't worry, Son. I only remember things I rummage through my mind every day. The letters you wrote me last year, telling me you'd call today... but I barely remember your mom. I barely even remember your name\n\n-That's because you told me to hide my identity.\n\n-That's ok, the technology is ready now, I doubt it could be sabotaged. Just, please, give it up on the...\n\n-Alright, Dad. Please don't bring it up again, I won't pitch it to the investors.\n\n-Just call me on June 28, that date I remember. Tell me what I rarely heard. Tell me you love talking to me, tell me you're grateful for all I did to get you where you are. Most importantly, tell me you love me.\n\n-June 28? You mean last month? That's when I called you at the Home.\n\n-Yes, and you hung up. It's ok if you haven't seen me in five years. I was still happy to hear from you when they proposed to resuscitate me after the cancer did me in. I promise I won't get mad if you don't have an opening sentence.\n\n-It's... ok, dad. I'll call you now. I was just... thinking about you, and I wanted to hear you one last time.\n\n-You will. Just, call me then. I can go now that you called me. I am always happy when you call me. Always will be...\n\n-Bye, dad. I... I love you.\n\n-I love you too.\n\n...\n\n..\n\n.\n\n-Hello, Dad?\n\n-Hi, Miranda. How's my little girl, doing?\n\n-I'm fine... now.\n\n-Did you give up on becoming a man, already?\n\n-Haha... yeah... I just called to tell you that I love... I love you, and I appreciate everything you did... ever. You're a great dad.\n\n-Aw, you little rat... I mean, you little mouse. Whoops, trigger word! Haha. You're just saying that because I'd rather give you my savings to finish up those projects of yours than dying slowly and painfully with this... useless medicine.\n\n-Yea, that's... that's about it.\n\n-You seem awfully quiet, Mim.\n\n-I'm just... struggling to speak right in this very moment.\n\n-Don't be silly, I'll be here for a while now, you can call me anytime.\n\n-I will, dad. I will.\n\n...\n\n..\n\n.\n\nThis line is now disconnected\n\n\"I will call you anytime.\"", "\"Hi Love!\" She said, her breath a little short. She was probably walking home.\n\n\"Hi Darling.\" I said. \"Just checking up on you, wanted to see how you were doing.\" \n\n\"I've only been gone for a couple of hours, Matt, it's not like I went to Fiji or something.\" She chuckled to herself. \"I've just popped to the shops on the way back, got a couple of things for the party tomorrow.\" \n\n\"Ooh, nice. Like what?\"\n\n\"Just some crisps, drinks, stuff like that. I also got a bottle of that cider you like, because I think you drunk the last one when Alex came round, didn't you?\" \n\n\"He's around now, actually, just popped in on his way home from work.\"\n\n\"Oh no\" she gasped. \"I look like crap, Matt, can you lock him in the kitchen till I can go upstairs and get dressed up a little bit?\"\n\nI broke into a great big smile. Jess had always been a bit funny about stuff like that. Looking good was a matter of pride to her. I always thought it was a little bit silly. It wasn't like Alex was a stranger, he was the best man at our wedding. I smiled a little, remembering how wonderful that day had been. \n\n\"Nonsense Jess, you look gorgeous, like always. And Alex won't care, he's seen you in a worse state before.\" I said, smirking a little bit, remembering the last birthday party. \"However you look, it's probably better than being covered in your own sick.\"\n\nShe sighed, defeated. \"You are an infuriating man, Matt.\" She tutted and swapped her phone to the other hand. \"I can see the house now, I'm just coming in ok?\"\n\nMy face fell. For the first time in the conversation, I looked up, and looked at the door. \"Ok.\" I said, quietly. \"I'll see you in a second love.\"\n\n\"Are you ok?\" She asked, concerned. \"You don't sound right?\" \n\nI could hear her keys at the door. I felt tears start to well up in my eyes.\n\n\"I'll see you in a bit, love.\" With that, I hung up. Slamming the phone down on the table. The sound of keys stopped. I just sat there, sobbing into my arms for a solid minute, unable to control myself. Eventually, I dragged myself up from the stairs and into the kitchen, where I made myself a cup of tea. As I left the kitchen, I looked down at the phone, sitting on the bottom step. Taking a seat, I looked down at the screen.\n\n\"Repeat last call? 07**37283 25/04/2007.\" \n\nI put the tea on the stair next to me, and picked the phone up. I pressed the button, and put the phone to my hear. I had to hear her one more time, I couldn't just leave it at that.\n\nA moment of silence as the dialing tone ends.\n\n\" Hi Love!\" She said, her breath a little short from walking.\n\n\"Hi darling.\" I replied. \"Just checking up on you, wanted to see how you were doing.\"\n", "\"You look like a man with a sad story\" a women's voice said. I turned on my stool thinking of a rebuttal, my life is shit and this chick is calling me out on it. The first thing I remember thinking when I say her, 'Damn she was beautiful!' \n\n\"Wh.... what?\" was all that came out.\n\n\"I saw you walk in and have been watching you.\"\n\n\"Without sounding insensitive, why do you care?\" \n\nShe sat on the stool next to me. \"Let's just say I'm a bleeding heart.\" She never stopped staring into my eyes. The more I absorbed her the more beautiful she became. And it wasn't just her looks; something about her seemed familiar and calming. I felt almost instantly safe in her eyes. \n\n\"Well it's a long sad story. Not exactly a great thriller either.\" \n\nHer unblinking eyes did the convincing for her. I soon opened up and started from the beginning. I spilled all my secrets to her. How ever since my school years I have been a loner, picked on, ignored by my parents, a run away. I have had more days with a negative bank account than positive. How I was married, sucked dry of trust, cheated on and left with nothing. How the last three dogs I got to cope, died within the first year. How after the break up I lost all that I was, and now I am a hollow man. How when I do get what I want, it is always taken away in the most violent way possible, making obtaining nice things is a negative to me. I revealed a lot more too: relationships, deaths, violence. \n\nI didn't notice it, in fact I thought she would get up and leave when the the more morbid items spilled out, but she had put her hand on my arm. How comforting it was to feel her warmth. I stopped and looked up again at her. She was still and I could tell she was listening to every word. I looked at her and asked \"I have a lot more but there isn't enough time to tell them all\". \n\n\"I want to help you. I have listened to many people's life's story and yours seems the most dire\" She reached into her purse and pulled out a case. \"What I am giving you will make you feel better, that is if you use it correctly. There are instructions in the case on how to operate the device, but I will summarize it: Inside this case is a phone and 3 pin numbers. You use the pin number to activate the keypad and then you can use the phone, each cannot be longer than one minute calls. After all calls have been expired the phone will turn off and cannot be used again. This phone can call anyone, anytime.\"\n\n\"Oh... Well that is what phones do. I appreciate the offer but I have one\" I pulled out my Smartphone and smiled. I felt a little better as I thought she was just trying to joke around and cheer me up. Not very clever but the effort was appreciated. \n\n\"No this is not like your phone. This phone can call anyone, anytime in history. The only catch is that there has to be a phone to call them on in their timeline.\" She had a very serious face about her. \n\n'Great the first women that pays attention to me is coo-coo for coco puffs. Just my luck' I thought. \"Thanks but I am good\" I started to turn away, but she grabbed my arm. \"No, please when you have time, think about someone that you cannot talk to today, someone who would cheer you up to hear from and type their number\" she was very insistent. \"Just try it. What is there to loose?\" She got up and walked away, leaving the case behind. \n\n\"What is your name?\" I asked as she was leaving.\n\n\"You can call me Beth\" she said doing a slow half turn and turned back to walk out the door. \n\nI sat there for another hour or so drinking and fingering the outlines of the case. What a peculiar women, what a peculiar night. I paid my tab and walked home with the case. \n\nI got ready for bed and tried to fall asleep, but I laid there thinking of what Beth said to me. \"Wouldn't it be nice to talk with Kyle again? Don't be stupid; she was just playing with you. Not sure what the end goal would be though? \" I got out of bed and retrieved the case. 'Man I can't believe I'm even thinking of attempting to use it'.\n\nI picked up the phone, I pulled a card out of the lip in the lid, I entered the pin. The phone unlocked to a number pad and 14 blank spaces above it. It flashed (MM/DD/YYYY HH:MM:SS). I entered in 01/03/2004 15:00:00. The numbers I entered disappeared and it flashed (Phone Number). So far so good... I entered Kyle's number. It started to ring then someone picked up on the third ring.\n\n\"Hello?\" That voice. I know that voice!\n\n\"Hi, um... sorry to bother you. This isn't Kyle's brothers phone is it?\"\n\n\"No, this is Kyle, my brother's phone is 555-3\"\n\nI couldn't hold my excitement any longer, I interrupted \"Kyle!? Kyle Peterson?\"\n\n\"Yea?\"\n\n\"It's me Donny!\" \n\n\"You don't sound like Donny, and your number says blocked\"\n\nI had to think fast. I chose this date only because it was the first date that came to mind. \"Please listen to me. You and I were the ones that broke Mrs. Shafers car window. You ate a goldfish in the 5th grade on a dare at my sleep over. You.. you caught me looking at your older sister in the shower when I was at your sleep over. This is Donny! Listen you cannot go out tonight. Stay home; make up a story, say your sick. I can't tell you how I know, but your going to die tonight. If you ask me after this call why I called you and said this, I won't know what you are talking about, but trust me. Stay...\" \n\n\"Hello? Kyle?\" I looked at the phone \"Call Ended 1:00\"\n\nWhat felt like a burst of light hit me inside my brain, I have memories of Kyle, I have more memories of Kyle. I felt more intact." ]	4
Genders are interchangeable.	[WP] A mother starts to worry when she notices her daughter's cuts are healing.	[ "Part I\n\nEvery morning I wake up at 10:30 sharp, and reach blindly for my trusty bottle of Smirnoff vodka sitting on the bedside table. Every night after I pour the final glass required to push me to that level of inebriation where I can actually fall and stay asleep, I put it on my night stand so it'll be there in the morning for the first taste; it's like \"job security\" -- only, for an alcoholic.\n\nThe first drink of the day is always room temperature liquid, in a room temperature glass (which also rests on the bedside table), followed by a brief sigh of burnt out relief that acts as a chaser. \n\nAfter I've had my first drink, I get up from under the covers and grab my bottle, and head through my shack of a house to the kitchen. It's 10:45. My daughter Jessica has already left for school. It is November and I am all alone. \n\nAround 10:50-10:55 is the time I feel is most suitable to begin my day of intoxicated reflection. Today, my thinking lead me to realize that it's been about a year since Jessica last told me she loves me. \n\nShortly after the \"opening thoughts\", I pour the second drink. For this drink I like to use a big mug I keep in the freezer throughout the night, paired with three to four ice cubes, and sometimes (if I'm craving something sweet) a little splash of Dr. Pepper. \n\nBy the end of the second drink my thoughts are less inhibited and usually I think of my daughter/late husband, Louis. My husband took his own life about a year and a half ago, late September, after a two year stretch of being in-between jobs and feeling the financial pressures brought on by his frequent unemployment. At this point in time, I had a job and was at work on this particular day, so my daughter was the one who found his body. She was 14 at the time.\n\nFor those first few months after his death, she seemed to be coping well given the circumstances: going to therapy sessions once or twice a week, bringing her grades back up after they had taken an understandable drop, and said she wasn't grieving the loss of her father, rather, appreciating the time she'd had with him; ultimately handling the situation with an incredible level of maturity. Up until I started drinking. \n\nI was okay for the first two or three months, trying my hardest to balance caring for my daughter and trying not to think too much about losing my best friend and husband. But, when the holidays began to roll around I couldn't stop thinking of the fact that Christmas of that year, would be the first Christmas in 17 years not spent with Louis, as well as the first Christmas in 14 years not spent as a complete family. I had a mental breakdown that Christmas eve, and spent Christmas day under psychiatric evaluation, leaving the hospital on December 27th without ever really reaching base line. I was then laid off about three weeks after the start of the new year, because I was too distraught to function. \n\nEventually, since I wasn't bringing in any money, we lost the house. The house my daughter should have grown up in. The house that my previously happy little family made such loving and unforgettable memories in. It was a comfortable, cute, one story, baby blue house with a beautiful lawn, a lush garden, and a patio swing on the front porch. My favorite part of the house, though, was the backyard: a primarily brick floor space that ran to meet a sizable patch of green grass where an enormous maple tree stood, a barbecue next to the sliding glass door, a nice little set of patio furniture with a small table and chairs to eat dinner on a couple nights out of the week during the spring and summer, and during the hotter days in the summer months (when Jessica was young enough) a little blow up Tweety Bird kiddie pool or (my favorite) a Slip-n-Slide. It wasn't much, and it didn't need to be. It was ours, and we loved it all the same. A quaint little place, tucked into a peaceful neighborhood, watched over by a range of big, green, silent mountains. Respectful neighbors and plenty of children for Jess to play with. The ideal place to raise a happy child. \n\nBut, after being laid off and failing to make multiple payments on the house, the bank decided it was best to take my home away from me and my daughter, giving us no choice but to live from government check to government check, in a house I have yet to create one positive memory in. \n\nSo I sought comfort in the bottle. And, since I had no more money coming in to pay for Jess' therapy, and I certainly wasn't dealing with my emotions in a way conducive to her emotional well being, she fell completely backwards all at once. As far as I know she never touched drugs or alcohol, but her grades plummeted. She became recluse, only leaving her room to get something to eat or drink and use the bathroom, and around May I started seeing the cuts. \n \n11:30 means drink number three. \n\nThis drink is usually the last of the bottle. It isn't quite enough for me to feel anything -- usually either a quarter to half of the glass, depending how heavy I went the night before --, but I'm starting to think that I crave the taste as well as the feeling I know that taste can bring me. My freezer glass has gone room temperature as I finish my drink. I put it back in the freezer, grab my backpack, and walk to the nearby liquor store. \n\n11:50 \n\nI arrive at the liquor store and pull the same cheap handle of Smirnoff off the shelf. The workers know me and my drink of choice by now. \"Marissa! Good to see somebody around here finds what they love and sticks with it!\" I laugh and hand him the 23 dollars and twenty-seven cents. I muster a \"see you tomorrow\" and head on my way, paper bag of liquid stability in hand. \n\nI usually head around back to the alley to take a nice, hearty swig before taking the long way home so as to get in a bit of \"exercise\" and fresh air. My doctor back at the psych ward said that exercise and a little fresh air can go a long way, but so far it hasn't seemed to help me with jack shit. \n\nI take another swig and think \"you know what? fuck it. I'll take two more for good measure. Third time's the charm, right?\" before putting it in my backpack.\n\nI arrive home at around 1 o'clock after mindless meandering through neighborhoods that appear unfamiliar to me because I'm drunk. I sit on the couch and turn on the TV but don't pay attention to the picture, and I doze off for a while. \n\nI wake up at 2:30 and believe it or not, I'm hungover. You know you're messed up when you wake up from a short nap with a hangover. Lucky for me, there's a cure for that. \n\nswig.\n\nIt's 2:40 as I start to pour my next glass. At 2:45 Jessica gets home. She doesn't even look at me and heads straight to her room; might as well give myself a little extra on this one. I take a sip and head back to the couch.\n\nAs I sit, glass in hand, I stare at the TV. Like before, I don't pay attention to whatever show is playing. I just sip my glass and again I start thinking.\n\nI'm not entirely sure what lead Jessica to discover cutting as a means of dealing with her fathers passing, though she admired her father deeply; she was the classic \"Daddy's girl\". He always gave her what she wanted (within reason), coached her soccer team until she turned 11, bought her a slurpee every saturday after her soccer games, helped her with homework, and when he came home with flowers for me, he'd make sure to give her a single rose along with a special note. He adored his baby girl, and she in turn adored him.\n\nThis is the girl who found him dead. \n\n3:20 pm. Glass number five.\n\nSchool ended mid May and since Jessica had no friends to speak of, I would only see her on occasion when she would come out for meals or to use the bathroom, and days would pass where we wouldn't speak or even see each other. On a typical day, she wore long sleeved shirts to cover up the cutting, but every once in a while shed come grab something to eat wearing a short sleeved T-shirt and I could see every inch of her arms; Cut after cut after cut after cut. I remained silent on the issue, not because I didn't care, but because I figured: I have my way of dealing with this, I'll let her have hers. I had asked about it once before, and she shut down. She somehow tried denying that she even had any cuts on her arms. I told her that she couldn't deny what's in plain view, to which she snapped \"I don't question you as you pound back glass after glass. Besides, what I'm doing is none of your business, and I'll have you know: it's not nearly as detrimental to my health as what you're doing.\" After that, I decided it's a matter best left alone. \n\n3:30 I top off my glass.\n\nHalfway through that summer, Louis' parents made a visit from Iowa. They knew about our situation only as far as me losing my job and being unable to find a new one. They knew nothing of my alcoholism or Jessica's depression, so they decided to remain in Iowa, unable to help us out. Also, due to the fact I had Jessica at the ripe age of 16, Louis' father was not yet old enough to retire and move his wife and himself out to Nevada. \n\nHis parents were the only family I had left and the only family (besides Louis and I) Jessica has ever known. I was an only child and both of my parents passed away when I was in my early twenties, leaving me with the choice of either wasting away on my own, or latch on to Louis' family. Yet, despite them being the closest thing to family I had, I hadn't seen them since the January after Louis died. To be truthful, I never really made an effort to contact them. So they decided to just \"drop by\" one night, early June. \n\n3:45 glass seven.\n\n\n \n ", "\"Mom.\"\n\nChelsea stood in the doorway, a faint red line on her left arm the only remnant of her mother's attempt.\n\n\"I'm hungry.\"\n\nHer mother turned around, trembling. \"O-of course, honey. Who is it this time?\"\n\n\"Aaron Delter. He took my Twinkie yesterday.\"\n\nHer mother nodded, cold sweat running down her forehead. It seemed that the five-year-old was there to stay.", "\"I swear, Gina, kids have it so easy these days. Back when we were kids, we would have had to apply rubbing alcohol and Desitin on injuries like that for weeks at a time before they showed signs of healing, and Caroline's practically good as new in a matter of days! Neosporin sure is something, huh?\"\n\nShe was right. Just the other day my Caroline fell over a stump and cut herself up pretty badly. We were considering taking her to the ER but decided against it. Earlier today I tried to give her a bath to clean her wounds, but all that was left of her cuts were a few red streaks.\n\nThis wasn't the first time either. Last year when she insisted on helping me peel potatoes, she accidentally cut her finger with the potato peeler and blood went everywhere. That time I did bring her to the ER. I mean, she practically skinned her finger with that thing. But apparently it wasn't as bad as I initially thought, because she was in and out of there within hours and the nurses actually seemed annoyed that I had brought her there. Like, sorry I was worried about my daughter, I guess next time I'll let her finger bleed out while she cries in her room?\n\nAnyway, when I met with Rose this afternoon I told her about Caroline's speedy recovery, which led to her 30 minute rant about how we had it harder back in the day and kids these days are being spoiled with modern medicine. After she was done lecturing me about how the government is putting experimental steroids in a small amount of vaccines (which occasionally had the side effect of causing autism), I made some excuse about cooking dinner and walked home.\n\nWhich brings us to now.\n\n\"Caroline, will you come over here for a second?\"\n\n\"But mom I'm going to miss Rescue Squad and it's almost over and you promised that I could watch it and---\"\n\n\"OK I just pressed record, now I need you to come here so I can check on your cuts.\"\n\nShe reluctantly left the living room, walking slowly backwards so as to not miss a second of the intense rescue that was in progress. As soon as the T.V. was out of sight, she sprinted over to me and lifted up her pant leg so that I could see the cuts again. Except they weren't there. The lighting was a bit dim, which probably made the red marks a little harder to see, but I couldn't see anything at all. Just smooth, clear skin all the way down her leg.\n\n\"Oh good Carebear, it seems to be healing really fast!\"\n\nShe pulled her leg off the chair and sprinted back into the room to watch her show. I didn't bother rewinding it, as she was already absorbed in the show again.\n\n\"Did you clean your room like I asked Caroline?\"\n\nNo response, as usual. I swear, when she watches that show she's in a whole other world. I didn't bother asking again. I just walked upstairs to do it myself (like I would end up doing anyway, considering that she never does a good job). She had a few shirts and pairs of underwear thrown about the room, but her bed was made (she's learning!) and the rest of the room was neat for the most part. I figured I would just change her sheets now seeing as it hasn't been done for a couple of weeks.\n\nOff with the superhero sheets and on with the----\n\nWhat the fuck.\n\nPiles of skin. Piles of dead skin under the sheets. Blood and skin everywhere.\n\nWhy the fuck didn't she tell me?\n\nI frantically called Neil.\n\n\"...what do you wan---\"\n\n\"NEIL I JUST WENT UPSTAIRS AND---\"\n\nHe cut me off. \"Cut to the chase, I'm in a meeting.\"\n\n\"Caroline's shedding her skin. Experiment 127 was a success.\"" ]	3
	[WP] After eating a strange mushroom, you become irresistible to the opposite sex, write about your average day.	[ "Dear Matt,\n\nYou wouldn't believe where I am right now. I am at your house. It's 3 in the morning and I know I shouldn't be here. I only have a few minutes to explain to you why and how in the world I am at your place. I know you're with Julie right now, and she doesn't have to see this, so I beg you, please Matt, BURN this message after you read this. I know after reading this you wouldn't believe a single word. But... sigh Okay, so here goes. \n\nRemember when we were in grade school and I was your \"wingwoman\" everyone's been teasing about? That your \"wing\"woman won't be able to fly off with you cause I was damn too fat? Damn too ugly and damn too stupid for you? The point is, I was your best friend. We were always there for each other, push off each other's bullies, share each other songs and whatnot etc. You know the rest. Truth is Matt, when high school came, I thought we'd still be friends forever. Until you met Julie Andersons. She's hot, fun, smart, likable every inch of her; the total opposite of me. Since then, we started drifting apart. You veered into Julie's direction, while I continued floating away with my head turned towards you. \n\nI never stopped believing Matt. I know we were meant to be with each other. I knew that one day I'd have my time with you. \n\nSo two days ago on an afternoon, like you wouldn't believe, I was walking home and saw this beggar. The softy that I am (Yeah, I know, I should've just given him food) and that I didn't have any smaller bills, I gave him my last $100. The man stood, started talking in a foreign language, grabbed my hand and gave me 3 plastic packets of some dried up mushroom. The only English words he was able to utter was, \"Tea. Drink. Hot.\"\n\nI went home and thought, what the hell, if this was worth a hundred bucks then so be it. I drank it. Unbeknownst to me, it's damn delicious, so I decided to bring the rest with me to work tomorrow.\n\nAnd the next day at the office, everyone was staring at me. Literally every man on the office building. Like I'm some walking meat and they're the hungry wolves. Even my boss, Drake, kept eyeing my back and I heard him mutter to his breath, \"Damn!\" I didn't give them notice but it was still flattering. Even Kent, that sonofabitch, remember him from the varsity? Started following me to my cubicle and even offered me his coffee! I felt insanely beautiful. \n\nI know I sound insane as I write this, and wherever you and Julie are right now (maybe at her parent's announcing your engagement or whatever?), you should probably stay away from me because it just started to get worse..\n\nI thought that maybe it was that tea I drank yesterday. So vain that I was, I decided to boost my confidence more and ATE, yes Matt, I ATE THE DAMN MUSHROOMS. ALL OF THEM. And as soon as I walked out of my damned cubicle, every guy literally started walking towards me with their eyes hungrier and darker than before. Like they wanted to devour me. I panicked, stood, and ran towards my boss. I even heard one of them shout at the very back, \"SHE'S MINE!!\" I was panicking and clutching my boss's tie and screaming at his face, \"SIR YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!!\" But all he said was, \"Oh yes, darling, on that department, I know and have all you need.. you don't have to bring yourself to your knees.. Oh, in fact that's a nice picture, you. on. your. knees.\" He was smiling. Oh God, I was damned scared to death. I ran as fast as I could out of the building. I didn't know it would only make things worse.\n\nWhile I was hurrying like everywhere, somehow, some of my officemates remembered my address. So my apartment was already packed with hungry lust filled men, that I didn't dare go inside anymore. \n\nThe only option I had left was your place. I banged your door, screamed your name but thought better of if in case I wake up your neighbors and cause more ruckus. I hoped that maybe just maybe... you'd be immune to this and that your love for Julie will withstand even this curse or whatever it is that I have right now. After a few seconds, I just decided to use the fire staircase outside your building and climbed inside your window for a temporary escape from the world outside. That was three hours ago.\n\nI would stay and explain some more but, right now, I'm starting to doubt you're immune to this. I do not wish to ruin your relationship with Julie like I've already destroyed half the city's lives. I've had a handful or regrets lately, but this one is the worst.\n\nI'm sorry Matt, but the men outside have figured out about the emergency exit and I have to go. Just call me, maybe 2 weeks from now and I'll explain everything more in detail. \n\nIn truth, I'm not sure when this'll wear off.\n\nYours,\nLea\n\nP.S. I'm so so sorry Matt.", "How was my day yesterday? Okay so get this: This morning, I woke up to the sound of screams. Apparently one of my idiot butlers managed to let someone see the gate code, and all the crazy fanboys got into my yard! Like, literally thousands of them, okay? Yes, I'm gay, but no one wants a thousand screaming fans in their yard, first thing in the morning. So I wake up a whole twenty minutes early, and it's nothing but \"We love you, Jake!\" and \"Marry me, Jake!\" Same old shit as always, but it was extra irritating today of course. How could I be expected to be in a good mood after only 9 hours and 40 minutes of sleep? That's, like, cruel and unusual punishment!\n\nSo I drag myself out of bed - on my own, mind you, since everyone else in the house is busy barricading doors and windows, ugh, and I open my bedroom window. Big mistake. My ears are still ringing. So I raise up my hands like the goddamn Pope, and the whole crowd gets all quiet.\n\n\"Shut the fuck up.\" I say. Second mistake. Of course it's all \"OMG Jake talked to me!\" and \"Aaahh, I just saw Jake in person!\" And I'm just thinking, yep. This is it. This is what hell feels like. It takes forever, but the police finally show up and start tear gassing. About time, don't they know who I am? I didn't get to be the most attractive man in the world by getting only 9 hours and 40 minutes of beauty sleep, ya feel me?\n\nAnd finally I'm just like, you know what? Screw it. I'm gonna go for a hike in the woods today, just to get away from the mob for a while. So it's like late evening, and my bodyguards are carrying me back down the trail in my covered chair, and there's this old hag standing in the middle of the path, and she's like, 3,000 years old. All ancient and wrinkly and shit. Gross. So I tell her to move, and she says she won't until I do her a favor. And I'm like, way tired, y'know? It's almost bedtime already, and now I've had to look at an old person. And I'm just like, fine whatever, what's your stupid favor?\n\n...and she hands me some weird mushroom.", "Another hike through the woods; off the streets, within the beaten paths. Always the road less traveled. Not because I want to succeed where Robert Frost didn't. Not because I want to explore and discover the unknown. No, none of that even appeals to me anymore. It's just my way of life now. The way I live. The way I have to live. It's funny. In a dark, horrific kind of way. That one beaten path led to infinite more. But...it wasn't always like this. \n \n...I had a girlfriend once. She was amazing. Intelligent, beautiful, had the same ridiculous sense of humor as me. She always encouraged me to succeed, try new things, grow. Even the small things, like urging me to get more fresh air or sun because it was healthy. Continuously keeping others in mind, namely me. One day, an adventure through the nearby woods I never even thought to explore, at her suggestion of course. A pleasant, memorable stroll. Autumn. Picturesque. Vibrant colors surrounded us, like a rainbow wrapping us together and raining all around. Foraging? I never even considered it. Berries, mushrooms, certain plants; all edible, she claimed. An interestingly new dinner full of flavors, she promised. One just for me. As we returned, the orange light lit our path, and we held hands. All the way back to my place. \n \nA twig snapping in the distance. An animal? Hopefully. No. More cracking. Sprinting through leaves. Two legs. I've come to be able to tell the difference. Climb quickly. Get high enough so my scent will dissipate in the breeze. Get the spray from my backpack. Apply it to myself and my surroundings. The air, as well. Always, always the air. Never forget about the air. Listen. Listen for the movement. Wait for it to die down. Don't leave until an hour or two after it dies down. Don't make that mistake again. Wait. Wait. Wait.\n \n...The smells of that night were divine, and I couldn't wait to dig in. Somehow the concoction she came up with utilizing our found ingredients and a few spices invigorated my hunger to an almost-drool. In fact, I might have actually drooled and wiped it away before it fell. I sat. She served. The taste rivaled the aroma. I urged her to join me. She insisted I eat to my heart, and stomach's, content, saying that my satisfaction and happiness were enough for her that night. So, I ate, and ate, and ate, until there was nothing left. Possibly the most delightful home-cooked meal I had in some time, made all the better because of who made it. She really was...something else. She didn't want to be repaid in the slightest. Time and time again, showing how selfless she really was...is. Is. She still is, somewhere, for someone. I hope. After that meal, I asked her to stay over for the night. It would be our first real night together. I was excited, to say the least, and could hardly wait. I'm sure she felt the same. \n \nThree hours. Should be enough time. One last look around, peering through endless branches, seas of leaves. Never feel like you're being too cautious. There is no such thing anymore. Seems clear enough. A quiet descent, all while keeping a lookout. Unfamiliar forests are always the same. Haha, how interesting an oxymoron. Keep going. Always, keep going. Nightfall soon. Find a better tree. A better bed. Up ahead, almost hammock-like. High enough? Yes, definitel-wait, never definitely. High enough? Yes, seems to be. Climb, and fast; always fast, can never be slow or out of practice. Change my shirt, it's been enough time. Stains are too haunting anyway. Spray; always spray, myself, the area, the air. Always the air. Backpacks are the best pillows. Enjoy the breeze. Enjoy the sunset. The bloody sky. That orange light. \n \n...It was a night I'll never forget. Emotionally. Intimately. I had never been with someone like her. And it was...incredible, to say the least. I was surprised, because she almost didn't tire, didn't want to stop. Almost robotic, possessed, overtaken by her urges. I could only bear so much though, and knew she needed to sleep and wake up early anyway. We fell asleep in each other's arms, and I blissfully counted sheep that had her face on them; she really was haunting my thoughts, my mind, in the best way imaginable. So we slept. Or at least, I slept. I dreamt of the ocean, wavy fields of grain rustling in the wind, the sun's heat beating down on my not-so-pale-anymore skin. I dreamt of her, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, laying with me in that ocean, on those fields. I dreamt of holding her in my arms as her breath subtly caressed my neck. Then I dreamt of her, and the night we just experienced; her near-insatiable lust combined with her sweet and loving nature, like a tornado of emotion and thought whirling together, almost unable to combine. Then I woke up. \n \nFootsteps. Keep calm. Don't shoot awake like last time. Control. Listen carefully. Listen. Two? No. No. Four. Slow. Listen, look, slowly. Scan the area. Carefully, not missing a single blade of grass or outline. There! Only a bear. Mid-sized, a cub nearby. That was no growl. That was her stomach. Hunger. I know the feeling; I definitely know that feeling. Must be desperate. Cub seems sluggish. They won't come too close. Re-apply the scent. Nothing comes near to this scent. Horrible, potent, deters the...wildest...of beasts. She turned. Foraging. Escaping the light of dawn, looking for honey, berries, anything. Can't find if you're blind. That rhymed. Haha. Wait until she stomps away. Cub getting impatient, almost ravaging its mother. They'll be on their way. Poor cub. Poor mother. They just want to eat. \n \n...She was on top of me, kissing me. Slowly, lightly, but rampantly. Rubbing my eyes, thinking it was still a dream, I asked her what she was doing. No answer. Still kissing. Almost hard. Then hard. Almost biting. I was confused. This wasn't her. This wasn't her at all. I asked her again. No response. I noticed my skin, with red blotches, as if she had been doing it awhile, as if through the night. Bed covers and sheets everywhere, much more disheveled and distraught than the night before. Harder. Biting harder. This wasn't her. She couldn't even hear me. She was so focused on my body. Kissing, biting, licking, smelling; almost like a dog. I grabbed her arms. She fought. I let go, but she started rubbing me, clawing me, gnawing me. She tried to hold my arms, but I overpowered her and held hers again. Lightly pushing her off, I yelled at her, trying to snap her back to reality. No response. Never a response. I ran to the bathroom, locking it behind me. She banged, scratched, pushed. Endlessly. Endlessly. Thirty minutes later, a thud on the door. In tears, I opened it. Her body fell slightly forward into the bathroom, her nails and hands in shambles, bleeding. She had passed out from exhaustion, never stopping her attempts to get to me. I panicked. Police? Hospital? What would they do to her? What would they do to me? No. Pack up what I can, and run. Run. Have to run. Have to move on. \n \nThe bear finally pushed on with its cub. I hope it finds a nice, savory meal. What a magnificent creature. Time to get moving again. Survey the area. Look closely, carefully. Enjoy the view, if possible. Always the same viewpoint. Climb slowly, fluidly. Don't forget to watch the area in the descent. Always listen, look, while leaving. Back on the path. Well, not a real path. I make my own paths now. Never thought I'd end up being so outdoorsy. Guess I owe it all to her, after all..." ]	3
pick your superpower and describe the last 24 hours of your llife	[WP] a disease has been discovered that gives the victim a superpower for 24 hours before the victim dies, you have contracted the disease.	[ "Just for tonight he would tell himself, just one more night and he would keep his promise tomorrow, but he never did. And now the next twenty-four hours would likely hold him to his word - he'd never fuck another woman again. \n\nChris Kennedy sat perched upon the doctor's examination table swinging his legs and clutching at the crook of his elbow. She was only gone for fifteen minutes but it still burned, everything burned now. Every time he ignited a fag with the flames he conjured from his palm the warts on his balls would cause him to claw and scratch. Every time he took a piss it would burn from his abdomen to the tip of his cock but it was a small price for the power of telekinesis. \n\nHe was finding with every passing moment he discovered another symptom as well as another superpower. By now he was at five and counting. Any other person in his situation would be thinking of the opportunities of having superpowers but all he could think of was sex, all he could ever think of is sex. He tried to justify the intrusive thoughts, he should just get the fuck outta here he told himself, there was no point in trying to fight his addiction anymore, he'd be dead before the dawn. The idea of leaving was too appealing to him but before he could the doctor had returned red face and flustered. \n\n'Your blood tests are back.' she said organising the dossiers in her hand.\n\n'What did they say, do they know what it is?'\n\n'I don't know how to tell you this but - no.'\n\n'No? What do you mean ‘no’?'\n\n'We've never seen anything like this before, it behaves like a virus but it’s not. The disease converts the viral RNA into DNA. This DNA then is transported to the cell’s nucleus and the human DNA, your DNA, is replaced by the virus’s. But what’s interesting about it is the virus is carrying what I can only describe as humanoid molecules and replacing your DNA with it. ‘ \n\n‘I don’t get it, what do you mean?’\n\n‘Chris, the virus is replacing your DNA with other people’s DNA.’\n\n‘What the hell? How? It can’t be.’\n\n‘I’m afraid so. From the samples we have the majority of DNA that the virus is carrying is human but five of the samples we took they’re, they’re….’\n\n‘They’re, what?’\n\n‘They’re from silicon-based life forms, Chris, they’re not human.’\n\nChris looked on bewildered his face stunned with disbelief he began to shake his head ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that I’ve caught an alien STD?’\n\n‘For lack of a better word, Yes. The next step we need to do is contact your sexual partners anyone one of them could be carrying the virus and their sexual partners may have it also. If they have developed superpowers they’re at risk of being a danger to the public, I can only imagine the chaos super strength and invisibility can cause. And Karen, I would like to speak with her. In the meantime I would like you to abstain from sex.\n\n‘Why do you want to speak with Karen?’\n\n‘You said your girlfriend was the last person you slept with before developing symptoms.’\n\n‘Karen’s not my Girlfriend.’\n\n‘Who is she?’\n\n‘A prostitute.’ \n", "The Chemist sat on his chair, pouring two solutions into a larger container. The liquids hissed and steamed, but the man was unfazed, utterly confident in what he was doing. His assistant, stood beside him, looking nervous but unafraid.\n\nThe liquids stopped hissing. The assistant immediately turned on the burner to keep it warm. After a few minutes, the liquid turned into a strange green color. The Chemist lifted the container, closely examining it. He put it back down with an air of finality.\n\n\"There, it is done,\" he said. \"The new drug should be ready.\"\n\n\"That's great sir!\" The assistant cheered. \"You still have a chance to live!\"\n\nHer boss shook his head. \"It's already too late for me Mary, the disease has gotten to the point where it can no longer be cured. It's now up to you to prepare the research paper and publish our discovery in a journal.\"\n\nHis voice had an air of weariness, as if he had already given up.\n\nMary also shook her head. \"Sir, are you just going to give up like that?! I can't...this isn't...\" Tears started streaming down her eyes. \"I won't allow that to happen! Surely the drug would at least delay your death!\" The stack of papers in her hand had started to crumple.\n\nThe Chemist chuckled. \"My super intelligence tells me that you are wrong. Do take good care of our notes, my dear assistant, or else you'd have to start from scratch all over again.\"\n\n\"This isn't the time to be joking around!\"\n\nBut he just patted her on the head, Mary was crying openly now. \"I know that my time is already up, Mary. It's time for you to take my place. And your boyfriend is an IT specialist, is he not? Why don't you ask him for help in disseminating information?\"\n\nMary stifled a sniff and rubbed her eyes. \"Yes, but you still have so much time on you sir! You can't die yet, the company still needs you!\"\n\nThe Chemist face was somber, and a tear rolled down his cheek. \"I don't want to die yet Mary, but fate has dictated that I must. At the very least I have accomplished something that the world will remember me for.\"\n\nBefore Mary could reply, he had already left the room.\n\nThe next day, the Chemist's wife called her, saying that he had died with a smile on his face, and that his last words were to congratulate Mary on her stellar research on the new drug. The wife asked Mary if she would fulfill the task her former boss had asked of her, and she promised that she would.\n\nMary sat down at the head scientist's desk, her desk now, after she was promoted. Opening her computer, she began to type the first lines of the joint research between her and the Chemist. The tears were dry now, but the sadness was still there, and the promise that she made both to the Chemist and his wife was also there.\n\nAnd it was a promise that she intended to complete.", "\"Nick wake up! Wake the fuck up!\"\n\nHe was throwing tennis balls at my for some god awful reason.\n\n\"What do you want Logan? It's 6:30 in the morning.\"\n\n\"Yes and you're floating out of the loft!\"\n\nI open my eyes to find myself staring at the black mark on the ceiling of our condo that I made by throwing a pen at the roof. I though I was still dreaming. But then all of a sudden it hits me that I'm not, and I fall to the ground with a tremendous thud.\n\n\"Oh shit are you okay?!\" Logan said.\n\n\"I just fell 15 feet onto the floor, I'm more concerned with the downstairs neighbor.\"\n\n\"R.I.P. downstairs neighbor.\" We both snicker as we match each others words.\n\n\"Nick I think we should get you to the hospital\"\n \n\"Why do you say that?\"\n\n\"You have the mark....\"\n\nI didn't even have to look. I knew what he meant. I have less then 24 hours to live.\n\nWe rush to emergency room. Logan rams through the door yelling for someone to help me. I love the kid to death like a brother, but god damn he's embarrassing. Like I know I'm already going to die, we are just here to find out how long I have.\n\nThe nurse points to the line of other illmans. The the word created for ill super humans. There are five others ahead of us, all with marks much bigger than mine. A girl with a rag over her eyes, laser vision. A young boy, who was flickering like a light, no fucking clue what that means. Twins, one with with smoke coming off his hands and the other with icicles everywhere. Thats ironic. and finally a girl who looked my age, and she was floating.\n\nThe odds of having someone with the same powers as you and finding each other are pretty small according to some Harvard studies.\n\nAt this point I have made up my mind, I don't wanna wait to find out how long until I die. I walk up to the girl and ask probably the stupidest question ever.\n\n\"Want to fly to Hawaii with me?\"\n\nShe laughed, I knew that would happen.\n\n\"Fuck it! I've only got 18 hours left.\"\n\nThough one last thought came into my head. I have to say goodbye to my best friend... my brother. I knew it wouldn't be easy. But i knew it would end with an embrace and a corny joke. That is exactly how it went.\n\n\"You know I wouldn't want to go out sitting in a hospital right bro?\"\n\n\"Yeah I figured you had a plan. What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"I'm flying to Hawaii with that girl over there.\"\n\n\"Oh, well I didn't see that coming. I'm really going to miss you man.\" We embrace. \"And remember Nick, use protection and don't forget to take your belt off when you go through security.\"\n\nI smack him on the head and turn to leave. I figure what would one last look back hurt. As I turn I see a bright light glowing. It's Logan. I see the mark growing rapidly, consuming his arm like a swarm of ants. He's going supernova. This only happens to one in 100 million people. He knew it was happening too, and so did everyone else. But, even in this moment our humor prevailed.\n\n\"I guess I will be seeing you sooner than we thought.\" He smirked.\n\n\"Fuck y........\"", "The light flashed green. My face, previously displaying a bored expression grew pale and frightened. The man sitting in front of me, looked at me sadly, and said something. It didn't matter, I couldn't hear him. I turned, and began to walked out of the door with a depressed air about me. A moment later, the worker came up to me and said something else, his eyes bright. Was he making fun of me? I'm sure he was. I tuned him out, not bothering to listen to his jabs. In a daze, I returned home, and crashed onto my bed. I had less than 24 hours to live.\n\nI woke up, and realized that it was the next day. Two hours left. I decided to accept my death. One hour. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. \n\nI didn't die. I laughed. Looks like I was immortal." ]	4
	[WP] A young couple is caught in a time loop. After years of building a successful career and raising kids, time reset itself. This is the story of their twentieth loop.	[ "\"Goddammit.\" I say as I feel the rip of time reverse me back to where it always begins. \n\n The familiar sensation of being ripped in two while simultaneously feeling like I'm being squeezed into a space the size of a golf hole passes. A mere nuisance now. In the beginning, I flipped my shit -- to be crude about it. I screamed. I cried. I prayed to any and every deity that might answer my prayer. I think I may have even called out to Satan himself.\n\nThere was no answer. Only silence. I am alone. \n\n\"Shit.” I whisper. \n\nNo, this is more like, \"FUCK!” It echoes in the empty dorm room I'm now standing in. I look around and see the familiar things that I've seen for eternity. My bed is made up. The psychology articles are strewn across my desk in a chaotic organized way that only makes sense to me. I hear the familiar hum of the mini fridge my parents bought me my freshman year. \n\n\"Fuck.\" I say again moving towards the window,. \"I'm going to have to repeat this last goddamn year of college again.\" \n\nI look out the window, angry at the very existence of every being who ever existed. Yes. Angry. I am angry. This is the twentieth fucking time I've made it back to this spot and nothing has changed. I thought with that last incarnation…\n\n\"Well,\" speaking to the objects in my room who are all probably just as weary of seeing me pop back here as I am, “at least I won’t have to study so hard this time. Eh?” I throw myself onto the neatly made bed. Time travel. It’s a bitch. \n\nI should probably try and find Max. My demeanor softens. Twenty go arounds aren’t bad when you have Max by your side. \n\n“Asshole.” I say with a smirk staring at nothing still. No matter how many times we do this thing, he always finds me first. Somehow, he just knows where I’ll be. And I’m there, with a smile, waiting for his next sarcastic remark. I chuckle softly thinking of the next bad pun he’ll have for me on our twentieth of, well, whatever this is. Something groan worthy no doubt. I'm no good with jokes. \n\n“Max,” I say to myself, “what will number twenty bring us?.” \n\nWe are a conventional couple in every sense. You know, except for the whole time loop thing. We had the whole package. House. White picket fence. Dog. The two point five children. Stellar careers. We, well, I—as Max or anybody else for that matter has no friggen clue--been through this life for over 200 years, give or take. I tried not to be together in a few of the loops. You know, tried the whole, “Maybe if I do something different, this loop will end,” sort of thing. \n\nNope. God, Buddha, the creator, or what the fuck ever, wants us together. FOREVER. It's probably every little girls dream to end up with your soulmate for eternity. Fucking airheads if you ask me. Still…\n\nA smile creeps across my face. I close my eyes. “He truly loves me,” I say out loud to myself. What will our twentieth go bring us indeed? \n\nPain. Lots. Of. Pain. \n\nI can't move. Why can't I move? The room is dark, so I know I must have fallen asleep for a few hours at least. \n\n“Max!” I cry out. It's a habit. \n\nFuck. Why can't I move?! Why does this hurt so fucking much? \n\n“Hello Connie.” \n\nI freeze. (That was a joke. See, I'm no good with jokes.)\n\n“Max?” I say still speaking to the ceiling. \n\n“In the flesh.”\n\n“What's happening? Why can't I move?”\n\n“Does it hurt Connie?”, he says with mock sincerity in his voice. \n\n“Max, what---“\n\nMore pain. I scream. Enough for the pimply guy who lives across the hall who's always asking for “study” help to hear. No one comes…why doesn't someone come? \n\n“No one is coming Connie. No one knows you exist. Just me. No more time jumping for you..”, he smiles. Chuckles a little. “ Or for me. It's better this way. I'm glad to be honest.” \n\nHow does he know? I thought he didn't know.\n\n “Max,” I whimper. \n\n“My dear, dear Connie.” My pain is gone now, though I am still unable to move. \n\n“Sorry about the pain sweetheart. Not part of protocol, but, it makes things a little interesting. My job gets so tedious sometimes.” Even now, I still hope that this is all a joke and that he'll become my Max again. Yes. This is a dream and in a few seconds I'll wake up and there will be Max. Ready with a kiss and an ‘I love you.’\n\n“Don't have to eat your terrible cooking anymore. The agency is finally pulling me in.” I hear some clicking sounds and some rustling. What fuck is going on here already?! \n\n“Finally. Finally. I get to live the life I want. No more babysitting!” I could hear the glee in his voice, imagine the twinkle in his eyes he gets when he is extremely happy. Why am I remembering this bullshit now. God. Get it together woman. \n\nI hear more rustling and the scraping of a chair. Hear his footsteps walking towards the bed I'm still lying frozen on. He stops. I see his face come into view above me. \n\n“Any last words Constance?”\n\nI let out a feeble unintelligible “Mew..” and then things go black.\n", "Third day of loop twenty...\n\n\nWe cock our guns, and give a nod. After the first couple of loops we committed the entire plan to memory. \nFrom behind the corner she shoots the camera, and I get the security guard. We are like clockwork. She splits off to take care of the security guard who would just now be getting back to the cameras. I punch in the code to the vault. It never changes.\n\n\nI don't even bother with the cash. Hacksawing through boxes 1005, 1448 and 2663 is enough. \n\n\nWe know it is wrong to steal but this was just the best way to start our loops.\n\n\n_________\n\n\nFourty-fifth day of loop twenty...\n\n\nNo one ever figures out the bank heist--and we sold the goods within the week. After that--Mary figured out and committed to memory a decent investment plan and we end up becoming multi-millionaires in the first couple of months. This is a good start. I've been in the lab non-stop. I've written these books a hundred times over. Tinkering with nearly 2000 years of scientific experience... Publish. We'll see where the world goes this time.\n\n\nWe stopped trying to have kids right off the bat... It was too heartbreaking for Mary. We could never get the same kids...Only after we raised them and they left did time reset. To her, it was like they died every time we reset. \n\n__________\nSeven-hundredth day of loop twenty.\n\nI'm the most famous scientist in the world. Married to the most successful entrepreneur in the world. We're a killer combo. The hardest part of changing the world isn't making incredible inventions or giving away a lot of money. But it was trying to change things faster than other people would allow. People always start of the loops with pretty dumb ideas. But after a little finagling this is about the days it starts to get easier. Also when things can get unpredictably amazing. It is was like the whole world was our kid to raise.\n\n_________\n\nOne hundred eighty-two thousandth day of loop twenty.\n\nThe view of the new planet was nice. Mary was in the lab doing something...\nShe called me down to see. I hadn't seen her in a while. The ship was big, and we enjoyed doing our own things every now and then. \n\n\nI recognized the devices she made instantly. It was a set of cloning pods. In them was forming two small bodies.\n \n\n\"I think it is time to reset.\" She said.\n\n\nI didn't disagree. I had some new ideas. I think I could make the earth warp capable in the first year. That could be an achievement. \n\n\n\"Any ideas of what you want to do next time around...?\"\n\n\nWe stood there. In our perfect machine body we made. \"Maybe... Maybe we just don't do anything. Live like we did in the first couple of loops...\"\n\n\nWithin a microsecond, It ticked in my mind after millions of possible scenarios played in my positronic mind. I had always worried she didn't fully appreciate the loop. \n\n\nI didn't want to waste this future. I tried to activate it. The killswitch. It... Didn't work. It was my Mary. She was smart. Of course she disabled it.\n\n\nIn the blink of an eye. Some how I was dead.\n_____________\n\n\nFirst day of loop six hundred.\n\n\nShe's just too fast; I can't stop her in time before she brains me with that damn nightlight... This is hell... She wastes away her lives. For what? To raise kids...? \n\n\n____________\n\nFirst day of loop maybe... A thousand something?\n\nI can't reason fast enough. This is hell. I know she raises more kids, and just resets. I know it will go on for eternity. Hopefully she'll learn eventually. I just need to keep my sanity intact long enough until she changes her mind. \n\n_________________________________\n\n\nFirst day of loop -- I've lost track entirely.\n\n\nI'm not dead yet...\n\n\n\"Mary?\" \n\n\n\"There is no Mary anymore.\" She says. Too me, it was only a couple of hours of getting bashed to death. But to her it could have been millions of years. \n\n\nI turn on the lights slowly. Prepared for anything she could do... She was sitting up next to me in the bed. \n\n\n\"I've raised so many children...\"\n\n\nWhat a waste I murmur. A mistake that might have cost me another thousand years of brain bashing. But she was sedentary this time. I saw it as my chance to take control of the loops. But... It was impossible. After the first couple of hits I tried to land.... She broke my collar bones with a few swift strikes. It was her loop once again.\n\n\n\n\"Go ahead. Take it. Waste away another loop. I'll be back when you succumb to that weakness. You just can't resist, can you? Breeding is so futile. We could live as gods with what we can do. Really discover things about this universe--maybe what is beyond it.\" I say. It was such a relief to finally be able to say...\n\nI think for a moment of how much we've changed. How much she changed. \n\n\n\nShe replied, \"The twentieth loop made me realize how much we change overtime. watching all my children grow. How everything can be so different so fast. I've had so much time to think. It is time I stopped thinking.\"\n\n\n\"So then go kill yourself. Take comfort in the fact that I won't waste the cycles like you have for however long you've lived without me. I won't start another loop--that is a promise.\" \n\n\n\"No. I decided in the moment after first time you tried to kill me and our children--you aren't the man I once believed in. You're not the type of man who deserves to live as a god. After I kill you. I will kill myself. We will see if the cycle repeats or not. We've had the world, and it is time we give the world back. \" \n\n\nMy last death was quick, and the end of it all. ", "I smile at Mary as I hold her hand while the time vortex rips us back through time yet again.\n\nShe doesn't smile back. I'm pretty sure she's growing tired of this endless cycle.\n\nThe two-decade-long time vortex comes to an end and my body reshapes to its previous state, 24 again... I give a happy sigh, glad I'm out of that timeline, adopting that 'cute' kid had been a mistake, but at least getting into the specific industry for Sandwich production had been a surprisingly successful -if boring- career option.\n\nAs we reappear back in our rented apartment we nod to each other. Knowing what to do.\n\nBefore we decide on what we do, we make notes recollecting our experiences, what to avoid and possible opportunity's to exploit in this run.\n\n\nI grab a notepad and begin to scrawl down my notes.\n\n'Avoid:\nGavin for adoption,\nBetting on England, for any sport for the next 18 years,\nTrying to move to America AGAIN. '\n\n\nI stared at my short notes and hmmed, I couldn't think of any ideas, Mary usually has some good ones. We've got exactly a week and three days before our Landlord goes into his drunken fit in Spain and ends up evicting everyone without explanation.\n\nI avoid the mistake of petting the cat as I go to make coffee - I know it's in a bad mood this morning from the first three time-loops. Still trying to figure out why or how to calm it down.\n\n\nHalf way threw putting on the brew Mary walks in with her own notes and she sighs.\n\n\"Look... I want to try something... very different this time. Robert has been looking more attractive every run, every loop his marriage just looks so happy and after all these resets, I know how to make him happy... I want us to be split up on this run.\"\n\nI stare at her in surprise, we'd had a big argument 6 cycles ago, but we'd only really niggled at most since then. Either way she continued.\n\n\"I know my friend Beth is going to split up from her boyfriend in 4 days and she'll need someone there for her... and well... she's pretty and you know she'll be a successful accountant, so you could go for her...\"\n\nWe both remained silent for several long, awkward minutes, before I slowly nodded. I suppose the 400 years of the same guy can get boring, no matter how good a fit we were. I reply calmly and keep my face neutral.\n\n\"I guess we can try it out... if it doesn't work out, we'll be back together in 20 years anyway.\"\n\n\nWe calmly make our plans, it's a little awkward, working out how to best plan the next 20 years of our lives around a person who hasn't been involved in the same time-travel for 380 years... but we work it out.\n\nAbusing our knowledge of the future, we both easily get our partners and have successful careers within a year. We remain in contact of course, usually on advise on 'how next week is going to go if I do X'.\n\nIt's clear within 10 years we're unhappy, our partners don't have the same knowledge we do, and while we have such ample experience on how to make our friends of over 320 years happy (we'd lost contact in a few of the time-loops), they're not as clued up as us and worse of all... they wanted kids, they haven't experienced it as many times as we have, and they also don't know that we won't ever see those kids mature past their teens at best, and we have no way of knowing how they'll grow up past that, and the fact they disappear after that is... still heartbreaking.\n\nI end up ceding and having a child with Beth, Mary refuses and it eventually leads to the downfall of her relationship. Since I'm with Beth, I can't spend much time with Mary... especially now she's single, it'd be too suspicious... however I see Mary is getting depressed.\n\nThen a year before the time loop, actually on my birthday at 43 the worse happens... she commits suicide. This is something we've both agreed never to do, because we don't know how it effects our interaction with the time-loop.\n\nI spend the next year nervous and anxious, I put on a good front though, nobody in this time-cycle notices the difference.\n\nThe day before time resets, I do my best to calmly explain to Beth as best I can what's going to happen, and that I love her and will remember our time together always. Of course she doesn't understand.\n\nBut she cares about me, and is worried what I'm going to do. The next day she follows me as I drive out to the park where I know the vortex will happen.\nI'm glad she's this concerned but I warn her to stay back, I don't want her getting stuck in the time-loop too.\n\nShe doesn't listen though. As time opens up and does its best to correct its mistake -me- by ripping me forcefully from where I stood into its maw, Beth dives in and grabs my wrist at the last second.\n\nI yell at her to stop - our child who me and Mary had tried to pull back was ripped to shreds. But it was too late, she was pulled back with me through time.\nI shut my eyes tight, not wanting to see her cease to exist.\n\nI slowly open my eyes as I hear my cat meow for attention, I see myself... 24 again, I look over to where Mary will be and instead a very confused Beth. In confusion I look at the clock... right time, right date... we're back alright. But where's Mar-\n\nI look at the picture on the wall and rather than seeing me, the cat abd Mary... Beth is in her place. I check my phones contacts... No Mary.\n\n\nI turn to face the panicked Beth and can't think of anything to do but sigh.\n\nThis is going to take at least 20 years to explain... luckily I have that and many others after that..." ]	3
	[WP] "You don't mind that I'm not...all there?"	[ "\"Listen, Ollie...\" The voice on the other end replied. \"I love you, man, I do. You're my most valuable 'player' by far, ok?\" \n \n\"Aww, thanks, Reg.\" Oliver spoke in meandering, sarcastic tone as he dropped his luggage by the front of the door and went exploring. \n \n\"It's the truth. But, buddy, you haven't given me anything in three years. People are gonna start forgetting you exist. Normally, I'd say it's good for people to call a horror writer a 'ghost', but, in your case, it's not doin' you any good.\" Reggie responded, his voice trying to be calm and enthusiastic. \n \nOliver groaned, running his fingers across an old, dusty mantle. \"I'm not in charge of the ideas, Reg. They're in charge of me. If they don't come, they don't come.\" He continued tracing up the wall, above the mantle, feeling a seam and following it. \n \n\"Right, I get it. You're a tortured artist waiting to be swept away by spooky ethereal whatever.\" Reggie sighed through the earpiece. \"Buying you that house is the last advance the publisher is gonna give you. You know that, right? This is it, man. I know it sucks, but...you've gotta put something on the table. Make me some green, Ollie.\" \n \nOliver rested his forehead against the dusty wall above the fireplace mantle, his breath lifting up a cloud of musty, dirty air. \"I know, Reg. But, the key is here, I know it. This place...they say it talks to you. Thoreau had Walden. For me it's Primrose Estate.\" \n \nReggie chuckled. \"Yeah, I've heard the stories. Pretty creepy. Whatever works; if I see a manuscript out of this, I'll kiss any apparition or spook that inspired you. Tongue, no tongue, their choice. Ok?\" \n \nOliver laughed, as he began to peel away the wall above the mantle, following the seam. \n \n\"I'm serious, man. I will go to town. Just get me something I can sell the publisher on.\" \n \n\"If there are any romantic spooks in this house, they're mine.\" Oliver said, laughing. \"The publisher can kiss my-\" Oliver gasped audibly, eyes widened. \n \n\"What? Ollie? What happened?\" \n \nOliver breathed deeply, his eyes unable to stray from the sight. A faded, small portrait of a young woman hidden behind the wall, strawberry blonde in a bright yellow dress. \"I gotta go, Reg.\" Oliver whispered. \n \n\"Ollie? You're freakin' me out, buddy.\" \n \n\"It-it's her.\" Oliver spoke breathlessly. \"Saffron Finch. She's here. It's true. The stories...they have to be true.\" He felt himself start breathing faster as thoughts surged through his mind. He held his head in his hands and nearly fell backward. \"I-I've gotta-\" \n \nReggie grinned. Oliver hadn't sounded like that since he pitched his last best-seller. It was going to work after all. This stupid haunted-house-Halloween retreat was going to work. Somehow, Oliver was going to pull it off. \"I know that voice. I love that voice! That's my buddy!\" \n \nOliver laughed, hands covering his mouth. \"It's coming, I know it is. It's her. She wants me to tell her story. Oh! Yes!\" Oliver opened his arms wide as he knelt down on the dusty wood floor. \n \nReggie laughed. \n \n\"Reg, I gotta call you back. I've got work to do!\" \n \n\"Go Ollie go!\" \n \n*** \n \nOliver had pushed a small desk in front of the empty living room, facing the fireplace and that portrait, which was now cleaned and full of vibrant color. \n \nHe hammered away on his old Smith-Corona, the rythmic clacking like the morse code of his imagination calling out to the world. He hummed absently as he alternated between sips of coffee, stares at the portrait, and mashing at the keys. \n \nIn fact, he'd been at it for so long that the first indication he'd had that it was night-time was that he could no longer read the paper. It was then that he remembered... \n \n\"You haven't eaten anything all day...\" A soft, soothing, delicate voice with a hint of concern came from behind. \n \nOliver fell out of his chair, flopping helplessly on the ground in an attempt to right himself after hearing the voice. \"Who-who's?\" \n \n\"Like you don't know.\" The voice, gentle as before came from behind him. No matter where he looked, always behind. \n \n\"If you're a creepy fan, or-or something. Listen, I've read 'Misery' ok? That's not gonna happen and you-\" Oliver was tense and worried, failing to find the strength and conviction that he gave to the written word. \n \n\"Misery?\" The voice was almost a giggle, melodious. \"Goodness, no, Mister. Why would I want you to be miserable?\" \n \n\"B-because you're a deranged lunatic?\" \n \nOliver thought he heard the whole house sigh before the voice began again. \"You're the first gentleman caller I've ever had.\" \n \n\"Ok, you're really not straying from my preconceptions so far.\" \n \n\"I've had my cotillion, you know.\" \n \n\"Listen!\" Oliver was grasping for sanity at this point, worried he was already losing it; thinking the house was talking to him. \n \n\"Yes, Sir. Alright. It's just that...\" Her voice trailed off, defeated and hesitant. Oliver regretted his outburst. \n \n\"Just what?\" Oliver kept his voice calm and controlled as he stood and smoothed his clothes. \n \n\"Well, just seein' as you keep lookin' at my portrait, I figured you were...\" \n \nOliver cleared his throat, biting his lower lip as he spun around the room looking for the source of the voice. \"I was what? Is this some kind of trick? I'll call the police, I-wait...your portrait?\" \n \n\"Oh yes, Sir. You pulled it out and cleaned it off and everything. It was frightful dark and lonely there until then.\" \n \n\"You-you're Saffron Finch?\" \n \n\"Of the Carolina Finches, of course. Who else would I be?\" She giggled. \"I heard you mention my name earlier. That's why I figured you'd come to call.\" \n \n\"Ok...\" Oliver tried his best to keep his breathing in check, speaking to an empty house, or the portrait, and hearing a voice come at him in all directions. \"Let's say I believe you. \\-\\-Where are you?\" \n \nSilence. \n \n\"I-I don't know. I haven't tried to see myself.\" Her voice sounded hopeless again. Oliver thought he heard the echoes of pitiful sobbing. \n \nOliver suddenly felt compelled, more than anything, to make her feel better. \"This is your house, right?\" He tried to reason with her a bit. \"What's the last thing you remember?\" \n \n\"I don't...I don't know...I don't know...\" The voice grew softer each time, until, finally, it disappeared completely. \n \nOliver spent what seemed like hours calling her name, going from room to room, hall to hall. He even lit candles around her portrait, asking for her to return. \n \nFinally, exhausted, he gave up and decided to look for sleep instead. \n \n* \n \nLight streaming through the window finally woke Oliver. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to recall the events of the previous night. He was prepared to write them off as part of some kind of dust-induced delirium until his eyes happened on the other side of the bed. \n \nThe sheets were lifted up in roughly the form of a person's body. When he pulled the sheets back, there was just empty space, but when he draped the sheets back, the form returned. \n \n\"Oh my god...oh my god...oh my...\" Oliver stammered as he stumbled back away from the bed. \n \n\"What?\" It sounded like Saffron again, her voice back to being curious and cheerful. \n \n\"You-! You were sleeping on my bed with me!\" Oliver said, incredulous. \n \n\"I never!\" Saffron shouted back, playful and lyrical. \"You're in my bed in my room. You're sleeping with me!\" \n \nOliver felt his cheeks flush. \"I-I most certainly did not!\" \n \n\"You did!\" \n \nOliver folded his arms against his chest as the form lifted from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her as if to preserve her invisible modesty. \"I didn't.\" \n \n\"Did!\" Saffron giggled, almost squealing with playfulness. \n \n\"Nuh-uh!\" Oliver said, waiving his hands in mock frustration, laughing as he walked out of the room and into the hall. \n \n\"Nuh?\" Saffron asked, curious. Oliver could see the sheet following him into the hallway. \n \n\"Oh, it-\" He thought about it, laughing as he considered that he was having a conversation with a ghost wearing a sheet. He laughed, leaning against the wall. \n \n\"What?\" Saffron asked, prodding Oliver with her sheet. \"What's funny?\" \n \n\"It's...just that I never thought that if I ever met a ghost, she would have the whole white sheet cliche thing...\" \n \nSaffron giggled, poking him with her sheet again, over and over. \n \n\"Alright, alright, stop...\" Oliver teased. \"Wait...hey...do that again.\" \n \n\"Do what?\" \n \n\"Touch me.\" Oliver watched as a dainty sheet-covered finger extended and pushed against his chest. He watched his shirt deform at the contact and felt the pressure. \n \nSaffron giggled and clapped her hands under the sheet. \"I know! I learned how last night! Isn't it fantastic?\" \n \nOliver shot her a sidelong glance. \"While you were in bed with me?\" \n \nSaffron folded her arms. \"Now see here, mister. I am a proper girl, and I do not touch the men who sleep in my bed.\" \n \n*** \n \n", "Jane knew that this day was coming. Her husband had been in a coma for the past two months and the deadline in his living will had arrived. Knowing her impending reality and living it are different things however. \n\nIn the past two months Jane had spoken to as many people as possible about what to expect, her rabbi, lawyers, friends who had been through it before. Hell, she had to stop herself from accosting random couples on the street. She steeled herself for what was to come as the doctor stepped up to the machines surrounding her once spirited husband. \n\n\"Are you ready Mrs. Ruff? The process should only last a few moments.\" This was an everyday affair for the hospice staff now, but Dr. Kepler tried his best to not let a bored tone enter his voice. He just hoped this one wouldn't stall, after all he did have a tee time coming up.\n\n\"Yes, go ahead Dr.\" Jane knew that she couldn't delay the inevitable, despite maybe wishing otherwise. She had seen the glazed look her friends had developed after just a few weeks and the majority of her dreaded what was to come, while the rest of her felt extremely guilty about that. The doctor gently removed the myriad of tubes surrounding her husband and stepped back. \n\n\"Just a minute now, I'll allow you some privacy. The nurses are just outside should you have any questions.\" Dr. Kepler sighed inwardly, glad to be able to leave early and tried to keep his pace professional while leaving the room.\n\nJane took a deep breath and stretched her face into a smile. She watched as Jack's ghost began to rise up from his now defunct body and his glow increased as his consciousness shifted planes. \n\n\"Jane. What happened? Where are we?\" Jack asked the questions with the curiosity of child. It was hard to be panicked or concerned as a ghost. \n\n\"It's alright Jack.\" Jane replied brightly, she was glad to be able to speak to him again after all. \"There was an accident, but you made it through without any problems.\"\n\n\"Oh\" Jack replied, his glowing form gently pulsing as he hovered above the bed. He'd yet to move since his awakening.\n\n\"Jack dear?\" Jane prompted, a small tear beginning to run down her face.\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"You don't mind that I'm not...all there?\" \n\nThe question hung in the air besides Jack's form.", "\"You don't mind that I'm not all there?\"\n\nKathy asked him in a distressed and questioning tone.\n\n\"No, I think you are beautifuller thand the othar girls\"\n\nWhile his grammar was not impressive by any means, it was impressive that Peter got any words out of his mouth at all.\n\nJust look at the kid.\n\nHe was swaying around and had dirt stains on his jeans from falling over on the way back from the house party. \n\n\"Thank you, I think you are really cute too. But please, if we go through with this. Do you promise that you won't leave me?\"\n\nIt sounded as though Kathy had gone through some rough one-night stand heartbreaks before, and she wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again. \n\n\"Nooo, of courss not. You are perfct.\"\n\nThis girl was at a 7/10 on her worst night Peter thought. What would he tell his friends? Was she an 8? Or maybe even a 9? Well, he knew his friends always bumped up their scores, if they even did score any girls for the night. \n\nHe looked her over again.\n\nDefinitely an 8.\n\nA new high score for this semester.\n\nAnd, I must note that Peter went back to Kathy's room willingly. Yes, he was much drunker than her and his vision was impaired, but many sober men have fallen for her trickery. \n\n\"Ok\"\n\nKathy gave him a big smile.\n\n\"Here we go\"\n\nAs she began to lift off her shirt, Peter, licked his lips and rubbed his palms together. This was going to be a great night. Hopefully he could remember when the sun came up. \n\nGURGLE GURGLE GRRROOOOWWWLLL - Mr. Stomach\n\n(Aw shut up yah bastard) Peter thought to himself.\n\nHe had only puked once this semester and if it happened tonight, it would be the ultimate cock block by mother nature.\n\nExcept he did it to himself. That last keg stand was brutal, so he shouldn't have been complaining.\n\nIf mother nature wanted to fuck up his night, she would have knocked him out of commission two hours ago. \n\n\"You need help?\"\n\nKathy looked up at him and gave a small frown.\n\n\"No...no. I can do this.\"\n\nAnd after that, she hoisted the shirt above her head.\n\n(Wait are those?) Peter began to think until his stomach began to churn painfully.\n\n(I can pull through!) He now commanded at himself.\n\nKathy now pulled her bra off and everything that went with it.\n\nShe was surprised with his lack of reaction.\n\nBut Peter hadn't looked. He was staring at the ground trying to fight off his inner organs from uprising.\n\n\"Ahem\"\n\nPeter looked up.\n\n\"WHAT THE FU-BLAAAUUGHHHH\"\n\nVomit shot straight down at Kathy's feet and she let out a high pitched screech.\n\n\"uuuughhh\"\n\nPeter moaned painfully. \n\n\"No no no! Why does this always happen to me! Why!\"\n\nKathy screamed into the air.\n\nShe said it in anger towards whoever was listening in the sky, not at Peter.\n\nBut Peter still replied anyways.\n\n\"Why da fuck didn't you tell me you only had one boob?\"\n\nBllauuurrrghhhh\n\n\"Sorry bout the puke though. Not feelin so fine tnight.\"\n\n\n\n", "\"It's fine,\" James said. \"You're perfect.\" \n\n\"You'll make me blush!\" I replied. \"Well, you would, if not for... Ahem. Are you really sure?\" \n\n\"Entirely. Normal girls aren't for me.\" \n\n\"Hmm.\" \n\nHe leaned back in his chair. \"Here,\" he said, laying his arm against the wooden table. \"Take my hand.\" \n\nI hesitated. \n\n\"It's OK,\" he said again. \"You should relax.\" \n\nI looked at the floor. \"But you know it won't work.\" \n\n\"Trust me.\" \n\nI wanted to. I really did. But what if it put him off? It should put him off. People need real, actual contact. He might not admit it at first, but sooner or later, it would be too much. Or more accurately, not enough. He would grow out of me like an imaginary friend. \n\n\"I'm not sure you really want me to. At least, I don't think you'll keep wanting me to.\" \n\nHe pulled his hand back. \"OK, one step at a time then. At least loosen up a little?\" \n\nI dropped my arms, letting them dangle freely. \n\n\"That isn't loose.\" \n\nI slouched my shoulders, and slightly bent a knee. \n\n\"Nope. It's useless. You look like a statue.\" \n\nI crossed my arms and held my elbows again. \"I feel like it.\" \n\n\"Listen, there's not so much to worry about as you think. Don't look at me like that. Really, there's not.\" \n\n\"Why?\" I said. \"I wish it could, but this,\" I said, trying to gesture at everything, \"can't work. Just think about it.\" \n\n Footsteps approached the door. The bronze handle turned quickly, and a hooded man burst into the room. I looked urgently across the table, but James was relaxed. And the other man didn't seem to see him. He just strode straight on past, and ripped off his jumper, then a heavily stained white t shirt. The man thrust both into the sink, span both taps to full, and squeezed washing up liquid over the clothes. He started scrubbing vigorously. \n\n\"It's my neighbour,\" explained James, noticing the look on my face. \"Really, its all fine. Like I explained, there's nothing to worry about.\" \n\n\"But... He looks like he just killed someone.\" \n\n\"He did. Me.\" \n\n\"Are you kidding me?\" I gasped. \n\n\"Not at all,\" said James, grinning. \"My body's in the hallway.\" \n\nI backed shakily away from the stranger at the sink. \"But why though? I don't understand...\" \n\n\"No good reason. We had an argument about parking. He took my space, I made an observation about his weight - how it might do him some good to walk a little further, and well. Some people have rotten tempers. He followed me inside, and pummeled my skull with a garden gnome. I always thought I'd go more heroically, if I'm honest.\" \n\nThe stranger had stripped to his boxers at that stage, and I found myself in agreement. He did need to walk a LOT more. He glanced warily over his shoulder. I leapt behind the table, then sheepishly returned to my feet. I'm still not used to being invisible. \n\n\"So... You're...\" I stammered.\n\n\"Dead. Yes. Like you... So when I said you could trust me, I really did mean it. Will you try again?\" \n\nHe extended his hand to me once more. I looked again at the stranger, who was splashing foamy water over himself, sponging his body, and wetting the floor. \n\n\"Ignore him,\" said James. \"He's done me a favour in a roundabout way. I don't have to deal with him any longer, and now, it means I can have you.\" \n\nI leant forward, closed my eyes, and gently touched the tips of my fingers on his hand. I could feel it! I opened my eyes; he smiled, and for the first time in a long time, so did I. \n\nI wasn't all there, but then, neither was he. And I was sorry he'd been murdered, but I'm ashamed to admit that in that moment it suited me perfectly. \n\n...\n\nIn that moment, the stranger stepped away from the sink and slipped on the soapy water. His feet accelerated away from him, and he landed heavily on the counter with his head. Limply slumped on the puddled floor, he slowly opened his eyes, and looked dead-straight at the happy pair.\n\n" ]	4
Bonus points if you can turn the serial killer into the victim.	[WP] You're the worlds most feared serial killer, your crimes rank you among the most notorious in history. One day, while you are stalking your next victim, you find out they are even more twisted than you.	[ "I have saved nine-hundred and ninety-nine people. Nine-hundred and ninety-nine people of all varying creeds and colours. Nine hundred and ninety nine men, women, and children. I did not discriminate, because they all needed to be saved. They all needed to saved by my pious hands. It was my duty to save them, to help them escape from this world of mediocrity, and ascend to the higher planes to be one with the Lord.\n\nBut even I must humbly admit, I cannot save some of God's creation, those who are too deep in bed with the Devil.\n\nMy thousandth should have been special. My thousandth should have been one of wisdom, or power, or pure of blood. My thousandth should have brought honour to the holy realm and re-ignited the holy fire. But this... this abomination has forced my hands.\n\nI had come here to deem whether he was worthy to be saved, only to find that sickness has been cast upon this threshold. Children, many, many of the Lord's precious children, all bound, or gagged, crying and begging and suffering. God's sweet creations, all in some way... violated. It fills me with a pious rage.\n\nI will rectify this wrong, but cannot count this as salvation, this monster will not be saved, but instead will rest within the pit it was born from. No, this will not be my thousandth salvation. This is simply revenge, and I will redeem that what was lost here. \n\nI will redeem all.\n", "Again and again they prove no challenge to me, I'm beginning to not even remember victims from the night before, the first life I took all those months ago was so exhilarating but lately it has become such a bore, and this night started the same as any other.\n\nI wondered into a new bar, in a new city just like I had done every single time as to not attract attention. It was the same as every other one up and down the coast, the late night crowd had just started settling in, and I was eyeing my next victim, I scanned the crowd for someone, anyone that could possibly give me more of a challenge, but all hope seemed lost, these dim witted hipsters paid so little attention to their surroundings that I could most likely take the life of someone inside the bar and no one would even notice. I was beginning to give up home, but then I saw her.\n\nA tall blonde woman from across the bar, me flaunting over her, but she didn't seem interested in those small minded fools, finally I had found someone worthy of being my next trophy. I studied her a few monents then I decided to send her over a drink but as I beckoned the barkeep to order it much to my surprise she walked over and started talking to me. Usually I have to work a little to get these women interested but maybe this wasn't going to be the challenge I thought it was maybe she would be an easier target and I would find my self in a different town onto a new trophy by the end of the night. \n\n\"I saw you staring at me from across the room.\" She began as she rubs her hand up the arm of my suit. Impossible I thought, she hadn't looked in my direction once, \" I know beauty when I see it.\" I explained, \"Oh and what makes you think you know me?\" She asks. \"I've know many women of your type, they are all the same.\" I insist, She removes her hand from my coat. \"You've never met anyone like me\" She says as she pushes her hair back behind her ear. Why is this woman forcing herself onto me like this. No matter at this point its all but decided, she will be my next trophy. We continue talking for a few hours until we decide to leave together. \n\nMy heart is starting to beat faster as we walk down the narrow alleys back toward my hotel room, she seems as eager as I am to move our little two person party into a more secluded location, she doesn't realize that my motivation for privacy is much more sinister. We arrive at the hotel room and I start to go through my routine, i ask her if she would like a drink and I tell her that im going to freshen up by taking a quick shower, in reality I keep my tools inside my bag in the restroom, she agrees and I'm off to prep. Before I can even open my bag there is a knock at the bathroom door, I open it to find no one there, I step into the room to find her and suddenly i feel something wet on the back of my head, i run my hand through my hair and suddenly darkness. \n\nI open my eyes but my vision is blurry, I cant move my extremities other, all of them are bound other than my right arm, but it feels strange, it takes me a few moments but I gain a little more perception of my surroundings, my potential \"victim\" standing over me. \n\n\"Did you enjoy your nap\" she asks, \"what is this, what have you done\", \"I've been watching you for quite sometime, studying your methods. Do you remember Denver? Do you remember the woman you picked up that night, remember the way you tortured her, maimed her, left her body scared and disfigured?\". I couldn't remember, it had been to long, there had been much more exciting victims. \" You don't even remember the way they found her body, charred to a crisp, her right hand the only thing that was left unblemished\". My vision is finally becoming clear and I realize the reason my right arm hasn't been bound. Its burnt to a crisp, the bone seeping through the melted flesh \"You left me her right arm, now I take yours!\" \n ", "John Johnson, a name common in nearly every household in the civilized world. When I was young, I saw no point in life. Not being able to confide in the lies of religion I told myself that I had to leave my mark on this stupid rock. I planned to found a famous company, like Steve Jobs did with Apple. He is a legend in my books, so is Bill Gates. I had a relatively easy childhood, my parents we aristocrats. Now you may ask, why is my name common? Well it is really quiet simple. I achieved my goal. I have left my mark on countless families. However instead of leaving it on their bank statements, I have left a mark on their loved ones with knifes and axes and drills and lawnmowers. I have removed many from the splinter that is the earth.\n\nShould I add more. ", "I love my victims, every one of them. Each person I killed was just a little bit different from the rest of us. Each one like a work of art, who I made into my own work of art. And every one of them was a masterpiece, if only you have a taste for it.\n\nOnly once, have I ever picked out a victim and realized that I couldn't make them into my masterpiece. I can't tell you when or where I found her, but I can tell you what it was like. I meet my victims personally, to get to know what they're like. It's how I make art- how can know what the right way for them to die is if I don't know them? Sure, it's dangerous, if the police ever connect my masterpieces to one person, but that's the game, isn't it? That's what we all live with, killers like me.\n\nI talked to her, several times, and I felt like I got her. Like she was going to be my next work of art. I can't tell you what it was- you don't get to know who she is, I can't give you anything- but I thought I knew. And so I went to her house, one Friday evening, with my knives and my chains and my icepick and I was going to make her intosomething beautiful. And do you know what I found, when I went inside? Do you know what I found?\n\nA body. Not hers, oh no, she had just put it on her dinner table, sliced like a ham and cut open for me, as she stood, looking at my knives and my tools and smiling, just smiling, as she said \"Oh, did you want to kill yourself? There are two more in the basement, if you want them.\"\n\nOooooh, there were. There were. And suddenly, I felt something strange, as the two of us walked down and saw the young couple chained to the wall, beaten bloody and wimpering for mercy. I didn't care about the victims, this time. I cared about her, about sharing this with her, about being together for once.\n\nI love her, my wife. We've been together ever since that day, and I don't think we'll ever be apart. Because I have never known anyone as beautifully twisted as her." ]	4
	[WP] You are alone in the universe. Occasionally, reality conforms to what you are thinking, but nothing living or resembling living will ever form.	[ "I was left here by less noble creatures than I could ever have known. I've grown used to being lonely, but sometimes after a failure, it becomes too much to bear.\n\n\nIn the early stages of the movement entitled \"The Ascent\", I lived on Earth. It was old and crumbling, faltering from the burden of troublesome children. Life was life, and I was lucky. Born into moderate wealth that far outweighed the other half of humanity, I never knew hunger or true pain, or the despair that was the consequence of unchecked growth. Inhabiting the highest deck on a sinking ship wasn't enough I suppose, because technology allowed the rich another way out.\n\n\n\"The Ascent\" was a movement not unlike the Singularity, just a little less spectacular sounding. It began as a virtual reality sim and grew into something so much more. Bloated, rich consciousnesses loaded into virtuality, to wait out the race for the dwindling resources and space was the inevitable step, and people flocked from the harsh realities of living on Earth. Time inside the virtuality could be changed, sped up or slowed down, depending on whatever you thought was going to happen in the future. It was a universe in itself. Subjectively it was immortality, the real choice being in whether you wanted to see what happened to the human race. I chose to wait it out and see. Turns out I chose wrong.\n\n\nLying inside the Ascent booth was the most terrifying moment of my human life. It took me three days to work up the courage and go into the clinic. When the \"switch\" happened, something went wrong. There was no simulation, no created universe for myself, no other inhabitants, nothing. Literally nothing. I was alone, and I didn't even know it.\n\n\nI don't know how long that period of time was, because I couldn't, didn't exist. There is no way to find out either, I'm just luckily I began existing again at all. With me beginning to think, something came out of nothing and I began anew. I had my previous knowledge, but all I had back then was my own consciousness, floating in the black of nothing. Black is the wrong way to describe it, because that would have meant something was existing, the absence of something. Nope, all I had was my mind, and I began to grow very, very lonely.\n\n\nThen I realized I was a god. This was my universe, and I could make life again, cure my loneliness, make the world wholesome, meaningful. This was my chance. I could do anything I wanted and more.\n\n\nWith this realization, I began to create. There was no limit to my resource, all the time to waste I would ever need. I created, and tweaked and went through the process of learning how to simulate my own universe back on Earth. My first try was to copy all I knew from Earth. This first try had vast numbers of brainless autonomous machines roaming a barren landscape and it was all very interesting and all, but it seemed impossible to form a consciousness. There was no way for me to just put parts together and pull out a thinking, living organism, but I tried. Over and over and over again, for countless eons. I grew tired of my machines.\n\n\nEventually I began to simulate my previous universe, to play god from a quasi-deterministic perspective. I could create parameters, starting conditions, everything needed to create life the old fashioned way. I lived out the lifetimes of countless universes omnipotent and omniscient, controlling everything or letting it run its own course. It never did create anything quite like us humans, or anything remotely resembling my own consciousness. Not in the infinite permutations of all the universes I could ever create.\n\n\nThis is truly hell. To be trapped here forever, to know how humanity squandered our precious home. To be alone.\n\n", " I have lived to see the fall of Man, the sun burn out and collapse, one by one the stars have winked out of existence, and I persist. I have forgotten what it was to have another living thing around me. \n I sit and wonder how I got to this place, a mad experiment gone wrong? No... Perhaps I was chosen, or maybe it has always been this way. I think of my past and things will appear, sometimes as simple as a desk, or as complex as a city, but no matter how fleshed out these locals are they are completely devoid of life. I roam these empty ghost towns of my creation wrestling with these powers of creation and their limitations. How? How could I create something more?! ANYTHING?! ANYONE?! I scream and writhe in fury. My anger at this hopelessness and loneliness bursts from my being into bright white light. I push the very universe in every direction, a great blast fueled by wanting it all to simply end. I close my eyes and curl legs and arms to my chest defeated, but then, I see a light. \n A bright burning orb and dust whirling into rocks orbiting it. I do not need to create those living things from my past, but simply put the things there for life to begin again. A simple chain reaction, one that will start with two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen. Here, this third rock will do.", "The flesh of men and women I took so easily for granted has proven to be my undoing. I formed a face and spent a Millenia focusing on just letting it talk, only to realize I was the voice the entire time. I sent it to the hole with the others for it to dissolve, or wherever such abhorrations go when I cast them aside.\n\nDuring a stroll through one of my favorite realms, the snow fields, I fancied the idea of perhaps studying a few snow flakes. I remember some talk of each one being unique and impossible to have two of a kind. To my dismay, after studying merely 6,823 I found a disturbing pattern: the architecture of each flake was limited to my own geometric imagination. Could it be that even the inanimate are tainted by the limits of my previously mortal conscience?\n\nSlowly a paradox was forming. One in which all that I observed to some degree was only capable of behaving exactly as I expected it to. Somehow I knew all along, far before I destroyed the volcanic seas of inferno in my tantrum, before I shattered the seas and tossed the star clusters into utterly typical explosions; drivel that only I could have possibly designed. For all I knew, stars were supposed to implode. Such things were no concern to me in life, and now it is but one of many questions gating the keep to my sanity.\n\nAfter my emotion subsided, I came to a simple conclusion: given infinite time , pondering a solution seemed the most appropriate. I had to look deep within myself to understand the fault. Barely half a century into meditation yielded an astonishing epiphany. While I may be granted the ability to bring things into existence, it is done through the only absolute force here beyond myself: the building blocks. In their truest form they function only in two forms, being and unbeing; on and off. Try as I might've, I could not alter this one law. \n\nTests have been steady progress. I've formed what I am almost certain is an electron. Protons are proving to be more difficult.\n\nI should have celebrated when I formed that first atom. Unfortunately the idea of downing some of my \"artificial\" liquor was far too disgusting to fathom. Literally.\n\nMolecules made a lot more sense than I thought they would. This is a very efficient manner of having matter exhibit different properties. I think I'm getting the hang of this. I have to stop sometimes to remind myself of the world I'm trying to build again. Occasionally it occurs to me I could just start from scratch, but somehow the idea of leaving the image of the world to myself seems a farce matched only by my oldest attempts at creation.\n\nComplex structures of plasma are literally forming themselves. Holy shit. At this rate the world would have been nothing but a single basic matter cluster , so I had to scrap it. \n\nIt was so simple! After a few configurations of the interactions between energy and mass I've automated the electron spread process to populate the world with lots of different elements. If only I knew the chemical compound for alcohol.\n\nPlacing them like pieces on a board isn't working. Colliding them isn't working either. \n\nWell, I found alcohol in a nebula. A lot of it. I was passed out for at least a decade. The rest can be scrapped but this nebula is staying with me.\n\nPerhaps it was a mistake to keep the alcohol cloud. My judgement has been poor as of late, and I'm prone to more powerful mood swings. Last I remember I grew upset at a tongue-in-cheek attempt at mostly hydrogen universe, and let the whole thing explode into existence instead of my usual methods. It's a mess I'll clean up after this hangover subsides.\n\nToday I awoke to galaxy clusters. With star systems. And planets. And... Primordial glop. Nothing going on in the one I visited though. It looked like it needed a push, all those proteins unfolded and bumping around without form. I cast lightning enough to get them to form some primitive nuclei, or whatever they called them. After waiting and watching them form, I quickly went back to the alcohol nebul- shit. I still have that. \n\nOh well.\n\nThe drinking has gone on long enough. I awoke again only to find that the planet had evolved life, had that life obliterated by a myriad of natural occurrences I could have stopped, and they had been replaced by an entirely new round of organisms. You couldn't begin to imagine the flurry of sensations rushing through me. Merely a few trillion years ago I was absolutely alone, and in that moment I was the caretaker for a planet of new pets. I couldn't wait until some of them became sentient. \n\nI sat and watched, amazed at the autonomy of them all. Living now to suit the needs of the cells that carried their genes, but some day they could live to be so much more. They could be thinkers and makers, like me. I immediately decided I would personally meet the best intelligent ones and teach them what I knew.\n\nIt's been 10,000 years since the first one could start asking existential questions. This question gathered them, caused them to build cities and fight wars and dream about all of their own answers to the question. If I told them now that the simple answer is that I was lonely, I would be breaking the hearts of many of them in the name of my own closure. I couldn't do that to them. Not all of them. Not a single one deserved to have that taken from them. Their ideas of right and wrong though partially based on instinct to keep each other safe for procreation, are akin to my own in many ways. They fail to realize that the nature of their strife is in the many experiences of those who commit atrocities. They don't understand each other and it is their short life spans and narrow interests in that time keeping them from caring to learn. But they try in their own way. I have to continue to let them on this path.\n\nI awoke to the strange buzzing sound of innumerable space craft. It's only been 5,000 years since I witnessed their first crawl into space. Now my favorite life forms are among the finest in their galaxy.\n\nThey found the alcohol nebula and started using it for fuel. Good riddance.\n\nWell they did it. They discovered dimensional folding powerful enough to cross to other galaxies. They're building a ship large enough to carry entire star systems inside the hull to bring with them in an effort to combat the entropy. I have no intentions of slowing the heat death, I want to see what they come up with. This ship thing is interesting.\n\nNo, no no no no, no! My favorite species was captured and swallowed by an even larger trans-galactic ship. They're going to die out unless they show some mercy. I've stayed out of it for this long, but can I any further?\n\nSomehow they took the ship, but most of them have cross bred with the captors, it looks like they kept their reproductive capabilities hostage and bargained a hybridization from within the hull. This is getting weird.\n\nWell, they're down to maybe a few hundred galaxies to salvage. The most unspread matter found in the universe is officially their gargantuan ship. It's literally swallowing everything whole. I've been eavesdropping to see what their top researches can come up with. I'd truly love to see what would happen should they attempt that many worlds theory based device. A universe a different me built? Maybe I could come too.\n\nThey funded the super colossal tractor beam instead. Fuck.\n\nAnd that's it. No way for them to tell if their tractor beam is pulling on anything across the universe, they're a fish gasping for water. The energy they radiate from the ship is literally a leak too great. Ironically the ship's design to never implode from gravity would be their downfall; at least that would form a few million more galaxies. \n\nThey're huddling up now, crowding together for comfort. I've seen the end of countless individual lives and yet this is unlike the end of any life I've witnessed. It follows no patterns of acceptance or tendencies of chaos. It's nothing but hope. \n\nThen I see it. Or rather, them. Me. They're setting him on a course far beyond the edge of the universe with all of their collected energy. Some mad man has converted the whole damned thing into a kind of conduit for a new dimension, and they plan on using everything and everyone on board as fuel to get this one through.\n\nIt is at this moment that I realize that this universe despite it's surprises and lessons... Is still only all that I have ever experienced. It is still a product of only that which I can comprehend and in that nature what I sought to leave behind. I allowed them to struggle, grow, and conquer, only to have them come knocking on my doorstep in no better a position than myself.\n\nBack to the drawing board.\n", "I've seen everything. I've seen stars go nova, seen gas giants ignite, watched galaxies merge. I've seen neutron stars collide, watched the chaotic dance of planets, seen moons get ripped apart by tidal forces. When the universe gets too cold, I can make more. But it gets boring.\n\nI mastered my god-like powers long ago. Long gone are the ages of leaving it to chance. The universe listens to my whims, but no matter how much I listen, I never hear anything back. I seem to be truly alone. Making life, or any sort of intelligence, is the one thing outside my abilities.\n\nStill, I got tired of making everything, so I found myself a nice solar system near the edge of a galaxy. Two of the rocky planets had large oceans. The smaller one didn't have much of a magnetic field, so I didn't waste any time there. But the larger one looked more promising. I gave it a little kick. A bit of hydrogen cyanide, some hydrogen sulfide.\n\nNow I wait.", "I can't express the amount of loneliness I feel. It wasn't always this way. I wasn't always the only living being in the universe. Through science and luck, I became immortal. What I hadn't considered was I couldn't make anyone else immortal. As Earth died, humanity went with it after only 230 years. Since then, I have looked for life in other parts of the universe, but I believe I am it. \n\nI also have a unique ability. I can create things with my mind. I can't control it yet, but it's not life or even resembling anything living. This talent does keep the boredom from driving me insane. I drift through the coldness of space and have been for perhaps two million years now. I travel through blackholes, and I've passed through stars. I prefer the insane heat to the coldness of space. I can't describe the beauty of the core of a star. I wish there were someone I could share it with.\n\nWhen I find a planet, I spend some time there. I found a place like Earth. It was beautiful. I make structures with my mind sometimes. Sometimes, I dream, and wake up to find a cityscape has been formed. I rebuild the Statue of Liberty, the Space Needle, the Grand Canyon, what I remember of Yellowstone National Park, and a giant pelican statue from my boyhood home. The structures exacerbate my loneliness. \n\nI want to see what I look like. I haven't seen my image in so long that I barely remember my looks. I find a pool of water and look at myself. I am a remnant of my former self. I look like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, minus My Precious. \n\nTo combat my endless loneliness, I create warm things that I cuddle and hold. I desire a conversation, the touch of something. I would take a pet, something. I need a change. I begin to think and think and think about a wormhole. Wormholes are a rip in the fabric of space time, the time aspect is important. If I can go back to Earth in the past, I won't be alone, and I might be able to save it. Then, one day, the wormhole appears, like magic. I wait four days before I travel through it simply out of fear. What if it doesn't work? What then? There's only one way to know. \n\n*\n\nEarth appears before me. The moon is just starting to form. The ghostly image of the young sun is comforting after a while. Earth is young and molten, but, if I wait long enough, there will be life. At least, that is what I hope. \n\nBillions of years pass. I watch life form again. To not be alone is so alien to me, but life continues until humans appear again. I am approaching ten billion years of age. My skin is grey, my teeth are worn to nubs. I am a frightful sight, but I give them fire and the wheel and help to develop technology. As generations pass, they begin to revere me as a god. In this position, I might be able to change the future and save humanity, and, then, I will never be alone again. \n*\nIf you like this story, I have more stories available at my subreddit: r/nickkuvaas" ]	5
	[WP] You've just escaped a "Groundhog Day" loop, only to find out that everything you did while to trying to escape has a consequence on the world outside the loop.	[ "Alright. Dodge to the left, and he'll miss me with the defensive axe attack. One right step into a shoulder tackle will send the axe flying. A jump off the floor at 32 degrees will ensure that my feet are at proper range to kick the axe. But only after a delay of 1.3 seconds, so that I don't get my own foot like the three million other times. This time, instead of using all my might, which would spin the axe around and only strike him with the handle, I have to use 83% of maximum. And....go!\n\n\n\nThe axe is sent flying. As it soars, Jacobs eyes fill with fear at his impending doom. It enters Jacobs head, and gets stuck on the opposite wall, blood spatter flying all over the place. Well, I've finally found the perfect solution to this particular encounter. Now, I just have to take his key and retrieve the ball I need to secure Donald's loyalty. From there I'll have the maximum number of people allied to me who can help me escape this loop.\n\n\n\nAs I pick his pockets for the key, though, something shifts. A scream erupts from Jacob, as his body reanimates. It's still stuck on the axe, but it's almost as if he's both there and not there at the same time. This...was definitely new. \n\n\n\"WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!? WHAT THE HELL! GYAH!\" Well, it was apparent that he was feeling the pain of having an axe stuck in him. Then, his attention turns to me, somehow focusing through the pain.\n\n\n\"You. YOU DID THIS TO ME!\" He moves through the axe like a ghost, then grabs it. Okay, I've done this before. Just anticipate his moves, and move to the side. There's no way he'll...I promptly get a finger cut off. Well, this is inconvenient. At least my pain receptors are still shut down. It seems like he knows how I moved to get him last time. I spring back, taking off my shirt to form a bandage and limit the blood loss.\n\n\n\"Why...Why do I remember killing you so many times? Why did you attack me all those times? Who put these memories in my head?\" Intriguing. Jacob has evidently kept all of the memories from the previous loops. That'd make taking him on considerably more difficult. The only logical solution is to turn and run. But even as I begin to run he leaps forward. Darn it, another miscalculation. Previously, he had been fighting back in self-defense, but now that he had roughly two years worth memories involving me attacking him out of the blue any reluctance to kill me has vanished. Still, I just have to escape the school, and I can turn to the others for help...\n\n\nLeaping out the third story window, I roll as I impact onto the ground. That had been essential for escaping Daniel's bomb when I antagonized him on purpose to generate sympathy towards me and discredit his psychologist who had been working and succeeding in helping Daniel through his mental issues, making it easier to manipulate her. But enough reminiscing about failed routes. \n\n\nJacob obviously can't follow me (He probably thought I was dead), so I should take the opportunity to hide. Maybe hiding with Megan would be a good idea? She should be my romantic partner in this route, so she's more inclined to help me than anyone else. She's also relatively close to my current position. Mind made up, I sprint towards her house. When I get there, I'll spin a tale about how Jacob has gone insane, and thinks I've killed him before. They'll never believe him if he goes to the police. \n\n\nComing up on the door, I compose myself. Ringing the doorbell, I announce my presence. The music blasting from Megan's room upstairs have stopped, and I hear a scrambled noise as she apparently reaches for something. Hmm, she's taking a while to come down. The door opens. I wonder what...\n\n\nBOOM\n\n\nThe shotgun blast rips through my lower abdomen. Buckshot tunnels deep into my flesh, inflicting heavy damage to my internal organs. Even though my body has gotten used to the pain, it still can't function if it's missing the organs. I collapse onto my knees, as Megan steps outside. Her eyes are unhinged, filled with bloodlust. And at the same time tears. Huh, it's just like her face when I killed her during that information gathering route, when I had to torture her for her knowledge on the others...oh.\n\n\n\"YOU BASTARD!\" \n\n\nI...might have miscalculated. \n\n\n\nBOOM", "Day 3,067-ish. Started adding \"-ish\" after going on that bender 576-ish days ago. Did I lose a day? Was that even possible? I never woke up hungover, but that was the only day I couldn't remember what happened the day (or days) before.\n\nBut anyway, today is different. It's the same, but different. Still the same date. Still the same weather. Still the same people. But something is off. \n\nAs always, I get in my car, start the ignition, push a button, and \"...Syrian refugee crisis continues to worsen, as European leaders scramble to find common ground in what appears to be a growing quagmire.\" Same words, but something was off. They sounded... bored? Dreary even. That never happened before. I paused, sat perfectly still, looking at my radio like it would explode any second. Heart racing. What is going on? \n\nI was going to make today a standard day. I did that from time to time. It was like a weekend. Sure it was fun to go on a murder spree. Or to make lewd advances toward every woman in sight just to discover who was willing (damn, Margaret, I never would have thought). And there were the self-improvement days. But occasionally, I just wanted to drive to St. Aloysius High School, greet everybody, and teach class as I would have 3067-ish days ago.\n\nI changed. Nothing else did. Until today. What is going on? Wary, I pulled out of my parking space in the apartment lot and rolled out into my daily commute, until I stop at the intersection of Main and Georgia. Where was old Phelma and her little dog? Every morning, I stop her to let the barely mobile octogenarian and her equally decrepit schnauzer scoot interminably across the street. \n\nWell, most mornings. Somewhere around day 2,314, I started using her to perform macabre physics experiments involving my compact hatchback. People in my world are 24-hour bop bags. Including me. I am a bop bag among bop bags. So occasionally, I would accept the hit-and-run as a part of my day. Turns out that, after 6 fewer red lights, offing Phelma and Snookie resulted in a solid 20-minute shorter commute.\n\nToday, she's nowhere to be found. I can't accept this. I put the car in park and step out into the slight chill. Leaving it humming in the road, I start down the direction whence Phelma always trods. Sickly barking--actually, more of a heff, heff, heff, startles me from the right. There's the schnauzer, behind a hedge, tugging at her bleached pink leash, leading to... \"Phelma? Ma'am?\"\n\n\"GET AWAY FROM ME.\" She was crouched, almost in fetal position, behind the hedge. \"MURDERER. MURDERER. LEAVE ME ALONE.\" Her face shaking, her eyes, wide with fear and hatred, she jowled her rage while failing to contain substantial spittle.\n\nI stagger back. Same day, same people, but what the hell is this?" ]	2
	[WP] You are a sentient object. One day, someone dies while using/interacting with you. (Potentially NSFW)	[ "So this old motherfucker, yeah? He takes years to shit. I sit on my perch, and I have nothing better to do than watch him. There's only a few layers above me. I'll be used soon.\n\nI dread it. Like, shit man. Literally. And that's not the worst of it; I get tossed into a pot with his shit and a few ass hairs stuck to me once I've been used.\n\nHe's huffing and wheezing, probably nearly done. If I had a lip, I'd have chewed it apart in anxiety. He reaches at the roll with his gnarled hand, and pulls off a few squares. Those poor guys.\n\nI'd hate to go first. You'd think us tp squares would enjoy our job, but I dunno. Personally, I think its real shitty, and there's no way for me to ask the guys connected to me so I suppose we'll never know. He's reaching again.\n\nOw!\n\nHe yanked off the square next to me. Damn near tore me in half. I'm next. Will he finish? Will I have to wait till his next trip to the bathroom? Maybe that old bitch who never locks the door will use me.\n\nOh god. Oh god.\n\nHe's reaching again. \n\nAll I can do is watch helplessly. The second tear was overridden by adrenaline. I'm terrified. He presses me against his rectum. This is disgusting. I would rather burn than this.\n\nBut nothing happens. I stay there, stuck.\n\nHis sphincter starts convulsing, and I can feel his whole body moving. He stops, and stays still.\n\n---\n\nIt's been hours since he last moved. His asshole is cold, and quite frankly, it's worse like this. Not only am I forced to collect shit, I've been stuck to a dead guy's ass for hours on end.\n\nI finally fall. The long silver hairs and crusted faeces couldn't hold me up forever. As I tumble into the water, I curse all the Gods I can think of.\n\nI land in the bowl, and drown in a dead guy's shit. What a life.", "It's a tough life being a hammer. Every day having your face driven into nails. No one but me seems to hear their screams and those of every other thing in the world. The only difference is I understand the animals that use us. \n\nToday is another day, Ted is going to the construction site. He tosses me and the other tools in the seat of his car.\n\n\"What's he talking about, Stanley?\" Phillips knows I can understand them so he makes sure to ask every chance he gets. \n\n\"Shh! He's on about someone named Eric and his girl— I said quiet, Phil, dammit! He's not going to work as far as I can gather.\" Minutes pass and we stop. Apparently not at the new condo development. I don't know what's going on Tim Ex is telling me it's like 6 am.\n\nTed grabs me but not the other tools.\n\n\" Look at the favorite tool everyone! Screw you Stan!\" Robertson is just jealous because he is useless outside of Canada.\n\n\" Yeah, try to with your square head Rob!\" I yell back.\n\nI'm upside down and everything is wrong. He's holding me too tight and walking too fast. When he rings a doorbell. Someone answers the door and they begin arguing about banging or something. Maybe they need me to show them how to hit things? I don't know.\n\n Suddenly I am up and then face first into the man's skull. It's red and sticky. Is this what they're like on the inside? Gross. I feel Ted let me go. Why is he leaving me. It feels like I'm moving with this Eric fellow now, but falling over. I hear some muffled banter from the key hook and door, but no one's coming. I've been left to rust in the blood and Manufacturer knows what else." ]	2
	[WP] A thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world.	[ "Four rivers converged at the heart of our once fair city. The rivers were our lifeblood, flowing steady and strong through the canal that wove through the streets. Our waters were clean and pure. Seafood was readily available year round in the Western markets. Minerals and precious stones were carried along by the currents where they were deposited on the East end. We crafted healing salves and elixirs from the bounty of our rivers on the North side. In the south, they grew magnificent crops of fruit and vegetables. Everything we wanted was provided for us by these sacred streams.\n\nTravelers came from neighboring cities and distant lands alike to experience what our rivers had to offer. Our economy boomed from local and foreign trade. Shops and hotels sprang up seemingly overnight to compensate for the growing need. We were are peaceful and kindly people. We were proud of our fair city. It gleamed like a diamond embedded into the earth. Our light called out to everyone far and near. Not once did we consider that there were some who would take advantage of us; people who harbored resentment or ill will towards us.\n\nTrash began to appear in the filters around town. It was negligible at first and we wrote it off as some ill mannered tourists or some sort of mishap. More plastic and tin began to appear in the grates and wrapped around our fish. As we began to investigate the matter, sludge and oil appeared in the river. Our waters had a sharp sheen and our aquatic life turned belly up. The citizens were in a panic. They were pointing fingers at the outsiders and at each other. What had taken centuries to build and maintain was being destroyed in decades. A thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world. Overnight it had become another sump of the Earth.\n\n-292", "Shimmering jade spires, marble streets exploding in every direction, pools of gold in every man's vault. Silandria stood alone in the world, an effervescent symbol of prosperity. Within its one-hundred-foot walls, one could begin to think that safety wasn't a delusion, that hunger pangs weren't a central part of the human condition. A thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world.\n\nNow, Silandria is a husk. A dried, cracking carapace. Vagrants seep through the gaps in its impregnable walls. Heavy metal particulates seep into its fresh springs. Carrion beetles and overgrown thistle occupy the once bustling market square.\n\nSoggy old billboards advertising health insurance are buried under several feet of ivy and moss. One of the few lampposts still upright hasn't tasted electricity in a millenium. Power plants tend toward not operating when their operators flee.\n\nIt's not all bad, though. Silandria found other ways to thrive. You see it under murky lighting from the collapsed subway tube roof. Hundreds of merchants line the walls, peddling their goods in broken English. The palpable scent of unwashed man doesn't dissuade buyers.\n\nOne can find just about anything here. A grimy man barely contained by his loincloth is selling leathery human toes, a potent aphrodisiac. Another man in a patchwork tweed suit is selling travel-size shampoo bottles from behind the protection of three more-ape-than-man bodyguards. They dislike eye contact.\n\nBuyers barter for their goods. Half of a box of .22 Long Rifle bullets in return for a 'new' pair of leather boots. Moby Dick for a stained woolen cap. What good is a book if you're going to freeze to death? Books don't burn long. \n\nA millenium of Silandrian Exceptionalism, as they used to call it, followed by a millenium of Silandrian Debasement. Is it fair? Probably not. But hey, the bomb sure helped us get rid of those smug bastards.", "\n“Will you talk?”\n\nAnother crack of the whip. Another scream. Tears staining the sandstone floor of the imperial palace. The king’s shadow reached out from the throne to grace the columns and the stones, the statues and the blood. Torches placed along the walls bathed the room in dancing, crimson light, while pleas for mercy echoed off the walls. A young man, barely twenty, lay bent and broken before the king. His back was wrecked with scars and blood trickled down his hardened skin, leaving orange stains on the yellow stone below. His eyes flickered to the corner of the room. Two guards in black armor. A screaming girl in a violet skirt, too young to know what was going on. Another crack of the whip. Another scream.\n\n“You will look at your king when he addresses you,” barked the assailant. Sweat poured down the broken man’s face as he struggled to lift up his head. The king’s face was expressionless, stoic, like a demon or a statue in the firelight.\n \n“Will you talk?” He asked again, his voice soft and sweet like honeyed bread. The man could barely open his mouth to speak. There was nothing left to say. Another crack of the whip. Another scream. He felt like his spirit was dying within him. Like his breath refused to come. Every breath was tinted with the iron tang of blood. The king spoke again.\n\n“You set your sword against the greatest empire that mankind has ever known, and now your tongue goes slack?” Another crack of the whip. Another scream. “The Gods have blessed this city with power and wealth. Foreign peoples flock here in droves to see its splendor. Yet you – you who are privileged enough to live within its walls – you seek to destroy all that I have accomplished?”\n\n“No man . . . should be owned.” The broken man croaked. The king’s brow furrowed as he waived his meager hand. Another crack of the whip. Another scream.\n\n“The labor of slaves built this city,” said the king, reaching into a golden brazier beside him and pulling out a burning coal with his naked fingers. “Slaves built its roads and its temples, its gardens and its sewers. It’s thanks to slaves that this city is the jewel of the world. Would you see that undone?”\n\nWith a nod of the king’s head, two guards dragged a wooden box of dry straw to the center of the floor. The king absentmindedly flicked the coal into the air, watching it tumble down through the empty space and skitter across the floor, coming to rest well short of the box. The same guards marched toward the broken man, and, with little effort grabbed him beneath the arms and lifted him to his feet. Instantly, his eyes shot open, and he turned toward the girl at the side of the room.\n\n“Don’t watch this!” He cried, his voice filled with anguish and terror. It felt like his legs were going to fall out from under him as his eyes scanned the straw, imagining it catching fire with him inside. Her face was anguished; drowning in tears and disfigured with pain as she begged for her father’s safety. The king smirked and raised his boyish face, striking blue eyes gleaming with menace in the firelight.\n\n“Don’t worry. She won’t be watching.” \n\nThe guard at her side picked her up with one hand, dangling her by the wrist like she was some kind of undesirable animal before throwing her gracelessly onto the straw. It was like an arrow pierced his heart. His body was roaring, pleading for him to react, to lash out against the king and fight, but all his energy was gone. Whether it was shock or exhaustion from the beating, he would never know, but he couldn’t bring himself to do more than stare as the king plucked another coal from the brazier.\n\n“I want you to remember, now, that you once considered yourself an honorable man.” The king mocked, flicking the glowing coal into the box with expert precision. A guard drew his sword, the silver blade shining orange in the torchlight. The girl was hypnotized, her eyes flicking back and forth from the blade to her father, afraid to move even as smoke began to rise from the box. Two guards came in, carrying a slab of wood between them, and the broken man was turned around and pushed toward the palace entrance.\n\n“Go,” he ordered, “and remember what happens when you cross a king.”\n\nHe heard the girl calling his name as though he were underwater. One step forward. Shrieking. The sound of hammers. One step forward. The crack of burning wood. Another scream. One step forward.\n\n“Bring in the next one.” The king ordered.\n\nOne step forward.\n\n**\n\nThere was another rally happening in the park. Some asshole with a megaphone and a tiny dick trying to give his life a little bit of meaning by waving around a flag and pretending to be better than other people. It was the kind of thing that made Simon want to leave the country.\n\n“One thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world!” He yelled. It was an old talking point from way back in the days of King Bastion the First, but by that time it was mostly used by disgruntled old racists longing for the good old days. You know, the good old days when they were the biggest country in the world and people could be stoned to death for not wearing the right hat to church.\n\nAs soon as he heard the megaphone, he packed up his history book and stood up to leave. He had often considered giving these people a lesson on Bastion. How he was a whiny fifteen-year-old psychopath with an inferiority complex. How he was molded and manipulated by his advisors to such a degree that nothing written in his own hand had survived to the present day. How he had stumbled into most of his military victories by accident and how his empire was built on industrial amounts of slave labor.\n\nBut Simon was hungry, and he had a test to study for, so he zipped up his backpack and walked past the statue of King Bastion the First – the national hero – and down the asphalt path toward home. \n\n\n(Got interrupted while writing this and had to stop early, but I think it turned out alright)", "\"What happened to the city, dad?\"\n\nI smiled, brushing my daughter's hair out of her eyes, \"We don't really know. Legends speak of a great battle that took place,\" I remembered the stories when I was a kid, the way my dad always told them. \"That this battle decided the fate of humanity and their ancestors, that the three races joined together to stop an evil so great that only a combined force could beat them.\"\n\n\"But why did the city fall?\"\n\n\"The battle tore through it's streets and destroyed the very essence that made the city so great. We had no choice to abandon it,\" I remembered how my father told me of the fall, how one race turned against the others. \"It was the only way we could survive.\"\n\n\"Do you think we'll ever go back?\"\n\nI smiled, a child's dream that we all had at one point in our lives. But once you turned eighteen you found out the truth, and the truth is never as it seems. \"One day when we are stronger,\" I held my daughter's hand, encouraging her, \"maybe the three races will return so a new era of prosperity can rise.\"\n\n\"I hope we do one day, dad,\" my daughter buried her face into her pillow, \"I hope.\"\n\nI smiled and kissed her on the forehead, \"Get some sleep,\" I sat up from the bed and nodded. A child's dream that the city could flourish once again, that's all it ever was.\n\n___\n\n\"What news from the front?\"\n\n\"They are pushing on all sides from the city center, but we're holding them inside.\"\n\n\"Reinforcements?\"\n\n\"Not needed, but some more ammunition and explosives would help.\"\n\n\"Frederick?\"\n\nI sat in the meeting room as we did every Sunday morning, to talk about the next week and our moves. But my mind was focused on my daughter, my eight year old daughter, who was growing more and more curious of the world outside of our zone. And who was growing more curious of what her father did for a living.\n\n\"Frederick?\"\n\nI shook my head and looked up at Harris, the Captain of our Zone's Guard, my second in command as he had more military experience than I ever did. \"I'm sorry?\"\n\n\"Ammunition, explosives? Can we do that?\" He raised an eyebrow.\n\nI looked down at my holopad and tapped the screen a few times, \"Yeah, I can send about two weeks' worth on the next copter.\" I looked back up at Harris and nodded, making sure to keep my mind focused on the meeting.\n\n\"Good,\" Harris turned back to the hologram of one of his Lieutenant's, who was still in the 'Dead City,' \"That sound good, LT?\"\n\nThe Lieutenant nodded, \"Yes, sir, that's perfect.\"\n\n\"Then it's settled. Relay your orders to the Elf command, we'll be seeing them for our bi-annual update, but I want them to know what is going on.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nHarris sent off an impromptu salute as the feed cut off, leaving myself, Harris, and the two civilian commanders in the room. Jasmine Dark, the labor worker, and Tucker Ellis, our zone's doctor. \"What's the work load going to look like for our year ones?\"\n\nJasmine shrugged, \"Nothing that will upset the public. We can divvy it up to make it seem like seasonal work.\"\n\nHarris nodded, \"Great. Tucker, any news?\"\n\nTucker leaned forward, \"We have a bit of a situation with public health, it's something I haven't seen in years.\"\n\n\"How many years?\" I asked.\n\n\"Since the last scouts went to the Dead City.\"\n\nI dropped my holopad and massaged my head with my hand, \"The Virus is back again, how?\"\n\nTucker leaned back and forth, \"Well, I managed to nip the first few cases with our available antibiotics, but without the factories of the Dwarves, I can't manufacture any more of it.\" Tucker sighed, \"My best bet is the latest scouts from the Dead Zones became carriers, I'd need to full analyses.\"\n\n\"How much do you have?\"\n\n\"About eighty more people.\"\n\nI rubbed my chin and shook my head, \"That won't be nearly enough. The last outbreak was well over two thousand.\"\n\n\"The dwarves won't let us near their factories, Frederick. Not since the last time,\" Harris leaned forward.\n\nI nodded, \"I know, I know, but this will turn in a zone-wide epidemic if we can't nip it in time.\"\n\n\"What are you thinking?\"\n\nI shook my head. I had been the background leader of the Zone for close to twelve years, since my successor passed the torch to me. A thankless job, but Zone leaders were chosen among the best Year Ones and then bred for job. \"Quarantine. Sector-wide.\"\n\nJasmine leaned forward, \"That's going to put a halt on some major work.\"\n\n\"I'd rather have us halt major work than kill the Zone.\"\n\nTucker nodded, \"It is the best. I can analyze the Scouts and move from them there, but I will need to make more eventually.\"\n\n\"That involves talking to the dwarves, and it's been years since they accepted our pleas.\"\n\n\"I'll go,\" I said.\n\nHarris shook his head, \"No way. Too many variables, you haven't even chosen a successor yet, Fred, we can't send you there.\"\n\n\"Humanity has been holding the city since the fall,\" I leaned forward, \"it's time the dwarves remembered that. It's time they remembered whose been holding them at bay.\"\n\n\"You're going to blackmail them, you'd need all the Zones to agree to that, which they won't.\"\n\nI nodded, Harris had a point, but the dwarves didn't need to know that. Each Zone had a vote in humanity's fate, but the elves and dwarves had never defended the city like we did. It was time they remembered who had been dying for their people over the last thousand years. \"Dwarves don't know human politics, and they never will.\"\n\nHarris sighed, he knew I wasn't going to let up, we had known each other long enough to understand the decisions made by another. \"You'll need a security escort, the Mayor will have to be notified.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Put together a team, send a message to the dwarves, I leave tonight.\" Tucker and Jasmine both leaned back in their chairs and after Harris made the orders for my escort, he too leaned back. \"Any other issues?\"\n\nThe three remained quiet.\n\n\"Then it's settled. We'll be supplying the front with more ammunition and explosives, Tucker will continue his analysis of the Virus, Jasmine will divvy the work load and I will go talk to the dwarves,\" I nodded, \"This meeting is adjourned, return to your families, spread your orders.\" I stood upwards and recited the words that each Zone leader recited during these meetings; the words of our ancestors, and a tradition that continue even after the fall, \"May the prosperity of our people continue to hold fast through our Zones.\"\n\nThe three stood and then replied in unison, \"Prosper or Fall.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Prosper or Fall.\"\n\nThe three left the room, returning to the office of the Mayor. This room had been built in every Zone Hall in the mayor's office, to talk of matters such as this, in secret and away from public eye. My job was thankless, unknown, and never talked about outside of this room. My trip to the dwarves would have to be equally secret.\n\nI thought of my daughter and her dream to return to the city. Most kids her age had the same dream, but by the time they reached eighteen that dream would disappear. My daughter, I knew, would never let that dream go. She would want to return to the city, the labor committee would see that and place her in the military. She would train and train until she ventured to the city and fought the race that betrayed us so many years ago.\n\nHer dream would turn into an ugly reality, a reality where she saw the city for what it was now. A horrifying, disease-filled, battlefield. The city had no hope, it had no desire to be great once again. The Zones and their leaders all saw that, but we never had the backing to end the war. If I could get the dwarves to talk again, if I could get our three races together again, we could unite and destroy the ones that betrayed us so many years ago. The dream of the city would end because their would be no city to return to, and we could truly prosper again.\n\nI grabbed my things and walked towards the exit. I had been playing the game of secrets and maneuvers for far too long, it was time we ended the dream of the city and replaced it with the dream of the future. No good ever came from dwelling on the past, and I wanted to see humanity look towards the future again.\n\nI wanted humanity to see that the future was worth fighting for. Not the past, not a fallen race, not a dead city.\n\n________\n\nI had fun with this and might come back later to work on it. If you enjoyed, check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more!*" ]	4
Sorry, title error. Im sure its obvious I meant Gordon Ramsay though.	[WP] Every inmate on death row gets a meal cooked exactly to their liking before their execution. Todays prisoner to be executed: Gordn Ramsay	[ "\"Who's next?\" the guard asked the janitor.\n\n\"I heard that they're calling in someone from the Food Network to help\"\n\n\"Really? Why don't they just... kill him?\"\n\n\"I don't know man. It's a law. Must be cooked to perfection.\"\n\n\"But... for Ramsay?\"\n\nA cry is heard down the hall. A chef is seen running, tears streaming down his face.\n\n\"AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU FIGURE OUT HOW TO FILET A FISH FCKING PROPERLY, YOU WASTE OF SPACE. THIS MUST BE WHY YOUR WIFE LEFT YOU. I'LL BET YOU COULDN'T EVEN SATISFY HER NEED FOR A HAM SANDWICH YOU MISERABLE FAILURE!\"\n\n\"Oh dear. There he goes again.\"\n\nThe two men look down the hall, to see a woman being forced forward by two large men.\n\n\"Don't leave me in there, please!\" she screams at the two burly men.\n\nOne pulls a taser. The woman takes a look at the crying chef, and throws herself on the taser.\n\n\"Oh. Wow.\" the janitor says.\n\n\"WHERE IS MY CHEF. I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY YOU WORTHLESS PIGS. I ENVY ALL THOSE THAT HAVEN'T MET YOU DESPICABLE CNTS.\"\n\nThen, down the hall, three more guards throw a man into the cell.\n\n\"Please... don't leave me.\" the man begs.\n\n\"Oh. Are you any better then the rest? Have you got the slightest spark in your brain, so that you may come even somewhere close to pleasing me? No, not close. Just not as far as these other bafoons I have been presented with.\" Ramsay says.\n\n\"Please. PLEASE!\"\n\n\"Now. Let's begin.\" Ramsay says.", "Last meals tell a lot about a person. Although almost no one ever eats more than a nibble or two, people tend to order various \"comfort\" foods. Things they remember from childhood, extravagant sweets, regional specialties, foods of that nature.\n\nJohn Wayne Gacy ordered a bucket of KFC. Timothy McVeigh ordered a quart of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Ted Bundy ordered a typical breakfast with a giant steak in the middle, and never even touched it.\n\nOn the more unusual side, [Gary Carl Simmons ordered](http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/death-row-inmate-requests-29000-906253) a record-breaking \"Pizza Hut medium Super Supreme Deep Dish pizza, double portion, with mushrooms, onions, jalapeno peppers, and pepperoni; pizza, regular portion, with three cheeses, olives, bell pepper, tomato, garlic and Italian sausage; 10 8-oz. packs of Parmesan cheese; 10 8-oz. packs of ranch dressing; one family size back of Doritos nacho cheese flavor; 8 oz. jalapeno nacho cheese; 4 oz. sliced jalapenos; 2 large strawberry shakes; two 20-oz. cherry Cokes; one super-size order of McDonald's fries with extra ketchup and mayonnaise; and two pints of strawberry ice cream.\" And he managed to eat about half of it!\n\nBut this? I always try to maintain an air of decorum given the seriousness of my job, but I couldn't suppress a small chuckle at the irony. Perhaps the closest historical last meal I can think of - in spirit anyway - Adolf Eichmann famously ordered a bottle of an Israeli wine, Carmel.\n\nWell, here's his cell. Don't laugh, don't laugh, please don't laugh...\n\n\"Mr. Ramsey? I have your last meal, as requested: A family-size can of B&M Baked Beans, and four Red Hots hotdogs with mustard and relish.\"", "\"ITS RAW YOU F***ING DOUGHNUT\" reverberating around the concrete halls and metal bars.\n\n\nA metallic clang as the plate and food hit the opposite wall, smearing potato and steak down to the floor.\n\n\nBob turned and walked to the other guard \"I know he is being fussy because hes a chef and its his last meal, but hes actually got some smarts, we cant kill him\nwithout him eating it.\"\n\nThe other guard narrowed his eyes and thought about it, then began to smile\n\n\"You know, i think... he's right\"\n\n.\n\nBob smiled for a second, then frowned \"Ive got to find another chef...\"\n\nEDIT: more detail.", "The click clack of heels echoed down death row. Shiny black pumps. Black pinstripe suit. Light makeup. With two guards walking behind her.\n\n\"This is unusual. We never see the warden down here,\" the first guard whispered.\n\n\"I know, right? She's got balls though, coming down here,\" the second guard replied.\n\nThe click clack of heels stopped as the warden turned to a cell. She looked up at the nearest camera. A moment later, the cell door buzzed open and she walked in.\n\n\"Hello Gordon.\"\n\nRamsey sat up on his bunk bed, a little confused.\n\n\"Given your little... gimmick\" Ramsey cocked an eyebrow at the word, \"we're legally forced to delay your execution as every 'last meal' we've provided has been... resoundingly unsatisfactory\" she said.\n\n\"So, I had an idea. A moment of brilliance really. You'll see in a bit.\" The warden promptly left the cell as the guards approached Ramsey and put a bag over his head.\n\nWhen the bag was taken off, Ramsey was seated in a chair in a dark room unable to see anything. He caught sight of a sliver of light in the corner of an open door, as his eyes adjusted to focus.\n\n\"Hello Gordon,\" said a voice on what sounded like a PA system. It was the warden's voice.\n\nSHOOM!\n\nThe room was flooded with light, forcing Gordon to block his eyes from the light. As his eyes began adjusting, he began to make out his surroundings. They seemed oddly... familiar.\n\n\"Now Gordon. We've recreated a set resembling your personal kitchen. There is a production crew ready to broadcast what's about to happen live and on the air. On the tabletop, you'll find the keys to the handcuffs.\"\n\nSure enough, Gordon looked on the tabletop and found a key sitting perfectly center on a chopping board.\n\n\"What the hell is this?\" Gordon yelled.\n\n\"We'll be going live in 2 minutes, Gordon. Now, listen.\" the warden's voice sounded... enthusiastic.\n\n\"You're going to cook your last meal for all the world to see. At the end of the next hour, you'll decide whether you live as a hypocrite or die as a master chef.\"\n\n\"... You sick, sadistic bitch.\"" ]	4
	[WP] I'm in love with my Scrabble partner.	[ "B-E-L-O-V-E-D\n\n\"21 Points\" I declare, smiling across the table at him as he mentally checks my addition. \n\n\"Very nice.\" He smiles politely, as he glances at his tiles. \"Allow me to riposte\"\n\nU-N-V-E-X-E-D\n\nHe lays the word across a triple letter score with a smile.\n\n\"I think that should do it.\" He says, jotting the number down on the score sheet. \"But let's see what you can do with it?\"\n\nI frown, trying to think of a witty response but nothing comes. Oh well, I think, I'll let my tiles speak for me.\n\nE-M-B-R-A-C-E-D\n\nMy tiles scatter across the table as my shaking fingers struggle to place them tidily. Finally the word takes its form.\n\nS-I-N-G-U-L-A-R\n\nThe response is instant. I lock eyes with him, and a little smoke seems to rise from his face. \"You'll have to do better than that,\" he says questioningly.\n\nP-L-A-I-N-T-I-V-E. I write.\n\nA-L-O-N-E. He responds. Only 11 points.\n\nE-N-A-M-O-U-R. 18 points. I smile.\n\n-E-D. He scores a double word score as he places it in the past tense.\n\nI sigh, exasperated. \"Well what about this?\"\n\nD-A-T-E. Nine points. I take the final tile from the bag.\n\nN-O. A triple word score. I gasp, and throw my own tiles on the table.\n\n\"Are you saying you wouldn't even consider it?\" I demand.\n\nHe looks up from the board. \"What do you mean?\" He asks. \"I was just trying to spell out 'novation' - it's 63 points!\"", "It started off simply. Anonymous matching, no chat window - we just played. My first word was \"frost\" - not brilliant, only sixteen points, but not bad for a first try. She hit back with \"rough\". \n\nIt was the best game I'd ever played. Not just because it was my highest score to date, but because of the competition. Normally, in Scrabble, one person pulls ahead. By about half way through, you know who's going to win. They hit a few triples early on, and then it's hard to catch up. That wasn't the case this time.\n\nIt was neck-and-neck, right up until the end. She was good - the best I'd ever played - but I was on fire as well. Word after word slammed down: \"zeugma\", \"entrails\", \"basenji\". I ended up two points ahead, but didn't celebrate. I just clicked \"rematch\". \n\nI'd enjoyed scrabble before, but now I was obsessed. At home on the couch, on the metro, even surreptitiously at my desk, I was playing scrabble. I'd check the app obsessively, hoping she'd responded. While I was waiting, I'd doodle endlessly, trying to come up with the best possible combination. I didn't want just to win, I wanted to impress her. \n\nWe played game after game, for months. Neither of us ever pulled ahead by more than a couple of victories in a row, and every game was close. I learnt new words every day, beautiful words that I would never use outside scrabble: \"euoi\", or \"cwm\". I learnt to say them, too, researching pronunciation while waiting for my next turn. \n\nShe was amazing. So knowledgeable, so creative with her words. And every time we interacted, there was that pulse-pounding, heart-racing buzz of competition, of challenge. It's no wonder I became curious about her.\n\nI used to picture her in my head, imagining my opponent. It changed all the time, flicking through a thousand possibilities with nothing concrete to fix on. It didn't matter to me what she looked like, really, I just wanted to know more about her. Finally, I cracked. First round of a new game, I threw away a perfectly good \"embark\" to just write \"name\". \n\nThe response was \"apple\". Not the most auspicious start. Perhaps she'd misunderstood, or didn't want to tell me, or just didn't have the letters for her name - maybe it was \"Tallulah\", or \"Eustacia\". \n\nFour turns later, I realised - \"apple\", \"not\", \"never\", \"else\": an acrostic. \n\nAnne. \n\nFrom there, I asked more questions. Not enough to cost me the game, or stop it being challenging, but if I had the letters to ask something - \"age\" (within five years of mine) or \"job\" (nurse) or \"pets\" (dog) - then I would. It took a little imagination - there was always the worry that she lacked the relevant letters, or that a question was understood as a word, not an enquiry. Still, over the passing of further months, I was able to ask (and answer) each question several times. I thought of repeated, relevant words within a few turns of the question as confirmed answers, slowly building up my knowledge of her. \n\n\"Where\" was a question I waited for a long time to ask. Partly because \"w\" and \"h\" didn't come up together that often, and partly because I knew it would change things. If she was half the world away, then all we could ever do was play scrabble. I wanted to meet her, but I almost didn't want to know if I couldn't. It would be better to have the dream than no hope at all.\n\nHer answer, when I finally asked, was an acrostic again. Luck was on my side, because she was able to name it straight away - no abbreviation, no waiting for a reply. \"leg\", \"oaf\", \"newt\", \"dig\", \"oval\", \"new\". London. The same city as me. \n\nIt was a shock. Not in a bad way, but a shock nevertheless. It suddenly all became real. She wasn't just the anonymous person I played scrabble with, but Anne - a living, breathing person living not too far away. I didn't respond for a while.\n\nI just stared - stared at the words on the board, stared at the possibilities they conjured up. She was real, and close. The woman I'd been dreaming about, imagining for over a year now. She actually existed. We could actually meet.\n\nMy hands were shaking as I dragged each tile into place. \"Meeting.\" \n\nIt was her turn now not to respond. I checked it every minute, for two days. I was reprimanded at work for losing focus. I didn't go swimming that week, because she might have responded, and I wouldn't have known until I'd finished. Still no reply. \n\nAnd then, after endless, agitated waiting, her word appeared: \"absolutely\", building off my \"lute\" and hitting two triple word scores. 135 points. \n\nShe won the game. I didn't mind. " ]	2
	[WP] Your life up to this point has been a hallucination. When you truly wake up for the first time, you wake up in a hospital room.	[ "Everything was glaring white and making my eyes hurt adjusting to the sudden brightness. I rested my head against the soft pillow and closed my eyes.\n\n\"Oh good, you're awake. Welcome!\" A smiling nurse in a pair of loose pants and a white tank top rounded the foot of my bed and grabbed my wrist to check my pulse.\n\n\"Where am I? What is this?\" I looked around the room for answers, but it was only white. I tried to sit up but the firm hand of the nurse pushed on my shoulder and I rested back into my pillows.\n\n\"Big J will be in to answer any questions you have, as for now you can just relax and know that everything is going to be all right.\" He smiled at me again and patted my shoulder.\n\nA little while later a man pushed through the rooms' swinging door, still talking to somebody in the hall as it swung shut. He turned to us and smiled, stretching his hands out like he was welcoming a long lost friend. \"I'm sorry to pull you out of your plans right now, but it was time.\" The man approached and grabbed my hand, squeezing it he sat on the edge of my bed and just looked at me smiling. \"I'm so happy you're here.\"\n\n\"Excuse you? Where is 'here'? What am I doing here? Who are you?!\" I looked between the two men surrounding my bed, wanting an answer.\n\n\"Everything's fine on my end, J.\" The nurse bowed to the man sitting on my bed and excused himself. Now I only had him to look at, he seemed strangely familiar like an old friend I wasn't quite sure was the right person. Soft blue eyes, an unkempt beard and long curly brown hair. The way this man kept smiling was a little unnerving, like he knew something I hadn't caught on to yet.\n\n\"Ask whatever you want child, I will never lie to you.\" It was like he knew what I was thinking. Was that possible? The man chuckled and stood up from the bed, turning to reach for me. I took his hands and stood with this strange man in this strange white room.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I had better start with the easiest one first.\n\n\"I am your guide, and I'm here to help you with anything you need. All you need to do is ask.\" Kind of a vague answer, It'll do I suppose.\n\n\"Where am I?\" Next obvious concern.\n\n\"You are somewhere many people only dream of being.\" I finally got a good look at the man in front of me. He had on simple white shorts, and a tight white tank top. He was barefoot and tan, like he had come straight from the beach to my bedside. His blue eyes almost sparkled with the white room, and everything seemed brighter around him, like he emanated a soft glow.\n\nI noticed how warm and soft his hands were, I was becoming aware of many things at once. I noticed how the floor felt soft like carpet but firm like tile at the same time, I could feel the slightest breeze brush against my skin, but there were no drafts. My eyes still hurt but I began to see colors seep into the corners of my vision, but when I turned to observe them they disappeared. I blinked over and over trying to get the ache to subside. I shook my head and rubbed my temples, \"Where is my mom? My car? Did I crash my car?\"\n\n\"What is a car, besides a thing? Your family will be fine child, don't worry about them right now.\" This guy was getting on my nerves. He took my hand again, such a warm hand. I felt his wrist, his bones under his tan skin, and ran my fingers up to his elbow. The feeling was like nothing I had ever felt, warm and soft but firm and strong as well. I was so confused. He put his arm around my shoulder and led me to the door he had entered through, it swung open when we got close and through it I could see nothing but white, and the faint trace of vibrant colors at the edges, I could hear nothing except the blood rushing through my ears and the mans breathing next to me.\n\n\"Open your eyes child, and see where you are.\" That was stupid, they were open. His hands were at my face, covering my eyes. I could feel their warmth and smell the... dirt? on his fingers. I breathed in his smell trying to make it out. The man chuckled and dropped his hands and my eyes blinked open, adjusting to the white, but it wasn't white anymore. There were people in front of me, lots of people! And they were all smiling, and they were all wearing white.\n\n\"I think it's all starting to make sense.\" I breathed in disbelief. \"I'm dead? Is this Heaven?\" The man just smiled. He needed to knock that off.\n\n\"You have been reborn among your everlasting family; Including me, our father, and all of our brothers and sisters.\" I looked past the people and could make out the fainest splash of color leaking in from the abyss, forming and creating a landscape in front of us. The people turned and watched as the world stretched out toward our group, painting the sky blue, white marble appeared in a splash beneath our feet, huge columns shot up around us, and trees sprouted from nothing in full bloom along the roads, birds flew past and other people appeared playing flutes and harps, and some playing guitars, some only walked past hand in hand with other people, children ran past playing. All in white. The sky filled in and the grounds came to a rest, and I couldn't take my eyes off of the man next to me. He was definitely glowing.\n\n\"Huh.\" Is all I could manage. The man next to me burst out laughing, it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, and other people turned at the ringing of his joy bouncing off of the marble, smiling as they heard it too.\n\n\"Let's get down to why you're here, shall we?\" He led me to a small table, and as we sat down two drinks appeared in front of us; a small cup of black coffee, and a cold glass of milk. I reached for the milk and took a sip, observing the man across from me. He looked thoughtful and wise beyond his young years, he smiled out into nothing as we watched a child playing with a small toy by his parents sitting on a blanket in the grass and sun. All I could see from this man was love and understanding in his eyes.\n\n\"Everybody has to come home at some point. For some people that point may not come for many life cycles, they will circle through the world learning and living until they realize I am the only way. The single way to come home. And when they understand that, and live a life that represents my love and teachings, I show them their lives and welcome them into my house forever.\"\n\n\"How many lives have I lived?\" I was trying to make sense of all of this. \"And how does that work?\"\n\n\"You live and die and live again, until your heart and soul accepts me and our father. Until you learn that you would keep living and dying on Earth, over and over again, sometimes many lives must be lived to learn one lesson.\" He looked into his lap, saddened by the thought of that, \"Some people take a very long time.\" He was quiet for a short while before he looked up from his lap and smiled once again, \"Do you see? Your 'life' is a test, it's that simple. Nothing on Earth is truly 'real' but an illusion for your decisions to play out in. You have your entire life to learn that your 'things' are just weights holding you to the ground, your 'job' is a shackle keeping you bolted to one place. We are meant to soar! And when you remember who I am and live for me and our father, then you are freed from the burdens of your 'life' and your true life can finally begin!\"\n\nI remembered then, I had a good car and an expensive phone, I was just starting to get somewhere in my job. I had a nice apartment and nice clothing, my friends were all alive somewhere, and my family. I also remembered the night my life changed like it was yesterday; over all the other things that night was the most clear in my head. I had drank too much and was lying next to the toilet puking, hating myself, wanting an escape from the pain. I remembered rolling on to my back and looking into the ceiling crying when a man appeared, this man across the table from me now. He was holding out his hands with a smile on his face, much like the one now. He had a glow around him then, just like the one he had now. I remember taking his hands and standing up, I remember how warm his skin was. I do not remember walking to my room and being put into bed. That was the last night I ever drank more than a glass of wine with dinner, and the first time I ever thought about my life and the world.\n\nIt was as if he were reading my mind, or remembering the same night possibly, the man answered, \"You took a long while, but you're finally here with me. I've missed you girl,\" He stood and walked around the table and helped me to my feet, \"but now you're here and that's all that matters.\" He pulled me into a hug and rested his head on mine, holding me tightly. I could only think of how he smelled like dirt, like he had just finished planting some flowers before coming to meet me in the white room and of how much I loved that smell. I thought about how warm he was, and how safe I felt, and how happy I was to be here with this kind and wonderful man. I thought about my family, my mother would be heartbroken but I knew she would get through it. She had her big house and her fancy car, all of her comforts would numb her pain, I'd seen it my entire life. Little did she know that her comforts would keep her caged forever, locked to her 'things' she would stay on Earth. Sensing my thoughts he hugged me tighter and said, \"She will come home to us, they all will, someday.\"", "Am I alive? I thought to myself as I remembered what’d just happened. \nWhat had happened? I remembered driving with my family. The skies were clear and the sun was rising. It was a good day. \n\nBut then there was the truck. Where did it come from?\n\nMy wife and kids. Oh God. Did they make it? Was it just me that survived? \n\nWhere were they? My head was spinning with questions even before I opened my eyes.\n\n\n “Commander?” I heard someone ask as my eyes struggled to focus. “Can you hear me?”\n\n\nI blinked a few times. There was a blinding light searing into my pupils, stinging my eyes and making them water. I managed a grunt of pain.\n\nEverything ached. Cold. He was cold. Freezing. My teeth chattered relentlessly.\n“Commander I need you to take a deep breath, can you do that for me?”\n\nI tried. But it felt like I was drowning and every breath I took was sucking in more water, pushing me under. My lungs burned and my throat was tight.\nI tried to move but it felt like my arms were made of lead and my legs were immersed in concrete. The world had started to spin.\n\n\n“I need some help here!” The voice said and I felt myself being pinned down.\nMy lungs were burning, I desperately needed air. I still couldn’t see, everything was blurry and out of focus. Stars dazzled behind my eyelids.\n\n\nIt was the cool press of metal against my arm, and the sharp stinging that made my heart beat even faster than before. I struggled again, managing nothing more than another grunt.\n\n\n“Commander, just calm down. Breathe.”\n\n\nThe stinging in my arm subsided, and slowly so did the pain. I took in a deep breath; sweet beautiful oxygen filled my ever burning lungs. Took in another, and another. Slowly I felt myself calming down; I took in big gulps of air like I would never be able to breathe again.\n\n\n“That’s it, Commander. You’re doing great.” \n\n\nI blinked a few more times, my vision slowly coming together. I relaxed slightly, and I felt the things holding me down let go and I was able to move freely.\n\n\n“Welcome back, Commander. That was a bit of a rough ride, huh?” \n\n\nThe person speaking came into view. She was attractive. Wearing a lab coat and blue gloves, her arms were folded.\n\n\nI swallowed bitter saliva, a disgusting aftertaste in his mouth. “W-where am I?” I croaked, voice raspy from disuse.\n\n\n“Take it slow. Memory loss is common upon waking up from Cryogenic Stasis. Can you move?”\n\n\nI only just noticed now that I was inside some kind of high tech pod. I attempted to sit up, but my muscles barely listened to me so all I was able to do was twitch slightly.\n\n\n“What’s going on?” I croaked, again my throat felt like sandpaper and my tongue was loose carpet flopping around uselessly in my dry mouth.\n\n\n“I know you have a lot of questions, Commander. And they will be answered. For now I need you to be patient. Just take it easy. You’ve been out for a while now.”\nA sudden horrible memory flashed before my eyes as I remembered with dread- the car accident.\n\n\n“My wife and kids, are they okay? Are they here? I want to see them.”\n\n\nThe doctor gave a quizzical look before writing something down on her clipboard.\n\n “Commander… you don’t have any kids, and you never married.”\n\n\n“What are you talking about?” \n\n\nWhy was this woman lying to me? Just what kind of hospital was this? \n\n\n“I assure you, all of your questions will be answered. I am not authorised to tell you anything until Commander Alpha One Seven gets here.”\n\n\nAll of this information, or lack thereof was giving me a headache. I pressed his palms against my eyes, hoping that whatever nightmare this was would just end. I could deal with being dead, but not with this.\n\n\n“Commander, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember.”\n\n\n“Why do you keep calling me that?”\n\n\nShe jotted something else down on the clipboard before sighing quietly. “That is your rank. Would you prefer me to call you by your name then?”\n\n\n“Yes.” I tried to sit up again, and was pleased that I was successful.\n\n\n“Comman-“ she stopped herself before finishing the word and helped my straighten up. “You need to be careful. We can’t lose you again.”\n\n\n“My name is Michael. Stop calling me Commander.”\n\n\nShe sighed again, “Okay. Michael then.” The doctor ran a hand through her frizzy short hair before taking off her gloves and shoving them into the pockets of her lab coat. “I’m Sierra.” \n\n\nBefore Michael could say anything else, a door opened off to the side and a bulky man stepped through. Sierra saluted and then walked to the back of the room, fiddling with a computer.\n\nThe bulky man had his hair shaved into a crew cut, the grey hairs poking through only just. His expression was stony but he managed to seem welcoming enough. The suit he wore was covered in medals to the breast.\n\n\nHe stopped a few feet from where I was sitting inside the pod and saluted. I saluted back, not really sure on what else to do.\n\n\n“Commander Bravo One Eight. It is good to see you again.”\n\n\nIt took me a few seconds to realise that the bulky man was talking to me. But before I could properly introduce myself, he started talking again.\n\n\n“The doctor has reported that you have acute memory loss. No matter, it happens to everyone at some point. I’m amazed it took you this long. Anyway, I am Commander Alpha One Seven, Zero Two.”\n\n\n“Where am I?”\n\n\n“On board The Equilibrium.”\n\n\n“What is that?”\n\n\n“A ship.”\n\n\n“Like a space ship?”\n\n\n“Affirmative.”\n\n\n“What am I doing here?”\n\n\n“You’ve been on board this beauty for almost two hundred years.”\n\n\n“That’s not possible. No human can live that long.”\n\n\nCommander Alpha pulled up a chair, “I can see this may take some time. Your mind is currently seeking out answers, and I understand that. Ask me any questions. You have a few minutes of my time, I have a lot of pressing duties in the command central.”\n\n\n“Start by telling me who I am.”\n\n\n“You name is Commander Bravo One Eight. When I enter Cryogenic Stasis you will become the commanding officer of this ship.”\n\n\nI shook my head. What this man was saying couldn’t be true. Not just an hour ago I was a simple lawyer taking my family on vacation. \n\n\nUntil the accident.\n\n\n“Where are my wife and kids?”\n\n\n“Bravo, you have never fathered any children, nor did you marry. The only family you had when you left earth was a dying mother who has long since passed.”\n\n\n“So you’re telling me that I am what? Two hundred years old?”\n\n\n“Not exactly, see your age isn’t defined in years. At least not while we’re in space. Age doesn’t matter. What does matter are your skills. You have the skills to command this ship and you must remember them. We simply just don’t have time. I don’t have time.”\n\n\n“But there was a car accident… I died-“\n\n\nBefore he could finish, Sierra rushed to them holding a huge syringe. “Excuse me, Commander Alpha. Commander Bravo hasn’t has his shot of Thycentemol yet. It should clear up his memory loss and answer these silly questions.”\nCommander Alpha stood up, “You should have given it to him the moment he woke up.”\n\n\n“With all due respect, Commander Alpha. But his body had a meltdown. We are lucky he is even conscious right now. The drug could have killed him had I given it to him when he woke.”\n\n\nThe Commander just nodded and put his hat back on his head, “I have to go now. Commander Bravo you just rest up. These next few days won’t be easy on you especially until you get your memory back.”\n\n\nSierra saluted again before he left. The doors opening and closing automatically.\n“What was that all about?” Michael asked, lying back down in the comfy pod.\nSierra shook her head, curly hair bouncing. “You’re lucky I saved you there.” \n\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“If anyone else found out that you can remember who you were in your dream, and that you can’t remember who you really are… well let’s just say that bad things would happen.”\n\n\n“So you’re saying my whole life up until now has been a dream then?”\n\n\n“Of course.”\n\n\n“But I remember so much. I was a lawyer. I had money and power. I remember growing up. I remember my mother and father.”\n\nSierra put on a fresh pair of gloves before picking up the syringe again. Flicked it with one finger and then cleaned my arm. “It’s how it works, Michael.” She said, inserting the syringe in as I gasped in pain. “Since we left earth, there has always been a cycle.”\n\n\nShe finished up with whatever she had injected me with and put a band-aid over the wound. I sat up again. \n\n“What cycle?”\n\n“It’s complicated.”\n\n“So uncomplicate it.”\n\nShe eyed me, as if she was silently assessing me like I was a petulant child. “You know, I liked you a lot better when you were in charge of me. You sure do ask a lot of questions.”\n\n“I just want some answers. Can you please just help me? Please.”\n\nSierra sat down on the chair only recently just vacated by Commander Alpha and ran her hand through her curly hair again. Something Michael noticed that she did when she was thinking seriously.\n\n“You will get your answers, Michael. But in the meantime I need you to pretend like you know what you’re doing. I need you to pretend that you remember who you were. Who you are.”\n\n“Why?” I paused and before she could reply I jumped in. “Because it’s complicated, right?”\n\nShe smiled slightly. I was amazed at how something so small could make \n\nsomeone seem so much more beautiful. “Exactly.”\n\n“So what now then?”\n\n“Now we wait. I know you don’t feel tired but your body does. Waking up from cryogenic stasis is a very exhausting process. Right now your body has to remember how to do everything, and the easiest way to let it do that is to sleep it off. I promise things will be a lot clearer after you wake up from a healthy amount of natural sleep.”\n\nI lay back down in the pod slowly. “And what if I don’t wake up?”\n\n“You will.”\n" ]	2

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