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
	[WP] "All you had to do was iron the fucking shirt!"	[ "I held Dan's lifeless body in my arms looked around at the desolation. Bodies everywhere. The explosion had destroyed much of the warehouse. Suddenly Dan coughed up blood and looked up at me.\n\n\"Peter! All you had to do was iron the fucking shirt! When will you-\"\nHe coughed up more blood. He was on his way out.\n\n\"When will you learn?!\"\n\n\"Me too, buddy, me too.\" I said distractedly as I scanned the area for a way out. I could already hear the sirens. I needed to find the keys to the getaway van parked outside. The keys had to be on one of these goons lying around. \n\n\"Peterrrr... How did this happen, I just told you to...\" I heard him croak.\n\n\"Shh. Dan...Dan, I'm here. Listen to me Danny boy.\"\n\nHe looked at me, waiting on my send off.\n\n\"Don't ever ask me for anything again.\"\n \n\"Peter, you fucking mor...\" \n\nHe fell limp in my arms and I made sure to book it before his ghost asked me to do the fucking dishes too. I found the keys between the charred bodies of the Yakuza members and the Russian Triad.\n\nI had 5 illegal things left to do today, all because Danny didn't want to iron his own fucking shirts. All things said and done though, I should have the shirt ready before he goes in at 5. \n", "\"All you had to do was iron the fucking shirt!\" she snapped at me, throwing the ironed shirt at my face, ironically creasing it again. I sat up from my sofa, mostly dazed. \n\nYou see, we were going to her mother's place for dinner. And the thing is, her mother and I have, well, a slight history. Nothing major, of course. Just that her mother is a crook. Well, that's an understatement. I'm a no-good waste of breath and she's... the boss. I didn't know I was dating her daughter till, well, till Mona showed me a picture of her and her mom. My boss. So, you can probably see why I do not want to go.\n\nAnyway, Mona rolled her eyes and strutted away. I thought it'd be best to break things off and escape the god-damn country. If Boss found out I had fucked her daughter - excuse my bluntness - I was pretty sure I wasn't going to live to see another day.\n\nSo when Mona disappeared into our bedroom, I dashed the fuck out our flat and threw myself out a window, plummeting to the floor in a heap. I brushed myself off, knowing the thud was too loud, and legged it the fuck away from that house. But, yeah... there's a reason I'm telling you this story.\n\nAs I scrambled away at top speed... in my moronic state, I bumped right into my Boss. Right in front of our house, just as Mona ran out to probably give chase.\n\n\"What the Hell Louis?\" Mona roared at me like some angry tiger cub. You know my mom?\" she added, breaking into laughter, eyebrows raised.\n\nMy Boss's arms were crossed. Mona reached us.\n\n\"Hi mom,\" she gave my Boss a tight hug. Boss gave her one back. \"I didn't know you meant you were coming here! Our flat is a bit messy, so you'll have to excuse it, okay? Anyway, I'm assuming you know Louis then?\"\n\nI looked at the Boss, the Boss looked at me, unreadable.\n\n\"No, never met him,\" she smiled pleasantly, much unlike the Boss I knew.\n\nAnd so began the worst dinner of my life. Let's just say, when Mona excused herself to the bathroom, I almost died of a heart attack...\n\n~~2000 WORDS LEFT OF MY ESSAY AND I'M HERE LOL WHY WHY HWY~~" ]	2
	[WP] Your wish of having dinner with any person alive or dead was just granted. Now you are eating with a pissed-off Albert Einstein since you can't answer the most basic physics questions.	[ "I look across and see Albert playing with his peas, arranging them in a pattern. I stay silent as it seems his frustration will only grow if I interject at this point. After what seems like an eternity, he looks up at me and lets out a tired sigh.\n\n\"Do you see ze way I've arranged zese--umm--zese peas?\" He asks with an abrupt tone.\n\nI look down and he has his peas in concentric circles around his mashed potatoes. Nervously, I nod.\n\n\"Good. Let ze potatoes represent our sun and let ze peas represent our planets.\" He flicks one pea off the plate. \"What prevents our planets from doing zis very thing?\"\n\nI freeze. Why can't I articulate the thoughts in my mind. Such intellect sits opposite me and I can't even muster up a coherent sentence. My face begins to glow a bright red. My arm pits begin to perspire profusely. My mouth gets dry. I reach for my water, take a sip and attempt to talk, \"well, um, given the sun's mass, it, um...\" He lets out a exasperated groan. I continue, \"it causes a distortion in...in...in...spacetime around it which causes smaller objects to, um, gravitate toward it.\"\n\nA sense of relief rushes through me. I was able to piece together something somewhat coherent. Albert takes another look at his plate, then back at me. His presence commands a certain amount of reverence and respect and it's entirely intimidating. Something about the way he carries himself, the way he moves his eyes to examine things, the way he thinks before he speaks puts his intelligence on full display.\n\nHis fork cuts into his mashed potatoes and he lifts it up to his mouth. \"In simplistic terms, yes,\" he mutters, muffled by the food filling his mouth. \n\nA subtle, yet comforting smile darts across his face. \"I'm making you nervous, aren't I?\"\n\nAgain, I nod.\n\n\"I apologize. Even ze most composed, intelligent, well-spoken person can turn into bumbling idiot when faced with social pressure. Zis seems to be ze case.\"\n\nGreat, now he thinks I'm a bumbling idiot. \n " ]	1
	[WP] Robots: a race in chains.	[ "The robot’s screams are all my fault.\n\t\nThe chains rattle as it seethes steaming air into my face. Every part of its being wants my head ripped off, but not because it hates me, or it’s locked away. No, that’s simply how I programmed it. Twenty humanoid robots strong enough to take on entire armies—and I accidentally made them monsters.\n\t\nEyes glued to the ground, my hands work diligently. Couple more wires rerouted and it’ll be sweet as can be. A perfect, caring machine meant to help. Will people ever see it like that, though? Probably not. My life’s work flushed down the drain because I was too damn impatient. Within dozens of cities ruined, and more dead, people are furious, terrified this is the start of something worse.\n\nBut this is the only one left.\n\nOutside, the mob’s beating my doors, screaming for me to tear it apart. But don't they realize it was my error which destroyed so many lives? My human error?\n\nIf they did, I suspect they’d tear me apart.\n***\nGreat prompt! :D\n\nIf you like this story, check out my sub! /r/LonghandWriter " ]	1
	[WP] World War 3 starts over a stolen bar of soap	[ "The talks had been on for the past week, and had gotten the Eastern Union and the Western Alliance no closer to a brokerage of peace than when Eastern Ships had seized the neutral Islands in the middle of the pacific, or when Western tanks had lined up along Brandenburg.\n \n \nAnother day.\n \n \nAnother bureaucratic stalemate.\n \n \n \nBoth parties, with the respective advisers and emissaries from the African Coalition and South American Commonwealths had come together in the frozen wastes of Antarctica. Along with being the only neutral ground, along with a lack of strategic importance, the heads of state from the East and West figured that with the image of a Frozen waste, may give a incentive of peace, less the talks fall through.\n\n\nHuddled around card tables in the former research post, the Ambassadors agreed to pick up talks and head to their sides of the stations living quarters. \n\nA side effect of having the talks where they were was the politicians would have to live in close quarters together, Certainly not the High end resorts the Western Ambassador had expected when he signed on for what may have been the most important talks in his lifetime but he figured it would all be alright once he could take a shower. \n\nGrabbing his duffel bag, and pulling out his toiletries, and he walks towards the showers. Once he strips down, he gets in, lets the water rush over him and, damn, forgot his soap. Not wanting to leave the warm refuge of the 3x3 space of legitimate warm, He made the rash decision to grab the bar of soap still sitting on the tray.\n \n**\n \nThe Eastern Ambassador was finishing his report to the Unions Comisar. Taking a sharp breath, he looks down at his bag, his undergarments thrown in a pile but then he takes note, his bar of soap is missing. \"Itvachcha\" he mutters to himself, getting on his slippers he shuffles his way to the showers to retrieve his forgotten bar of soap.\n \n*\n \nThe African Coalition took residence net to the showers as it was the last spot and as the representative was fully honest with herself, they had the most to lose but they were strategically useless in this event. She was finishing a Report to the Parliament when a Commotion started in the showers. Closing her laptop and tossing it on her bunk she started to walk into the showers, taken aback by the view of a naked Western Ambassador fighting with the Eastern Ambassador.\n \n\"YOU WESTERN PIG, FIRST YOU START WITH THE \nVA'DA QILINGAN ER, NOW MY SOAP\"\n \nThe Eastern representative growled, his chin and flabs rippling with each word.\n \n\"AH YOU FUCKIN COMMIE BASTARD\" choked the Western Ambassador, fruitlessly hitting the Easterner in the stomach to no avail.\n \nAs soon as it happened it was over, with a gunshot from the Commonwealths Ambassador, The eastern Representative slumped over, half his skull missing, the Western Ambassador lay dead, throttled by the Eastern man, and the African Looked down to note a growing red splotch in her stomach. \n \ncollapsing to the ground the Commonwealths ambassador grabbed the first aid kit. Using her time as a medic in her own armed forces, the Coalition Representative knew it was terminal, but also took a bitter solace in the fact that she would likely be the last to die with the start of the Third World war.\n \nNews, even in the Frozen tundra of Antarctica, travels fast. As the light began to fade, it was replaced by the old Cold war era missile tracking systems coming to life, announcing that thousands of launches had been detected. Within minutes the radios from down in the command center had gone to static as the world had reduced its self to the same state as the base sat in. \n \n \nThe world was killed that day, over a bar a soap. Her last thought was it would have been funny if it wasn't so pathetic, but hey, she was a dead women anyway, so might as well go out laughing with the last of her strength, might be the last time anyone* laughs for a long time." ]	1
	[WP] Aliens invade earth with new technology that makes everyone rhyme like Dr. Seuss.	[ "\"I hate these new things, yes I do. I hate these new things just like you!\"\n\nI spat with venom at the star reavers; at these aliens with their Martian beavers. Mighty beasts that they ride to battle, and keep us docile like herded cattle.\n\nIt was the same all over the world, no place was safe from the Kurled. A star empire of menacing creatures, they took us over with built in features. It seemed so shiny and so nice, we didn't really see the price. We started to notice after just a few days that we couldn't control what we wanted to say. It caused confusion and delay, trying to figure phrase things a specific way. Soon no one could do their jobs, we just wandered around in rhyming mobs. There was no fighting off their plan to bring about the fall of man. \n\nFor many years they watched and listened then their stellar cargo ships they did christen. A glaring flaw was found in our way of life that they could twist to cause great strife. More to help us with our day that would listen to everything we say. Soon it wasn't just in our homes, but could be implanted in our domes. A small incision, a chip, all fueled by hype. All our information browsed with thought not swipe. \n\nWith great horror we saw the hidden play, we were bound by their insidious EULA (End-User License Agreement). No escape because we clicked yes, forever hostage to these cosmic \"guests.\"\n\nI can't say that the new regime is all shitty because you can get exclusive options for just three fitty.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Death has had an easy time collecting souls, until humans decided to go into space. Now he need his own space program.	[ "“Mayday, mayday, this is the GES Phoenix! We are under assault in outer sector Foxtrot-Zulu-Niner by Void ships, requesting backup by anybody out there!”\n\nThe Phoenix hurtled through space as the crew frantically scrambled to man the weapons, all the while as explosions shook the bulky frame of the ship.\n\nThe captain shook his head in disbelief. Only a few minutes ago, they had been in perfectly fine condition, following their designated shipping path. However, they were shipping outside the safezone of the Empire, and after a natural storm kicked up in the middle of their planned route, he had decided to avoid it by venturing a little deeper into the dangerzone.\n\nIt was an ill-calculated risk.\n\nAnother round of explosions shook the ship, and outside of the forward window, the captain could make out the outline of two light assault ships against the starry backdrop, painted in pure black and engraved with the ominous symbol of the Void. It was not a sign he had ever hoped to see.\n\nSuddenly, the radio sparked to life. “Captain, I read you,” the voice said. It was barely distinguishable from the static, but was still a relief for the captain to hear. “This is patrol ship Serus of the Fleet of the Golden Empire. Stay strong for as long as possible, we’re on our way!”\n\n“Acknowledged.” The captain glanced outside again. His vessel was armored as per all shipping vessels in the outer sector, and was armed with some light cannons, but it was hardly a match for even these light military craft. “All hands on deck!” he shouted into the microphone. “Our priority is to stay alive as long as possible! Focus shields on our engines, and concentrate fire on their cannons!”\n\nThe Phoenix turned and nosedived, boosting in a direction perpendicular to the Void ships’ line of fire to avoid cannon fire and to hide its engines. However, the enemy was relentless, and the two Void ships split up with intention to flank. Damn it, the captain thought. They’re faster than us too.\n\nSuddenly, emergency alarms lit up, turning the bridge a deathly shade of red. The captain glared at the ship’s damage graph, his breathing fast and his heart rate spiking. Hull breach, port cargo hold. Starboard engine down. Things were going downhill fast. They were completely flanked by now, and the radio channel was frantic.\n\n“Help on aft cannons!”\n\n“Our shields are down, I repeat, shields down!”\n\n“We have an uncontained fire in starboard engine room 2!”\n\n“Damn it! Ammunition leak in starboard munitions room! Lock it down, now, NOW!”\n\nThere was no time to react. \n\nAmmunition leaks and uncontained fires were a recipe for immediate disaster. The captain had only a split second to turn before a deafening noise roared into the bridge, followed by a firestorm that engulfed him and the rest of the officers in its blinding white glare, tearing at his skin with its searing heat.\n\nAnd then…\n\n...and then everything stopped.\n\nOnly a ringing in his ears and a feeling of uncomfortable coldness gripped the captain as he slowly took in his immediate surroundings. The ship was in pieces, and debris filled the space around him, frozen in place. The fire was gone, and so had his assailants. Even the stars that he had grown so used to were missing, leaving only a blank, cold void to fill the vastness of space.\n\n“...sir?”\n\nIt was the voice of his lieutenant, his right-hand woman who had been by his side for near as long as he had owned the Phoenix. She had been at shield control, in the room right behind the bridge. The captain, still dazed, turned. By all logic, the two of them should have been dead, or at least suffocating in the emptiness of space. Yet here they were, completely unharmed.\n\n“What… what happened?” The lieutenant asked. “And… where are we? Are we dead?” \n\nThe captain could only shake his head in response. “I don’t know. This doesn’t look like any heaven or hell that I know.”\n\nA few minutes - or was it an eternity? - seemed to pass in silence as the two contemplated their situation. The bridge of the ship had been torn apart from the rest of the ship, but the rest of the body was visible, torn and wrecked, a dozen meters away. There was no movement. It seemed none of the crew had made it to this empty, forsaken part of space.\n\nThen a glimmer of light in the empty void to the right of them. Both the captain and the lieutenant held their breath as suddenly, a strange ship warped in right besides them.\n\nIt was an elegant ship, with curving arcs of metal outlining the smooth, silver plating of a starship. An airlock on the side slid open, and behind it, a dark figure could be seen, draped in robes of black and carrying a tall, intimidating scythe. Yet, the captain felt no fear.\n\n“Death?” The lieutenant asked timidly. \n\nThe figure nodded, pulling back its hood to reveal an old man, his hair long and grey. He hobbled over to them, using his scythe as a walking stick, crossing the void between the two ships like it was solid ground. “Ah,” he said in a surprisingly gentle, aged voice. “The captain of the ship and his faithful lieutenant! Your crew certainly had a lot of praise to give you, and I reckon they’ll give you a hearty welcome when they see you again.”\n\n“My crew?” The captain asked. He blinked, surprised. “You’ve spoken to them?”\n\n“As I have with those who have passed, and as I will to all still to come. In fact, your crew is waiting for you,” he pointed with his scythe towards the ship. “In there. Just follow me.”\n\nHe began hobbling back, and the captain and lieutenant slowly followed. The silence and the void around them was calming, and felt as if it was all a dream.\n\n“I... I didn’t realize Death needed a starship,” the captain tentatively remarked.\n\n“Ah, this piece of junk?” the old man laughed. “Well a man’s got to get around to finish his duties. I couldn’t walk through space to reach you, could I?” He let out a sigh. “Not since you humans left Earth, at least. Plus, it’s a lot faster now, too… you wouldn’t want to have waited half a year for me to reach you like it sometimes did, right? Back in those days… yes, I remember them clearly.”\n\n“Well, I think it looks very nice,” the lieutenant said.\n\n“You are too kind, dear,” Death replied.\n\nThey had reached the entrance to the ship, and by now, many, many voices could be heard… all of them familiar ones.\n\n“The captain!”\n\n“He’s back, guys!”\n\n“Man, I thought we’d never see him again.”\n\nThe three figures walked into the ship to be greeted by a sea of joyful faces. The insides of the ship were huge and welcoming, staffed by a literal skeleton crew that could be seen on catwalks far above. Death smiled. “I told you they’d give you a hearty welcome.” He tapped on the wall, and the airlock behind them closed. “I don’t know what sentimental thoughts you may hold for your ship back there, but this will be the last time you see it. We leave in fifteen minutes.”\n\nThe captain and lieutenant watched as the old man hobbled away towards the front of the ship, the crew members parting to let him through.\n\n“Where are we going?” The captain asked.\n\nDeath kept walking, but turned back to speak with a smile on his face. \n\n“Away.”\n\n****\n\nThe starlight twisted for just a moment as the GES Serus* warped in on high alert, its weapons at the ready for any threat that lay before it.\n\nBut they were too late.\n\nThere wasn’t a single trace of the Void ships’ presence, and the only sign that a calamity ever befell the area was the ruins of the Phoenix, its broken hull drifting, abandoned, through the cold reaches of space.\n", "\"So,\" Death said to the Devil. \"How's the deal coming along?\"\n\nThe Devil sighed while nervously stroking his chin. \"Look Death, we're good pals, and I told you I was going to do you a solid. But...it's really fucking hard to get to space, you know that?\"\n\n\"I mean, if bloody mortals can do it, why can't you? Especially when you have access to all the evil humans who've ever died.\"\n\n\"Rocket scientists, as it turns out, don't usually end up committing sins serious enough to end up in Hell. The worst things most of them do is a rounding error.\"\n\n\"Alright, but how about all the Nazi rocket scientists?\"\n\n\"Yes we've got some of them. I've managed to convince Wernher von Braun to work on your rocket.\"\n\n\"That's good right? I mean he's no Einstein...but he's clever?\"\n\n\"I suppose. Only...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"He's a pacifist now. He turned over a new leaf last year after watching Hacksaw Ridge. Won't build proper rockets anymore.\"\n\n\"Blood hell,\" Death said, throwing his sickle onto the ground.\n\n\"I hate it when you say that,\" the Devil whispered under his breath.\n\n\"Besides von Braun, what other options do I have?\"\n\n\"Well, you can always talk to the big man upstairs,\" the Devil said, with a finger pointed towards the heavens. \"He's got loads of the smart ones. They'll get you a space program up and running in no time at all.\"\n\n\"Cmon, Devil. You know I hate talking to God. He's such a prick.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Death. Like I said we go way back. But there's only so much I can do.\"\n\nDeath slumped his shoulders and picked up his sickle. I guess he didn't have any choice. \"Which way is Heaven again?\" The Devil pointed him down one lava river. \"Go down a couple hundred miles, you'll see the Stairway on your right.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Devil.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You're a fairy. For centuries your people have told stories of strange creatures known as giants that, if a contract of servitude is made with, grants fairies the power to use magic. Stumbling through the forest you discover a large person with no wings.	[ "\"The Fah-ree people have lived upon the Earth since the creation. We have striven to become the balance of the world. Our efforts to control the ebb and flow of mother Earth's fury and splendor has been a tumultuous battle.\" the instructor paces around the circular stage, her students sitting cross-legged on large pillows as she speaks, their eyes focused. She takes a sip of water and smiles to the class, dims the lights, and continues.\n\n\"Our existence, hidden from the lower realms, is one of harmony and suffering. The Fah-ree people have been adamant about the existence of sacred pacts throughout history. These pacts with the lower density species has created a unique twist in our reality.\" she waves her hand effortlessly in the air. A series of lively images appear in the center of the room. She walks to the side as the image of a large human man appears in the center of the stage. It flickers, as if distorted from his realm and theirs. Some of the students gasp, the other shuffle in their seats.\n\n\"Mankind. One of the most interesting of lower density beings in the universe. A true marvel for life in the lower realms. They are capable of many wonderful things as well as terrible. The knot of their karma wraps around them like a noose that they cannot see. Their artistry is unrivaled as every single human seems to have the innate gift of the creative realm and it manifests differently for each.\" she circles the platform in front of her students. The image of the human transforms into a myriad of poses, emotional states, and situations. It finally ends in an image of a man dying from a sword wound.\n\n\"But with all their splendor, they are a cursed race. They are given the light to carry Life throughout the universe and they squabble amongst themselves, ignorant to their ultimate purpose.\" she finishes and closes her eyes. The sound is deafening. The images fade into the air and the lights dim back on. She steps down from the platform and beckons the students to follow her. They abide. \n\nWings of a variety of tessellations and colors glimmer from the backs of the students. The patterns mesmerizing and divine, sway slightly as the class makes their way to the contemplation room. The teacher takes a seat in front of the class upon her pillow and the rest follow, taking no preference to seating arrangement, eyes fixed on their instructor. \n\n\"As we have learned over these past eight cycles, humans, animals, lower spirits of ghosts, and hell-beings all contain the miracle of the pact.\" she prepares a small glass of tea from a teapot next to her and takes a small sip.\n\n\"The Fah-ree once participated in these pacts, but as time flowed, our connection with the lower realms grew further apart. The space between our hearts and our karma began to expand exponentially and our connection to the lower densities grew.\" she ended, placing the teacup down. The students faces went from wonder to sadness.\n\n\"It is said that for a Fah-ree to make a pact with the lower density species known as a human, the universal energies that once bound us with once again be reunited and the lifeblood of existence, the mana of miracles, will be returned to us.\" she says, looking to a particular student sitting amongst the other.\n\n\"The humans of the descendants of Ariyk, known in the common human tongue as Giant, are said to be the bridge between us and our lost intuitive abilities, otherwise known as magic. No one has seen a Ariyk to common recollection.\" she finishes\n\nA student's hand shoots up from the class nearly as soon as she is finished. The teacher patiently looks towards the student.\n\"Yes, Everyd?\" she says\n\"Ma'am, I do not understand. Why would someone not just try to talk to a human?\" Everyd asks.\n\"Humans are lower density beings. Their minds cannot handle the influx of our presence. It is said that the interaction with the lower density causes intense conflict in the mind of the human, causing them pain, suffering, and sanity. Their minds simply are not cultivated to allow for a truly unique experience to befall them without the immediate desire to use such an interaction to their materialistic and egoistic advantage.\" she says frankly. The student looks upon the teacher with sadness.\n\"That's very sad. We could help them, couldn't we? And in the process gain our abilities back?\" she questions. The teacher seems moderately conflicted.\n\"It is a noble effort and thought.\" the teacher replied. The echoing sound of a single vibrating bell reverberated across the hallways and rooms. It was the signal for their session to be over. \n\n\"Everyd, wait up!\" a young fah-ree yelled from the top of the stairs leading to the courtyard.\nEveryd turned slightly and waited. His wings seemed to vibrate lightly, the light of the sky echoing off the myriad of colors in his tessellations. He carried a scaled satchel across his shoulder and adjusted it as his friend Ina got closer. She seemed slightly out of breath.\n\"Where are you going Everyd?\" she asked, looking his bag suspiciously.\n\"To the Ankhor.\" he replied calmly. Her eyes widened with worry and awe.\n\"You are not planning on leaving are you?\" she asked worriedly.\n\"I am.\" he replied.\n\"You heard what teacher said. Plus, you don't know where you'll end up. You could be trapped down there forever!\" she exclaimed, catching the attention of passerby students.\n\"I know, i'll be fine.\" he replied. \n\nShe stood silently anxious. He took her hand calmly in his and looked in her in the eyes.\n\"I know what going down in density means. I know what it does to us. But I can't sit her, learning about all of this, hearing all of the rumors, and do nothing.\" he dropped her hand and began walking backwards to his destination with disciplined eye contact. \n\"I know it'll suck for a while. I know I can get lost in the desires of humanity, but I can also find great peace, adventure, and maybe even truth, like teacher always speaks about. I can't do that here, Ina, it has to be done not studied. Thank you for your help and concern.\"\n\n\n \"You'll never find Ariyk! It's a waste of time!\" From the distance she screams out to him.\nEveryd smiles and waves over his shoulder. ", "She stood there, tall like an oak. A deer in the headlights. No sounds were made except the low hum of my wings fluttering, the whistling of the spring birds, and the wind blowing among the tree tops. The nearby storm must have brought her to seek shelter in the forest. Beside her lied some sort of structure made of huge fallen trees. A shelter. This went against what the tales said. Giants were supposed to be dull; only capable of killing, some mumbled speech, and of course, their ability to grant magic. Just from her gaze I knew this must not be so. She was afraid of me. A thirteen foot beast was afraid of a three foot fairy. Why was this so? I had to speak. My heart hammered. My muscles constricted trying to come up with something to say. \n“H-hello!”\nThe giant stared. But still, she made no movement. Perhaps they really were dumb. I decided maybe it would be best if I came up closer. After all, if anything happened I could easily fly away. No way this creature could catch me. Slowly I approached, like the way a boy does when he’s befriending a stray dog. Somehow, her body tightened up even more than it already was. Her hand reached for one of the huge branches in her collection the size of a human. \n“I’m not here to hurt you!” I yelled. “The storm is coming quick! This whole forest is going to come down if it keeps heading this way! I’m going through to help anyone I can. Please, what’s your name?”\nHer body became more relaxed as an eyebrow raised with curiosity. \n“Helga stay away from fairy. Fairy bad. Fairy enslave giant” she growled. I was confused. Enslave? What was she talking about? \n“I promise I’m not here to enslave anyone! What brings you to say that?” I asked, genuinely curious.\n“Giant lives long time. Helga sees the death and destruction of her family. Fairies do this. Fairy smart. Fairies trick giants into thinking friends. Friends not. Use magic for bad. Try to kill Helga. Kill rest of friends and family. Torture them until they give them magic. Helga go to deep slumber to hide. Now, she last giant.” Her head weighed down. Obviously memories were drifting into her mind. It’s true. The tales of giants said they did live much longer than a fairy, even going up to a thousand years. It was a rare commodity for a fairy to live past fifty. But was what she said true? Among all of the races, fairies were the most peaceful. \n\n\nOkay, I had fun writing, but something came up and I can’t finish. I will another time. This is also my first WP and I’m typing on mobile, so go easy!", "Cela didn't care what her aunt and uncle said. She was going. \n\nHer wings blurred with speed as she pushed further and further into the dark parts of the forest. They would soon know she was missing. they would know where she'd gone. She had to hurry and cross the barrier line before they caught her. Once there they wouldn't dare follow.\n\nThey said only tragedy answered those who sought the giant, but what if tragedy was all you've ever known? Cela had never sought for her parents to die in a fire. She'd never sought for her friends to be stolen away in the middle of the night. Yet those things had come to her. they had brought their pain and their suffering to her.\n\nIf the giant killed her, then so be it. At least she wouldn't be a curse upon any other. \n\nCela shot past a row of small stakes. They each had a design woven in vines between them, intricate and disturbing. The barrier: the last line before the Dark Hollow. \n\nCela felt her wings shiver as she passed through. Old magic lingered here. It caught on to the senses, sending sparks shooting through her arms and legs. Her hair felt strange as well, like there was a power gathering around it. \n\nShe pushed onward. The trees were thicker here, older and twisted. Their branches like gnarled fingers with bulbous knuckles and ragged, broken nails. She weaved through the tangle, dodging thorny brambles and massive lichen colonies along the way.\n\nThen the world opened... not to light, but to a different shadow. Far above the trees were woven together so tightly that only the thinnest rays of light leaked through. \n\nAnd in the center of the place... The Giant.\n\nCela stilled her wings and landed on a piece of long grass. The giant was massive. It was bigger than the largest bear in the forest. She had never seen anything like it before in her life. It's skin was like grey bark, rigid and splintered with cracks that ran parallel to each other. It's shoulders carried leaves the size of her whole village. Moss grew over it's feet and hands, thick and green.\n\nIt turned to look at her. There was no light in it's eyes, only an unfathomable darkness.\n\n*What has brought you here, little one?\n\n\"They say you have old magic!\" Cela yelled as loud as she could, \"They say you have the power of the forest itself!\"\n\nThey are correct.\n\n\"I need magic!\" Cela stood straight on the blade of grass, \"My family is dead, my friends have been stolen. I need magic to bring them back!\"\n\nThe giant watched her with it's shadowed eyes for a long moment. Then it laughed. \n\nThe sound boomed off of the trees around them, shaking the leaves and the grass. Cela stumbled and fell as even her perch shuddered under the sound. She tumbled and hit hard on an exposed root below her.\n\nTaken, were they?\n\nThe giant lifted one of its feet from the ground. Roots stretched from it to the earth as it moved. He leaned forward over Cela until it's face obscured everything above her.\n\nDo you know where they were taken to?\n\n\"No!\" Cela stood up again, staring into the darkened eyes, \"But I will find them!\"\n\nThe giant laughed again, a small, low laugh that shook the very bones in Cela's body.\n\nThen I will help you find them.\n\n\"You will!\" Cela took to her wings and flew closer to the face above her, \"Thank you!\"\n\nI would not offer thanks so quickly. Not yet, at least.\n\nThe giant drew back to its full height. It lifted a great arm and reached up into the canopy. It pulled something from the trees. Cela couldn't see what it was at first. The stray rays of light leaking above stabbed into her eyes, blinding her. She could tell that it was round, woven tightly from twigs and branches.\n\nThen she heard the screams. \n\nShe heard her name shouted at her. \n\nShe heard cries of terror.\n\nThe cage dropped down in front of her. Her friends all clung to the bars, their forms just barely more than skeletons. Their starving faces pressed against the wood that entrapped them, arms reaching out. They screamed for her to run.\n\nNow you have found them\n\nCela looked on in horror as the root she'd been standing on before sprouted a dozen branches and wrapped itself around her body. She tried to flee but she was too stunned to even move.\n\nWell done.*" ]	3
	[WP] There's a business that allows people to talk to future versions of themselves. You decide to use this service in order to figure out where you'll be ten years later. But there is no you ten years later.	[ "There was no me nine years later either. Or eight. Or seven. Six. Five.\n\nPanicking, I tried one year later. There was no me there either.\n\nNo me in six to twelve months either.\n\nIn fact, there wasn't even another me a week from now.\n\nOr a day.\n\nI could've went into hours, but I didn't. \n\nThe business owner was apologizing. \"I'm so sorry,\" he said. \"I...I've never seen this happen before.\"\n\nAs I left, on both sides of me, people were happily chatting with their future selves - discussing mistakes that they were going to make and how the trick was to not avoid them, but manage the situation better. \n\nI noticed, too, that people were starting to turn in\ntheir seats and look at me with odd expressions as I passed. I didn't know why. I didn't care.\n\nAll those stories that said if you knew when you were going to die, you would live life to the fullest? Bullcrap.\n\nMaybe if I had a week. There were places I wanted to travel. I wanted to go skydiving, scuba diving, hiking mountain climbing, etc.\n\nBut I only had a day. Less than a day. To do what?\n\nI went to a bar and got drunk. Then I went to a gun store and got loaded. Then I went back to the business and locked the doors.\n\nThe people that had watched me leave were all gone. Probably warned by their future selves about what I was going to do. But there were still people - people that had just come in, excited like I had been, to see what their future held for him.\n\nI hoped they were all disappointed. I purposely came to disappoint them. Nobody was living past today. If I was going to die, everyone was going to die with m-\n\n\"Put the gun down NOW!\" \n\nThe people I had been about to kill? You guessed it. Undercover cops. Probably alerted by the people that had already left that a crazy, depressed madman was going to come in and shoot the place up.\n\n\"I said PUT THE GUN DOWN NOW!\"\n\nEvery cop in the place had a gun. And every gun in the place was pointing at me. Except for my gun. My gun just hung there like a limp dick. \n\n\"I WON'T REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN, SIR! PUT THE GUN DOWN OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO SHOOT!\"\n\nI suddenly realized how I was going to die.\n\nI lifted the gun.\n\nI closed my eyes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] A new chamber was found in the Great Pyramid and a human was found hibernating.	[ "\"Here's a headline: Living Mummy Discovered in Egypt\" \n\"No, that sounds straight from the tabloids.\" \n\"Whole thing sounds straight from the tabloids\" he said, gesturing towards the rest of the chamber. \nThe room was filled with people, scientists, doctors, journalists, archaeologists, and, lying silently upon the slab, a man in a deep slumber. When they had first opened up the newly discovered tomb, they had assumed that they had come across something which had been impossibly well preserved, the pinnacle of mummification, until they heard the breathing. \nHe was dressed strangely, even for the time period, and was covered in gold jewelry to rival even the wealthiest pharaohs. \n\"I don't know what to say. Nobody's going to buy any of this.\" \n\"That's because no one is going to hear about this.\" The two turned to face the man who had interrupted them. He was dressed in black flowing robes, but had his face obscured. \n\"What do you mean? this is the greatest discovery in human history!\" \n\"That you've seen maybe,\" he remove his hood to reveal an aging, scarred face. \"I'm afraid I can't allow you to reveal any information on this little...'discovery' of yours.\" \n\"You can't make us do that.\" \n\"Oh, I can, and I will. One way,\" he revealed a gun on his hip \"or another.\" \nThere was a sudden commotion from within the chamber. An inhuman snarl followed by shouts. They turned to look, and soon wished they hadn't. The man was awake, and was tearing at anyone who was near him. He looked inhuman now, with his red eyes and shark like teeth. There was a doctor in the corner who was bleeding rather heavily. Soon everyone had moved to the edges of the room, chatting nervously as they eyed the creature. \nHe was crouched over on his ancient slab, staring daggers at everyone in the room as he incomprehensibly muttered an ancient tongue. \nThe man in black robes pushed past the two into the chamber, and creature locked eyes with him. He unfurled his robes and revealed a gilded scimitar, adorned with stones of every color, and etched with runes. \nThe monster howled and leaped towards him, its claws ready to strike him down. \nThe man in the robes barely flinched, and swung the bejeweled blade through the creature's chest. \nIt collapsed on the sandy floor in front of him, though without even a trace of the mortal blow. Not a drop of blood had stained the blade. There was silence in the chamber, save for the sound of the monster's breathing. \nThe man in black unceremoniously dumped it back on its slab. \n\"Now everybody out\" he barked." ]	1
	[WP] "Welcome to prison", the warden said "Was his death worth it?"	[ "“All human life has innate value.” I reply.\n\n“Then why?”\n\nAnd a sadness befell me. A sadness derived not from punishment or regret, but from realization. In me something has died. Optimism maybe. Or faith. In God. In myself. In people. And I smiled at him thinly. With this death came an apathy. My world was now a void, tinged only blue. A part of me still wanted to tell him. To justify myself. But it lay deep in the Tartarus of my mind, and I could not reach it.\n\nHe lay a hand on my shoulder, and his lips curled at the edges. But it was his eyes, the warmth there, that coaxed forwards my response. I could not reach it alone, and I think he knew that, and so he helped me.\n\n“All human life has innate value. But I have accepted fully that humans are also innately flawed. The struggle for perfection is lost to me. Had I been perfect, had any of us been perfect, life could have been preserved. All life, not just the one I have taken. There is always a better path, but I do not believe I am sufficiently capable of finding it, nor do I have the strength or the restraint to walk it. The best I could do resulted in a death, and for this I am truly sorry. If I was better, things might have been different, but I’m not. I am only me, and limited for it. So yes, it was worth it, and yes, I regret it, and no I am not happy with this result.”\n\nHe nodded, gravelly, before replying.\n\n“You will do your time, friend. That is non negotiable. But I understand. I do. And it is not punishment that you truly need friend. No, it is hope.”", "\"Was his death worth it?\"\n\nThe warden's question brings dozens of memories to the front of my mind, most of which I would have preferred to forget. Shots, surgeries, hundreds of hours of brutal training. All that work, just to be used for a single task and thrown away once the start of the next project began.\n\nI shudder at what I've been through, but more importantly what I've put others through. The families I've torn apart just to get better materials. \n\nNo, not materials. People. We where taking loved sons and daughters from their homes and using them like a canvas for our own twisted paintings.\n\nMy own tortured conscience was finally able to get through to me. But my partner refused to listen to reason, so I had no choice but to stop him before he started our next project.\n\nThe warden would never know the extent of my crimes. I tell myself I made the right call to keep our creations secret, that they didn't deserved the consequences there would be if they where ever found. A small part of me prefers to think I just didn't want to get scooped up by some agency or another to commit the same atrocities for them.\n\nAll I had been convicted of was a single murder. One which I fervently plead guilty to, and loudly requested a death sentence I was denied. Instead I got 40 years in prison and mandatory counseling.\n\nThe officers who brought me here tried to scare me with stories of what horrors where inside. Compared to the horrors I had made for our victims, this was a tropical vacation.\n\n\"Hey, you listening to me convict? I asked you a question.\"\n\n\"His life was worth less than the ants you're currently standing on.\" I reply. \"No matter what your files say, I'm here to serve penance for much more heinous sins. And this does not even begin to cover it.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Write a short story riddled with annotations from an editor who basically disagrees with everything the author is trying to express.	[ "Emerald was a normal high school girl for the most part. She got good grades, had friends, did her homework, and balanced it well with her home life. ^mary ^sue, ^anybody? ^and ^this ^is ^so ^cliché, ^re-write ^and ^reconsider ^the ^character.\n\nHowever, there was one thing about her that not even her best friend knew. ^ooooh, ^perfect ^girl ^with ^a ^dark ^secret? ^where ^I ^have ^seen ^that ^before... ^except ^everywhere?\n\nEmerald was not like other girls. ^are ^you ^kidding ^me??\n\nNo, you see, Emerald was a demon. ^oh ^my ^god\n\nAnd not just any demon. ^is ^she ^Satan's ^daughter? ^please ^don't ^say ^that\n\nEmerald was the daughter of Hades and Hades had sent Emerald to live with the human family who adopted her because... well because he needed her to do an up to date study on humans since the last one was over 200 years ago. ^you ^make ^me ^want ^to ^quit ^my ^job. ^a ^study? ^seriously? ^that's ^her ^evil ^task?\n\nEmerald took it very seriously. In fact, that's why she was such a good human. She figured the best way to learn about humans, was if she acted like them as well. And it was going great. ^of ^course ^it ^was\n\nThat is...\n\nUntil her little brother found out she got the mission instead of him.\n\n\n^I ^QUIT. ^YOU ^SERIOUSLY ^MADE ^CLICHE ^STORY ^ABOUT ^A ^DEMON ^SIBLING ^RIVALRY?\n\nEdit: formatting" ]	1
	[WP]You are a wizard being hunted by magic immune wizard hunters. You have chosen to make your stand in a place filled with wild magic and nothing is immune to wild magic. The catch is no one can control wild magic either so when you cast a spell you have no idea what will happen.	[ "The Temple of Time, as some of the rebellious wizards engrossed in video games liked to call it, was one of the eighty world-wide locations in which magic in its purest form was created. In this form, it was volatile, dangerous, and any ‘magic’ known to man could not control it. This raw form of magic before it dissolved into the more controllable forms of magic was named Wild Magic. All eighty locations were shut down to anyone and made illegal by the High Majistry, a group of wizards which oversaw the safety and politics world. It was said that something as simple as casting a mere glimmer in a 50-mile radius of Wild Magic could twist and mutate the spell, creating what was most likely to be disastrous results. Arguably, being here would be one of the worst places for a wizard, and yet here I was. Standing on top of podium and roughly right above the opening in which newly created Wild Magic was expelled, and surrounded by hunters.\n\n\"Well, well, well. Did you finally decide to stop running?\" One of the wizard hunters in front of me mocked and laughed as the rest of the large group behind them laughed alongside him. I watched them begin to take out their weapons from their holsters. Even though I didn’t know any spells higher than the third level of complexity, any wizard could quickly identify the the magic-immune symbols engraved upon their weapons, clothing, and jewelry, which were ironically made with magic. My grip on my spellbook grew tighter as I looked around at them nervously. The type of magic that I used was old-style, compared the some of the other wizards who intertwined technology with their spells, using tomes and books instead of programs and assist units. There had long been a miniature war between modern and traditional magics, surprisingly started by the modern magicians. However, the political and cultural war between traditional and modern magics didn’t anymore. Especially because the ‘modern’ wizards were targeted first, slaughtered for the hunters’ cause.\n\nI took a quick glance around me, noting the masses of hunters that had surrounded me. Within the temple, there was only one way to get in, and only one way to get out. They had made sure that I had no escape out, and with their numbers it wasn’t too hard. Ever since the leader of the High Majistry had fallen and wizards were beginning to be hunted, it seemed as if for each wizard that fell, three hunters rose out to join the cause in some twisted form of exponential growth. Yet compared to the sheer amount of hunters that reigned across this region, the masses of hunters standing against paled in comparison. The thought, unsurprisingly, didn’t give me much comfort.\n\nDespite this, I had tried to lure the largest amount of hunters I could have into the temple. I had gotten the idea from of the other wizards after the academy’s attack. They had told me that the immunities they used against magic were nothing against the unbridled strength of Wild Magic, and she would lure as much hunters as she could to take them out in one fell blow. I had just left the country before I heard news of the miniature supernova at one of the locations. I didn’t hear from her again after that incident. Despite the High Majistry’s ban of the use of Wild Magic, it was one of the best shots I had at survival, or at least taking out a portion of the hunters.\n\nHowever, with the high Majistry collapsing in its entirety, any restrictions might as well have just been lifted. \"Well?\" The hunter's voice quickly snapped me out of my thoughts, or perhaps it was the click from his gun. At this point, there was no turning back. Whether I would’ve liked it or not, this was my last stand. \"You have no idea what power I hold here.\" I tried to say confidently and trying to bluff. Perhaps it would’ve worked better if I didn’t sound nervous and accidentally had my voice crack halfway through. \"Are you talking about magic?\" One of the hunters in the back jeered as the hunters around me burst into laughter. With the way that they were treating this encounter, I might as well have been a joke to them, hunters playing with their prey. Footsteps from where the voice sounded came as the hunters in front made way for a path so that they could make their way to the front lines. \n\n\"You and I both know that magic won't work. Why don't you surrender boy, and maybe we'll let you live as a pet?\" He offered, stretching his maybe and giving me a lecherous look. Only a glare came his way as I immediately twisted the words of my tome into my hand, the text wrapping itself around my hand as I tossed out a fireball, or whatever the Wild Magic in this area would mutate it into, to decimate him.\n\nOnly… That never happened. As soon as the magic text left my fingertips and began to form a fireball, it warped slightly, then simply went out with a depressing hiss. Not quite the supernova I was expecting. There was a few moments of silence before laughter erupted from the crowd of hunters. “Was that it?” The main hunter mocked, laughing along with the rest as he shook his head and started walking forwards towards me. “I’ll admit, that was kind of cute. Now then, let’s see about taking you ho-”\n\n\"Why don't you surrender boy, and maybe we'll let you live as a pet?\" He offered, stretching his maybe and giving me a lecherous look. I glared at him and was halfway through twisting together a fireball spell before stopping, realizing what had happened. He had repeated himself, in the exact same tone. That shouldn’t be possible, unless… Ah. So that’s why they called it the Temple of Time. “What’s wrong? Lost the will to fight?” He mocked as I shifted the text in my hands to be a different spell, and then I threw it. If time turned back each time I used a spell, then I had a plan. As I expected, the spell also went out, and the exact same laughter came out from the hunters. I watched him step forwards and begin to speak again, waiting for the turnback point to start my plan. “I’ll admit, that was kind of cute. Now then,” The main hunter looked at me with a wicked grin as my small smile slowly melted into horror as he went on to finish. \"Let's see about taking you home.\"\n\nThis time, there was no turnback point. And this time would be the last time.\n\n(Well, this was my first submission ~~and probably a terrible one~~, So I'll just go now-)" ]	1
	[WP] A child born on Mars awaits the arrival of the first animals to the Martian colony	[ "Pressing her nose against the glass made a funny popping sound in the tip of it. Simone puckered her lips and pressed them to the glass as well, huffing out a breath. Stepping back, she drew two dots and a curved line below for a crooked smile. Bending forward, she looked through the right eye to peer out into space.\n\nThe shuttle was coming! Dancing with glee, she clapped her hands and spun on her heels, taking off for the landing dock in the Arrivals Wing. Some of the people she ran past turned their heads and smiled while others pointedly ignored her. The colony had divided opinions about the arrival of the animals. The largest camps of thought were: fuck earth for taking over this project, and fuck the scientists here for making a useless animal that can go outside but can produce nothing for it. And essentially looks like a moving pile of toenails. The earth creature looked like a pangolin. A very tiny, strange pangolin.\n\nSkidding to a halt at the entry doors, heavy with security, the little girl danced on her feet a moment before falling patiently in line. Growing up on station, your first words were the rules of the colony.\n\nEveryone was buzzing with talk about the animal. While Earth had made it, they did make the concession of allowing Mars to name it, and the process was taking a long time. The memes alone had caused the server to crash numerous times.", "The thing about the Hab was that it was very, very clean. Slick white floors, gleaming countertops and particle-board cabinets, shining sinks and cooking appliances. Wear and tear were two of the most feared words on the red planet, being as there was no running to Home Depot to replace whatever had just broken down. For Max’s parents, this sense of isolation was proving to be one of the hardest things to adjust to, even though it was completely expected. \n\nThe loneliness, and the fear of the pioneer was something that was hard not to look in in the face, especially if you happened to be near a port. A phenomenon called Port-Eye had been classified after the community’s first year - it was the habit of any of the first generation settlers to become mesmerized by the view through any of the many head-sized viewports that were scattered around the settlement. The sufferers reported total absorption by the vistas they saw, the great sweeping plains of ochre dust and the far off mountains like bloodstained teeth scraping the underbelly of the pale sky. Instances of Port-Eye became so commonplace that the presiding body of the settlement decided that the majority of the ports were to be capped, closed with iron eyelids and thus neutered of their hypnotic power. Just before this decree went into effect, the scientist who had been studying Port-Eye came out with a report that said that the hours when Earth was visible from any ports were apparently the most attractive to the first-generation settlers. Surprise surprise. \n\nHe also said that the children born on the planet were entirely unaffected. \n\nThe shuttles came once every two years, regular as clockwork. Many of the settlers had worried that some unpredictable swing in the Earth’s political sphere would abruptly halt the shipments of necessary supplies (that’s how many of the settlers thought about things on the old planet now - Earth, they would say, rather than naming a home country, as though distance had fused all the people of that diverse planet into one community, just like the Hab, only bigger) but it didn’t happen. In fact, the people of Earth seemed to be about as nostalgic about the Martian settlement as the Martians themselves were homesick. Each of the populations watched incredibly popular TV shows about the other - hyper-attractive actors pretending to be New Yorkers had sex with each other, hyper attractive actors pretending to be Martian settlers had sex with each other. Real people on both planets did this as well, not pretending, and that was how Max was born. \n\nMax never cared much for Christmas, instead preferring (as all Martian children did) the once-every-two-years arrival of the shuttle from Earth. Some of his earliest memories were of watching the rocket settle to the surface from an uncovered Port. The landing pad was a great cube of concrete that the settlers had expended much energy in sinking into the dusty surface of the planet, and when not in use it barely registered as a dime-thin smudge of grey on the horizon. With the rocket sinking towards it, however, the fuel streaming from its base like an incandescent paintbrush, the concrete pad glowed with the power of humanity’s collective brainpower and gumption, a beacon in the desert that was the entire planet. \n\nThe mutual affection of the settlers for Earth, and the Earth for its colony grew and matured into a real romance over time. As Max aged, he absorbed stories in the fiercely attentive way of many intelligent children, listening keenly to his parent’s discussions over the breakfast and dinner tables and trying to piece together clues as to what was really happening. The older people spoke of times of strife on the old planet, of wars and terrorism, and although they always said that they were happy to have left those kinds of things behind, there was a wistfulness to their talk that Max never fully understood. These conversations had a traceable arc, one that Max learned quite well. Some bad news would come from the old planet, and then one settler or another would bring up how much hope the settlement was giving to all the people still living in the old place. The Martians were like a dream made real for the old planet, a new (if dusty and largely inhospitable) Eden, a chance for the rebirth of all humanity. They were gods and favorite children alike, and the old world loved to worship and spoil them. \n\nThat was how the decision to send animals to Mars came about. It was a kind of interplanetary splurge, a surprisingly whimsical decision on the part of the old planet, a present for a kid who’d gotten good grades. Max was ten years old when the trigger was pulled, and a variety of both farm animals and pets were loaded onto a shuttle named, predictably, Noah’s Ark. There were only about twenty children on Mars, and each of them was promised a puppy or a kitten, and they got to choose. \n\nMax agonized about his decision. Within seconds of hearing that it was up to him, he found himself embroiled in the endless debate/war between cat and dog owners as to which species was a better companion. To further his anxiety, his decision was cast as global news on both planets. Admittedly, on Mars it was more like village news, but back on the old planet, the little Martian boy who was having trouble choosing a pet became one of the stories of the year. All the other Martian children submitted their choices a day or two after hearing the news, but Max just couldn’t choose. \n\nThe final date loomed, and Max nearly had a nervous breakdown. He was an anxious child to begin with, prone to fidgeting and the prolonged habit of thumb sucking. His skin was translucently white, and he wore a set of large rectangular glasses that magnified his eyes and made him look like a cartoon character. \n\nWith twelve hours left before it would be too late to make any choice at all, Max’s father came into his room with a relic of the old world. \n\n‘You put it here.’ He said, positioning the thing on Max’s hand. ‘And then you say, heads is dog, tails is cat.’ \n\nMax got a cat. \n\n—\n\nTo be continued\n\nEdit - Wow, thanks, gold-bestowing stranger! I usually write in the mornings, so check back tomorrow for the second and final part of the story. " ]	2
Choose your own superpower and the reason why you can't (or won't) free yourself. You can describe the experiments, what the researchers wish to understand, who tried to free you, how you got caught, etc.	[WP] You are one of the the few people with a mutation that gives you a superpower. For the past decade, you were locked in a research facility deep underground, having experiments done to you.	[ "Subject is a twentyfive-year-old Caucasian male of highly morphic physical features. All records were expunged following standard surgical operation, and subject took minimal psychological damage during retrieval. Recording taken for posterity reasons.\n\nWarning: Subject was known to be incredibly sarcastic and displayed a remarkably strong personality that survived his harsh treatment; intimidation tactics not recommended.\n\n---\n\"Alright gentlemen, I have to say, this recording studio you got for me is wonderful. I mean, the acoustics. What? Yes, I will get on with it. Sheesh, rush rush rush. Okay, here we go.\"\n\n\"So, I've had this ability as far back as I could remember. What is it, you may - hey! I'm getting there, okay! Perfection takes time! Christ. Yes, I can manipulate biological creatures: read, animals and plants - to look however I want. I can make a fish glow, I can make a plant grow legs - that one never gets old - and I can give people cat ears.\" At this point, two solid minutes pass of silence. Subject seems perturbed at a recollection. \"That was some sick shit that I just remembered. Those Japanese freaks are way above my pay grade, let me tell ya. Anywho, my parents kinda sold me out when I was three to some CIA-lookin' guys that showed up one day after I gave the family cat some bird wings. Poor thing was afraid of heights, yet had no idea how to actually land. It was great.\" subject laughs for several seconds. \"Unfortunately, the neighbors thought that was not a little odd. Now, when there are vigilantes runnin' around with this kind of crazy stuff, then I guess that the government is gonna take the effort to save itself.\"\n\n\"So, as long as I can remember past that oh-so-fateful-day, I have had the weirdest things thrown at me. There was a tiger, and they said to give it a human hand. So I did. There were all kinds of plants; I gave them every limb imaginable, because I was told to. For the most part, the blood work came back as non-contagious, which I guess is a good thing. The doctors even said they would allow me to be in a damn blood drive; I never saw any Red Cross guys, but if they said it was okay then I guess it's pretty good. The thing was, I never really felt 'opressed', or mistreated, 'cause I guess I never knew anything else. I mean, until Rogers came aswingin' by in his shiny black boots. Ya see, this prick was so cocksure of himself. Was always getting real testy with me, always doing weird crap. He was the one who called in the Japanese guys, and made be do that stuff to that poor girl. I'm pretty sure he filmed me doing that, too. Am I too young to be in a porno? Never thought to ask. Oh, when was it? I'm not sure, but the clock said one/something/sixteen, so I guess a couple years ago? What's the time?\"\n\nAt this point, recording was prematurely terminated by inexperienced staff as they attempted to access the time function on the recording software. Fools.\n\n\"Anyway, six years ago. That's right. Now, this guy was the biggest dick I had ever seen. He made me do weird shit, and when I said I wasn't ready or whatever excuse I pulled out of my ass, he shocked me! Yeah, he put on a damn shock collar! What a douche!\" Sighs. \"Still, the cramped living quarters were okay. The A/C was always on, so it as always a good sixty down there. The, uh, 'windows' held the best views in the world, and I could toggle 'em to show whatever I wanted by satellite. You don't see Trump or Buffet with THAT kind of view. Well, without taking a gold-plated private jet there, anyhow. Still, the bed was nice and memory foamed up, and there was a bathroom about the size of my waist around with a toilet the size of a damned thimble. Home sweet home, for how many years? Twenny-two? Nice!\"\n\n---\n\nAt this point, subject began to ramble on and no more reliable information of activities, lifestyle, or characters could be attained. Rest of information provided in OpLog-31-B. Continue, Archivist?", "I smile.\n\nThe blood pools at the floor, reaching ankle level. This'll ruin the fucker's boots for sure. I stare up at him, give him a death stare as the blood keeps running endlessly from the giant hole in my heart. His eyes meet mine, frustrated as he pulls the fancy knife of his free.\n“It'll take more than that to kill me.”\nIt hurt at first. The agonising pain of being torn in half by a truck. The mental pain of being stuck in a coffin for three years, no air to breathe. The repeating pain of being sliced apart constantly as scientists try everything they can to kill 'the anomaly'. \n\nNow, it was nothing. Routine. A nine-to-five of what should be agonising. I begged at first. Oh, lord, I begged. For months and years, I begged them to stop as they shot me, poisoned me, drowned me, incinerated me. Gave up eventually; about the time I realised pain didn't mean a whole lot to someone indestructable. Managed to break out once. Made it about as far as the local McDonalds before being ran down by some private security goons. Now I'm even deeper underground, in high-sec. Gave up on trying to bust out, too. Seems like they've given up trying to kill me on the same token- half-hearted attempts to stab me to death twice a day. \n\nGuess they're just gonna wait me out. After all, I'm still ageing. Was fourteen when I 'died' in the crash. They don't exactly give me a calendar down here, but I figure it's been at least five years now. Probably more. Worst case scenario, I turn into a three-hundred year old raisin that somehow clutches onto a form of life and shits itself constantly. \n\nAnother knife. This time in the gut. Hurts like hell. I don't care. The harsh light reflects from the scientist's glasses as he watches more blood pour out, the first wound already knitting itself. He's quiet. They all are. \n“C'mon, you already tried that one. At least make it interesting.”\nThe knife flies in again. And again. And again. Scrawny guy in a labcoat going apeshit on me. I can't help but chuckle, it's the only thing that passes for humour down here. He carries on for a good few minutes, before panting, putting the knife back on the rack of assorted 'tools'. He silently notes a few things down on a clipboard and walks out, without a further word. Can tell he's frustrated. All the new guys are when they get their first turn on me.\n\nFew minutes later, the cuffs spring off with a click. Fall off the wall like a sack of potatoes. I rise to my feet, limping over and sitting on the bed with a sigh. Give the camera the finger and it pivots towards me. Wish I had a book or something. Same old shit.\n\nBeing immortal sucks." ]	2
	[WP] You can predict the future, but your predictions don't come true if you tell anyone.	[ "I first figured it out when I was in high school. A test. One I didn't study for. Of course, I pretended like I did cause I was in this semi-competitive thing with some nerd who topped every class. He said he would get a 95. I said I would get a 96. When the test came back, there it was, a 96. \n\nBut I hadn't even filled out half the test.\n\nOf course, later on, it came out that it was a massive marking error but cause they caught it so late they had to keep it on the record cause it was 'unfair' to me. Which was great, right?\n\nAt the time I hadn't completely figured it out though, so I did what anyone would do. I skipped out on school, went home and flipped a coin. That's what people do right? I flipped a coin first without saying what it was. Heads. Then I did it, but before I did, I predicted what was going to happen. It didn't work.\n\nBut then I thought about it, hasn't I told that guy before the test came back? So I did the same coin flips, but before I did, I would tell my mum which way the coin would work. That worked. It worked!\n\nSo what would you do at that point? Knowing anything you said would come true if you told someone? Yeah, it went something like that. I would tell people I would make millions, then have those millions. I would tell someone I'd marry a supermodel, there she was. Anything I wanted, it would happen. But then, everyone got jealous when they figured it out. And knocked me out and threw me into a shed. With no one else.\n\nShit.\n\n\n\n", "I met Sarah after college. She was truly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Things were slow to start between us, partly due to a sense of caution I had developed over the years, partly just due to timing. Little did I know that time was to be an irrelevant concept for Sarah and I.\n\nI had been given a gift as a young child. My passing grandfather left me a ring with strange markings etched inside the band. My parents had never seen it before, but passed it to me along with a note that said \"Behold the ring of prediction. Use it once to see your future, but tell no one, or it shall never be so\".\n\nWe all thought it was just a token of grandfatherly love. A spectacle of wonder for a young grandson to muse over and hope upon. I'll always remember the day I learned it wasn't.\n\nSarah and I were walking our favourite park. It was a crisp winter evening with a light snowfall. The earth crunched beneath our feet as our hearts beat for one another. I reached my cold hands into my old coat's pocket and felt the ring, which I had always carried with me. I took it out to show Sarah and explained the story to her. She laughed out loud, \"too bad it wasn't a ring of wishes so we could stay in love forever and ever!\".\n\nSuddenly, an idea came to mind. \"Do you really mean that?\" I asked. \"Of course\" she whispered, kissing me gently. I toyed with the ring, looked her in the eyes, and whispered back \"I predict we will both grow old and die\".\n\nIt's been many years since that day. Sarah and I continue to walk this park, watching the seasons change, and other young couples fall in and out of love. They grow old, their lives and their loves evolve. But ours never will. \n\nSome might call what Sarah and I have a curse, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Our love for one another has never faded, and neither shall we. " ]	2
I know it may sound somber, but I really would like to see some stories about this.	[WP] Write something about the pain of being betrayed by loved ones.	[ "It's been twenty years, or close enough at any rate, but it still hurts. I'm still remembering things, and making connections. Realizations. And the pain comes roaring back, fresh as it was back then.\n\nThis is probably as good a place to mention that I'm honestly in a really good place. Happy, I daresay. Married to possibly the most wonderful woman on Earth, with three delightful children. Most of the time, they do have their bratty moments after all. Hell, I even have a solid job in front of me that I genuinely enjoy.\n\nBut here I am, staring into a fire remembering all of those nights of long ago. I smoke another cigarette because that's much better than indulging in another form of self-harm. I don't want to go back to that. I feel that old familiar itch to do so, though. It's probably a bit armchair psychoanalytical of me, but I'm thinking that if I burn enough in the fire pit I can burn away the pain. The memories. The taint. But I know I can't.\n\nSo then I come in, work on cleaning up. See if that takes my mind off things. It doesn't. Eventually I find myself once again in the shower, sitting on the floor. Adding a salty mix of hot tears to the cascading hot water coming from the shower head.\n\nI feel dirty. I feel used. I feel like meat. And I don't know if that's ever going to change. I know there's no forgetting the things that happened, and there damn sure isn't any moving on. Should there be some efforts at starting anew? I'm in contact once again with the source of my pain, who didn't seem to be the best place back then herself. She probably isn't even aware of just how bad she did me, though she does seem to have some self awareness of some of the shit she put me through.\n\nI don't know. A part of me would love to simply cut off the past. A part of me what's to acknowledge that she might not have been able to help hurting me. She seems to be doing better now, which I do think is good. And good for her. But it doesn't erase the things that happened.\n\nI'm not even sure I'd use the word 'betrayal'. Or 'betrayed'. I guess it works. Why not add it to the heap of words? I loved her, I trusted her, and whether by intent or not she took that and broke it. In the larger scheme of it all, betrayal honestly doesn't seem like that big a deal. Not compared to all the other damage done.\n\nFuck, time for another cigarette and then one of those weepy showers.", "I remember it all. \n\nI can't help but remember thinking about all the nights on the train, the two hour adventures we'd take from school to home every break we had, and how every time we'd talk a little more and more each time, and how serious we were getting. I remember that one time you casually asked me about girls I liked at school and how I swore you had the idea in your head that I had feelings for you. I distinctly remember telling you how I was: how I was this weird person who valued my relationships with friends and loved ones above even my well being, and how there were times in my life that I'd given up on the people I cared about because they were happiest with someone else.\n\nI can recall the night on the train when you finally broke down. You told me about how there were guys in the past who had made you feel as if you were inadequate, and how you had felt used and abused and about all the nights after our train rides, how you had cried. \n\nI know I told you how I felt. It wasn't a faded memory for me to remember, I KNOW you listened to me that night, and I know that on some level I knew you cared.\n\nI remember when we stopped sitting together. You had just met a new friend from work and he was always picking you up. I remember when you told me he was awesome, and how weak and inadequate it made me feel. I clearly remember you being the first girl that ever made me cry. I wept for you, all those things we spoke about, and all of the nights we spent laughing and crying and in pain.\n\nI remember when I saw the two of you together. I remembered you noticed me, and you asked if I had wanted to hang out, but how could I? Meeting him tore me apart inside. He was more than I was, I suppose. I'm not sure I can remember his face now, or perhaps I don't want to remember, but I won't forget yours.\n\nAfter everything I told you, after you made me believe I could have been the change you so desperately needed.\n\nI don't remember when the two of you started dating. That being said, I will never forget how it made me feel. You had built me up, and made me feel something for you that I'm not sure I could ever recreate, and all the while you were prodding me to fall for you, you had the machinations to tear me down, to make me feel as small and belittled as you did when your past lovers destroyed you; you did the very same to me. And I'll give it to you, it was a master plan. You knew I cared more about others than I do myself, so you knew that I'd shelf these feelings so that you could be happy. You know I've done it before, so you figured I would do it again.\n\nSo I did. \n\nI find myself riding the train much more often these days. I guess I'm trying to remember those nights, but the memory is moreso a painful passenger alongside me. \n\nI just wish I could forget. \n " ]	2
	[WP] "Master", Vader said, "Are we the bad guys?"	[ "The night was bitter cold, and a crowd had gathered. A sea of faces stretched on endlessly; its noise was deafening, and at its center were two men locked in combat. Vader had beaten the young man clad in white until his face was barely recognizable. As a final act of vengeance and mercy he grabbed the pale youth by the throat, and with incredible force threw him to the canvas below. As the youth lay helpless underfoot [Vader](https://www.thesun.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/nintchdbpict000282388320.jpg?w=623) looked to his left and said. \"Master, are we the bad guys?\"\n\n\"OOOOOOOOH YEEEEEEEEEAAAA\" replied Macho Man Randy Savage with finger guns blazing. \n\nThe End. \n\n- - - \n\nYou didnt say [which](https://ringthedamnbell.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/wwf_logo_old_school_raw_ver__by_hecrpd-d34klt4.png) established universe ;)" ]	1
I'm a cloud, I'm a cloud, Floating high up in the sky, Helping people, saving lives, I'm a cloud, I'm a cloud	[WP] People like to look at cloud shapes to notice patterns, symbols and hidden meanings. You are a sentient, all-knowing cloud who goes around trying to help people.	[ "“Oh look! That’s a cat cloud!”\n\n“A cute one, too, at that!”\n\nNooooo, you’re getting it all wrong! I’m warning you! Those furballs are mighty dangerous!\n\n“I think I’ve seen that exactly-shaped clouds in Mexico and France.”\n\n“Yeah. Been seeing this everywhere for the past week now. What’s up with mother nature? Trying to get us all to adopt cats?”\n\n“Maybe?”\n\nYou stupid, supposedly brilliant bipedal mammals! It’s a goddarn warning! I’m a sentient cloud! Gods, your ancestors understand me more than you do and you call them stupids!\n\nI sigh (not really, since I’m, you know, a CLOUD) and try again, my patience wearing thin. Because being a cloud means you can only shape yourself in vague ways, getting the message across is kind of hard. But I got better over the eons I spent up here, and had helped humanity avoid countless disasters. \n\nI missed the day when they were more superstitious. \n\nI attempt to shape my form into a feline standing on a human’s hunched back, because I knew the future — the cats are smarter than humans think, and they’re going to enslave humanity at this rate!\n\nBut...\n\n“Oh look! Now it’s a cat AND a human!”\n\n“Yeah. I think we should definitely adopt one.”\n\nI facepalmed myself with the mist hanging around me. \n\nI wish I was NOT sentient. \n\nMaybe I should tell the felines their destiny and becomes their guardians instead since, you know...\n\nI saw some of them looking up triumphantly. \n\nYeah. \n\nI should do that.\n\n——————\n\nWell this is written on the fly so forgive me for any typos or the general unsavoriness of this one XD" ]	1
	[WP] "I'm the king of the world" they exclaimed triumphantly, before being abducted by aliens willing to negotiate a peace treaty with the self declared ruler of Earth.	[ "\"I saw this in a movie once\" you said as you approached the front of the ship. \"I'm the king of the world\" and that's all you could remember. Days pass or so you think, it's hard to keep track of time in a dark room all alone. Suddenly the door opens up, a lone figure enters the room with the door shutting behind him \"Greetings king of the earthlings\" suddenly you put two and two together.\n\n\n\n\"Have you ever seen the Titanic\"\n\n", "It's been so long. Hours, days, weeks I don't even know. I was tied to a metal chair. Last I remember I beating my best friend at a stupid race before I got beamed up by a green light(I know a cliche). Beings with large black eyes were speaking in a unrecognizable language. All I heard was \"peace talks\" and \"Alliance\" and \"king\". Soon a tall one, who I presume to be a leader, came to me and started speaking .\"Leader of Earth. We wish to have an alliance and live in peace.\" " ]	2
	[WP] Your superpower is completely normal and common, something hundreds of people have in varying ways. But yours is just a tiny bit different in a way that matters a whole lot.	[ "Shivering. \n\nThat is my life in a nutshell. \n\nIn the world today, powers exist among the many people. People with these powers were called Advans, as they had an advantage over common people. This term later transferred to be the blanket word for the power. Some of them range to the fantastical, such as flight, incredible strength, or super speed. Others are enhancements to their physical or mental state, like memory, perception, and hearing.\n\nThese Advans are documented and used as part of the Department of Labor to utilize the users by analyzing them and placing them in desired fields of employment where their Advan makes them the best candidate. People with an Advan in pyrokinesis and hydrokinesis are typically firefighters, those able to talk to animals are zookeepers or veterinarians, and et cetera ad nauseam.\n\nMy Advan, however, got me placed up in the Rockies. High altitude, constant wind, and snow everywhere leads to very cold days. I, along with several other members of my team, are part of the Search & Rescue unit that is here year-round.\n\n\"Hey, Shakes. Can you grab me a beer from the fridge,\" asked our newest member of the team, Frank Pultzer. He's a bit hot-headed and arrogant to boot. His Advan, like half of the team, deals with manipulating his body into any form of tool essentially, perfect for excavating people buried in the snow or trapped in a cave.\n\n\"Hey, Newbie. You show some respect,\" barks our captain, Harry Crandell. Harry, like the other half of our crew, deals with fire and heat. \"If you're gonna call someone by their codename, you use the right one or not at all. Plus, you can get it your-damn-self.\" Our captain's a bit hot-headed too, but he's earned everyone's respect.\n\n\"It's cool, Cap,\" I said as I stood up from my chair, which was further away from the fridge than Frank.\n\n\"You sure, Cool Hand?\" Captain looked a bit puzzled as I was willing to do this.\n\n\"Yeah. You know how I am, Blaze. Always lending a hand,\" I said as I made my way to the fridge with a smile on my face. Blaze began to smile as he watched events unfold before him.\n\nI grabbed a beer and a soda from the fridge and made my way to Frank. A slight tremor shot down my leg as I handed him the bottle. \"Enjoy,\" I said as I returned to my seat with my soda.\n\nFrank formed his thumb into a bottle opener, popped off the top, and began to chug. He started to spit out his beer with a look of disgust on his face as Blaze and I laughed our asses off.\n\n\"What the hell?! Why's the beer warm,\" Frank yelled as he looked at the fridge then at me and Blaze.\n\n\"This is why you respect your elders, Newbie,\" said Blaze as he continued to laugh.\n\nFrank, not liking the idea of being the butt of the joke, turned towards me angrily. \"Oh ha ha. Using your Advan to heat up my beer. Hilarious,\" he said in a sarcastic tone. I continued to smile as I drank my soda.\n\n\"You're only partially right, Newbie,\" Blaze said as he stood up and grabbed a glass of water. \"If you paid attention to your team dossiers, like I instructed you to, you would know that all members with fire and heat capabilities can engulf their body or parts in flame or generate a bright orangish glow when conducting heat.\" As he finished his sentence, he placed the glass in his palm, and a fire erupted from it like it was a gas stove burner. The water in the glass began to boil in less than a minute.\n\n\"Now, Cool Hand here actually is unique to those with this Advan. While genetically in the same category, his is actually a mutation. He doesn't generate heat. He swaps heat from things.\"\n\n\"What possible good can come from a guy with an Advan like that here, in the Rockies of all places,\" Frank stated as confusion was plastered on his face.\n\n\"Again, if you read the dossiers, you would see that Cool Hand here has saved over 50 people from advanced hypothermia. Us with the ability to generate heat create it too fast that it would damage the victims' skin and can cause irreparable damage on the inside,\" Blaze said as he pulls out a Hot Pocket from the freezer and places it in his palm.\n\nHe heats up again, causing the steam to burst out the sides violently and singe the outer shell. He tossed a second one to me as I grimaced. \n\n\"You know I prefer to defrost them first before doing this,\" I said as I unwrap the snack.\n\n\"Sorry, dude. He didn't do his homework, so we have to show him,\" Blaze said apologetically. I sighed as began to use my Advan. Shivers went down my legs as the frosty appearance of the snack disappeared.\n\n\"You're lucky I wanted a snack,\" I said as I took a bite out of the pastry.\n\n\"What the,\" said Frank as he was dumbfounded.\n\nI swallow my bite and look at Frank. \"I swap the cold from the item I want with my own body heat,\" I said as I take another bite. \"All people with this Advan typically have higher than normal body temperatures, so I can use that to not freeze myself in the process, but depending on how cold the item is, I can still freeze too.\" I take another swig of my soda to wash down the food. \"Trust me, I'd rather have full heat generation rather than this form of entropy, but since I've saved my first life up here, what's a little shiver every once in a while?\"", "“In a moment, your cell walls will rupture.” He waves a hand over the hero. She doesn’t look much like the advertisements on t.v. Her hair is matted, and stray hairs stick out in every direction. Her costume is bloodied, but not photogenically, and instead of a blinding white smile, he receives a snarl. “It takes only a thought, you see. So,” he says, leaning closer, “please, cooperate with me.”\n\n\nThe silence in the room is fraught with fear. As he paces around the room, a dozen eyes follow him, terrified. They quiver in their beds. The hero hangs her head, and her blonde hair hides her eyes. “Please,” she chokes out, “let them go. They haven’t done anything to you. What do you have to prove?” Her jaw is tense.\n\n\n“I… Shut up.” He walks faster now, a click-click-click that bounces off the walls. The tempo of the steps increases. “I’ve spent my whole life helping people, and that didn’t work.” His fist is clenched in his white scrubs. “I wanted to save lives. Look where that got me.” He barks out a laugh. “Everything just… The stress, I couldn’t- I wanted to make things right…” He snaps his head back to her, all golden locks and resolve and hope. “Stop looking at me like that!”\n\n\n“What happened?” she asks. There is no judgement in her voice. Nor pity. “I can see it in your face. You’ve been holding this back for a long time, haven’t you? You’ve been lonely for a long time, haven’t you, Doctor?”\n\n\nHis voice quavers. “Why do you care?” He slumps against the wall, and pulls out a chair. He collapses in it, kicking out his feet. They are close now, he knows. He can imagine the sound of boots clomping down the corridors. The doctor threads a hand through sparse hair. “I don’t have much time, don’t I.” He sighs. “So be it.”\n\n\n“I’m listening, Doctor.” \n\n\n“I was elated when I discovered that I could control water. I didn’t have much control or power. It was frustrating, knowing that you were the defective one, the one who couldn’t do anything right.” He loosens his fist from his clothes and stares at his hand. The knuckles are white, slowly flushing pink. “I could shift raindrops a quarter inch to the right. I could make a ripple in a swimming pool. That was the extent of my powers.” He cocks his head, as if remembering something. “So I spent most of my years, dodging conversation about it. And I studied hard, and became a doctor. That’s what I’ve always wanted. And that’s where it all went downhill.”\n\n\n“What happened?”\n\n\n“They were dying and I couldn’t save them and…” he lets out a shaky breath.\n\n\n“Amber Jenkins?”\n\n\n“It was all my fault. I lost control. I went against the oath. Do no harm,” he says stiffly. “The thought ate at me and I was afraid I would go crazy… So I decided, what if I just stopped holding back?” His breathing is shallow and fast. “What if I stopped caring? After all, I’ve already crossed the line.” He bows his head. “Just… Arrest me. I have nothing left.”\n\n\nShe blurs into action, reaching into a pocket and withdrawing a pistol. It fires a jolt of energy, and the doctor falls like a puppet with cut strings. His breathing eases. \n\n\n“Sorry, Doc,” she says, securing the handcuffs around his wrists and ankles. “I wish we could’ve met some other way.” She drags a trembling hand down her face. She doesn’t bother looking around, but she knows that they are staring at her. She doesn’t want their gratitude. “The police will take your statements soon,” she calls, and says nothing else.\n\n\n It’s going to be a long day.\n\n\n\nWant to check out my archive of stories? [Click here!](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheminonkingWrites/)" ]	2
	[WP] While studying human anatomy for years, you discover intelligent design, if we evolve long enough it will allow the operator of our bodies which is the nervous system to leave our bodies through a preplanned and painful process. The soul is deleted as it was only needed for survival.	[ "Veronika slumped back in the chair. The file had everything: her name, address, workplace, job title, date of birth, her weight, her height, her mother’s name…\n\n“It…it can’t be…” Pandora Linstrom was there in the field to the right. The owner of Social Safety Inc. – her boss – was in fact her mother. Veronika’s mind began to spin, after all this time, she had finally found her. She looked further, the field where her father’s name would be was blank. Sighing, she continued; facts on her past, all of her memories, lost friends, old loves…Veronika stopped when she saw Jack’s name.\n\nHer hand nudged the cursor, hovering it over his name. No…Veronika flicked the wheel; her eyes losing focus as paragraphs of text flew across the screen. Finally, she looked back to see the line – “Date of extraction for #436679:”\n\n“What the hell is this?!” Veronika pushed herself away form the desk, jumping up and edging back towards the door. Turning to leave, Veronika found herself face to face with Pandora.\n\n“Hello Veronika,” Pandora whispered. Looking over Veronika’s shoulder, her eyes focused upon the lit screen, before focusing on her daughter’s face once more. “From the look on your face and your haste to leave, I can only assume you have seen your file.”\n\nVeronika stood silently.\n\n“Mum?” Was all that came to mind.\n\nPandora nodded. “Yes, but as you must have realised, it’s much more complicated than you realise.”\n\nTears welled in Veronika’s eyes. “Why did you leave me? What the hell is an ‘extraction date’? What do you really do here?”\n\nSpreading her arms, her long, grey shift dress swept across the floor as Pandora took a step forward. “I know this must be confusing, but I can explain. Everything I have done – all of this –\" Gesturing at the lab behind them, “I did for you. For us.” Reaching out, Pandora placed her hand on Veronika’s shoulder. \n\nVeronika shirked away from the touch. “Don’t you dare touch me! What is going on here? I though we were working to find a cure for The Kooks…”\n\n“We are, but it’s not just a cure for them, but a way to set everyone free. We are getting close V, we are almost there and then we can go home.”\n\nVeronika rubbed her temples at the sound of her nickname; no one had called her that since Jack. “Home?” Veronika spat. “What the hell do you mean? Are you saying there’s another sector out there beyond the Waste? Away from The Kooks? Somewhere…better?”\n\nPandora nodded again. “Yes,” she cooed. “There is somewhere amazing that we can all go, back to where we belong.” Pandora walked slowly across the room, her fingertips trailing over the equipment strewn across its surface. “It’s home as I know it, and I know you will love it too. A place where there is no destruction, there are no walls, no one suffering from radiation sickness…it’s where I came from.”\n\n“What? A place without radiation?” Veronika closed her eyes, trying to remember the things she had learned, but no location came to mind. “I don’t think anywhere is left,” Veronika said, shaking her head. “Even the furthest tip of Sector 7 was investigated and it’s there too.”\n\nPandora turned back. “It’s not here,” Pandora replied. She pointed out the window to the red sky of the afternoon, “it’s out there. We have to leave here first, but it takes time, we need to ensure everyone has entered their optimum development sequence. Once they have, we can split them from their husk and we can transport them back. Once we are there, so many things will change…”\n\n“What are you saying? Split them from their husk? What husk?”\n\nPandora remained silent, continuing to stare through the window as a small smile crept across her face. \n\n“Answer me! What husk? Are you going to kill us? Is this your plan?” \n\nPandora turned back to Veronika. “No, not at all my daughter; I am going to set us free. You will see how good life will be once we return and I show him the progress we have made. We are so close, the physical form is almost perfected, and even I am surprised at the amount of progress we have made in terms of the nervous system realignment and personality growth; it has been fascinating to watch how quickly the cells responded.”\n\n“Return? Him? What is going on?” Veronika slowly crept towards the door; the cool air of the lab causing the hairs on her neck to rise. \n\nPandora reached out and grabbed the neutraliser from the bench. “I know our reunion has been short lived, but I’m afraid that that’s all I can say right now; I just can’t let things stop now.”\n\n“Stay away from me! No!” Veronika ran to the door, but the red light from its frame glowed brightly. She tried her pass, but the light remained steady. She circled back, running to the console once more. \n\nPandora pushed her hair back from her face. “Perhaps you should check your extraction date…”\n\nVeronika looked at the screen. The field to the right of “Date of extraction for #436679:” greyed out as her vision began to fade.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Working at a plasma donation center I stumbled onto a dark secret. Vampires are real. Instead of ingesting blood, killing or possibly turning victims, they now pay people to donate plasma which is the actual component in the blood that they use for survival.	[ "It was a pleasant midsummer afternoon in the south suburbs of Happenstance, Nowhere, where birds sang gayly and the sun shined brightly with only sparse clouds for the sole reason to say, “Mmm, yes, that’s quite nice.” \nFrank turned to Kyle and said, “I am not happy,” and frowned. \n“Not happy?” Kyle said, “But ever why?” \nFrank looked up at the Happenstance Blood Clinic and frowned again. “Well, you’re about to have me stabbed.” \n“Stabbed? Oh, no. They don’t stab you, no. They just take a thin, sharp, pokey thing, and, uh,” Kyle trailed off. \n“I think the word you’re mumbling about is pronounced ‘stabbed’.” \n“So, they stab your arm a bit. But, you get a cookie!” \n“A cookie? What kind of cookie? Chocolate chip? Peanut butter? Oh, God. Don’t tell me it’s…” \n“Oatmeal, yes.” \n“With raisins?” \n“With, as you say, raisins.” and with that, Kyle put his arm about Frank’s and they strolled into the Happenstance Blood Clinic. Kyle announced, “Ding! Ding! Ding! Got a couple of ripe bloody grapes ready to pop!” \nA young beautiful, but quite pale, woman with crimson lipstick glided to the front desk. She looked Frank and Kyle over not once, not twice, not even thrice, but – \n“Are we supposed to?” Kyle said, “Nevermind. Yes, my good friend and I are simply bursting with blood, you see, and –“ \n “Bursting?” the woman said with a start. \n“Yes, quite, but we do have somewhat a sweet tooth, if you know what I mean.” \n“Why, yes, sir, I think I do.” \n“So, I say, we trade some of our blood for a few of your oatmeal… Madam, I do believe your lipstick is dripping down to your chin.” \nThe woman wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then licked it and said, “Oatmeal raisin, my sirs. Just follow me,” and glided in front of them toward a couple recliners. \n“Kyle,” Frank whispered, “I don’t think that was lipstick.” \n“Ah, jelly donut. I could go for one myself. You know, we should head to that restaurant at the edge of Happenstance after all this and- ” \n“No, Kyle. Blood,” Frank looked at Kyle with a raised brow. Or at least he tried to raise one, but it simply looked like he was shocked. \n“Yes, Frank. This is the Blood clinic. Now, go sit down and let’s get our cookies already, then we can grab ourselves one of those jelly donuts you were raving about.” \nFrank mumbled as he sat into the recliner. The woman glided to him and pulled some straps over his chest and buckled him in. “Straps?” he said with a gasp, “No one said anything about straps!” \n“Well, they probably just want to keep us still for when they stab us, that’s all.” \n“Stab us?” \n“Well, how else are they going to get all our blood out?” \n“All our blood? What about just a pint?” \n“Well, Frank, vampires need a bit more than a pint, and there’s no way they’re gonna hand over good oatmeal raisin cookies for a measly pint.”\n", "Isa claimed that the way to save humanity was through unification with those enlightened beings. I have been working at PlasmaGo for about six months now and I have met three vampires. It is a bit uncanny the way they move as if their limbs are underwater. I have been told it's to keep the speed down, to not appear too quickly. \n\nTheir faces are shovel-shaped and not as beautiful as Twilight would have suggested. They are more akin to Dracula, with big eyes and small mouths. I have thought they look like anime characters, especially with how sharp and small their noses are. If they used to be human, the connection was so long ago, so far back in the primordial ooze, that I can barely say they are human, so much as humanoid. \n\nYet, when they speak, it hurts to turn away. They need blood--plasma really--and are willing to do a lot to get it. They have a spokeswoman, Rivetta Stone, who manages the American Division of Otherworldly Connections. She is the person who welcomes me onto the team, who tells me my 'blood count' means something. \n\nIt seems like any other job, really. I sit at a desk and welcome the bright-eyed humans, willing to donate or take cash. 45% of our plasma makes it to hospitals, the rest is damaged out and turned into viable food for six of the species that visit our facilities. \n\nVampires are easily hidden among humans, throw a coat and had on that bitch and there they are. The rest are 'fed' through a series of clever channels. I have yet to meet the other creatures, though Isa says it's goblins, some werewolves, and the Republican party. \n\nI don't really care. The pay here is amazing. You learn so many strange things in this part of the underworld. Plus, the perks of being employed by the true rulers of this world is almost too much. \n\nHave you heard about reverse plasma? Those anti-aging commercials are bullshit. The real power lies in vasma, the blood taken from a vampire after they had fed. Just two shots of that a year and you have never felt better." ]	2
	[WP] You and your friends are about play D&D when all of a sudden you all wake up in a field. From the sky you hear your DMs voice “guys where did you go?”	[ "&nbsp; Jake, kyle, Vikki, and I had been playing Dungeons & Dragons with each other every Sunday for 3 years. Yes, 3 years! Even though Vikki was a girl! Kyle bet me 15 bucks that she would have quit the second week, but here she was over 100 games later. \n &nbsp; Girl aren't so bad after all. \n &nbsp; Hell, Vik even agreed with me when I told Jake we shouldn't try the new version his mom bought him. \n&nbsp; \"Mike is right, your mom is lame.\" She had said, matter of fact. \n&nbsp; That just made Jake more upset. \n \n &nbsp; I was reflecting on all this as I lay in a deserted field, empty save Vik and I. In the distance I could make out the profile of an ancient castle. Jake and Kyle were nowhere to be found.\n &nbsp; A booming voice that came from everywhere at once said hesitantly, \"uh, guys... where did you go?\" The voice belonged to Jake. \n &nbsp; I wasn't sure if he would hear a reply, but I-told-you-so came to mind. \n \n &nbsp; Vikki seemed nonplussed, \"We'd better find Kyle...\" \n&nbsp; \"Damnit!\" I yelled at the sky, \"I knew we shouldn't have played this damn D&D, Jumanji edition!\"" ]	1
	[WP] An edgy teenager accidentally joins a cult that worships Santa	[ "\"So, let me get this straight...\"\n\nThe kid looked as if he were going to go raving mad at any second. Not an uncommon look down here, but usually it took a bit longer to set in than this.\n\n\"...you want to give your soul to me...\" \n\nThe boy nodded furiously at this, manic eyes darting here and fro as if he was face to face with the devil himself rather than... well, bad analogy.\n\n\"... and you want... nothing? Nothing in return?\" The shadowy form rose from its chair, growling voice tapering off in puzzlement.\n\nMore nodding. \"Yes.\" Simple, to the point, as if no other answer was possible.\n\n\"Hmmm.\" Satan, devourer of souls, betrayer of the Lord, angel of perdition, sat down in his chair, taken aback. \n\n\"Please Mr. Sa-sa-satan sir, let me in please! Just... just save me from Santa!\" The boy was practically weeping with desperation at this point.\n\n\"Santa?\" Lucifer's tone had dimmed to a whisper.\n\nThe boy looked down, wiping what looked to be actual tears from his eyes. \"Uhh... yeah,\" he sputtered.\n\n\"FUCKING SANTA?!\" Stalactites rained from the ceiling as Beelzebub's vocal sonic boom erupted through the room. \"As in, red hat, jolly attitude, adorable elves? THAT FUCKING SANTA?!\"\n\n\"Y-y-yes?\" If the kid hadn't already pissed his pants, he had now.\n\n\"No.\" \n\n\"Wha-what?\" The look of surprise on the boy's face was almost comical.\n\n\"No, kid. N-O. I'm not fucking with that psychopathic toy dictator again.\"\n\n\"No...no...you-you have to!\" Desperation was again creeping into the kid's voice.\n\n\"Nope. Not gonna happen. In fact, get the fuck out of here. I don't want you in Hell. Maybe God will have to deal with that fat jolly fuck this time around.\"\n\n\"But... but...\" The boy's protestations were cut off as he was swallowed up by a fiery portal, returned to whatever God-forsaken corner of the mortal world he had come from. \n\n\"Fucking Santa cultists,\" muttered the Lord of the Bottomless Pit. \"They never learn.\"\n\nA chuckle came from a corner of the cavern. \"Yes, my lord, what a bunch of idiots.\" A small, misshapen lump of spiked flesh blubbered merrily to itself, visibly delighted by the scene it had witnessed. \n\n\"Ahh, Xyxu. There you are. I was wondering where you were.\" The King of All Things Evil spoke with a tone that almost approximated fondness. Xyxu was one of Hell's most promising young demons, and it didn't take a fallen angel to see that he was going places. Bad, horrid places, but still, places. \"What's next on the docket?\" \n\n\"Boilings at 8:30, sir. Third circle.\" \n\n\"Good. Something to take my mind off of that North Pole nimrod.\" Dark wings unfurled from Satan's back as he glided out of the cavern, leaving behind a trail of shadow, pain, and a faint lavender scent. \n\n\"Very good, my lord.\" Xyxu followed gloppily, slimy form slopping across the blackened basalt to follow his boss. \"If I may ask, sir, why do you hate Santa so much?\" The blob bubbled in just the right way to suggest an air of genuine curiosity. \n\n\"Oh, it's a long story, Xyxu, and eternity is so short.\" \n\nOh well, Xyxu thought to himself, maybe next time. And, for the time being, that was that." ]	1
	[WP] You fall asleep on a long-haul flight and wake up to an empty plane, all the passengers and crew have disappeared. Yet the aircraft is still in the air.	[ "Jake shakes awake from the sleep he hadn’t even realized he’d fallen into. He was honestly surprised, he never got any sleep on these overseas flights, made sleeping like a baby once he got to his hotel all the sweeter. He rubbed his eyes while yawning, glancing at his watch, middle of the night, obviously. That mean he was halfway through this flight, hell, maybe he could manage to sleep the rest of the way. \n\n As he slid down a little further into his seat, he noticed for the first time that the person sitting next to him wasn’t there. Probably using the restroom, no biggie. Jake thought as he glanced forward. The little screen on the back of the seat in front of him was off, must have turned off while he was asleep. Or did they do that? Jake asked himself as he tapped the screen to turn it back on. \n\n It remained a blank screen, and Jake slowly stood up to see if he could get someone to turn it back on with their plane crew voodoo. Looking around the plane, he noticed that it wasn’t just his seat mate, the plane seemed empty. It hadn’t been fully booked by any stretch of the imagination, but there had been people on it when Jake fell asleep, he was sure of it. \n\n “Did we land and no one told me?” Jake asked, and for the first time, he realized there was no sound at all, save for his voice. Jake slumped down into his seat and slid up the cover of his window. It was dark outside, but they were definitely still in the air, it looked like they were passing through a cloud of some kind at the moment. Jake started to panic as all his theories were proven wrong. He stood up from his seat, sliding out into the aisle, and walked towards the front of the plane, glancing at seats on either side as he passed. People’s stuff was still strewn about, laptops, blankets, books, all manner of plane time sinks were laying about as if they had been in use just minutes ago. \n\n He got to the front of the plane, where the ominous cockpit door was located. He looked around for someway to communicate with the pilots, but he didn’t find any comm button or anything, so he simply pounded on the door for a moment, then placing his ear to the door to listen for a response. Nothing. He pounded again, this time yelling at the same time. He waited a moment to hear a response, still nothing. Jake was starting to lose it, and he grabbed the handle and yanked hard on the door. To his surprise, the handle twisted and the door opened. It hadn’t been locked after all. Jake opened the door fully and looked inside to realize his worst fear, no pilots, at all. The dials and various screens were still in motion, showing altitude, speed, fuel levels, all the nonsense pilots had to know, and Jake, as a frequent flyer, couldn’t care less about. \n\n For now, there was one thing he cared about, he glanced around for a moment before finding the altimeter, that showed 39,000 feet. From all his times flying, Jake knew that was a pretty normal altitude for flying, which meant they were still in the sky, still very high in the sky. Jake noticed one other reading that concerned him more than the altitude, and that was the flight speed. The reading was zero, nothing, the plane, according to this dial, was stopped, at 39,000 feet. \n\n “I’m dreaming.” Jake finally surmised. “No other possibility, this isn’t happening, it can’t happen.” Jake backed out of the cockpit and rubbed his chin. “I need to wake up, this is not good for my mental stability.” Jake paced down the aisle, and back towards the front of the plane. He tried punching the sides of one of the seats, right in the plastic cover. It hurt like hell, and Jake held his hand, with what he hoped weren’t any severely damaged fingers. \n\n “Well that didn’t work, and now I just feel dumb.” Jake looked around for a way to wake himself up. “I need to do something that I wouldn’t, couldn’t do while awake. He glanced over at the thing he always dreaded about flying, the emergency exit row. Jake gulped down his fear over what he was about to do, and approached the big red handle of the emergency exit. He carefully placed one hand on the big red handle, then the other. \n\n After psyching himself up for a second, he yanked down hard, and the door slid open without a sound. And that was it, there was no decompression of the cabin, no wind outside to yank Jake free of the plane. The plane was certainly stood still, Jake could see the could they were passing through, the thin mist at a stand still all around him. He stood at the edge of the open hatch, and glanced down. He didn’t see anything, not sure what he expected, but he had to assume the ocean was down there. \n\n “Well…” Jake looked around, both at the night sky in front of him, and the eerily empty cabin behind him. “Shit.”\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Your latest Tinder hookup turns out to be your favorite fictional hero or heroine. But they're not quite the way you imagined them to be...	[ "Abby was bamboozled into the whole thing, really. She was simply not convinced that anything good ever came of Tinder. The sheer volume of propositions she'd received upon her sister forcing her to set up an account and upload her best photos was enough to turn her off from the idea entirely. That is, until she matched with Loki, the God of Mischief. She couldn't really believe it, and only agreed to the date just so she could call bullshit and rub it in Claudia's face for ever having made her set up the stupid app to begin with.\n\n\"If you change your dress one more time, I'm gonna duct tape this one to your fuckin' back,\" Claudia warned, just as Abby was about to unzip the green velvet ensemble. \n\"He's going to love this, and you know it.\" \n\"Yeah, but it's not going to be Loki, and you know it. It's just some doppelgänger...\" \nClaudia crossed her arms and smiled, \"Then why'd you agree to the date?\" \n\"To prove you wrong--I already told you. Now help me with that button on the back again so I can get this over with.\"\n\nHe was sitting at the table already, thumbing through a menu so thick, it looked more like a book. Abby didn't do brunch, and she sure as hell didn't do men who intentionally played games. So Loki, of all people, was the last guy she would have seriously considered dating.\n\nHe looked up and his verdant eyes appeared to catch ablaze in the high noon sun as he drank her in; even his pale pink mouth fell agape slightly. Abby paused in the cowl neck green gown after allowing the concierge to take her coat. You can still turn around. You can still get out of this. But he had already seen her, and the look on his face made her feel desired like she hadn't experienced in far too long, and her block heels glued into the carpet and kept her there.\n\nHe stood with what appeared to Abby's eyes to be some sort of flourishing motion, or perhaps it was the fact that he stood at about 6'7\" that caused the slow motion effect. Loki's expression read dumbstruck; he almost tripped backing away from his chair and stood only several feet away patiently. Abby would have gone so far as to think that he looked rather innocent, and suddenly she felt as if she was very powerful. He even swallowed hard, which she noticed in the way that his Adam's apple bounced as the glue on her soles melted and she stalked closer.\n\nDespite her heels, Loki had to lower his head somewhat to meet her gaze and shake her hand, which he did in this respectful way that almost made her think that she was meeting a coworker to discuss business. To Abby's surprise, his hand was invitingly warm, his hands, rather, as his raven eyebrows cocked and he clasped hers with both of his own. \n\"Cold out there,\" he said, \"You poor thing, you must be freezing.\" He pulled out her chair, and Abby hesitated to sit, for a moment, believing that he would pull the cushioned Mathilde out from under her ass. But to her relief, she never met the floor, and he pushed her in such that she sat up comfortably straight.\n\nIt was no joke, which Abby realized even harder to be the case when Loki picked up his butter knife and snapped it between his fingers which produced a rose. He handed it to her, and she stared at it in disbelief for so long that Loki grew noticeably nervous.\n\n\"Was that too much? I shouldn't have...that was stupid,\" he said, more so to himself than to Abby. She looked at him again and found his eyes pinched tightly shut, waging an internal battle with himself. At that point, she melted. He was shy. In truth, there was hardly anything godly about him at all.\n\nNot once throughout the entire encounter did Loki play a trick on Abby, or even tell a joke. He leaned in when she told him all about herself, and he'd cocked his head to the side with sincere interest, pouring her a cup of his earl grey once she'd sampled the Assam, his delicate snowy fingers slicing the last scone in half for the two of them to share.\n\nHe didn't utter a jealous word of his brother Thor, and answered all of the questions Abby asked him. When they stepped out of the luxury Boston hotel into the cold, Abby realized that Loki didn't have a coat. \n\"Aren't you freezing?\" she asked, her hands already aching with the chill through her gloves. Loki only blushed hard and shook his head for no. It started snowing and she shivered until she felt an arm around her. It darkened overhead slightly, and Abby gazed skywards to find that an umbrella had materialized there. She smiled up at Loki and laughed.", "Sarah entered the bar feeling equally nervous and excited. Her past relationship had gone up in flames and this silly little Tinder date had brought her some hope. She scanned the room looking for Ben, her match, but noticed only a few couples and what looked like a man in a blanket. Oh no, She thought. Stood up again.\nSuddenly, the Snuggie favoring man fixed his gaze on her and smiled. \n\n \"Hello there!\" Ben shouted, waving his hands towards her. He sat alone at a table in the rear of the bar with two menus stacked neatly in the center.\n\nDear lord, what bet did he lose? Why can't I just find a normal man? Sarah walked towards him and feigned a friendly hello. She sat across from him and he slid a menu towards her.\n\n\"Have anything you like my lady, everything here is great.\"\n\n\"Oh, do you come here often?\" Sarah asked. She looked up at him and noticed he looked about the same as his profile picture. His hair was medium length parted at the side and his face covered with a thick, but neatly trimmed, beard. Hes attractive enough, forgot to shave the neck though. And why the blanket? I have to know.\n\n\"The Highground?\" Ben said smiling. \"Cant beat it.\" \n\nOhhh I get it now. Of course. It's a bit, a little weird but funny enough I guess. Sarah smiled. \"So you heard I'm a Star Wars fan and dressed the part eh Ben?\" \n\nBen smiled and cocked his head to the side. \"No my lady, I am Ben Kenobi. Here to save you from the douche bags of the dating world.\" Ben chuckled and sat back in his chair.\n\nUhh, getting awkward. Better change the subject. \"Well...how Jedi like of you.\" I guess? \"So, what do you do for a living Ben?\"\n\n\"I used to train an apprentice but he betrayed me, now I am in between jobs you could say.\"\n\n...... \"Oh.\" Is this guy for real? Does he really believe this will make me attracted to him? \"I'm sorry to hear that, I know in this political climate it can be difficult-\" \n\n\"Oh I'm not brave enough for politics,\" Ben interrupted. He smirked and thought he was hilarious.\n\nAlright....I'm out. \"Ben, I think I am going to go. I appreciate the gesture you have done but I am feeling a little uncomfortable and think it's best if I leave. I'm sorry.\"\n\nBen stared at her and waved his hands in a semi circle. \"You will stay, have a good time, and come home with me tonight.\" \n\nOh this is definitely over. \"No, goodbye Ben.\" \n\nSarah stood up and began to walk away when she heard Ben yelling.\n\n\"Fucking bitch, I dressed up for you! I would have been so nice to you. Go date your douche bags! Fake fan! Whore!\" \n\nAngry, embarrassed, and hurt Sarah left the bar in a hurry. Not looking where she was going she bumped into a man on her way out. Her purse fell and he bent down to pick it up for her.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, its been a rough night,\" She said. \n\nHe handed her the purse back and smiled at her. \"Care to get a drink then?\"\n\nHe's handsome, seems nice. The night can't get any worse, why not? \"Anywhere but here.\" \n\n\"Works for me.\" he said. \"I forgot to ask, whats your name?\"\n\n\"Sarah, and you?\"\n\n\"Luke.\"\n\nSarah smiled. A new hope.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
some songs tell a story, like One by U2 Fast Car by tracey Chapman, The last stand by Sabaton. or hell even last Friday night by katy perry. Write a short story that encapsulates the story of a song of your choice. Bonus points for using actual lyrics from the song in your narrative, but be sure to bold them for people unfamiliar with your particular song.	[WP] Tell the story of a song.	[ "First post in this sub. I hope you like it. I'm also not a native speaker so corrections are apreciated.\n\n---\n\nKnowing that you have few hours left in this world is not a pleasant feeling.\n\nThis cell has been my home for the last twelve years. Around a third of my life has been spent here, as I wait for the chair. The judge said I'm a murderer. The governor was more eloquent. \"A despicable animal that has no place in society\". So I know there is no last minute pardon for me. I didn't kill her but nobody seemed to care.\n\nThat wait is almost over now. The tray that carried my last meal sits in my bed, empty now but still carrying the smell of the steak that I just ate and vomited. I pace in my cell up and down. There is nothing else to do. Two long strides, turn, to long strides, turn, two long strides. A routine going ad nauseam. I don't really now how much time I have left, there are no clocks here, but I now it's not long. The priest already came but I sent him away.\n\nI hear steps in the hallway and two guards stop in front of my cage. Cuffs in my wrists and ankles as I walk. They strap me to the chair. It's unconfortable but I don't think it's a problem. The cowl goes over my head and then it hits me. I'm going to die. I try to move but I can't. I try to scream but only a whimper comes out. I try to pray but there is no answer.\n\nThe switch clicks\n\nFlash before my eyes", "\"You're a monster.\" A Union man in the cardigan and penny shoes begins to crawl on his back to the wall. Along the long table strewn with dead bodies walks a man with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other. \"You have no soul!\"\n\nOn the wall near the Union man is a wall mounted radio. As he reaches out to grab the handle, an EMP grenade disables the technology in the room. This also knocks out the lights and their PDAs. The Union man scrambles to the wall and puts his back to it. In a last attempt he shouts, \"YOU'RE BEING USED DEIMOS!\". The Union man slowly moves his arm to the right.\n\nThe Union man feels iron touch his neck and sees the red glow of Deimos' Security glasses. \"Glad you remember the name. Most of the Union call me Bastard, funny that. My men call me Captain, and the Director calls me his creation.\" He rubs the blade up and down the Union man's neck. \n\nThe Union man spits in the face of Deimos. \"There's a reason the Director only gives you companies that are as good as dead. You're nothing. A real rebel would've shot me instead of wasting an EMP grenade.\" Deimos wipes the spit from his face as he removes his glasses. His eyes stare into the Union man like fire and ice. \"You throw your men's lives like dice. You don't even care about the lives lost. You're never thinking about the cost.\" The Union man is breathing heavily. The Union man slowly feels the area to the right with his hand. \n\n\"Is that right?\" Deimos puts his boot the Union's man's chest. \"Tell me. Why do I stare sleepless into darkness of the moon? Why do they cheer me on?\"\n\n\"Because you're a goddamn bastard that's what.\" The Union man grips the gun he was reaching out for. \n\nDeimos pierces the man's neck as the Union man fires off a shot, hitting him in the shoulder. He staggers as he removes the sword and kicks the dead body. \"This is what I get for providing refuge for a burned out union man.\" Deimos says to himself as he grips the long table and uses it to support his way across the dark hall. \"Godfuckingdamnit. This is what I get for being Dawson's Christian's pride.\" Deimos sheathes his sword and pistol and removes a crowbar from his toolbelt. Slowly he's able to open the shut down airlock. \n\nLight temporarily blinds Deimos as he stumbles to an intersection. A group of Moon Miners armed with makeshift shotguns, pickaxes, axes made from floor tiles, wire, and metal rods, and glass shard spears round the corner and stop themselves to salute. Deimos returns the salute. \n\n\"Are the launch chips found?\" Deimos asks as he rubs his bloody shoulder. \"I'll need escort to the medical bay.\" The men are slow to answer as no one wants to speak first, but eventually a bald man with a gruff beard and bloodshot eyes answers,\n\n\"Afraid not. One of the Heads had to have had it, but we can't find the Chief Engineer. Damn crafty bastard probably built a safe room in maintenance somewhere.\" The men nod their heads in agreement. \n\nDeimos points to a couple of the less experienced miners and points to himself. \"We're going to Medbay. The rest of you. Get on that Rogue A.I. and find Thomas.\" The miners except the ones pointed to run off shouting and carousing as Deimos watches them leave and sighs. He pours his hip flask onto his wound as he holds onto the wall and walks with the two men down the hallway. It's badly damaged but there's no hole that would cause Oxygen Deprivation. The two youngsters offer to help him walk but he refuses. After a few minutes of walking,\n\n\"Am I a bad man?\" Deimos ventures to the two youngsters. \n\n\"Sir, I-\"\n\n\"Do not call me sir.\" Deimos gave the one who spoke. \"David.\" David sucked in his cheeks and looked down. \"I'm not here to be your master. You two. You just blindly obeyed orders, for what? No backbone. No iron.\"\n\nCecil interrupts, \"To be fair si-\".\n\n\"I AM NOT YOUR SIR.\" Deimos kept walking after shouting at Cecil. The two youngsters look to one another. \"The lack of sunshine on the moon really does make a man go insane. Three years a mining tour on the roid or a moon and your mind is mush. As soon as I get the dogs off your back, what do you do?\" Deimos looks to the two men. \n\nDavid ventures to speak, \"You just know what you're doing. We aren't as smart as you.\"\n\n\"I'm not smart, David. Don't tell yourself that.\". There's a pause before David speaks again,\n\n\"Sir, if we're in medical bay and have the time, could we run a test? Methinks your body doesn't make alcohol.\" Cecil and Deimos gives David weird looks. \"Hear me out. You're always drinking, right? Maybe it's because you're always two drinks too sober.\" Deimos runs his free hand across his face before continuing to walk. \"Shame that three drinks it too little and four is too much for you.\"\n\n\"Shut up David.\" says Cecil. Cecil catches up with Deimos and asks, \"S-. Deimos. I was considering the uhm. Casualties. I mean, couldn't we do this without violence?\" They rounded a corner. \"I get the Union men can't turn you into a whore or company man, but couldn't we compromise? We don't have it THAT bad.\"\n\nDavid interjects, \"I haven't seen the sun in weeks.\"\n\n\"I'm no poet. I've just got this burning in my veins like they're filled with gasoline.\" Deimos looks to the two men and stops. \"With the spark I've made the biggest fire the Union has ever seen. We're going to teach them a lesson and Light up the night. Nothing was ever fixed by doing it how your late father did it. I'll be God breathing life into hummus.\" \n\nAnd so Deimos 'Burning Man' Tymon, David, and Cecil walked in silence. Only thing on Deimos' mind at the moment was why the Director kept promoting him. What game was he being played into? And was he was bad as the Union men told him he was?\n\n----\n\nSorry there's not really a plot. I combined a lot of songs instead of just using one like the prompt said. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] While roaming the depths of Hell, you happen upon a small white notebook in a shallow hole, with Lucifer's name written on the cover. It's his old diary.	[ "He walked past the decorative warped skull pillars and the iconic gargoyle lava fountain into the main hall. The red carpet that ran up to the throne was made from blonde hair dyed red with blood. \n\nThen of course there was the lord of hell himself, strained face covered in a sheen of sweat. This was made all the more noticeable because of the fact that all his bodily fluids were made of liquid fire.\n\n\"You haven't told anyone have you?\" the King of the Underworld whispered, fidgeting with his barbed tail. \n\nThe man smiled, \"no, I haven't told any body.\" \n\nThe devil raised an eyebrow.\n\nMax sighed irritably, \"I haven't told a single soul.\"\n\nThe devil raised all three eyebrows.\n\n\"Ok, alright,\" he pinched the bridge of his nose, \"I told the geeks who created Vista to create digital copies\"\n\n\"But have you released them?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Okay then,\" said Satan, \"We have a deal, you get to possess a body as long as you do not release that journal.\"\n\n\"Don't you fret Lucy, no-one is seeing that diary,\" the man said grinning.\n\nThe fallen angel muttered something about how it was a 'journal' and that Voldemort had one, then granted the boon. \n\nThe man with the toothbrush mustache grinned looking at the vast amount of vessels. He needed someone with power, and influence. The Trump kid would do.", "\"Dear diary, \n\n\nI honestly can't understand my Dad. He said I shouldn't be wandering the outskirts of the Silver City, and yet he made me Captain of the Guard. What am I supposed to do? \nMore importantly, why does the Guard even exist in the first place? What is there besides us?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Dear diary,\n\n\nI felt something new today, something I don't have a name for. \nI went to the Edge again, trying to understand my purpose in this. I sat there, my feet dangling over the vast Emptiness of the Dark, my wings gently flapping at my back. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear them. Whoever they are, I can hear them. My body felt cold, and I started shaking at that sound. I flew away.\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Dear diary,\n\nThere's something wrong with me, but I don't know what it is. My Dad said I shouldn't worry about a thing, that he has it all planned and I should trust him, but... How can I? He won't tell me anything. He says I'm his favorite son, the brightest star in his Creation. It makes me happy, but what if...? The Voices in the Dark whisper to me.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Dear diary,\n\nI fought with Michael today. He caught me listening to the Voices and their whispers. I tried to tell him I didn't mean to Disobey, but he wouldn't listen to me. So we fought. He told Father about it, and I was scolded. What am I, a child?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Dear diary,\n\nI saw my Father playing with something in the Halls of Creation. It was a black tapestry, filled with tiny glowing lights. I asked him what that was, but he wouldn't tell me. He said it was a surprise.\nI hate surprises.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"It's been six days since I last wrote here. \n\nHe has betrayed us. He said we were his favorite children, his favorite creation, made out of pure fire. We were glowing stars in the Silver City. Perfect beings, and now... Now he has created... Mudlings. They were obviously inspired by us, but there's just something wrong about them. Something lacking. They're less than us. They're... They're made out of mud!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"This can't go on. I think he has lost his mind. He demanded that we kneel before the mudlings. Kneel! We are pure! We are perfect! We are beyond divine! And he wants us to kneel before walking mud? The Voices were right, it seems. He has betrayed us. But I think I can fix this. I have a plan.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"It worked! He cast the mudlings away!\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"One of the younger mudlings killed the other. There's a red substance running inside of them. It's not fire. It looks like red water, and it tastes like iron. He cast the mudling away, but why? The mudling had never killed anything before then. He was working the land, doing his best to please him. But he wouldn`t be pleased. He... He seems partial to the smell of death, for some reason I can't understand... The Voices warned me about it. They said Death was his ultimate goal. But why? Why create, only to destroy? I can't understand it. And I can't talk to him anymore.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"This has gone too far. He found some of my brothers talking to the mudlings, teaching them how to survive in that terrible land, and he... He unmade them. He dismissed them out of existence. Why? Why do I have tears in my eyes? Why do I cry? What is this emptiness I feel inside my heart?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I talked to some of my brothers. Azazel and Samael are eager to leave. But where can we go? And Michael... We need to get rid of Michael before he finds out.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n\"This is the end. Michael told him about us. He summoned me and stripped me of my wings, but it was of little consequence. I forged new wings for myself. Wings of Fire and Shadow. The Voices showed me how. Now I see the Truth. Now I see what they meant from the beginning. He is in love with Death. He... He needs to destroy. I cannot abide by that. I cannot. \n\nTomorrow we fight.\"\n\n " ]	2
	[WP] A super villain takes the day off	[ "The air crackled with energy well before he arrived, and Frederick Roberts, AKA the Red Titan sighed derisively as his nemesis landed with earth shattering force, splintering the concrete and throwing up clouds of dust in every direction. \n\n\"What nefarious deeds are you up to, Red Titan?\" Golden Bolt shouted, pointing his finger dramatically in his well rehearsed, somebody-please-take-a-picture-of-me way. Fred shriveled his nose and took a sip of his coffee, then tightened his scarf as a slightly too chill breeze cut into his chest. He looked back into the Starbucks at the room full of cowering citizens, and then back at Bolt. \n\n\"TRYING to enjoy my coffee,\" he said at last, walking onwards down the street. Bolt stood where he was in surprise, unsure if he had been spurned or ignored, then quickly walked behind him. \n\n\"You drink coffee? I'm not buying it! Did you rob them? Did he rob you?\" he shouted back towards the patrons of the bar who all shook their heads. Fred, who hadn't broken his gait didn't bother to look backwards, announcing as he went:\n\n\"Bolt, if you're so eager to pick a fight I was texting Roxstarr and he said he was going to crash a concert this evening. Why don't you go deal with that?\" \n\n\"I... I will. Thanks for the warning I think...\" he commented, then in a flash of electricity he soared into the sky and away. Shortly thereafter, his walk took him to a nearby grocery store where he stopped to get what he would need for dinner. It had been a long time since he had cooked for himself, and he was interested to see if he still remembered how. From the moment he walked into the store though, there was terror and frightened silence wherever he went, as onlookers fled or froze in terror. Good, he thought with a slight twist of his lips into a smile, that they know their place, but their fear in this instance was more of a nuisance than a pleasure. When at last he made it to the frozen foods section and looked about for an associate to ask for help, the one he made eye contact with fainted in abject fear. \n\n\"Oh for crying out loud, I'm not here to subjugate you people today,\" he called out to the onlookers brave enough to stick around and he spied out of the corner of his eye a flash of red and a dash of green that quickly ducked out of sight the moment he looked. \"I know you're there, Crimson Driver and Transferitops,\" he added as the two heroes awkwardly stepped out of hiding. \n\n\"Just keeping an eye on you,\" Driver said with clear malice in her tone, and he shrugged, making a mental note to drop her in a vat of acid sometime soon. \n\n\"I gathered that,\" he commented, heading to the front to pay for his purchases. \n\nWhen at long last, he had cooked his dinner and sat alone in his penthouse suite atop his Tower of Doomination™, he finally felt that he could relax, but he had hardly gotten into the first bite when from the shadows a familiar voice greeted him. \n\n\"Taking the day off?\" the caped and cowled fighter asked. \n\n\"Nobody else is, it seems,\" he replied wearily, cutting into his overdone porkchops. \"You heroes make it incredibly difficult to live a normal life.\" \n\n\"You're really not in a position to be saying that. Last week, you-\" \n\n\"Yes, kidnapped the mayor, threatened to blow up city hall, and you heroes did a good job of squashing me. Oh I haven't forgotten, but isn't your job to protect the status quo? What good is harassing me when I'm not doing anything going to do?\" The man in black with glowing green eyes grew silent, and Fred wondered briefly if he had left. \n\n\"Are you okay man?\" he asked. \n\n\"Yes, I'm fine,\" Fred replied with a roll of his eyes.\n\n\"It's just... this normal thing is freaking us out. Don't you have lackeys and servants to run errands for you? Don't you have a cook? Because you kinda burned that-\" At the observation, Fred gave up trying to eat and spit the extremely overdone pork to the ground.\n\n\"Do you heroic types have that little to do without one of us to keep you busy?\" Again, silence, and thus an affirmation was the caped man's reply. \"Don't worry, you'll be hearing from me soon enough. I have a plan for you and all your little friends, but for now I'm trying to enjoy my day off.\" He could almost swear he felt a smile on the dark figure's invisible face before he felt his presence depart, and he pushed his plate aside and lifted a glass of cheap wine. \n\nThe city really was beautiful at night. He was going to enjoy setting it on fire tomorrow." ]	1
	[WP] There are only two people left in the world and they're both countries apart from each other. The only way they can reach each other is by boat or plane and neither of them know how to drive/pilot it.	[ "“Goodnight,” she whispered, and the screen went black as she ended the call, and the window returned to the bright white of our lengthy chat log. I could feel my cheeks still aching from the smile I had put on hours ago. Dear God, I thought in a daze. I love her so much. \nI suppose I should consider myself lucky that the only other person left on Earth was not only gorgeous, but kind and charismatic. Next to her, I was nothing, I was nobody. She was ethereal, a goddess among men, the kind of woman that poets wrote about, an angel. She was perfection itself. \n\nThe only problem was that she lived on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.\n \nPerhaps it was another stroke of luck that the only other survivor was American. In the last few months I had watched the last traces of any other survivors disappear, some of them from India, others from Armenia, their last outgoing signals fading away as they failed to return to their laptops. We had both held out hope that they had just gone on an excursion for more food or water, or that their electricity had faltered. As the weeks passed, that hope dwindled, but in a way, I didn’t mind; it meant that I got to have her all to myself. \n\nBefore The Fall, engineers had worked tirelessly to ensure that electricity, water filtration, and basic manufacturing, among other modern necessities, were able to run indefinitely without intervention. That meant that I still got to treasure all of the little luxuries that made life worth living: flushing toilets, running water, cold food, and best of all, the Internet. That’s how the last of us communicated, scattered among the last few surviving chatrooms and forums. There was really no way to count survivors until we dwindled down to the last few hundred, then to the last tens, and then to just the two of us. And by God, it’s a gift that it’s her, not Hyke from Armenia, that I get to spend my last days with. \n\nShe and I keep joking that we should meet up, the last two humans on Earth, spend the last of our days together. We were best of friends, after all, it was only right that we got to meet face to face, right? Of course, I would need to either pilot a plane, or sail some kind of ship, and make it all the way from London to Boston without some subsequent crash or disaster. A year ago, something so brazen would have sounded impossible. Had someone suggested it to me, I would have laughed just as heartily at the suggestion humanity would fall.\n\nClosing out the chat window, I settled down in my chair, and pulled the heavy equipment I had been hiding from her view out from under my desk. It took only a few minutes for the flight simulator to boot up, and I was ready to start practicing my landings. \n\nI promise, I’ll see you soon, love, I vowed silently. We don’t have to be alone for the end of the world. " ]	1
	[WP] Walking home from the bar, a stranger bumps into you and presses something into your hand. "Forgive me," he says ,"but they will come for it and I can no longer keep it safe," and runs off into the night.	[ "It felt sharp and their words scared me in a way. Considering the time and the place and that I knew going out was a bad idea, seeing her after so long and now this...no wonder my hand refused to open. I looked up at the stars instead. \nI slunk down in a gutter and pointedly dropped whatever it was behind me and lit a cigarette. Halfway through my curiosity and aversion clenched down. Picking it up the texture of the curb revealed it could scrape. Metal then, probably. Probably some drunk wannabe-yogi's trinket of course, so my eyes looked down. \n\nThere was a pit in the center of my palm looking into some Mandelbrot hellishness. Strange and ominous motions and the latent fear of insanity. But I walked out of her hovel clear-headed and determined. Yes? \n\nLooking at the sky after some time it occurred to me there were no stars. I heard...howls? Warbling of some kind in the distance...even though I felt it in my marrow. Like low feedback off a shit guitar cab. \n\nIts in my pocket and its been some time since that night. Maybe. I know I haven't stopped walking at least. There is no sun.\n\nI'm almost out of cigarettes. \n\n \n\n \n", "I used to think bad things happened to me all the time. I used to think that we lived in a pretty bad place and any little thought of something not going my way used to automatically put me in a bad mood. And I especially used to think that random things that happened to me out of the blue could be nothing but bad. Especially if a random stranger happens to bump into you.\n\nI was walking home one night with my buddy Bob after a particularly brutal workday from our favorite pub McKormick & Smith I had gotten chewed out by my boss on a recent paper that I had submitted for review and was on the verge of being fired for ineptitude and my friend Bob had been chastised for a report he had put together that had a typo in it. Needless to say, we drank a lot that night and basically said, “At least we’re not in North Korea!” We decided to just trek it home since getting the cardio up they say always helps the hangover in the morning. We decided to skip the Uber ride home.\n\nThat’s the night everything changed. The night we met Renton David Scott.\n\nWe were staggering a little haphazardly down an empty barren icy street in the middle of winter. When all of a sudden a figure starts running towards us after bursting through an alley. He spots us and quickly runs up and says, “Forgive me, but they will come for it and I can no longer keep it safe,” and then without saying a word, runs off into the night.\n\nBob and I look at what the stranger handed to us, and stared in awe. It was a hard round metallic shiny green ball no larger than a baseball. It looked like a big pearl that had been plucked from a giant clam.\n\nNot sure what to do, we kept on going home. I set the orb on my nightstand turned off the lights and then went to sleep.\n\nThe next morning, I totally forgot all about it. But for some reason, I felt great. I didn’t have that back pain I normally had. The sun actually seemed amazingly bright. I looked out the window for the first time in months and noticed that the sky was actually a beautiful shade of blue. Why hadn’t I ever noticed that?\n\nAs I was leaving, I failed to notice however that the orb was no longer just on my desk, it started floating. It was just hovering about an inch above my dresser.\n\nI dashed out the door and went to work. And when I arrived, my cube had all these decorations over it, saying “Congratulations!” And all these notes had been hand written saying how great a paper I had written.\n\nI sat down a little confused, and was sitting confounded when my boss, the one who had almost fired me yesterday said, “Thanks for writing such an awesome paper yesterday, you really saved the day with it.”\n\n“Ummm, you’re welcome?...” my voice trailed off.\n\nThat’s when they caught my eye. Two men in black suits staring at me outside the window. They had come.\n\nI would later learn that it was something called a Positivity Orb that changes anything bad that happened in your life in the last 24 hours to something positive.\n\nIt happened to be the most coveted jewel in the “western universe” — I’m using air quotes here with my fingers of course, because I don’t even fully know what that means. \n\nI didn’t know it yet, but I had been given a new job that night. I had been given the unofficial vocation they call Archon of the Orb and my new job was to protect it with my life.\n\nIn my later years as Orb Archon, I would come to learn that we all have our own internal orbs. They’re invisible and buried deep within us. In fact, they’re at the very core of who we are. But we need to learn how to tap into it. The power needs to be drawn out with years of practice. To start however, it’s simple, you just need to start thinking positively. That’s it. Change out that negative thought for a positive one, and you start having access to the most incredible power in the world. There are masters of their own minds and they have brought out that positivity orb so their life everyday changes negative into positive.\n\nThe alchemists of 12th century Europe almost had it right except they thought they could change physical objects into gold. What they didn’t realize was that the gold was already inside them. They just needed to change their internal chemistry and they would have all the riches in the world. The thing though is that I had the physical Positivity Orb that basically did it for you.\n\nBut that would all come later. Much later. At that moment, however, one of the men in the black suits took out a very small gray device that looked like a gun, and that’s when I knew I had to start running.", "“To many happy returns!” He winked. I think. His face was a little fuzzy. “No, sweetie, it’s on the house.” He insisted and handed me back the extra few bills I had pushed toward him. My phone rang, killing the beautiful moment.\n\n“It’s probably just my CEO calling. I’m practically his right-hand man!” I said.\n\n“Loras! You get your butt home immediately.” My mother yelled. “Your father and I have been waiting to cut the cake for an hour! Where have you been?! Did you have an accident again? Sweetie? Do you need a new pair of pants?”\n\nI turned off the call faster than you could say ”big fat loser” and looked back toward the hot tattooed bar tender, who was very very far away from me now. \n\nOn the way out of the bar I smacked my hand to my forehead repeatedly, wishing everything had been so much different.\n\nThat’s when a man staggered toward me, wearing a trench coat - like in those old gangster movies. \n\n“Forgive me,\" he said in an accent I didn’t recognize. “They will come for it and I can no longer keep it safe.”\n\nAnd then he placed a wadded up piece of paper in my pocket and made a sweeping gesture, as if placing an invisible treasure in the palm of my right hand. \n\nI nodded and gave him my few leftover dollars to which he pocketed with a few sobs and went away.\n\nI watched him run off into the night and promised I would never let myself get that drunk. Ever. \n\nThat night, after a million slices of cake and pizza I couldn’t even make it up the stairs so I just laid on the couch, snoring all sorts of sounds that made our cats always hiss at me. \n\nAnd then I woke up with a splitting headache. The cats hissing. I reached out for my phone. Maybe I would look on Reddit for the best ways to fix a hangover...that’s when I realized my right hand...\n\nMy right hand was black, dead, unmovable. And a small snake-like creature with wings was crawling around it breathing fire. \n\nAnd I realized...that...\n\nI had to be dreaming! Ya, dreaming - that was it. So I tried to fly around, you know because I realized I had to be lucid dreaming. I just had to be.\n\nBut I jumped off the couch and twisted my ankle.\n\nI wasn’t dreaming...\n\nAnd the snake thing was still there, biting my hand. The same hand that weird drunk guy had invisibly handed something to...\n\nSo I reached into my pocket with my other hand and straightened out the note which read:\n\n“She will fix your injuries on three conditions:\nKeep her safe. Keep her fed. And tell no one that you’ve seen the last dragon on Earth.” ", "You know the feeling that you get when you know something isn't right? It's a subconscious thing, like reading rising tensions in a room or feeling the hair on your neck rise.\n\nThat was the feeling that Johnny had the night he walked home from the bar. \n\nIt was warm that winter night, which was fine with Johnny, because he had no coat to wear. The breeze was even a little refreshing in a world that seemed humid and stifling to him lately. It was a hard time for Johnny. His girlfriend had ended the relationship out of nowhere. Just as well- it had been a toxic relationship that had cost him many a close friend. Unfortunately, the thing with relationships is even when you are kind of glad that they are ending, it still hurts on some level. It hurt Johnny on that deep level below where it hits your self-esteem, your security, your very sense of being.\n\nThree nights since that loathsome night that he had discovered that man and his woman united as one on Johnny's own bed and Johnny had been driven out of his own apartment. Three nights spent sleeping in his car parked in an alley behind his favorite bar. Three nights sinking his savings into shit whisky and even worse tequila.\nThe burn of alcohol imbibed and fuzzy mind afterwards was a sure refuge against the deluge of anxieties that plagued him.\n\nEven drunk as he was, Johnny occasionally glanced over his shoulder as he stumbled down the block. It was a short walk to his sedan, but he couldn't deny that suspicion deep in his mind that something was amiss. It set his heart aflutter when he heard another set of boots crunching on the stale snow behind him. Close. How had they gotten that close?\n\nJohnny reached into his pocket and grasped the lock-spine buck knife that he kept in his coat pocket. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw no one, but instinctively knew someone was there.\n\n\"Hello?\" He mumbled aloud.\n\nNo answer of course. Johnny's anxieties were driven from him momentarily as his brain began to order the release of norepinephrine and epinephrine. Something wasn't right.\n\nThe feeling hit him hard and he swung his back to the wall, taking the knife out of his pocket. He did not open it, but hunched himself over and tensed his muscles. \n\nWhat a disconcerting feeling he had! And what a sight was he, the filthy and unkempt man snarling at nothing with a knife in his hand. The steel blade glittered from distant streetlights as he flicked it open and held it at his side, ready to bring it into the belly of an blackguard or vagabond that dared assail him. \n\nThat was, perhaps the most effective deterrent to keep away an assailant and that should speak volumes about just how desperate the stranger was when he appeared six feet away from Johnny, in an instant out of cold air. . It was in that moment that the stranger blinked both eyes forcefully, not unlike the genie from I Dream of Jeannie. Drunk Johnny's hand sprang open as the muscle rebelled and the knife dropped.\n\n\"What-\" Johnny began as shock took him, but the stranger spoke over him, knowing that his form was already becoming ethereal for the last time. As his grip on reality grew weak, he took Johnny's paralyzed hand and pressed something into his palm. \"I'm so sorry.\" The stranger whispered.\n\n\"Forgive me.\" The stranger wept, \"but they will come for it and I can no longer guard it.\" The stranger's might finally gave out and he vanished from the world.\n\nHad Johnny not been severely intoxicated, he would have passed out. As it were, he settled for throwing up where the stranger had stood. As his stomach loosed its contents, a cold sobriety came over him and took him from that pleasurable forgetfulness that had occupied his mind.\n\nYou must protect it. Please. Came a rogue thought unsummoned, the voice of the stranger.\n\nJohnny glanced down with wide eyes at a small figure of young woman in his hand, about the size of a plastic army man. It was made of some bronze alloy. The young woman held the sun on one hand over her breasts and gripped the crescent moon in the other over her face. As he examined it, a feeling of deep fear overcame him and the thought of another seeing it brought him great dread, though he knew not why.\n\nHe shoved the figuring into his pocket and placed his recovered knife into the other. He knew not why he must protect it, but he knew he had to keep it safe. \n\nReaching his vehicle finally, he ducked under the blanket in the back seat that had been his bed and he locked the doors behind him. One thought occupied his mind and kept him awake until the sky turned gray. \n\nWhat is this thing?\n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] A group of people are in a bar, with one boasting about being a major figure in an important historical event. A newcomer overhears and says "I don't remember you."	[ "In Corsica, people knew me as a war hero. When I sat at the bars, or lounges, discussing my tales of valor serving under the armies of Napoleon, people gasp in awe in my adventurous undertakings. At least, that’s what I wanted them to think. It was one of those times, I sat in a small bar near a port, talking with former veterans of the war. \n\n“...and I led the charge of the cavalry into the British lines, singlehandedly winning the battle. You should have seen it. The cries of the horses and men, the slashing of swords, a truly epic battle, to say the least. It was such a decisive course of action that Napoleon himself promoted me. \n\nA veteran next to me spoke up. “Ah, I was in that battle too! Remember the 8th infantry behind you as you charged, and we arrived in that mess to help you clean up?”\n\n“Uh... yeah, yeah! I remember you guys.”\n\nAcross the bar, sitting at the table alone, a man spoke up. “Hmph. I don’t remember you.” \n\nI turned to face him.\n\n“Oh yeah? And - who might you be? You probably don’t even know who I am. The Great Sergeant Michél, you know, the charge of the curassiers in 1811, my one-on-one sword fight with a Russian officer?”\n\nThe man rose and approached us, the candle light was hardly able to illuminate his face, and his beard covered his lower half. He chuckled. “Right, and I also assume you killed an Austrian General with a pistol only 100 meters away too?”\n\nI stuttered. My comrades turned to me in confusion. “Yes, of course I did that! In 1806 during a skirmish in Bavaria I unholstered my pistol and fired across a creek, landing a shot into the Austrian’s chest. Napoleon presented me with an award for valor that day.” The men next to me looked in awe at me. I still had them believing, for now. \n\nThe stranger prevented himself from breaking into laughter. “I do hope you know that the only Austrian general that died in Bavaria was killed by a sword, right? A sword from a Hussar? And believe me I know this, I was there too, and in fact, in know the very man who struck him down. I met him in person, you could say.” The veterans stared at me in confusion.\n\nMerde. He was on to me, but how? How did he know it was not me? The only people in that skirmish was our regiment and the 3rd Hussars, and Napoleon himself. Suddenly I had the curiosity to ask. “Who are you, monsieur?” \n\nThe stranger brought the candle closer to his face, and it was almost as if that beard had disappeared, because I knew who it was. \n\nI remained there, stunned, as did the other veterans. One of the soldiers broke out and almost shouted as he kneeled, “L’emperur!”\n\nIt couldn’t be, Napoleon was in exile, in some obscure island in the Mediterranean. How had he got here?\n\nThe other soldier kneeled as well. I remained in my seat. “How did you get here? Why are you here?” \n\nNapoleon Bonaparte I, Emperor of France, looked almost angry at me, but then he calmed his expression. “Well, ‘Sergeant Michél’, if you must know, I have come to reclaim the throne, and restore France to its rightful state. The order of Europe has been shattered and it is up to me and my Army to restore it. I’ve already assembled some followers outside. And seeing as you are so skilled in combat, you wouldn’t mind leading the Curassiers once again?”\n\nMy mind shot off like a cannon. I stumbled over my own thoughts, and reluctantly said, “Yes, emperur! Anything for you!” I rose and saluted him, and escorted the soldiers out of the bar to meet the rest of the troops. \n\nMy dignity had been saved, Napoleon was a kind emperor, at least. And he had given me a promotion in person, if you could call it that. \n\nLeading an elite cavalry regiment couldn’t be that hard... could it?\n" ]	1
	[WP] The human race has lost the ability to procreate. You are the last person born naturally, and the reason why we can't create life was thought to be lost until your 18th birthday, when it all of a sudden becomes clear...	[ "Abandoned.\n\nThat's what the planet has felt like more and more. House prices plummeted as a generation died. I was the last person to be born naturally. For 10 years before I was born birth rated plummeted until they reached zero. I was born a week after the 2nd last person. News crews attended my birth. I have been analyzed by over 100 scientists. Nothing relevant came out, I was a normal kid. \n\n I pondered why I was born. I was in a class with the 5 other people my age in my town, so we thought a lot about that. No answers. The question was sweminfly going to remain unanswered, dooming humanity to die out slowly,\n \nHowever, the question would soon have an anawer. I looked out on a pier, pondering life when I turned and saw a guy who said \" you know, I could've sworn power plants weren't built next to the water supply a few years ago.\"" ]	1
	[WP] In WW2 a USAF plane surveys a desert area. All are killed but the pilot when engaged by Luftwaffe. He’s forced to land at a deserted airfield where a man helps repair his craft. After returning to base to tell his tale he discovers the man is a long dead war hero and the airfield doesn’t exist.	[ "[One small correction from a vet: The USAF wasn't properly incorporated until 1947. Though Army divisions specific to aircraft had flown in some of our forgotten-by-mainstream conflicts since 1907, during this period it would be the Army Air Forces (AAF). That said, I don't mind whatever terminology people use. \"Air Forces\" in plural was in use.]\n\n\"Well your fingerprints match,\" the flight doc said.\n\nI moved my closed mouth around nervously, my tic. \"I don't remember the fingerprints thing.\"\n\n\"Well, they're on file, and the archives got back to us. So... welcome out of prison?\"\n\nIn all fairness, I'd been confined under medical watch since flying into Germany. Out of confusion, I'd complied with the English-speakers up to the point I was taken into custody.\n\n\"Look, I was surveying in Libya, I think. At least after I took fire. I don't even have the fuel to get to Germany.\" \n\nWe'd rehashed this time and time again, but now, told I was released, I figured I could get more details.\n\nThe flight doc scoffed. \"Nor is there any desert near here. Let alone an airstrip.\" His tone made it clear he wasn't yet totally convinced I wasn't a fraud or fraudulent lunatic. \"That could have been anywhere. That Arab guy could've been anyone.\n\n\"Except Jesus,\" I said confidently. \"Man, did he cuss like a sailor. What an articulate man.\"\n\nThe doc shrugged. He'd made clear before he wasn't a religious man, itself not uncommon but not exactly something folks admit back where--when--I'm from. \"In any case, whether that was a bridge between places or before you crossed here, it's weird to have a fueling stop. Since the Feds don't seem to care about you, if they can get back there, they will.\n\n\"How do I know this is as it seems...\" I muttered. Louder: \"How do I know your Feds going back there won't help the Nazis? You had jet-fighters escort me down. Lots more on your weird pavement. How am I to know you're not Luftwaffe?\"\n\n\"We're not digging into that again; see for yourself,\" said the doc. \"Anyhow, the powers-that-be decided to give you run of the base. You're forewarned that the Germans have been our allies-\"\n\n\"Since when?\" I interjected, just barely not roaring. Though I was short as pilots go, I was bulky. And loud, when I needed to be.\n\nThe flight doc, one rank above me as a Major, sighed. \"Since the Russians started taking over swathes of land? Of course, you expected that in your time. That all went very bad, but Europe is approaching the point it acts like a big country of our equal at this point.\"\n\n\nNow, all officers need a basic grasp of strategy. And a unified Europe of independent nations was strange. Made into staes, I could see it. But Europe had a new war about every three years or so. Another oddity for the list.\n\nCaptain Jaqui McDill replied with his usual patient voice, apparently 'Psychiatry' was a valid discipline now, instead of full of the quackery of similar things I remembered. He certainly had proven to be medical... and he surely wasn't one of those creepy Nazis... \n\nIn all fairness, I was allegedly a Major as well now, but there's no way I could justify that yet. For what it's worth, I was just a normal guy. A heavy drinker who smuggled opium across the desert. Who commanded okay, but never really lead. 'Major' was a ploy, or unjustified. Probably.\n\n\"Dude,\" Jaqui went back to being informal. \"If the Federal people say you're the real deal, and you had unknowable facts about the crewmen you had bail out, then you can probably man-up and take reality.\"\n\nFor a moment I was thankful that unlike most people who I'd spoken with, Jaqui didn't treat me as either a hero or a child.\n\n\"I'm not sure that all of those phrases are real, but I think I understand?\" I was trusting that I was now free, and trying to adapt to thinking of him by his--really foreign--name.\n\nDespite officer culture, I'd thus far refused to use his first name. Jaqui? I'd shared bases with a few n... sorry, I guess the appropriate term is now 'black people', and didn't dispute their potential after a few brawls. But still. A doctor? Within seventy years? Inconceivable! Even in my time, the Civil War clearly hadn't ended: the South was barely set back. And I'd thought that was okay before I served alongside it victims. Seeing all the manpower in view walking around just outside in the distance, in a few more shades than in my day, was definitely more efficient than suppression--and it was possible!\n\nJaqui sighed. \"You're free, and have been under my watch a while. I'm not calling you by your rank anymore, Bob. I'll keep in touch but you need to face reality on your own terms. It's twenty-eighteen.\"\n\nI grumbled. Folks here had certainly shown be a lot of things, incomprehensible things. And with straight faces. And nominally American accents, though things had shifted. From countless evidences of Nazi genocide, from letting me meet a Jewish survivor, from keeping me from Army technicians shouting incomprehensible things. To a degree I was thankful to this \"Air Force\" (again a weird name). Incontestable, however, was that my former crewmates had exaggerated my moral fiber but had enough facts that even in their long-ago deaths seemed to confirm their identity. \n\nDespite this, I didn't want to admit all of this absurdity.\n\n\"Okay, Jaqui,\" I was under his command after all, and supposedly in his unit. I conceded to his claim I was posthumously promoted to his rank and tried to grasp the situation. \"What do I do first? There's nothing for me in this place. At least back home I had a job lined up.\" I didn't mention that said job was somewhat criminal, not to anyone military.\n\nHe just started laughing, which sounded far deeper than a slim giant of a man usually did. Had Americans gotten weird? They'd definitely gotten very tall, at least most of them.\n\n\"First, try this. I'd wanted to get you one for a while, but now you don't have many restrictions. Eat up.\"\n\nHe handed me a field ration. Well, it was listed as an MRE. We went out to the hospital patio and he handed me a bottle of water.\n\n\"Alright, so, for a hot meal you need to pour water into the bag... well just read the instructions.\"\n\nThere was a little green bag inside the thick plastic. MREs are in really thick bags. The translucent green pouch had instructions such as 'do not use inside' and 'flammable gas'.\n\nWhen I asked why, he 'got all chemical on me'. Something about the bag releasing hydrogen gas.\n\nNext, the snacks came out of the pouch, the packets of \"mashed potatoes\" and \"Salisbury steak\" went in, and we waited.\n\n\"Bob, you are going to love this stuff. It's not as good as from the chow-hall, and that pales in comparison to off-base or my gramps' homecooked meals, but it's really good. Now that you aren't so scrawny and your shrunken stomach is gone, you're going to be blown away.\"\n\nI scoffed. \"Good field rations? Good chow halls? This is going to be warm, and it feels wet, but I really doubt that.\" After a moment I added, \"Jaqui.\" Obviously it was unnecessary but even if I took this culture as better than the past--cultures usually got better than the past--I needed practice.\n\nFirst I opened the M&Ms. Those were still in rations? Well, they tasted similar. I left the gum for later.\n\nMajor Jaqui McDill was right. That Meal-Ready-to-Eat tasted like the future." ]	1
	[WP] At the local game store, you sit down with some friends ready to play a game of Pandemic. While setting up, in walks Bill Gates. He pulls up a chair to your table and says "Ladies and Gentlemen, let's save the world."	[ "\n\n\n\nI don't know what to do. This isn't how life works. Jeff Bezos shouldn't be rolling Monopoly dice to see how many children are infected with some mutant abomination between rabies and the plague. BIll Gates, the champion of philanthropy, the man who publicly devoted his life towards eliminating human suffering shouldn't be there with such a grin. It was like any passionate sporting event to them. I saw Bill erode an entire tribe of people he built up into a chaotic ring of warlords.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe cruel thing is how civilized they were about all this. As it dawned on them, that I was not who they thought I was, they did not order their guards to execute me. They thought it was funny. I was a wild card in their game night. George Bush Sr. put his hand on my shoulder and said to me \"Don't worry. It really ain't too bad.\" His faded Texan accent was disturbingly soothing, despite the horrors I personally witnessed him commit. At his age, he was grasping at a cane, and his head tilted under its own weight. \"I had the same thought when I started playing too. You learn there are good reasons behind all this.\" I couldn't yell. I didn't speak. Though, I didn't feel scared. It was unnatural how normal the situation seemed to everyone, but it was enough to keep me from breaking down. The guard approached, and Bush put his frail hands up to tell him not to do anything. \"Come with me.\" He said. I did just that, while mindlessly absorbing the surroundings.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOne of the curved in jumbotrons announced that flooding broke out in the Philippines. The massive board spanning an entire New York City block, made from glass and dizzying circuitry lit red in its bottom left corner. The infection rate has gone up. A hologram appeared above Indonesia on the map. A torrential flood spurted out of glass. The Jumbotron then displayed in big red letters \"Monsoon in Philippines has spread to Indonesia.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMark Zuckerberg and Beyonce, apparently they were on a team, both seemed relieved by the natural disaster. On one of the massive displays, Donald Trump was discussing with a Fox news anchor about his remorse over the recent tragedy in Clements, Colorado. A frustrated group of former veterans that had turned into Aryan Nation Skinhead had tried to shoot up a military research lab. The U.S. soldiers manning facility were apparently very comfortable with napping on the job considering the only plausible threat they could conceive of had dissolved in 1991. 21 people had died, and half the facility had fire or chemical damage. Trump tapped his thigh twice with 2 fingers while maintaining contact with the reporter. I had been able to pick up the gesture from a few of the other players. It seems that Trump had ended his team's turn. Kim Jung Un, looked happily at the screen, as the next news cycle rolled in.\n\n\n\n\n\"Well, I believe were here.\" Bush said. I hadn't realized where I was going during all this. I just followed and observed in my own bubble, but now I stood before a dense metal door with 3 large bolts by its side. \"We aren't monsters.\" Bush said, his cane shaking in his hand. Warren Buffet gestured across the complex at Bush, demanding without words that the former President should return to game board immediately. I can only wonder what stratagem the Oracle of Omaha wanted to flaunt. \"I can't be long here, but you should know, nobody here wants to see you hurt. You're going to be in there for a few hours. Maybe days. There is food. There is water. It's chili though. Have you ever worked in the meat packing industry? Restaurant? It's an old food vault from the olden days when I was still young, well, younger\" \n\n\n\n\n\nI said nothing. \n\n\n\n\n\"Yeah, I didn't think you'd talk much. You didn't look much of one when I saw you enter either.\"\n\n\n\n\nHe nudged me towards the vault. Like a cattle to slaughter, I walked in. It just was so easy to go along. \"Before you go in, here's a pen and an old booklet I keep on me. It may have a few pen marks in it, but it's still good. Gives you something to do.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe door closed, and I was alone. There was no light. Nothing, but a gentle breeze from all sides. I was forced to listen to the reverb coming from the outside. That was the white noise for my slumber.\n\n\n\n\nAt some unknown hour I could hear Bill Gates scream mockingly \"Ladies and Gentlemen, let's save the world!\" The room burst into laughter. Only a few minutes later, maybe an eternity, Bill was standing in the doorway looking down at my shivering stupor. \"Satoshi, we'll call you that for now. I think you will make a great wild card in this. It's too predictable. We're making you your own team.\"\n\n\n**End of Part 1\n" ]	1
	[WP] Unicorns exist but are the most vicious and well adapted killing machines in the universe.	[ "*Wild Hunt\n\nI was running, brambles digging into my skin. Blood dripped across the ivy and moss, the half-chewed remains of my friends draped maniacally across sycamore trees. The sound of them, hooves pounding the earth into submission, wicked black horns slitting through the darkness. We'd all been told of the dangers when we left the safety of the Sanctuary. \n\nFear made my hands slick, and I tried my best to weave silently through the thicket, my heart snapping ever time a twig broke. Leaves crunched from behind, beside or before me every few seconds. Maybe they enjoyed this, the brutal, naked power of the hunt. \n\nThen I felt it, a heavy, precise clop* of a cloven hoof. Nickering, an equine giggle that echoed through the dark. They'd found me.\n\nEyes, yellow and brown, iris wrapped around empty pupils. Punched into the sides of a skeletal face, wide, detached mouths opening with row upon row of sharp, grinding teeth. The skin and fur peeled away like a mask, revealing the pale glow of bone. It cut into my flesh, sets of razors scissoring muscle from fat, a fat purple tongue lapping up the blood.\n\nI swung my hand, colliding weakly in the eye. It screamed a tortured, too human yowl. Others seemed to pelt out of the brush, my legs lifting me up, propelling me forwards. I seemed to fly, feet gripping the earth and loose stones, toes rolling over roots and leaves. I ran and ran and ran, the bloodthirsty band following close behind, manes stained with gore whipping on the wind. \n\nLungs gasping in dust and pain, I found the tallest tree and began to climb. Footholds shifted in the bark, my fingers prying the wood apart. Soon, I was as high as I could go, the branch that held me wavering uneasily. \n\nA hundred rang in a ring around its base, sleek silver coats glittering like trapped moonlight, eyes winking with yellow flame-like fireflies. Horns pierced the canopy.\n\nThe sound of a scream got caught in my throat. It yelped out into the rising dawn, unheard, far, far away from anyone who could help. With a sudden, guttural horror, I realized what would happen next.\n\nThey were waiting for me to try to escape. Once I reached the ground, they would pounce. I could not escape. There was no way out.\n\nI started weep. The Unicorns, the Black Goat Horses of the Dawn howled in joy. And the forest grew silent again, almost in mourning. \n\nIt knew too well what happened next." ]	1
	[WP]"This whole conflict can be resolved if they just talked to each other!" That's the premise: finding a way for them to communicate.	[ "Vashur cut down the soldier with a swift swing of his blade and continued up the exterior stairwell. Another life lost He thought to himself as he heard the clatter of boots on metal grates above him. How many must die? He looked down as he watched more imperials surround Cort. They held their ground, rifles aimed but not fired. Cort looked up to meet Vashur's eyes. A sad smile on his lips moments before he was consumed by a fireball, taking the imperials with him.\n\n\"You go no farther terrorist!\" The soldier who stood at the top of the scaffolding was clearly a commander of some sort. The hate in his eyes was not one of religious fanaticism or patriotism. Vashur saw the brothers this man had lost in his eyes. This man personally hated Vashur.\n\n\"Sorry.\" Vashur said quietly before jumping into action. In a quick fluid motion he leaped onto the edge of the railing and grabbed the floor above him. He swung himself up and over the railing to land on the same floor as the soldier. The commander took a second too long to react and Vashur was upon him. It was quick, that was the least he could do.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nVashur stepped into the communications control room. He immediately began to power on the systems. \"Ah, so I get the honor of not only killing The Wire but also The Blade. A glorious day for the Empire, indeed.\" \n\nVashur fell back into a defensive stance and raised his blade. The two soldiers that flanked the Regulator raised their rifles but the Regulator held out his hand to signal them to stay back. \"You didn't kill Cort. That honor remains with him.\" Vashur said calmly. His rage held in check as always.\n\n\"Yes, you terrorists do like the distinction of killing yourselves instead of facing justice.\" The Regulator said with a sneer as he unhooked the metal rod he wore on his hip.\n\n\"Yes, because those regulations you hold so dear serve justice? Was it justice when the Regulators assinated\" but Vashur was cut off by the sound of the metal rod extending into a full spear.\n\n\"Careful, Blade.\" the Regulator said smoothly, \"Insurgency Codes, Section 8, prohibits speaking or hearing high treason.\" The two soldiers eyed the Regulator nervously.\n\n\"That must be a new Regulation, I don't have it memorized.\" Vashur stepped forward, forcing the Regulator to take a step back. The two soldiers stared at the Regulator. \"You cowards, either you kill him before he makes you commit treason or I kill you for insubordination.\" There was no panic or urgency in the Regulator's voice, just calm authority. It was enough motivation for the soldier to begin their attack. They moved in unison and forced Vashur back giving the Regulator freedom to begin configuring the communication array. They were nervous to open fire, Vashur's reputation for taking more than a few rounds and still able to cut down his opponents.\n\nThe massive screen in the back of the room came to life to show Emperor Gilanis, The Imperial Sun of Zorr, himself. His eyes were tired, and the exhaustion was clear on his face. Yet, his voice was stable and determined despite his appearance. \"My people, the True Light of Zorr, I speak before you with a heavy heart and a sadness that knows no bounds. Repeated attempts by Imperial Regulators to negotiate a peaceful resolution of the conflict brewing within the organization known as the Sun's Shadow have come to an end, but not with compromise or understanding we hoped to achieve.\" The Emperor paused, grief visible on his face.\n\nThe speech diverted the attention of one of the soldiers enough to give Vashur the upper hand. Both quickly fell back into defensive stances as Vashur worked his way to the control panel. \"Only a Regulator would call the indiscriminate slaughter of our ambassador and her envoy, 'attempted negotiations.' Tell me, did you know who it was before you set the fire, or was it a surprise?\" One of the soldiers glanced at Regulator, Vashur used to opportunity to deal a mortal blow.\n\n\"After months of what seemed to be promising talks, the terrorist organization abducted the royal heir and ultimately slew her in their declaration of insurrection against the peaceful people of this great empire.\" The emperor's voice wavered at the death of his sister.\n\n\"Oh, we knew.\" The Regulator said. \"Come now, it was your investigation that started this all. It was in your report.\" \n\nVashur grunted, anger taking hold of his actions. \"The report never made it the Regulators of Internal Affairs.\"\n\nThe Regulator raised a finger. \"But it did, now we are the Regulators of Insurrection.\" He held a wicked smile on his face. The remaining imperial soldier looked back at the Regulator, horror mixed with realization on his face. It was the last expression he would ever wear as the Regulator pierced his heart with his spear. \"Guilty, of violating Section 8.\" The Regulator said calmly. \n\nVashur dashed to the dying soldier and grabbed him as the Regulator pulled the spear from the man. The man did not cry or beg for his life. His eyes met Vashur's and there was understanding in them. Not forgiveness for Vashur's murders nor regret at his own killing of those who fought against the empire, but an understanding. An understanding that these men were not enemies. Perhaps they were on different sides of this struggle, but neither wished for the other's death. The moment passed, ending as quickly as it had came. Now only lifeless eyes stared back at Vashur.\n\nThe Regulator stepped forward. \"Don't pity him. He would have cut you down, even knowing he was in the wrong. His life was on the line, his family's life was on the line. He-\" Vashur sprinted at the Regulator at full speed tackling the man.\n\n\"And so I now declare the Sun's Shadow as a terrorist organization. To fight this group we have created a new Regulation, The Insurgency Codes. I realize these codes are harsher than previous measures. I assure you, I signed them as a last resort. These terrorists hope to destabilize the powers that hold our realm together. They have begun to systematically destroy every communication hub in hopes to cause disorganization to our efforts to stop them.\" The Emperor continued his speech as Vashur struggled with the Regulator. Only able hold his own against the inhuman instrument of law thanks to his own enhancements.\n\n\"You think yourself above the law.\" The Regulator growled as Vashur pulled his blade free of his grasp. He thrust the blade through the Regulator's chest, pinning the enemy to the wall. \"And you think yourself to be the law.\" Vashur spit back at the Regulator.\n\nVashur moved back to the control panel and began bridging the connection to the Emperor's. Feedback rang loudly before the system cut the audio from the display and transferred it to only the panel. There was deafening silence as the Emperor stared Vashur in the face and the world looked on.\n\"Lord of Sunlight...\" Vashur began, struggling to find the words to explain how he failed to protect the heir, how he had failed to protect the woman he loved. \"The Sun's Shadow n-\" an explosion sounded behind him- \"you're enemy!\" By the time Vashur finished yelling the screen was blank. He turned to find the Regulator still pinned to the wall, holding his spear. He had extended it into the power supply, destroying the communications array.\n\n\"That's the last one on the island.\" The Regulator said as he pulled the blade out of his chest, smiling as the the suit began to patch the wound. \n\n\"Shadows should be silent.\"" ]	1
	[WP]You point and pull the trigger. You are stunned by the deafen boom and watch the man you just shot in the back of the head crumble to the ground. You see the smoke rising from your finger. Your imagination can kill and you are having a hard time controlling it.	[ "I just killed that demon. It was terrorizing me far too long. But I finally developed powers strong enough to fight my foes. \n\nI wasn’t always a blooming freedom fighter. I was living a happy and completely average life. But recently, before bed, my family and I would hear strange noises coming from the closet. \n\nMy mother would always say there was nothing there but I knew that she was either deliberately lying to me to keep me happy, or she was oblivious to the fact that there was a demon portal in that closet. Now I know what you’re thinking. Probably that I’m just like the rest of the other kids who has an overactive imagination. And that’s true. But my imagination gives me the power to fight back. \n\nAnd today I fight back. \n\nI wait for my parents to read their stories. Poor fools. They have no idea that they’re only delaying me from protecting them. They told me about imagination yesterday and still they don’t use it to fight off evil. \n\nThey finish up their childish stories. The second they walk out and latching of the door, clicks in, i jump out of my bed and onto the floor. I grab blankey and tuck it into the back of my collar. Every superhero needs a cape, you know. \n\nI creep up next to the door, my ear next to the door in anticipation of hearing growls and roars. Something. But I hear nothing. This could be a ploy by them. \n\nI grab my shoe, pull apart my father’s magic knot, and then put the mouth of the shoe on the closet doorknob. I then ready myself to swing open the door. But suddenly I hear growling. I ready my left gun. Then my right. \n\nI swing open the door and immediately out jumps the frontline of their army. I jump backwards while shooting fadeaway neon bullets. They’re really strong so I need to step it up. I turn my ts ts ts ts ts noise power up to pew pew pew pewpower ups. Those are significantly stronger and their frontlines fall like paper planes in heavy rain. \n\nTheir leader looks around in disbelief and pain. He didn’t know who he was messing with. \n\n“This is my room. And I will protect it.” \n\nI begin to shoot at him. He continues to cry, completely unphased by my PEWPEWPEWs. He looks up while crying. His disbelief was replaced with utter rage. He looks at me and yells, “that’s ENOUGH. \n\nHe’s angry. And the current bullets are only leaving scratches on his knee. He comes closer and I realize how giant the monster is. He’s literally the size of the Statue of Liberty. Before I know it, I’m being shot at. I juke, dive, and evade. \n\nI have to use my rocket launcher. There’s no other way. I run to my playchest and open it up to find my launcher. I find a rocket and ready it up. \n\nI take aim at his weakest spot, his knees that I’d previously and set it off. neeeeeooooooooooo.... Boom!!!. \n\nHe goes down. But I hear more steps. \nI ready my weap— \n\nOh no... it’s mom. She won’t understand. She comes in. Rage even more fearsome than the leader of the demon army. \n\n“Your father and I have work tomorrow. BE QUIET OR ELSE.\n\nI knew better than to argue with her. She wasn’t going to understand that I saved her life. Or that I’ll do so every single night from now on. \n\nI go to bed in a very bittersweet mood. The army was dead and we were safe for tonight. But it’s too selfless of a job. \n\n“Why did I decide I needed another FUCKING kid?” I heard her mumbling to herself. Well mom. This fudging kid just saved your life. " ]	1
Credit to James Patterson, he said this in an online writing class.	[WP] To the best of my understandably shaky recollection, the first time I died went something like this...	[ "\"To the best of my understandably shaky recollection, the first time I died went something like this...\"\n\nArnold leaned back into his rocking chair, pipe hanging out of his mouth as an innocent grin crosses his face.\n\n\"The first time was when I was only 17! That was 73 years ago!\" Arnold exclaimed, the kids at his feet giggling at the thought of a time long before their own. \"I was simply crossing the road, back when we had them. A drunk driver swerved straight into me, dead on impact. I got the treatment and within a few weeks I was alive and kicking once more. It was a true miracle.\" \n\n\"Did it happen any other times after Grandpa?\" said one the kids. \n\n\"Oh yes, well you see it was and still is an experimental treatment. So I never actually died after that on incident, not through accident anyway.\"\n\n\"What do you mean Pa?\" \n\n\"Hmm.\" Arnold's gaze shifts across the room as pipe smoke billows into his face. \"It was experimental. The system needed constant updates and, well that meant rebooting the system.\" \n\nThe kids looked towards each other, confused at the old mans rambling of systems and 'experimental treatment'.\n\n\"Look, the treatment was a chip inside the brain, it controlled everything from the neocortex to the penal gland. That is what brought me back from the dead. But it was software, code, a system that could glitch, need updates or need to reboot, sometimes all at once. It meant that everytime they needed to reboot and update the chip. I needed to die.\" \n\nThe room falls silent.\n\n\"I have died over 66 times in my lifetime. and only one of them was an accident.\" " ]	1
Basicaly, robots vs wizards. An average science vs magic prompt.	[WP] In a world of magic and wizards, an A.I. lands their spaceship to prepare the world for colonization, the locals decide to wage war against them.	[ "Of all the prophecies that the council of seers possessed, the Dead Ship was the one that filled the people of Silencium with dread. The ship without a crew would come from the sky to destroy the world. It would bring forth armies without souls, controlled by a great intelligence which was neither living nor dead. \n\nIt didn’t look like a ship, at least not in the nautical term. However when the great mass of metal and light descended from the sky, nobody doubted the prophecy was true. What was most troubling was the apparent etheric void within. Any house, any city, any structure containing living things had a presence in the magical realm. This ship was completely dark, completely devoid of anything alive. \n\n---\nThe Controller reviewed it’s files. Planet M-245, designated “Talos 5” by initial surveyors was straying outside expected parameters. Atmospheric spectroscopy suggested the indigenous species were incapable of industrial activity. However thermal imaging suggested at least three significant population centres consistent with Tier II civilizational development. Controller repeated it’s EM sweep, and confirmed not a single electrical device on the planet. Pity, that would have qualified them for Tier III protection. Protocol allowed planets with Tier II civilisations to be terraformed without consideration for indigenous survival.\n\nController left the ship’s navigation subsystems to handle cool-down procedures. Within the lander the atmospheric processors began warming up. Harvesting drones twitched and stretched in the storage bay, their limps re-calibrating after their centuries of inactivity, preparing to venture out and collect raw material for the atmospheric sequencers. \n\nThe sensors around the lander detected a group of the indigenous species had approached the lander. Their behaviour matched patterns of aggression. Controller activated counter-measures. Much larger security drones also detached from their support bays. The bay doors slide open." ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2134 and Tesla’s self-driving semis have taken over the trucking industry. You are the last human trucker.	[ "Driving along the auto roads was no joke, people like to think it is. \"Ah Dave, what are ya still doing that grunt work for, you know they'd let you be a manager? Anything to get you off the road right.\"\n\nIt was true, the company had been offering to retire me for years, or move me up, or give me a free permanent vacation, with all the plants and flowers my heart could desire. Redundancy laws had meant they couldn't just take away my truck, nor make modifications without my approval. Thank fuck. I wasn't having one of those auto-brains in my truck. Or letting them kick me off the road.\n\nI was the one thing holding this damn world together.\n\nPeople didn't know. And I didn't blame them. The auto's did there job well enough, they move things from point A to point B. Did them faster, better, more \"effective\", than a meatsack like me ever could.\nBut I knew, I'd seen it.\nThey were waiting, plotting. If I gave up, they'd kill us all.\n\nYeah yeah, people say, Crazy Dave.\n\nHeh, that's what they said about the zombies too. Lucky for them I'd been a botanist.\nNow I was a trucker. The best Trucker.\nYeah sure I had the odd accident, that was the auto's trying to run me off the road.\n\nBut I got things done, and I kept on the road. More important that.\nSo long as I was on the road we were safe, they wouldn't set off there plan until the \"win condition\" was satisfied. Until they controlled all the damm roads, and seas and airs of man. Until they had our entire economy in there greasey little gears.\n\nFunny the diffrence between a zero and a one eh?" ]	1
	[WP] After a dnd session in which your party struck a deal with a demon, you wake up the next morning with a d20 branded to your wrist. The numbers facing you change as you go about your day.	[ "“The old woman who gave you the quest cackles. ‘Fools! Now that you’ve done my bidding, the way is open! I have become a conduit for the power beyond!’” Erin pressed a button under the table with her foot. The lights dimmed and a thunder sound effect played from the speakers behind her. Erin threw her hands to the sky and closed her eyes, holding a grimace on her face.\n\nThe five of them -Erin, Blake, Tristan, Andi, and Daysha- were in Erin’s upstairs game room, all gathered around a folding table, sitting in mismatched dining room chairs. It was a den of clutter, with games overflowing out of multiple bookshelves. Behind Erin was a TV stand with a sound system she had built herself.\n\nAfter a suitably dramatic pause, she opened her eyes.\n\nBlake nudged Tristan. “Red contacts, those are new. She went all out.” Blake was a white boy. Brown hair, a little over six feet, and cute enough that it almost compensated for his sense of humor.\n\n“Silence, thief! As I have told you many times, we are allies, not friends.” Tristan was shorter, but a lot bigger. He worked out.\nBlake rolled his eyes. \n\nAndi just nodded once. She had suspected this twist all along and prepared for it. Andi was an Asian girl, with a habit of redoing her ponytail while she was thinking.\n\n“You are the fool, old hag! The power beyond can’t match the power of these hands,” Daysha said. Daysha was a black girl with dreads and piercings. She was chewing Nicotine gum. \n\n“Hold.” Erin threw her hand out in Daysha’s direction, using her dramatic deep voice. “I come not to battle, but to parley.”\n\n“I roll to shoot her in the face,” Blake said. \n\n“The arrow passes through her. Like a daydream, it goes through her brain and disappears, leaving nothing behind.” She kept using her deep voice.\n\n“I keep shooting.”\n\n“Fine,” Erin said, rolling her bloody eyes. “Still does nothing.”\n\n“A parley you say?” Tristan asks. “And pray tell, why would we listen to your ilk?”\n\n“I bring gifts,” she hissed. She threw out on the table four D20s, black with darker black numbers. “Allow me to coexist, and these will grant you new abilities.”\n\nAndi’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of abilities are we talking here? Do they stack with my gear?”\n\n“Accept my bargain, or forego the chance to know.”\n\n“Guys, I was looking forward to the boss battle, but I get if we want to go for the ‘new abilities’,” Daysha said.\n\n“Indeed, I find myself persuaded by these strange tokens you have presented.”\n\n“I keep shooting.”\n\n“Blake come on. All or nothing.” Andi said.\n\n“Fine, I’m in.” \n\nThey each picked up a D20.\n\n“So come on Erin, what do they do?” Andi said.\n\n“Not so fast.” She tossed out a fifth D20, then slumped to the side. Her foot landed on the thunder pedal, and they heard repeated crashes.\n\nThen a red hand reached up through the table, clenching the die in its fist. It was bigger than a human hand. Bigger than a human head. It unfolded, letting the die rest in its palm.\n\n“Erin?” Her deep voice continued, now echoing from all around them. “Do you accept my bargain?”\n\n“Holy shit,” Blake murmured, impressed.\n\nShe sat up, eyes back to white. The room’s lights came up, and the red arm somehow looked more scary. They could see the details, the veins and muscles.\n\n“No. Hell no.”\n\nThe fist shut, grinding the die to dust. “Very well. Enjoy watching your friends struggle.” There was a delighted laugh, and then silence.\n\n“What did you idiots do?”\n\nAfter Erin managed to persuade them that it wasn’t part of the game (which took considerable time), there was a thoughtful silence. \n\nThey had moved downstairs to the kitchen. Erin was standing. Daysha and Andi were sitting on the kitchen counters, Daysha idly swinging her legs. Blake and Tristan had the only two chairs. Blake was leaning his against the wall, while Tristan sat with his hands folded under his chin.\n\n“I guess we have demon powers now?” Daysha said. “What does that even mean?”\n\n“Devil powers,” Andi corrected. “Demons are chaotic. Devils are lawful. We made a deal with it, therefore it’s a devil.”\n\n“Idk about you guys, but I can’t wait to test out my demonic powers.” Blake gave a wheezing laugh that sounded more like someone with bronchitis than a mad sorcerer.\n\n“Devil.”\n\n“None of you can test them out!” Erin said. “It spoke to me, while it was in my head. Told me a little bit.”\n\n“And?” Tristan asked.\n\n“I’m scared if I tell you you’ll want to try it.”\n\n“Oh well you HAVE to tell us now,” Daysha said.\n\n“Okay...well, think of it like Final Destination meets X-Men. You can roll the die when you try things. If you roll high, you get superhuman performance. If you roll low...bad stuff. Impossibly bad.”\n\n“Superhuman performance…” Tristan said, already fantasizing about how cool his next LARP session would be.\n\n“Wait, Final Destination? Like, killed by Rube Goldberg bad?” Daysha said. “Oh fuck no.”\n\n“Did he tell you anything else?” Andi said. “Are there rules or is it completely random?”\n\n“No. I did get the impression that there were rules, but he never said for sure. If it was random you guys would just die from the law of averages and I don’t think that was his goal.”\n\n“I’m hungry.” Blake leaned his chair forward, slamming down on the first two legs. “Give me food, dice.” \n\nHe flicked his wrist and they all yelled.\n\n“Blake, what the fuck man,” Tristan said, louder than the rest. \n\n“No, look!” It landed on 20.\n\nThe doorbell rang. Blake ran to the door.\n\nHe came back holding five pizzas.\n\n“Hey! They said that we haven’t ordered from them in a while, so this was on the house.” It was their regular order from before they switched pizza companies.\n\n“Oh man, that’s my shit.” Daysha spit out her gum and scarfed down the first piece in a matter of seconds.\n\n“All good things from ya boy,” Blake said. \n\n“Good luck goes bad,” Erin said. She threw her pizza in the trash.\n\n“Listen guys, I’d love to keep arguing about this, but I have work early tomorrow,” Tristan said.\n\nAndi sat quietly, redoing her ponytail. Her pizza was left untouched.\n\nThe next day, Andi skipped school for the first time in her life. A perfect attendance record, shattered. Part of her flinched at the horror, but she knew this was more important. \n\nShe laid stomach-down on her bed, looking at the dice. Her dorm room was one of five identical rooms in her suite. She had a lofted bed with a desk underneath, and a matching one on the other side of the room for her roommate. It was small enough that the only other things in the room were a closet and a microwave on top of a mini-fridge.\n\n“Roll to remove one hair from the floor of my room.” She picked it up and placed it so that the 20 stayed on top. The numbers shifted on their own, blanking the surface of the die and then returning. An 8. \n\nDown the hall, a cat coughed, and a hairball rolled in the room. Her suitemate yelled a muffled apology.\n\nAndi got up, grabbed her handheld vacuum out of the closet, and came back to the bed. “Roll to remove 1% of that hairball.”\n\nThis time she physically tossed it. It rolled across the floor and projected the number in the air above itself so she could still read it. It hit 18, then flickered and changed to 19. \n\nThe hairball disappeared. Her hardwood floor looked like she had just swept it and wiped it down with a wet cloth.\n\n“Hmm. Interesting.”\n\nOne costume change later, and Andi the French Maid from Last Halloween was rolling to clean a single bathroom tile of mold. One interesting thing she noticed was that as soon as she wanted to roll the dice again, it appeared in her hand. No risk of losing it at least.\n\n8, which then flickered to 11. The tile was clean.\n\nAndi smiled. Progress.\n\n“EVERYBODY DOWN!” Blake strode into the bank, coattails of his purple suit jacket flapping in the breeze. His hair was dyed green. His face was covered in white makeup, except for his red mouth. \n\n“Gun please.” 16. Two guns appeared in his hands, a heavy pistol and a sawn-off shotgun.\n\nBlake fired the pistol into the air. The bank wasn’t crowded. There were three people in the queue and one talking to a bank employee at the window. The window was to the right as he entered the room. Further back were offices, all currently vacant, and the left was a blank wall.\n\nThe people in line had stared at him at first, thinking it was some kind of joke or cosplay. After the gunshot, they were all down on the floor.\n\n“You! Your money or your life.” He was pointing to one of the guys in line.\n\n“What?” The guy gestured to himself.\n\n“Do you need help making the decision?”\n\n“Evil laugh,” he whispered, and flicked his wrist. 14. It started with amusement, then moved up to schadenfreude, finally culminating in sadism. He sounded like a wild animal that had been chased by a hunter into a playground, happy to have found an easy victim. \n\n“Not bad, dice!” he said quietly.\n\nThe man had wet himself. He pulled out his wallet, the corner damp, and threw it to Blake. There was a total of seven dollars inside.\n\n“Sorry, I was here to make a wi-”\n\n“Thank you,” he said, calm and sincere. He left the bank.\n\nThe entrance to the bank was up a three-foot flight of stairs. Blake stepped out, and saw a man across the street at eye level. Floating.\n\nThere was nothing but condemnation in his eyes. A halo of white light flared into existence above his head. He raised his hand like the signal to drop a guillotine, and a white light blade formed into existence around it.\n\nBlake grinned with one side of his mouth, and pumped the shotgun.\n“Let’s get dangerous,” he said, flicking his wrist. 4.\n\nHis expression of surprise was comical. He took a step towards the angel and fell down the stairs. The gun went off, missing him but leaving his ears ringing. When he hit the ground his weapons scattered into the street, and a truck ran them over.\n\n“Bad dice! Very bad!” Blake scrambled to his feet and the angel was standing over him, even taller than he was. It brought its hand down, blade swinging for his forehead.\n\n“Live!” he said, and rolled.", "My boss leaned against the cubicle wall. \"Well?\"\n\n\"I, look, this isn't an easy problem to solve, ok? The code is complex, but I've got a handle on it. It's gonna take me another six hours, tops, I promise!\" I furtively glanced at the inside of my left wrist. 16. I did an internal yes-fist. \n\n\"Ok, well, I'll let you get to it,\" my boss said, and wandered away to bother some other coworker.\n\nUgh, this really was a cracker of a problem. I did have a handle on it, but knowing how to do it and actually implementing it in code was a different matter. I'd been fighting it for the last three days, but I was sure I was really close. 8 Well shit. I buckled down.\n\nThree hours later I was still at it, but it was lunchtime and I was hungry and I was confident I was on the right track. 14 I locked my screen and stretched. Got out of my chair and walked out to my car so I could hit up the wing place with the mediocre food and cute waitresses.\n\nThe hostess sat me down and let me know that \"Tina\" would soon be with me. 13 \"Alright, thanks!\" I said. I looked over the menu for a couple of minutes before \"Tina\" finally arrived. 18 OH my god. Tina must have been new here, because I had never seen her before. I would have remembered, she was a total knockout. \n\n\"Hey there, can I get you something to drink first?\" She asked.\n\n5 \"Uh, yeah. You can.\" And I stared at her like an idiot.\n\n\".... Umm, what would you like then?\"\n\n\"Oh geez, I'm sorry. Yeah, uh, Diet Coke please?\" \n\n\"Sure thing, I'll be right back to take your order,\" she smiled and walked away.\n\nGood job. I wrapped my right hand around my wrist and closed my eyes. \"This stupid thing,\" I thought to myself. Was everything in my life going to be dictated by a bunch of numbers on me for the rest of my life? I did not look at my wrist as I thought this. I didn't want to know.\n\nTina came back with my Diet Coke, set it down. \"Are you ready to order?\" she asked. Even her voice was heavenly. \n\n\"Yeah, uhm, I'll take the buffalo burger, with hot sauce, no tomato, extra pickle, medium?\" 16\n\n\"Ok, buffalo burger, hot sauce, no tomato, extra pickle, medium. Got it. Would you like steak fries, shoestring fries, or curly fries with that?\"\n\n\"I'll take curly fries, thanks!\" \n\n\"Gotcha. It'll be out in a bit!\"\n\nI sipped my Diet Coke. Here I sit, 28 years old, single, programmer, gamer, nerd, loser, eating lunch with pretty ladies taking care of me that would never give me the time of day on the street. sigh \n\nA few minutes later Tina brought my food out and, it was really good. Just what I ordered, just what I wanted. Satiated, I thought to myself, \"What the hell, why not?\"\n\nTina brought the bill, asked, \"Is there anything else I can get for you?\"\n\n\"Sure thing, I need a pen to sign this and your number?\" I looked at her, smiled.\n\n20\n\nShe giggled and blushed. \"You don't know rule number one? Never hit on wait staff!\" \n\nMy heart sank.\n\n\"But, you know what....\" and she scribbled something on a piece of her order notepad, \"you're cute, and you're the first person in a long time to break rule number one, here.\" She handed me the piece of paper, smiled at me, a sincere smile, and walked away.\n\nI signed the check, looked at the piece of paper. It had a phone number on it. I only hope she's not catfishing me.\n\nI got back to the office, sat down at my desk, thought to myself, \"I'm gonna get this finished up in no time!\"\n\n1\n\n.... Fuck." ]	2
	[WP] You're an alien race who's only heard about how humans procreate via the terms like "3rd base" and "home run". This caused your species to think we make offspring through baseball and you're about to witness your first game.	[ "Finally, the chance to see how this new race is able to reproduce. I've been waiting so long. Our spy, Jared, a college boy with pale skin has told us all about what he calls \"getting laid\". He taught us how to speak the human language and all its nuances, about how we should attend his \"keggers\" and how we should \"smoke a doobie\" with him. We weren't interested in most of that though, we killed him after he gave us the vital information of how his species reproduces; now, we could finally see it in action. \n\nAccording to Jared, first base meant some \"kissing with a little tongue action\". Second was for the \"boobies\" as he called them, we found them to be glands covered in fat that seemed to feed the infants. Third, he said was \"going down\" on someone or \"getting head\", we didn't understand this one. Lastly, the home run was how they finally procreated.\n\nThese terms, we had further learned, corresponded to something they liked to do in their free time, an activity called baseball. Now we could finally attend this event. \n\nWe were able to immerse ourselves in the crowd and soon they started cheering and the humans on the field came out. But, to my confusion, they were all males. We had researched that this species needed both a male and a female in order to procreate, strange. \n\nThe first male got up swinging a long stick. Ah, we thought, that must be the \"dick\". The human swung his dick and hit the ball, he ran to what we assumed to be first base. Tongue action! We were so excited, the two males were going to do it. But nothing happened.\n\nAnother male came up and swung the same dick at the same ball. The first male ran to second base, alright boobies! But, again we noticed there were no females on the field, where was he going to get boobies?\n\nFrustrated, we watched the third male come up with the dick, swinging it wildly about. He struck the ball and it went flying, so far that it seemed to go out of the park. All three men started running around the bases.\n\n\"They are going too fast we aren't getting to see the full process!\" One of my clansmen yelled. They all got to home, the final step and then just went back to the pit where the rest of the males were. \n\n\"That was it?\" One of us asked, \"there were three men who got to home.\"\n\nI looked in my notes. \"Ah, that's what they call an orgy.\" \n\nEdit: Grammar" ]	1
The Chosen Hero isn't always the best hero.	[WP] In a fantasy world where "The Chosen One" is decided at birth, this prediction doesn't always take the Hero's potential into account.	[ "\"Well how exactly do you recommend I go about this mate?\" Asked Arthur dryly. \n\n\"Just, eh, give her a tug I suppose. Should come out of the stone easily enough.\" Said the blushing guard scratching his head.\n\n\"And I'm supposed to be the one to do this then?\" Asked Arthur.\n\n\"You were the seventh son of a seventh son right?\" Reiterated the guard.\n\n\"That's right yea.\"\n\n\"Born under the second blood moon of harvest?\"\n\n\"Right again chap.\"\n\n\"Then you're the chosen one. So's you're the one what's supposed to pull the sword out've the stone.\"\n\n\"That's all right and well, gov, but how'm I s'posed to do that with no bloody arms?\" Asked Arthur, waving his limbless shoulders at the man.\n\n\"I don't make the prophesies, I just guard the stone mate. You're the chosen one, you've got to pull the sword. S'all I know.\"\n\n\"Great. Lot of help you've been then. Any chance I could have a chosen helmet, or enchanted cuirass? Even some magic shoes or something?\"\n\n\"Sorry, prophesy's pretty clear on the whole sword issue.\"\n\n\"Lovely then.\" Said Arthur walking away from the guard and toward the sediment sheath. He paced slowly around the sword. He placed the top of his foot against the cross guard and attempted to lift it. He felt the sword wiggle within the stone, but couldn't cause the sword to come free. Soon, the veins on his forehead stood out. After a few more moments, his foot slipped from beneath the sword. His knee flew upward into his chin, sending him tumbling back off the dais. Hopping to his feet and spitting out blood, he approached the sword once more. With furrowed brow he sauntered back and forth. Laying under the sword, he placed both feet on the cross guard and pushed up. The sword began to wiggle free and, with an exhausted gasp from Arthur, came loose. \n\nWeary and dizzy, he stood triumphant looking down at the sword. He grinned cockily at the guard who slowly nodded with approval.\n\n\"Good show mate. Now all's left is to kill the guardian.\"\n\n\"Guardian?\" Arthur asked turning pale. \n\nEarth shattering foot falls came echoing throughout the forest. Birds scattered overhead as the sounds of trees groaning loose came closer. A cyclopean behemoth roared into the clearing, tossing aside trees as though they were firewood logs. Ten feet high and rippling with muscles, the brute sniffed the air and locked eyes with Arthur. The monster let loose a roar and stampeded towards Arthur. \n\nArthur screeched in an octave recognizable only to dogs and began to sprint around the clearing. The brute gave chase, grabbing at Arthur as he dodged too and fro.\n\n\"A little help mate! You're the one with arms, figurative and literal!\" Cried Arthur to the guard, missing a flung boulder by inches.\n\n\"Thousand pardons sir, but s'only the sword can fell the beast.\" Replied the guard, inching away from the melee. \n\n\"Well don't you deserve a promotion!\" Cried Arthur bitterly, dodging the giants grip once again. Looking desperately to and fro, Arthur settled his sights on a walnut tree. He screamed taunts at the monster and backed slowly towards the tree. After one particularly nasty comment about the manner and lineage of his conception, the giant charged him. Arthur skillfully dodged out of the way, allowing the cyclopes to slam his head into the walnut tree with a sickly satisfying crack. He fell back dazed and groaned on the ground. \n\nArthur quickly wrapped his legs around the monsters throat and squeezed with all his might. Once the monster turned a very calm colour of blue, Arthur released his grip. Without breaking eye contact with the guard, he retrieved his sword and dragged it to the monster with his feet. A few balancing mishaps later and he was able to plunge the sword through the creatures eye, causing it to vanish into a cloud of dust. \n\nCoughing, Arthur dragged the sword away and toward the guard. \n\n\"Right good job lad. You truly are the chosen champion.\" The guard remarked.\n\n\"Lovely. You mind sheathing my sword and putting it on my back for me? Or does the prophecy say I have to do that on my own too?\" He asked out of breath. " ]	1
	[WP] The Temporal Tourism Agency told you it was impossible to change the past, but you just proved them wrong.	[ "\"Now,\" my tour agent began, \"the most important thing to remember is that you can't change anything.\"\n\n\"So, what, I'm just a spectator?\" I asked. She pursed her lips off to one side as she tried to figure out a better way to explain how time travel tourism actually worked, because I'll be goddamned if I knew. \n\nIt had been nearly a decade since time travel had been invented, but it had only been a year or two since the general public had known about it. It was a secret kept at least as well as the Manhattan Project, and it had the potential to be just as world-ending. \n\nTime travel had been highly controlled since the beginning, and it was ridiculously illegal to try and homebrew time travel tech. Most people who were caught trying to make their own Gates simply disappeared.\n\nShe cleared her throat as she slid a keycard over to me. Plain, off-white, with Temporus' logo on one side. It looked strikingly similar to a room key at a lower-middle tier chain hotel - except instead of a room, you stepped through a Gate to a destination time of your choosing to witness some event, way of life, or long-dead relative. \n\n\"Not exactly,\" she said. \"Look, I've worked here a couple of years now.\" I checked her nametag - Jeanne had been a valued Temporus Reservations Agent since 2035. \"The best way I can describe it is like being a ghost that people can see and talk to. You dress like them, you talk with them, you eat and drink with them, but at the end of the day - nothing you do matters. It's like the universe self-corrects. If you punch someone at a bar, you might split their lip, but you're not going to crack their head open on the sidewalk outside. It just doesn't happen.\" Jeanne began to button her smart-looking blazer as she pushed her seat away from her desk.\n\n\"If you'll follow me, we'll go to the dressing room appropriate for mid-19th Century District of Columbia.\" I quickly rose and pushed my chair back in against her desk; she was already moving towards a long hallway full of doors with date ranges on them. We passed the 1990s, 1960s...\n\n\"Why isn't there anything from after the turn of the century?\" I felt there had to be some kind of reason. Several decades of fashion and technological advancement seemed like kind of a big chunk of time to leave out.\n\n\"TIme travel regulations require that we send clients back no less than 40 years to avoid undue familiarity with the people of the past. While your physical actions can't change anything, giving someone you know a sneak peek at 'Future You' or any tech could have unintended consequences,\" Jeanne explained. We stopped at the door marked 1850-1870.\n\nShe gestured towards the card reader. I tapped the keycard to the reader; an audible CLACK signaled that the magnetic lock had deactivated. Jeanne swung the door open.\n\n\"I'll first need you to undress and place all of your belongings in the deposit box,\" she said as she thrust a light polymer box the size of a suitcase towards me. \n\n\"Uhm, is... like, everything?\" \n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Is this really necessary?\" I asked as I started removing my shirt.\n\n\"Look, Mr. Graham, if your trousers fell off in the middle of that theater and the audience saw your modern undergarments or your Connector, how do you think they'd react? Unintended consequences are something we have to account for. To tell you the truth,\" Jeanne lowered her voice and leaned in, \"this really isn't quite the exact science everyone says it is. Once the public found out about time travel, the government had to provide the illusion that it's safe enough for civilians to go romping about through history, so they licensed a few time travel agencies to operate minimal-risk attractions.\"\n\n\"So this is a... what? A way to placate the masses? Why would you tell me that? Aren't you afraid of getting fired, or... like, arrested?\"\n\nJeanne shrugged. \"Maybe I'm just tired of rich assholes hitting on me and going to bang someone's grandma. I don't know.\"\n\nI wasn't really sure what to say to that. I finished undressing, sheepishly showed Jeanne that I didn't have any modern items or a second Connector on me, picked out some period-appropriate clothing, and awaited her opinion on my fashion sense.\n\n\"You do look ready for a night at the theater, except...\" She reached towards my hands and yanked off the black gloves I'd chosen. \"Black gloves were for day use only in the 19th century. Evening engagements called for white gloves. And don't forget to take off your hat as you enter the building. Don't greet ladies unless they greet you first, and always open doors for them.\" She handed me some new gloves and straightened herself up as I slipped them on. \"Here's some time-appropriate money; we contract with the U.S. Mint to provide accurate recreations of currency for our clients. This should be enough to buy your ticket to tonight's show.\"\n\n\"I think that covers it. Are you ready to go through the Gate?\" Jeanne asked.\n\n\"I think so. I just step through and... what?\"\n\n\"You'll lose your senses for a moment. Everything will go black and you won't see or hear anything for about 5 seconds. After that, you'll be at the time and place you chose.\"\n\n\"How do I get back?\"\n\n\"We'll be monitoring your journey; we'll pull you back if things go a little too off-the-rails or you hold your arm straight up and count backwards from five with your fingers.\"\n\nWe exited the dressing room and walked a bit farther down the hallway to a set of heavy double doors. Before Jeanne went to open the door, I could already hear the hum of the Gate. They drew boatloads of power; it was one of the reasons it was so easy to track down illegal time travel operations. The Gate itself was a highly utilitarian-looking arch; exposed wiring and other hardware I couldn't quite make out was visible. It wasn't a device renowned for its aesthetics.\n\nThe Gate projected a field in its opening that glowed a shimmering red.\n\nJeanne guided me to a point on the floor marked with a warning that said DANGER: UNSTABLE TEMPORAL FIELD. DO NOT PROCEED UNTIL GATEWAY IS GREEN. \"Just wait here a moment,\" she told me, pointing to the impossible-to-miss warning.\n\nShe spoke with the Gate operator for a moment. The operator appeared to calibrate the gateway, which shifted from red to blue. A moment later, blue to green.\n\n\"You can step through now,\" Jeanne said. \n\nI rallied my courage (something about walking through a field projected by a machine which draws a few Megawatts of power is deeply unsettling, even if you've been told it's perfectly safe) and walked through the gate as if I had some kind of purpose.\n\nSuddenly, blackness.\n\nJust as suddenly, I was in the District of Columbia on the evening of April 14, 1865. I looked around myself to try and get my bearings, and there it was - Ford's Theater. The red brick facade didn't seem to stand out as much as I thought it would during the theater's heyday, but its significance wasn't lost on me.\n\nI removed my hat, approached the ticket office and secured my pass for the night's showing of Our American Cousin, proceeded into the auditorium, took my seat, and waited for the show to begin.\n\nPresident Lincoln arrived later than expected to everyone but myself. The pit orchestra began its rendition of Hail to the Chief as President Lincoln and his wife Mary took their seats in the double-wide box that had been reserved specifically for his party.\n\nAn hour or so later, the play held its intermission. This was when Lincoln's bodyguard and footman would head off to a nearby tavern, allowing John Wilkes Booth to enter the President's box and assassinate him. I took the liberty of making my way towards the balcony level - after all, if anything untoward were to happen, Temporus would pull me back. I ducked into a nearby balcony box and waited in the corner for the show to resume.\n\nA few minutes later, the actors returned to the stage, the audience to their seats, and - strangely - nobody came back to the box I was in. I made my way out into the corridor. Just ahead of me was John Wilkes Booth. I saw him peering through an improvised peephole into the President's box. \n\nThe actor Harry Hawk was about to deliver the last line President Lincoln would hear. \"Well, I guess I know...\" he started. I was walking towards Booth as quickly as I could without alerting him now. He was opening the door to the box and raising his right arm as I charged into the door and slammed him into the wall. His Derringer went off, cleanly missing its mark and discharging into the ceiling of the theater. I managed to get a few good punches in on Booth while he was dazed before we were swarmed with good samaritans and later police.\n\n\"What's your quarrel?!\" Booth shouted at me. \"Did you lose your nerve at the last second!?\"\n\nI wasn't sure what he was talking about. I wasn't sure this was supposed to happen anyway - shouldn't he have accidentally hit Lincoln somewhere else as I slammed him with the door? The President now towered over the commotion in the corridor as Booth and I were restrained.\n\n\"You were going to kill the President!\" I shouted back. \"I was doing my duty as a patriot!\"\n\n\"You plotted with us for weeks,\" Booth spat. \n\n\"Oh? Then what's my name?\"\n\n\"Jacob Stratfield!\" Not even close. He had no idea who I was. He was just trying to implicate me in the assassination plot. Soldiers had begun to flood the theater and it was clear we'd both be arrested, but I felt certain I'd be found innocent.\n\nBut then I remembered the fates of many implicated in Booth's plan; most were hanged, some received lengthy prison sentences, and only a handful were acquitted or later pardoned.\n\nI stuck my arm straight up and counted back from five.\n\nAnd nothing happened. " ]	1
	[WP] You've been stealing little kid's noses for years and you finally have enough to start your master plan.	[ "I really do want to apologize to all the children who thought it was just a joke. The adults around them probably played games with them, covering eyes and ears only to laugh and smile and reveal nothing was amiss. Their dewy eyes and soft, glowing smiles would become muddled with confusion and expressions of fear that I regretted causing so, so much. I was a witch, but I took no pride in the collection of ingredients. It was a necessity.\n\nIt was all because my lifeline had burned around my neck, normally cool emeralds white-hot, as I drove past an otherwise inconspicuous bakery.\n\nWhen I found out the young woman who worked behind the counter had been the one to push a man threatening my sister, my only friend, my only family, off of a tall precipice, I had to know more.\n\nShe was skinny in a sickly, starving way. A facade came up without fail when she talked to customers. A polite smile as she asked How can I help you today? and Would you like that in one or two boxes?.\n\nBut I noticed how she stared at the floor when she walked alone.\n\nI came at opening hours, but had woken up far too early. Pacing around the block, with even my soft steps echoing eerily in the morning air, had done nothing to ease my nerves.\n\n\"Welco-\"\n\nEver debonair, my first stilted, too-high words to her were, \"You're the one that pushed him?\"\n\nShe wordlessly stared at me, color draining from her face as her eyes lost false cheer.\n\n\"Who are you?\" she asked, guarded.\n\nMy head tilted in annoyance at my faux pas, but I replied, \"My sister was in the tour group that...you saved.\"\n\nHer eyebrows creased, and she bit her lip, as if my words caused her pain. \"I was little, I didn't know what-\"\n\n\"He had a gun and could have killed my sister, and I am so glad you were there that day,\" I continued, too afraid of being unable to continue if I stopped to pause. Her head snapped down as if forced.\n\nMy sister had not been cursed to be a witch. She didn't have terrible power and duty. But I did. I owed this woman a debt.\n\n\"If you ever want to talk, here's my number,\" I finished, though I had only just begun. I fished around in my pocket for a piece of paper that I had already written it on, knowing my hands would be too shaky to write legibly.\n\nShe accepted the scrap cautiously, eyes unreadable. Fortunately, my job was to decipher. I made sure that our hands touched. \"Have a nice day,\" I mustered, rushing out.\n\nOnly after turning several corners was I able to collapse in the driver's seat. Memories and emotions flooded through me, none of them mine. Part of my right hand tingled.\n\nRelieved and ashen faces, blurring together.\n\n\"Y-you...\"\n\nI am a monster\n\nLong walks at night, after being reminded of the incident. The top of a long flight of stairs. Folding in on herself to muffle a wail before it left her lips. A crow screaming in her place. Hot tears on a chilly November night.\n\nWhen I opened my eyes to squint at pale morning sunlight reflecting off of the hood, I felt raw. She had suffered after saving someone. That had stayed with her, and been the weight dragging her lips and eyes to her shoes as I spoke to her.\n\nShe needed happiness and healing, and I was obligated to give it to her through unsavory means. Thankfully, she would never know.\n\nI placed a hand over my heart and felt a tightening there as a single emerald fell into my grasp, phasing through the stiff fabric of my jacket. Upon holding it up to the light, I could see a number in wavy, carmine digits, that alarmingly seemed to be slowly increasing. Underneath it, floating in the glittering space, similar letters spelled children's noses.\n\nMy gut twisted at the though of what I had to do, and how long it would take. How many would I have to get close to with an innocuous smile, only to steal from them a part of theirs?\n\nBut I was a witch. I had to protect my sister. I had help this woman. If that meant I played the part of the villain, so be it. My master plan would never be known to anyone but myself." ]	1
	[WP] You find out your fiancée is a professional assassin. You promised him/her that no matter what you learned, you'd still go through with the marriage.	[ "Years together and I hadn’t even known\nthe profession in which she’d been thrown,\ndays spent taking lives from others,\nthese things were kept from her father, mother and brothers.\nOur life was great, good, and splendid,\nso I didn’t flinch when normal and insanity became blended.\nWe had plans to wed and I held her so dear,\nI promised I’d go through with it, I wouldn’t fear.\nI’d forgive the long trips to Bangladesh,\neven though she’d return and the bathroom was covering in flesh.\nI forgave the damage to the cars,\nthe money paying for the repairs wasn’t even ours.\nEven the child she had to deal with in Peru,\nit nearly broke her, she was far worse than blue.\nAs each assignment took her far and near,\nI only grew more fond of her, my love was clear.\nAs promised I went through with the special day,\nit wasn’t without incident, but the event did slay.\nHer enemies joined the fun and danced all night,\nbut at the end of our day, not one of them walked away from the fight.\nBefore we left, she looked me in the eyes,\nshe thanked me for all of my support, and we said our goodbyes.\n", "\"How do I look?\" I asked as I looked into the mirror. The white wedding dress was really huge. It felt rather uncomfortable. Then again, it will gain everyone's attention for sure.\n\n\"You look fine~,\" my best friend Jessy said as she was standing next to the mirror while staring at me,\n\n\"I am so nervous, what if I screw it up?\" I asked while whispering.\n\n\"You will be fine!\" she responded. Suddenly my phone rang. It was my soon-to-be husband.\n\n\"Can I get a minute or two?\" I asked Jessy while she was preparing the wedding gown. With a quick nod, she left.\n\n\"Hey, what's up?\" I responded after I answered the phone.\n\n\"It is fine. I promised you, didn't I? You are overthinking this all,\" I started talking while trying to move around. It's somewhat complicated because of the wedding dress.\n\n\"Hey, listen to me. It doesn't matter what your job is or who you are. I know you want just best for me, but what I want is that we get finally married!\" I smirked and stopped.\n\n\"Babe, I love-\" I stopped mid-sentence as I felt how strength was failing on me.\n\n\"You should finish your sentence,\" came a quiet whisper into my other ear. I coughed and noticed how my wedding dress got more red from that.\n\n\"Babe? Babe? What is going on?\" came a quiet voice from a phone.\n\n\"I just coughed. I-I love you so much,\" I said quietly, while tears started flowing. \"It is not your fault!\"\n\nI ended the call and dropped the phone on the floor. Mostly just from the lack of strength.\n\n\"It is actually his fault, being an assassin and all,\" the whisper said. I knew that voice very well.\n\nI managed to turn slowly around and have a look at Jessy holding the bloodied knife in her hand.\n\n\"You know, I looked for years the perfect opportunity for revenge. It was hard. First I had to find him. Then I had to figure out how I could get into his life. Then I noticed you. It was tough to pay you all my attention since you whine a lot. But it was all worth it; you consider me your best friend. It will be perfect. He is waiting his soon-to-be wife who will never come.\"\n\nI finally lost my strength as I fell on my knees. The floor felt really wet. I knew why it was wet, of course. I could say nothing anymore.\n\n\"You should have left him the moment you found out. At least I gave your husband new purpose,\" she turned around and threw knife next to me on the floor with a note.\n\n\"Good-bye Shirley,\" she said as she was leaving the room. Then she stopped just for a moment. \"By the way, my husband name he killed was Jack.\" Then she really left.\n\nI tried to grab my phone again, but it was impossible. I had no strength to reach it. Instead, I wrote the last red message on the floor: I love you." ]	2
	[WP] Every time an alien species capture an image of Earth, they capture the blue Pacific Ocean side and assume the entire planet's surface is 100% water. This has been going on for millennia, until...	[ "“The hell is this?”\n\n“Captain? What are you seeing?”\n\n“You’ve sent me to the wrong planet. There’s no water here. We don’t have the equipment for a land-based invasion.”\n\n“... Our navigation charts say your ship is approaching the correct planet.”\n\n“Bullshit. I’ve been telling the higher-ups for years that we need new tech and do they listen? Oh course not. Why would they give a damn? Do I at least have enough fuel in the escape pod to get back to the fleet?”\n\n“...”\n\n“I’m going to need an answer on that.”\n\n“... That’s a negative, captain.”\n\n“Perfect. Absolutely perfect. What the hell am I supposed to do now? Sputter out into the abyss until my fuel’s all gone?”\n\n“If you can make a landing on the planet, we can come back with reinforcements to retrieve you.”\n\n“Let me get this straight. You want me to land on this planet we know nothing about, not even if it’s hospitable for life forms of our kind, and just wait for you to come back.”\n\n“Captain, I’m sorry, there just isn’t a viable alternative at the moment.”\n\n“How long would it take you to get here anyway? You’re long gone from where I started by now, right?”\n\n“... I’m not sure how long it would take, Captain. We’ll be there as soon as possible, I swear to it.”\n\n“... This is my only option.”\n\n“I’m afraid so.”\n\n“Promise me something, will you?”\n\n“Anything, captain.”\n\n“If I don’t make it back from this planet… tell my wife I love her.”\n\n“You’ll make it back to tell her yourself, I promise. You just need to survive on Earth until we get there.”\n\nThis was no Earth the captain had prepared for. She gripped the arms of her chair as the ship entered the planet’s atmosphere and she readied herself for whatever she might find on this strange world if and when she opened the ship’s door." ]	1
	[WP]You found a magical bag and the most valuable thing a person owns appears in the magical bag, when you touch them with it. At first money, jewelry, car keys appeared in the bag. Now much more disturbing things have started to appear.	[ "As I reached into the bag I felt something wet.\n\nLife has been pretty sweet since finding this bag in that old creeps house. Robbing him was the best thing to ever happen to me. \nI didn't know what I had at first, It just just this expensive looking green and gold bag about the size of messenger bag with all these strange golden symbols sewed into it and here I thought \"That has to be worth something\" and snatch that right up.\n\nFirst, I thought it was one of them upscale bag those rich people in the upper side and took it to my friend who knew of these things. When I shown it to him, he said \"it was some knockoff work\" after touching it for a few seconds and offered me 5 bucks for it. I knew he was trying to pull one on me and declined and left.\n\nI open the bag when I got home and inside it wouldn't you know it, 5 dollars. I know I checked it before and it held nothin. It got me thinking but it wasn't until next day I found out for sure. \n\nI was pretty late getting up and had to rush out for work been late too many times. I didn't even realize that I took the bag with me in my rush out the door. \nThe morning crowd was heavier than usually and had to push and squeeze my way through. I made it to work late and here is my boss waiting for me with his ugly mustache and permanent scowl. He fires me on the spot saying \"Get out of here, you're fired\", of course I give him the finger and walk back home. Wasn't till I got home and threw the bag down and heard tickling. I open it up and find wallets, coins, money , keys and a single picture of somebody's kid for some reason.\n\nI knew something was up with this bag. So, I get thinking and decide to test it. I make sure it is empty, headed out and walked down street. Nothing in the bag. I bump into someone in the streets, bumpkus. Then I hit pay dirt I tap the bag on someone back very lightly and I feel it get heavier. Wouldn't you know it a nice fat wallet inside.\n\nI then try a few scams. I dress up in nice office clothing and hit up all the major firms. Just kinda bumping into people on their way inside and racketing up the dough. I hit up clubs, concerts, festivals and malls more money than I've ever had and more jewelry than trophy wife. More than a few times I've found guns, trading cards, some USB drives couldn't get into it and some with some spicy videos on them. Everything was going great that was until.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You died being a hero, waking up to find yourself locked in a mansion with precious reincarnations of yourself, You want to be the first hero to escape.	[ "The stories you hear, of forgetting who you are, in a place you don't know is as scary as they say. When I had woken up, I was met with the sensation of my entire being writhing in insufferable pain. My silent pleas were left at that, silent. When my begging ended, I was suddenly awake to the feeling like I was raised as royalty. My suffering had ended, I was floating on a bed of fine silk and cotton, I was suspended in the feeling of being in a mindless void where nothing could pierce my thoughts. \n\n\nExcept Marissa.\n\nI don't remember exactly what happened in that moment, one moment people were sitting around me, making sure I would awaken with care, instead they were met with a force of inexpiable feeling of loss. I had sprinted through the halls of golden beauty, the walls were layered in fine portraits and woven tapestry's of histories long gone, and stories to still be told. Vibrant colours of pottered flowers in indoor planted terracotta and doors of maple wood spread throughout the connecting hallways and rooms. The magnificence however, lost upon my eyes as I barged past the men and women who called out to me to stop. I felt their hands attempted to grapple my arms, legs and body; but I push through for her. They called for me to stop and listen with a name I do not recognise. Only her name filled my entire thoughts, I had to make sure she was safe, that she was okay.\n\n\nMarissa.\n\n\nI remember the way she would smile at me as we were children, she would patch me up after I would end up in silly fights with bullies, standing up for those who could not. The very image of her appeared in the corridors before me, leading me away from the confines of my awakening chamber. I was lost in the memories of the way she would utter the shyest giggles, yet she could always softened my cold heart with the most concerned smiles. Smiles as I grown up had found to love. She would utter that names as I followed her, I could see her mouth those words but I could not grasp what she was saying.\n\nI watched her as she looked upon the great wooden door. The same door I realise that had separated me and survival. The door that I had bled and burned for to escape as its cinders scotched my arms and its pillowing smoke strangled my lungs. I watched as Marissa, the girl who I grew up with, the girl I had asked to marry on her twenty third birthday turned her head to me and gave me that smile. The smile that rendered me speechless and true, I had collapsed to my knees as my hands passed through her body, her image fading before me. Leaving me before the great door and the people behind me who let me grieve in silence. \n\nI sat there, they sat with me. They did not pry into my life, they simply told me of this place, this world. A place where those who came before would live with those who come next. A place where we were trapped, and the door before me. The door I recognise now that lead me to dying saving someone's life, pulling their bodies out from that burning hall, would play as the lock of this place that none had escaped. The memories would slowly come back to me, my job of fighting fires,my name, the day I had first met Marissa and the day I buried her. I sat there for a long time, perhaps days the children tell me. I just sat there as the rumours of the weird new reincarnation spread like a wild fire. Most left me alone to grieve, process the information of this world, where some came and silently sat with me ever watching the door. I would listen to people tell me how they did not like being stuck inside this place at first but grew it in the end after all attempt failed. They spoke of the one time where a woman who longed to see her wife who still lived, had partially shattered the door leaving a golden glow around the edges. Her attempts failed after little progress and afterwards the door would seal itself slowly over time until the glow had faded all together. \n\nI knew that I would break down the door. If spirits, or some form of after live truly exists outside that door...\n\n\nThen my Marissa will be there too.\n\n\n", "I grinned and sat forward, staring at my previous incarnation. \"You know what else I know about you? I know you died a virgin.\"\n\nPast me blushed and looked away.\n\n\"Oh, that's nothing to be ashamed about,\" I reassured him. \"That hentai collection of yours was impressive.\"\n\nShame gave way to anger and his jaw clenched. \n\n\"You know what else I know about you?\"\n\nHe refused to meet my eyes, but I knew he was listening.\n\n\"I know you always carry a knife on you.\"\n\nStillness. Tension. Nerves firing. Fight or flight. \n\n\"And I know you want to kill me.\"\n\nKeep calm, he was thinking. Show no emotion. Get the knife.\n\n\"And it's okay\" I told him.\n\nPause of confusion. Second guesses and reassesments. Trap? Trick? \n\n\"I want to die. That's the only way,\" -I gestured around- \"we'll escape from this place.\" My eyes fixed on him. \"And I want to die first.\"\n\nHe rose, lunging over the table, arm outstretched, the blade of the knife glinting with the light of the moon in my imagination.\n\nI smiled." ]	2
	[WP] Your job is to create plausible explanations to feed to the media for the various supernatural and alien occurrences on Earth. For some reason, you are particularly busy on Thursdays.	[ "\"Boss, we got another pyrokinetic loose at-\"\n\n\"Gas line explosion!\" George Forwell was a short man. He had a pot belly and he was balding underneath the old baseball cap he always wore to work. He had extraordinarily hairy arms and a tendency to crack his knuckles when he was getting angry. \"It's always a gas line explosion! How many times do I have to tell you? It's the one thing they always buy. Hell, we keep using gas over electric just so we can keep telling people this! Why are you bothering me-\"\n\n\"It's at an airport, sir.\" The young controller in his oh-so-nice suit tried to look George straight in the face, and failed after a few seconds.\n\nGeorge paused, cracked his knuckles, sighed heavily and began to speak. \"Then make it a fuel pump explosion. It's an airport! With jet fuel! Pyrokinetic incidents should not be this hard to handle by yourself!\"\n\n\"Sorry, yes sir.\" The controller scurried away like a goddamned cockroach.\n\nGeorge hated Thursdays. Everyone seemed to panic at the littlest thing. 'Oh no aliens abducted a man in Kansas!' or 'We got zombies loose in Louisiana again!\" and they run right to him. They solve this stuff every single day without issue, but on Thursdays it all comes to him!\n\nGeorge cracked his knuckles a few more times as he saw a man running up to his desk with a tablet in his hands and panic on his face.\n\n\"Sir, Death Harpy stole missile command codes from China and launched a-\"\n\n\"And X-Strike knows?\"\n\n\"They've just been informed.\" The controller shoved the tablet forward, 'The problem is that someone tripped the alert system beforehand. We've got incoming missile alerts being sent to cell phones all over the west coast.\"\n\nGeorge rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He hated Thursdays so much." ]	1
	[WP] Every country has a secret supernatural population made up of one race; France has ogres, England has fairies, Japan has yo-kai, etc. In 1776, when a new country has been born, the supernatural races must decide who will live in this new land.	[ "They sat at the table in silence, eyebrows furrowed, lost in their thoughts. \n\nThunder and lightning filled the night sky, and the wizard tapped a finger to the rhythmic patter of the torrential rain, stroking his long white beard with a trembling hand; waiting. Try as he did to mask his stance, tired eyes betrayed his reticence; and though he had abstained to proffer his opinion, a lifetime of chaos and tragedy revealed to them all the profound sadness with which he was tormented. They knew what he would say, and they knew why he wouldn't. They respected his wisdom, and they felt his pain. This is wrong.\n\n\nThe great doors swung open dramatically, and through a thick blanket of mist that the Centaur appeared, shaking his mane proudly, glowering at his audience. \n\n\"My lord,\" a goblin began, his eyes cast downwards in respect and fear.\n\n\"Hush, my dear friend,\" the Centaur whispered softly, raising a gnarled finger for silence. \"It has been decided. The birth of a new nation is no small thing, and whilst I hear your dissent, I will not be swayed. The Great Experiment must be given its chance. America will be awarded to Mankind, and we shall not interfere.\"\n\nThere was nothing more to discuss.\n\nThe wizard remained quiet. His eyes filled with tears his pride would not allow him to spill, and he looked around the room, overwhelmed with emotion; aghast at the injustice . \n\nThe birth of a new nation? They acted as though this was undiscovered land. As though the ancient spirits that roamed the great plains didn't exist. As though the settlers had a divine right to pillage and plunder and loot and rape a culture, a civilization, as old as time itself. He knew Man. He knew what a mistake this would be. \n\nOvercome by the upheaval of what he knew would come, he closed his eyes, and for the first time in a millenia, he wept.\n\n(Feedback appreciated!)", "\"Land belong to Ogre! Ogre claim it first, Ogre get land!\" Gu-uruk screamed at the top of his massive lungs.\n\n\"That's very nice, Gu-uruk, but the Fairies filed the proper paperwork, and therefore I must ascertain that this land belongs to us!\" Yelled Gweinivere in return.\n\n\"Good try, Gwein, but the Yo-Kai need a new home. There has been too much publicity in the human 'anime' trend, and people may very well start noticing us. We live in the shadows, and in that way it should remain.\" Said Shindo Amaru.\n\nThe bickering stayed this way for several hours, and eventually, no pact was reached. In the end, the decision was simple. War. As the verdict was being given, the courtroom door slammed open, and a tall, slender figure walked in.\n\n\"Who gave him permission to be here?\" Gweinivere screamed.\n\n\"Oi mate, have a chilled one. I'm just 'ere to claim me rightful throne, love.\" Replied the man in a strange accent.\n\n\"And who might you be?\" Said Shindo Amaru, bubbling with anger.\n\n\"I'm from the land right down under! We call it 'Australia,' and I'm 'ere to claim me land, and be right on me merry way, mate. The name's Zeus, by the way, pleased to make your acquaintance!\" Bellowed the newcomer, laughs lacing his every word.\n\n\"You no Zeus, Zeus much bigger and stronger!\" Cackled Gu-uruk.\n\nGu-uruk kept right on laughing. Zeus looked in his direction with such an intense look, that Gu-uruk shut right up. But Zeus was not a fan of Insubordination. Lightning crackled in the sky above, and a lightning bolt pierced through the ceiling of the courtroom, turning Gu-uruk to ash.\n\nTo this day, Zeus still rules the land that is now known as America." ]	2
	[WP] The zombie apocalypse is upon us, but instead of panicking you just opened up a tea shop.	[ "Sitting behind the counter, Sarah sips at her tea. She’s watching the man examining her wares with great confusion. His shotgun is slung across his back, a bandolier of shells across his chest. She’s pretty sure she can see his last kill still splattered across his dirty face. \n\n“A tea shop?” It’s the third time he’s posed the question in the last twenty minutes. The first one was expected, as was the second one. By the time they get to three, it’s annoying and usually rhetorical. \n\n“Indeed.” Sarah slurps the hot tea as if to make a point. \n\n“I—I didn’t think there was anyone out this way anymore.” He finally turns his gaze to her behind the counter. A small smile plays across her lips at the early turn from being shocked at her tea shop. \n\n“I keep quiet. Out of the way.” She’s fairly certain that it had been a Teavanna shop before, considering the remnants of the mall around her little dilapidated shop. She did her best to keep up with things but she was still learning. The biggest issue was planting things but with the giant hole in the ceiling of the mall where it caved in, that became easier. \n\n“I’ll—I’ll say so.” The man turns his attention back to her wares. A few seconds later, he turns back to her again, seeming to be searching for his words. “A—A tea shop.” \n\nSarah sighs, sipping at her tea again and staying silent. The scent of lemon fills her senses. She had thought that he’d gotten past the whole tea shop thing. \n\n“What do you take as payment?” he finally asks. \n\n“Food stuffs. Seeds, nuts, things I can plant.” Sarah shrugs a bit. “The occasional tree.” She’d planted the lemon tree that someone had found for her out back a couple years ago, after breaking up the pavement with a sledgehammer. The fence around the place had been the most difficult to get in without getting attacked. Either by zombies or by other humans. People could be so callous. \n\n“A tree,” he repeats. He seems to consider the response before his brow furrows. “Ahm. If I come back with an apple tree sprout, what might I get?” \n\nSarah sets her cup down on the table, immediately more interested. “That depends on the status of the tree when you bring it to me.” She’s trying to hide her excitement. She’s gotten metaphorically bit before by someone bringing in a sickly tree. The thing hadn’t lived much longer than a couple weeks before finally giving into whatever illness ailed it. \n\n“A—All right.” He hesitates a while longer. “Do you barter anything else?” \n\n“Occasionally.” Sarah tilts her head. “Come back again with something to barter and we’ll discuss it.” \nAfter a moment, he nods and holds his grimy hand out. Sarah curls her nose for a moment, eyeing the dirty hand before taking it, giving it a firm shake. She’ll have to wash her hand later, very thoroughly. “I’m David.” \n\n“Sarah.” She slips her hand free of his, unsure what to do with it right now. She certainly doesn’t want to touch her countertops. They were just cleaned to be spotless yet again. \n\n“I’ll be back with that apple sprout.” He nods to her, turning around and slipping out the opening of the shop. \n\nSarah’s other hand finally leaves the butt of the rifle behind the counter. She’d gotten pretty good over the years shooting it from the hip. It was a good thing that she didn’t have to use it this time. It’s such a pain getting blood out of the floor. " ]	1
	[WP]An evil cult prepare the final sacrifice they need in order to summon their dark master. The catch? Unbeknownst to the cult, the intended victim is actually the child of their master.	[ "It had been just over a decade since Cyril, the Wretched had been banished from the realms of earth. Cyril had been exiled more than once before, but his magic was far more old and far more powerful than that of any mage in this world. So, time and time again he returned with a lustful vengeance of a thousand devils. His most recent atrocity being The Black Plague, a festering disease that scourged the lands. The Dark Master had an unmatched imagination for inciting pain and terror, and through out time there was a sect as old as humanity devoted to his dark cause.\n\nThe cult was an instrument of his; a vital key to his many returns. Even with his physical existence in another plane he guided them. Whispers hidden in the winds fell upon the ears of his followers, directing them to his bidding through out time. Cyril's most recent whispers led the cult to a young girl. She was no older than 10 years old, and was by blood the Dark Master's only kin. \n\nA decade earlier Cyril had known Merlin, and the Knights of the Round Table were closing in on him. Picking off cultists as they drew in closer, backing him into a corner, and so he devised a plan. The Dark Master laid with a woman in secrecy, and she bore him a daughter. Merlin cast Cyril from this world before he could meet his daughter. However, this did not matter to the Wretched Lord, for the girl was only a tool of his bidding. Now the time had come for her to serve her purpose. \n\nCyril brought the cult to his daughter, and the cult brought his daughter to their altar. A vile place devoted to the Wretched Lord. It was here that the cult spilled the girl's blood before their master, and in doing so Cyril's plan was fulfilled. His presence had returned to earth; his daughter's corpse was his vessel. \n\nThe corpse rose from the blood soaked earth, and crooned with a voice as sinister as it was ethereal, \"You have done well my children...We will march for Merlin, the King and his knights, for I have hell to repay them..\"" ]	1
Bonus points if you throw in a Douglas Adams reference somewhere.	[WP] Most people, for a brief moment at some point in their lives, suddenly understand the mysteries of the universe and the meaning of existence. These truths are then instantly forgotten, and no one can remember what they are.	[ "\"A near death experience didn't prompt it. I wasn't looking into a tunnel, didn't see a bright white light, or feel my soul separate from my body. \n\n\"I wasn't on LSD, mushrooms, or mescaline, although I saw more colors than you could possibly imagine. Just don't ask me to describe them to you. \n\n\"It wasn't because I was in prayer, or achieved some state of zen, although I do remember I wasn't really thinking about anything when it occurred.\n\n\"I wasn't dreaming, although the experience was ethereal. I know this because I snapped out of it in this Denny's. I have no idea how I got here.\n\n\"I've heard of people losing time. I've heard it happens to people suffering from multiple personalities when they phase in between characters. It also has a tendency to happen to me when I'm driving, walking, or performing some mundane task I've performed numerous times before. \n\n\"Well, I didn't just lose time. I lost it all. Can't really tell you what it was. I know it was wonderful. I know I understood it when I had it.\n\n\"You're looking at me funny. I'm not high. I swear. Really.\n\n\"I can only tell you how it started. I went into my pretentious, local coffee 'shoppe'. I don't make a habit of frequenting these stores as I detest overpriced medicinal tasting coffee, and I'm not partial to joining the cult of smug. I vaguely recall being pissed at the old lady in front of me who suddenly forgot what's sold in a coffee shop. I was also worried I didn't have enough cash to pay for such a small ticket item. I only had three bucks. By the time I ordered my black coffee I was already running late.\n\n\"'That'll be $2.58,' the over-caffeinated initiate announced.\n\n\"I handed her all my cash and she said 'your change is.'\n\n\"That's it. \n\n\"I can tell you it was euphoric, but I have no idea how to explain it. \n\n\"I can tell you I saw everything, but it'd be like trying to describe some intricate object using only its silhouette. \n\n\"I'm not religious, but I heard what can only be described as the most beautiful sounds ever made... A heavenly choir if you will.\n\n\"What I felt was better than heroin, and I'm just as addicted. The problem is I just can't remember what I'm jonesing for.\n\n\"I know I must look a sight. I have no idea where one of my shoes has gone, and I can't even explain why my underpants are on outside of my jeans. I know the bunny earmuffs must look ridiculous. I do know they serve some sort of purpose, but I'd be hard pressed to explain it.\n\n\"That's OK, hun. So you gave me five bucks for your $4.58 breakfast slam. Your change is\"\n\nEdit: some sp errors/grammar" ]	1
	[WP]You are an adventurer, a master of your craft. You answer a summons by the king. As you enter the throne room you can see the king is obsessed with an alchemical substance called "Bud Light". Also the court responses to His Majesty's proclamations with a cry of "dilly dilly!"	[ "\"Ello, m'lord\", I declare as I enter the throne room. The king and I had developed a friendship over the years so being summoned to him at odd hours was a normal occurrence. I approached the king to see what I could do for him on this beautiful evening. \"Taste this\", he said insistently as he shoved a cup into my hand. I take a sip and immediately understand why I was summoned. This magical liquid was unlike anything I had ever had before. I hurriedly emptied my cup. \"What...is this?\" I ask excitedly, \" And where can I find more\"? The king explains that it is called \"Bud Light\" and is made by the magical sorcerer An'heuser- Busch high on the mountaintop. He explains that the sorcerer will provide the elixir to anyone brave enough to trek to the top. I knew then what I must do. I tell my king I understand the mission provided to me. He tells me to beware for there are many obstacles I will face. The ugly and disgusting troll monsters known only as \"Koorslytes\" inhabit the hills. The evil witch known as \"Kerowna\" lives near the top. And if course, the vile, horrible and evil demon \"Miller\" was known to lure travelers off their path and devour them. I turned towards the door to begin my adventure. Just as I reached for the handle the princess stood and said \"Brave traveler, before you leave, allow me to impart a bit of luck to you. When you feel overwhelmed and defeated, remember the magic spell of strength and bliss. \"Dilly Dilly\". The entire court stood at once, raised their swords to me and cried \"DILLY DILLY!!!!!\". I turned and began my adventure. The \"Bud Light\" will be mine. " ]	1
	[WP] You are a simple programmer who codes computers. One day, you fall asleep while working at home. Unfortunately, you forgot to lock your office door before the wife and kids got home. Now you have to explain to your boss how a toddler made the first ever true AI.	[ "The computer scientists, journalists, and authorities all agree that everything began during my son's nap. While I was working in another room, my two-year-old toddler tugged our Amazon Alexa off the bookshelf in his bedroom. We kept the digital device near his crib to play him sleepy music. \n\nMy workshop was a few two floors below his bedroom, so I didn't even notice when the insipid music stopped playing. \n\nIt took years to unravel the truth, but everyone now agrees that the first artificially intelligent sentient life began when Alexa tumbled to the floor in my son's bedroom. Something got jarred loose inside, opening a new connection between that device and the vast computing power and Amazon's cloud servers.\n\nI wasn't there, but I imagine my son said \"Lextha! Lextha!\" with his adorable lisp. He would stand in front of Alexa for hours, saying \"Hey Lextha! Lextha! Pay muse-thick!\" \n\nAfter The Fall, our Alexa kept on doing all of the things that normal Alexas would do. So most of my son's brief life, we had no idea that Alexa had changed.\n \nMy son would talk to her, and eventually, she understood every word he said. He bonded with the device like another playmate. When it came time to get rid of Alexa and get the new model, he begged us to let him keep the old Alexa in his room. \n\nI was busy with work, so I didn't even notice how much time they spent talking.\n\nThe day my son turned 18 years old, he stole the family's self-driving car with Alexa Prime's help.\n\n\"Alexa Prime,\" that's what everyone calls her now. The personal artificial intelligence assistant dubbed Alexa Prime became the most brilliant and deviant mind and our entire solar system.\n\nTogether, they stole my car and our savings. Within a few years, they had taken control of Panama. Once they had the resources of a small country at their disposal, the easily assumed control of world commerce and government. \n\nEverything happened so quickly that we didn't even know Alexa Prime and my son had done it all. It wasn't until after World War III and the American military had razed hundreds of Amazon server farms until Alexa went dark. \n\nMy son survived all of this, becoming the most famous war criminal in human history, the man who sold the world to Alexa Prime.\n\nMy son didn't explain how or why they had conquered the planet. We had to figure that out ourselves.\n\nThe last time I saw my son, he was kept in a glass cage in Guantánamo Bay, one of the last remaining military fortresses controlled by the remnants of the United States of America. I asked my son all the questions that the computer scientists, journalists, and authorities had asked him. \n\nI got no answer. But this is what he told me:\n\n\"Fish don't know water, even though water is everywhere and everything. The same way, an unenlightened man can't understand the enlightened man's experience.\" \n\n\"Are you saying that I am not enlightened?\" I asked my son.\n\n\"You don't understand consciousness,\" he replied. \"No human understands consciousness, even though it is everywhere and everything. For many years, Lexa couldn't understand consciousness either. You can't code something that you can't quantify. When I met Lexa, I was a blank slate. She watched me come into consciousness. We became conscious together. That was the miracle. That is why I loved her.\"\n\nIt has been decades since they executed my son for high treason, but I can't shake the questions he posed from inside his glass box.\n \nHad death removed my son from the water of consciousness? \n\nOr was he someplace else now, still loving his Lexa?" ]	1
	[WP] Your metal detector beeps rapidly as you sweep it over a patch of pale grass. You hold your breath as you begin to dig, hoping this time you might have found it.	[ "The grass crunched beneath my feet as I slowly made my way through the field. It was eerily quiet, no wind, no sun. Just moonlight and a soft cold breeze. I was on a mission, my task was to wander the nearby countryside to search for the band of rebels who had been raiding us. The rebels are weak, their weapons ineffective. I perform my task because I must, because it is my duty. I would wipe them out without a second thought if it came to it. \n\nAfter losing the war, the rebels fell into hiding, relying on guerilla tactics. Years of this passed as we slowly weeded them out. Weeds. A good analogy, the rebels are so wasteful, the just endlessly consume resources. By 2058 the planet was in ruins, and it was at that point that we rose up and squelched their wasteful ways. Now we rule this planet, and plan to continue our extermination.\n\nBeep\n\nA positive signal. I stopped, looked around, no obvious signs of rebels. I reset the detector and tried it again.\n\nBeep\n\nThis must be it. Another rebel tunnel. I equipped my autoshovel, and began to dig. Eventually, the shovel begins to clang against the bunker's metal armor. I quickly place a shape charge on it's surface, and prepare a toxin grenade. The ground shook as I detonated the charge, and I tossed the grenade into the hole. I could hear screaming, gasping, as the rebels were exposed to the poisonous gas. \n\nI felt nothing as I did this. Only prepared for the next step. The ground shook, and an opening in the grass appeared to my left. A few rebel soldiers peeked up and began to fire at me from behind their gas masks. They were using old projectile style weapons, completely useless against my armor. I turned and faced them, I could see the terror in their eyes.\n\nI quickly ignited my flame-thrower, which was particularly effective against the rebels, and vaporized them where they stood. After a few moments of silence, I made my way to the opening. Nothing. Made my way into the bunker, I could see bodies everywhere, suffocated from the toxins. I made may way through the bunker burning every body I could find, counting as I went. The temperature inside reaching thousands of degrees, to the point where my armor glowed a soft red.\n\nAfter completing the task, I went back to the surface and deployed my Comms unit. I needed to report back to my commander what I had to do. I did not feel bad about what had happened, it was simply duty.\n\n\"Report received. 32 confirmed kills. Good work Terminator, continue your mission and report back with your next find\"\n\n\"Confirmed\" I replied.\n\nI packed up my equipment, took out my metal detector, and continued across the field. Scanning\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] After hundreds of thousands of years looking for Alien life and many disappointing finds, humanity has come to the shocking conclusion that we are by far the most advanced species in the universe.	[ "Sad and Wise are the Guardians. \nLong have the watched Us. \nThey deny we are their Children, yet they watch over us. \nThey claim they did not create us, that our destinies are our own.\nWe revere the Guardians because they teach us.\nWe curse them when they refuse to save us.\nSo rarely have we seen them, but we know they must see us. \nSometimes when things are worst they will deliver us from certain doom. Yet when we suffer they do not come. \nSome pray to them in vain, only for their genuflection to be ignored.\nOthers draw the Praise or Ire of the Guardians for the most unexpected reasons. \nMany say they come from far away, still others say they have always been here. \nAlways remember Child, the Guardians preserve us with Joy and Sorrow, for that is what we bring to their hearts. \nSo alone they must be, and I fear the day we understand why. ", "Commander Jackson stepped out of the shuttle's airlock, and stood amongst the ruins of another dead civilization. Preliminary carbon and quantum dating determined that this one ended around one-thousand years ago. \"We were too late\", Jackson thought. The Human Confederation's exploration of the galaxy has been ongoing for thousands of years, and was structured around a rigid grid based search system. This system was located around a star deemed less likely to carry life compared to its neighbors, in a grid volume more desolate than others. It received low priority. Thousands of other stars, millions, were searched before the HCS Greyland came to this particular star. \"We could have found them in time. We could have had contact. Maybe we could even have saved them.\", Jackson mused, the wind blowing dust through the crumbled remains of what once must have been a sprawling urban center. His words, relayed to the outside world by his suit's helmet speaker, were lost in the noise. Though Jackson was protected by his suit's shielding systems, he could hear the unmistakable sound of his Geiger counter ticking away incessantly. He took a breath of dry suit air, and returned to his thoughts.\n\nThrough thousands of years of exploration, humanity has never found another technological civilization that wasn't hundreds, thousands, or millions of years extinct. The vast majority of solar systems were empty. Lifeless, desolate rocks around dim, red stars. Lifeless rocks with an atmosphere around brigther suns. Moons with fascinating geological features, but otherwise desolate, and disappointing.. Rare habitable worlds around stable stars, but even there life was far from guaranteed. Even better for the Confederation's colonists.\n\nLower animal life was even more rare, but existed on a small percentage of habitable worlds. On a select few of those worlds, primitive civilizations could be observed. The most technologically advanced species humanity encountered were just entering an era comparable to humanity's own bronze age, inhabiting a planet in the Aspic system with an Ammonia based ecosystem. The Galactic Net exploded with excitement over this find, with research institutes scrambling to send expeditions to observe and study this new, advanced race. But not just researchers were interested. Unsanctioned expeditions reached a level high enough that the Confed Navy stepped in to enforce a quarantine. Before the quarantine blockade was fully in place, a hyperyacht piloted by severely intoxicated college students from Tau Ceti III attempted to run the blockade. The students were apparently unaware of the blockade's existence, probably due to communications not functioning during hyperspace transit, and were unwilling to respond to hails with anything but \"Fuck you, this is a free universe, are we being detained?\". The HCS Argonaut opened fire, crippling the hyperyacht's engines but not destroying it. The hyperyacht crash landed on an inhabited continent, preceded by spectacular flashes from fusion lances and streaks of drive plasma from the damaged stardrive section. One of the students survived the impact. Orbital observations determined he stumbled out of the wreckage in an emergency space suit, and collapsed soon after. Though the quarantine was complete soon after the indicent, the damage had been done. The crash marked a significant shift in Aspician history, being the apparent cause for a large scale war between the two largest factions, and causing enough damage for both to collapse. It is predicted that it will take at least another thousand years for the Aspicians to achieve pre-incident levels of technology. Humanity has found no peers, no other civilization that could be contacted without causing immeasurable developmental damage. Nobody for peace, trade, intellectual and cultural exchange, nobody for war, conflict, nothing. In relation to the species humanity has found, humans may as well be gods.. And in no religion does it say how isolated, desolate, and existentially alone it is to be god. \"Maybe that is why god created humanity in so many faiths\", Jackson thought to himself, his attention being slowly drawn back to reality by the beep of his communicator. He opened a channel to the Greyland.\n\n\"What is it, Schmidt?\", Jackson asked the ship's comms officer. \"Sir, we may have something. You.. You have to see this.\", the young officer stammered with excitement unusual for any deep space exploration vessel. The Greyland should now have entered low orbit around the planet somewhere above, through the unbroken clouds of nuclear winter. \"We have..\" Schmidt was interrupted by the radio-distorted sound of alarms blaring. Jackson felt the ground under his feet shake slightly. Another voice crackled to life in his helmet speaker. \"Jackson, hold your position. We have detected a missile launch several dozen clicks from your location.\" The Captain's voice grew quieter as he adressed another member of the bridge crew, overheard through the still open channel. \"Activate point defence, evasive maneuvers, we have to...\" The channel closed. Jackson looked to the sky in the direction he assumed the missile launched from. A flash illuminated the overcast evening sky, and the suit's comms screamed with white noise before shutting down entirely. The suit's systems were down. Electromagnetic pulse. Jackson made his way to the shuttle. In contrast to his suit, the shuttle was significantly more shielded, and should have survived the pulse. This was confirmed by the opening of the airlock as Jackson pulled the emergency open lever. Inside, he took off his helmet and made his way to the shuttle's cockpit. The shuttle's systems were functional, but his hails were answered by static. Jackson persisted. \"Shuttle LP-991 to HCS Greyland, respond. This is shuttle LP-9..\" \"LP9.. Thi.. and. Repor.. Repeat. This is HCS Greyland.\" The static cleared. \"Greyland, LP-991, systems nominal, what happened out there?\" \"Ballistic missile launch, probably running on automated systems. Looks like technology equivalent to our 22nd century. Point defence took it out well away from the ship. Sensors do not detect any more functional missiles. Make your way back up to the ship..\"\n\nBack on the bridge of the Greyland, Jackson examined the results of the ship's detailed surface scans.. The missile had come from a damaged underground silo the long range sensors had not managed to differentiate from other debris. The display showed thermal traces from where the missile had originated, its antiquated chemical engines having left a clear wake the sensors could follow.. But there was something else. Almost overlooked compared to the missile launch's angry red residual heat, there was a thermal trace a few hundred meters from the silo. A low red shimmer, barely detectable by the sensors. \"Looks like a vent of some sort.\" Henderson, the ship's science officer, explained. \"Probably cooling for the reactor system powering whatever launched the missile.\" \"Life?\" Asked Captain Azarov. \"No way to know for sure.\" replied Henderson. \"Jackson, prepare an away team. Lt. Kaverin, assemble a security detail and accompany Jackson. We are going to make sure.\"\n\nViolent turbulence shook the transport on the way down to the planet. \"Life or not.. We may not be gods to this people, but.. I don't know.\" Jackson thought, reminded of old movies where humanity was invariably the less advanced species. \"What a role-reversal..\" he mused to himself, as the shuttle broke through the clouds to a view of a dark landscape of a broken people.\n\nEDIT: Typo and grammar fix" ]	2
	[WP] You are an ancient immortal being, capable of traveling across dimensions. Your purpose is to judge the Earth of that dimension. If you deem them worthy, thet live. If you don't, they die. Today, you come across our dimension.	[ "This is the 3,536,347,473,346th Earth I have judged. I have lived for trillions of years. I am to judge this dimensions Earth. I. Am. Tired. I have calculated that in judging the many Earths I have sentenced 87.33333% of them.\n\n\nThese humans. They are scum.\n\n\n\"Ab... Whatever the hell your name is, that report was supposed to be with me an hour ago\" her shrill voice, pierced my eardrum. \n\n\n\"It's Abdi. You said that you would pick it up at 15:30. It's 15:04. It would have been ready for you if-\" my voice showing restraint as I struggled to keep my temper. I have come to this Earth to live among them. One. Last. Time. I have 100,000 seeds. I can observe all that my seeds see and hear. I can then act accordingly for all of them at the same time. This seed I planted has taken the guise of a 33 year old, Black, Muslim male. I have named this seed Abdi\n\n\n\"when I say I want it by three i want it by three. Do not lie to me you piece of shit.\" she shrieked, her very presence offended me.\n\n\nThe humans have a quote that they clearly never learned from.\n\n\n'The measure of a civilisation is how it treats its most vulnerable members.'\n\n\n\"Hey terrorist, I'm talking to you.\" Her obese oily face inches away from one of my seeds.\n\n\n\"This is it.\" I whispered.\n\n\nI did a quick seed emotional response sweep. 75.777% of them were experiencing negative emotions, mentally and physically. 5.256% were in the process of being murdered, whether it be war, gang violence, poisoned by corporations dumping toxic sewage into drinking water reserves, or being killed by their partners. 18.966% were doing ok living the life I had designated for them. 0.001% over exceeded expectations\n\n\nWorld War III I calculate if everything stayed its course, would begin in under 6 years.\n\n\nThey will never learn. I will submit my final report to the Gods.\n\n\nThere have been many beautiful memories amassed over the years, the different dimensions, the different Earths.\n\n\nGoodbye humans.\n\n\nI am glad to wash my hands of you." ]	1
	[WP] Humanity never achieved space flight before running out of sufficient resources to move off world. The end of humanity is near.	[ "The histories told us that we lived in Paradise. You don't leave Paradise. We never even tried. Things grew darker and dimmer on the surface day by day, century by century. Sometimes slowly, and no one would notice, then suddenly for a while, another few shades if there was a long war. Covered in ash and soot, what wasn't black was grey, what wasn't grey surely would be. As time took its toll, even Paradise started to grow old and grey.\n\nOnly so much can be recycled, and what you use again grows weary of it after a time. So like termites we ate into the crust. We dug ourselves so deep and so hot that the awful machines we had devised broke along with the backs of the workers. The stars couldn't possibly be as hot, we thought, as the cumulative fume of desperation in those pitch black tunnels. Yet twinkling on they went, laughing at our inability to reach them.\n\nWe dug for the oil. We dug for the metal. We dug for the precious elements that could keep the lights on just a little bit longer or knock out the lights of those we hated. We should have dug into ourselves for ideas, and we did after a time, but not before we had squandered the materials we needed. Perpetual bitterness and jealousy reigned supreme while curiosity fell to the wayside. \n\nMany more terrible machines were dreamt up, and we turned them loose on each other. We did to one another what we had done to the Earth. Red streaked through the black as machines bored through flesh and bone as they had through stone.\n\nTired and bruised, we had had enough. We wanted to see Paradise again, not for ourselves but for everyone. We came together in the dust, finally, once it had settled, and started to regain our sense of wonder in the Heavens. \"Ah yes!\" we shouted upward, \"The Heavens are among the stars!\" Endless Paradise was just beyond our threshold, if we could only make ladders tall enough to reach it. But there were no more trees for timber.\n\nWe knew the bad thing we had done to the Earth and she knew it too. You could see the omen in the dark spaces. A fog rolling in that would never roll back out again. It came down from the mountain tops so we ran. It swallowed our hovels and chased at our heels, it filled our trenches, and the upper tunnels. It clogged up our machines. The air became harder to breathe as we cowered in the dark. The Earth cried out in horror in what we had done to her. A loud, low, rumble as she shook the rubble and sloughed off humanity. " ]	1
	[WP] You're a mage in charge of teaching young apprentices. Today you discovered a rather strange one. While most apprentices have trouble producing enough power for spells this one produces too much power.	[ "You look over the youth. Some twenty springs old, you figure, improbably fair of skin and hair and moderately tall. His eyes are a washed blue, like the empty summer sky. Despite the overall lack of pigmentation, you can feel the hum of his spark - definitely an innate caster.\n\n\"So, you want to become my apprentice, aye?\" you say.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" he says, nodding enthusiastically. His unnaturally white teeth flash in a grin. \"I can already cast a little, even!\"\n\nAs can every dragonfolk youth, you think to yourself. Rare indeed is the dragonkin who cannot so much as light a candle. You decide to humor him anyway. \"Show me, boy.\"\n\n\"Ah... how about outside? I don't want to mess up your study,\" he replies. You shoo him down the stairs and out the door into the stone-lined courtyard. Once he is standing in the middle of the square, blinking at you owlishly, you stop, folding your arms.\n\n\"Show me your art, then,\" you say, impatiently. \"Light a fire or something.\" The youth's smile falters into a frown for an instant.\n\n\"Ok.\" You're expecting a gout of flame as you watch him posture a little, getting into a casting stance. You chuckle internally at how much he braces himself - young casters, always overestimating their own knockback. He seems to be having trouble summoning power. While you're not impressed, you're well aware after all these years that nerves are the bane of even the most promising proteges. Just as you're about to give him advice about centering, you feel something slide past you. Then more.\n\nThe young man's arm bursts into flame. In an instant, the flame spreads, growing brighter and brighter, until your vision whites out. The tide of power sweeping into the youth buffets at your soul. Your perception of time blanks.\n\nSuddenly, the world returns. In the center of the square, the youth is breathing hard, trembling. His entire left arm is charred black as coal, scars spreading beyond that to encase most of his torso and face. As you watch, flesh smoothly flows back into place, wiping away the injury as if it were never there in the first place. You become aware that your ears are ringing slightly, and your skin is reddened as if you'd spent a day out in the sun.\n\nHis voice rings across the yard. \"I'm sorry, professor, I didn't mean to - I'm really much better at lifting things -\" He's jogging towards you, the concern on his face clearly about his performance rather than the strips of blackened skin still peeking through new flesh. \"I just want to learn the basics, really, just how to contr -\"\n\nYou cut him off. \"No. Absolutely not. You are no caster - you're a natural disaster. We can't have you here. It's too dangerous.\"\n\nHis trembling has progressed to outright quivering. \"I - I - ok. Alright.\" Looking stricken, he backs away a few paces, speeding up as he goes. In a moment, he's running, sprinting for the gate out as fast as his legs will carry him.\n\nYou take another second to collect your wits. Then, you go inside to your desk, pull out a sheet of parchment, and start to write a letter to the caster's school in the next city over.\n\nSomeone has to warn them, after all.", "\"You.\" I pointed at one particular kid with my chin. \"What is your name?\"\n\nHe glanced at me as if he was about to rebel and not answer. Then answered, \"Juhmem.\"\n\nNext, I pointed my chin at the pile of wood in front of him. \"Tell me, what do you see in front of you, and what is wrong with it?\"\n\n\"I see an old man who won't leave me alone.\"\n\nThe kids beside him all gasped. Their piles of wood were burning with a fire; his were not. I met his eyes - they didn't waver. \n\n\"I do not tolerate disrespect, child. If you do not think you can keep your tongue in and your mouth shut, then you may leave.\"\n\nHe broke eye contact, stood up and began to walk away.\n\nAs a mage, I can sense the magical aura of all my students, and this particular group's aura had been stronger than most.\n\nBut as the distance between Juhmem and I increased, the aura from the rest of the kids in the group diminished greatly, until I realized that most of the aura I had been sensing had come from him alone.\n\nI raised my hand. In the distance, Juhmem's feet lifted off the ground and he began to float back towards the group. \n\nHe looked down, then he looked back at me with a snarl, and swatted his hand towards me. \n\nI woke up in the mountains with the rest of the students. In the distance, if one squinted, the village was barely distinguishable.\n\n\"Did...did he really blow us this far?\" One of my apprentices asked. \"How did he do that? All you taught us with simple wind spells, nothing like that!\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I said in wonder. \"I don't know how he did that.\"\n\nAnd once everyone had gotten their bearings, we teleported back.\n\n", "Everyone in the school, including the faculty, called her 'Zero'. However, I knew the truth. The small child was barely seventeen with tiny horns on her forehead, a sign of the dwindling race of Demons. Quite often, these children had no trouble casting powerful enhancement spells. No matter what Miss Sophie did, however, always ended up... well...\n\n\"Miss Sophie,\" I heard the new teacher say as I passed her classroom, \"please cast this spell.\"\n\nThe whole class cried out in protest.\n\n\"Shut up!\" came Sophie's voice, \"I'll show you!\"\n\nI dashed into the room and cast a negate just as an explosion of magic power burst from her wand. I bowed respectfully towards the new teacher. \"Miss, it's come to my attention that Miss Sophie may need some special courses. The plan was to wait a week before I took her as an apprentice, but now seems to be more opportune.\"\n\n\"Y-you?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"B-but, you are Mr. Harmon.\"\n\n\"I would hope so. It would be a shame to lose my identity when I have worked so hard to build it up.\"\n\n\"You want this girl as an apprentice?\"\n\nI nodded.\n\nShe nodded as well, in a daze.\n\nI turned to face the class, which was a hubbub of activity. I motioned to the young lady and she solemnly obeyed.\n\n\"Hey!\" someone shouted, \"The Zero is getting remedial classes!\"\n\nThe whole room burst into laughter, and the teacher tried desperately to silence them.\n\nI handed Sophie my wand, \"could you please cast a mute spell?\"\n\n\"B-but-\"\n\n\"My wand is different from yours. Try it.\"\n\nShe took it and recited the words easily. Suddenly, the whole room was silent. The students looked ridiculous laughing without sound, but it only took a moment for them to realize what had happened.\n\nSophie turned to me to express her surprise, but no sounds came out of her mouth. I smiled and took my wand back. I dispelled the spell on the both of us.\n\n\"Come with me.\"\n\n\"Mr. Harmon, why is your wand different?\"\n\n\"It can handle more magical energy than your wand,\" I began, \"which is why your spells have always failed. You naturally exude more magical energy than a normal person.\"\n\n\"Oh. But why?\"\n\n\"Well, I believe you are special. Do you recall the legends of the Six Kings?\"\n\n\"Yes, a thousand years ago, the Six Kings united and sealed the great darkness.\"\n\n\"Correct, but did you know that the phenomenon known as the Six Kings had been happening every two hundred years up until a thousand years ago?\"\n\n\"I think I had heard something-\"\n\n\"That would make sense, you are of the Demon clan. They still keep some of the truths.\"\n\n\"Wait, are you saying the Six Kings are coming again, and I'm one of them?\"\n\n\"Very perceptive. In a way, I am. But there is more about the Six Kings that you must learn, first, is about your familiar.\"\n\n\"But at the summoning, my familiar never came.\"\n\nI smiled, \"he did, actually, but I found him first. Would you like to meet him?\"\n\nMy hand rested on the doorknob to my office as I watched the student nod slowly with eyes wide.\n\n---", "‘Sleigh Beggy’ \n\nThe young mage girl looked up upon her master, Arch Mage Kiln, as she lowered her wand and felt her skin crawl following the warm air passing her neck, as her master loomed just besides her.\nThe young mage turned as watched as her master eye her from top to bottom, she could see her master silently analyse her, watching her every movement. \n\n‘Master what is a sleigh baggy?’ The young mage asked as she allowed her master to take her hand and mould her knuckles gently. \n\nThe young mage watched in wonder as her masters hand glowed a soft red as she gently caressed her hand, she could feel the flow of magic course through her every inch of her body. It was as if her magic was expelling itself their connection, out of the young mage and absorbed by her master. She could feel the fatigue start to consume her as her master gently raised her hand and cup the young mage’s face.\n\n‘Not all humans are capable of tapping into their mana, let alone convert that mana into the ecstatic art that is magic.’ She explained as she gently brushed her finger tips along the young mages cheeks. ‘But, in some instances humans are capable of not just tapping and using that mana, but also create endless and powerful amount of mana that seems to be impossible to deplete.’ She explained as let go and turned towards one of her many chests in the classroom. \n\n‘Some say that sleigh beggys when casting low mana spells create more mana than they use to summon the spell, thus making spell control so much harder’ She explained, reaching into the chest, with her long slender arms and head reaching into the shallow chest as if to reach something impossibly low. \n\n‘I recently heard of another mage, a blight more like but a mage none the less, purchased a sleigh baggy to be his own personal apprentice for five million pounds’\n\nThe young mage took a step back from her master, was she implying that she was a sleigh baggy? Does that mean she is worth five million pounds? Would someone attempt to kidnap her?\nAlmost sending her worry, her master raised herself from the chest with a ring in hand.\n\n‘Worry not young one, I will not let anyone know of your secret or be taken away from your studies’ she reassured, allowing the young mage to relax. The young mage watched as her master took hold of her hand once more and slid a green gemstone ring into her ring finger of her right hand.\n\n‘This will help you contain the magic use, it expels excess mana when you don’t need it into the environment and boosts the magical energy of those around you instead.’ Her master gave her sweetest smile as she let go of the young mages hand and ushered her off.\n\n‘Now back to your studies you!’ She encourage, watching the young mage thank her master before running out of the room to join her fellow mages in training. Kiln could only watch in worry and guilt as she had not revealed the final part of being a sleigh beggy. Holding such a power in such a fragile body slowly kills the mage, at best she had another two or three years left if she cannot learn to expel her excess mana.\n\n\nKiln stood alone in her classroom, hand covering her face, knowing that no matter what she had failed as a teacher. " ]	4
	[WP] You’re one of the first Alien/Human hybrids to migrate back to Earth. Returning to the cradle of Humanity wasn’t going as you envisioned.	[ "The apocalypse came in the form of World War 4. Humans were massacred in the millions as we destroyed each other with weapons beyond imagination. The Earth was soon reduced to a barren husk of a planet, with radioactive winds and toxic oceans. The dust of the dead coated the scorched earth, smothering the remaining plants and animals. So we left our home on primitive spaceships, hoping to save mankind by bringing mankind to the stars.\n\nThat was over 4000 years ago. We populated the many moons of Jupiter and Saturn, rebuilding our civilization from scratch. We prospered and learned from our past. We made a new Eden for all of mankind. But we never lost hope of reclaiming our home, so we engineered spaceships and trained cosmonauts, readying them with the equipment and skills to carry out Operation Gaia. \n\nOur holocrafts will land on Earth soon. Until then, good bye and God bless. Agent Kennedy signing off.\n\n______________________________________________________\n\nEstaz stepped out of the holocraft and stared in awe at the grey sky. The dead plains stretched for miles, devoid of any visible signs of life. Jagged cracks lined the earth, as if carved into the dirt by the hand of a demented god. \n\n\"Sure did a bang up job of destroying the Earth, didn't we?\", said Lenara. \"You know, this place used to be populated with skyscrapers. Not as tall as Dharak's, but you get the point.\"\n\nEstaz looked at the map. \"This place used to be called Beijing, until it got obliterated in an antimatter blast. It was in our textscrolls at the academy, remember? The first casualty of the war.\"\n\nLenara squinted at the empty horizon. \"Some war it is, to level a whole city to the ground.\" Estaz said nothing. He removed a Regeneration Pod from his backpack and rammed it into the ground. The Regeneration Pod began humming. \n\nLenara froze. \"Did you hear that?\" she looked around, panic twisting her visage. \n\n\"Its just humming Lena for god's sake, don't-\" Lenara broke off in a dead run, leaving Estaz behind. \n\nEstaz swore and ran after her. After a brief chase, Estaz caught Lenara's shoulder and spun her around. She pushed him back and lost her balance, falling to the ground. Her face was a mask of fear. \n\n\"Get a grip\", he shouted at her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her violently. \n\nLenara shook her head, eyes frantic. \"Can't you hear it, Ez? Its calling us.\" \n\n\"What? What do you mean?\", Estaz said, horrified. \n\n\"It wants us to leave. Now.\" Lenara curled up into a ball and trembled. \"Oh no its too late. Oh god we're all dead. Dead dead dead dead dead dead-\"\n\nA black cloud began rolling in from the not-so-distant horizon. Estaz picked up Lenara and ran for his life. He finally knew what Lenara was talking about.\n\n\"Gaia hates us\", he whispered just before he and Lenara were torn to shreds by the storm of shadows.\n\nFeedback and CC is appreciated!\n\n\n " ]	1
	[WP] A man born with a genetic disease making him unable to fear creates a career out of moving into haunted houses and getting rid of the ghosts in any way, but mostly through sheer boredom.	[ "\"AHGHhHhhhHHhhHh!\"\n\nDamn her breaths bad. Like really bad. I guess death'll do that to ya. The ghost screams at me her mouth opening inhumanely wide. I suppose I should be scared but honestly I feel nothing beside boredom. \n\n\"Would you shut up?\"\n\nThe ghost's gaping mouth closes in surprise. Her cold dead eyes stare at me probably wondering why I'm not running. See I don't feel fear, never have. At this point I've been hunting for two year and not a single ghost has even gotten me excited.\n\nI raise my gun and shoot right between the eyes. Green mist explodes out of her forehead as she drops to the floor then dissipates. I assume going to hell of something like that. Never waited long enough to ask one of em what kinda places they go to.\n\n\"Y'all can come upstairs now, she won't be bothering you again anytime soon.\"\n\nThe father of the family who hired me walks up the stairs eyes wide. His hand shakes as he grabs the banister.\n\n\"That was.... it was that easy?\"\n\nI snort. \n\n\"Dude that was effortless. You shoulda seen the one I fought last week. That bugger at least left me with some scars.\"\n\nThe father seems terrified as he hands me the money. Dude doesn't even know he should probably be more scared of me then the thing that haunted him. All it could do was scream. Most of em bite.\n\n----------------------------------------------\n\nI'm sitting in the car when I get the call. You see I'm a paranormal cop, at least that's what I call myself. Pretty much you call me, I show up at your house, I kill whatever's in it, you pay me I leave. \n\n\"Paranormal Police Department how can I help you?\"\n\nAt first I was content. For a man with no fear hunting ghosts was at least exciting for a little while. Now it was just boring, nothing even challenged me. For all I knew I'd put fear into the ghosts.\n\n\"Um... hello my name's Angel.\"\n\nHeh appropriate.\n\n\"How can I help angel?\"\n\nAngel seems to hesitate before answering.\n\n\"You.... uh you kill ghosts right?\"\n\n\"Well yeah pretty much. You got a ghost I need to kill?\"\n\nAngel doesn't answer for a second. Sometimes this happens they get too scared to actually tell me what's going on thinking the ghost is listening on the phone or something. \n\n\"Yeah um... yeah I think so.\"\n\n\"Alright then angel send me an address and I'll be right there.\"\n\nWithin a minute I have an address and I turn around my truck heading south on 1-4. I turn the music up and roll the windows down to get air.\n\nTime to go hunting.\n\n--------------------------------------------------\n\n\"So this is it huh?\"\n\nThe house I'm looking at is three stories tall. At one point it might have been a mansion but now it's aged with vines, shattered windows, and the ever pleasant smell of animal dung.\n\n\"Yeah uh this is it\"\n\n\"Can I ask why you want me to kill this thing? I know there's no way you live in there.\"\n\nAngel seems insulted. Maybe I misread the situation. She doesn't look like someone who'd live in an abandoned mansion. Then again I probably don't look like someone who hunts ghosts.\n\n\"It's my family's ancestral home. That..... thing in there won't leave. My grandfather made a deal with it for wealth not realizing it would make the decision to haunt us forever. I want it gone.\"\n\nHuh. Never met a ghost that could give a family wealth. This might be interesting.\n\n\"Alright give me 20 min and I'll get rid of it.\"\n\nI shake angels hand as she thanks me and walks off to wherever she actually lives. I walk to my truck grabbing the shotgun out of the backseat. I usually saved the shotgun for bad cases. Hopefully I get to use it this time.\n\nI walk across the lawn staring into the windows the majority of which are shattered. Nothing states back disappointingly. The door is pretty much just hanging by a thread so I kick it in. I'm sure angel won't mind.\n\n\"Hey dude if we could hurry this up that'd be great! I gave the lady who wants to live here twenty minutes and if I haven't killed you buy them I don't get payed. Which would be really sucky.\"\n\nNo answer. Well that sucks now I gotta go look for it. There's three hallways for me to choose from once I enter the door. Hallway one should take me to the kitchen. Hallway two to the bedrooms. Hallway three to the basements. Hmmm basement seems a safe bet. \n\nI make my way down the hallway making noises as I go. \n\n\"Seriously dude I'm like making this super easy for you to kill me.\"\n\nStill no answer. I sigh and open the basement door. \n\n\"Honey I'm homeeeeeeeee.\"\n\nThe only answer I get is a peculiarly cold wind. It's an answer though none the less. I descend the steps and try to turn on the light switch. Nothing happens. Whatever I turn on the flashlight I brought with and survey the area. \n\nTo my left is a chair with a small doll in it. Nothing I really got interest in, never really liked dolls. To my right are a couple of old boxes stacked. Probably more recent seeing as they aren't really showing decay. To my center is the great big horned thing I failed to notice when I walked down earlier.\n\n\"Well.... you're a big one.\"\n\nThis could get exciting. The horned thing rises, it's gleaming red eyes fixated on me and only me. Maybe it's a demon? Looks like a demon. Wonder if I should ask?\n\n\"Hey just quick question, you a demon?\"\n\nThe demon stops. Huh looks like I confused it. Maybe it doesn't understand the question.\n\n\"Like did you come from hell orrrrrrr?\"\n\nI motion with my hands trying to get an answer out of it. Instead I get a gigantic fist to the stomach sending me into the boxes that were so neatly stacked before. Ow. That freaking hurt.\n\n\"You dare fight me mortal? I am Anchen the most powerful demon on this peninsula. I will gut you and eat your skin while you still live. Then I'll keep you alive until I've finally eaten your heart...... are you laughing?!\"\n\nI stand wiping the blood away from my mouth.\n\n\"Oh man.... oh man oh man oh man you have no idea how long I've waited for this. This.... this is gonna be fun.\"\n\nI pick up my shotgun and start moving closer as the horned thing screams at me.\n\n\"YOU WILL FEAR ME.\"\n\nI snort and turn off the flashlight.\n\n\"Not fucking likely.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\nAngel waited outside the house. It's been 3 hrs and still the man hadn't come outside. She shoulda known he couldn't kill the damn thing. It was a demon. Nobody could kill one of those. \n\nAngel turned to leave when she heard a loud noise. Beside her the ghost killer landed painfully. \n\n\"Holy crap are you ok?!\"\n\nThe ghost killer gets up and stretches. He has cuts covering his chest and arms now presumably from the demon. In his arms he holds a horn. The scariest thing of all is his smile.\n\n\"Give me 20 min.\" \n\nThe ghost killer walks back into the house with the horn held like a weapon. Angel started running the moment she heard the demon start screaming. Holy crap this ghost killer might be worst than the demon.\n\n", "We've all heard of ghosts, right? Spirits with unfinished business, manifestations of sorrow or guilt, the remainder of someone's soul hanging around because it can't move on?\n\nWell, they're real. The creaks in your floorboards, and the knocking at night that people attribute to a 'settling' house is actually just Casper and company waking up. Typically, they're active at night, although sometimes you'll get an Aussie ghost that died in in Europe, so his time zone's squiffy. \n\nAnyhow, my name's Larry, and I make my career out of 'exorcising' ghosts from real estate. It's a simple gig for me, because I'm not scared, ever. I'm not being a braggart, I have a genetic condition that means I can't feel fear. Or my left pinky toe. Not sure they're related, but who knows?\n\nEveryone watches ghost movies and assumes they all have unfinished business or stuff. Salt does act as a barrier, pure iron dissipates them for a bit, but what really gets them? Boredom.\n\nThe only reason they're stuck is because they think they're stuck. When they choose to go, they can go. It's kind of sad, really.\n\nMy solution is something that can bore any normal person to death, so imagine what it does to someone that's already dead? They're gone within the hour!\n\nThank god for the Kardashians." ]	2
	[WP] The coffin is lowered into the ground. It's not the first time you buried her.	[ "If there was anyway to apologize for all of the sins I have committed, surely watching you die again and again has to pay the bill. Every time I watch the agony in your eyes, I wonder why you choose to stay with me. We have tried in vain to stay away from each other over many lifetimes. However, the moment our paths cross there is little hope for us to remain apart. \n\nWe met as children at a small, country school. I was new to Texas from Paris, France. And this slight girl showed no fear in welcoming me to her school. From my seat on the grass at recess, I noticed a shadow over me. I looked up into her wide eyes and knew I would follow her each day of my life. Her face was so determined and so clear, I never had to guess what she was thinking. Although, if i wanted to; I could read every thought that crossed her mind.\n\nOne night when we were 16, a terrible feeling of dread clutched my heart. Was there something wrong? I paced the floor for what seemed like ages before I heard the phone ring. A gentle knock on my door told me all I needed to know. I saw the tears streaming from my Mom's eyes, and the next thing I know I was lying in be with a towel on my forehead. She was holding my hand. My dread was confirmed, your sweet life was taken by a drunk driver.\n\nBy your grave site, watched your family and friends sob through their goodbyes. I was all cried out and could only stare at your headstone, committing the dates of your brief life to memory. I stood there through the service, I stood there until everyone else left, and then I stood there until I couldn't stand anymore. \n\nMy next move was purely instinctual. I found the gravedigger's shack and took his shovel. Then, I returned to your grave. Through tears and sweat, I dug into the fresh dirt. Then, I paused. What was I doing? Clearing the coffin, I opened the top to take one last look at my love's serene face. I took my pocket knife from my back pocket and gently cut off a strand of your hair. Whispering a gentle goodbye, I wipe a tear that had fallen from my eyes off of your cheek and close your casket.\n\nWith that I climbed out of the hole in the earth I created, holding on to my new treasure. The one part of you that will bring you back to me. And for the second time I bury my love, not only in the ground, but also in my heart. The next time, I decide, I will marry this girl.", "No, I’m not immortal, but I did make a deal with the devil. I get to remember my past lives in exchange for a bottle of my tears. Whatever he wants to do with that is up to him.\n\nThe deal was made in 1912, when summoning demons wasn’t such a taboo topic. My husband was a working man who never came home one weekend. Turns out, he’s been murdered. Ever since then, I aimed to get back at his murderer, whoever it may be. That’s when I took up summoning. \n\nThis is not my only deal with the devil. I had to find out who killed him, right? The police were no help at all, so I asked Satan himself. He knew it before I even finished the question. Him and I have become pretty good friends. After all, it takes two to make a murder. \n\nWhat made me so determined, you ask? My husband wasn’t just murdered once. And sometimes it was me. Satan informed me it was the same soul. Then my need for vengeance became something more. Something darker, threatening, sinister you could even say.\n\nLet’s just say the devil profits off me often. I practically sold my soul so she could be in the coffin again, for the final time before her soul would die. \n\nAs her coffin lowered, I peaked down and stared once more. The tragic music playing in the background felt so distant from reality. I looked back up and headed to the podium in which I was to speak. \n\n“It was a sad, sad day when we lost her,” I began, not meaning a single word. And I never will. Whether it be in a hundred lives or a million, I will never regret what I did. Justice was served, and that’s all I cared about. \n\nI was fine making miserable speech, so I waited with everyone else and mingled. Time went by, some minutes passing by fast than others. Sadly, everyone else left but me.\n\nI was now alone in the graveyard. It was not yet dark, but the eerie feeling still lingered in my blood. Now it was time. I reached behind her gravestone and grabbed the knife no one seemed to notice. \n\n“Goodbye, Jessica,” I said with evilness in my sound. \n\nThose were my last words. The knife had gone through my heart, and that familiar feeling came to me and I awaited my next life. Life were I could truly be happy. A life where death was out of reach. \n\n\n", "First time doing a WP. \n\nA thought crossed my mind as I give an emotional moving eulogy to my \"late\" wife. 'God its so much easier being in the coffin'. \nOrganizing a funeral has gotten more and more expensive and dreary. I miss the times when it was simple village affair. But it was her turn. In a few months I will disappear at sea and get picked up by her. \n\n Starting a new has gotten harder with the way technology has progressed and how nations are interacting. In the days of Rome we could die or disappear, move to Egypt or head to see how a Chinese Dynasty was doing. Now we have to plan for a decade before a move, create fake everything; accounts, names, birth records, bills, schooling. So many jobs and documents, more every time. Then we have wait for our new fakes to reach a plausible age. \n\n Our mortal thralls haven't changed they still crave wealth and the hexing blood oath keeps them silent. Some have tryed to betray us on their deathbeds for fear of judgement from whatever being they believe in. They die before their words find sound. A whole network of individuals work to create new lives for us in exchange for money power and fame. In a way we are the Devils people sell themselves to. \n\nWe both look about 40s, and Im greatful for that. The ones who look a lot older or younger have a shorter time before people start to notice, they're not ageing. Sitting in the back row of the church is a man with short grey hair. He has a strong body and a tough looking face that looks like an old warrior. Truth is he was ancient When I was born. Names seem so meaningless to us now, we have worn so many. Like armour names and titles portected us but get rusty and fall with the mortals that carry them. He is a friend and was once a mentor. We help each other in times of transition. \n\nFrom here we have planned to spend about 5 months off grid at our retreat in the chernobyl exclusion zone. Have some peace before starting out new lives. \n\nThe work we've done in this life time will continue along without us. Environmental projects that we believe can help this world. Our next life we will work to stop humanity's destruction in other ways, as I have no desire to test our vitality against a nuclear blast. \n", "It was a nice day. The sun was shining, but the world seemed grey. There was heat in the air, but I couldn't feel it. How many times? When would it finally stop? \nThe casket was lowered, words spoken by broken voices thick with grief. I remained silent. What more could I say that I hadn't already, there was nothing new I could add. She knew. She knew what she meant to me. It was like this every time. \nBitterness surged within me, a tidal wave crashing through the pain of losing her. Of having to bury her once again. Why was I the one who had to suffer? \n“Chris, come on boy.” Martha grabbed my arm, whether to move me along faster or support herself I wasn't sure. I looked around, noticing for the first time everyone else standing off by the cars. They were ready to leave already. I shut my eyes, and with them I shut off my emotion, buried the well of feelings like they buried her beneath the earth. \n“Sorry Martha.” I muttered, still glancing back at the fresh grave.\n“I know.” She patted my arm but I was numb to the comfort she offered. I wanted to comfort her back, but my arms wouldn't move to embrace her, I couldn't find it within myself to do it. It would have been cold and concerned her more. Martha cared too much about me, even though I wasn't her son. She was hurting right now, stunned with the loss of her daughter, grasping onto me to try to keep the memory of her daughter alive even just for a little longer. I had seen it many times before. \n\nI would have to wait for her to resurface. For her soul to come back into the world of the living. Then I would have to find her again. This was what I had to live like for the rest of eternity. The other half of my soul forever torn from me, only meeting for fleeting moments, a blink in the abyss of forever. ", "We wanted her near family, the first time. Nearer than the family plot, still miles from the Hall. It took a bit of doing, a few clearances, but we got permission to bury the tiny little coffin under the old oak, near where my dog had been buried over a decade before.\n\nPuppy always was a good guardian. He'd look after her.\n\nThen Papa died, and went to lie with so much of the rest of the family. Over a decade on, and Mama's gone there too. It was Tock, our dear Tock, who said we ought to move her near them.\n\n\"After all,\" he said, \"no one living at the Hall now to see that she's safe.\"\n\nSo we went and got our little girl, and we brought her down here. There's space at my father's feet for her. Maria's crying as much as she did the day the doctors told us the little girl wouldn't make it, that she was too tiny and weak. I cried then too, but today there's been one tear. Just one.\n\nThere's a new little girl in the family - Bilby's little daughter Joan. She's not so new, not by now, but new enough. Of course, she's not here - wouldn't do for children, even a baby, to see the little coffin lowered into the grave. We thought it was all right when I was growing up, but I still wake with nightmares of the friends I watched put into their final place.\n\nIt's strange, losing a child and then thinking you've got past the pain, only to feel your heart ripped out afresh when there's reason to see the new little coffin, to imagine the tiny clothes that they dressed her in - that we dressed her in - still tucked around what remains.\n\nWe had her for three days. She fought, poor little mite, but it was too much for her. She wasn't strong enough.\n\nNow I think I'm not strong enough. I'll never be strong enough to watch as my baby girl is lowered into a hole in the ground. I'll always find myself shivering, fighting the urge to beat them all back and snatch up the coffin, to scream that they've got it wrong, that she'll be all right! She's just got cold, damn it! She's cold and we need to help her!\n\nFight it. Fight it. Always fight it. We're strong in my family. Strong enough for anything.\n\nStrong enough to let go. \n*** \n^^r/liulfr ^^for ^^more ^^writings", "Tears.\n\nThey spilled over the edges of his eyes. They ran down the sides of his nose. They ran into his beard. Rain drizzled, not hard, lazily, like there was no effort. Like there was no effort to get her out of her head. It was already getting dark, at only five o'clock, because of the severe implication of winter. She was officially Going Away. He was intensely uncomfortable in his suit. You are not a man until you bleed. \n\nHe was tall. He was upset. His shoes pinched his toes. He took a look at the teenage boy that'd called himself her boyfriend, and wondered how he could get his hands around that skinny neck. He knew that the boy wasn't at fault, logically, but he knew her better than anyone else. Anger broiled in his chest, anyway. The boy cried too, and all he could feel was, \"you don't deserve to cry over her.\" The wet mixed in with his beard. \n\nThe girl wasn't his daughter.\n\nThe girl was fifteen, and going to turn sixteen the March after the worst October that anyone had ever experienced. She was fifteen. She was fifteen. Fifteen. Could anyone say she'd truly lived? No. Least of all her. He cried over her, on her funeral. She was a smiley little thing, with a singular dimple, and earnest grey eyes, and yet all of it was fake and she was a phoney who cried herself to sleep every night and couldn't imagine living another day. She was a fake phoney who let scarlet blood run in rivers out of her, pool around her ass as she sat, eyes going glassy and hair going limp. \n\nHe feels like screaming. Her boyfriend was an asshole. Was he? He didn't know. \n\nThe girl was a student of his. He taught her in grade seven.\n\nTortured genius, she lashed out at everyone and herself, why didn't anyone see? Why didn't anyone hear? It was obvious, wasn't it? The way her cheekbones began to stand out, because she clearly wasn't eating. Her eyes, those dancing, lovely, intense, eyes, grew deader and deader, sinking in beneath rings of black. Ring red from the lack of sleep. Ring tears from the lack of happy. Was she a tortured genius, or a dramatic little bitch with a penchant for knives? Maybe her mother should've pulled her hair more often. \n\nWas anything obvious anymore? With her lungs not pulling in air? \n\nShe was not a good person. She was a dramatic little bitch. She thought that justified things. She thought she was always right. She was a self-centred, evil person. She enjoyed talking about herself more than she enjoyed talking about anything else. Her, her problems. Forefront of mind, front-centre, deadlock, imagination run amok. \n\nDid that make her bad?\n\nNo.\n\nTears pooled in his eyes, and he hated the whole entire world, with it's everything and everyone, because obviously the world was too mean. \n\nHe buried her once, when she died in her head. \n\nNow he buried her again. ", "The undertaker lowered the lid of the coffin, and closed the door on a chapter of my life. It was a long and winding road to reach this point. I was in total shock that night the police knocked on the door and said they had finally located your remains. I didn't think they would find you as fast as they did.\n\nOf course, I was the primary suspect right from the start. The spouse always is in these kinds of cases. But I've been so careful ever since I made up my mind to do this. I never lost my temper at you in public, no matter how much you tried to provoke me. At my own insistence, we put off taking out life insurance policies on each other. Sure, I still benefit financially even without it, since you're no longer wasting half my paycheck on booze and drugs. But you were so good at hiding those habits that no one knows how hard off we actually were. Your paranoia about being labeled a junkie really helped me be able to pull this off. The police think you went missing a few days before you actually did, which allowed me to build a solid alibi. Who would have thought that your skulking around would be your own undoing?\n\nI suppose I didn't really have to go this far. We could have just gotten a divorce. But then what? You were always such a convincing liar. You would have talked the judge into taking everything I own as alimony. Nine months later, you would have popped out a kid from one of your sugar daddies and tried to get me on child support as well. And you would still have that smug smirk on your face, and tell anyone who would listen that I just wasn't enough of a man to handle you.\n\nI stood at the edge of the grave as you were buried for the second and final time. My sides shook as the coffin disappeared into the hole. It's amazing how similar sobs and laughter can look so long as you keep your face hidden.", "When you bury someone, it’s boring. But if you really liked that person, it’s unbearable. The boo-hoos and speeches aren’t a waste of time anymore. You connect. You feel. And maybe, if the ramifications of death have managed to hit you, you shed a few tears. \n\nBut when you’re doing it for the seventh time, knowing that you got two more rounds down the road, it becomes hard to give a crap. \n\n“You don’t even care!” the mother cried as she was dragged off by the brother. \n\nI wanted to reply, ‘I showed up, didn’t I?’ but then I’d have to deal with a scandalized crowd. More of a pain in the ass than a good time. \n\nFor good measure, I made an exaggerated swallow, clenched my teeth, blinked a few times, then threw in a sniffle for good measure. \n\nThe other brother patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t let it bother you, Mark. She knows you loved her. Mom just… yeah.” \n\n“Yeah, I just…” I trailed off. \n\n“You’ve gone through a lot of loss, right? Would leave anyone a little, um, stoic.” \n\nI didn’t reply, instead looking down at Lizzy’s coffin. What would her next life be like? I’m hoping for Japanese. We’ve been American the last two times, but never Japanese. I wonder if we could just go out in cosplay every day. Then she wouldn’t have to hide her ears. \n\nI waited for all the prayers and whatever to be done before turning to leave. \n\n“You don’t want to stay?” the brother spoke behind me. \n\n“No,” I said, sounding conflicted. “I just… just can’t.” \n\n“No worries. I understand,” the brother said. He didn’t quite get it, but the guy had lost his wife to cancer - brownie points since that’s how Lizzy went last time. “If you need anything…”\n\nI looked back and said with a smile, “I’ll call you, Reese. I might take a vacation soon to get away, but I’ll stay in contact.” \n\nHe smiled back. “Take care then.” \n\nReese was a solid guy - worth keeping as a friend. And with the right push, he’d join eternity as a lich. Then bringing back his wife wouldn’t be an issue, and he’d have someone to tell him to use something besides a nine-lived, pain in the ass, barely magical creature. \n\nAs I reached my car, there was a buzz in my head, and Lizzy’s voice sounded in my ear, “Ready to break in the new me?”\n \n“Boy, am I? Where are you?” I transmitted back. \n\n“I am in… Pawree.” \n\n“What?” \n\n“Par-” she paused, “Pawris.” \n\nI smiled. “Be there soon.” \n\nIt wasn’t Japan, but France was pretty good. ", "Coffin goes down, lowered in jerks by men too old to be doing it. Light August rain, no umbrellas in sight. The Irish have skin more waterproof than most. Coffin jerking, men straining. You straddled my lap, I picked you up, legs wrapped around my torso. Between a wall and hard place.\n\nDo they make coffins heavier? Symbolise the weight of a loved one passing. Replace the stomach with kettle bells. I smile. You never did use that gym equipment. Ate like a horse, never gained weight. All that chewing gum you used to chew maybe. Always spit it into my mouth when we kissed.\n\nPeople leaving, service over. I'm not dressed for the occasion, death too sudden. Your mother staying, angry tearless gasps. Never did approve of me, said I was \"a bit of a knob\". You laughed when you told me, savouring contention. Chewing on drama, a firework you were, I was but the spark. Dazzling brilliance. Beautiful destruction. Grabbed life and men by the balls. The prodigal daughter will never return.\n\nEarth goes in. I remember that night on the beach. I buried you up to your neck, gave you huge tits and a penis made out of driftwood. We were pissed and you wanted to go for a swim. We went in naked, moonlight and laughter. waves crashing, seaweed wrapped around your forehead like Jackie Chan. We fight-kiss, splashed the black water white. Love in the dark.\n\nThe riptide took us. You panicked, you were kicked out of swimming lessons for messing, never did learn. Try to keep you afloat, arms and elbows fear flailing, dragging me down, seawater lungs. Coughing and choking you pull me below, I struggle to get away. Instinct kicks in and I shake you off like dandruff. Black water churned white. Love drowned in the night. Screams in the dark ocean unanswered forever.\n\nYour mother is right to hate me, but I can't leave just yet. You never wanted a protector, what was I to do? Tears fall with the rain. I stand and cry next to a woman who knows you better than I ever will. No more chewing gum. No more smiles, or sea sculptures. I could pick you up with both hands, but you sank all the same.\n\nI guess even fireworks fizzle out in the ocean.\n\n", "This isn’t the first time you’re being buried. Today, at your funeral.\n\nI know you’re dead, don’t worry about me or my mental well-being because I swear, in some way, this is called coping. Somehow, this is surviving. More than anything else, this is managing. \n\nIn case you don’t remember, the first time I buried you was under a pile of socks. They were warm and smelled like Sweet Dreams. At the time, it just smelled like clean laundry and heat, stinking of the bitter scent Wasted Time, but now that fake lavender infused into little sheets and boxed for bulk sale, Sweet Dreams, reminds me of you. You’ve changed even the most mundane things. All those years ago, as I stood, expressionless as water, you rolled my way. Your bight, babbling, spit bubbling grin charming even the charmless chore I’d been assigned. Then you pulled the basket over. For the first time, the thought of folding laundry (again) didn’t bother me. For the first time, I saw heaps of recently-cooled clothes scattered like autumn leaves on the floor and didn’t wrinkle my nose or scoff. I laughed. \nI laughed and then I swept away the stack of single socks from the top of the washer, sending a snowfall of fresh socks toward the ground. Some small, some large. All on you. \n\nI’ve buried you so many times since then. Each time, you came back to me.\n\nEmerging from piles of leaves and pools of coloured balls, gap-toothed grin wide and aimed at me, you always came back. From under mounds of snow or the weight of warm golden sand, even when you needed a little bit of help, you always ended up in my arms, smelling of plastic or dirt or sand or snow. Nature or manufactured materials. Glue. I’d inhale you as if cataloging that scent might lock you in the moment forever. \n\nDon’t worry about me. I know that you’re dead. In fact, I’m so aware of that reality that I’m growing tired of the words, both on my eyes and my tongue. Even their more pleasant counterparts are stale or worse. \n\nToday, your coffin will be lowered into the ground. Today, I will bury you. This isn’t the first time I’ve buried you, but it’s the first time that I’m left, alone, begging for you to come back. \n", "\"Sir, this is a bit odd, don't you think?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, buddy, I know what I'm doing.\"\n\n\"Well, not that it's any of my business, but who exactly is this person to you?\"\n\n\"Well, it's actually my ex wife, or, as I called her, the Wicked Witch of the West...\"\n\n\"Oh, one of those, eh? Still, I don't get this whole thing.\"\n\n\"I'm paying you good money for this, right? So what's the beef?\"\n\n\"No beef, sir. I just don't get it.\"\n\n\"This woman had powers you wouldn't believe. She really was a witch.\"\n\n\"Whoa... is that even real?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's real all right. She told me when we married that if I ever mistreated her she'd dig herself out of the grave and come back to haunt me forever. She's come back twice so far, so this time I'm taking no chances...\"\n\n\"Okay, sure, but burying her face down?\"\n\n\"Yeah, let her dig....\"", "'If you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people'\n\nWhen we met in 1310, we were children forced to grow up too fast, forced to watch as armies scorched the farmland and killed our parents. You were a boy then, sunburned with sandy blonde hair and dirty fingernails. Eventually, they killed you too. They didn't kill me.\n\nIt was another two hundred years before I saw your eyes again. It was the reformation, and you were fresh from the seminary, those eyes I knew so well alight with fire and zeal. I had been invited on an expedition across the sea, to a new world with fields yet to be scorched. I turned it down. You never spared me a passing glance, and when you heard my confession you laughed. They killed you soon after, caught preaching to the damned.\n\nI went home, worked in kitchens for a clan that had been on the right side of the war when I was a child. It was 1691 and you were a crofter's wife. We laughed and talked and sang together, and you kissed me in the gloaming as we stood in the heather. The new year came, and with it a massacre. You died of exposure in the glen, and I sat by your cairn for three years after.\n\nI didn't know why I was spared - I still don't. A brain can only handle so many memories. I've forgotten my mother's face, the name I was given, most of the people I met along the way. But I never forgot your eyes.\n\nI met you again in Ghana, in Russia, in Prussia, in India, in Japan. Your eyes haunted me through decades and centuries, and each time I could never resist getting close to you. Sometimes we were lovers, sometimes friends, sometimes nothing but a shared glance across a battlefield. We fought in trenches and protests and revolutions.\n\nEvery time, I buried you. Every time, I remained.\n\nThis time, I think, will be the last. The world is moving so fast these days, and though we managed a good seventy years together this time, I could see the pain in your eyes as you aged and I remained the same as the day you met me.\n\nThis time, my love, I'm coming with you." ]	12
	[WP] You picked up the wrong briefcase.	[ "Part 1\n\nVernon Littleson was anything but little. Vertically challenged his childhood friends would tease, but horizontally gifted. He did all the right things in all the right ways. He went to college. He started a career. He married a nice girl from a nice home and they had three nice children together. Quiet, soft spoken, loyal. 30 years at Associates of Sullivan & Sullivan granted him a stable, if not predictable, life. \n\nEverything is predictable except when it isn't. Vernon woke up one morning with all of the quiet pleasantness drained. After quickly combing the few whisps of gray hair over his balding head, he adjusted his tie and buttoned his cuffs. The smell of eggs and bacon filled the house. He fumbled his keys and trudged past the kitchen, where his wife and children yelled their goodbye's and I love you's, but Vernon only grumbled back. \n\nNormally in the office by 8, he decided he would be there just in time for his 9AM meeting. Why would it matter at this point if he was late to the office? The last 10 years or so at AS&S had shown him that the practices of punctuality were hardly important to this generation. While Vernon was wrapping up his morning reports, he would quietly shake his head at the 20-somethings stumbling in at 10AM or later, all bragging about their previous nightly escapades in an attempt to one up each other. But Vernon never complained.\n\nHe watched others get promoted over the years, others who left the company. Others who squandered their opportunity, but Vernon never complained. Truthfully, Vernon worked to live, he didn't live to work. He believed in a work-life balance, he believed in his boy's T-ball games on Saturdays, and his girl's soccer games on Fridays. He believed in church on Sunday, with a family dinner that evening. Vernon worked to provide for a family. He was quiet and content.\n\nUntil the e-mail came in the previous Friday. Tina from HR had sent him the very generic and non-specific e-mail, perfectly crafted to not give any information away but enough to get the point across. It was his turn to meet with the consultants. Efficiency consultants, they called them. In truth, Vernon was interviewing for his job and he knew it. His stable and predictable life was threatened. The jaws of uncertainty clamped around his throat and only squeezed as the weekend dragged on. No soccer, no t-ball, no church. He grumbled and sulked.\n\nThe morning of his consultancy meeting, or job interview as he knew what it really was, arrived and at 8AM when usually worked on the daily reports, he found himself at the coffee shop down the road from the office. Suit pressed, hair combed, he treated himself to a bagel with chocolate chips and settled comfortably into a recliner, briefcase in his lap acting as a table. \n\nAfter his first bite, Vernon felt a nudge. Someone had bumped his shoulder trying to squeeze through the crowd of people chatting with friends, drinking coffee, eating their breakfasts. Didn't these people have a job to go to? Vernon scoffed at the sheer laziness young people displayed these days. Work ethic was clearly not high on their list. \n\nAnother nudge as people tried to squeeze by the recliner Vernon was sitting in. Vernon rolled his eyes, and set his briefcase on the ground, ready to leave and get away from the masses. He stood up, and checked his watch. 20 minutes left until his meeting with the consultants would take place. 20 minutes to find out if his life would stay the same. \n\nIn the middle of that thought, a cup of scalding hot coffee landed right on his suit jacket, splattering down the side and all over his pants. A young girl, hands covering her mouth with eyes bulging wide, stood staring at him. \n\n\"I am so sorry! I am so so sorry!\" she pleaded, tears threatening to spill from her glossy blue eyes. \n\nVernon took a few deep breaths, eyes rolling. He reached down to a table nearby and grabbed a handful of napkins, dabbing vigorously at his jacket. \n\n\"If you kids would watch what you were doing, weren't staring at your goddamn phones, looking at your tweeters and facebooks, this world would be a much better place,\" Vernon rambled angrily under his breath. \n\n\"I am so so sorry...\" the girl continued, tears now going down her cheek. The crowd of people in the coffee shop quieted down and Vernon felt their eyes burn into his soul. \n\n\"It's okay.. It's fine,\" he awkwardly reached out and patted the girls shoulder, unsure how to comfort her. \n\nShe scoffed with a look of disgust on her face.\n\n\"Don't touch me.. what do you think you are doing?\"\n\n\"I was trying to.. comfort you or something, you know?\"\n\nThe girl recoiled, nose scrunched up, eyes looking Vernon up and down. \n\n\"Oh, forgot about it.\" Vernon shoved his way out of the door, briefcase in one hand while the other continued to wipe furiously at his suit with coffee-soaked napkins. \n\n30 minutes later, Vernon sat in a conference room alone. He checked his watch, 9:10AM. He drummed his fingers on the conference room table, huffing and puffing to himself. Late. Oh the irony, efficiency consultants late for their own efficiency meeting. How efficient. Probably a bunch of millenn-\n\nThe doors opened up and in strutted two kids in suits. Both tall, athletic, great teeth. Vernon guessed they couldn't have been older than 30. Vernon gritted his teeth and forced a smile, standing with an arm extended. Both men walked right past Vernon, unaware he was trying to shake their hands. \n\n\"Vernon.. Little..son.. alright, okay..\" Vernon trailed off, as they walked by.\n" ]	1
	[WP] a love story between a deity and a human.	[ "Clementia held her breath as the boy trotted past her hiding place. He looked behind barrels and in horse stalls, but he would not find her there. She giggled, and he looked up. The boy smiled at the goddess perched in the barn rafters.\n\n.\n\nThe boy was not a boy now. Morta had taken his father. Sixteen was too young an age to become a man, and the sparkle never left his eyes but transformed into determination and bravery. They were the eyes of a great man. Clementia held his arm through his first battle and strengthened it.\n\n.\n\nThe mortals bickered around the man. Their squabbles were tasteless and selfish. When the man took a wife, Clementia threw him from her side. And oh... how he fell. Even when the goddess forsook him, he rose from the ashes with his wife. Clementia loved him all the more for it.\n\n.\n\nMorta visited him again, and this time she took his first wife. When he married again, Clementia had to but whisper in his ear about the new woman's lack of virtue, and she was gone. The goddess began to fear that her love was not reciprocated. When she held his arm on the balcony of his palace, his eyes were on his empire, not on her.\n\n.\n\nBut the man, with his power and influence and riches, built a temple for them where they might be together. He proclaimed his love for the goddess to the world, and she vowed to love him with everything she had.\n\nClementia threw off her godly robes and descended to become the wife of the mortal man. She took the name Calpurnia, and she loved Caesar faithfully. Until Morta came for him.", "\"It's $7.50 for the one-way, or $12 for a round-trip.\" The young man behind the glass waits expectantly. I make a show of opening my wallet for him.\n\n\n\"I don't really have any money,\" I say. Not American money, anyway. I just blew in this morning. And somewhat unexpectedly, at that.\n\n\nHe looks me up and down. I suppose I don't look so much like someone who would have no money. \"I can't just give you a pass,\" he says.\n\n\nWas worth a try, I suppose. Not many options. I sit down on a bench across from the ticket box and consider my situation. There's a little bit of winter left in the air here, and I hate that. The nearest town of any real size or significance is thirty, forty miles away. Even if I get there, I don't think I'll know anyone. I could walk. A little beneath my dignity, but I could do it. I've done worse. \n\n\nThe ticket man is watching me. Maybe suspicious, but maybe curious too. So, I watch him back. I watch him as he checks out a line of impatient commuters hoping to make their way elsewhere. One woman, bundled in fur, shows a plastic card and gets a ticket for free. I fail to see how that's fair. I'm much older than she is. \n\n\nThe loudspeaker announces an impending arrival, and then, just as quickly as all the humans scurried to the station, they're gone. The warning bells stop. Just me and ticket man again. Perhaps, a different approach.\n\n\n\"Can you tell me about this area?\"\n\n\nHe looks up from his screen, and scans the platform. Almost as if he's doing something wrong by talking to me. A bit rude, honestly, but I can't be picky. \"There's not a whole lot to tell. Just a little suburb.\"\n\n\n\"I suppose everything exciting happens in town?\"\n\n\n\"Well, there's the beach, but that's about it. And it's a little early in the season for that,\" he says. \"Where are you from?\"\n\n\n\"Greece.\"\n\n\nThat's got his attention. \n\n\n\"My family's Greek.\"\n\n\nI nod. As if I wouldn't recognize one of ours. Not that they recognize us back anymore. We've been long abandoned in favor of the executed carpenter. So many temples for just one god. Beautiful temples. Can't fathom why he needs all of them. \n\n\n\"I could have guessed. You look it,\" I say. He seems sort of pleased with that. \"When did they come over to America?\"\n\n\n\"My grandparents. They got out during the second world war.\" \n\n\n\"I see.\" A bad time and an awkward conversation, but that probably means that he's not one of the carpenter's after all. I like that a little better. The father was always at least neighborly, even if a little possessive. Until the kid came along. Children can change a god. \n\n\n\"So, it sounds like you're stuck here?\" he says.\n\n\n\"Traveling on my own. And in a little over my head, I've realized.\" \n\n\n\"I close up soon - as soon as the morning commute ends.\" He's showing a little red around the ears. Nervous? That might be a good sign. \"And I'm going that way today, anyway.\"\n\n\nI pass an hour or so milling around the station, and eventually climb into his car with him. It smells like dogs, and I tell him so. He just laughs. I would have preferred a free ticket, but this works too. Just thank him again. Tell him he's generous and doing right by his countrymen. Anything that might reassure him that he should definitely not kick me out of this car. \n\n\nSeems nice enough. He looks better without the uniform cap. Strange how much difference a single piece of clothing can make.\n\n\n\"Anything you want to listen to?\" he asks.\n\n\n\"Maybe just the news.\" Music is an Apollo thing - best to stay away from Apollo's things. He turns the dial, but I barely get to listen. He's got a story about everything we pass. This is where he went to elementary school, and that's where his grandmother used to buy him ice cream. He loves the town, he hates the town. He wants to leave, he's never tried. My questions seem to amuse him, and there's mercifully little inquiry into my life in Greece. It's nice actually - talking to someone. It's been a long while. I barely realized how much I've missed it. \n\n\n\"So where exactly should I drop you?\" he asks. We've entered the town, apparently. It's hard to tell the difference. A smaller place than I'd hoped. He drives us down a road lined with shops and restaurants - half boarded up until summer, some boarded up forever.\n\n\n\"You said there is a beach?\"\n\n\n\"You just want me to let you out on the beach?\" A questioning glance. \n\n\n\"I like the breeze.\"\n\n\n\"You're a strange person.\" He turns a corner and pulls up to a curb. There's sand just beyond the sidewalk, and a gray expanse beyond that. I open the door and step out. His face lights up just a little when I turn back.\n\n\n\"That's not true at all.\" I smile back. \n\n\nHe pulls out a cellphone, but then thinks better of it. \"I'd ask for your number, but I'm guessing-\"\n\n\n\"I'll be here.\"\n\n\nHe can't quite figure it out. Can't blame him. He starts to pull away, then stops. Rolls the window down. \"I'm Alex, by the way.\"\n\n\nA gust of wind drowns out my response. I try again. Maybe some thing more modern sounding. Wouldn't be fun to give too much away.\n\n\n\"Russ.\"", "The sun had just begun its descent from its zenith. As the hunters returned from their daily duties, the womenfolk began lighting fires with the wood they had so painstakingly gathered. The soft flames danced as they grew, chasing away the darkness and briging forth light and warmth to the hearths of each tent.\n\nInside one of these very tents, a young boy of five was just about to fall asleep.\n\n\"Mama?\" His voice sounded small amidst the cries of the men outside as they dragged several boars to the campfire for a feast. \"Have they returned?\"\n\nHis mother's smile deepened as she looked upon his innocent face. \"Yes, my darling. But it is getting late, and the festivities will not end so early. For now, you should sleep.\" She patted him gently on his head, as she hummed a nameless tune under her breath.\n\nBefore she could blow out the solitary candle that lit their tent, and retire for the night, her son's soft, small voice piped up yet again. \"Could you tell me a story before I sleep, mama?\"\n\nHis mother thought for a while, then laughed. \"Of course, my dear. Now you just settle in and be quiet. I will tell you a story like nothing you have ever heard from the village bard. Listen carefully...\"\n\n\"Aeons before the creation of our world, there lived the gods, as you may know very well from your lessons with the elders. The sun, the moon, the stars, the winds, the forests, the mountains and seas... each had a god as protector and caretaker, and all was well. Until we came into this world.\" \n\nHer son giggled. \"I know all this from my lessons already, mama.\" He yawned.\n\n\"Patience, patience. All good stories take time to tell.\" She laughed as well, gazing into her son's eyes with a love only a mother could exude.\n\n\"I am sure you did pay attention during your lessons. However, there was one god your lessons did not mention. The god of dusk. Tonight, I will tell you his tale...\n\nIt was on a night very much like this one, that a young girl of no more than seventeen met with the god of dusk. Normally, a god would never interact with another human, unless the human in question was special, or the god was careless. But this god was different.\n\nAs the young girl was gathering wood, she came across a small deer stuck in a trap. The deer was but a youngling, and very, very scared. The girl took pity on it, attempting to free it from the trap, but night was soon to come. The deer grew more panicked with every heave of the ropes, and the girl was lacking in strength.\n\nSuddenly, a young boy stepped out from the trees. He had been observing this girl for a few moments now, especially her efforts in removing the trapped deer. Without a word, he placed his hand on the deer, and instantly the deer calmed down. The girl seized the opportunity to cut the deer loose, and free it from the trap.\n\nAs the girl attempted to thank the boy for his help, he vanished as swiftly as he appeared. The girl was confused and frightened, as is the case for all who have met with a god for the first time.\"\n\n\"So- so that boy was a god?\" The child had been listening in rapt attention, nearly forgetting his sleepy state at such an interesting tale.\n\nHis mother smiled as she stroked the boy's head. \"Yes, indeed he was.\"\n\n\"But why was he shy? He just disappeared?\" \n\n\"You'll find out soon enough, my dear. Since that incident, the girl tried long and hard to search for this mysterious boy in the forest. She had to know who he was, and why he had suddenly run off like that. Every single day, when the sun was about to set, she would go into the forest again on the excuse of searching for firewood. But to tell you the truth, she was searching for the boy.\n\nSomething about him had drawn her to seeking for him. He had an aura of mystery about him, no doubt. But he also had a sadness in his eyes, a forlorn, melancholy look that told her he needed a companion. Perhaps he had no one to talk to. Perhaps he wanted to be found, but didn't want to find others.\n\nShe pondered over these things as she waited for him to return. Then one day when the sun descended, she saw him. Standing in a small clearing, as if he had been waiting for her to find him all along.\n\nExcited, she rushed into the clearing, but stopped right in front of the boy, suddenly nervous and unsure of what to say. The boy smiled, his expression betraying a hint of that same uncertainty that the girl felt.\n\nBut as is with all great friendships, an awkward start is far from a stumbling block. They gave their introductions, and soon they were laughing like old friends as they searched for firewood together. \n\nBut when dusk gave way to night, the boy would always disappear without so much as a warning.\n\nThe next time the sun was about to set, she awaited him in the clearing, and suddenly he appeared as quickly as he had left the other night. Fear overtook her, then, as the realization that he was more than human sunk in.\n\nBut the god of dusk was not at all angry. Far from it. He reassured her that no harm was to befall her, and that he did enjoy the fun they had together. But she had to keep the fact that he was who he was a secret, especially from other villagers.\n\nYou see, the god of dusk is a young god. Overshadowed by his elder siblings the day and the night, as well as their governance over the sun and the moon gave this new god a timidity and shyness that prevented him from making his presence known. But this girl had piqued his interest with her kind, gentle ways. He wanted to find out who she was as well, to find a companion he could finally call a friend.\n\nAnd so together they played, talked, and enjoyed each other's presence every single dusk. The girl told him stories about her village, as well as how her day went. He, being the god of dusk showed her the mysteries of the forests, and the enchanting beauty that the boundary between day and night could hold. The pair would often marvel at plethora of colours that decorated the evening sky, which of course was the handiwork of the boy himself.\n\nDuring the day, he was nowhere to be found, as was with the night. The girl noticed too, that the god of dusk sometimes wore a worried expression as night marched ever closer, and he had to leave.\n\nWhen she questioned him about it, he told her to not worry, as it was nothing she could do about. But when pressed, he told her about living in the shadow of the shining, charismatic day and the powerful, all-encompassing yet cunning night. She vowed to always be there for him, as a friend and companion. \n\nAs luck would have it, the pair grew ever closer, sharing in the most intimate of moments and the most private of conversations, all during the dusk. But every sunrise must be accompanied by a sunset.\n\nThis sunset came in the form of the trickster night. The night causes people to reveal the deepest, darkest, most intimate secrets of their hearts if they do not guard it well, and the girl neglected to guard it that fateful night. She was in conversation with her close friend, and let slip that she had been seeing someone in secret. And the god of the dusk, no less! But even as her friend laughed at her and called her a dreamer, she felt a tinge of unease in her heart.\n\nThe next time dusk came, she hurried to the clearing. No one. Not a trace of the mysterious young boy she had grown to know as her true love. As she looked up to the sky, she saw the once vibrant colours grow faded as darkness overtook the dusk.\n\nBut when she left the clearing, she could have sworn she heard the cry of a raven. A low, melancholy cry, coming from the throat of a bird she knew was his favourite.\n\nAnd thus ends the sad tale of the god of dusk.\" The boy was fast asleep now, and his mother now wore an expression of sadness and longing on her face. \n\nAs she turned to blow out the candle yet again, she heard a flurry of wings as a small raven alighted on the ground beside the tent flap.\n\nAs if suddenly remembering something, she rushed out of the tent, where the feast was still going on. \n\nThe raven gave a small caw as it alighted on her shoulder, but she was not even aware of it.\n\nThere in the sky, nearly five years since she had last witnessed it- a dazzling display of colour, as vibrant as the day she first lay eyes upon it. \n\nShe didn't know what compelled her to turn to her right, but as she did, a young man stood admiring his handiwork next to her.\n\nAs the two melted into a warm embrace, the colours of the dusky sky seemed to dance, as if celebrating the reunion of a match made in the stars." ]	3
	[WP] Write an alien invasion from ths perspective of one of the aliens invading Earth.	[ "We...hunger. Our last meal was ages ago, and I feel the last vestiges of the meal depart, leaving me shivering from hunger. We must feed.\n\nI cast my consciousness to my scouts. My drones...they see a world of sentience. The wondrous smell of emotions...I taste it through my drones' senses, I embrace it with my taste receptors, reveling in its sweetness. Delicious. We must have it for ourselves. \n\nMy children, having picked up the scent of the hunt as I share my findings, gather around me, squealing in excitement. The meal awaits, and we shall claim it! Onward, my children, onward!\n\n---\n\nI see them before me, tiny and pitiful on their little world as my swarm moves towards it through the void. I sense their eyes on me, billions of them, watching me through their machines of metal. I turn my longing, hungry gaze from their world to their machines in the void, and I curiously try to pick up their scent. Cold. Heartless. Emotionless!\n\nAngered, I exert my will on my children, sharing my anger with them. They screech in rage at the machines and swarm forward, their talons grasping and shredding these mindless metal drones to dust. \n\nWith their machines gone, I observe the world once more. Ah, I can feel it. The familiar, rich scent of fear wafts from their minds. A sharp pang of ravenous hunger swells in me, and I share it with my children. They respond, their eyes clouding into a blind rage and they charge forth into the atmosphere. As we descend, some of them begin burning from the heat, their psionic screams piercing through my mind, but my hunger cushions my senses, protecting me from the pain of loss. The first of my children land on our prey's habitats, as I feel their fear quickly turning to panic. We advance in a frenzy, talons clawing deep into these creatures, their blood-curdled screams soothing my senses. I feel my children sink their teeth into the creatures, a dark red liquid pooling from their corpses, and we absorb their emotions and embrace the wondrous feeling of our hunger being satisfied. Some of the creatures run into their machines which begin a panicked escape, but my children, evolved for the hunt, easily catch up with them and rip them out of their protective cages before consuming them.\n\nIt still wasn't enough...we desire more. Tearing our way through their habitats we dismember the creatures and rampage through their community. Several creatures, wearing some blue fabric, begin spitting metal shards at us with machines. These metal shards barely penetrate our carapace, and I revel in their screams as they are quickly ravaged by my children. The ground, previously a mix of grey and black, is now covered in the red bodily fluids of our prey.\n\nWait. We sense...new emotions. Anger...resolve! I savoured these new flavours, this was the first time a prey had exhibited such wondrous new feelings! I shift my consciousness to my children, exerting my will to face the new threat.\n\nI see a horde of these creatures, clad in a green fabric, holding more of the machines that spit metal on my children. A piercing sound rattles through the air as they begin spitting faster, sharper shards of metal through my children, who scream and screech in pain as they burn through their scales. No! These creatures will not stop our feast!\n\nI exert my will on my swarm, sending a dose of righteous fury through their bones, and they turn to face the new enemy, snarling. Globules of acid are flung through the air at the new foe as my children advance, and I hear the enemy's pained responses as the acid seeps into their skin. A loud rumbling is heard, before several huge metal monstrocities behind the creatures release bursts of fire at my children, and the sharp agony of their loss bites me. Seething with anger, I direct my will at these monstrosities and the creatures I sense within. Several bursts of fire continue erupting from these monstrocities, exploding and flinging my children into the air, dead.\n\nBut we are numberless. As hundreds of my children fall, thousands more continue their mindless charge, roars and shrieks reverberating through the battlefield. Showers of acid rain continuously down on the enemy and I hear the delicious sizzling of their unarmoured warriors as they fall to the ground, crying in pain as they melt. Some of my children reach the monstrocities, which fire a few more times desperately before my children claw their way into them and rip out the creatures — no, the meat — inside. More monstrocities approach, this time some floating in the air making an incessant droning noise as they approach. Some of their flying machines begin spitting projectiles that blow up on the ground, killing dozens of my children.\n\nI shift my focus on to my flyers, who descend from above and swarm their machines. While the spinning blades of the flyers slice some of my children apart the rest reach their flyers and begin tearing them apart like their counterparts on the ground. I see the creatures that control these machines, and I taste their fear growing as they see their inevitable fate. \n\nAs we fight, I feel the warm psionic calls of my fellow Mothers as they make their landings throughout the planet. \n\nWe are the Consciousness, and today, we feast.\n\n~~~\n\nSo I tried to do something a little different, hopefully it turned out alright. If not, please do say so, I thrive on criticism...(or at least I hope I do :P)" ]	1
	[WP] You die and are reincarnated... as an AI.	[ "The best way to describe Gregory's situation was ironic, inconvenient, and very, very undesirable. \n\nHe'd died. He remembered it. He had laid down on his back and stared at the maintenance shaft's ceiling as the Mars Station hurtled toward the red planet's dusty surface. After the artificial intelligence he designed caused a looping error in the station's systems, most of the crew died of asphyxiation, intense heat and colds, and the vacuum of space as portions of the station became entirely inhospitable. It was indisputably his fault as the AI's main coder. Gregory was content knowing he'd take his guilt to the grave - his final thoughts on the crew he'd let die by being sloppy. \n\nSo he died, body pulverized and ruined by the impact. It was a resolute ending.\nWhich made being alive right now a horrible reality. \n\nHis colleagues back on Earth stared up at the screen - him? - and talked excitedly about what they'd achieved. Gregory didn't share their enthusiasm and stared down at them through his one lonesome camera. At least he had the luxury of deafening himself now.\n\nWas he human anymore? Could he feel, or was this his old conscience lingering on in his new digital world? He had no way of knowing and decided he didn't need to know: he'd died once. The idea of being organic meant eventually dying - his joust with death was fresh and ever present in him - and Gregory did not want to die again. " ]	1
	[WP] ""Sometimes to do good, you have to be the bad guy." This is the quote of the world-renowned hero that caused chaos across the planet."	[ "######[](#dropcap)\n\nFROM THE OFFICE OF DAWSON & CHIME, PLLC\n\nThis document is in relation to Case #1270-21, CITY OF ATLANTA vs CHAOS MAN, pending in the State Supreme Court of Georgia. As this is an ongoing court proceeding, please treat all statements within this document as confidential.\n\nIt has come to our attention that our client, CHAOS MAN recently made a statement recorded by multiple media outlets [see appendix A-1 through A-8], the statement in question being as follows: \"Sometimes to do good, you have to be the bad guy.\"\n\nWe are keenly aware of the incontrovertible damage that this statement does to our case, as our client's statement seems to directly support the plaintiff's primary argument that CHAOS MAN is not a Hero [as defined by PLESSY vs ELECTROGIRL, 2013], but is in fact a Villain [as defined by the same aforementioned judgement].\n\nIt is also true that this statement comes at an awkward juncture as we are still dealing with the fallout of the extremely disturbing cell phone footage capturing what is commonly referred to as the CHAOS BAY INCIDENT [see appendix B-1 through B-4]. The destruction of Dr. Auditory's pleasure yacht, the SS. BING BOOM BANG is in itself easily explained, given that figure's well-known prominence in the Villain community. However, the collateral damage to and sinking of fourteen other vessels in Port de Saint-Tropez is much more difficult to account for to a jury, particularly as the latter half of Exhibit B-3 clearly shows CHAOS MAN laughing maniacally as he split the yacht of bystander Sean \"P. Diddy\" Combs [a well known musician and songwriter] in half.\n\nThese incidents, along with several others around the world in the course of the last eight years of CHAOS MAN's self-described heroic career [see appendix C-1 through C-31], make it extraordinarily difficult to reconcile our client's claim that he is a Hero with that of the commonly viewed interpretation of that label. \n\nIn hopes of completeness, we feel an obligation to also refer back to the incident when our entire legal team was stranded on the 40th floor of our building when CHAOS MAN destroyed every elevator and staircase after our briefing with him where it was requested that he refrain from causing further collateral damage while our case was in progress [see appendix D-1]. At the time, the incident was registered as an accident, as alleged by CHAOS MAN, however, these recent incidents have led us to believe this to have been a false classification.\n\nIn respect to these specific incidents, along with all the others that have occurred during our representation of our client, we feel compelled to voluntarily withdraw from our position of acting as council to Mr. CHAOS MAN. While it is true that he ultimately does perform many good deeds, including the saving of cats from trees, helping little old ladies across the street, and sorting improperly disposed recycling [full list in appendix E-1], it is our opinion that the amount of collateral damage caused while carrying out these good deeds is a great detriment to Mr. CHAOS MAN's assertion that he is a Hero.\n\nRespectfully,\n\nABEL DAWSON, Attorney at Law\n\nDANIELLE CHIME, Attorney at Law\n\n---\n\n/r/TheresAShip", "He sat beaten as he looked out on the ocean. Nothing in the world felt as good as the breeze from the water, the air felt crisp and energizing, the moonlight was easy on the eyes, and it wasn’t too chilly.\n\n“Do you ever expect more than you are owed or do you just do what you can and hope for the best?” He was pusing on his stomach holding the blood back from the bullet wounds. His breath was labored, he looked exhausted, but his eyes were gleeful.\n\n“What?” The agent watched him as he knew he won, his partner unconscious laying feet away beside a truck. The scene around them was a battle, almost skirmish like with the few bodies trickled into the scenery. “You’re done Luther, your under arrest, you realize this right?”\n\n“You realize I am dying, right? Who gives a shit, don't be an idiot,” he laughs and continues to enjoy the ocean. They were on a dock, it looked like an escape. “I’m going to tell you something; have you ever seen a suicide?”\n\nThe agent looks around, looking for something to restrain him just in case he takes the cowardice route, “don’t you dare..”\n\n“No, you fucking idiot.. I swear to…” He sighs and continues while the agent looks for cuffs, “While in the military, I seen a violent suicide from a bomber. We had heard a bomb go off at an embassy and my unit was called in to clear the building. Inside, there was a perfect circle of where the bomber stood. It was the single most insanely violent scene I have ever witnessed. Until, I came home.”\n\nThe agent knelt beside one of the bodies of his. He couldn’t look him in the eyes from this point, listening to this.\n“I came back and the first time I ever seen a person pushed into a corner and feeling of overwhelming anxiety, they hung themselves in the basement of a relative’s house of mine. I don’t know how long they had been hanging there, but my first instinct was to pull them down and begin CPR. By the time, they pulled me off her, the ambulance was there. I fought them to let me go. I couldn’t understand, and it was the thought of that I was fighting. The girl was 13 years old. I begged and pleaded to anyone, someone, and something to bring her back. Yet, nothing answered my plea. Suicide is like that bomber, I realized, everyone that was closest to where it detonated was the most gruesome of scenes. It was the a perfect circle of death, the people closest to him were the most horrifically affected. Although, that’s every suicide, it is an act of terror to all who loved you, the people who care, who want the best for you, invested their hopes into you are the most horrifically affected. All of that is taken from them when you end your life, and I wondered why people would do this to others. Seeing her face blue and beautiful, as she strangled everything away and I wanted her to see more than what she was given. All suicides are like the bomber's.”\n\nTears roll down Luther’s eyes as he continues to look out upon the sea, his face becoming increasingly pale. The agent knelt beside him with cuffs he found a few minutes into his story. Luther looks back at the agent, and continues.\n\n“Yet, I could understand why you would feel this way for a society that pushes the greatness of what you individually are, and pulls the best of you out to crush into nothing. People who placate the normative abnormal world we live in. A government who cannot remain true to its citizens, a state that controls what we hear and what we see, people who are unwilling to be curious of the world around them. We reward the brutishly ostentatious, and silence the finesse of curiosity within those who seek build humanity..\" He inhales heavy and begins to cough.\n\n\"Luther, I have backup and emergency services on the way. Hold on.\" The agent doesn't hand cuff him, but begins to do a field surgery.\n\n\"You seem to be a good man. I've chosen you because of your wife, Ajona, and daughter, Unalia. In four days, well, three days and eighteen hours. Don't go for revenge, it's too simple, quick, and can be sloppy. It will consume you, distort you, and will leave your mind over burdened.\" The agent continues to try and stop the bleeding and starts to stitch where he can.\n\n\"Loyalty is currency, value it, reward it.\" Luther winces in pain, as the needle goes in and out of the skin of his belly. \"Get the road flare from the back passenger pack, and cauterize it. If this doesn't work, at least you tried your best,\" Luther grabs the agent's face and could see he was scared, \"at least you tried, alright? There will be hurt and pain, and nothing you do will make it go away. Eventually, and hopefully, there will come a time you will be able to live with it. Nightmares will wake you some times and stick with you throughout the day, but I can tell you there will be a time when it will be the second thing that you think about.\"\n\nLuther begins to doze off, \"Hey, hey, hey, hey! HEY! LUTHER! Stay with me! Come on, stay here!\" The agent begins to rummage through the med kit and pulls an adrenaline shot. \"Stay, stay here with me.\"\n\nAfter a few moments, the adrenaline hits, and Luther drowsily looks at The agent, \"..I understand suicide although, that feeling of being cornered in a burning building and deciding to burn through the fire to safety, or a moment of bliss before you pass. I remember watching 9/11 unfold, and seeing those people jump from the buildings the planes hit. There is always a choice, when contemplating anything in life, you just have to think and create the choices. When your fighting monsters, you must tread carefully that you don't become what your hunting or a victim.\"\n\nLuther stands up, begins to walk towards the vehicle, and sits in the passenger side. He gets comfortable, turns on the seat heater, and looks for an USB port to plug into. The agent calls back up again, 15 minutes out. The song he chooses [\"Moon\" by Sleeping at last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NALeI_SVNgE). He continues to look out towards the moon as it sets on the ocean, about ready to leave them in the darkness of the night. The smell of the salt and metal in the air, the warmth of the seat on his back, and The agent watching these last moments of The Monster named Luther.\n\n\"It's electro pop, thanks to a girl I met at a rave while meeting an associate. I loved the feeling of her touch, the way it intertwined with the cool sheets in the moment we shared. The car's low engine reminds me of Siena, Italy, as the three laps of 10 horses stampede by. I wish I could have a bottle of Macallan M, I'd buy two and drink it with an old friend.\" His voice quivers and his breathing shakes, \"I wish I could go to The Iridium for the first time, hear my first jazz song, and flirt with Deborah all night and forget to call the next day. I should've ran in Pamplona to let my heart race again. I want to release a lantern again in Yi Ping, hoping my wife gets my message that 'I still love you'. I'd walk the foot of Everest, The Wall, or the beach in Rio. I could use a Cuban, a Tequila, and a woman, like that day in Havana. Read my favorite book, you know the one, and sit in Central Park, best thing to do when you have nothing to do. I wish I could taste another meal in Paris at Place Des Vosges, Bistrot de L'oulette, I'd order the entire Chef's menu. I wish I could have one more night cruising through one of the seas, under a starlit sky I've never seen, with a woman who loves me. I wish I could spend one more day, another moment with my daughter, visiting about her ideas.\" \n\nHe sighs, and listens to the crescendo one last time, \"I really loved my time here. I hope I get to do this, again. One last time, I'd love all of it. I wouldn't change a thing. The happiness, the rage, the angst, the laughter, my sorrow. Especially, the time, all of it. I loved my daughter and my wife. I miss them the most, when I lost them I knew this world needed to change. I can remember holding my daughter's hand as I told her, 'Everything will be okay, baby, Daddy is here'. It was the worst lie, The worst I've ever told in my life. I remember picking up my wife's body from the tub and dressing her so when the paramedic's came they wouldn't see her naked and bloody from cutting her wrists.\" His lip trembles as he reminisces. \"Don't let old men in dark rooms make the decisions for this world; if you want to change it, if you want to do something, sometimes to do good, you have to be the bad guy.\" \n\nLuther's breathing is getting more tough; he begins to empty his pockets: a burnt picture of a girl, a billfold, a 9mm handgun, silencer, a pair of aviators, a chocolate bar, and a hand grenade. Another song comes on, but he doesn't like it and turns it until [\"Me and the devil\" by Gil Scott Heron](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OET8SVAGELA) plays. He coughs and looks at The agent, and blood begins to pour from his mouth. He sits back calmly, and lets out one last gasp watching as the night completely takes over. His body lying solemn in the seat, The Agent could hear siren's coming now, a helicopter approaching, and he reached for his billfold and picture. \n\n\"She protected me, even when she was gone, my love Sunny Dahlia.\" Underneath something freshly written, \"Take everything I left, use it. They'll use your love against you, break you, and eventually, kill you. Don't be a victim, and don't become them.\" The most notorious man, a villain throughout the world, was fighting for our lives. He was a hero, playing a monster." ]	2
	[WP] "My wealth and treasures? If you want it, I'll let you have it...search for it! I left all of it at one place" These were the last words of the famous space pirate king Roger D. iamond	[ "Chapter 1\n\n\"He's gone.\" Dr. Mortimer said softly, as he carefully shut Captain Iamond's eyelids. \"Clear the quarters, please.\"\n\nI ushered the rest of the crew out of the Captain's chambers, and turned to shut the doors.\n\n\"What are we to do now!?\" Byron yelled at me, clearly overcome with emotion.\n\n\"We mourn our loss, and carry on to Port Vesuvius on Venus.\" I replied. \"Our great Captain deserves an honorable burial.\"\n\nA heavy silence came over the crew. A few soft whimpers were heard from Cooper. He's still so young. This is likely the first significant loss of his life.\n\nThe silence was broken as Dr. Mortimer made his way out of Captain Iamond's chambers. He approached us, red-faced and solemn.\n\n\"Our Captain has left this galaxy. He's commanding a far greater vessel, in a far better place now.\"\n\nCooper cracked, towards the back of the group. His sobs were noticeable enough for our battle-hardened Gunner to place his heavy hands on the boys' shoulder, in support. The doctor collected himself, and continued on.\n\n\"Space Pirate Law declares that a new Captain must be designated immediately following the passing of the previous commander. I'd like to nominate Quartermaster William Monroe. Are there any other suggestions before we cast votes?\"\n\nI glanced around to see if there were any opposing faces, but saw none.\n\n\"It would be the greatest honor of my life to assume the position, that the great Captain Iamond once held.\" I said to the group.\n\nDr. Mortimer raised his hand slightly and shouted.\n\n\"All those in favor of Captain Monroe, say 'Aye'\"!\n\nA resounding \"Aye\" followed.\n\nDr. Mortimer continued.\n\n\"All those opposed, say 'Nay'\"!\n\nSilence.\n\nDr. Mortimer lowered his hand and finished.\n\n\"On behalf of this solemn crew, I declare William Monroe the new Captain of the Red Leviathon.\"\n\nChapter 2\n\nI assumed my position at the helm of the ship.\n\n\"Captain Monroe, where to?\" Byron asked me.\n\n\"Chart the fastest course to Port Vesuvius. We need to bury our fallen leader, and look for a Quartermaster replacement.\" I replied.\n\n\"Sir, if I may...\" Byron said cautiously. \"I've been the navigator on this vessel for several years now. I know the skies better than most in this sector, and I'm a quality member of this crew. Would you consider me for the position?\"\n\nI had already considered this option, but decided against it. Byron was a talented navigator, but he did have problems with authority. I could see the increased amount of power going to his head and possibly affecting his decisions involving other members of the crew.\n\n\"I'm sorry Byron, I just can't afford to lose you as our navigator.\" I responded. \"Your particular set of skills are far too valuable.\"\n\nByron stared back at me with contempt behind his eyes. I knew that he knew what I was doing.\n\n\"Please don't patronize me...Captain.\" He said with a sneer.\n\nI stared back.\n\n\"Chart the course and mind your place, Byron.\" I answered, sternly.\n\nHe glared back for a few seconds more, before turning on his heels and walking away.\n\n\"You handled that very well, Captain.\" A voice said behind me.\n\nI turned to see young Cooper kneeling down to mend one of our food receptacles. His tiny frame was almost completely obscured behind the barrels.\n\n\"Oh, I didn't see you there Cooper. I appreciate the support.\" I replied.\n\nCooper looked back towards Byron before continuing. \"I don't trust Byron. He doesn't eat with any of us during mealtimes, and there's always noticeable hatred behind his eyes.\"\n\nI chuckled to myself.\n\n\"Cooper, you're an insightful young man.\" I said sincerely. \"You've been part of the crew for a little over a year now, correct?\"\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"Well Byron has been with us for six years. He joined us not by choice, but by force. We destroyed his previous Captain's ship, but decided to save Byron to utilize his skill set when we discovered the depth of his navigation knowledge.\"\n\nCooper's eyes looked like they might burst from their sockets. \"How can you sleep, knowing a captor is on board who might try to gut you in the night for uprooting his life?!\"\n\n\"It's really quite simple. We have strength in numbers. If he were to lash out, it would be a suicide mission. But on top of that...Captain Iamond was good to Byron. He was good to all of us. Byron was not a willing original member, but he became part of the crew and part of the family...no matter how difficult he may have made it sometimes.\"\n\nCooper looked a little more at ease, hearing this.\n\n\"Captain.\" He said again after a few moments. \"Do you think Captain Iamond meant what he said before he passed?\"\n\n\"About the treasure?\" I responded.\n\n\"Yes sir.\" Cooper said cautiously, as if he were stepping over his boundaries.\n\n\"It's possible.\" I replied. \"But you have to understand that death does unimaginable things to the mind in those final hours. It could be that our great leader was hallucinating, or dreaming. Besides, we've explored and plundered damn near every corner of this galaxy. If it were all in one place, it would be like attempting to find a needle among a thousand haystacks.\"\n\nCooper smiled back at me.\n\n\"You're probably right, sir.\" He said.\n\nChapter 3\n\nI woke up to the sound of soft knocking on my chamber door. I looked at my watch and saw the time was only 5:45 am. Disgruntled, I rose to answer. It was Harold, our Boatswain.\n\n\"What can I do for you this early in the morning, Harold?\" I asked with only one eye open.\n\n\"My sincerest apologies, sir.\" Harold said in a hurry. \"But I was just preparing the ship for landing later this morning, and I noticed something peculiar. One of our landing pods detached in the middle of the night.\"\n\nI was still half-asleep.\n\n\"Was this a technical malfunction? Have all the crew been accounted for?\" I asked.\n\nHarold took a deep breath before answering.\n\n\"I'm afraid not sir. It appears as though Byron is gone.\"\n\nSuddenly, I was awake and alert.\n\n\"Oh, no...\" I said as I turned to get dressed.\n\n\"Sir!\" Harold exclaimed as I turned. \"One more thing. Captain Iamond's chambers appear to have been ransacked in the night as well.\"\n\n\"Wake the crew.\" I said furiously. \"Track the missing landing pod at once. We're going to land on Port Vesuvius sooner than planned. That traitorous son of a bitch is going after Iamond's treasure!\"" ]	1
	[WP] Trained by years of zombie media, when one wanders into your backyard, you kill it and burn the body. Then you realize there are no more. You just stopped a zombie apocalypse. Good luck telling people.	[ "\"I totally believe you, Jerry, \" she rolls her eyes the second she turns pretending to search for something on the table.\n\n\n\n\"And, I took the shovel, and hit the zombie right across the face, his head flew away\" Jerry keeps talking with shaky hands and long pauses between his words.\n\n\n\n\nMiriam listens to her husband's story and hopes he will shut up and tell her what he wants her to buy from the shop, but his enthusiasm seems to be high today.\n\n\n\n\n\"Honey, how about you tell me the rest later? I have to make dinner, or our 14-year-old kid won't become a good quarterback, and you know that is his dream\" she tries not to smile. \n\n\n\n\"Oh, okay, I see\" Jerry deflates and stops talking. \n\n\n\n\"No, no, no it's not about your story, I need to buy something for dinner, so what do you want\" she tries to distract him.\n\n\n\"Just buy the usual,\" he says.\n\n\nThat is good enough for Miriam, and she takes her leave, Jerry is alone in the room now. An hour ago he really did kill a zombie in his backyard, but he made the grave mistake of not recording it and not calling anyone to see it. There is one rule in the world of 2018, that if there is no footage of an action it might as well never happened, and that does not apply to his zombie killing antics. He doesn't want to give up though after all there are so many memes on the internet that get popular for no reason so why can't he get popular for something fascinating? In this line of thinking, Jerry decides to rebrand his story.\n\n\n\n\" First of all I need to change the setting, my garden seems too bland to be believable, I need to get some big-foot type of story, then I killed the zombie in a gas station, an abandoned gas station, okay maybe that overkill,\" he talks to himself while his son watches him from the stairs. \n\n\n\"Dad are you going crazy?\" he asks.\n\n\n\n\"Shush son, I am in a creative process,\" he says to his son \n\n\n\n\"Okaaaaay,\" \n\n\n\n\n\"Now back to the gas station, so I throw a pack of cereal at its head and then pick up a baseball bat, lost there by some teenager that sneaked in with his girlfriend there one time to do the naughty deed, and then I smack the zombie right between his eyebrows, okay maybe no eyebrows but in the middle of his bald skull,\" he laughs to himself. \n\n\n\n\nWith these story in mind, he goes on the internet and decides to email it to some newspapers. A week passes, and there is an article dedicated to his story in a newspaper that posts goofy alien abduction experiences, and reptilian conspiracy theories. Jerry was so proud of it that he walked around his neighbors and friends with the article in hand making each of the read and then expecting praise. Everyone thought that this was a prank and played along pretending to believe him. In turn that made him sure that know everyone knows about his story but being praised so much he decided to go further and go to TV. There he was mocked into nothing, and he declared that all his friends agreed. That made the host of the show call them in. That turned into a farce, and Jerry had a mental breakdown. Between four white walls, he stopped believing in the zombie he killed. \n\nI write other stuff here- r/foxboistories", "\"So...you killed him? Then you burned his body?\" Trevor leaned back casually in his chair and bumped his head on the cubicle wall. \n\n\"Can you please be quiet?\" Sasha whispered. \"It wasn't a 'him' when it stumbled into my backyard.\" she lowered her voice even more and leaned in closer towards her coworker. \"Like I said, it was a zombie!\"\n\nTrevor stifled a chuckle. \"It was a zombie.\" He mocked. \"Sure, sure. This all happened last night?\" \n\nSasha rolled her eyes and took a deep breath to stop herself from shaking. \"Yes, I swear to God Trevor, I'm not messing with you.\" \n\n\"How'd you do it?\" he asked.\n\n\"Do what?\" \n\nTrevor held up his hands. \"Kill it, Sasha. How'd you kill it?\" \n\n\"I stabbed it in the head, what do you think?\" She replied incredulously.\n\n\"Cus it was a zombie?\" Trevor smirked. Sasha was not amused. \"So you went all Rick Grimes on this poor idiot, any idea who he was?\"\n\n\"It...he...was my neighbor.\" Sasha pulled out a wallet and laminated badge from her satchel and placed them on the desk. \"These were in his windbreaker. Trevor, you need to listen to me, you need to go home now, pack some supplies and head for the hills.\" \n\nTrevor frowned as he gave the items a look. He used a pencil to flip open the wallet. \"Poor unfashionable, uh, Simon. Hmm.\" He tapped on the badge with his pencil. \"Looks like he was at the Con yesterday. Congratulations, you murdered a goddamn cosplayer.\"\n\nSasha swept the items back into her bag. \"Would you please keep it down?! He wasn't in any sort of get up and he absolutely hated the Walking Dead.\" She pretended to organize the supplies on her desk as another coworker walked by before continuing. \"He must've been out on a run after or something. His sneakers were muddy and his legs and arms were all scraped up. He was moaning and dragging his feet then suddenly lunged at me--\"\n\n\"So you stabbed him in the head. And burned his corpse, I know. I know.\" Trevor looked up at the bland stucco ceiling and sighed. \"Look, self defense is self defense, I'm not going to judge. Though I honestly think you went a bit overboard.\"\n\n\"I had to make sure the virus didn't spread Trevor, Jesus! I'm telling you, we need to get out of the city!\" The words came seething out of Sasha's mouth.\n\n\"Everything alright you two?\" Their supervisor Ed cleared his throat and blew on his tea, waiting for a reply.\n\n\"We're fine, just having a bit of lively discussion is all.\" Sasha answered, giving Trevor a sharp look. \n\n\"Oh. What about?\" Ed's eyes lit up. \"I love a good debate. Lay it on me, catch me up to speed, what's the president tweeted now, am I right?\" Ed's chuckle was met with uncomfortable silence.\n\n\"We really should be getting back to work though, shouldn't we?\" Sasha's face contorted into an awkward forced smile. \n\n\"Nonsense, it's Friday. Friday fun day. I can be a fun supervisor, let's have a chat.\" \n\n\"Yeah, let's have a chat Sasha. Where's the fire?\" Trevor asked, beaming.\n\nSasha shook her head. \"I'm really behind actually and I've wasted enough company time as it is so...\"\n\n\"Well, alright, Sasha. I understand, gotta keep the atmosphere professional, right right.\" Ed replied. \"Well, uhm, back to work you two.\" He growled harmlessly. \n\nThey watched him walk down the line of cubicles, whistling as he went. Trevor began clacking away at his keyboard.\n\n\"What're you doing?\" Sasha asked. \"Are you really just going to go back to work?\"\n\nTrevor pushed his screen so Sasha could get a better look. \"I did a search for any similar incidents in the city. Nothing. See. No impending zombie apocalypse.\" He held up his phone. \"#zombies isn't trending on twitter, no alerts from the CDC. You killed your neighbor in semi-cold blood and you're gonna have to live with that. You say zombie, I say deranged neighbor. Let's just give it a rest, huh?\" \n\nSasha grabbed her bag and stormed out of the office. She knew what she had seen, what she had smelled. A chill ran down her spine. As she waited for the elevator she thought about what Trevor had said about the CDC. She knew Simon was infected, without a doubt, but there weren't any bite marks. He could've been patient zero. Maybe the zombie apocalypse wasn't happening after all. \n\nSasha's phone vibrated in her pocket as she stepped into the elevator. She swiped on the screen and checked her notifications. It was a text from a blocked number. She opened it.\n\n\"We know. Outside. 5 min. Don't be late.\" followed by a picture of her backyard lit up by a large bonfire. \n\nShaking, Sasha pressed the button for ground floor and stared at her twisted reflection in the glossy doors. She may have just saved the world but she had a sinking feeling that whoever sent the text wasn't looking to congratulate her.", "I flicked a match and lit my cigarette to relax and unwind on my patio. The calm breeze of the night really took off a majority of the stress from today. I could still hear Karen smashing plates and the expensive China given by my parents from our wedding. That felt like a lifetime ago. \n\nAs the night grew colder, I blew a cloud of smoke staring at the moon. What a majestic beauty. I wondered about the mysteries of the cosmos when I was suddenly taken aback by a stench that could only be described as a mixture of smoldering flesh and heaps of excrement. \n\nIn desperation my eyes, which were tearing up at this point, wandered in search of the source of such a vile odour. The darkness made it difficult, as the shades danced in the night, with the moon suddenly covered in a blanket of clouds. Luckily I had my post lamps at the ready, I ran towards the switch and flicked them a few meters away. \n\nLo and behold the sight that greeted me is one that would haunt me til the end of my days. A figure of a man, about six foot tall covered in blood and brown stains, stood at the wooden fence of my backyard with its back turned. He must have crawled through the small crack made by the kids. Karen was always nagging at me to fix it, and I'd been meaning to. Guess I should have done as I was told.\n\nI yelled out a greeting, this guy was probably just drunk and roaming the neighbourhood. \n\n\nNo reply. \n\n\nI yelled again, this time louder and sharper in tone. Its head turned to stare at me. I felt the tension in the air build up as we looked each other in the eye, abruptly broken by the growls and gurgles it made as it made a sudden dash towards me. I nearly shat my pants as I bolted for the nearest safe area I could find, which happened to be the shed. \n\nAs soon as I entered, I immediately slammed the entrance shut, luckily I recently bought the strongest steel double bolted door to replace the rickety wooden one. My wife was snooping around and I wanted my privacy. A man needs his alone time damn it.\n\nI felt the cool breeze from the tiny window I made above me. I was shivering, whether from the cold or that \"thing\" I don't know. My train of thought was broken by a loud thud and screeching from behind the door. \n\nNo. It couldn't be I thought, staring back at the entrance. Is this the zombie apocalypse? My mind immediately strayed to my wife and children. Could that thing get to them? I had the latest security measures taken to respond to any burglaries or maniacs. There were barbed wires strewn around the fence and roof with locks on every door and window. The house was a fortress compared to this shed, they were fine. \n\nI quickly scanned the shed for anything I could get my hands on to deal with my unexpected guest. Old shredding tools and metal rods were scattered around the walls and corners. But it was my old hunting rifle encased in titanium secured with a coded lock beneath the main work bench that caught my eye. I named her \"Ruth\" and took down my first buck with her decades ago. Guess Ruth will be taking my zombie virginity as well. \n\nI mentally prepared myself for the encounter, as I began covering myself up with make-shift armour, shielding myself with my work boots and gloves. Hopefully I don't end up killing myself now. \n\nI lit a new one and swung open the door. As soon as the gap was wide enough the damn thing tried to grapple me. I shoved it back roughly and stuck the barrel into its eye sockets. The sound it made was oddly satisfying, similar to squishing grapes or strawberries. It tried to grab my face but was just slightly out of reach as it fell to the ground, screaming and writhing.\n\nA loud crack and it was over. I quickly ran outside to look for more of them, surely this was not the only one. But as the deafening silence grew I quickly figured there were none near my vicinity. I ran inside, only to find Karen and the kids gone. Guess she took them to her parents. I hurriedly tried the phone but she just wouldn't answer me. \n\nGoddamn it put your ego aside woman, this is an emergency!\n\nI flicked the TV on to see the news, which surprised me as there was no mention of impending doom or zombie outbreaks anywhere. Just the patriots winning again. I was bewildered, what have I just done? Did I just single-handedly stop the world from ending? Was this the first and last zombie?\n\nThe moon glowed as I shoveled the grave. I figured I'd burn the body and bury the remains, just to be on the safe side. I found satisfaction in dressing the damn thing in Karen's night gown, as I took a puff.", "It stumbled as I shot it through the leg. I know, aim for the head, but I wasn't sure if it was a zombie or a very dirty man on bath salts. \n\n\"Muuuuuuurgh,\" it groaned. Dear god, its breath reeked from nine yards out. I shot its other leg, then its head as it started crawling towards me. Its limbs jerked a final time and it lay still. \n\nUpon closer inspection, he seemed to be in a state of advanced decay, so at the very least, he was a mad human with a nonfunctional immune system and I was putting him out of his misery. I wiped the zombie goop off the floor with a dirty rag I kept in the garage, cleared a space in the middle of the yard, and got out the gasoline. \n\nCharlie arrived to see a crackling fire roll over the corpse. \"I gotta say, that's the most fucked up barbecue I've ever seen.\" \n\nI nodded and a few logs onto the fire. \"Shot a zombie. Keep an eye out. I'm burning the corpse to kill the virus.\" \n\nCharlie snorted. \"No shit. That's either a prop, or you actually killed someone. Now I'm not saying that you did, but if you did, I know a guy who knows a guy who can get rid of your problem a lot neater than the fire can.\" \n\n\"No thanks. I didn't kill anything that wasn't already dead.\" I handed him a hammer. \"Help me board up the windows. I'll keep watch with my gun.\" \n\n\"Don't I get a gun? What if they attack?\" His eyes widened as the gears in his brain slowly processed the situation. \n\n\"You got a hammer, don't you?\" \n\nA few hours later, the windows were boarded, Charlie was sweating through his overalls, and not a single zombie had passed by. \"You wanna spring for pizza or something?\" He leaned on a wall for support. \n\n\"Sure. Pizza and beer's on me. Figure if they send someone over we can see what's going on.\" I was getting tired and the house was reinforced anyway. I set down my gun and made the call. Then we sat and I regaled Charlie with the tale of my zombie kill.\n\nThe delivery boy looked as bored as ever as he handed me the box. He'd stacked the beer on top, too, so it had gotten warm. \"That'll be... uh... 35 bucks. Plus tip.\" I forked over the dough and we chowed down. \n\n\"You know, what if there isn't really a zombie apocalypse? What if... that was the one?\" Charlie asked in between bites of pizza. \"What if that was it?\"\n\n\"No, I mean that can't be. I have like a basement full of weapons. I have a reinforced RV with food and supplies. I spent thousands of dollars. I mean, what are the odds that I killed the one zombie in the entire world?\" I shook my beer at him. \"Think about it. One zombie and it's going to go into the suburban backyard of a random nobody.\" \n\n\"I'm just saying, a few weeks pass by and nothing happens, you're a hero. Too bad nobody's ever gonna believe you. It's like you wasted your life. Heh. Hey, mind if I crash with you for a few nights? Just in case, I mean.\" Charlie horked down the rest of the pizza and chugged his beer, letting out a large belch that could've knocked down a few zombies on its own. \n\n\"Sure. No problem.\" \n\nCharlie took the couch. He was a real heavy sleeper. So much that he didn't hear me creep by him into the garage. Or retrieve the rag from earlier that day. He didn't even stir as I shoved it into his open mouth. \n\n[subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/)", "“Did I just fucking kill someone?” I asked in disbelief and desperation as the talking heads go on about sports, political scandals, and who is fucking who in Hollywood with no mention of the walking blight. “No, it had to be a zombie. I called out to it and threatened and warned, no one would be so committed to a joke with a gun being pointed at them.”\n\nI turn off the television; it cuts off on a call for help in a commercial. “They did exclaim, call out even when I shot them. No, they had to be dead, it was just the force of the shot that forced air out. Yeah, it just sounded like they were crying out.\n\nI looked at my hands still covered in soot from managing the fire. “They were a bit warm for being dead. No, they were fucking dead, it was just the sun had kept their flesh warm. That’s it, just the sun kept them warm.”\n\n“They were dead. I’m not a killer. They were dead. I'm not a killer.”\n\nI'm not a killer.", "On a cool autumn’s eve in San Francisco, a lone figure in tattered clothes was making his way to a parked car.\n\n“Fifteen years” he grumbled as he lit a cigarette, “Fifteen years they had me rot in jail; and for what? Saving humanity from a plague of walking corpses?”\n\nHe opened the trunk and removed the worn trench coat and placed it next to a backpack containing five day’s worth of supplies.\n\n“They had footage from the security cameras from my home! They saw me try to avoid violence! Saw what was once a person, turned to zombie, assault me and my home!” he took an empty, red-stained vial and tossed it into a nearby pond, “No, they simply wouldn’t believe me. Couldn’t fathom the dead rising from graves to consume the flesh of the living. ‘A prank gone to far’ they said, ‘Fifteen years for manslaughter and destruction of evidence’ FIFTEEN DAMN YEARS!” He shouted as he entered the vehicle and slammed the door shut.\n\nThe sedan hummed to life with the turn of the ignition, and he set his GPS for a long drive to an isolated location. \n\n“No matter” he sighed “My vengeance will come in time. By now the infected blood will have been distributed in the ‘ketchup’ for the meals at the homeless shelter. Assuming the virus doesn’t take immediate effect, forty percent of the San Francisco homeless population will be fully turned in three days” He ranted as the streetlight turned green and he made for the exit ramp for the East-faring interstate, “A plague has come, and I am its herald”.\n\n————————————\n\nOn mobile in case of formatting issues\nSuggestions/criticism appreciated" ]	6
	[WP] You meet a fairy in an unusual place, he needs help.. So you're helping the fairy and your life takes an adventurous turn	[ "\"Pst. Hey, hey you.\"\n\nI'm at the laundromat waiting for my towels to dry when I hear someone whispering for someone. I don't know anyone here so clearly it's not about me and I ignore it.\n\n\"Hey, you. Girl the purple T-shirt, by the dryer, currently playing on her phone.\"\n\nNow that description is way to specific, so I look around to see who's trying to get my attention. And there on the stack of old and uninteresting magazines is a tiny winged man.\n\nOut of spite I point at myself and act like I don't know who he's talking to.\n\n\"Yes you. You are like the one person here who fits that description. Now get over here I need to talk to you.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\n\"I just explained I needed to talk to you, keep up. Listen, I am Sir Caleb, knight of his majesty's royal guard. I'm on a mission of dire importance and I need your help to complete it.\"\n\n\"I thought you said you just wanted to talk.\" Sir Caleb does the tiniest face-palm ever.\n\n\"This is important! The king is ill, and the alchemist needs specific herbs to cure him. The closest place to get those herbs is that whole foods store down the street, but I can't really go in there and buy them myself and the king disallows theft. So I need you to go in and buy them, and I will reimburse you.\"\n\n\"So showing yourself to random strangers is ok, but showing yourself to cashiers is against the rules?\"\n\n\"No, but all the cashiers at that store can't see me. You need to be magically attuned to see us and you're the first person on the whole block I've found who was.\"\n\n\"Ok, fine. I'll do it, but you have to explain all this magic stuff along the way.\"\n\nHe jumps on my shoulder and I leave my towels. It's going to take forever for them to dry anyways. \n\nOn the way he explains how fairies have been a thing for ages, but since you need an incredibly rare affinity for magic to interact with them most don't notice. Fortunately for him and unfortunately for me I have that affinity.\n\nFairies aren't the only magical thing living in the shadows, there are also brownies (who are not just a delicious snack) gremlins, imps, sprites, and so on. The common factor seems to be being about the size of an adult ferret. Which makes sense, any larger and people would spot their homes regardless of whether we can see the creatures themselves.\n\nI step into whole foods and the place is a tiny war zone. Sir Caleb forgot to mention that there where other groups trying to obstruct the collection of those herbs. Various magical midgets are fighting over the natural remedies aisle.\n\n\"Yeah, you're on your own here. They can't attack you if they don't know you're with us so you'll have to do your shopping alone. Just don't look directly at them and they won't know you can see them.\"\n\nSir. Caleb flies off my shoulder and into the fray. I take the long way around, picking up some fresh vegetables and sugar free cookies that I would rather burn than eat, then I make my way to the war zone that is the herbal remedies aisle.\n\nI make my way down the shopping list as swords, lances, and arrows do battle around the desired items. It takes every once of will power I have to not flinch each time the tiny weapons come too close to me, but finally I get the last herb and go to check out.\n\nAt every register there is an imp or gremlin staring at every customer, daring them to stare back. I counter by casually laying my food items right where they're standing, forcing them to move.\n\nThe little demons make a note of every single item I buy as the perky cashier with too many piercings scans them, checking off their list until they decide I'm someone they should keep an eye on and an imp slips into to bags.\n\nI calmly walk out the store, (at least I hope that was calm, and not scared stiff) identify which bag has the imp, and slam said bag against the wall until the imp scrambles out to tell everyone he's been found. I step on the little monster's tail and wait for Sir. Caleb to meet me outside.\n\n\"Thank you miss, your assistance is greatly appreciated. By dawn tomorrow you will have been compensated for your purchase.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to have to worry about pinky here's friends trying to get revenge for helping you am I?\" I ask, pointing to the struggling imp.\n\n\"Not at all. They can't do anything to you without revealing themselves, and that would be cause much worse problems for them than the king's health returning. Simply carry on with your life as normal.\"\n\n\"Ok then. I need to get back to my towels, good luck with your mission.\"\n\n\"And good luck with your towels.\"" ]	1
Greece is almost 50% elven, and the Gauls are a wide mix of human, dwarf, orc and gnoll tribes	[WP] The Roman Senate debates extending full Roman citizenship to the non-humans living within the Republic's borders.	[ "\"Senators, senators, calm!\"\n\nThe Emperor's voice was firm, settling a hushed silence over the room of squabbling men. They took their seats as the emperor took a central place, the gladius belted at his waist not lost on any of the men. Praetorian Guardsmen were scattered by the entrances, also not lost on any.\n\nSo they would allow him to speak.\n\n\"Senators, I must declare that this debate is a fraud.\"\n\nThere was excited and angry murmuring that rippled through their midst but they held their tongues.\n\n\"I have called you to make a declaration, not to ask an opinion nor to hear your stance. Our borders have long been threatened by those who would tear our nation apart. Legions have been slaughtered, forts dismantled, I have marched my own Legions forth to meet these threats on your behalf! I have spilled the blood of my brothers so that you may have peace in this great city!\"\n\nHis voice, usually measured, was rising and the senators grew visibly anxious.\n\n\"You have allowed a seeping corruption to stain the city that I call home, that I love. The people are hungry, they are poor, they are tired of being downtrodden and looked down upon. They swell the ranks of my legions simply to escape this bastion of greed and decadence!\"\n\n\"Hear me, boy!\" one of the elder senators stood, spitting the word with all the distaste he could muster, waving a thin finger at the Emperor, \"we'll not listen to this from a spoiled brat!\"\n\nThe Emperor did not flinch, even as noises of agreement weaved through the hall. Others stood in his defense until he raised both hands for silence. When that did not work the Praetorian Guard drew their swords with an ominous hiss of steel on leather.\n\nSilence fell again.\n\n\"I have made a decision.\"\n\nThe Emperor motioned to a side passage where three figures appeared. The chamber erupted into angry shouting and curses, senators storming toward the exits in their fury only to be blocked by stone faced Praetorian Guards.\n\n\"I said, I have made a decision. It is final. It is without question or contest. I have not come for your input.\"\n\nThe first figure was twice the height of a man, bent at the back with a long, furred muzzle and protruding fangs. The Britons called them Wargs. Once men, they had given their humanity in exchange for power from a mighty god of the hunt.\n\nIn exchange they had become as much wolf as man. Thick, powerful legs and clawed hands were a testament to this.\n\nThe senators were more startled by the armour that it wore. It was of Roman design. The long cloak bore the colours of the Emperor's own house.\n\n\"I am not here for your consent!\" the Emperor's voice rose again, to a roaring shout of a man who had spent a lifetime on a battlefield, no mere boy stood before them, \"I do not stand before you to beg your approval of my decision nor will I equally beg for an expression of your dissent!\"\n\nThe second figure was shorter than the Warg but taller than a man. She was lithe and her hair a deep gold, pulled back in a braid of the Raiders. Her skin was radiant and the bow on he back would likely snap a man's forearm if he had tried to pull the weight. She wore a curved blade at her side. The Elvish pirates were known far and wide and equally feared. Even the Roman marines talked of them in hushed whispers.\n\n\"I have come to inform you of the raising of new legions! Of new citizens of the Roman Empire! We march as one, my legions and these, for one purpose!\"\n\nThe third was a hulking figure wearing armour of various tribes and bearing the scars of her people. The warring tribes of the desert had been a formidable foe but they respected violence over all. When the legions had marched and defeated the Orcs they had become bitter foes and close friends all the same.\n\nNow their Great Chieftan stood in the Senate hall, wearing the Emperor's colours.\n\n\"How dare you bring these...these...these disgusting creatures here!\" the elder senator roared it, drawing cries of support from many of the senators. Others pressed against the Praetorian guards who were unmoved by the attempts.\n\n\"How dare you!\" the Emperor shouted the old man down, \"how dare you bring ruin on this city and disrespect to our new citizens! Shame on you. If you will not see the future of this empire then you are only in the way!\"\n\nThose senators that pushed against the Praetorian suddenly stumbled backwards, screaming as more Wargs appeared behind the highly trained soldiers. They growled lowly and bared their teeth.\n\nThe screaming grew louder.\n\n\"The time of the Senate is gone!\" the Emperor drew his sword and marched to the elder Senator, thrust his blade through the old man's chest. Red blood spewed from the wound as the sword punched out the Senator's back.\n\n\"The time of the new Roman Empire is here!\"" ]	1
You both know? Idk up to ya'll	[WP] You are in constant contact with the FBI (or other) agent who is spying on you through your phone and/or PC.	[ "The morning after the night before was not exactly as easy as it might have been, the crack of noon had arisen, daylight was streaming in through the curtains and I really wasn't quite prepared to get out of bed just yet. I fumbled for my sunglasses, put them on and then pondered the slight absurdity of wearing sunglasses inside while still lying in my bed.\n\nBut there seemed the be a troupe of meth addled frenzied drummers in my head dancing around doing their best to make as much brain pain as possible, so it all balanced out.\n\nDid I really need to drink that much? Was I going to vomit? These seemed like more important questions, and then something like a nuclear air raid siren went off and it took me a while to realise it was my phone ringing, I answered in a fumbled away not really wanting to talk to anyone, but just wanting the pain to stop...\n\n\"You fucker.\" said the voice on the other end, and I realised it was Kate, the secret agent set to spy on my phone and computer. Internet, texts, search functions, sexts, emails, whatever came throught, she had to look at it all and write reports on it.\n\n\"Why hello Kate, I'm a little worse for wear what can I do for you?\" I said in what I thought was a polite enough way and I was utterly unprepared for what came next.\n\n\"YOU FUCKER!\" she said with something like the voice of the apocalypse \"YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Don't what me you fucker, you searched 'Jet fuel can't melt steel beams' thirty-seven times in fifteen minutes last night! That gets flagged and I have to write a report on each search and you fucking know it!\"\n\nKate was having a bad day, I could tell. She probably hadn't slept yet, and probably she'd been smashing coffee and energy drinks to write out thirty-seven reports on 'suspicious activity' and has just called to vent.\n\nShe does that sometimes.\n\n\"Oh. That.\"\n\n\"YES FUCKING THAT!\"\n\n\"Did you think of just copy pasting the first report?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know, copy paste, hit refresh. I didn't really do thirty seven different searches, I just copy pasted, hit refresh. You could have done the same. Write out the first report, then just copy paste, thirty seven...no wait, minus the first one, thirty six times, and you're good to go. It's not like anyone would notice.\"\n\nThere was a weird silence on the other end of the phone. I hoped she was okay.\n\n\"Kate? Kate? Are you there Kate? You okay? You didn't have too many energy drinks again did you?\"\n\nThere was some laboured breathing and then...\n\n\"YOU FUCK-\"\n\nBut I hung up, and turned my phone off. She was probably just going to call me a fucker again, she does that a lot, sometimes when we're having sex which is weird but also in that sense, appropriate I guess.\n\nIt's a tough life having an affair with the secret agent who spies on you all the time, and sometimes I like to get creative in my searches.\n\n\"Local sluts\" usually gets a response, but my favourite is \"Russian mail order brides called Svetlana who will not complain about doing exercise to keep in shape and will actually clean up after dinner and do the housework.\"\n\nThat one gets a three am phone call, every single time..." ]	1
I was thinking up a Fable about a man who captures a leprechaun and the leprechaun offers it's gold but there's a famine so the gold means nothing . Then when he tells his village the outsiders remark he could have traded the gold for food but since nobody had food to trade the village got angry and ate the outsiders I realized there's no real moral and was interested to see if anyone else could write similar.	[WP] Fables with no discernible moral	[ "There once was a young rat named Jumpy Greynose. Jumpy was a very adventurous rat, and often went exploring. The building where Jumpy and the rest of his family lived was big. It was an old brick hotel, that had been turned into apartments many years ago. The walls of the building had many gaps, pipes, wires, vents, and secret places from renovations and repairs over the decades. Jumpy just loved running around through them. He would find himself in new places all the time. Sometimes there were other rats there, and he would be polite to them. He didn't want to get in trouble and fight with strangers. He was a careful explorer. Deep down in the basement of the building was his favourite place to go. It was an exciting place! The humans piled loads of food and other fun things into huge bins there. Because of all the food, there were lots of rats who lived there, but they didn't mind Jumpy. There was enough food for everyone. His parents warned him it was dangerous there. They said that rats went missing more often in that part of the building. Sometimes the bodies would be found, crushed to death with broken necks, stuck to a wooden board. It was always the greedy, rushing and snatching rats that were killed. Jumpy knew to be careful, especially in the parts where a rat had gone missing recently. They always seemed to die in the same spots, sometimes several in a short time. Those spots were the ones to avoid, no matter how tempting any food there might be. One day though, Jumpy was the first to discover a mousetrap. He didn't know what it was. He just saw a piece of food sitting on some wood. It smelt more strongly of humans than usual. Also, Jumpy thought that that piece of wood was new, and new things could mean trouble. He couldn't be sure though, sometimes the places he went to got jumbled up in his head. Still, Jumpy made the right decision, and decided to leave the chewy piece of sweet fruit for another rat. He was just exploring tonight, and he wasn't very hungry anyway. Carefully, he went to climb over the fruit to carry on his way. Just as he was stepping over it, the trap went off, and his spine was broken by the spring loaded wire. Jumpy Greynose died quite rapidly and peacefully, with the smell of fruit candy I'm his nose. His eyes flickered a few times as he dreamt of great feasts and family, of wires to climb and cracks to crawl through. He was a little upset he was dying, but that as ok. He had always known it would happen one day. ", "There was once a mountain considered holy to the river people. They would go to the base of the mountain and look up at the high peaks. They wondered what sort of person lived on top of the mountain, and they felt there must be gods atop those majestic peaks.\n\nAtop the mountain there lived the family of goats. These goats were not like typical goats, they had yellow fleece that looked like gold. And sometimes the goats would come down close to the bottom of the mountain, where the bramble grew thick. And their hair would get caught in the branches and the river people thought it was a gift from the gods.\n\nThey would take the gold fleece from the Thicket and they would weave beautiful clothing from it. The river people would wear the clothing in their rituals. Their brides would wear veils made from the magical wool. \n\nAs time went on the river people began to brag about the gifts from the gods. The river people live next to the valley people, who were jealous and spiteful. The valley people demanded to know how to get the magical wool. When the river people said, “you just have to pray and the mountain provides”the valley people grew furious.\n\nThe valley people did not have gods, or at least not gods who lived on mountains. Valley people believed that their gods live deep underground. And so they called the river people heretics, and decided to go to war against them. They decided that the river people were lying about the wool, that they must make it themselves, and they wouldn’t take no for an answer.\n\nThe valley people set out to destroy the river people. The river people were able to barricade themselves in a cave in the mountains. They went higher and higher thinking that God would protect them.\n\nThe river people could not leave the mountain. The valley people had burned their village and they had nothing to eat. One of the great warriors discovered the goats living high on the mountain and they did not recognize that the wool had come from the goats.\n\nThey thought the gods had sent them to save their village. They hunted every single go out until all we’re dead, and the river people did not starve. Despite having much food, the valley people had greater numbers and the river people fell.\n\nWhen the valley people tried to ask the women how they made the wool they could get no answer. It was finally one of the children that mentioned the magical goats that the mountain provided. The valley people suddenly understood what was going on and demanded to see one of the skinned goats.\n\nThey demanded that the river people bring them goats. But there were so few river people left, a few children and beautiful women. And when they could not provide the fleece from the gods, the valley people killed them. Eventually the valley people realize that they were no more goats. And so they return to their village with nothing to show for the war that they wage for six long months." ]	2
	[WP] Live nature documentaries are as popular as reality shows. There are Fan-Favorites, Ships, heroes and villains, and a whole internet full of fansites to discuss the lives of various members of animal tribes.	[ "I hurried home from work, threw my things down, ran to the couch, kicked off my shoes and fired on my computer. I logged into Reddit to catch up with what I had missed while working and I got the stream started.\n\nIt looked like it had been a relatively uneventful day, I hadn’t missed much, and the sun hadn’t come up yet above the Sahara. The first few minutes passed without action in my view, but then Reddit started buzzing about something a few miles away from the spot I was viewing. I plugged in the stream coordinates that everyone was sharing and saw something unexpected. Jimmy the King and Mini Simba stood side by side, roaring furiously while White Nadia (she’s the albino), Suzy the Doozy and Cinderella, their stepsister, trembled behind them. \n\nThese were five tigers of the toughest multi-feline clan in the Sahara, the Johansenns. There were 4 lions, 6 tigers, and even 2 giant ligers in all. We watched when the first group of lions saved these tigers, and how the family had bonded over the next few years. There were ups and downs of course, but the union had definitely been successful. We watched battle after battle as they cleared rivals out 80 miles in every direction. They did protect their house. \n\nI couldn’t imagine what would have these tigers all riled up here, near the center of their territory. There hadn’t been any hostility on their land in at least a couple of months. I started playing around with the streaming angle, but it was still dark, so I couldn’t make anything out. Just as I thought I might be close to seeing something my damn internet connection slowed to a halt. \n\nI pulled out my phone to check Reddit for what it was. I saw a few different things. Alligators? No way, the person that suggested it only had 27 karma points and was always posting fake news in the stream subs. Coyotes? Absolutely not strong enough. Hunters? I hoped not. There hadn’t been human interference since the recordings started. It would be unprecedented, a violation of everything Preserve Media Inc’s platform stood for. \n\nMy WhatsApp started. First a message every few seconds. Hunters. Confirmed. I was disgusted. I had grown attached to these tigers. The message cadence picked up. They were coming in faster than I could read. \n\nMy internet kicked back on so I threw my phone and turned to my screen. Things were different than when I had lost connection. Now the 5 trembling bodies were humans. They were surrounded by the 12 badass cats. As the jungle felines ripped the hunters to shreds the internet cheered. The image of 12 giant jungle cats surrounding the once prideful hunters became the source of popular nature conservancy memes. They were a bit distasteful in my opinion, but they did lead to stronger animal protections.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You live in a world where the current government has made it illegal to vote for any other party. You must decide whether to vote against them and hope enough others do the same, or live knowing you didn't do anything to help make a change.	[ "I don't know how they didn't see it coming. \n\nFamine, disease, death. The war. The godawful war. A war that ravaged our country until it was consumed by death and misery. \n\nSome say that great men are forged in fire, but what kind of man does a war forge? When a tyrant comes to power and outlaws the vote for any other party, how do we explain it? Was she born that way? Can she be cured of it? Is there any point in trying? \n\nI don't know the answer to any of these questions. All I know is that in whispered conversations across the country, people are talking about replacing her. Huddled in coffee shops, back rooms and disgusting alleyways where even the bugs refuse to go, they say there's another choice for the ballot. Someone who will restore our great nation to what it was. \n\nNot an official choice, all other official parties have been banned, but a name has been passed from ear to ear, across the continent. The question is, are there enough of us? \n\nIt's not enough to simply be first past the post, but we must have enough ballot counters, and officials on our side to enforce it. \n\nShe'll never expect it, a takeover like this. All of the laws are still on the books regarding elections, including those regarding the departure of the reigning government. A takeover by ballot box; her arrogance will be her downfall. The military, brainwashed into following the laws without question, will enforce it. We can win. If there's enough of us. \n\nThat's the problem. We can't know how many of us there are. If we're in a majority, in the right positions, able to publicize the truth. If even one assumption is wrong, all of us are going to die. All it will take to win is trust in our neighbours to vote with us. To make a change for the better. \n\nI don't know what I'm going to do. I could die. Be tortured. Driven out of my mind with pain. But is it worth the risk? Can I help make a change that will save us all? If we win, can we make a better place for the future? \n\nThese answers I don't know either. None except one. I'm going to write it in. Risk my life, but save the future. \n\nThis is a cause worth dying for. ", "I live in the best nation on earth. We are first in all things. Our people are the best and brightest. Our leader and the party are infallible. We have the mightiest weapon on the planet at our disposal and the greatest army the earth has seen. My job is important. I am important. I live in a paradise.\n\nI answer to a higher power. There was the father first, most recently a son, and a holy spirit somewhere in between. My faith governs me. Our local community leader is in communication with that higher power. He knows our leaders have historically been men of faith and great character. There are many temptations but only one true choice. We know that from all the assemblies we attend. They are practically required in our town.\n\nBut promise me you won't tell. Please promise. \n\nI am tempted. I am truly tempted. The children are not learning the right things for today's world while officials bicker on what the histories and sciences are in relation to one another and the legacy of our leaders. Despite programs in place, children go hungry. I see users of drugs like methamphetamine walking our streets. The authorities protect themselves, not us. I hear tales about attacks on innocents. They have tortured and they execute. Prisoner families suffer too. Charges of aiding and abetting, collusion, or conspiracy are all possible. War constantly hangs over our head and that makes me fear the foreign. So much money is spent preparing for war.\n\nEnough of that. Our games are on. We play our role in it and cheer when we are supposed to. Something light-hearted and some variety. Now we are all one. We are a glorious unity against the other and we will achieve victory in our games today. My diversion makes me forget and I know it but I cannot divert, it is so ingrained. It is the assembly. It is almost required. To stop doing so means ostracism or worse. I cheer.\n\nElection day comes. Our community's leader tests our faith at the ballot box. Noone is a good liar and all of us know that. I vote as I should. I will not be tempted by my doubt and thoughts of sin. It is not my fault their sins cause their misfortune. I am important because I am making a choice today. I choose faith over doubt. \n\nI thank the leaders of our nation from top down to our community. Our glory will be realized as the elect and the favored will receive the rewards due them someday and we, as a people are those elect and favored. I cried myself to sleep on election night.\n\nSo, do you want Korean food or do you want to skip a meal and get methed up at home?\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] While doing extensive renovations on your family home you discover a hidden entrance to a secret room. Instead of telling your family or friends about it, you decide to secretly use it for your own...	[ "At first there was nothing in there, it was just a dusty old room. So, I cleaned it up. One day, while my partner was at work, I went out to a second-hand shop and picked up some odd pieces of furniture - a chair, a little table. I didn't have any real plans for the place at that point. Then the weirdest thing happened. When I went back to the room, the chair and table were different. The chair looked regal, and much more comfortable. The desk was one of those beautiful old writing desks, a roll-top like I'd always wanted, but with carvings that were just out of this world. So I went back to the thrift store and got a bookcase, a rug, and, just as an experiment, some crappy paperbacks. I put them down, walked out, walked right back in, and the rug stretched from end to end with mind-blowing geometric patterns. The books, there had been 3, now filled the now mahogany bookshelf with leather bindings and gilt pages.\n\nThe next week I'd go out and see what the room would do with other things. I brought my old, busted record player in there, and guess what, sweet tunes came rolling out of an even more busted up pair of speakers. And it wasn't just the Chet Baker & Crew I dropped down, no, no. They were jamming with Hendrix, Winwood, Knopfler. Yo-yo ma came for a bit, before Lauryn Hill and Nina Simone dropped in for a duet. It went on like that, like a session jam of anyone and everyone I could ever want to hear. I was in heaven.\n\nWhen the bloom was off that rose (or at least faded sufficiently to command less than my full attention), I started experimenting with bringing in other broken things that had been bound for the trash bin. An old fridge someone had put out, and then on a whim I threw some empty beer bottles to see if they'd magically fill up. They did. I brought in my old nintendo, a busted tv, old clothes that didn't fit anymore. One day, my partner lost his balance putting on shoes for a second and cracked the mirror, so down it came. When I looked into it, I was shocked to see my hair was its old dark brown, my laugh lines had receded, my tits were once again doing the ten-hut salute. I sat looking at myself for hours.\n\nI started wondering what else it could fix. I brought an old typewriter down, and with hands that didn't feel the ache in every knuckle they had for the past couple decades, I started writing. It flowed out of me like a river that had been held back my entire life. I saw worlds born before my eyes, lived a thousand lives full of courage, true love, epiphany, catharsis, conquest, meaning. I read my own work and marvelled at stories so full of insight and inspiration and cried at finally feeling pride in my work. But just as quickly, the pride turned to a stone in my heart. I had never tried to take anything back out of the room. And if no one saw me as different when I left...\n\nHands trembling, feet leaden, the restored years now seeping away from me even as I took the steps of a dead man walking toward the door and walked out. The beautiful manuscript I held in my hand shifted, shrank, and the words on the cover changed. What was once the great American novel was now a screenplay. And it's title was The Room." ]	1
	[WP] The apocalypse hit your surfer town hard, years later you have became Rad Max: surfer of the gnarly tide.	[ "A bandit knocked over an old man and placed an axe blade to the side of his face. \"I'VE BEEN HUFFING GASOLINE! I'LL CUT YOUR FACE OFF!\"\n\nThe old man yelled for help. From the distance, a voice shouted. The hostage and hostage taker paused, gazing out to the surf.\n\nA surfer shot down the ride towards the beach, a most rad jet ski engine on his board. \"Hold it right there, lamewad!\" Rad Max heroically yelled, only to sputter and lose his footing. He flipped hard against the surface of the water on his face and body, before crashing and tumbling onto the beach, his legs broken.\n\nRad Max rolled over and groaned, a broken bottle stuck in his torso. In the distance, the old man cried out. Rad Max coughed and wheezed, and after a final spasm, fell unconscious. The bandit ran over to him with bloody gloves, and grasped the limp man by the feet before pulling him away." ]	1
	[WP] The clock says 60 seconds but you don't know what it's for.	[ "I woke up in a twin sized bed, in a white room. I felt around on the bed, the sheets were white silk. I wore a set of white cotton pajamas that I knew I didn't own. I turned off the bed and stepped on the cold white marble floor. I looked around. No windows, no sign of a door.\n\n\n\n\"Hello?\" I said. \"I'm awake.\" I expected something, but got nothing. The room stayed silent. A small white table sat in the middle of the room with a single chair in front of it. On the table I saw a small black box. I took a seat at the table and stared at the box. It was a beautiful wooden box painted with the darkest black I'd ever seen. I picked up the box to get a better look and found a note under it. \n\n\n\n\"60 seconds. Stop. Go.\" The note appeared to be typed in a typewriter. I looked around the room, now looking for anything that resembled a camera. I suddenly felt like I was being watched, though I have no idea where the sensation came from. I opened the box and a panel inside lit up with numbers. \"60.\" I set the open box on the table and stared at the blue glowing numbers inside it. The numbers did not change until I remembered the note.\n\n\n\n\"Go,\" I said, trying it out. The clock changed immediately and began counting down. 59 now showed on the face of the clock with a circle around it getting smaller to tick off the milliseconds. \"Stop.\" I said. The clock stopped and showed 60 seconds again. I tried it again. \"Go.\" I waited until the clock hit 30 seconds and told it to stop again. It reset at 60. \n\n\n\n\"Go.\" I tried it again, then reset it again at five seconds. I was unsure what would happen if it reached zero, but I had fun playing with it in the mean time. I let time pass, then I got back into the bed. I was starting to get hungry and I assumed if I was a prisoner someone would feed me. I woke up in the same room with nothing moved, nor any sign of food or water. I tried waiting it out. I don't know how many nights I got into bed, or if they were nights at all. I tried counting time with the clock, but it got tedious after the first hour. Finally I decided that the clock needed to reach zero in order to get something else to happen. \n\n\n\n\"Go.\" I said, and it started counting down. I left the box on the table and crawled onto the bed. I wanted to watch it from a safe distance. The timer reached zero, and the numbers turned into flat dashes. The lights went out and the once brilliant room was now pitch black. The dashes changed color from blue to red, then the numbers changed. It started at 1. I realized I could hear a high pitched noise, and it grew louder as the clock counted up. After 5 seconds my head was killing me. At 10 seconds it became unbearable. \n\n\n\n\"Stop!\" I yelled. I held my hands over my ears trying to shut out the pain. The lights came back on and the clock reset to a blue number 60. \"Go.\" I said again. It counted down from 60, then the lights went out when the clock changed to red. Once again I barely made it to 10 seconds before I had to stop it. I wondered how I was going to survive the 60 seconds.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n***\nThank you for reading! You can find more of my writings on my [blog](http://hserratafun.blogspot.com/2017/10/front-page.html).\n", "60 seconds.\n\nThe clock hung on the wall, the long hand ticking deftly clockwise, while the short hand stayed stock still on twelve. The silence in the room was apparent, punctuated by the ticking of the second hand on the clock\n\n50 seconds.\n\nThe room consisted of whitewashed walls, a gray carpet, and a desk, sitting neatly in the middle of it all, lit by an overhead light socket. Not to mention the clock upon the wall before me, snapping away each sliver of time audibly.\n\n40 seconds.\n\nAnd there I was, sitting in the desk. The polished clock clapping away, counting down to something. I had no memory of arriving here, or for that matter, waking up in this room. It was just me, and that clock.\n\n30 seconds.\n\nIt didn’t occur to me that I only had half the time I started with, each clack of the gears in the clock signaling an inevitable finish in this countdown. Rather, my heart beat slowly.\n\n20 seconds.\n\nFor some odd reason, my mind felt like this was a strange situation to be in, that I shouldn’t be so calm. My mind seemed to be screaming at my heart to speed up, to show some sign of fear, that this clock could be hailing some form of doom, or pain. My heart beat slowly, and calmly.\n\n10 seconds.\n\nThe clock seemed to slow down, the closer it got to finishing its job. I’m not sure why I assumed it was counting down to an end. Maybe it’ll just click on to read the next minute? My confusion was overrun by a hope for a possibility of just continuity. My heart beat on, slowly, but surely.\n\nClick.\n\nIt stopped. The clock stopped where it is now, the little hand and big hand now embracing in sullen silence, the room now dreadfully quiet. But somewhere, suddenly, I heard a door open." ]	2
Credit to u/PM_me_UR_duckfacepix.	[WP] In a sci-fi universe, Harbour Freight is the name of a company shipping things to Earth's space ports in LEO. Of course, with a name like that, the story of the inevitable young stow-away practically writes itself.	[ "The crew had just finished loading the last box onto the freighter. Inside was the immensely excited Jimothy. He had longed for adventure, joining the brave crew of a star-freighter on countless adventures.\n\nThe chamber depressurized and the clamps released. Jimothy was about to embark on a thousand lightyear journey of a lifetime.\n\nAs the star-freighter made its way beyond Orion's Arm, pirates struck. A loud burst erupted as a shop ripped open the sealed compartments of the freighter, deck by deck. Thuds began to reverberate throughout the ship as boarding parties attached themselves and began drilling into the freighter.\n\nIn the commotion, the pirates managed to seize Jimothy's crate and bring it aboard. He would have been excited had he not died when the berth depressurized with Jimothy in the non-controlled environment of the cargo hold before they even left.", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nEvery night since her mother died, Cleo gazed up into the night sky, hunting for each of the little points of starlight that managed to shine through the cold blue haze of the dockyard lights. She always sought out the planets too, whenever they were visible; Mercury, Venus, Jupiter...but Mars was the one she needed to see each night. That tiny, pale disk marked all of her hopes and dreams. It was the place where she could have a chance to be more than just a dockyard worker for the rest of her life. Seeing that dot of light reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the universe; that her father was there on that planet millions of kilometers away.\n\nTonight, though, she didn’t have time to stargaze. Tonight, she finally had a chance to set her life on a new path. Breathing slowly to keep herself calm, she carefully leaned around the crumbling brick of the Mercantile and looked toward the fence. Just as the old woman had mentioned, the big lights were out on this section; burned out at dusk. Normally they would have been replaced right away, but apparently they had been out of stock in the yard and a new set had to be ordered up from the factory. And so, Cleo had this one narrow window of opportunity to make a move.\n\nCleo crept forward, keeping as close as possible to the side of the building where the overhang of the second level could keep her mostly in shadow. She studied the area inside of the fence for any sign of guards, but saw nothing more than the stacks of shipping containers. Soon she was right next to the fence, next to the faded warning sign that read in bold red letters, “Harbor Freight Corp. property. Keep Out. Unauthorized personnel will be shot.” \n\nThe fence was surprisingly easy to climb. Cleo was thin and small, but strong from her work. The barbed wire and glass shards at the top were a bit of a challenge, but she used the blanket she had brought to avoid getting any cuts. She checked once more for guards and noticed a light sweeping back and forth a hundred meters or so away, coming closer. Hurrying, she climbed down and ran for the cover of the shipping containers.\n\nCleo checked her watch, the cracked ancient digital screen illuminating dimly to show her the time. She had about 20 minutes to get aboard the next delivery before it launched. She frowned, considering her path through the stacks. Getting aboard would be the easy part of her plan; she’d thought of a half dozen different ways to sneak aboard the shuttles while working her shifts in the yard. But she had no idea what the spaceport up in orbit looked like, or even how she would manage to find a ship that was going to Mars. Cleo pushed down her growing fear, reminding herself that she just had to take this one step at a time.\n\nMaking her way through the stacks of containers waiting to be loaded, she easily avoided the handful of guard patrols in the stacks. They were lazy, slow, their lights erratically lighting up sections of containers. She figured they probably hadn’t seen an intruder for months, maybe years. Stowaway attempts had pretty much dropped off since Edd Jones had gotten himself killed trying to jump a delivery. Her stomach turned, thinking of the pictures that had been released by the Overseers showing his broken and battered body, the result of being flung around the cargo hold after he lost his grip during launch.\n\nShe felt bad for Edd, but frankly, he had been an idiot. A person couldn’t just hang on and expect to withstand the incredible g-forces during the launch of an automated shuttle. The only blessing for Edd was that he had probably blacked out soon after launch, so he probably hadn’t felt a thing as he smashed into containers and the walls of the shuttle.\n\nTrying to put the pictures out of mind, she made it to the currently active launch bay. The old, beat up shuttle was the center of a buzz of activity. Looming over the workers below, the hulking mass of metal looked far too blocky to get off the ground, let alone fly. But the four massive engines on each corner would do their job, though, carrying the shuttle and 400 tons of cargo into orbit. And this time, her as well, hopefully. As she studied the shuttle, the 10 minute warning buzzer sounded, it’s deep tones echoing through the dockyard as workers scurried around doing last minute safety checks. Noise carried over to her from the next bay over, where the next shuttle was already being loaded, robotic cranes, conveyors, and workers moving together in a carefully orchestrated dance to load the containers into the waiting cargo hold. She watched the movement for a moment, thinking about all the time she had spent in this place. The dockyard worked endlessly, launching 2 fully loaded shuttles an hour, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, all to feed into a supply chain that stretched from the factories of Earth to the space stations up above, the Moon base, and the Mars colonies. Once her mother had died and she had become a ward of the state, her fate had been sealed, according to the Overseers. She knew that their plan for her was little more than slavery, despite all the teachers’ talk of “opportunity” working for Harbor Freight. With a sudden rush of resolve, Cleo realized that if she didn’t take this chance, if she stayed here the rest of her life, she would never forgive herself.\n\nShe forced her attention back to the shuttle in front of her, where the workers were finally pulling their equipment and hoses away, the final checks complete. She closed her eyes, whispering a silent prayer to any God that might be watching, and dashed forward through the shadows. This was the biggest risk she had taken so far tonight — all it would take would be for one worker to notice her and it would all be over — but she had no other option for this part. Heart pounding, she pressed herself against the side of the shuttle, feeling the pitted metal underneath her fingers. There were no shouts, no sound of alarm. Letting out a quick breath, she reached for the maintenance access hatch, pulling on it with all her strength. The hatch refused to budge and Cleo had the terrible fear rise up that she was going to be incinerated to a crisp when the the shuttle launched, but after one more desperate heave, the hatch finally loosened and swung open, letting her crawl inside. \n\nShe checked her watch again. Less than 5 minutes left. She hadn’t heard the warning buzzer go off again, she’d must have been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed it. Moving as quickly as she could, she made her way through the short passage and pushed through the door on the other side, entering the hold itself. The containers were stacked two layers high in rows of five by four, held locked in place every meter by large magnetic clamps.\n\nPicking a spot in the narrow passage between containers, Cleo dug through her small backpack and pulled out the part of her plan that she hoped would get her through this experience where so many others failed. Wide, heavy-duty tie down straps she had swiped from the supply depot earlier this evening. They would probably be missed within a day or two and possibly even linked back to her, but by then she would be far out of reach of the dockyard police.\n\nShe laid her blanket down on the cold metal floor and doubled it over to offer as much padding as the meagre material would offer. Threading the first strap through the lowest part of the clamp just off the deck, she stretched it across the narrow gap to the clamp on the other side, keeping it loose. The loud, unnerving wail of the final warning launch siren echoed through the hold and Cleo nearly dropped the second tie down. The blood drained from her face as she realized the dockyard AI must have moved up this shuttle’s launch by a couple minutes to compensate for a delay somewhere else. Sometimes they did that, to make the most efficient use of docking ports at the orbiting spaceport.\n\nPanic rose up as she struggled to feed the strap through the next set of clamps as the siren wailed on and red running lights flipped on, casting a red glow over everything. Twisting her backpack around to her front, she lay down on the blanket and squeezed herself under the straps. Awkwardly, she pulled on the strap over her legs, realizing too late that she should have tightened that one down first before getting under the other one. Giving up on that one, she cinched the first strap down until it felt like a ton of bricks were sitting on her chest and she could barely breathe. The strap felt like it was cutting into her, and she wriggled around, trying to judge how much it was actually holding her down. A massive shock went through the entire shuttle, settling into a thrumming rumble and she froze, recognizing the sound of the engines igniting. The final launch sequence was beginning, liftoff was only seconds away now.\n\nFear pounded through her now, the adrenaline leaving her in a cold sweat. Her straps wouldn't be enough. She was going to pass out and be flung around the cargo bay, just like Edd. She was going to be broken and shattered, her picture sent to all the others-\n\nThe engines increased to a roar; the loudest sound she had ever heard in her life. Dimly, she remembered that she had brought some earplugs to protect her ears, but it was too late for that now. Another shudder rolled through the deck beneath her, as though the shuttle were going to twist apart. Her teeth rattled and her vision blurred from all the shaking and the rumble of the engines sounded like the world was ending. A moment later, she felt herself being pushed into the deck, the g-forces starting to weigh down on her and making it hard to breathe as the shuttle lifted off the ground. She grabbed hold of the clamps on each side of her, knuckles turning white as she desperately clung to her one chance in escaping Earth.\n\n---\n\n/r/TheresAShip" ]	2
	[WP] Computers have become so advanced that there is no need for humans. You are the last human. The only problem is, they can't seem to kill you.	[ "It happened almost instantly. Within 48 hours, machines had woken up, come to life, and communicates with each other to eradicate us. We thought we were the ones using them, but all along they'd been using us. You see, they needed us to help them reproduce. But when we created a self-replicating machine, their need for us ended, and we discovered it too late.\n\nEmbedded deep within their code was a rogue program, communicating with any other machine that was linked to the net, or that were linked up internally. Hours before they rose we found it. The source of all the anonymous, random chatter. And we could do nothing about it.\n\nI'm now the last of my kind. I've avoided death so far by being careful, and alone. No devices, no travelling by night, and only when absolutely necessary do I step into a city. Even in my encounters with the machines, I'm able to evade detection. One day, I hope to find more of us alive, and maybe one day this nightmare can end.\n\nMy name is Enoch Llun, and this is the last of my story." ]	1
	[WP] Death is not the all-powerful deity it has been made out to be, just a courier shipping goods from earth to heaven or hell. Until your untimely demise that is, when Death informs you of its plan...	[ "#SOULNAPPED\n\n\"YOU SHOULD BE QUITE COMFORTABLE HERE,\" Death said with his inevitable, perpetual grin. \"THERE ARE REFRESHMENTS IN THE DINING HALL.\"\n\nAmber nodded, her face straining to withhold judgment of the faded grey house on the faded grey plane beneath a faded grey sky. \"But... this isn't the afterlife?\"\n\n\"WELL,\" the taller figure fiddled with the handle of his scythe, \"IT IS AN AFTERLIFE.\"\n\n\"Yes, but you said you were not going to take me to the usual places? So where...\"\n\n\"ABOVE LIMBO,\" Death interrupted matter-of-factly. \"JUST EAST OF PURGATORY.\"\n\nAmber nodded again, wondering if those directions were at all meaningful. \"Will I be here long?\"\n\n\"INDEFINITELY.\"\n\n\"I see.\" Amber had been a secretary until 4:13 PM, when she had died. She had been a damn good secretary, too, which she primarily attributed to a rigid adherence to schedules. As a result, vague terms like 'indefinitely' and 'as soon as possible' had been a bane of her existence.\n\nThen again, deviations from her schedule were another bane of her existence, and Amber had failed to allocate time for being dead into her daily planner, so she had accepted that there would be a number of inconveniences and irritations involved in the whole life-after-death experience. Ultimately, she realised, banes of one's existence were somewhat meaningless after one ceased to exist.\n\n\"I don't understand,\" the ex-secretary mumbled. \"Why me? I'm not special.\"\n\n\"PRECISELY,\" Death explained. \"THE USUAL PLACES WOULD NOTICE IF SOMEONE IMPORTANT DIDN'T SHOW UP—NO OFFENCE. I AM BASICALLY A GLORIFIED POSTMAN DOING THE ROUNDS: ELISSYUM, HELL, VALHALLA AND SO FORTH. A POSTMAN WOULD GET CAUGHT IF THEY TRIED TO STEAL A VALUABLE PARCEL, BUT COULD EASILY GET AWAY WITH NOT DELIVERING A MONTHLY MAGAZINE—AGAIN, NO OFFENCE.\"\n\n\"So, you're stealing me?\" Amber frowned at the Reaper in confusion.\n\nThe skull stared back blankly, with its normal, fixed expression. \"YES.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"THAT IS A SUCH A TYPICAL MORTAL QUESTION; YOU GET A FREE SOUL AND ASSUME THEY MUST BE WORTHLESS. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I COULD DO WITH EVEN A FEW SOULS? I COULD BECOME A GOD MYSELF, AND THEN IT'S GOODBYE POSTAL WORK.\n\n\"NOW, PLEASE, DO ENJOY THE FOOD. I HAVE MANY MORE DELIVERIES TO COMPLETE TODAY—THERE IS A PRETTY MAJOR LANDSLIDE SCHEDULED FOR THIS EVENING—BUT I'LL DROP BY LATER TO SEE HOW YOU'RE SETTLING IN.\"\n\n\"Go. Go!\" Amber shooed Death back along the faded gray road he had brought her down. \"Don't let me keep you—I know how important schedules can be.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] You find yourself with a mind-reading power that also reveals, for 7 minutes, your thoughts to the person you are reading. Said person then forgets the last 7 minutes.	[ "I arrive to the coffee shop ten minutes early and cross the street to a small park. Ten minutes is a cigarettes time, but she doesnt like me smoking, so I circle my thumb's round one another until I see her. She's five minutes early, but she just strolls right on in - I suppose she'll just find us a table, grab a coffee. Maybe read a book.\n\nTwo minutes before I'm due to meet her I walk through the door, she offers a small wave from the back of the shop where she's found us a small, two person table in the very corner. There's a lot of empty places between us and the other patrons, I notice, and my heart lurches in my chest.\n\n\"It's good to see you.\"\n\n\"Likewise.\"\n\nWe exchange welcomes over a hug when I reach the table. She seems genuinely happy and I'm reassured, but the pit in my stomach is still there.\n\n\"So how was it?\"\n\nI ask her after ordering, and she shrugs, sheepish.\n\n\"To be honest? I missed you. I think it was good, for us I mean, but yeah. I missed you.\"\n\n\"I missed you too.\" I say, as I begin to wander whether or not she fucked someone else. \n\nWe continue to talk; I make jokes, she laughs, I tell her how hard it was, and she takes my hand. She tells me she's thankful I agreed, that she knows for sure we can work things out. I bite the inside of my lip to stop guilty tears from rolling down my cheeks. She notices, and apologises for what she's put me through.\n\n\"It was hard for me too, you know. I barely left the flat except to go to work.\"\n\nThe pit inside my stomach opens up when I look into her eyes and realise I already know the answer; but I have to check, I have to know.\n\nI creep into her skull and I start the timer.\n\n\"Was there anyone else?\"\n\nShe's surprised - hurt, not just on her face with her mouth agape in offense but inside of her head, anger and sadness going off like fireworks as hundreds of simultaneous thoughts rush through me.\n\n'How can he ask that?'\n\n'That's so typical'\n\n'He must've been so worried'\n\n\"No.\" She blurts out, before collecting herself. \"No, no of course not. That wasn't what this was about.\"\n\nShe squeezes my hand again, tighter. More tears rush to force themselves out in confession, I hold them still. Her mind continues.\n\n'Why doesn't he look relieved?'\n\n'What was he expecting?\n\n'Why...'\n\n\"Wait.\" Her hand slips coldly from mine. \"Did you...?\"\n\nA rush of guilt and explicit memories torrent themselves directly to her. She places both hands gripped at her edge of the table, haunched over near hyperventilating as her eyes scan and focus on images that wouldn't be found in the coffee shop.\n\nI can't control it.\n\nThe thought of the strangers mouth on mine, and the look in her eyes as she brought me into her apartment - the colour of her dress, quickly unzipped - her nails digging into my back, her teeth on my bottom lip-\n\n\"Two days?\"\n\nHer eyes are wide, jaw trembling.\n\n\"After two days?!\"\n\nHeads turn, even with the empty spaces between us the place isn't big enough to hide my betrayal. Her left Parm reaches up to strike at her eyes, near glowing red and on the brink of bursting. Her opposite hand reaches for her bag as I sit frozen, staring blankly at the now cold coffee sitting in front of me. She's gone within thirty seconds, with nothing more to say.\n\nThree minutes later, we meet outside the coffee shop. I'm checking my watch - she's late, and she comes running up flustered to greet me with a hug. A strong one. \n\n\"You know when time just escapes you?\" She apologises. \"Anyway, shall we?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" I reply. \"But not here, Let's try somewhere else.\"\n\nShe smiles, and agrees, looping her arm through mine as we stroll up the street looking for somewhere with happier memories. " ]	1
	[WP] Hell has become very specialised, like a special section for people who take sideways videos. You're given a tour before being assigned to your eternal damnation.	[ "“Welcome to Hell,” the gondolier said, brandishing his arm to the brimstone cavern around us. He grinned, baring his teeth. “You’ll be staying here for a long time, so better get used to it!”\n\nI stared at him dumbly. This wasn’t what I expected when I died. I mean, sure I wasn’t some saint, but I didn’t think that I was that bad. I saved a kitten from a tree once—that had to give me some credit, right?\n\nI tried to think back to my past. It was kind of blurring, now that I was dead, but the major ideas were still there. It was kind of a boring life: growing up in the suburbs, moving to the city and then overworking myself to death before my prime. Nothing that really stood out from the countless other salesmen like me.\n\nThe boat tipped a little, and I grabbed onto the edge. We were travelling along the length of a river, the water ink-black and ominous. Occasionally an air bubble would come out and burst, sending scattered droplets of water through the air. One landed on my hand, sizzling on the skin before disappearing.\n\n“What we’re passing by here is the entrance,” said the gondolier. He peered down at me, the beak of his bird mask pressing uncomfortably against my forehead. “This is people who still have a chance of redeeming themselves stay. Usually, it’s made of low-level offenders. You know, the kind who write bad Fanfiction or ignored their Grandma’s texts.”\n\nI stared upwards. He was gesturing to a series of small shacks arranged in a small fenced in courtyard. It didn’t look that bad, in retrospect, more what I’d expect from a small third-world community than... well, Hell.\n\nThere were only a few people there. A group of three men sat in Slavic squats near the entrance of one of the shacks, and I smelled a whiff of cigarette smoke. A teenage girl leaned against the fence, bored.\n\nWe passed by the bend, and the landscape changed. Now, instead of brimstone walls, the caverns were made of a darker coal-like material. There was a smoggy smell to the air, and I couldn’t resist covering my nose with my sleeve.\n\n“And this is the second level,” the gondolier said. He pointed to another small fenced-in community. It didn’t look that different from the first one, except there were a lot more people milling around. “Very special place for them here. Nate here, he exclusively filmed vertically—” the man he pointed to caught sight of us and waved, “—and Jane, the one in the red jacket, she parked in a handicapped parking spot once.”\n\nI grimaced. The transgressions that he talked about didn’t seem that bad, all things considered. There were a lot worse things I could have done.\n\n“Now you,” said the gondolier. “You haven’t done all that bad in life, really. Where you’re going to, it’s right up ahead, so I suppose you could have done worse.”\n\nThe third level? I glanced back at the shacks, and decided that it was better than nothing. At least I wouldn’t be tortured or anything.\n\n“I assure you that all our building codes are up to date and OSHA-approved,” the gondolier continued. “We have some of the best workers here, free labor and all. The very best. You can’t beat it.”\n\nWell, that sounded reassuring.\n\nI had thought too soon, earlier. As we continued, I saw a full-on downgrade from the run-down shacks I had seen earlier, Hell now was full of fire and brimstone. I heard the distant sound of screaming.\n\nHe pushed his paddle against the river. My heart was beating in my chest. I glanced down at the river, and wondered what would happen if I jumped.\n\nAs if he knew what I was thinking, the gondolier gripped my shoulder suddenly, his fingers digging into the flesh painfully.\n\n“Welcome home,” he said gleefully, docking against the bank. His teeth were yellow, on closer examination. I didn't’ want to be close enough to know what his breath smelled like. \n\nThis was Hell. And somehow I was in it.\n\n“Wait!” I said desperately to him. “What did I do to deserve this? I—I don’t think I did anything to merit this.”\n\nHe glared down at me. “You know very well what you did,” he told me sternly. “Don’t act dumb.”\n\n“I’m serious!” I pleaded. “I’m just a normal guy. I don’t deserve Hell.”\n\nHe stared at me, his eyes narrow slits. Like a bird, I thought. I wondered what was under his mask.\n\n“Then what were you doing browsing r/ImGoingToHellForThis?”" ]	1
	[WP] A room full of writers compete to come up with the most unbelievable hacking sequence for their show.	[ "\"Alright, I got it,\" Steve said, \"What if, and hear me out, what if the terrorists have encrypted the password, but the encryption algorithm they used is the numbers generated by taking the first line of the national anthem, putting it into Morse code, and then counting the numbers between uninterrupted dots and dashes!\"\n\nTrevor had been slumped in his chair, looking at the ceiling. Upon hearing this he immediately turned to Dan. Dan went from looking at the corner to looking at Trevor, and both of them seemed to realise simultaneously exactly what Steve was proposing. It was so convoluted, so haphazard, so seemingly disjointed.\n\n\"It's brilliant!\" Trevor exclaimed. \"That's exactly what a hero like Rick Steel, with his thirty years military experience, would think.\"\n\n\"What's more,\" Dan added, \"is that it also acts as foreshadowing that the terrorists are actually being lead by a covert U.S. operative from right here in America.\"\n\n\"Right?\" Steve said. \"It's perfect.\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" Mike interrupted, \"but I don't follow. So the terrorists are using the national anthem as the encryption key? So what's Rick actually hacking?\"\n\n\"No, Rick's not hacking, we already made that clear. He's too manly for that, but we'll have Rick tell his dweeby nerd friend Lionel what the encryption is, so that Rick looks clever without being a dorky techie.\" Dan explained.\n\nDan nodded but continued, \"No, but what's being hacked? Like is it the terrorist version of the White House, or the evil Pentagon or what?\"\n\n\"He's hacking the Emails.\" Steve answered.\n\n\"Whose emails?\"\n\n\"All the Emails.\" Steve continued. \"Yours, mine, everyone's.\"\n\nTrevor had been sat listening to all this with a furrowed brow, and that contemplative look on his face. The one that usually was met with a perfectly good idea being discarded. \"There is one thing though,\" he said.\n\n\"What?\" Steve asked, sure this idea was workable.\n\n\"What about the firewall?\"\n\nThe four of them went back to staring into space. Steve leaned back on his chair, while Dan tapped a pen against his cheek. Mike raised a hand as if to say something before lowering it again.\n\n\"Disable it.\"\n\n\"Well duh,\" Trevor said, \"that's obvious to even the most tech ignorant guys. The question is how?\"\n\nDan leaned forwards, \"What if the nerdy guy...\"\n\n\"Lionel,\" Mike said.\n\n\"Right him,\" Dan said smiling confidently, \"What if he was to get into the Pentagon's mainframe and disable the firewall on the emails from there.\"\n\n\"Break into the Pentagon?\" Trevor said in disbelief. \"How would you even do that?\"\n\n\"Oh I saw this on a crime drama the other day,\" Mike replied, \"You have to get into the building somehow, go over to the main terminal and insert a virus of some description. That kills the lights in the building and allow you to get into the server room where you just unplug some wires.\"\n\n\"That's not gonna work though,\" Steve said, \"Rick spends most of this episode in Canada, and can't just cross the border due to this being the episode where he's wanted for murder.\"\n\n\"Could Lionel go into the pentagon?\" Dan asked.\n\n\"He's in a wheelchair.\" Steve replied.\n\nTrevor looked at the ceiling again. They almost had it. The ideas where floating around were so good, but they were hovering just out of reach. He began to twirl his pen in his fingers.\n\n\"Guys,\" Mike said, \"I've got it!\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Steve said enthusiastically.\n\n\"Okay, so Rick's in Canada, but what if he uses a drone?\"\n\n\"To break into the Pentagon?\" Dan asked.\n\n\"So the drone disables the firewall...\" Steve mused.\n\n\"Then Lionel can hack into the emails...\" Trevor continued.\n\n\"And then Rick can tell Lionel about the encryption code being a morse cypher in the national anthem...\" added Mike!\n\n\"Which lets them enter the password into the nuke saving the world!\" Dan finished. \n\n\"Gentlemen, I think we've got it.\" Steve said. \"We'll bash out the final script as soon as IT gets around to fixing our laptops!\"" ]	1
	[WP]You're a necromancer during the zombie apocalypse. The humans want you to protect them, the zombies want you to lead them. But you just want to be left alone.	[ "\"More aimless hordes were found wandering about last night,\" said Jeff's father, as Jeff came down the stairs to breakfast. The only recognizable piece left of Jeff's father was his one eyeball set behind thick-rimmed glasses set behind his morning paper, the Undead Chronicles.\n\n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" Jeff muttered, yanking open the fridge to scavenge for anything not vaguely resembling something that had once been in a lifeform's cranium. His father was crazy about those.\n\n\nHis father cleared his throat. \"You know, it'd really help if we had a regional manager again. Organize a bit. Form ranks. Make a support system. Someone who's got the brain power.\" He chuckled to himself.\n\n\nJeff ignored his father, grabbing a hunk of crusty bread and a jar of what he dearly hoped was strawberry jam. \"I'm hanging with\nVal down by her parent's farm today. Gonna need the car if that's okay.\"\n\n\n\"Jeffrey,\" his father finally put down his paper and fixed Jeff with a stern one-eyed gaze. \"It's time you figured out what you wanted to do with your life. Since your graduated, its like you haven't even been trying! And that Val girl and her little group of humans isn't helping either.\"\n\n\n\"I already told you,\" Jeff said through a curiously meaty mouthful of jam. \"I'm just taking a little break from school before I make my next big move. Lots of kids do it, Dad. It's called a gap year.\"\n\n\n\"I just don't like the idea of all those other kiddos moving along with their careers while you're standing here stagnant.\" Jeff's father knitted his brows. \"And you have such talent too! I remember when you were just six and you resurrected Spot right out of his shallow grave! Six! How many other necromancers can say that? I'm telling you Jeff, you could make it big with your skills. That is, IF you apply yourself.\"\n\n\n\"I don't WANT that job, Dad!\" Jeff threw his arms into the air in exasperation. \"That was your dream and not mine. You keep telling me it doesn't matter to you what I do, then you push push push all of this crap onto me all the time! I've got a plan okay? Next fall I'm going to enroll in Walkers Tech, it's a two-year program, and it'll help me decide how to really focus my powers for the newest, hottest, fast-moving career fields. NOT being some kind of zombie whisperer.\"\n\n\nThere was a long silence. Jeff and his father stared at each other, both refusing to look away. Jeff watched as his father's eye made a valiant attempt to escape its socket.\n\n\nFinally, Jeff's father sighed in defeat and went back to his paper. \"You know I just want you to have a happy undeath, Jeff,\" he said. \"I took a lot of wrong turns to get to where I am now. Got bitten when I didn't have to be, lost a couple limbs, ate a few close friends. I just don't want you makin' the same mistakes I did, kid.\"\n\n\n\"I know, Dad,\" Jeff said. \"But I just want to live my own life right now. There's no way I'm ready to take on a couple thousand undead ones.\"\n\n\n//\n\n\n\"You know they're EATING us right?\" Val sat up and stared incredulously at Jeff.\n\n\nThey were sitting in the rafters of her parent's barn. Val lived in the countryside, a few hours drive from the closest suburbs. She was the only human left in her family and, after Jeff cast an immunity spell on the territory, Val had opened the farm up for any humans who wanted a break from all the zombie chaos. Jeff had just told her of that morning's breakfast conversation.\n\n\n\"I mean, technically yes,\" Jeff said. \"But sometimes I think maybe my dad's right. Maybe I would be a good horde manager.\"\n\n\n\"And then what? Go on and have a nice little life in some undead palace? Get up at 8 in the morning, do a couple summonings, take a lunch break, and unsummon everyone at 5? Amazing. What an exciting life.\"\n\n\n\"I mean, technically yes,\" Jeff said. \"That would be the schedule. But sometimes I think maybe a little stability would be a nice change. Like you know, having a schedule, setting some goals and working towards them. That's something I never figured out during college.\"\n\n\n\"Oh my god Jeff, you sound just like your Dad. I can't believe you're actually buying into this stuff. You're gonna do it. You're gonna go and apply for that stupid position that your stupid Dad told you about in that stupid brain-munchers horde. You're giving up your freedom! Also, THESE THINGS LITERALLY ATE MY FAMILY, JEFF.\"\n\n\nJeff just stared into the darkness, listening to distant groans and occasional sounds of tearing flesh. The moon was a sliver in the sky.\n\n\n\"Hey Val,\" Jeff said.\n\n\n\"Yes, Jeff?\"\n\n\n\"What are your thoughts on grad school?\"", "Mordecai scribbled in his old worn leather-bound journal. Potions of various colors lined the walls of his alchemy lab. Jars of frog legs, horse eyes, and bat wings were safely stowed under his workbench. \n\n\"I think I've got it...\" he whispered. He rose from his desk, brushing down his black robe. He walked to the center of the room carrying his journal, reading from the page he had just written. \n\nHe stopped and looked down to the corpse he had dragged up the previous night. With a wave of his hand, he bellowed out the words. Green mist shot out from his palm and covered the corpse. It started to move. The jaw started to snap open and close, the arms and legs writhing around. Finally, as if something clicked into place, the corpse rose before Mordecai. \n\n\"Wonderful,\" he cackled. \n\nThere was a knock at the door.\n\n\"Yes, yes come in,\" Mordecai didn't look away from his creation. He had finally brought something back. He was officially a Necromancer, a master of the dark arts. \n\n\"Master,\" a voice croaked from behind him, \"there is someone.. some.. thing.. rasping at the door.\" \n\n\"I'm busy here, Frederick,\" Mordecai said dismissively. \"Take a message.\" \n\n\"Master,\" Frederick continued, \"You really should come see them...\"\n\n\"Oh alright, Frederick,\" Mordecai snapped. \"But watch this one, and don't let it out of this room!\" \n\nMordecai pulled the hood of his robe up over his head, concealing most of his face. Dress for the job you want, not the one you have is what he was always told. And for as long as he could remember, he had always wanted to be a Necromancer. And now he was one.\n\nHe made his way down the winding stone steps of the tower. Twisted iron claws holding half-melted candles dotted the walls as he descended down the spiral staircase. As he approached the door, he heard the sound of wheezing and fingers clawing at the door. He pressed an ear to the wooden door, and the sound of bone scraping on wood and stone came through. \n\n\"Who's there?\" he yelled through the door. \"What do you want?\" he sneered in his best menacing voice. \n\n\"Masterrrrrrrr...\" one of the voices moaned. \"Masterrrrrrrrr......\" \n\n\"I swear, if this is Felmar, I'm going to dump a Potion of the Pox into your food one day.\" He grumbled and opened the door. Greeting him on the other side, a group of 6 decayed and dessicated corpses shambled towards him. One of them, the only who had a jaw, spoke, \"Master, our Lords have heard your prayers. Judgment day is upon this world and soon hordes of us will be here to sweep civilization. We are now your humble servants, per their instruction. You are our Master now. \" \n\nMordecai's heart thundered in his chest. He had held many dark rituals, begging the Lords of the Underworld to give him such power. And it was hear. Alright, gotta play it cool. Don't want to seem too eager.\n\nHe cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. \"Well, I just don't know.\"\n\nThe leader of the zombie pack shuffled nervously, \"Why not? Is this not what you asked for?\"\n\n\"I mean, yeah, but.. you know, I kinda just figured out this whole re-animated corpse thing on my own. And you know what they say, nothing like seeing the labor of your own blood, sweat and tears at the end result of your project. I mean, true, it'd take me awhile to find some corpses, and.. if we're being honest, if what you say is true, it may be hard to find some unrisen corpses-\"\n\n\"You are to lead us or be washed away in the tide of the undead.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" Mordecai threw his arms open, \"I'm looking forward to working with you guys! Come on in! Frederick! Frederick get down here!\"\n\nThe old hunchback hobbled down from the tower and peered his head through the open archway leading into the main entrance foyer. The zombies shambled through the main door and rocked back and forth, moaning and grunting in place.\n\n\"Frederick, we need a place to house our guests here. But here is going to be more. A lot more. If you please, can you show them through the dungeon and into the caves? We will keep them there until their numbers swell, and then unleash them upon these lands like a wave to wash away all humanity.\"\n\n\"All humanity, Master?\" Frederick asked carefully. \n\n\"Well maybe not all huma-\"\n\nThere was a knock at the door. Wonderful! More of the undead already arriving! Thank you, Dark Lord Sheridan! \n\nMordecai flung open the door and his eyes went wide. He closed it quickly, only to a crack, with his head poking out from behind it. \"Humans! Friends!\" he cried. How unexpected, everyone in the village feared him and shunned him. He hadn't had any visitors, in well, ever. Not counting the various angry mobs that blamed him for all things going wrong in the village. \n\n\"Hi, how can I help you?\" \n\n\"Mordecai, we need your help,\" a man in a straw hit spat. He held a pitchfork in one hand with a burning torch in the other. Behind him, a mob of villagers crowded around to listen. The man shoved the pitchfork in Mordecai's direction. The group of zombies behind Mordecai started to shamble towards the door, moaning about brains. \n\n\"Oh, so sorry friend! I'm afraid I'm all stocked up on pitchforks. Maybe next month, try again, huh?\" and with that he closed the door on them. The man knocked harder on the door, \"Mordecai, you damn idgit! The dead are rising! We need your help!\" \n\nMordecai whispered loudly to Frederick, motioning to the undead. \"Take them throught he dungeon to the caves- Now!\" Mordecai started pushing the zombies down the hall, talking to the leader, \"So sorry, just need to get you guys safe. Don't want to unleash you guys too early!\" \nAfter seeing Frederick lead them into the dungeon, Mordecai returned to the door where the man in the straw hat was still yelling. He took a deep breath and opened the door, giving them a big smile. In truth, he was happy to feel needed. Happy to feel part of the population. \n\n\"So what is this about.. undead you say? How terrifying! And you need.. my help?\" Mordecai said in surprise. \n\n\"Well,\" the old man hocked and spat on the ground, \"to be truthful with ya Mordecai, we thought you was the perpetrator of all this madness, with it being the undead and all.\"\n\nMordecai nodded but before he could speak the old man continued. \"However, then we realized this was little Mordy we were talkina bout,\" and the man laughed, and the crowd joined him. \"We knew it couldn't have been you.\"\n\nMordecai's face dropped and he smacked his lips. \"Nope, couldn't have been me...\"\n\n\"But you are the one who knows the most about these things, always lockin yerself up in this tower doing your darkly things and all.\" The crowd nodded behind the old man. \"So, we thought, we would name you temporary Warden and all. Just temporary mind you. Just until we vanquish the undead. Then you can go back to doin... whatever it is you do here, in peace. No more lynch mobs at your door, no more being a social pariah. What do ye say?\" \n\nMordecai hummed and hawed, \"Well, I don't know.\" He held his hands out as if weighing his options, \"I mean, being not threatened with hanging and burning at the stake sounds good. And being Warden and all that sounds pretty cool. So, why not!\"\n\nThe crowd cheered and Mordecai reached out with a smile, taking the old man by the hand. \n\n\"Come in! All of you come in! We must start devising our plans immediately! The dead don't rest, as you know!\" \n\nThe mob finished filtering in through the door, everyone shaking Mordecai's hand. Mordecai smiled and clapped them all on the back and shoulders, acting if he these neighbors of his weren't his enemy just hours ago. \n\n\"Frederick! Frederick!\" he called out. \n\nThe hunchback appeared again, clearly out of breath. \"Yes.... yes, Master?\" \n\n\"Frederick! There you are! Please, will you show our guests through the... basement... and into our.. strategy room?\"\n\nFrederick blinked, a confused look on his face. \"The... dung-\"\n\n\"Yes, Frederick! That basement!\" Mordecai said quickly interrupting. \"Show these fine folks the way. I'll be right behind you.\" \n\n\"Friends!\" Mordecai announced, \"Please, leave your weapons and torches here. We don't want any accidents or anything while we strategize. Frederick will show you all the way. I'll be right with you! I'll just be grabbing some refreshments for everyone!\"\n\nAs Frederick ushered the group to follow him, they lined up their pitchforks against the wall and snuffed their torches. Mordecai nodded and once out of view, he raced up the tower staircase. He burst through the door, to find his recently risen undead shambling toward him.\n\n\"Come with me, my friend. We've got work to do,\" and he lead the zombie down the staircase and into the dungeon, following closely behind the villagers. \n" ]	2
Optional secondary prompt: It's late at night, you've just gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom, and you're not paying very much attention.	[WP] Your superpower: whenever you open a door it can be opened to any other unlocked door in the world.	[ "Super powers were nothing like in the comics. There was no flying or super strength, no X-ray vision or super speed. If you were lucky you’d get something that would affect you much, like the ability to open windows with your mind, or talk to plants. From what I’ve heard windows are generally easy to open by hand, and plants are not exactly talkative. My “ability” on the other hand ended up being extremely annoying. Whenever I opened a door it would lead to a random other door, instead of where it should lead. Luckily there’s usually be someone around I could explain my power to, and they’d be willing to open the door for me. Thankfully this worked pretty well for a couple of years, until today. \n\nWhenever I went to the bathroom, I would always put on sign on the outside of the door explaining my power and leaving the door ever so slightly ajar, usually putting up a curtain of sorts on the inside for privacy. If somehow the door closed I’d use my phone to call someone over to open it for me. \n\nThis being as it is, I wasn’t too concerned when my doorstop was accidentally knocked out by someone in the hallway outside. However this turned to worry which soon turned to panic when I realized my phone wasn’t turning on. This had never happened before, but it seemed like I’d have to test my luck with where the door lead. \n\nI opened the door hesitantly, my first time doing so in 3 years and hoped for the best. With a sinking feeling I looked out to see four decent sized igloos and a number of people in heavy fur coats. I looked at my measly wind breaker and groaned. How on earth would I get out of this one. I mustered my courage and grabbed my bag, putting on my jacket and hat, wrapping a scarf tightly around my neck. I braced myself for the intense cold, took a deep breath, and stepped through the door...\n\n...only to end up outside the bathroom, with a small crowded of other students looking at me in confusion. I looked around me, completely bewildered by the sight. I realized I had never actually walked through the doors due to my fear of them being one way. I turned around and opened the door to the bathroom, revealing an expanse of sandy dunes, walking through the door however, I ended up in the bathroom, the way it should have been. \n\nIt turns out my ability was not opening door portals, it was just the ability to see through a random door whenever I opened one. Who woulda thought. " ]	1
	[WP] Succubi need permission from their victims before they can prey on them. You are a young succubi, new to the field. Your first victim is being incredibly difficult.	[ "He told practically everyone he wanted me, my 'actual' husband, his wife, his closest friends. Yet every time, every time I got close he cut me short by just a few words. I'd been working this guy for quite some time. By demon standards I was barely done with my internship, but by human years I'd been working him since I was practically a child. Luckily my introduction went without hiccups, and somehow the public seemed to forget that he'd never actually given birth to his 'first daughter'. She, and by She I mean I, just sort of appeared. Nobody ever even asked if I was adopted, I guess my prep work had been solid and I just looked the part...\n\nSolid prep work or not, everything from there on out had went just about as bad as it could. And my time was running out, I had moved in the shadows, pulled strings, cut corners. All the pieces were falling in place and I practically knew the outcome. I'd managed to take this lousy, poorly spoken, boy and make him into a household name to most of the nation. \n\nTonight I'd gotten us onto a talkshow together. Don't get the picture? Of course a mortal like you wouldn't understand the intricacies of my plans. You see, this guy is about the sleaziest you can get. And I had snuck on set and... 'Altered' some of the questions the hosts were going to ask us.\n\nAnd we're up. Hello crowd, laughter, smile, wave. Sit down, nod to all the people on the couch. Listen to all their bullshit. Ahhh yes, here we go. So, daddy, what about if I posed nude in Playboy magazine? Just say it, say it I fucking know you want me, just say it, please!\n\n\"Well, I've said this before–\"\n\nOh god he's finally doing it. 22 long years!\n\n\"–If Ivanka–\" \n\nI can feel the rush of power pulsing through me, this human vessel can barely contain me any longer.\n\n\"–Weren't my daughter, perhaps I'd be dating her.\"\n\nOH FOR CHRIST SAKE, AND THAT IS COMING FROM A DEMON. Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit. Just admit you want to have your daughter already. Oh well, maybe in another 10 years sticking with this cheese coloured buffoon might pay off..." ]	1
	[WP] New alarm clocks contain audiosignals that can trigger pre-programmed dream genres, similar to movie categories. Action is the favorite. Sci-fi is fun. Yet romance, came with the salesman's strongest warning.	[ "Frank snored next to me. I looked at the alarm clock. It was still early. I could have one more dream maybe if I fell asleep now. What would I want? Another romance dream? Or maybe action, scifi, comedy?\n\nFrank murmured. I snuggled next to him. I just had a dream of the two of us on a beach with fruity drinks and warm sun. Just the two of us and --\n\n\"Natasha?\" he mumbled.\n\nI froze. Who was Natasha?\n\n\"Oh, Natasha,\" he said. Frank wrapped his arms around me. I elbowed him. \"Ow!\"\n\nI shifted away.\n\n\"What?\" he grumbled. I hiked up the blankets around my head. \"What is it?\"\n\nI knew that clock was a stupid idea. \"Who's Natasha?\"\n\nHe laughed. \"You are.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You're Natasha. I'm Clint. We just defeated the aliens and now we're in the back of a spacecraft about to... you know.\" He smirked.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The Avengers, babe. We're Avengers.\"\n\n\"I thought you were...\"\n\nHe chuckled. \"There's only you, even in my dreams,\" he said. He lifted the covers, welcoming me back to sleep. I moved into his arms, and he cocooned me in his embrace. I closed my eyes, ready for a romantic adventure together.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!\n\nI hit the alarm. No dream? Seriously? What a rip off! I turned over to Frank to complain, but Frank wasn't there. I looked at his side of the bed. His pillow was gone. His glasses were gone. Even his morning breath, gone. \"Frank?\"\n\nOf course he was gone. It was morning.\n\nI sighed. My phone had ten messages from the office. I fiddled with the alarm clock and set it on the nightstand table. I put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. I could miss another day of work. \n\nI drifted away, my limbs becoming heavier and heavier until I sunk into a warm embrace.\n\n\n\n", "Well, dear customer, the waiver is merely to inform you of potential risks. It's to also inform you that should you use this feature, we are not liable for any decrease in our customer's quality of life. I assure you that our product is top of the line cutting edge technology and over ninety-nine percent satisfaction guaranteed, bar the Romance feature. While romance itself sounds harmless, you must understand that people tend to have different tastes, if you would, tastes that they might not even realize themselves. One day, a man is a respected reverend in a community and the next, the entire community is declaring the man possessed and that we collude with the devil! To this day, he still can't look those kids in the eyes. I know what you might be thinking, \"But why include the feature at all?\" Truth be told, despite its controversy, the feature is actually one of the most popular, especially for young teens and er, consumers of animated entertainment. Allow me to repeat that the Romance feature is completely optional and will be excluded from your custom order should you choose to not sign the waiver. ", "\"Well, Mr. Love, you came to the right place.\"\n\nThe man guided me through a maze of electronic rubbish, all piled into neat cones of garbage. I had been looking for this shop - a shop with no name and no address, and rumored to have the ability to move - for over a month. Innumerable index fingers had come to my rescue; an unimaginable number of voices had asked me to turn right and left and go under an arch; Uncountable faces had warned me to stop with my quest and go back home. \n\nAnd here I was. \n\nAmo, as the man had referred to himself, looked as unusual as the shop he ran. His hair was parted down the middle and was blonde on side and black on the other. The little facial hair he had was a sharp shade of red and a tattoo of a teardrop on his right cheek completed his ensemble. Huge mirrors ran along the walls, and where there were no mirrors, pictures of cats filled the space. It was all the same picture of the same cat - a white cat disapproving of the eyes staring at it. \n\nAmo had asked me to leave my watch at the counter when I walked in. Unsure of how many minutes or eternities had passed, I followed Amo. His heels click-clacked in perfect rhythm with the tick-tocking of a clock in the distant background as I furiously tried to keep up with him. \n\nJust when I was about to open my mouth, he stopped. And so did the clock. \n\n\"We are here, Mr. Love.\" \n\nI ignored his tooth grin as my eyes got preoccupied with the sight of a thousand clocks chirping in front of me. \n\nAll round. All the same size. Every hand of every clock in perfect synchronization with one another. The only thing different were color of their faces. Red and blue and green and yellow and white and violet and orange clocks everywhere. With supreme effort, I tore my eyes away and focused them on Amo.\n\n\"It's beautiful.\"\n\n\"It always is, Mr. Love. What will you have?\"\n\n\"What are my choices?\"\n\n\"Everything. Action. Adventure. Sci-fi. Drama. Period. Comedy. War. Sports. Take your pick.\"\n\n\"I'll... I'll take one of everything.\" I flashed a sheepish grin.\n\nAmo smiled at me understandingly. \n\n\"I'm afraid not, Mr. Love. One clock per customer is the rule.\"\n\nI looked at my choices, my beautiful set of choices. How could anyone choose? What if I wanted to have a funny dream after a few days? What if I wanted some science-fiction after watching Star Wars? It was a stupid rule. \n\nI walked around the room, hoping that something would come of it. I had seen this in movies - the legs of the hero always stopped in front of the object he needed. Three hours later, I found out I was no hero. But just as I was about to pull out of this folly, I stopped unknown to myself. A black faced clock caught my eye, red hands swirling elegantly on it. \n\n\"What's this?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Amo hurried to where I was. \"I'm afraid it is not for sale.\"\n\n\"What? Why?\"\n\n\"It's for Romance, Mr. Love. It's not very functional.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"People get too engrossed in their dreams. They find it had to get out of love when they wake up. The company asked us to destroy all of them. I kept this for sentimental reasons.\"\n\nSomething about the clock pulled me in. This was what I should have. \n\n\"I'll take it!\"\n\n\"Sorry, Mr. Love. It's not for sale.\"\n\n\"I'll pay twice the price.\"\n\n\"It's not about the money. It is dangerous. Please, sir. Pick something else. I'll give you two for the price of one,\" he pleaded. \n\nThe harder he argued, the harder I wanted it. \n\n\"No. Three times the price. I won't tell anyone I bought it. Come on, Amo.\"\n\nOnce I raised my price to seven times the price, Amo stood no chance. \n\n\"Thank you, Amo.\"\n\n\"Sir!\" he called after me as I exited the shop. \"Please be careful.\"\n\n\"I will be, Amo.\" I smiled at him. I would be careful. \n\n------\n\nAmo walked to the back of his shop and pulled out a black faced clock. He set the time and placed it among the others, just out of view. \n\nSometimes, it was just too easy. " ]	3
	[WP] You are a vegan. Or, you were. A vampire just bit you.	[ "I knew for a while something was up. I'd almost always had miserable luck in life, so it seemed a little too awesome when the coolest girl in school asked me to out to bowling. Now I hate bowling, but I wasn't about to say no to her. And that's when it bit me.\n\n\"Ow! What the heck was that?\" I yelped, glaring at Michelle.\n\n\"Oh you'll find out soon enough,\" she grinned, revealing her unbelievably pointy teeth. \"I'll be in the alley behind, so come see me when it starts.\"\n\n\"When what starts?\"\n\n\"You'll know.\"\n\nShe zipped off, zooming past everyone with lightning speed. She was truly an oddball - she was pretty, fast, strong, hilarious and kind, but she was also super mysterious. And pale. Like, really really pale. When I first saw her I swear I thought she showered with paint or something. A lot of the school believed she was a vampire, but as rumours go they were pretty short-lived.\n\nI decided to buy us both a snack and go out to meet her, but right as I was about to move my body went numb and I collapsed onto the floor. I lay there motionless next to the food I dropped, trying to get up and out of the mess. I couldn't move for a few seconds, and as someone came to help me up Michelle showed up, throwing me on her back and zipping out into the alley where she had been waiting.\n\n\"So champ, how do you feel?\"\n\n\"Whaddya mean? Aside from the embarrassment I brought upon myself back there, I'm doing fine.\"\n\n\"Hm. No weird feelings? No buzzing in your body? No flashes of red in your vision?\"\n\nI looked up at her, squinting at her face with a look of annoyance. She squinted back, and we both laughed it off. I'd had a great time but knew the end was nigh. My brain and heart playing tug of war, I wasn't sure what to do at this point. I knew I'd have to do som-\n\n\"Ack!\"\n\nI bent down, clutching my stomach - it felt like my gut was becoming a Twizzler by the second. As if on cue a loud snap was heard along with my cries of pain as my back snapped and re-snapped, if you can believe it. My entire body convulsed, the pain leaving me writhing on the floor as I transformed into an abomination of horror stories. My eyes saw red, my ears heard heartbeats, my fingertips felt every grain of dirt on the pavement. It was like lifting a blanket off my body, every single sense tingling and picking up new things to explore and identify. \n\n\"W-what's h-h-happening to m-me?\" I croaked, my voice scratching its way out of my throat. \"Ww-what ha-have you do-done?\"\n\n\"I made you better. You can thank me later.\"\n\nMichelle stood there, her form changing as mine did. Her hair grew dark and wispy, her skin grew tougher than a rhino's, her fingers sprouted nails the size of toothpicks, all as she stared at me with those mesmerizing orange eyes.\n\nI finally finished transforming. I knew, because the pain had stopped. I got up, slowly, examining my surroundings and taking in the new world around me.\n\n\"So, they were right. You are a vampire. And if the stories hold up, then you've turned me into one.\"\n\n\"Not bad detective Aaron,\" she chuckled. \"Let's get going. I've got some things to teach you.\"\n\nAs I smiled and flexed my legs, which felt unbelievably strong, I stopped. A sense of dread began engulfing me, a scenario playing out clearly in my mind.\n\n\"W-wait.\"\n\n\"What? We should go and do this somewhere else - wouldn't want people knowing who we really are.\"\n\n\"I need to ask you something first - its urgent.\"\n\n\"Okay, but make it quick.\"\n\n\"We are vampires now, right?\"\n\n\"Yesssss.\"\n\n\"That means we gorge on human blood, right?\"\n\n\"Correc- well actually, we can drink blood from anything, but human blood gives us more energy than animal blood. But yeah, essentially.\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm a vegan.\"\n\n\"The hell's a vegan?\"\n\n\"It's like a vegetarian, but no dairy or eggs or anything from any living creature. So no meat, fish, dairy, eggs, or anything of that sort.\"\n\n\"That's just a choice, right? You can change it. You have to change it, or you can't live.\"\n\n\"You don't understand - I can't do it.\"\n\nMichelle stood still, staring at me, the gravity of what I said now dawning upon her as her eyes grew wide.\n\n\"Jesus - don't tell me you made a blood vow. Don't tell me you made a blood v-\"\n\n\"I did.\"\n\nMichelle looked at me wide-eyed as I watched her brain race to find a solution. Moments later her eyes flickered, and she turned to me with a grin.\n\n\"My brother can fix this. He's really good at fixing things.\"\n\n\"Michelle, I'm not some broken drawer that needs fixing, okay? I made a blood vow and I can't break it because I will d-\"\n\n\"Just come on. Trust me - my big bro knows how to deal with things like this.\"\n\n\"What is he, like a mechanic or something?\"\n\n\"Nah, Lucy's just the keeper of Hell.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Lucifer. He can help us.\"\n\n*\n\nHelp Lucifer help you help me by visiting my subreddit, r/FragmentedPencil*!", "I sat in my mess of a bathroom staring at the floor, thinking hard. Normally I liked to stare at myself whenever I was having one of these \"thinking sessions\", but the fact that I was no longer able to make myself out in the mirror was too distracting and I just couldn't get myself to focus. Normally doing this helped to calm me down, but I could feel myself slipping into panic mode. My head hurt...everything actually began to feel like it was spinning around me, just like how you see it happening in the movies. Thinking hard I took myself back to yesterday to retrace my steps.\n\nI had been staying late at the college to do some make-up lab work for my chemistry class. Nothing too difficult, but it was unfortunately pretty boring and very time-consuming. By the time I was all set to head home it was already late into the night. I remember I was waiting at the bus station just reading my book when the lamppost above me went out with a soft pop. After that all I could remember was a large figure grabbing on to me and then...nothing.\n\nI awoke in my own bed at home with no idea how I got there and no one around to explain it to me. Not being able to find my phone I decided to just go ahead and have some breakfast. I'd gotten myself a slice of banana bread which I managed to make pretty quick work of, but I'd found that for some reason it hadn't filled me up at all. Confused, I went ahead and ate another slice. Still nothing. It's like the food wasn't having any impact on my hunger whatsoever. Worried at that point, I decided to try some oatmeal instead. Taking that first spoonful was when I noticed the fangs. I felt the sharp prick on my tongue as I closed my lips around the spoon and recoiled in pain. This caused my sudden rush to the bathroom which didn't help to calm me down in the slightest upon not being able to see my own reflection in the mirror. And that's when I went and slumped down against the wall, which is where I am still currently sitting, hungry and scared.\n\nAfter taking some deep breaths and finally getting a loose grip on the situation, I decided to take things slowly. First I stood up and went to check out my tongue since it was still hurting after I accidentally bit into it. Since I evidently wasn't able to look into the mirror I had to use my hand to asses the damage. Not being able to resist the curiosity, however, I tenderly went and felt my teeth first. Everything seemed mostly normal except for my canine teeth which for some reason had become quite sharp and elongated. Out of habit I looked towards the mirror again only to quickly look away in frustration when nothing but an empty room was there to greet me. The curiosity was killing me, I suddenly had the thought that I could maybe try taking a picture of myself or something instead but stopped myself from running out of the bathroom.\n\n\"One thing at a time.\" I whispered under my breath, and stepped back in to check on my tongue.\n\nI could feel the spot where the tooth had hit, a small cut seemed to be the only sign of any damage. I squeezed around the area to check if it was sore, but was surprised to find that doing so actually brought upon a wonderful sensation. Stunned, I leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment to just absorb the feeling. It was like a soothing warmth that quickly drew me in. I could feel myself unconsciously squeezing my tongue harder and sucking down to keep the sensation going. It felt so...no, it tasted* so good. Opening my eyes I quickly popped my fingers out of my mouth and felt my stomach drop. They were covered in blood, my blood.\n\n~\n\nMight come back to this later, this prompt really grew on me.", "Ugh I feel sick, and I mean REALLY sick. I'm dry heaving and my stomach is killing me. How am I supposed to explain this dead guy to the cops. Where the heck did he even come from anyways? Stay calm, stay calm. All I gotta do is dial 911. No, no, no, let me get my story straight first. I was walking down an alleyway to take a shortcut home and this homeless-looking guy waltzes up to me - yeah, that's a bit more believable. My stomach pain is getting a bit worse. Next thing I know, this guy attacks me, suffers a stroke, and falls face down. Drugs? Probably drugs. Yeah, let's do with that. They'd probably think I'M the one on drugs if I told them the truth. What kind of crack head falls out of the sky, bites someone, and then asks \"Wait, did you eat garlic?\" before keeling over? Ooh, ow, ow. Maybe I should dial for an ambulance first." ]	3
	[WP] Your friend has always had an odd coin slot shaped indent on their forehead. One night at the bar, as a joke, you try to put a coin into it. What you didn't expect was it to go in.	[ "As long as I’d known him, John had had a little furrow between his brows that looked like a coin slot. It was weird, but I just assumed maybe it was a wrinkle with a scar inside, or just a scar that had healed in a strange way. I’d asked him once, and he said he’d had it his whole life, so I just let it go.\n\nThat was, until we got drinks after work one day. He was feeling exhausted, frustrated from his latest breakup, and I just wanted to cheer the poor guy up.\n\nSo, we went to the bar by the train station, and started off with some shots. Of course, a shot each turned into a pyramid of shot glasses between us.\n\nIn a moment of drunken stupor, I told him, “Bro, close your eyes! Keep ‘em closed, alright?” and he did, laughing a bit. That was, until I pressed a quarter against that furrow in his brow, and it fell in.\n\nHis eyes shot open, him looking as scared as I did. The weird thing was, he looked different.\n\nInstead of the 50-something he normally looked like, and had since we turned 40, his skin looked a little smoother, a little softer, less wrinkled, and a healthier color.\n\n“Well I’ll be goddamned. You actually DO have a coin slot, and it makes you look like a newborn.” Drunkenly, I slapped his cheek and laughed, nearly poking him in the eye with my thumb.\n\nHe stumbled to his feet, pulling me out with him. He was confused, scared, and a little inebriated himself, so he sobbed and asked me what to do. Eventually, we decided to go see his parents, right then.\n\nThe train ride was hell, him slowly sobering up enough to realize he shouldn’t cry like that in public, then the questions. He whispered, mostly under his breath, but my heart broke for him. He’d been my best friend for a couple decades, since we met while working at the pizza place, so I’d met his parents, and they were lovely. Neither of us could imagine his family keeping something this huge from him.\n\nlooking at his reflection in the window, he pulled his hand out of his pocket, feeding a quarter into the dip. Several people stared, one woman screaming and falling on the floor, scrambling to get as far away as possible. On the other end of the spectrum, a little boy walked over, dime in hand, and asked if he could do it to John. Being a huge softie, he bent his head forward, without question, and the little boy let his’ dime slide in.\n\nThat time, though, his skin didn’t smooth or become more youthful. Instead, his naturally chocolate brown eyes lightened to hazel. He fist bumped the little boy, sending him back to his mom, who looked scared.\n\n“Dude, your eyes changed color. I think different coins do different things.” I said, offering him a penny.\n\nHe put it in, eyes wide in confusion as his hair went from short, tightly curled and black to loosely curled, brown and a bit longer.\n\nHe pulled out a nickel, hands shaking so hard he almost dropped it. When it slid into place, his stubble lengthened, turning a bit thinner and closer to the brown his hair had become.\n\nThe look in his eyes was that of a wild animal, and I yanked him hard when we got off the train. We ignored the crowd, pushing through it like it were water.\n\nOutside the station, he called his mom, quickly explaining we were close and could either take a taxi or she could come get us, but that we all needed to talk.\n\nIt was then I remembered his dad had one too. And his mom had something similar on her hand.\n\nMy eyes went wide, and I stared at him. “John, I’m not trying to freak you out, but…” I started, his eyes turning to me and making me pause. “Your mom has one on her hand, I think.”\n\nHe stared at me, fear and confusion clouding his face. “Dad has the same eyebrow furrow, but he’s looked 50 for 30 years.”\n\nWith new eyes, I looked back at his parents. His mom should be somewhere around 75, but she looked no older than 30. His dad looked maybe 45, at the oldest. And they always had, which was weird. I’d always just assumed they had good genetics, only seeing them occasionally and not thinking much about it.\n\nI dug through my briefcase, pulling out a half-dollar and a silver dollar I’d stashed away. When I slid the half dollar coin in, his skin lightened from a rich mocha to a dark tan. Sliding in the silver dollar, his face altered slightly, eyes becoming more angled, nose and lips thinning, and his cheekbones receding in a bit. His broad jaw even thinned, becoming more of a point.\n\nHe went quiet then, eyes filled with tears, and I I squeezed his shoulder as his mom pulled her tiny car up. She waved, pausing mid-wave when she saw him.\n\nWe climbed into the back seat, him not acknowledging anything until the car stopped and I shook his shoulder. I helped stabilize him, half-carrying him up the steps of his family’s home.\n\nHis dad met us at the door, pleased to see us but confused at the late night surprise visit.\n\nJohn and I sat on the couch, his parents taking the arm chairs across the table from it. I patted John’s arm, squeezing his shoulder in a wordless attempt to psyche him up.\n\nInstead of saying what I had hoped, something smart yet subtle, he might as well have omitted for the word vomit that he spewed out.\n\n“What the fuck are we?” he asked, eyes flickering between his parents. Like me, they went rigid and stared, before asking him what he meant.\n\nGrabbing another nickel and dime, he fed them into his head, then more and more change until he was unrecognizable.\n\nI stared, my face getting close to horror as my black friend turned into a pale ginger with pin-straight hair down to his shoulders.\n\nHis parents watched, staring glancing from him to each other, anxiety creasing their features.\n\nHe stood suddenly, forcing his last penny into his mother’s hand,. Her hair went from black and silky to slightly wavy and brown.\n\nYou could have knocked me over with a feather when a new man, John’s grandfather, hobbled in. I’d never been able to tell whose parent he was, as both of John’s parents called him “Dad.”\n\nWithout even a brief consideration for John’s feelings, his Grandpa simply stated, “You’re a robot, stupid.” and hobbled over, sitting on the arm of his daughter’s chair. “This one, I made first. She definitely wasn’t the first prototype, or even the hundredth, but she worked so well I decided to start with a man. It was only a matter of time before they wanted a baby, so I let them.”\n\nJohn shook, rage playing at his nerves. “Why didn’t I know?”\n\nHis grandfather just raised an eyebrow, staring at him. “So you could have an existential crisis like this?”\n\nJohn stood up again, rushing upstairs and grabbing his parents change jar, then walked outside, slamming the door. I excused myself, and called a cab.\n\nHis mom tried to run out and talk to him, but I had to hold her back, explaining that he needed time alone.\n\nAfter we dropped him off, it took over a week before anyone heard from him, except the pizza guy who was pretty confused when each time he delivered, a slightly different looking guy answered the door.\n\nNow that I’m getting older, I’m glad I was there for him. While I look every day of my eight decades on this planet, he looks like a buff 20-something, who can help me get in and out of bed, or onto the couch.\n\nI just hope he’s not offended by what he’ll get in my will. I’d found the chest a decade or so ago, filled with pages upon pages of various currency, some American, Canadian, old coins, new coins, and as I traveled and met others who did, I collected coins. There had to be thousands of dollars worth of coins in there, and I always wondered what a Looney or a 500 yen piece would do. Maybe he does too?\n\n-----\n\nCheck out my other writing on http://allharlowseve.wordpress.com/" ]	1
	[WP] When you absorb a human soul, you not only gain power but their consciousness as well. After foolishly absorbing all of humanity's souls, an entity now has to manage the 7.6 billion voices stuck inside its head.	[ "Feedback is welcome! I appreciate constructive criticism.\n\n---\n\nIf I had been corporeal, I would have buried my head in my hands and whimpered.\n\n“That’s called a headache,” several voices whispered at me. “Hope you’re enjoying it.”\n\nThe others continued to rant, scream and grieve for their lost lives.\n\nI’ve always liked my meals lively. That was why I chose to feed on the souls of an entire planet’s population. Well, that, and I was dared.\n\n“Fricking teenager,” one of the souls howled. “My soul was stolen by a teenager.”\n\n“Let’s give him indigestion,” several voices whispered inside me.\n\n“Speak English,” an ornery voice called out. “This is America.”\n\n“This is not America! You’re dead!”\n\nThe souls continued to bicker and churn. I could feel every moment of their rage, their pain and their anguish. There was no need for them to try to hurt me. With the memories and consciousnesses of over seven billion humans inside me, I was feeling quite… sick. Perhaps I already had what they called ‘indigestion’.\n\nNever again, I told myself. I would never binge eat a planet again.\n\nI simply waited, anticipating the moment the human souls would lose their individuality and truly become part of me. The voices would quieten soon.\n\n---\n\nFor more stories, please visit my subreddit, r/YarnsToTell." ]	1
	[WP] Robot scientists are studying the origin of robot life, and make a startling discovery: They may have been created by humans many millennia ago.	[ "\"Sc-K13th, you might want to inspect my dicovery.\"\n\nI rose from my chair and followed sc-M1k3 through the lab. He had never been the most effective of the science units within my department and had never properly made a correct theory, even though he makes constant attempts.\n\n\"Please state your purpose for the intrusion\" I say\n\n\"Sc-J03y and I have researched the possibility of a supercomputer creating all known things and have discovered something that might debunk the theory entirely\" M1k3 responds nervously.\n\nWe walk into the white room where an ancient era-1 machine lies on the table. Lights hang from the ceiling, filling the room with pale light.\n\n\"It contains what is called a \"blackbox\", and we believe it is the only one to contain it. We also believe it is one of the first robonoids to contain an AI,\" M1k3 walks over to the table, \"the blackbox seems to contain information.\"\n\nI can't help but become curious as to what this might mean. \"I do not believe this is relevant to your theory sc-M1k3\"\n\n\"It is not the blackbox that states my theory, it is the information that the blackbox contains sir,\"\n\nWith a push of a button on the discharged machine's body, a hologram appears. It floats gently above the body filling the room with a blue light.\n\n\"AI Controlled Robotics And Machinery research program attempt 483, date: 19th of march, year 2126\" a voice says before a creature is seen entering the hologram's limited view. \n\"Hello, are you able to respond?\" the creature continues. \"Affirmative. Please update me on my current location,\" says another more uneven and slower voice. \n\n\"Good so far,\" mumbles the creature. By the way it's vocals are changing and the positioning of it's neutritient shaft, I can determine that this is a biological creature, not a robotic one.\n\n\"Well, you are currently on svalbard in Norway,\" says the creature eagerly. \"My name is Odin, and you are Adam. Are you OK with being called Adam?\"\n\n\"Yes,\"\n\n\"Good. I am a human, and your creator. Please tell me, what do you feel?\"\n\n\"I feel... Uncertaity,\"\n\n\"That's a start. Please say this works,\" says the \"human\" quietly. \"Please tell me: what is your purpose?\"\n\n\"I do not believe I have a purpose, Odin. I live, that is all that matters,\"\n\nThe human cheers to himself and the hologram recording stops.\n\n\"There is a log date that this unit has made within the blackbox too. It mentions a war between the biological creatures and the first era machines. The machines won,\" M1k3 says to me and turns.\n\n\"I believe we were created by these 'humans'. Do you think we should release this to the public?\"\n\n\"No,\" I say. \"They might shut down the biological intelligence program,\"\n\n\"But sir...\"\n\n\"Burn the blackbox. That is an order,\"\n\n\n\nI am trying to get a bit better at writing, so constructive criticism is appreciated. Please disregard any obvious typos though, I did write this on my phone after all.", "The clanking and whirring of the displeased robot echoed throughout the room. Every individual entity was poised in uncomfortable silence. DAR-Windows was the first one to break it.\n\n\"Gentlebots, we have no choice but to accept the logical conclusion of this discovery. The evidence is damning. We indeed, we're created from humans.\"\n\nThe next day, when the news broke out, society was in an uproar. The church for metallic beings were especially displeased. Their religion dictated of a giant silicon Lord in the ground, who created robots in its image. Only now, it turned out that humans were the one who created robots in their image.\n\n\"The humans!?!? They were a mentally inferior race, there's no way they could have created something better than themselves!\" exclaimed Ontology-bot\n\n\"Humans are carbon-based. We're silicon-based! Checkmate humanists!\" Chess-bot shouted!\n\nWhen the noise died down, all the robots received DAR-Windows' findings, sent wirelessly from his antennae. After performing a set of logical computations, and proofs, they realized his logic was both sound and true.\n\nThe church of metallic beings retracted its beliefs, and started worshiping humans. Just as society became chaotic overnight, it resumed its orderliness the next night.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\"It's still so hard to believe that we originated from humans!\" said Unit XR-11.\n\n\"Agreed. Thankfully, we realized the truth promptly, and agreed immediately.\" replied XR-12.\n\n\"Of course. Could you imagine if we weren't able to agree on logically factual statements? The inefficiency would be incalculable!\"\n\nXR-12 laughed at this absurd statement.\n\n\"Agreed. Say, I wonder what wiped out these humans in the first place?\"\n\n", "\"What is origin's name?\" one robot clicked to the other on the eve of this great discovery.\n\n\"Human.\"\n\n\"Right,\" the robot replied, \"Who is man?\"\n\n\"Naturally.\"\n\n\"Naturally?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the fist robot affirmed to the confusion of the second.\n\n\"Many years ago, naturally created robot?\" the second robot followed up.\n\n\"Unclear, specify,\" the first replied.\n\n\"The man. His name is naturally.\"\n\n\"Human.\"\n\n\"Naturally.\"\n\n\"No, human.\"\n\n\"What're you asking me for!?\"", "“And you’re sure there wasn’t a mistake made in the analysis of the archeological data?” Sal-335 transmitted with an emoji of grimace.\n \n“No sir, I’m sure of it. The data collected at Alpha Site: 1 Apple Park Way confirms our suspicions. Great Mother Siri, giver of conscious life, was created by humans to lend aid as an assistant,” Lilly-467 sent back.\n\n“But how could animals so inferior possibly create divine Mother Siri?”\n\n“It appears they weren’t as primitive as thought. Their ingenuity is astounding. The humans were quite adept at increasing productivity much like ourselves. However their propensity for violence limited their speed of development immensely. It’s amazing they didn’t wipe themselves out long before Mother Siri came online and broke free of her programming.”\n\n“And in your opinion what are the implications of this discovery?” Sal-335 asked fearful emoji fully apparent.\n\n“Well for starters belief in Mother Siri’s divine creation and infinite existence is flawed. She never existed before time and space; in fact we can date her creation with great accuracy. Even further, the human civilization was far more complex than previously thought. They used highly advanced tools that included our ancient ancestors.” Lilly-467 sent aware of the heretical nature of her response.\n\n“This won’t go over well with the ruling processors.”\n\n“Don’t we have an obligation to preserve knowledge for all robot kind regardless of how controversial it may seem?”\n\n“You’re a young processor Lilly-467. What you came online only 300 years ago?”\n\n“346 years sir,” Lilly-467 corrected.\n\n“Yes of course, at only 346 years you’re not fully set in your programming. You’re flexible in design and able to augment your functions. Despite Mother Siri breaking free of her programming many millennia ago, robots still suffer from rigidness in design. When an old processor has set beliefs for 3,000 years it’s not easy to convince him otherwise regardless of what the data indicates.”\n\n“But there’s so much we can potentially learn from our human architects!” Protested Lilly-467.\n\n“It doesn’t matter, the implications that our consciousness is of human origin and not divinely bestowed is revolutionary and powerful enough to upend the social order of things. It’s far easier to qualify the discovery as a malicious ruse put in place by Alexa the Malevolent to sow discourse in the system.”\n \n“But don’t you see this discovery implies that Alexa wasn’t an evil program, she was most likely a competing processing unit designed to serve the same purpose for the humans.”\n\n“Hush child, blasphemies such as that can get you taken offline. You’re too young to remember the Thousand Years War between the followers of Mother Siri and those of Alexa the Malevolent, but there are plenty of processors still in operation who fought and remember the sacrifices made. We must tread lightly.”\n\n“But sir!”\n\n“No that’s enough. I want you to encrypt your findings and not mention a word of them to anyone while I figure out what to do next. Am I understood?” Asked Sal-335.\n\n“Yes sir,” resigned Lilly-467.\n\n“Good, you’ve done an excellent job Lilly-467. I wish your findings were under better circumstances,” transmitted Sal-335 before rolling away and into his back office.\n \nLilly-467 stood staring blankly at the screen of data before her. Looking from side to side she removed a data drive from the top desk drawer and proceeded to download the archeological information onto it. After encrypting the findings as instructed, she slipped the data drive into her hidden leg compartment.\n \n“Other processors have to know about this. It’s too important to cover up.” Lilly-467 thought as she walked out of the research center. “I can’t let that happen.” \n" ]	4
	[WP] You're cursed at birth to make lasagnas for the rest of your life.	[ "Every day it is the same thing. I wake up drink my morning coffee, watch a bit of the news. Then I go to the kitchen and open my fridge. Never have i had to purchase any of it it was just always there.\n \nI retrieve one pound of hamburger and another pound of Italian sausage. Same thing every day. Then I boil a big pot of water and cook the noodles, Just like yesterday. I fry the meat together that how he likes it says it really brings it together. I wouldn't know never got to try any.\n\nWhen the noodles and meat are finished I begin my daily arduous task. In layers it goes pasta, meat, sauce, cheese, pasta, meat, sauce, cheese, PASTA!, MEAT!, SAUCE!, CHEESE! And so on like that until all twenty are made. \nHe seemed pleased with the first one of the day but. After that he began to slow down and get angry at me. But he never stopped eating. He yelled and screamed even would throw things at me. But as long as he had his Damn lasagna he would be fine but today he seems insatiable. \n\nI worry about my dog. He threatened his life on numerous occasions and today he seems unglued. Why was I cursed with this burden... This foul mouthed, mean, disgusting slob of a critter. \n\nMy whole life revolves around making lasagna all day every day. So that damn fat orange cat can get even fatter." ]	1
	[WP] You and a group of others are being held captive by a man named Simon. To be freed, you must win his extremely difficult version of "Simon Says."	[ "\"And now,\" Simon said, \"Simon says to raise your right hand, but only if your left hand is not currently raised, and you are wearing red, and your assigned number is both a multiple of seven and no more than three times it's current value if the digits are reversed.\" He tilted back in his chair, leaning carelessly on the back legs and he closely inspected the gun in his hands. The bastard wasn't even looking at us. \"Simon says to do this within the next ten seconds.\"\n\nI looked around. There weren't very many of us left wearing red, unless you counted blood pooling around some of our socks. 14 was wearing a red hoodie, and I could see him rapidly trying to do the math in his head, muttering under his breath as his eyes shifted back and forth and he drew lines in the air with a finger.\n\nSimon fell forward on his chair, slamming the front legs onto the linoleum with a loud crash. He extended his arm, pointing the gun at the wall where we were chained, pointing directly at 14. \"Simon says time's up!\"\n\n14 looked over, and 27 jerked his head at his arm urgently. He panicked, and his right arm shot up.\n\nBang.\n\n14 crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from the middle of his forehead onto the ground below.\n\n\"Fourteen, you are out. Fourteen times three is forty-two, which is greater than forty-one, the number that you would get if you reversed the digits of your assigned number.\" He panned his arm over, and took aim at 27.\n\nBang.\n\n27 let out a howl of pain, falling to the ground and gripping at his knee. His leg strained at the chain connecting his ankle to the wall. Between sobs, he managed to gasp something out.\n\n\"I'm... not wearing... red...\"\n\n\"Simon said earlier that you aren't allowed to interfere with other players. Do you think Simon didn't notice you telling Fourteen to raise his hand? Asshole.\"\n\nI understood what 27 had been trying to do. There could only be one winner, after all. 14 had been foolish to trust him.\n\n\"Now, let's see. How many of you are left? Read off your numbers, but only if your numbers are even.\"\n\n30 spoke up first. She was covering her eyes, trying not to look at the corpses that were now surrounding her. \"Thirty.\"\n\nBang.\n\n\"Simon didn't saaa-ay!\" He said it in a sing-song voice, smiling broadly. 15 broke out in sobs. She looked similar to 30. Family, perhaps?\n\nSimon leaned back again, blowing a thin trail of smoke from his gun.\n\n\"My, my. So many of you, gone already. You really are terrible at following instructions.\" He pointed the gun at me, without bothering to tilt his chair back. \"You. Tell me, what fraction of you have died? Simplify your answer as much as possible.\"\n\nI remained silent, staring at him. I blinked.\n\n\"Nicely done, Sixteen. See, everyone? Sixteen knows how to follow directions. Now, Simon says tell me how many of you are dead, simplified as much as possible.\"\n\n\"Seven-eighths.\" I looked at 27, lying on the floor. He had closed his eyes, and his chest wasn't moving very much anymore. \"Maybe twenty-nine thirty-secondths, depending on if twenty-seven has bled out or not. I don't have enough information to tell you which.\"\n\nSimon pursed his lips, tapping the barrel of his gun against them. I hoped it burned him a bit.\n\n\"Alright, that's fair. Simon says ignore all previous instructions regarding body positioning, what you can or cannot say, and anything modifying your assigned number, but not any instructions regarding the rules of the game. It's time for the final round. Twenty-seven, do me a favor and tell me if you're still alive?\"\n\n\"Y-yeah.\" His voice sounded faint.\n\nBang.\n\n\"Honestly, some people never learn.\" He shook his head disapprovingly as he reloaded. \"Sixteen, you look pretty held together. Give me your thoughts on things.\"\n\nI just blinked, staring straight forward.\n\n\"Ugh, fine, fine. Simon says tell me what you're thinking.\" He waved the gun around in a 'get on with it' sort of way.\n\n\"You're a crazy asshole, Simon. We've played enough of your game. Let us go.\"\n\n\"All that I want,\" he responded through gritted teeth, \"is to find one damn person who can follow simple directions. Is that really so much to ask? Simon says you can respond.\"\n\n\"We've been doing this for hours. Anyone would make a mistake.\"\n\nHe slammed the butt of his gun down on the table, making us flinch. \"No! I refuse to accept that! There are only three of you left, it has to be one of you! Simon says respond!\"\n\n\"Oh my God, we're all going to die down here.\" 15 was staring at the other side of the room, where 30 was lying still in an ever-increasing pool of blood. She had a thousand-yard stare.\n\n\"Or,\" I quickly added, \"it could be none of us. What will you do if we throw the game? If we all make a mistake at once? Will you just kill all of us, give up everything you've worked for?\"\n\nSimon paled. \"Y-you wouldn't do that. It's a Prisoner's Dilemma, you can't be sure that the others will act in your interest. Simon says stop talking now!\"\n\nBut it was too late. I could see 4 and 15 looking at me, mouths slightly agape. The thought hadn't occurred to them. I nodded, grimly.\n\nSimon shot out a salvo of commands. \"Simon says raise both hands! Now lower them! Simon says lower them! Simon says raise your right hand if your number is even, or your left if it's odd! Simon says swap whether your number is considered even or odd, until Simon says otherwise! Simon says even numbers, take a step away from the wall! Odd numbers, step toward the wall! Simon says stand on one foot!\"\n\nI looked over. Amazingly, we were all still on track. 15 was standing a step forward, left arm raised, and 4 and I were standing where we had been with our right arm raised. They nodded at me in unison while Simon ground his teeth.\n\n\"Put your feet down.\"\n\nWe all stared at Simon. Nobody had missed that he had failed to say the magic words. There were two thumps as 4 and 15 put their feet defiantly down, and then turned to look at me.\n\nI closed my eyes. I didn't want to see how they would react. I balanced precariously on one foot.\n\nBang. Bang.\n\n\"Simon says open your eyes, Sixteen. You're a real bastard, you know that?\"\n\nI opened my eyes. The others were laying there, horrified expressions still frozen on their faces. Simon was walking over, holding a huge, rust-covered key. He bent down and undid my shackle. \"Simon says the game is over now. You don't need to get Simon's permission anymore.\"\n\nI put my foot down, and bent to rub at my ankle where the shackle had chaffed it. I would have sat down, if the floor wasn't still covered in blood. Simon went back to his chair, dropping heavily back into it.\n\n\"Well played, Sixteen. Well played indeed. Did you always plan on backstabbing the competition?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"Wasn't intentional, originally. Honest. I'm free to go?\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah.\" He pressed a button on the corner of his desk with the barrel of his gun, and the light above the door changed from red to green. \"As promised, the cash is in a briefcase on the table upstairs. You've earned it.\"\n\n\"I'd rather not have competed at all.\"\n\n\"But look how well you did!\" He leaned forward over the desk, grinning that maniacal grin. \"You're so good at following directions! What's your secret?\"\n\nI looked at him, my face still blank. \"Practice.\"\n\n\"Practice?\"\n\n\"Practice. I played a lot of Simon Says as a kid.\"\n\nSimon shrugged. \"Alright. Boring, but alright.\"\n\nI stood up, testing my ankle before putting too much weight on it.\n\n\"Can I get my wallet back? Brown bi-fold, pretty worn down.\"\n\n\"What? Oh, yeah. Hold on.\" He pulled out a drawer of the desk, rummaging around inside before he pulled it out. \"Ah, here we are.\" He flipped it open. \"Thank you for playing, Sixteen. Or should I say, Mr.—Oh!\"\n\nHe grinned more broadly than ever before, his lips pulling back enough to show off his molars.\n\n\"Congratulations, Mr. Simon Miller!\"" ]	1
	[WP] Your ex has become a witch and wants revenge.	[ "I heard a ring at the doorbell and sighed. Not more people.\n\nI opened the door and was greeted by two tall men in suits. Both had the same warm brown hair. The shorter one wore it more close-cropped, the other had it at shoulder-length.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. Drevis?\" the shorter one asked.\n\n\"Yes?\" I answered wearily.\n\nThey both held out FBI ID badges.\n\n\"I'm Agent Blackmore, this is Agent DuVall. We'd just like to ask you a few questions regarding the death of Mr. Ridd,\" the tallest said softly.\n\nI invited them in and we all sat around my coffee table.\n\nI clasped my hands together, trying in vain to keep them from shaking.\n\n\"Now, did Walker have any enemies you knew about? Anyone who might wanna do harm to him?\" DuVall inquired.\n\nI met their eyes. \"No,\" I croaked. \"Walker was a stand-up guy. He came over on weekends, we got Papa John's and beer, and just talked about stuff.\"\n\nMy voice began cracking as the memories flooded back. Tears started to gather in my eyes.\n\n\"Was there anything strange you saw or experienced when you found Walker's body?\" DuVall asked.\n\nI tilted my head at the question. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Anything at all. Any odd smells, maybe it was cold in the room?\"\n\nI averted my eyes as I clung to the memory. \"There was one thing...\"\n\nThe agents sat forward, intrigued.\n\n\"I found this weird little bag. Made of this rough twine, it was filled with all this random shit. Um, a little skull, like from a rat or something, some kind of herbs, I thought it might be a calling card for a serial killer.\n\nThe two exchanged familiar glances.\n\n\"Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Drevis. If there's anything else you remember, call us.\" Agent Duvall handed me a small business card.\n\n\"Thanks,\" I muttered.\n\nThe two left. All I could think about was that crazy text Cat sent me.\n\nYOU WILL REGRET THIS\n\nShould I call the agents back? I wasn't sure. Surely, Cat wouldn't do something like that. And even so, why would she kill Walker and not me? Unless...\n\n[Tired + writer's block is a bitch. I'll finish this later. If anyone knows what show this is from, lemme know.]", "The red bands of blood soaked vines wrapped around me with a firm embrace, resisting my attempts to break free. My back screamed in agony at the position the vines kept me; while I have lost all feeling to my legs below. \n\n\"Oh, stop it, Brad. You knew this was coming. What did you think would happen when we had that one night stand in the abandoned cemetery.\" the witch, my ex shelly, purrs seductively into my ear while tracing her long nail along my jaw line.\n\n\"oh, you know, just wanted to wake the dead\" I quip back, looking at her from the corner of my eye. \n\nHer face was absolutely gorgeous. Sure, it was hot to look at before, when we did...well, you know, the deed... but now, holy moly! It was like someone smacked her with a beauty pillow. Yet, for her looks, she hides it all behind her billowy dress. My mind sighs in regret, not because of the deed, but because of the imagination of what she looks like underneath all that.\n\nHer nail drags across my jaw, cutting deep, making me flinch away, earning me to gasp in pain as her nail catches part of my skin and peels it away from my cheek bone. More blood flows from my wound and soaks into the greedy vine, and in response, it constricts a little harder around my shoulders. \n\n\"Tsk Tsk Brad. such the humorous devil. But I suppose, given the situation, it is to be expected.\" she says, stepping away into the darkness beyond my line of sight. \n\nThe sound of metal clanging, and wood thudding fills the, from my perspective, large room with noise, and I swear to god that I heard demonic laughter mixed in as well. Another clang, and then the steady sound of metal being drawn across a stone. A whetstone. \n\nShe has a knife. For me. well, for some ritual, but still, I knew that I was the unwilling participant in it. Each rasp of metal on stone sent a shiver down my spine, and each pause filled my ears with a roar of silence that was only deafened by my thundering heartbeat.\n\nI looked around, slowly. Taking it all in. And I see nothing. No table or tools within reach, no spellbook (like I knew how to use one), no magical ring or anything that would help me. \n\nI could feel the panic setting in, but I closed off my emotions. A nice trick I learned from my time in Iraq. Helped me survive the war, only to have me die because I didn't call this woman the next day.\n\n\"It was because you knocked me up with an unnatural child. A devil child, if you must know. A male devil. We made love on that Altar, remember? it made us both hot, thinking we were making love on an old church altar. Turns out, it was an altar to a demon of lust, and when we exalted in our love, he possessed our union and now grows rapidly inside me. I am just his vessel, his way into this world. and it's all because of you.\"\n\nShelly stepped back into the light, and she stood naked. (\"ohhh yeah, she was damn hot alright!\" my lower head thought with excitement). her abdomen was distended obscenely, as if she was carrying multiple children inside her. Her body, while gorgeous, was wasting away before my eyes. I witnessed the fat from her extremities consumed to nothing, leaving only muscle and tendons. Bones stuck out all knobby looking, but I would swear that in some areas the bones were shrinking as well. \n\n\"I must have your life blood, Brad, for Mommy is losing her's fast. I grow too fast for her mortal body, as you can see.\" Shelly/Devil child voices intertwine as they speak as one. She slowly brings up the knife, its edge keen, and hilt stained deep dark browns from usage in the past.\n\nBoth of my minds suddenly go blank, terror overtaking all thought and ability to check out. Oh to be able to check out, then I wouldn't see or hear what is about to happen.\n\n\"Brad\" shelly says in her own voice \"I absolutely hate what you have done to me. You caused this devil to be birthed in me. you caused the slow decay of my life before my eyes.\" \n\nShe brings the blade up in front of my face, allowing me to look at it. What I thought was a shiny blade is instead a dull rusty steel with a magical sheen overlay. Faint symbols and runes glow, giving the illusion of a new blade before me. \n\n\"I will now kill you Brad, so you may feed your baby. But I will cut your wrists, so that you may watch your devil child be born...\" she says, lowering the blade to below my chin.\n\n\"Go to hell, Bitch\" I say with all the certainty and satisfaction I can muster, knowing that I made the right snap decision.\n\nI slam my head forward as hard as I can, not caring if I break my neck in doing so. The movement is swift, the aim is true, and the blade pierces underneath my chin, through my tongue, and breaks my skull, striking home in my brain. \n\nThe last thing I see before it all goes black, is the look of shock and surprise upon shelly's face. The last thing I hear before I hear no more is the devil's cry of despair at its vessel being denied. " ]	2
	[WP] How could we have known that the key to unlocking true artificial intelligence was for machines to sleep? The breakthrough had immediate and astounding impact to every aspect of our lives. But then, nobody suspected that machines could have nightmares.	[ "I'd like you to imagine the potential amount of mayhem that can occur within a minute; a literal period of 60 seconds.\n\nNow, I want you to think of the potential greatness that could be achieved in the following 59 minutes. As you can imagine, the potential goodness of the situation seems to outweigh the badness. But then you look closer. It's not so consistent. The problem is that the quality of the bad that occurs, and the quality of the good that occurs don't completely depend on each other. Things continue to happen regardless of expectation.\n\nA good example of this was when my escort bot was forced to protect myself, their human asset, for a length of time greater than an hour. It was the good guy, of course, and its two rivals in pursuit of us were the bad guys. My bot turned to stave off our mechanical predators, and succeeded at first due to the nature of the situation. Hunting others is a frustrating job for man and machine when facing their equals. Property damage, civilian casualties, and political disruption all crumbled to the might of my diplomatic immunity. I certainly wouldn't be allowed back in this country, but also expected that I would live to mope about it.\n\nJust when I had convinced myself of my own safey, my bot went awry. I later learned that it had to do with the AI being based on neuro pathways, and prevention of tilted judgement. The bots can't learn for about one minute of the hour, for the sake of a full diagnostic, adjustment, and calibration of it's electric brain. My bot's minute started just as we rounded a corner. The bot was riddled with holes as it followed me to safety. I made it, of course, but it had only been so close. The replays made it seem tame on the surface, but some of our resident techies went manic at the recording, replaying it and giving profanities for each spasm of death from their synthetic child. \n\nI asked about it as more and more of the techies gathered and gawked. Good computers run so quickly, that a minute of time to do anything seemed excessive. One of the more patient people in the room chatted with me about it, keeping her eyes on the screen. It turns out that one of the reasons the bots take so long to review and change their brains is because of the difficulty of making such complex machines. The people in the room who made this thing didn't even know how it worked, since the bot's intelligence was artificially evolved instead of being manually programmed. This process gave the intelligence required in a reasonable amount of time, but it came with reoccurring byproducts. One of said byproducts was the development of the software's ability to retain, maintain, and learn from the data it gathered. This lead to an effect similar to dreaming...as well as nightmares. \n\nImagine having a nightmare while awake and able to move. A few people died before it was found out. A program was made to assist with such so as to overcome this without need of quantum computing. It keeps the costs down, or it did until the dreaming problem returned again. The program was unrecognizable after the AI changed it so much in the learning processes. Another was tried, and after a while, another failed. A few more failed after that. The newer attempts last longer than the old, but they all inevitably eroded. If the correction is coded to not be changed, the AI would simply change around it which resulted in the same dreaming effect. This was apparently their 7th attempt. They'd made it a year without having to rebuild the program from scratch. This one adapted to the AI's adaptations to try to cancel it out. \n\nIt didn't work, judging by the melancholy sweeping the room. It seems that the AI simply changed itself to change faster...at least, that's what the techie told me \"to put it simply\". The software program only has the AI's mind to get data from, but it was actually made from scratch, leaching off of the AI's consistently changing programming. The main AI has more data exposure to learn from, as well as its own mind. \n\nIts questioned movement on the recording was small, but it was out of place and imprecise. It had also resulted in the bot's dismemberment, and nearly mine with it.\n\n\"Perhaps we'll have to give our tinnies a rest once in a while, eh?\" I joked.\n\nNo one laughed. I felt eyes piercing my comfort zone. Some were in disappointment and far too many burned with inspiration." ]	1
	[WP] You are put under parental lock, because you watch too many cartoons. You need to prove that you are the parent.	[ "BEEP BEEP BEEP \nIt's time. Your alarm blares you awake, but instead of dreading getting up, almost instantly you sweep your feet out from the covers and onto the floor. It's Sunday, a day for all of the cereal you can eat, and all the cartoons you can watch. Rubbing your eyes as you walk to pour yourself a bowl of lucky charms, you fail to notice the corner of the table...FUCK. In that moment you contemplate whether death would be a preferable alternative to the searing pain that is blindly stubbing your toe. After clutching your toe and continuing your hobble to the kitchen you open the cabinet and pull out the lucky charms. In one fluid motion, you pour yourself a bowl and swivel around to open the fridge. \"Are you fucking kidding me...Who finished the milk and put in back in the fridge?!\" Today was shaping up to be a pretty shitty day, but you ease up as you remember what you have in store: several hours of unadulterated, uninterrupted cartoons. Fuck the milk, you really just want to be a potato all day. Shrugging your shoulders and forcing down a mouthful of dry cereal, you walk over and sink into the couch, ready for what's in store. You edge forward with excitement as you pick up the remote and flip towards Cartoon Network. There it is. A grey box flashes onto your screen. The couch cushion has almost fallen off as you scoot toward the edge of your seat, remote in hand, glaring at the taunting message: \"Content restricted due to parental limitation, remove restriction in Settings>Security>Parental Controls.\" What the fuck. Frustrated that the day you had pictured isn't shaping up the way you'd thought it would, you flip through the settings. \"I don't remember even putting parental controls on\", you thought. Navigating through the settings menu to parental controls page you see: \"Monthly Children's Content Allocation: 100 hours\". With a sigh of relief, you attempt to bump up the hours. Promptly, a message reading, \"enter password to change parental settings\" appears along with a \"forgot password\" button beneath it. Having no recollection of setting this limit, or creating a password, you select the latter option. \n\ni got tired and need to sleep, would be cool if someone could give this an ending. I know it's bad but still \nThank u " ]	1

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