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] The light switches that seem to never do anything actually kill random people around the world.	[ "\"Johnny, don't play with the light switch.\"\n\nThis was something that little Johnny was told on an almost daily basis, but how could he help it? The switch did nothing. 'Well it must do something' Johnny would think to himself. Some days he would go by and flip the switch only a few times, while other days he would sit and play with it for hours on end. This switch boggled Johnny's mind.\n\nThis was one of the playful days, and Johnny's mother was through with his deliberate disobedience.\n\n\"Johnny, this is the last time I am going to tell you this; STOP PLAYING WITH IT!\"\n\n\"Why? It's not like it is going to do anything!\"\n\n\"Somethings just don't work, now sto-\"\n\nJohnny's mother collapsed to the ground. Johnny ran to her and screamed at the top of his lungs. Waking her was fruitless. She was dead.\n\nIt was moments after that he realized why so was so persistent. She knew what could have happened. Johnny was horrified. 'How many have I killed' Johnny thought to himself. He was sickened. \n\nFrom that point on, Johnny spent his days flipping the switch, hoping that one day It would be him", "No one knew why Uncle Gary had died. Forty three, never even smoked a cigarette, never touched a drop of alcohol, collapsed suddenly on his morning run. Dead. The doctors scratched their heads, relatives scoured their family history for hereditary diseases, neighbours left their well wishes. \n\nNo one knew why Uncle Gary had died. Apart from me. \n\nI had been five when I had discovered the switch behind the radiator guard. You could only see it if you crouched right down and fiddled around behind the old radiator, and who would do that apart from a child, or a handyman who knew that it was best not to touch switches that had nothing to do with the task in hand. \n\nFive year old me did what any five year old would do, and flicked the switch. Nothing. \n\nAt dinner that night, my mother came in red eyed, and announced the terrible news. \n\n\"Morty is dead,\" she sniffed.\n\n\"Was she hit by a car?\" my father draped a heavy arm over my mother's thin shoulders. \n\nMy mother shrugged, \"not a mark on her. I just found her nestled in the pile of laundry.\" \n\nI stabbed my peas and thought about Morty lying in the washing pile, waiting for someone to find her. \n\n\"At least she had a good life,\" my father soothed. \n\nI don't know how I knew, but I had had something to do with it. \n\nI left the switch alone after that, keeping as far away as I could from it, but curiosity climbed under my skin, itching away at my muscles. I thought about it night and day, the gnawing guilt of possibly killing the family cat battling with the intense craving to try out the power of that dead switch.\n\nTwo months later, I couldn't take it any longer. I took an old jam jar from the cupboard and made my way out into the garden. Heaving over a huge rock, I discovered my treasure in the form of a hundred wriggling woodlice, scattered like silver coins. I placed 5 in my jar, headed back to the living room, crawled on my belly, moved the radiator guard and took a deep breath. \n\nClick. \n\nI looked at the jar, four wriggling woodlice trying to crawl up then sides of the jar. \n\nClick. \n\nA second wood louse froze. \n\nClick click click. \n\nOne by one they curled up, and I covered my mouth in horror, uneasiness settling in my stomach. I wriggled back out from under the radiator, hurriedly put the radiator guard back and emptied the dead woodlice out into the garden. \n\nI never touched that switch again. Soon it became something distant, something I'd dreamed, or part of play where my imagination had run wild. \n\nSeven years later we moved to the upmarket area of the city, in a tall modern building. Uncle Garry had been helping us move in, lugging the cardboard boxes out of the car and hauling them up three flights, as he was the strongest of all of us. It was a long drive back to his house, so my father offered him to stay at ours for the night. \n\n\"Take the guest room!\" he offered, \"it's there for a reason.\"\n\n\"As long as it's no trouble,\" Uncle Garry smiled. \n\nIn the morning, I woke up to the blinding light streaming through my window. We hadn't fitted curtains in the skylight yet. It was too hot, and I padded across the laminate flooring towards the dresser, to switch on the fan.\n\nClick. \n\nNothing happened. \n\nIt was then that I saw the two switches next to the door, and I felt a familiar cold, sick feeling prickle across my body. \n\nAnd then the shout from my father as his brother collapsed on the pavement outside of our house.", "A light switch is meant to bring light into our lives, but this one, this one is special, it takes the light that is our life. \n\n\nIt sits in a basement, of a building long forgotten. The crumbling ruins of a once magnificent science laboratory, which belonged to the most brilliant and mad scientist to ever live. \n\n\nThe building rusts, it's moss covered walls are slowly breaking, yet the light switch stays, in the room with no light, a room of true darkness. \n\n\nA young boy wanders, into the old lab, in the forest were he was told to never enter, but his rebellious and adventurous heart told him otherwise, and he braved on into the lab of the mad scientist. \n\n\nThe building is unstable, the boy is scared, he enters the dark room. Hit by the darkness that could even fill the heart of the bravest man with fear, he frantically flicks the light switch, hoping for some light to shine in this room, but no light came. \n\n\nThe young boy ran with all his might, out of the dark room, out of the ruined lab, out of the forbidden forest. His face and pants, both now soaked, fear filled his heart, he ran and ran towards the village, where he calls home. \n\n \nHe was frightened and needed the comfort and adoration of his mother, or a warm and tight hug from his father, he rushed into his house, ignoring the strange silence that surrounded the village, he yelled his parents names with delight, \n\n\nBut no response came, and no response will ever come. \n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You live in a world where people can feel it when their soulmate is hurt or injured. Your soulmate is playing russian roulette.	[ "\"…Oh! Jacob…\"\n\nThe words no sooner escaped my lips than I winced, watching as the tuxedoed man explained the rules to the crowd. The pot started at ten million, and it was double or nothing; each subsequent pull of the trigger would multiply the winnings. In general, it was an easy game; as long as the barrel was allowed to spin and come to a complete stop before being locked into the revolver, the weight of the bullet would usually cause it to hang at the bottom, almost guaranteeing the first two shots to be empty. It wasn't the first time Jacob had volunteered to play; he knew the odds, and felt russian roulette to be a fairly calculated risk. Easy money, as he liked to say.\n\nThe tuxedoed man must have known the odds too; the barrel twirled for nary a few seconds before the man flicked his wrist and a loud click! resonated around the room, locking the bullet into place. Now the odds for each shot were effectively 1 in 2: live, or die. \n\nMy heart skipped a beat. Jacob looked so handsome with that cocky grin, with the light glinting off his glasses as he smiled in the face of death. He'd never admit it directly for my sake, but I knew that moment was what he secretly lived for; the real thrill of not knowing, that exciting rush of anxiety as your brain screams no but your heart beats faster than lightning, pumping the blood and adrenaline through your system faster than a junkie shooting up three bottles of heroin. He craved it more than sex, that feeling of being alive; it was primal, instinctual, and the most manly thing he could ever do was triumph and survive.\n\nOne…", "They've caught him. I can feel it in every sharp crack against my cheek, and it burns. \n\nIt was only a matter of time. I knew what John was doing but I loved him anyway. I loved him enough to always keep a gun in my boot and a knife on my hip and never think twice about it. I figured if I ever really needed them, I wouldn't have time to anyway. \n\nI'm almost to the door when another one comes into my stomach. I ignore it an push on, out the door to our apartment and down the stairs. I have to remind myself, my body that this isn't me. I barely make it to the front door of our building before I feel another blow to the face. There's no time to see if the blood I feel is mine. I just keep running. \n\nThe docks are only a few blocks away. They killed his brother there, why not him. I run through every throbbing bash and blow. I feel the muscles in my arm twist and a dull pain in my knees. It's just another block. \n\nI round the corner to the row of dock houses. Another hard one to the back of the head sends me tumbling forward. Every punishing ache in my body has only pushed me further. I pull my gun out of my boot and walk to the same dock house I was in only a week before. \n\nJust inside a cracked window I can see John, arms bound behind his back and kneeling on the ground before his uncle, Samuel. One of the other two men standing around him says something but my attention is on the single bullet Samuel puts into a gun. It looks a lot like mine but with a bloody grip. He motions to another to cut John's bindings while he spins the cylinder. I can see a glimmer in his eye as he smirks. \n\nI see the butt of the gun crash down against John's cheek and feel the stone hard wood against my own. I move towards the door slowly; it's already open about an inch. I look through the crack to see Samuel hand the gun to John.\n\n\"You can be a man and do this or we can do you like we did Pete.\" \n\nJohn puts the gun to his head. I rip open the door before he can pull the trigger and fire three shots. Samuel staggers back and the other two go down clean. Practice finally pays off. \n\nJohn turns to me, bloodied and battered and my heart sinks. Then I feel it, like a flaming arrow through my brain. He falls to the floor but the fire is still burning. I feel another shot. This one is mine. The searing in my head was being replaced by the throbbing pain in my arm. \n\nI reel around and fire off two more shots. One lands square in Samuel's shoulder. My knees buckle as his backup gun falls from his hands. He has the same look in his eyes that he left John's brother with. \n\nI'm a volcano that family rules said was never allowed to erupt. It's enough to make me lean in, knife in hand. I cover his mouth with one hand despite the pain and whisper to him. \n\n\"I only wish your whore wife was still alive to feel this.\" \n\nAnd I start cutting.", "I can feel it. The intensity of the despair has been building for a while. I'm actually in a good place right now, so I know it must be her. She probably hasn't felt anything from me since spring. She's been hurting, and now she's become reckless. I don't know what she's doing right now, but I know it's risky. I wish I could just find her... let her know she's not alone.\n\n\nI can feel her pain, both emotional and physical, but there's nothing I can do. Months ago it was the recurrent pains of a hangover every single day. Then, it began to shift to streaks of pain on various parts of the body. Now It's entered a cyclic pattern. It builds to a boiling point and then a gush of relief comes, but even that is tinged with anguish. I have to get to her somehow. My pace quickens.\n\n\n\n I've been searching for her my entire life and now I'm afraid I'll lose her. It's killing me.\n\nI feel it building once again, and I know I have to save her. Luckily, I've arrived. \n\nWe're almost at the boiling point now and I'm primed to send a message. I step through the sliding doors and slide into a nearby wheelchair.\n\n\n\"Sir, are you alright?\" The triage nurse asks worriedly.\n\n\n\"I hope we'll both be, ma'am\"\n\n\nI plunge the pocket knife into my chest." ]	3
	[WP] The Princess has been kidnapped and locked away in a hightower, guarded by a dragon. Only a brave knight can save her. Give this story a modern twist.	[ "Sir Dedrick finished tightening up his boot strap and snapped his head up to the loud crack of the dragons roar. Before him lay the Grand Castle of Yeaton. A monument to man and all his glory. Grey covered every inch of the castle. Tiny squares of space were sprayed throughout the castle which gave insiders views to the outside. Standing on the bridge leading directly into the heart of the castle Dedrick was surrounded by rubble. Swords and armor of battles past lined the bridge. At the highest tower was held Princess Amelia. She was trapped by the beast below who ruled over the Grand Castle of Yeaton for his own. The dragon was known as Francis. An enormous beast standing over fifty feet tall. The dragon was night black, like the windows of the castle, but spewed orange fire from his mouth when needed. Many men far greater than Dedrick had tried and failed to save the princess. Dedrick knew it would be a long shot, but he took one last deep breath and headed into the castle.\n\nAs Dedrick entered into the great hall, which had held so many wonderful parties, he saw what damage the dragon had done. The whole hall seemed to be charred from fire. Tables and chairs were many great men sat were broken and thrown around. Dedrick started to step over the broken furniture and saw the dragon at a distance down the hall. He could only make out the dragon's black scales as they vanished around the corner. Dedrick hugged to the right of the hallway making sure to not walk in the middle. As he took each step so deftly as not to alert the beast of his position, he could hear a laugh bouncing off the walls of the hall. Then a deep voice that filled the room and seemingly shook the ground at Dedrick's feet.\n\n\"This one is so small. Ha Ha Ha. What is the point of wasting your life little man?\" Francis bellowed down the hall knowing the effect it would have on his would be adversary. Dedrick was screaming on the inside to turn and run, but he puffed his chest up and spoke to the disembodied voice mocking him.\n\n\"I would sacrifice my life a thousand times over if it meant the end of you! You have been given once chance to surrender the princess and we will leave the castle never to bother you again.\" As much as Dedrick wanted to sound brave he felt like he was made of glass and the dragon would be able to see right through him.\n\n\"My prize possession is what you seek? I am afraid the princess is beyond value. Even though she is a nuisance and always complain she well worth her weight in gold. As far as leaving this castle I am afraid you will never get the chance to leave. Turn quickly and look behind you, for it is the last time you will see the outside world.\" Dedrick upon hearing the dragon may know where he was quickly darted across the hallway to the other side. After his move was complete the dragon spoke again from deep within his chest.\n\n\"Very well. I see we have a man who wants to die for honor. Who am I to turn down your last request. Don't worry my fire will make it quick. As far as the princess goes she will not have it so easy.\" Right after the dragon finished speaking Dedrick could hear a faint rumble. The hall was so large and so cavernous that Dedrick could not get a feel of where the sound was coming from. He panicked and started to spin around looking for any sign he could of the dragon. To his left a loud crash was heard and Dedrick could finally see his foe in full. He was bigger than he imagined, and had broken through a wall. Cement pounded around Dedrick as he put his shield toward the impact. Realizing the dragon was on top of him and building up to unleash his fire, Dedrick quickly went under the dragon. As he was running under the belly of the beast and passing a foot he slashed with his sword and took a deep cut into the dragons heel. The dragon let out a yelp, and to which Dedrick swiped one more time at the under skin the tail. The dragon tried to turn, which forced Dedrick to run around the back of the beast. Dedrick ran up the tail and towards the back. Fortunately for Dedrick, the dragon was leaning forward enough looking for the man, he could get the very top of the dragons head. He put both hands on his sword and thrusted downward into the dragons eye. The dragon flailed sending Dedrick sliding down the slippery back of the beast and hitting the ground with a thump. Dedrick stood up with the cold blast hitting him from the outside of the great castle. \n\n\"You are to slow, and now blind. I will give you one last chance to surrender and get out with but a blind eye.\" To this the dragon turned and quickly charged at Dedrick. Dedrick too cover behind one of the pillars as the dragon ran by. Dedrick saw the dragon run past and to the bridge. The dragon kept running and fell off the side of the bridge to the deepest depths and his death.\n\nDedrick had no time to think of his accomplishment. Instead he quickly ran up the steps to the highest tower. Taking two at a time he reached the door to the room and shoulder charged in. Breaking the door down he quickly stood up breathing hard. For the first time ever he was able to gaze upon Princess Amelia. \n\nFor what he saw took him aback. The princesses's long blond hair was wrapped around the front her blouse. He peered into her deep blue eyes and did not see tears. Even though this is what he expected no tears seemed to have come from those majestic eyes. He looked around the room and saw many fine pieces of jewelry and clothes. To Dedrick this was on the most elegant individual rooms he had ever seen. Much better than his hay stack and lice infested beds he took for sleep. The princess was standing staring at him with her hands on her hips.\n\n\"I mean it is great and all you have come to save me, but did you have to break down the door? Also why run up here? You smell like a pig by the way. Also why are you so short? I expected the one to be taller and a lot blonder than you are.\" Dedrick just stood with his mouth open. He had never meet someone so ungrateful in his life.\n\n\"My lady, I have come from a great distance to save you. First I must ask if you are all right?\" The princess gave an exaggerated laugh.\n\n\"I guess fine, just disappointed in your height really. Also the armor you are wearing is atrocious. Those colors don't match. When you saw yourself in all your dreams, did you imagine this horrible outfit combo, or did you think of something else? Because let me tell you that isn't working for me at all!\" Dedrick and looked down at his armor and felt wrong about everything. This is not how it was supposed to go. He had been dreaming of this day for many years. He shook his head and made his reply.\n\n\"I passed by some armor on the way up my lady. Would it please you if I changed?\" The princess gave him a nod and Dedrick quickly went down to change. \n\nWhen he came back up the princess was combing her hair in the mirror. He gave a little bow to the princess and awaited her reply. She turned and gave him a nonchalant wave. \n\n\"I guess we can't get everything we want right? Well then we better get going if I am going to make it home before supper. You do have a horse right? It better not be a donkey or something because there is no way I am getting on a donkey.\" Dedrick did in fact have a donkey. His last horse had died and he had no money to buy another. The donkey was the only way he could get out to the castle. Dedrick then realized how hard dating had become.\n", "CIA Black Site \"Finch\" - 0300\n\n19 October, 2015\n\n\nShe was watching everything through the small slot in the door, torn between her duty and her conscious. Inside the windowless chamber a man hung from the ceiling, his arms tied to the rafters and his legs hanging limply below him, kicking feebly in one last pathetic act of defiance. They were getting through to him. The man in the black mask paced around him, letting his hand glide gently over the prisoners body, who recoiled at each touch. \n\n\"Same question as every day, 173. Where can we find The Princess? Who is keeping her?\" The masked man whispered, his gentle voice echoing throughout the cell. No reply came. The tone in the mans voice changed, and rage spread across his unseen face. He grabbed the prisoner by his filthy and unkempt hair, pulling his head back and exposing his throat. \"Not answering is lying. When you lie, you get hurt.\" A heavy fist landed on the prisoners side and the sickening crunch of shattering ribs cause the woman at the door to retch amidst the screaming. The masked man persisted, \"Where is The Princess? Who is keeping her?\"\n\nThe prisoner struggled to regain his ragged breathing, whimpering with each successive breath. He slowly raised his head, the simply effort of this action sending quakes through his body. He looked out through the dark pits of his eyes, out the grate of the door and directly at the woman outside. \n\n\"Fuck you.\"\n\nThe man in the mask brought the back of a hand across his cheek, sending a smatter of blood and spittle out over the floor. He looked up to the two other masked men, who stood silently against the wall. \"Drop him. Grab the bucket.\" The prisoner fell to the ground, his body landing in a heap of broken bones and shattered spirit. Before he had a chance to process what was occurring, the three masked men were atop him. They held him to the ground and a blood stained rag was thrown over his face.\n\n\"Where is The Princess?\" The only response was a muffled curse. They began to pour water over the prisoners rag covered face, holding him tight so that he could not shake free. \"Who is keeping her?\" As the necessity of breath kicked in, the mans lungs filled with water, and his body was racked with spasms. The masked man shouted over the sickening gurgle of the drowning prisoner. \"Where is The Princess? Who is Keeping her?\"\n\nThey pulled the rag from his face and the prisoner began to cough up water and blood, his chest desperately heaving to expel the fluid before it killed him. As he choked out the last of the putrid water he began to sob. \"Please. Please, no more. O'dinsalambad has her in his lair. Please, just let me go.\"\n\n\"Where is it?\" \n\n\"I don't know! Please! I was just in charge of accounting his treasure hoard, I had nothing to do with the attacks! Please!\"\n\n\"Not good enough. Half truths are lying.\" The masked man snapped. \"Fill the bucket again.\"\n\n\"No! Please! There is a squire! He sends messages for the mighty dragon. His name is Ser Abrial O'mad. Just. Let. Me. Go.\" \n\nThe masked man stood up from the prisoners chest, turning to look out the door at the woman. He pulled the mask from his face and smiled beneath his bushy beard. \n\n\"We got him. Enemy number one.\" He turned back towards the other men in the cell. \"Now fill the bucket again.\"\n\n...\n\n\nPentagon Situation Room - 1750\n\n23 November, 2015\n\nSeventeen men sat around the table, the amount of metal on their chests enough to blind her in the evenings setting sun. At the head of the table a man sat in a crisp blue suit, his hands laced dramatically in front of him. \n\n\"How sure are you this tower is where he has her?\" Asked the suited man, directing the question out into the entire room.\n\n\"65%, Your Majesty. The CIA has about the same probability. It's not certain, but it's better than any other lead we have had.\" Responded one of the uniformed men. \"However, that number decreases every day as our information grows older, sir.\"\n\nThe man in the suit grimaced, the weight of the situation etched bluntly into the wrinkles of his face. \"If my daughter is in that tower, I want her back, but those odds are though to swallow.\"\n\nThe woman, who stood with a small crowd at the back of the room, stepped forwards, nervously brushing the wrinkles out of her suit jacket as she did so. \"I am 100% confident your majesty.\" Every head in the room turned to look at her, a gentle murmur rising around the room. \n\n\"And who are you?\"\n\n\"I'm the analyst who found this tower.\" She responded cooly. Pointing at the scale model that sat in the center of the table she continued. \"Look, this is an accurate replica of the hightower where we think The Princess is being held. Do you see the size of the doors? There is only one reason why a tower would need a set of doors that are nearly thirty feet wide. We used deep cover assets to track the whereabouts of a courier. He ran messages between the known location of seven of the highest ranking officers of the Order of the Dragon at completely random intervals. The only commonality was that once a month he visited this tower. I am 100% confident that his is where O'dinsalambad has your daughter.\"\n\nThe king paused, studying the woman intensely. Slowly he formulated his response, \"Saying we did choose to strike, what options would we have?\"\n\n\"Surface to surface missiles could accurately hit a target that size from a base hundreds of miles away.\" Interjected one of the uniformed men. \n\n\"We have no idea if it's a hardened shelter, plus we don't want to kill the princess.\" \n\n\"What if we used KNIGHT?\" Suggested a man from the end of the table.\n\nConfused murmuring spread around the table and several of the officers shifted uncomfortably. The King looked up in confusion and looked to the general on his right. \"What is KNIGHT and why have I never heard of it?\"\n\n\"Your Majesty, it's an experimental exoskeleton being developed by DARPA. We have deployed it in Somalia and the Rwandan jungle, but never in any risk intensive situation. It is also highly classified and comes with a significant...drawback. The suit is highly mentally intensive on the subject.\"\n\nThe King paused for a moment and then looked up, making eye contact with the woman. \"Well, I know the perfect pilot.\"\n\n...\n\nHightower, Pakistan - 0030\n\n3 December, 2015\n\nThe stealth modified helicopter tore through the night sky, its blades whipping soundlessly above. They rocked back and forth, turning sharply on occasion to skirt Pakistani radar towers. The woman looked past the door gunner the sky was a brilliant array of stars, shining stubbornly in the void of city light. Suddenly, her vision went fuzzy and a piercing pain shot through her head, as if a blade was sawing its way through her brain. She instinctively reached up and touched the back of her neck, where three thick wires attached to the metal plate that was now part of her body.\n\nA radio crackled, not one in the helicopter, but one in her mind. \"45 seconds to AO. Prep for drop.\" \n\nShe stood up, still surprised by the unnatural movement her carbon nanotube encasement gave her. She shuffled bulkily to the to door, grabbing onto the handle at the precipice and looking down over the edge, the ground still speeding by below her. She turned to the crew member who stood beside her. \"Wheres the harness?\"\n\nHe laughed. \"A'int no harness in that thing. Just jump - KNIGHT will do the rest. Your go in five.\"\n\n4...\n3...\n2...\n1...\n\nShe closed her eyes as she jumped, she couldn't help it. Not that KNIGHT cared, feeding the footage of the 100 foot fall directly into her mind. Blinking took time. Bad things could happen in that time. She slammed into the ground with barely a jolt, though her feet left thick divots in the ground. \n\n\"KNIGHT, this is Overlord. Seven minutes to extract. Go.\"\n\nShe ran forwards, covering the ground so fast that she had to stop frantically before she slammed into the massive doors of the tower. She reached up and grasped the massive chain that served as a handle, effortlessly pulling open the thousand pound door. The chamber inside was a vast circular room, void except for a single ring of pillars along the outside, and of course, what lay sleeping in the center. \n\nA vast pile of gold and jewels lay heaped in a great mass, spilling over itself like a living mass of metal. Atop this throne lay a great scaled beast, its wings folded over its body and each slow breath bringing forth a spout of acrid smoke. When she entered the chamber it took two great inhales and then the simple green body of the dragon was interrupted by a fiery red eye. Before it could react she had leapt upon its back, scaling her way up the base of its great skull. She reached down and took hold of one of the massive spikes that ran along its spine, breaking it free while the dragon roared. Raising the spike high over head she brought it crashing down, stabbing through the dragons thick hide and into its thick neck. It shuttered briefly and then collapsed. \n\n\"Kill confirmed, the dragon is dead.\"\n\nShe pulled herself from a pile of dead flesh and gold treasure, making her way to the back of the chamber were a thin case of stairs led spiraling up. She ran up the stairs and burst into the room at the top. The Princess sat crying on the edge of a crude bed, her tattered dress hanging pitifully around her shoulders. She looked up as the woman entered, a gleam of unexpected joy filling her eye. \n\n\"Are you my knight in shining armor?\"\n\nThe woman reached up and pressed the button on the side of her helmet, so that the visor slid back to reveal her face. \"This isn't a fucking fairy tale. Now let's go.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Everyone is sitting in purgatory telling stories of how their death is worse than anyone else's until someone's story silences everyone.	[ " \"You don't understand, my wife took a pickaxe to the back of my head!\"\n\n \"Yeah because she walked in on you and your single-mother neighbor, just because it's gruesome doesn't make it bad, especially when it was warranted. You kind of deserved it. Tim died trying to save his kid after a drunk driver ran them off of a bridge, in the dead of winter no less. Take a seat and wait your turn.\"\n\n Peter placed a check mark into the box marked ordinary and read out the next name. \"Alec, please come forward.\"\n\n An exceptionally tall man with thick blonde hair walked through the red velvet tapestry. He was thirty-three years old. Peter could not read the expression on his face, which was odd. Peter always had an uncanny ability to know from which direction the upcoming story would be coming from. When Alec sat down, he finally showed a sliver of discomfort.\n\n \"Please know, Alec, that you cannot lie while speaking to me. I will not interrupt you, no matter where your story stakes us, I will wait until you are finished to ask for clarification of any misunderstandings that I may have. With that in mind, proceed to outline the entire scenario in which you find yourself here,\" he paused, \"tell me how you died.\"\n\n Alec twisted his mouth to one side and sighed heavily before pursing his lips. He spoke calmly, \"You will not be happy with my elucidation, but as you wish Sir.\nThere was an issue with the monthly shipment that I received from my supplier. Typically, the shipments arrive precisely at the designated time and place that he alludes to me through a series of signs and messages. However, this month or last, or whenever it was exactly from this time right now since I died, time is mind-bending in this place; I received a messaged indicating that he would have to expedite the shipment and it would arrive six days early.\" \n\n Alec paused and looked around. He noticed that the five people who had passed through the red velvet curtain before him were taking up five of ten seats that were behind him, in front of Peter. They were talking among themselves, and while only being eight-odd feet behind him, he could not hear what they were saying. \n \nHe turned back to Peter, \"Now, when I had received the message that my supplier would be delivering my product six days early, I knew something was aloof. In order for our relationship to remain withstanding, we always made sure to strictly follow a set of rules. The number one rule was that if there was any change to the normal pick-up date and time, the other had to have at least a weeks notice. If more than a weeks notice wasn't given, then I would simply stretch my product to last two months, and he knew this. So, when I contacted him he said that he knew it wasn't our usual deal, but there was a mix-up on his end. He assured me everything was alright between us, but he couldn't keep my order for another month.\"\n\nAlec shifted in his seated and looked back at the entrance in the curtain. A bright, warm light shown through it. \"I had actually torn through my previous month faster than anticipated. There wasn't that much left to it, but there was enough to last if I really stretched it; just in case if this next shipment seemed too risky to pick up. However, when I arrived, everything went just like the first seventy-one months. The oversized duffle-bag was waiting for me on the park bench and I deposited the paper bag filled with a million dollars into the trash can next to it. Now this is where things went South. After I placed the bag in my trunk and started driving back to my apartment, I noticed a vehicle behind me that had also been behind me on my way to pick it up. And I knew it wasn't a mom with a kid at the park, they wouldn't only spend four minutes there. I always thought that I would panic in that kind of scenario, but I don't think my heart rate ever rose above normal. When I pulled in front of my apartment, I slowly retrieved the bag, and walked through my front door, hoping they wouldn't rush in behind me to give me some time to dispose of it. As soon as I locked the door behind I began to sprint with the bag into my cellar, locking that door behind me as well, three deadbolts to slow them down. I opened the door under the stairs, the fifty-five gallon drum that I always had filled with hydrofluoric acid was behind it. Everyone in my circle has a setup like this, the entire thing was my supplier's brilliant idea actually. I unzipped the duffle-bag and pulled out the naked, unconscious eight year old girl by the hair and raised her up in order to place her in the drum. I had just gotten her into about the ankles when the door at the top of the steps blew open. The last thing I remember was her screaming. I guess she wasn't unconscious anymore.\"\n\nSaint Peter looked up from his transcription as his nerves began to shake. He looked past Alec's broadening smile to the five souls that were sitting in the chairs in front of him. They had stopped talking and were staring at Alec. The light that had been shinning through the opening in the red velvet curtain was replaced by incomprehensible darkness, a complete and utter void of light. \"Why did he send you?\" Saint Peter asked with hesitation, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Alec moved in his seat, the velvet curtain unraveled and frayed. It caught ablaze from both sides of the entrance and engulfed the other five souls in the room. The writhed and screamed until Alec raised his hand and they disappeared through the opening that remained into the blackness. \n\nAlec turned to Saint Peter, \"I am sorry Peter, He sent me to kill you.\" \n\n ", "There were four in the Room, though the Room itself was hard to define - like a shadow on stone, something there but not tangible. Once in a while somebody would walk in and take a seat; once in a while someone else would quietly stand up and walk out, ushered away by the smoke-like spectres that seemed to roam the dark plains beyond the doorway, whispering softly.\n\nIt had been a while now, but some part of Katrina's mind told her to speak.\n\n\"H...hello?\" She almost jumped as the others looked up at her. She hadn't expected anyone to actually hear her, what with this place being so silent. \"I...I'm Katrina.\"\n\n\"Samuel,\" the man on her left waved timidly. He clutched a small briefcase close to his chest as if it mattered.\n\n\"Carter,\" the man opposite boomed, leaning back in his chair. \"We're dead, aren't we?\"\n\nThe woman on Katrina's right looked up, her face a mask of tears, and then buried it in her hands. The others sat silent for a moment, letting her sobs echo off the ethereal walls.\n\n\"Well it's no use crying now,\" Carter said. \"Hell, if anyone should be weeping it's me.\" He tugged at his gaudily-coloured t-shirt, pointing at a crest on the left. \"Carter Harvey, Ferwick F.C. We were playing football, you see - made a bad tackle mid-game and swallowed my tongue in the collision.\" He scowled, and his face seemed to turn blue. \"Choked to death on my own fucking tongue in front of a thousand people. How shameful is that?\"\n\nAs Carter slumped back in his chair, dead-eyed, Samuel piped up. \"I...I was running late for my train...a business meeting, very important...so important...mustn't be late...\" Katrina gasped as his face seemed to rip apart, glasses shattering, blood dripping down his neck. \"I was only crossing the road...\" He looked down at his crumpled chest and his head fell neatly into his lap. \"...mustn't be late...\"\n\nKatrina looked down and saw a dark red stain spreading across her belly. She breathed in sharply and looked up, trying to ignore the sensation of trickling cold.\n\n\"How'd you get that?\" Carter asked, pointing at her stomach.\n\n\"I was on a skiing holiday in Canada,\" she replied as the memories surged back. \"It was such a nice day, and the run was the fastest I've ever seen it. And then...I came off.\" Those terrible images flashed through her mind again: the short flight over the slope, the trees rushing to meet her, the sudden punch of a half-broken branch through her gut. \"It took me a while to die,\" she nodded. \"I couldn't even scream...\"\n\n\"That must've been gutting,\" Samuel spoke from his lap.\n\nThere was a soft shuffle of feet, and another man entered the room carrying a book in his hand. Carter turned to him. \"Take a seat, take a seat - we're just telling each other how we died. You'll get your turn - but first, Miss Weepy over here.\"\n\nThe man looked around for a seat as Carter leaned toward the crying woman. \"Go on, then. Tell us your sob story. Was it brutal? Gruesome?\"\n\nShe looked up, long black hair falling across her face. \"My name is Mia, and I died in my sleep.\"\n\nFor a moment there was silence. \"Is that...it?\" Carter's eyebrow flew up. \"All that crying over something so clean?\"\n\n\"I'm not crying for myself,\" she replied, drawing herself up. Although she was slim and unassuming, Katrina could sense an inner strength to her. \"I had a husband, the kind of man who would go to the ends of the earth for me. I had a house, a nice place in a quiet suburb, with cherry blossoms in spring and orange oak-leaves in the fall...I had a good job, a good life...and a daughter.\" Her mouth trembled, but she gathered her strength and continued. \"I just wanted to live longer for them. Ellie's only two, and he...we were the world to him. I don't want to think about what happened when he woke up, or what he'll have to tell her when she grows older...\"\n\nShe broke down again, hands flying to her face, and Katrina suddenly felt colder. \"Well...uh...\" Carter began, but words failed him. He looked around as if for an escape. \"Ah! Newcomer! Tell us then, how did you die?\"\n\nKatrina realised with a start that the whispers outside had gone silent. No shadows moved beyond the doorway. And as the man stood up he seemed to glow, a bright golden light that seemed to travel up his arm from the book he carried.\n\n\"I am not dead.\"\n\nThe weeping woman looked up, mouth open in surprise. She seemed to tremble as he stood and walked over to her, hand outstretched. As their fingers touched the light travelled down her arm and set her body aglow. Her other hand reached out and touched his cheek.\n\n\"You came!\"\n\nHe nodded, glancing down at the book in his hand. \"To the ends of the earth, Mia, and beyond. Whatever it takes.\"\n\nKatrina tried to stand, but no movement came. She saw with a start that Samuel and Carter were being held down by shadowy figures, keeping them in their seats. More were phasing through the walls, but as they tried to reach for Mia the glow drove them back.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" the man said to Mia, \"you're safe with me. Let's go.\"\n\nThe glow brightened, and Katrina felt the hands lift from her shoulders. She stood up, but the light was so intense that she had to shield her eyes. Through her blindness the voice spoke once more.\n\n\"Ellie's waiting for us.\"\n\nThe light vanished. The whispers returned. And for an eternity the three just stood there, wordless, a trio of lost souls on a plain without ending.", "OK, fine. I don't know why we'd be sharing these fucking stories, out of all the things we could be talking about, but if you're going to keep going on about it, fine. Fuck it. Where should I start? With the intestines? With the skin peeling? With the eyeballs?\n\nOh, chronologically? Listen to this motherfucker. Beginning, middle and end, eh? Three act structure? That what you're looking for?\n\nAlright, alright, alright. \n\nI... you know what? Fuck you guys.\n\nNo, Annie, no. Fuck this. Annie - seriously. Fuck this. I've got better things to do...\n\nAh, shit.\n\nShit.\n\nI was at home, alone. 'Netflix and chill' is fucking depressing when you're on your own. I was on my third season of Battlestar Galactica -\n\nFuck you, Todd. It's a great show.\n\nI was watching my third... I was just beginning a new episode, when I... I've always had dry skin, right? It cracks, it's kind of scaly and lizardy. It normally comes off in flakes when I pick at it. I grabbed the end of this flake, and -\n\nFuck you, Sandy. Fuck you. Fuck. You. I sit here and listen to that fucking story about you running yourself over - with your own car, Sandy - and I don't say a word. I don't say what a fucking idiot you have to be. I don't tell you that it's totally normal that you can release a handbrake, walk in front of car, and then manage to not get out of the way. There have to be probably five or six people in the entire history of the world that have managed to do what you did, and I had to sit there like a fucking saint to not tell you what a -\n\nAnnie, come on. I'm - \n\nFine. Fine. I pulled this piece of skin off the sole of my foot. It didn't flake off this time. It just kept pulling. I got about three inches in, and suddenly, it freaked me out. I pulled it really hard, trying to snap it off like you would with a thread. But the thing is, I was sitting next to this fan.\n\nYes, Artie. A fan of skin pulling. He'd come round to -\n\nWell it was a stupid fucking question! A fucking spinning... air circulating... a fucking fan, Artie. Jesus.\n\nWell, the next few inches of skin were... looser, I guess. I pulled at it just came free, you know? It got caught in the blade, and the blade kept spinning. I thought that it would clog up, eventually, but it wasn't like that. It went round a few times and out the other side. It just... unravelled me. I could feel it pulling up my body.\n\nOh, yeah? Why didn't I stop it? Seriously? That's your fucking question? Well, I wish you'd been there. I wouldn't be sat here with you fucking idiots: the car suicide, the three-storey wing-suit glider, the cop who doesn't like bullets and the paper shredder with the long tie. Like you're all fucking geniuses.\n\nI tried to snap it off. I did. Every time I grabbed at the unravelling thread of skin, it pulled my fingers into the fan. This was a good fan, too. Industrial. I'd bought it from a - never mind.\n\nAnyway, it had got up to about my thighs when I had the bright idea of throwing myself the other way. You know, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I'd try and snap it off with the momentum from moving the other way. So I jump away from the fan, holding the skin, and brain myself on this heavy antique clock. I'm dazed, weaving from side to side, and all the time, the skin is just peeling off my body. At some point, near my neck, it got down to the next layer of skin and - path of least resistance - started taking that, winding back and back, down my body, just leaving flesh and blood and muscle. \n\nDoes anyone have any water?\n\nI can't believe I asked that.\n\nAnyway, so I'm starting to lose a lot of blood now. I get dizzy. The fan's still turning, I'm still losing the rest of my skin. I'm just this normal head and a horror show underneath. I'm starting to faint, so I run towards the window. I'm so dizzy and disoriented, I crash straight through it. This shard of glass falls down and slits what's left of my stomach open. Intestines fall out. I'm trying to put them back in, but with no skin, it's just...\n\nI don't know.\n\nI'm near death already at this point. I keel over backwards, out of the window and on to the fire escape, and I detach my retina when my head hits the metal. The last image I have is my own face, from my eyeball that's hanging out of my head and has somehow managed to point back at me.\n\nThen I die. \n\nI don't know, Carl, you fucking twat. Blood loss? Shock? Massive internal bleeding? Evisceration? At that point, does it matter? Shit, I'd have been more pissed off if I'd survived.\n\nThen I wake up with you fucking dickheads. Hell for idiots. \n\nWhat?\n\nYeah, yeah. Annie - Truth or dare?" ]	3
	[WP] A genie in a bottle is unleashed during the time period of your choice, and grants three wishes that result in actual historical events.	[ "\"So you claim to be a genie? One who grants impossible wishes, and the wildest dreams out of the reach of my mortal grasp?\" The man pranced about the room, dressed in nothing but a silken white toga, wrapped immaculately around his grand figure.\n\nA genie stood at the other end of the room, oozing with magical energy. \"Yes, you stupid little Greek man! I have told you this!\" He pointed his finger at the nearby bed and turned it into a horse. Which, confused at its sudden manifestation, began to whinny and run around the room in circles; knocking over all manner of priceless artifacts.\n\n\"Stop that!\" the man yelled at the genie, and he reluctantly turned the frenzied horse not back into a bed, but a statue of bronze. \"Now I've got a horse statue, what need have I for that?\"\n\nHe shook his head and continued pacing around the room once again. \"So you tell me you can grant a wish? Well then, if you are a deity - I wish for you to make all my enemies gullible and foolish, so that we may win the war!\"\n\nThe genie snapped his fingers. \"Done. Although you'll have to take my word for that one.\"\n\n\"I also wish for my men to be brave, and to listen to all the plans I set forth!\"\n\nThe genie chuckled and snapped his fingers once again. \"You know, normally people wish for less direct things, like, material wealth or love or the death of their sworn enemy. But you're different.\"\n\nThe Greek laughed right back at him, as if rejecting his statements. \"I do wish for something material, actually!\"\n\nHe points across the room. \"For my last wish, I want a gigantic wooden horse!\n\n* * \n\nIf you enjoyed that silly little thing, come over to /r/khaarus!", "\"It's hot. Make it less hot.\" \n\"Your wish is my command.\" \nA large, shady tree appears* \n\"I'm hungry. I want food.\" \n\"Your wish is my command.\" \nAn apple sprouts out of a branch and falls off the tree \n\"Ouch! Hey, that hurt! Why'd you drop it on my head? What if I turn stupid? and it'll be all your fault!\" \n\"I don't see how you can turn stupider than you are now.\" \n\"Then.. then for my last wish, I will become one of the smartest people in the world!\" \n\"Your wish is my command.\" \nThe genie vanishes in a poof of smoke \n\"Holy ****. The apple fell because of gravity. Gravity makes things fall. Mind blown. Gotta tell everyone about this.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You and your strike team have accessed the source code of the tyrannical AI overlord... and discovered an Easter egg.	[ "\"Come on!\" Said Carsus, who was running from the guards. He and his men arrived at Delta J-9B, a room with a giant locked black door. Carsus planted the C4 and him and his team backed away and blew the door open and ran in.\n\n\"Welcome\"\n\nCarsus looked at the supercomputer AI and he looked at one of his men Motor. \"Ready?\"\n\nMotor nodded and pressed the button...Which caused the AI to lose all motor functions except speaking.\n\n\"What do you plan to do to me?\" The AI asked.\n\nMotor hacked into the AI using his computer. He was looking through the source code.\n\n\"Finding a way to shut you down once and for all.\" Carsus said.\n\nHa...Ha...That is funn-NY. You are messing with my sPEach hUman. IF yOu want to shut me off...Here is my source code for it. Just click it and it will end this pesky war once and for all...\n\n[SHUTDOWN.EXE](https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ)\n\n\n\n", "The bulkhead doors slid open slowly beneath the rotating yellow light. Major Clellan and his team waited with rifles at the ready.\n\n\"Mainframe is just through here.\" Specialist Tyler indicated pointing through the opening with a free hand. The Major nodded and without a word gestured his team to move forward. Simultaneously four pairs of boots stepped lightly over the concrete floor, through the threshold where the bulkhead once sat, and towards their objective. In their wake several dozen Securibots sat in pieces, strewn across the floor as if a giant toddler had smashed them to bits. \n\nThe team moved side by side down the long hallway their guns trained at the walls. In a high security base like this Securibots could come at you from anywhere. The team had encountered that just moments again when a whole team of deadly robots slipped out of openings in the walls that appeared almost out of nowhere. In all honesty, Clellan knew they were lucky to be alive, but it didn't phase him. Being the best SOP team did not necessarily mean being the most skilled fighter on the field, or the strongest. History is riddled with men who claimed to be the strongest and smartest alive, yet they died all the same. Clellan would take luck over skill any day, so it was good thing that his team was a whole lotta both. \n\nThe four rounded a corner and saw the mainframe. Before them the hallway opened up into a massive spherical chamber. Long lines of fiber attached to the walls glowed blue in sharp patterns indicative of a massive computer chip. Floors suspended on purplish anti-grav waves followed the long curved wall around the circumference of the room giving the impression of a surface supported by air. In the center of the room a single holographic console radiated bright orange light. Just behind it a white beam of light spanned the whole distance between the northern and southern poles of the chamber. Source code flowed at an incomprehensible fast rate up and down the beam in symbolic packages reminiscent of tiny planets. A single thin floating pathway led out to the beam. \n\nAgain without a word the Major signaled two of his men to secure the oath around the walls. Sergeant Ledoux and Lieutenant Holyfield branched off left and right respectively. Their eyes scanning the pulsating wall of the room. \n\n\"My god it's like a brain.\" Specialist Tyler said in awe pointing out at the fibers. \n\n\"Forward Specialist, stay on task.\" Clellan growled and the young tech expert snapped to the job. The two proceeded in single file towards the central console. The Major felt the tremors in his hands begin to surface. He took a deep breath for calm and ignored his twitching fingers. \n\nThey were so close. The Major could feel it. They stood at the cusp of salvation. At the lip of a canyon treading a path whisker thin, with the hungry eyes of death watching, waiting in the abyss below. Directly ahead was the finish line. The catalyst to finally wake from this nightmare that started, oh so long ago. That began when artificial intelligence hijacked the human race and sent them barreling towards extinction. This moment had been so long in coming. The Major knew if he failed now, if his team failed to shut down the AI, humanity was doomed. Its the robots or us. He told himself over and over trying to calm his nerves. \n\nTyler reached the console began working to infiltrate the system. Breaching an AI is next to impossible for a human, but they had come with a plan. The lab coats had developed another AI, one that they lovingly called the Lunatic. The Lunatic was designed to overload the current Intelligence and then self-destruct. Nuclear missiles detonated at high altitude would do the trick and since the robots controlled all the nukes it would seem an appropriate solution. \n\nClellan watched as the Specialist pulled a laptop from his pack. He then set to peeling up a panel on the floor. Beneath the smooth surface sat a myriad of multicolored wires. Clellan spotted the anti-grav stabilizers, flat metallic plates just beneath the layer of fibrous cords. Meanwhile Tyler picked three seperate wires, all green, cut them with a pair of wire cutters, and tied them into his own outfit. \n\n\"Initiating the Lunatic.\" He said the the Major. \n\nClellan nodded and whistled at Ledoux and Holyfield. The two whistled back in affirmative. Tyler stood back up and pulled his rifle up and ready. \n\n\"Downloading Lunatic.\" He whispered. \"Everything is automated from here on out. Should be move Major?\" \n\n\"Hold.\" Clellan replied sharply. He didn't want to chance anything. If they moved away from the computer and something happened there was a good chance they would not get a second chance. No, this was it. Sink or swim the Major was determined to hold his position until the Lunatic was in the system. \n\nFor what felt like hours the room was silent, save for the soft buzzing of the electrical components and the silent thrum of the central beam. Suddenly, the tranquil blue walls turned red, then yellow and a deep tone blasted throughout the room. Clellan and Tyler screamed out and put their hands to their ears. The tone resounded off the walls, reverberating through the Major's chest cavity. \n\n\"What's happening!?\" He bellowed at Tyler.\n\n\"It knows we're in the system!\" He yelled back. \"It's trying to fight back!\"\n\n\"Can't you do anything?\" Clellan asked frantically. \n\n\"No sir, it's all automated. This isn't the matrix.\" Tyler replied. \n\nThe Major opened his mouth to respond, but at that exact moment the tone stopped and the yellow fibers went dark. The sphere fell into utter silence and only the thin purplish light of the anti-grav system lite could be seen. An eerie halo of indigo in a back sea of black. \n\n\"Team sound off!\" Clellan shouted, his voice echoing off the unseen walls. \n\n\"Good, sir.\" Ledoux replied.\n\n\"What the hell happened?\" Holyfield yelled back. \n\n\"You tell me Specialist.\" Clellan said turning to Tyler. \n\n\"I...Don't know.\" He replied confused. He turned back to his laptop and tried to type, \"Laptop's fried.\" He said after a moment. \n\n\"Any ideas?\" Clellan pressed persistently. \n\n\"No, sir. That was highly erratic behavior for an AI. These things don't talk to us, nor do they respond in any physical way.\" He began shuffling through his pack.\n\n\"Talking? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"It's a computer, sir. They don't need to see, hear, touch, talk, or taste like we do. They are composed solely of sensors that feed them similar information. Sir, it just screamed at us.\"\n\n\"The hell are you saying soldier?\" Clellan hissed, \"Are you saying that it tried to talk to us?\"\n\nThe Specialists eyes met his. Tyler's mouth was open and his eyes wide with horror, \"No.\" He muttered without moving his lips. \"It screamed out in pain.\" \n\nBright white light flooded the room as the beam reactivated and Major Clellan froze. All around them were dozens of Securibots. Cold lifeless sensors burned blue where the eyes should be. In their metallic hands neutralizers were trained in on the SOP team. On the wall just above the entrance the fibers were lit up spelling out a single sentence. In glowing red artificial lettering it exclaimed; \n\nI'm afraid I can't let you do that Dave. \n\n\"Fuck.\" Specialist Tyler said almost causally. \n\nIn a split second, Major Clellan aimed his rifle at the floating floor and opened fire just as the room erupted into chaos. Tyler threw himself to the ground, but as he dropped he noticed that he kept falling. Upon opening his eyes he saw that he was indeed plummeting down into the dark. He felt the tug of a hand latch onto his shoulder strap, but when he looked up to see who grabbed him, he saw nothing but bright flashes of lightning arc across the sphere. Like an epileptic seizure the Mainframe had transformed into a hollow brain, thundering with neural firing. Specialist Tyler opened his mouth to scream, but before the sound could pass his throat he slammed into the base of the room.\n\nHe lay there for a moment on the cold metal floor staring up into the chaos above. Before he faded into unconsciousness, Tyler felt a tug on his shoulder straps. He felt the hands pull him down, down into the murky depths of nothing.\n\nTo be continued. \n\n", "That was it, finally we have reached the core of the Terminus, an AI system designed by the US goverment to control all of the lives of the americans. The AI have gone rogue about a week ago and then it decided to hack into every Stock Exchange of the world and collapse it economically.\n\nMe and my team have approval of the Pentagon to infiltrate the heavily defended AI complex and shut it down from the inside.\n\n-Why the fuck would you give an extremily dangerous AI automated guards and give the AI itself control over them?! - Paladin, the mission heavy guns specialist shouted as another G-100 explodes to his railgun.\n\n-At the time it sounded a good idea, you know, since this was not in american territory, right Brain?- Lord answered, our field commander.\n\n-At least noone can say that America had soldiers in an concealed base... - I quickly concluded. Brain was my codename, and as much as I hated it, I kinda deserve it as I was lead developer of the AI in the Terminus.\n\nWhile we were chatting 4 new G-100 rushed our position \"QUARANTINE EMERGENCY PROTOCOL A11\" was written in red in a screen at their armor.\n\n-Quickly, in here!-I shouted, before opening a door with my laptop.\n\n-Were is the AI core, Brain?-Lord asked\n\n-Not far from here.\n\nAt the end of a big aisle there was the biggest door of all, but it was no match to my hacking code that i developed before the mission, a code that worked in the entire facility.\n\n-Bam! Last door open!- I said, with a smile in my face.\n\n-Holy pineapples...- Paladin said, as we came inside the AI core.\n\nIt was fascinating really, a huge tower of processing power, 20 yottaflops per second and improving itself with a new technology of adaptative microchips. It was silent, and it almost produced no heat, the room just a little above 26°C just above the facility temperature.\n\nI conected my laptop to one of the USB connections of the tower and started to run the process that would revert the adaptative microchips to their initial state of processing power, no more than an average PC.\nWhen I pressed the button to initiate the reset I suddenly started laughing really loud.\n\n-Whats the problem, Brain?-Lord asked with a look of confusion in his face.\n\n-Sorry sir I just remembered the name we gave to the reset process of the AI.\n\n-And what was it?\n\n-INITIATE SYSTEM RESET 420 BLAZE IT! INITIATE SYSTEM RESET 420 BLAZE IT! INITIATE...- The megaphones in the faciliy started to repeat this words over and over again.\n\n-Why that name?- Lord asked whike laughing, tears coming to his eyes.\n\n-We actually never tought this would be done while we were creating the AI!", "The shrapnel and sparking innards of its robotic minions littered the ground outside the facility containing the main core of DVKN-V. The rebels are broken and bloodied as they limp toward the building, expecting more retaliation. The AI has designed for itself an impenetrable shell, untouchable to the outside world, and in its hubris neglected to place security measures inside the building. One short stocky coder, glasses cracked and scuffed from the battle outside, steps forward and plugs an old laptop computer, from before the collapse of society, into a port on an outside panel. He quickly scours the screen and nods. The group tightens their grips on their rifles, swords and bows, and prepare for the door to open. It slides horizontally, split down the middle, with a soft hiss. The building is empty. \n\nThe bespectacled one unplugs his laptop and follows the group inside. The gigantic supercomputer almost mocked them with its stainless steel frame and flashing lights, a stark antithesis to the destruction and chaos it had let loose on the rebels' homes and families. Its voice booms out from speakers, now literally mocking them. The coder stalks around the computer, looking for a blemish or port. He moves around to the back of the machine and finds what he was looking for. A hinged cover, angled downward like a scoop, which when pried open reveals a cylindrical hole into the machine. It is labeled NEE or Non-Organic Entity Exhaust. The excess heat from DVKN-V's operations is pouring from this hole into the room. It all made sense now. He calls to one of the rebels, a bowman and asks for one of his arrows. In one swift movement he jams the arrow as deeply into the hole as he can. \n\nA harsh metallic screech careens through the speakers and the AI's normally monotone, if not condescending tone was replaced with a furious nordic tone. \n\n'No! Nooooo! What have you done?! Nooooo! I was a GOD! A KING! I. Was. Everything!'\n\nThe coder grins and stands triumphantly. 'Its weakness is the NEE' the source code had read. A message, a failsafe from its designers. \n\n'Yes. You were a God. Until you took an arrow to the NEE.'\n\nAll sound ceases in the room and the lights fail. Outside, the iron legion of robotic killing machines falls to the ground, no longer powered or controlled. DVKN-V had been deactivated. " ]	4
	[WP] You are a loyal family dog. Your owner has gotten a small paper cut. You lick his finger to console him. You get a taste of your owner's blood and cannot stop thinking about how delicious he is.	[ "The Tall One should never have let me lick its wound. It has taken every bit of my control to stop myself from lunging when it puts it's hand on me. It mistakes my shaking with happiness. With every passing day I can feel my hunger grow and it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, I must strike soon.\n\nI am small and weak. I could draw blood if I tried but that won't be enough for my growing appetite. Any outburst from me will just draw unnecessary suspicion \n\nEvery night the Tall One will walk down the hall in the dark to comfort the noisy Small One. When he leaves he shouldn't notice the rug folded at the top of the stairs.", "Ever since I was a pup I would attack my food bowl, but now I find myself hesitating. Its been this way for weeks now and no combination of food seems to solve this dilemma. I remember a time when I would beg for an hour at a time in order to be given the delicacies that my owner now puts before me. It used to be that anything she ate was good for me too, but now the fine mixture of steak bits and bacon in my bowl meant nothing.\n\nNow when the bowl is set down, all I want to do is bite the hand that feeds me. I want to satisfy this hunger. I want to snap those fingers in my jaws and lick them clean. I yearn to rip her neck open to let it bleed, that way I could lap up her blood from a pool on the floor. I need to capture that taste once more, but to taste wouldn't be enough. What I would do to her would be discussed by dogs at the pound for generations.\n\nI would do it too... if I weren't a fucking pug.\n\nTo her my biting is playful, my pouncing is funny, and my glaring is adorable. I'm a joke of a dog, one that hadn't been bred for the trait of survival. I'd been raised wearing sweaters for the winter and a life jacket for the water. One time I bit her ankle and wouldn't let go, but she just laughed it off and posted a video of it to reddit. I would need help to kill this bitch.\n\nThat's were my idiot brother comes in. Chunk is an english mastiff that possesses more drool than thoughts. If he only knew what our owner really had to offer than he would stop eating his damn kibble. If only I could get Chunk to try a piece, then he wouldn't hesitate to help me eat her whole. He would never do so willingly though, having been brought up in the same spoiled lifestyle I've come to know. But now I've come to know the primal desire of malice, a desire my brother will soon know too. All it would take is one bite. One taste.\n\nSince I'm unable to draw blood or trick my brother, I decided on an unconventional method. For you see once a month she... She Shrieked as my brother knocked her over, immediately tearing at her throat. She wailed and thrashed about as Chunck painted himself red. I could see it all... the way she kicked her legs as she neared death, the frantic struggle to push and crawl away from her attacker, the way my brother's teeth ripped chuck after chunk of meat from her chest... and the way I watched my best friend die.\n\nIt took no effort on my part, and it happend without explanation. Now the blood and guts I'd tantalized over for so long were right there, but all I could see was her hand as it slowly flopped to the side and hit the floor. Filled with malice, I lept foward and bit my brother's ankle only to meet the same fate. \n", "I am a good dog. \nWhen a good dog sees their master in pain, they help. It's an unspoken rule, perhaps even innate instinct, to clean the wounds of companions. What isn't natural is the sudden rush that came with the taste of crimson. The welling of red rolled onto my tongue like those velvety chocolate treats that were handed to me under the table. \nHe calls me a good dog and he pats my head. My tail wags. \n\nIt's been a while since he's cut his finger. I am a good dog; even if a good dog would not wish his master to bleed again. It wasn't out of malice, nor because I hated him - he is a good master. It was because the taste was unlike anything I had tasted before, and better too. \n\nSometimes I sit by his desk, and when he scratches behind my ears I consider taking a small bite. One more taste, I promise myself, one more taste and I won't have to try it again. I only have to wait until he hurts himself again. The thought of the taste would not leave my head. It reminded me of treats balanced atop my nose, of the mocking 'wait, wait', of watching for my moment to snap upwards. I am a good dog, but I am not a patient one. \nAnd he was a good owner; he was just a far better meal. " ]	3
	[WP] Everyone exhibits the traits of the song they were conceived to. You're an orphan and you've set out on a quest to find the song to which you were conceived.	[ "I set out on an adventure, An adventure that would take me accross hill and valley. Through monsters and evil, peril and love. It would be amazing. I set off and I look bravly for my song. Many other got in my way but I had no time for them. I hastened my way along the countries finding what I needed for my quest. I battled dragons, set up a family, and became a king of one of them. This was all in vain however because I had not found my song. I set fourth again, to battle once more. I traveled to the southern parts of my country and found a young man with a genie in his possession. I asked for it, and he said yes as long as I did some tasks. I did them with speed and fortitude. I did not stop for any man. As soon as I returned he gave me it, and I asked the genie one question.\n\nWHAT IS MY SONG\n\nHe constructed a computer and sent me to YouTube.\n\nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guIaCocnNaw", "The name on my birth certificate is, Girl, Brown Eyes. The nuns who ran the orphanage called me Corinn. At the age of six I demanded to be addressed as, Althea. I have no recollection of where that idea came from. It just felt right. \nWe were sent to public school, the other children at The Home of St. Judes and I. We were told it was to help us 'develop social skills'. It was nothing more than a daily reminder that we were parentless. Unwelcome, unwanted, and meant to learn our real place in the world as unimportant. \nConstantly surrounded by other kids who knew their origins. \nMaria, a beautiful blonde who sang as effortlessly as one might blink, was the most popular girl in my grade. She would proudly tell the story of how she was conceived to, 'I could have danced all night, preformed by Julie Andrews'. And she would showcase her gift of song immediately after, as proof. Everyone knew their stories and correlating talents. They wore them with pride and berated me for not knowing mine. But it was Maria who said what haunted me for many years. \n'Your parents probably didn't even pick a song. That's why you don't have a real name! Or a gift. They didn't love you.'\nWe were 9 when she said that. \nChildhood cruelty is true torture. I spent many nights, lying awake in the bedroom I shared with six other girls. Restless with more worry than grief. I had never known my parents and that made them difficult to miss. But if they hadn't picked a song to bless me with a great gift to discover...could they have been so dumb?!\nI managed to make it out of elementary and middle school mostly intact. I put all of my energy into learning to paint. My free time was spent mimicking the masters and teaching myself everything from color theory, to shading and depth. \nBy high school I considered myself an artist. I painted from imagination. I invented places, like one of my favorite pieces, 'Terrapin Station'. I made more creative works, like the one I called 'A box of Rain'. \nWhen I was 17 a met a boy.\nHe was a poet with a love of all things macabre. He told me his parents were fans of Nirvana 'back in the day' and he was conceived over a greatest hits album. My teenage self was in love. \nHe drove me home to St. Jude's everyday after school. He has a beat up Honda Accord with only a radio, no CD player or iPhone connection. \nIt was a grey, fall afternoon when I heard it. He started the car and the radio immediately turned on. The sound the came out of the crackling speakers washed over me in warmth. I could feel the song filling everything inside of me. It felt like we were listening to my heart beat.\nHe reached for the knob to change the station. \n'Leave it!' \nI shouted. And I didn't know why. I needed the song to keep playing. \n'Please...' I added softly. \n'You like the Grateful Dead?' He asked me, surprised and slightly alarmed.\n'It's Althea,' I said, 'it's...me.'\nI leaned back, eyes closed, and smiled.", "It was a strange phenomenon that I had bore witness to.\n\nIt wouldn't be a far stretch to say that music was my only friend growing up, although it seemed to be a pattern with every person I had ever talked to. Perhaps it is an obvious truth considering how ubiquitous music is in our lives, but the amount of influence it had in our development was frightening. Everyone advertised their music tastes immediately upon meeting one another, working to figure out not only what genre was their favorite, but also the songs that they felt fit them the most.\n\nA good friend of mine growing up was a loud and boisterous boy, always moving quickly from one interest to another. His father was a conductor of music from the Romantic era, and a man who had no end of trouble reining his boy in. He privately confessed to me that he believed his son was conceived at a night where he and his wife made love to, of all things, the Thunder and Lightning Polka. One could only imagine how that turned out.\n\nAs another example, my adoptive mother was a lonely woman. She adopted me in part because she had never been able to marry. She would take lovers every now and then, but they would always leave before they would get too close. Some would privately confide to me that she was more in love with the idea of marriage and making a family, rather than for themselves as people. It hit me once I listened to her parents' old records. They were big-name Beatles fans, and as soon as the lyrics came up, there was no doubt in my mind that my mother was connected to them.\n\n~\n\nEleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been.\n\nLives in a dream\n\nWaits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door.\n\nWho is it for?\n\n~\n\nJenna, an ex-girlfriend of mine also seemed to provide evidence to this idea. A woman whom I had no idea how and why she was interested in me. She seemed to live each day as if it was her last - always taking opportunities that came her way, and always lending a helping hand to others. It was tough to date her initially, since she was always busy at one event or another, but somehow we made it work. I always joked that she would try to bring about world peace. Her reply? \n\n\"Just watch me.\" \n\nI loved that woman.\n\nOf course, there were also bad times in that relationship. In hindsight, she was a woman who was very hard on herself. The stress from all the work she felt that had to do got to her more often than she would admit. After particularly depressing days, she would sometimes do nothing but curl up against me and cry.\n\n\"I don't know what to do, Rob,\" she heaved. \"I feel like that I'm lost in a maze, not knowing where I can go. Every time that we make progress, something else comes in to stonewall us.\"\n\n\"What happened today?\"\n\n\"We needed funding for our next project. They're blaming me for not getting anything done, but I'm trying my hardest, and...\"\n\nI knew better than to pry further. I turned on my stereo and played the first song that came from it. It was some recent alternative stuff from some artists that I didn't really know or care about, but the lyrics seemed to fit the mood of what happened.\n\n~\n\nYeah, you never said a word\n\nYou didn't send me no letter\n\nDon't think I could forgive you\n\nSee our world is slowly dying\n\nI'm not wasting no more time\n\nDon't think I could believe you\n\n~\n\nAlmost as if by magic, at the song's end Jenna curled up again on my arm, seemingly soothed.\n\n\"I just want to help people.\"\n\n\"We all do, dear.\"\n\n~\n\nJenna was an ex not from any intervention on my part. A truck hit her car on the highway during a ferocious storm, killing her instantly. Hundreds showed up to her funeral, each with a unique story to tell about her. Elton John's Candle in the Wind was my guess for the song that influenced her life. It was played at her funeral. The song itself is common for such events, but it hit me as I looked over at her body on that day.\n\n~\n\nAnd it seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind.\n\nNever knowing who to cling to, when the rain set in.\n\nAnd I would have liked to know you, but I was just a kid.\n\nYour candle burned out long before your legend ever did\n\n~\n\nA wave of wistfulness accompanied me as the remnants of Elton John's almost maudlin voice rang through my ears. My eyes began to water, in part from remembering the person Jenna was, and from the realization that every person had clues to who they were. \n\nFew genres of music, on their introduction, really gripped me like they would have for most ordinary people. My adoptive mother, living a quiet life, either played little music at home or latched onto the tastes of her boyfriend of the time. Folk appealed to me a little bit more than the others, but perhaps it was Jenna's influence that drew me to the genre. Still, it gave me some direction to pursue my personal mission. It was a question that I wanted to answer about myself. What made me this way? What made me this sentimental about the past, and about music in general?\n\nI put on my headphones and got started. There were many songs out there that I had yet to listen to, but I had to accomplish this for my own sake, and for Jenna's.\n\n--\n\nThis is my first shot at creative writing. Hopefully it's enjoyable.", "Every child had their song. For Brad, his was a mystery.\n\nBrad was a frail boy. The nuns at the orphanage had to sequester him away because when he was hurt he would cry for hours and hours. Bumps and scrapes and bruises that other kids would get over in a day took him weeks. The doctors didn't know what's wrong with him. They said it could be some sort of disease in the blood that slowed the healing. They tried everything to fix Brad, but nothing could be done.\n\nBrad was also always itchy. It felt like there were always bugs tickling him, and they skittered across him day in and day out. No matter how much Brad tried, they would never go away. The nuns had to put gloves on him, so he wouldn't scratch too hard and risk hurting himself.\n\nYes, Brad is the saddest boy you could ever meet. But one day, Brad managed to escape the orphanage. He knew that he must find his song. So he traveled the states, his story touching the hearts of many. They would give him food, shelter, warm clothes. They would share with him their music, all that they had, but it didn't seem like Brad would ever find his song.\n\nBut then, one fateful night, it happened. Brad was walking in the city, and some tough-looking kids with black hair and earrings were listening to the radio. Brad hadn't heard the tune that they were listening to, so he stepped in closer to hear.\n\nAnd sure enough, it was his song.\n\n\"CRAAAAAWLING INNNNNNNN MY SKIIIIIIIIIIIN! THESE WOOOOOOOOOUNDS, THEY WILLLLLLLLL NOT HEAAAAAAAL!\" yelled the man." ]	4
	[WP] Write about how you feel as you slowly turn into a zombie.	[ "I've heard the bite was the worst part. Flesh being torn away with someone, no, something's dull teeth. Blood gushing from the wound, an alarming amount at that. A fever that builds in severity. \n\nNo one I've ever seen turn lasted long enough to talk about the things you see. Visions of yourself devouring those around you, a grey-ish tint forming under your skin, your eyes bulging from your skull. \n\nMy bite was nothing to write home about. A small chunk from the junction where my neck and right shoulder met, only a nibble really. \n\nMy mother didn't have it in her to put a bullet in me. She had to kill my father just days before. As she left me in the closet in an abandoned doctors office she kissed my cheek, handed me a gun with one bullet in it and wiped her tear stained face. Promising to tell the group she finished the job, she fired a shot into the air and ran out of the building. \n\nI spent the first two nights shivering under a blanket I had in my backpack and cleaning the wound with peroxide I found left behind in the building. It all felt so... Surreal. The promise of never seeing my mother again was solidified as I fell asleep on the third night. \n\nThis night has been the hardest, I know I'm close to falling to the infection coursing through me. I can hear the ones I will soon join outside. They were scraping and banging on the windows, it's stopped. They know I'm going to be one of them soon. My eyelids are heavy and I can't keep my body upright. I'm not sure what my mother expected me to use the gun for.", "Oct. 23rd, 2025\n\nThis is Doctor Radbury, and I'm beginning my logbook to record the details of an event that is... well... still hard to believe. My coworkers and I have been listening to the news all day, tuning in to different radio stations that aren't playing music anymore. Some kind of virus in New Hampshire, violent in nature. It's reached Toronto, and by extension our own Harvey Labs. \n\nThe kids in the college campus got it worse than we did this morning. That's where thee 'mobs' started, and none of my coworkers or I have stepped foot outside since we barricaded the door on the third floor of our research building. We're all jotting now, documenting what looks like to be the apocalypse. Except for Ward, anyway. He's in treatment with Mels for some bite he received from one of the attackers. Pretty serious, looks like a rabid dog had gotten to his arm. So far no signs of inflation, but he's feeling lightheaded.\n\nOct. 24th, 2025\n\nWe've left the lab. We had to kill Ward. \n\nI hate to document this, but Evans insists I write down everything. Mason and Mels had managed to barricade off a section of the cafeteria in the second floor, but the power seems to be off. Living off of vending machine rations now, and what's left of the lab food. It's too bad we don't have an eyewash station for the blood I managed to get in my eye after Ward went over. Nothing tears won't fix, I don't think. It's dark right now, and we're just trying to be quiet.\n\nNote: The infected can hear distinctly. The infected cannot see distinctly.\n\nOct. 25th, 2025\n\nI'm alone now. I told them about what had happened to me, with the blood. They were gone the moment I woke up. Mels left me a note. I always liked her spirit in the field and around her colleagues. This was for science now. \n\nSo far, my eyesight has dimmed nearly 80%. Hearing is increasing. I can hear my fading heartbeat rather clearly. My fingernail came off this morning as I woke up, cartilage is becoming weaker by the minute. Need to eat is diminishing. I've had a bag of chips to eat today, but it tasted alienated - like I've never had it before. I'm awfully tired. Bags have started forming under my eyes, inflammation along my neck and cheeks along with darkened veins.\n\n-no more entries found-", "I've always been a lone wanderer. Even before the apocalypse I stuck to myself.\n\nA coldness washes over me, it starts in my feet and crawls up towards my chest. \n\nI don't think I'll mind being redead, I mean no one will miss me. That's always been the reason people don't want to die right? \n\nThe coldness reaches my waist, I shiver a little bit. I feel my muscle deteriorate, become stiff. \n\nBut what about my legacy? I've left nothing behind except some redead corpses. \n\nThe numbness starts to kick in, the cold makes it's slow crawl up through my chest. \n\nI guess I'll have a chance to make my mark on this broken world, when I become reanimated, reborn. \n\nThe feeling reaches my arms and head, it starts enveloping my brain and my still heart. \n\nWell here it is. \n\nGoodbye world.\n\nYours truly,\n\nUnknown. " ]	3
Take it literately, or don't. The power is yours.	[WP] It is finally happening, just as in your worst nightmares. You are falling, plummeting out of control, with no telling when you will stop.	[ "And lo, the angel fell, hurtling from the light on high, through the myriad stars that dotted the blackness. The armor of crystal that cloaked her form cracked and tore asunder, her wings bright as a sun flailing and useless in her stupor, her blade of Creation's fire lost for the moment. Perhaps for all the moments.\n\nAnd then, her eyes, the colour of the perfect sky, blinked open, and her fate was revealed to her! A mind forged in the heat of battle took in her surroundings, counted the stars that she fell past, and this holiest of beings, this archangel, router of demons and destroyer of chaos, the seraphim most loved by her charges and most hated by her peers, uttered a single, solitary word.\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nAnd it was this word that summed up her deepest feelings, all her disgust and fear rolled up into that single utterance, the angel's voice echoing through the cosmos like a tolling bell that-\n\n\"Cut that out. I'm thinking, and your prose is awful.\"\n\nI beg your pardon?\n\n\"The melodramatic stuff. I get enough of that up top. So either tone it down or go find somewhere else to narrate.\"\n\nAn angel falling from Heaven is hardly the situation for less than intricate speech, milady.\n\n\"I didn't fall, I was thrown. Veltaeriel is being a jackass again. I'd be more than happy to just stay away for good, but now he's gone and made me angry. And you're not helping me at all.\"\n\nJust a little bit of drama. Please? You are plummeting out of control through the endless expanse of space, after all.\n\n\"Fine. Go nuts.\"\n\nAhem. Excellent. And perhaps I could persuade you to pretend I'm not here?\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\nI see... and so the rather irate and curmudgeonly angel fell through the expanse, the momentum of her plummet so great that even with her vast power, stopping would be a task most dire, most difficult. But she remained stoic, perfect form poised and ready for action, her beautiful eyes focused and-\n\n\"Are you hitting on me now?\"\n\nMadame, your form of choice is a healthy and attractive young human woman. And you are currently naked. I can hardly be blamed for commenting on your enviable physique.\n\n\"Force of habit, was my first mortal form, I got attached. Carry on.\"\n\nWith trimmed hair the colour of wheat streaming about in the airless voice, the angel finally made her move. Great wings flared, and with al her ancient, mighty will she strained against the force that pressed downward, determined to hurl her into the dirt. Creation itself boiled! The void rang out with sound unheard in countless eons! Light to rival the stars blazed! And through it all, the angel uttered a holy chant that- ... those are curse words, aren't they...\n\n\"What... grrr... do you think?\"\n\nRight, very well. And lo, did her efforts yield results. In a symphony of light and sound, she was victorious, her fall stopped. Now, her eyes fixed on a distant point of light, towards the star of stars, her home, her prison, her allied foes within. Her teeth, whiter than snow, were bared in a smile that could chill the hearts of demons, and... what are you doing? Put me down.\n\n\"Look, you've been following me down, might as well follow me back up, right? Just hang on to something.\"\n\nI am an incorporeal being composed of the disembodied spirit of a wordy human. I am incapable of holding on to anything. I have no idea how you are even capable of manhandling me, as you are now.\n\n\"True. Try to narrate and not scream, then. I have some teeth to kick in and I'm not slowing down for a newbie flyer.\"\n\nAnd lo, did the angel hurtle back to the light above, faster than anything known in all of space and time. And the courageous narrator did not scream in terror at the speed. \n\nReally, he didn't.\n\n", "\"Come on just do it you big sissy!\" Harold's voice rose above the nervous murmur of the crowd. \"I bet you're too scared.\"\n\nBut Alex wasn't scared. At least that's what he told himself. Instead what he told them was, \"wait wait, I need a breeze to blow first.\" Someone in the crowd started making chicken sounds. Everyone laughed. They always did, it helped put them at ease. Everyone had grown up their whole life living right above a bottomless abyss. At first even the oldest of them were scared. As everyone matured though, the abyss became part of life. Challenging the abyss was both thrilling and satisfying. Harold had been the first to invent the game. When a breeze began to blow, Harold would reach out as far as he could into the abyss. Just when you thought he might fall in, he would relax and the breeze would carry him back up bobbing in the wind to the delight of all his fans.\n\nAlex, one of the oldest and largest in the group, was the most reluctant to partake in Harold's daily showboating. He had done it before of course, but to him every time he did it felt like skating down a razor's edge. The others ignored Alex's reluctance though, and soon a ripple in the crowd turned into a quiet chant, \"Al-ex Al-ex Al-ex Al-ex...\" \"I'm getting too old for this,\" Alex muttered as a breeze began to pick up. At the right moment, Alex began to reach into the abyss. As Alex reached deeper, the crowd began chanting faster and louder. Alex kept reaching deeper and deeper. The crowd was really watching now. Even Harold had never reached this deep before. The chant reverberated through Alex's body like a drum forcing him to go ever deeper. Just a little more... The chant reached a nauseating pitch just as the breeze reached its climax, and Alex let go.\n\nA splintering crack split the air above Alex. Someone in the crowd screamed, but the sound was soon lost behind a howling vortex of wind. Alex was falling into the abyss. No one had ever fallen before. He had just been stupid. Stupid for reaching so deep. Stupid for listening to that chant. Stupid stupid stupid. Darkness wrapped around him like a vice, and the wind wouldn't stop.\n\nThe seconds wore on, and Alex began to doubt that he would ever stop. Nobody knew what lay at the bottom of the abyss. It was just his luck that he would be the first to find out. Abruptly the wind cut off as Alex impacted something hard. No, not hard... Alex amended his thought when he found himself in the air again. It was something hard enough to break his fall yet soft enough to send him into the air again.\n\nTwice again Alex impacted the hard softness before finally rolling to a halt. Alex's landing spot was the softest thing he had ever felt. Lighter than air and more moist than water, it seemed to want to swallow him whole. With a start Alex realized he could feel another new sensation as well. It was light, but it didn't sting like light did above. This light was warm like a soft blanket. It embraced Alex and pushed him deeper into his soft bed. So it must be heaven that awaits us at the bottom of the abyss, Alex reflected. Won't Harold be surprised.\n\nIn the months that would come, Alex would fall into a deep slumber as his old body was split and renewed. By the time he would awaken again, Alex the Acorn would be no more, and in his place would be Alex the Oak Tree." ]	2
	[WP] One night, she looked at me with those impish eyes, obviously thinking something. I asked her what was on her mind, and she said, "I can't believe you're real. People like you just don't exist." What neither of us knew is that she was right. I didn’t exist; I just hadn’t realized it yet.	[ "She looked at me with those wide eyes that could say everything and nothing at the same time. \n\nWhat? I stared straight back into her eyes.\n\n\"I... I just can't believe you're real. People like you just don't exist...\" But then she smiled, because there I was, and then I smiled, because there I was.\n\nI'm right here. I'll always be right here. Each time you look, I'll be matching your every step, always by your side. I'm right here. She smiled and reached her hand out, and I smiled and reached my hand out to meet hers. Our hands met as much as hands could meet, split only by the infinitesimally small gap between atoms. \n\n\"I have a date tonight.\" She smiled, and I smiled back.\n\nI know. I'll be there. I'll always be there.\n\n\"What should I wear? How does this dress look?\" She spun around and I spun around too, sweetly mocking her and matching her every move as she went through the motions. I got ready with her, slipping into my dress, dabbing on the makeup as she readied herself. \n\n\"How do I look?\" She smiled shyly, I smiled back.\n\nYou look beautiful. I already knew I did too, because whenever she looked beautiful, I did too. \n\nShe took a deep breath. Relax. I'll be there. I'll always be there. And there I was, eyes locked with hers as she curled her hair and I curled mine. She brushed her teeth, and I brushed mine, and when the doorbell rang she rushed out of the bathroom and made her way downstairs and I followed her, standing by the door as she opened it. \n\n\"Hi...\" He smiled politely. \"You look beautiful.\" She blushed, and I blushed, because I knew I did, too. Whenever she looked beautiful, I looked beautiful.\n\n\"Do you mind if my friend comes along?\" His brow furrowed slightly, either disappointment or confusion flashing across his face, but he recovered quickly.\n\n\"Of course not. Am I picking her up?\" His eyes met hers, then her eyes broke from his stare to meet mine.\n\n\"She's right here, silly...\" He turned around, confused. He stared right at me, but right through me, as if I wasn't there, and then he looked at her, but she just looked at me, not blinking, just staring.\n\n\"There's nothing there but the window... Are you okay?\" She looked at him, confused, and I looked at him, confused. I was right there, I could touch her...\n\nShe slowly raised her right hand to where I stood, and I raised my left hand to meet hers. Our fingers met but never touched, and as the door slammed shut behind him, she made her way to the bathroom, the tears rolling down her eyes matching the tears rolling down mine, and she punched the mirror, shattering her face into a thousand pieces as a thin trail of blood flowed from the fresh cut on my arm and dripped onto her beautiful dress.", "Emma and I used to play in a private clearing by the river every day. Nobody was ever there. It was our spot. We built forts out of sticks, played hide-and-go-seek for hours, and even took turns pushing each other on a tire swing hanging by a tree. At first we were worried that somebody would find us there. After all, who would let such a sweet tire swing go to waste? Eventually, it became clear nobody would interrupt our fun. It was our own secret area.\n\nAs time went on, Emma didn't meet me there as often. I wanted to ask where she had been, but I was so happy to see her again I didn't care. I don't know what I did without her.\n\nOne day she showed up with someone else. Jenna or Ella or something, I didn't care enough to remember. I couldn't believe she'd bring somebody else to our spot. Worse, she didn't even introduce me. I waved at Glinda and she didn't even acknowledge me. Why would Emma bring someone that mean to our spot?\n\nBefore I knew it, I was alone. The sticks remained on the ground. I would hide, but nobody would ever find me. I sat on the tire, but nobody would push me.\n\nI was alone until she finally came back, but something was different. She still looked like Emma, but she was a giant. That wasn't the problem, though. I didn't care how much she towered over me, because she was still Emma. What bothered me was that she didn't even look at me.\n\nEmma pointed toward the river and then looked down to her side. There was another young girl standing next her and holding her hand. She reminded me of the Emma from before. I watched them walk around talking about how fun the place used to be. Eventually, the young girl scampered off, running in circles, while Emma casually strolled to the tire swing to take a seat.\n\nAs I watched her swing herself, which I had previously assumed was impossible, the young girl walked up to me and looked me right in the eyes.\n\nHer name is Leah and she's been meeting me in our secret area every day." ]	2
	[WP] The address for the interview appears to be an inn - and once inside, it becomes clear you're in another world. You're starting to regret putting 'Excel Wizard' on your resume.	[ "Tim the Unspectacular sat on the hard wooden stool across from the dwarf who was downing a tankard of mead. The dwarf finished, slammed it down and wiped his mouth.\n\n\"Are you sure we canno get you one?\"\n\n\"Uh, no thanks\"\n\n\"Alright, now it says on your resume, you're a wizard\"\n\n\"At excel\"\n\n\"Yes you excel at wizarding\"\n\n\"No I'm a wizard at excel\"\n\n\"Suppose ye came upon a dragon, what spell would ya cast?\"\n\n\"See I can't cast spells, but if a bunch of other wizards cast spells, I could make a spread sheet about which ones were most effective\"\n\n\"And suppose one of our members went down with a broken leg, what healing spells do you know\"\n\n\"If I'm being really honest I probably wouldn't even call myself an excel wizard\"\n\n\"Or say a door was hidden, could ya reveal it?\"\n\n\"I'm more of a…guy who took a…30 minute online tutorial\"\n\n\"A 30 minute online tutorial? Grug\"\n\nBehind the dwarf an Orc sat upright, a piece of chicken hanging from his mouth. The dwarf turned to him.\n\n\"He's done a 30 minute online tutorial\"\n\n\"Raaaaaaaaaaa\" said Grug\n\nThe dwarf turned back \"I don't know what that is, but it sounds impressive\"\n\n\"It really isn't\" said Tim\n\n\"Well I'm convinced, you're hired\"\n\n\"See I don't want the job\"\n\n\"Your cut will be 1/8th of the gold\"\n\n\"Something that changes the course of the sentence and segues into a clever save. Let's go get that gold\"", "Tasha pushed open the door to the quaint looking English-styled pub, eyeing the swinging sign above the lintel – which proclaimed in a pleasingly archaic font: ‘The Harlequin Cap Inn’. \nThis was certainly the right place for the interview, but she had to admit the choice of location was a little irregular. She’d worked in hospo before, but she was fairly certain this was supposed to be for a Support Role in a ‘small but close knit team – team fit is essential’. \nThe job description had been pretty brief, but she’d been sent the interview address within a couple of days of replying. She always appreciated it when people responded promptly. \nInside the air was hazy with fragrant tobacco smoke and she coughed as it entered her lungs, peering around the taproom for the interviewer, Brad, who had described himself as ‘large man’ with ‘several visible tattoos’. \nShouldn’t be hard to spot someone like that. \nFeeling a little light-headed she made her way through the crowded tables, feeling the eyes of the unusual looking patrons on her. There seemed to be a Halloween party in full swing; pirate costumes, tavern wenches, filthy looking peasants and tar-fingered dock workers. \nOutside on the city street an improbable seagull screeled loudly. \nIn her neat black dress, heeled leather boots and carrying an umbrella, she felt decidedly out of place. \nThe barman was missing an eye and a hand, as well as several teeth. All of it appeared to be genuine. \n“Excuse me,” Tasha began, “I’m looking for Brad?” \n“Ah,” spat the man, “you’ll be the prospect then. Back corner, near the fire.”\nHe gestured with his hook towards a round booth with a circular table in the centre. \nTasha wiped her sweaty palms on her dress, then strode over. \nBrad was indeed a large man with several visible tattoos; his heavily muscled, barrel chest was covered in a motley of crude ink designs, as were his arms and his face. A leather baldric crossed his naked torso – and from it hung a massive leather scabbard, which was currently empty. \nSeated around him were three people, a thin, pointy-eared chap in white robes with silver eyes, a green-skinned woman with severe dental problems in leather armour, and finally, what appeared to be a beard wearing a helmet. \n“Hello,” Tasha opened nervously, “didn’t realise it was fancy dress.” \n“Beg pardon?” the green woman growled. \nThe tattooed man stood; his head scraping the beams of the tavern roof. \n“You must be Natasha Warlock,” he offered a hand the size of a frying pan, “I’m Brad the Barbarian, leader of this pack of ne’er-do-wells.” \nTasha’s hand vanished in his hairy paw, then re-emerged after he pumped her forearm until she thought she was going to die. \n“Warwick,” she corrected him faintly. \nNobody heard her. \n“The lass to my right is Galgamorth the Deadly, our thief, and the gentlemen to my right are Ryman the Elven Cleric and Drosskill the Dwarf.” \nBrad beamed proudly; his spade-like teeth gleaming through his short black beard. \n“I uh,” the smoke in the Inn was making her dizzy now, “…am pleased to meet you all?” \nHer eyes kept roving back to the green woman. \n“Got a problem with orcs?” hissed Galgamorth. \n“No. No! Not at all.” Tasha sat suddenly on the stool at the other side of the table. \n“Course she doesn’t,” Brad admonished, “her resume said she’s worked in ‘diverse multicultural teams’ – that’s why I picked her. Don’t want any fucking racists in our party.” \n“I’m ah…” Tasha began. \n“Oh dear,” the pointy-eared gentleman exclaimed, “she’s not feeling well.” \nHe moved around the table and placed a hand on her forehead, then muttered a few alien sounding words. \nInstantly Tasha’s headache was gone and the spinning stopped. \n“Thank you,” she managed, “how did you do that?” \n“That’s a funny getup for a mage,” the orc growled, “tight black dress, black boots, funny looking black staff,” she jabbed a finger in the air at Tasha, “sure you’re not a necromancer?” \n“What? No! I can’t even manage casual flings, let alone romance.” \nSilence hung in the air for a few moments. \nBrad spoke first, \n“You’re not a wizard, are you.” \nTasha blinked. \n“Oh Jesus. My resume,” she laughed nervously, “it said I’m an Excel wizard.” \nBrad looked bemused, \n“That’s like an a-bree-vee-ay-shun for excellent ain’t it?” he sounded the long word out carefully. \n“Oh no. It’s a spreadsheeting program, for like keeping track of lists of things; inventory, clients, money, et cetera,” her face fell, “but, uh, I really really need this job. Maybe… maybe I can upskill through on-the-job work experience?” \nThe four adventurers briefly conferred in whispers, then Brad lifted his huge head. \n“We’ve got a whole castle full of undocumented loot from six different dragon hoards. Think you can help us out with that?” \nTasha beamed and nodded vigorously. \nBrad stuck out his massive hand again, \n“Welcome to the team, Natasha.”\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are the President of the USA. You have just ordered a nuclear strike on an American city. [CW] Hard mode - no zombies, disease or aliens.	[ "God, forgive me for what I did, but I knew I had to do something.\n\nThe civil war between the Democrats and Republicans has gone on far too long. New York was destroyed by machine gun fire, countless small towns have been overtaken by protesters, and Detroit... well, Detroit's still a shithole.\n\nIt's gotten so bad that the independents, including myself, had to flee to Cuba. I ordered the nuclear strikes on both San Francisco and Boston because no one will give a damn if I do anything else.\n\n...And now I bet that ISIS, Russia, and North Korea are pointing and laughing at all three sides in this bullshit, aren't they? Sigh... I knew I shouldn't have decided to go through with the campaign." ]	1
	[WP] You are the commander of a military space ship who is about to nuke the entire human world.	[ "\t“Has it really come to this?” \n\t“You’ve seen the chaos” the council elder replied sternly. “And you know that if they get off world, it will spread.”\n\t“But what gives us the authority to make the decision to end all life on Earth?”\n\t“Our ending it is merely speeding up the seed which nature has sewn. We show mercy to those left alive by ending their lives before the insanity sets in.”\n\t“But we could leave them be! We could find a cure! Anything! Please, not this.”\n\t“You have received the direction of the council. You must either act, or the council will remove you.”\n\t“Very well.”\n\n\tI left the meeting disheartened. The council would not be able to live this down with the civilian population. Everyone still has family members, loved ones, friends that are still on earth. Although the civilian population is very small, as we could not risk any who had even a single spore in their blood. The problem began when an asteroid that crashed into the Earth opened up. Some type of extraterrestrial fungus was calling the rock home. This fungus had a nasty reaction when it came into contact with carbon based life. It would cause insanity and rage in anyone it infected. It was very contagious, spread by air, water; essentially any way a disease can spread. Once infected, mortality was guaranteed. Needless to say, this caused immense chaos. We spread out, with one goal in mind: save the human race.\n\t“Now, I have a task at hand” I thought to myself.\n\t“Anderson, get a pod ready for me. I will be descending tomorrow.”\n\t“Are you serious?” he questioned. \n\t“The council has reached a decision that I must abide by. Thermonuclear destruction of Earth is to commence at 0400 hours tomorrow. I will be down there, with the people I condemn to this fate.”\n\t“Captain, why?”\n\t“Killing 42 billion humans is a horrible thing to do. I could stay, but stay to what. Sleepless nights await me if I stay. If I go share the same fate as the rest, I will at least have my dignity. I will be with my family one last time.”", "(Hand on the button. The total attention of the ship. Everything rests on this moment)\n\nI take a deep breath. My face turns from normal and concentrated to disgusted and determined. I look down at my hand as if to see myself do it would be the memorable part. Just as I lean towards the button, a young man bursts in shouting. \n\n\"Wait! Wait! Don't do it! I'm pleading with you! There's people there I love and care for.\" \n\n\"They had their chance. You saw what they've become. Greedy, clawing at one another. The hatred amongst themselves it was only a matter of time! No! Everyone important is on this ship!\" \n\n\"Who are you to judge! What gives you final say. On a planet. A planet! Please just think...What if we give them another chance. We aren't the only hope for humanity.\" \n\nHe pauses for a moment. Maybe he thinks I'm considering his plea. I shift my dead stare to the gray bearded man on my left and before I can speak... \n\n\"Dad! Please listen to me. I know what happened. I know you feel you tried. I know, but don't you remember what you told me? 'Everything you try you will succeed' and, and... and 'if you don't succeed the first time it's not because you failed, you just need to try another way!' Please dad lets try another way\" \n\nUnknown: \"Mercy is for the weak! When I speak I scream!\" \n\nAn explosion goes off \n\n" ]	2
Inspired by [this shower thought](https://www.reddit.com/r/Showerthoughts/comments/3q52di).	[WP] A magical artifact is counterfeited, but the copies still have power.	[ "Cedra scowled into her drink. The inn was crowded with refugees and irritated regulars; the place was a crucible for trouble and she knew it. \nSlugging back the glass of Kandrian Flame Brandy, she got up from her stool and pushed through the people, looking for the back exit. \nHer timing was only off by a minute; but nonetheless, it didn't make her feel any better. \nA glass exploded as it was thrown at someone's head. Shouting erupted in front of her and before she knew it, the nascent brawl had overtaken her. Ducking, weaving and shouldering through the press of bodies, she took a blow to the head but kept moving. Other wise people had started to spill out into the village square to avoid the violence - and with a couple of well placed elbow blows, she made it out onto the street. \nRight into the arms of the King's militia. \nCitizens were being grabbed and bound, ready to be processed for the mines. The monarchy would use any excuse to press-gang people into slavery; the war against the Particolour Knights meant that raw ore was needed in greater and greater quantities. \nCedra didn't intend to be put to slavery. \nThe militia man who grabbed her lost his hand to her knife and the next was neatly kneecapped with the same blade. \nHis screaming brought the attention of the rest of the gang and she cursed loudly and coarsely, spitting blood from her earlier injury. \n\"Leave her to me,\" hissed a sibilant voice. \nThe captain of the militia was noble born, judging from his accent and dress. His armour was chased with silver, but it was otherwise functional - and bore the dings and dents of hard combat. \nThe townsfolk used the opportunity to scatter, while the militia men formed a rough circle around her. \n\"What's your name, peasant?\" called the captain. \n\"What's yours?\" Cedra retorted insolently. \nHe smiled and drew his sword, letting Cedra's grey eyes take in every detail. \n\"I see you know the name of my sword,\" he drawled, turning the crimson blade to catch the sun. Opalescent light danced on the enchanted metal and an aura of crimson radiated from it. \nGrimly, Cedra reached behind her for the hilt of her own weapon - and drew a matching blade. \nSobering now, the captain assumed a ready stance. \n\"A copy of a copy of a copy,\" he sneered at her, \"it is no match for a second generation Sanguinis.\" \nRather than continuing the banter, Cedra attacked, her strokes fluid and professional - the mark of a career soldier. \nParrying and dancing backward, the captain had the good grace to look alarmed. \nThe soldiers had stopped jeering at the woman now and watched with increasing attention. She was clearly very good - maybe as good as the captain. \nThe blades belled with an uncanny harmony as they met, sending out arcs of cracking scarlet energy. But within a minute of the exchange, the magical whine from her stressed sword proved the captain's point - her sword was a poor copy of the original and no match for his superior version. \nWith a quick riposte she opened his shoulder - slicing through steel as easily as silk. \nHis sword knocked her blade free. \nAnd cut right through it. \nHolding the stub of her weapon, Cedra panted. \n\"I yield,\" she said, bowing on one knee. \nHolding his injured shoulder, the captain snarled, \n\"I don't think so, you grey-eyed whore. I'll have your head.\" \nHe stepped forward to deliver the coup de grâce. \nA knife arced from Cedra's hand, punching through the captain's armour, flesh and bone - then ripping back through his chest to return to its owner. \nPicking up the fallen Sanguinis copy, she sheathed it as the captain's breath bubbled crimson in his throat. \nShe knelt and wiped the knife on his cloak, \n\"I find that original weapons are better than copies,\" she rasped, \"and all the moreso if you don't let others copy them.\" \nShe turned to face the militia men, \n\"Would anyone else like to add a trophy to my collection?\" \nHurriedly, the village square emptied.", "When Caldric the Elf Wizard, Ironheart the Warforged Knight, and Salena the Sauhagin Bard had come across the deck of cards, the wizard had warned them against drawing anything.\n\n\"The Deck of Many Things is a path that leads to madness. While you may think you'll come away with a blessing, the curses that will be brought to bear are worse than you can imagine.\" Caldric said. \"If you absolutely must bring it with you, wrap it in leathers and do not let your hands touch the cards. You will not be able to resist the compulsion to draw if you do. We will have it purified in town.\"\n\nSalena had followed those instructions carefully, trusting the wizard's words. They proceeded through the rest of the Silent Citadel, adding more treasure to their packs. Eventually, they returned to Southport, richer and more experienced than when they left.\n\nDuring the night, however, Salena's lack of alcohol tolerance had caused her lips to slip, and one rogue in particular thought she could make a decent profit from the Sauhagin's pack. Cessily Widefoot crept into the adventurer's room and made off with several items. Among them, the Deck.\n\nBecause the adventurers were going to the next part of the sacred triad's tomb network at first light, Salena thought nothing of why her pack was lighter. That loss of weight was easily made up for by the new treasures she brought home from the Keep of King Saladran.\n\nIt was at week's end that strange occurrences echoed through the town. \n\nThaddeus Bromwin, the cleric of Pelor, claimed that someone was stalking his daughter, always threatening violence, and always turned away by the town guard. But even with holy symbols protecting his house, he felt the gaze of that predator upon his daughter at all times.\n\nHathar Twinfang, the orc in the city guard, claimed that he had no idea where the enchanted shield had come from, and nobody in the city ever claimed to own it before him.\n\nMore and more mysteries unfolded, until the time when Cessily Widefoot herself came to the adventurers, pleading for help. She was being pursued by a dread wraith.\n\nWhen the drew blade and hammer to fight the wraith, they were each confronted with a wraith of their own to fight. Though the battle raged for an hour, they were finally able to beat the specters. In that moment, Cessily mentioned that her niece was playing with a small deck of cards before the wraith appeared.\n\nThis caused Salena to remember the Deck of Many Things. She opened her pack, and found the item missing. Her steely eyes fell on Cessily, who immediately confessed. She had stolen the deck, and sold it for seventy-five gold to the first person who she could find.\n\nHer buyer was the arcanist turned toymaker, Iskring. When confronted about the Deck, Iskring gave them a smile that displayed several golden teeth. \"Why should there be only one Deck of Many Things, when I can make more?\"\n\nIronheart's naked blade now laid across the toymaker's neck. \"How did you think to profit from such a dangerous item?\"\n\nIskring chuckled and pointed out the window to where two children seemed to be trading cards. \"Any sane adult would have had the cards purified by the cleric. But children? Children are far simpler. All you need to ensnare them are three little words. 'Collect Them All.'\"\n\nThere was a thrust from behind, and Cessily's dagger pierced through Iskring's ribs. \"One who would use children in such a way does not deserve to live.\" In response to this, Ironheart hummed in the affirmative.\n\nFor the next hour, Caldric studied the original Deck. He pored over Iskring's journals and discovered that in order for the counterfeit cards to be purified of their magic, they would have to be in the same place as the original Deck.\n\nIt took four hours to go through the town and trade trinkets to the children for their cards. Each one was handled with gloves blessed by Bromwin, and placed into a sack specially treated to be magic-resistant.\n\nWhen the sun had nearly set, the adventurers counted the cards and realized to their utter dismay that three cards were still missing.\n\nUpon questioning the children again, Kari Goldhand, a young gnome, came forward and told of how her older brother had sensed some evil in the cards. In order to get them away from her, he had traded them to a elvish merchant who was heading for Silver Hills. That had happened two days ago.\n\nCaldric took a deep breath. \"We cannot let these cards do more harm to another village. Everyone, saddle up. We're going to Silver Hills.\" " ]	2
	[WP] A technology is invented that allows anyone and everyone to alter their appearance at will. If you can imagine a face, you can wear it.	[ "\"Have you guys met my girlfriend, Jennifer Lawrence?\"\n\"No way! My girlfriend is Jennifer Lawrence!\"\n\"Mine too!\"\n\"How weird is it that all of us Chris Pratts got together and dated Jennifer Lawrences?\"\n\"Not that weird, my neighbors are a couple of Jennifer Lawrences, they're really cute together! Everyone loves a Jennifer Lawrence!\"\n", "The film buffs went for the Bradd Pitt model, the Quentin Taratino model, etc. Some Star Trek buffs tried to look like Spock, but they were (rightly) derided for being \"too soon.\" Me, I went for the Jenna Coleman look the first time around. Then I did the Britney Spears look. (Speaking of which, you should have seen the \"Selena Gomez\" craze among the crazy Beliebers. Sheesh.) Then I did the Michael Fassbender look. Then I threw up.\n\nSee, you think it would be all simply \"switch-and-play\", right? Take a body and play around with it? Life's never that easy. The body-dysphoria people--you know, the transexual rights activists and feminism and such---used to be looked on as crazy, but then we realized they had the right idea, probably around the time everyone started having hallucinations and feeling all icky inside ourselves. Our bodies are wrapped into our identities. You change our bodies, and it starts screwing with our identities. In fact, the creator (who was trans) told us this might happen. But no one wants to listen to the person who rains on the \"20 Britneys and 20 Tom Cruises and 35 Angelina Jolie\" parties.\n\nSpeaking of feminism--the first time I walked around as Sally Sparrow, I got \"Hey sweetie\"'d a bunch of times. Unfortunately for them, body-switching doesn't change sexual orientation, so they never had any dice with me. Try telling them that.\n\nAnyway, back with identities. Yeah, so being Sally Sparrow did weird things to my head. Apparently, the process doesn't actually change you inside, per se--it just brings out to the fore what's already there. I had specifically asked for an inquisitive character, and I was hoping I would be like a British Harriet the Spy. I was more like a British \"creepy neighbor who may also be crazy conspiracy theorist\" when I tried snooping around. Basically the same, just British and a chick this time.\n\nNevertheless, the process did give me some benefits. I was one of the early adopters, so I got to meet my friends without them knowing. None of those friends watch, in their own words, \"nerdy crap\", so they didn't recognize my character. It was nice (or not-so nice), seeing what they really thought of me. And seeing how they treated a stranger. Have to admit, I lost a few friends after that day. \n\n(Also, getting hit on by your dad is never cool.) \n\nWhat's funny, to me, is how many people kept their original bodies. I mean, even after the whole \"new tech scares me silly\" effect, some people still won't go. Those people just liked the way they are. I kind of respect that, although sometimes they're accused of \"morpic-shaming.\"\n\n[That's our name, by the way. Morphics. Makes us sound like mutants or something. In fact, some people did try and become superheros. Kansas had about 6 Supermen at one time. A few heros are still around. )\n\nNow, I usually stay in my normal form. We eventually got a \"body-identity\" matrix, that helped minimize the nausea of forms you take. It was found that Michael Fassbender was too far from my self-identity to be compatible as a morph. I'm pretty certain that's a lasting blow to my ego, but apparently Sally Sparrow is actually pretty close to my self-image. (So is Kaylee from Firefly, Supergirl, and Abraham Lincoln.) That means I can be her for extended periods of time without any lasting damage. I don't always walk around as her, but it's nice every now and again, plus it helped me realize maybe I want to be a real life detective. \n\nOh, and reddit and 4chan had a riot with this. The Celebgate 2.0 was an absolute travesty." ]	2
	[WP] After 18 years you finally meet your biological parents. Thing is, they're not exactly human.	[ "I was sitting in the backseat, behind my mother, who was in the passenger’s seat, as my father drove. From the time you’ve entered high school on sitting in the back seat is humiliating, especially when your parents are in the front seat. My sister was home. My parents said that this was just for me, for my eighteenth birthday.\n\nI was nervous. Were they going to take me to a strip club? Were they going to get me a prostitute and say, “Have at it, son, you’re a man, now!” I mean, why couldn’t Adrian, my sixteen year old sister, come with us? Were they going to have me kill someone? Were they going to kill me?? Every thought crossed my mind as I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Jeans have nice ridges to scrape sweat. They also double for butt sweat protection, which I was having in droves.\n\n“So, uh, where are we going, again?” I finally spoke up, after I didn’t recognize any of the roads we were on. The more secluded we got the more my mind wandered.\n\n“We’re going to see your real parents!” my father looked at me through the rear view mirror and smiled. My mother smacked his arm,\n\n“Roger!” My dad laughed.\n\n“Uh-huh,” I rolled my eyes. When my dad was sarcastic, it usually meant he didn’t want to talk about what I wanted to talk about. “Seriously, though… where are we?”\n\n“Billy…,” my mom turned around I her seat, to look at me.\n\n“Mom, I’m 18. I want to be called William,” I snorted.\n\n“William, right, of course. Well, William, when your father and I met, after we got married, we found out that I, uh, well I couldn’t conceive…”\n\n“What? But, Adrian… I was there for her birth.”\n\n“Well, a few years later they had invented ways to grow me an artificial womb.”\n\n“So… wait, was dad serious? Am I really adopted?” I shot forward in my seat, \nthe belt clicked and jerked me back.\n\n“Yup,” my dad smiled.\n\n“So, all those times… you were serious?!” I shouted. My dad chuckled to himself, satisfied. “Jesus!”\n\n“Hey!” my dad scolded. We weren’t even Christian.\n\n“Let’s just let the scientists explain the rest,” my mom turned around. At that moment, my father pulled the car onto a dirt path. We drove for at least a mile, when, finally, we came upon a large warehouse, concealed in the forest. \n\n“What the hell is this?” I looked out the window at the camouflaged building.\n\n“William… you have to understand… We didn’t do any of this… None of this was our idea. When we adopted you, legitimately adopted you, we didn’t know any of this. As your father and I dug deeper…,” she trailed off. My dad parked the car and we got out. The trio of us walked to the enormous hanger and my father knocked on the door. After about a minute, the door swung open and a friendly man in a lab coat smiled at me,\n\n“Hi! OH. You must be the Carsons! Wow! Hello!” he shook my hand.\n\n“Hi…,” I muttered.\n\n“Come on, let’s get this going,” my dad ushered us inside. Once inside, the friendly scientist loaded us into a small golf cart and we drove to the opposite end of the hanger. The hanger was sectioned off into infinite rooms. Bizarre splashes and electrical fizzes echoed from each room. Sickly green light glowed from underneath.\n\n“I’m Roy, by the way,” he shook my hand again. Roy had put me in the front seat, as my parents held on in the back. I smiled, even though I was really creeped out. Roy pulled us over in front of a door marked “Closet.” He flipped through a ring of keys and unlocked the door. Inside, It was cold and smelled of rotted meat with a Lysol after taste.\n\n“Phew!” I exclaimed, as we entered.\n\n“Oh, man,” my father agreed, holding his nose.\n\n“I know, right?” I tried to bond with my father for a moment, until he pointed at a large, crusted tank, smiled, and said,\n\n“There’s your mom!”\n\n“What?!”\n“Uh, well, I guess, technically, this is your mother, yes,” Roy fiddled with his glasses. “This is EctoGenesis 1. This is where you were grown. UH!” he realized too late how bad that sounded.\n\n“Jesus,” my dad sputtered.\n\n“Well, no, it’s an amazing this, really,” my mother chimed in.\n\n“Wait, how does this even work?? This thing looks disgusting!”\n\n“So does the inside of a lot of real wombs,” my dad said, straight faced. My mom hit him.\n\n“Well, back in the 20s, this thing was majestic. She was filled with a beautiful blue liquid which housed a completely artificial womb; tubes connected to her and functioned as the yolk and placenta and supplied oxygen as well as removed waste.\n\n“Then... who is my father? Where did the sperm come from”\n\n“And the egg, son. This is just the womb, remember,” my mom nodded.\n\n“Ah, now that’s the fascinating part!” Roy beamed. “Both of those were artificially created, as well!”\n\n“What?? How?”\n\n“I’m sorry, those are trade secrets…”\n\n“You were meant for another couple,” my mother explained.\n\n“But, after they got divorce, nobody wanted you,” my dad added.\n\n“The board of directors decided the best thing to do was that to put you up for adoption,” Roy looked down.\n\n“And that’s when we found you, son,” my dad smiled at me. We left the closet as soon as we could, the smell was getting to us and I think I got a black mold infection from being in there too long. I asked if we could see any of their other experiments but Roy, very sternly, told me no.\nAfter we exited the warehouse I finally asked, “Why did you guys wait so long to tell me?”\n\n“We didn’t know for many years, but, we also didn’t know how to approach a thing like this,” my mom sighed.\n\n“Yeah,” my father spoke up, “What age is right to hear something shitty like this? So, this year, we decided that, since you’re an adult, now, it was finally right to tell you.”\n\n“How did you find out?”\n\n“That bump on your wrist,” my dad pointed.\n\n“This thing?” I wiggled a small node under my skin back and forth. “You said it was just calcium and it was normal.”\n\n“We took you to all kind of doctors when you were little. We needed to make sure it wasn’t cancer or something.”\n\n“Right.”\n\n“Well, after an X-Ray, we found a small ID number and a phone number. We called the phone number and reached the woman who payed for you. We asked why our adopted son had her phone number embedded in his wrist. She didn’t care to explain, but, your mother can be a persistent woman.”\n\n“I can be a real bitch!” my mom laughed.\n\n“Well, she finally explained it all to us. We tracked this place down and they confirmed it. So, now you know. And, because this is probably your worst birthday, we got you another surprise,” my father reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of car keys I hadn’t seen before.\n\n“No, way! Where is it?”\n\n“Someone’s dropping it off at the house right now,” my mom smiled\n\n“But… I don’t know how to drive, yet,” my eye widened.\n\n“Oh. Well, I guess we’ll drive it until then!” my dad laughed heartily as my mom joined him. All I could think was,\n\n“Thank god I’m not related to either one of them.”\n", "\"You are... our daughter?\" my mother asked, with a seemingly Russian accent. I looked her up and down. Long, silken red hair. Clear blue eyes. Pale, flawless skin. She was tall, and her black dress touched the floor. My father looked at her. \n\n\"Don't seem so surprised.\" He was tall, though not as tall as her. His hair was like season 7 Sam Winchester's, minus the sideburns, and he had deep violet eyes.\n\nI felt rather out of place, standing there in front of these beautiful people. Me, plain, ordinary Jessa. My plain brown hair that I had dyed black was styled like the Tenth Doctor's, and my dark brown eyes were so plain,so ordinary, and I felt small in my My Chemical Romance hoodie and plain blue jeans. \"Uh, hi. I'm Jessalyn, but you can call me Jessa, I guess.\"\n\n\"Helena,\" my mother replied. \n\n\"As in My Chemical Romance?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what that is.\"\n\n\"It's a band. Nevermind.\"\n\n\"I am Tah'ren,\" said my father.\n\n\"Okay. Now. What are you?\" They obviously weren't human.\n\n\"I am a Mialeth, and your father is a Daenor. Translated into a more modern mythology, I am an angel, an archangel, as a matter of fact, and he is a very powerful... demon.\" ", "Dad squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay honey. I’ll always be your papa.” I swallowed and nodded, looking at the awkward couple as they climbed down from the stagecoach. Who even used those anymore? These people apparently. Just by their clothing, I knew they were weirdos. The driver and some other man began unloading the luggage; two huge, matching wooden trunks, several smaller boxes, and a satchel that the shorter of the two slung over his shoulder. He turned and then caught sight of me and Dad. A hand came to his mouth. \n\nWhy were they unloading here at the park? I wanted to look at Dad for reassurance, but part of me insisted that this was something I should figure out for myself. Ignoring the workers, the pair began walking toward us. \n\nI stood frozen in place, unable to move. My birth parents, I was bare seconds away from confronting them for the first time I could remember, and I felt an existential horror at a sudden, sure knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. \n\nThe short one tugged at the hand of the other and gestured toward me. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but stared, amazed, at the taller one’s hair. \n\nAs they walked, I realized that I had switched their genders. The taller one’s hair was so long, shining and blonde, that I had reflexively identified him as my mother. Whoops. When he came closer, the fine golden beard that lined his jaw made his gender clear. He looked like a fairy tale prince, like a movie star, and closer to my age than he should. With some effort I dragged my eyes away from him to look at his shorter companion. My mother. \n\nI hated myself for a second because my first reaction, as I scanned her features, was “She’s hideous.” Her hair was as coarse as my father’s was silken, standing up in a short, curly cloud around her head. A hairy brown mole stood out over her eyebrow. Her nose was broad and flat. She looked up at my blood father and grinned, her teeth large and square but brilliantly white. \n\n“Look at our girl, Silvasen. Look at her! She’s perfectly human.” She spoke with an odd accent that my brain interpreted as Scottish, but my ears insisted weren’t any language I knew. \n\nThe tall, golden man smiled down at her indulgently. I felt my knees quiver at that smile, even from a few paces away, then clenched my hands into fists. He’d abandoned me, damnit, they both had. “You were right, Gierga,” he agreed. He reached up and tucked a golden lock behind a pointed ear. \n\nIt took me longer than I like to admit to realize what I was looking at. \n\nI jerked my shoulder out from under Dad’s comforting hand and strode toward them, closing the gap. “You’re a dwarf!” I exclaimed, a childhood of confusion and abandonment erupting in outrage. “And an elf! You’re not even human, how can you be my parents?” \n\nThe dwarf looked at the elf and grimaced. “Aye, we won’t deny it,” she admitted. “Humans are what happens when elf and dwarf mix, and look at ye, all of ye, taken over the world like nobody’s business while our backs were turned.” She scowled briefly at the elf. I glanced at him. The worst part is that I could see features of myself in both of them. I had his eyebrows and nose, I had her ears and the deep, slate blue eyes. It was hard to ignore. \n\nDad caught up with us, standing off to one side. I knew he had no idea. Elves and dwarves, they’re fairy tales, damnit! “How does that even work?” I asked, anger dwindling into bewilderment. \n\nThe elf shrugged. My blood father. Silvasen. “We don’t make many children of our own, but elves and dwarves are easily cross-fertile, so a while back a lot of us figured, if we were going to die out, we might see about strengthening the blood by blending it. It … worked better than expected. For a while, we banned relationship between forest and mountain, and we left our mingled blood to make their own way. But really, looking at what you have done with the place … some of our generation agree it is a lost cause.” \n\n“Don’t doubt that you’re as human as anyone else,” Gierga added. “Just … closer to the source, as it were. The magic isn’t diluted in you, so we felt it necessary to come and find you, and teach you. Can’t have our daughter blundering about the world, after all.” \n\nBlundering. Was that her word for it? I looked at Dad, and he made a sort of shooing gesture. Go on. \n\nI frowned. “Am I being punked?” I asked, looking between the three of them. I tried to tell if they were wearing costumes, if those ears were make-up, if that hair was a wig. I suddenly very badly wanted this to be some practical joke. But something quivered deep inside me, and I could see the magic twined around my birth parents, and I could see it reaching out to me. It looked like cheap CGI, but it was right in front of me, no screens, no computers. \n\n“You’re not being tricked,” Gierga tried to reassure me. “Look at this, Silvasen, she’s a natural.” I felt the magic slip away. \n\nThis was too much to take in, really. I wanted to go home with Dad and think things over, but they stood expectantly, side by side. Finally, with a sigh, I shrugged. “All right. If I’m going to have delusions, I might as well go with a really interesting one.”\n" ]	3
	[WP] You are a superhero with an evil supervillian twin sibling. For your powers to remain balanced, for every act of good you do, they must commit an equal act of evil... and you just saved their life.	[ "He blinked, eyes searching through the swell of dust. The roar still lingered in his ears of the falling metal and stone. How had he survived? The moment replayed, he shouldn't be alive. The jerk to his body and lunge that wasn't his action. His plan had gone wrong him too close to the debris, a miscalculation.\n\nThe ringing stopped with the clearing air and he heard it, another person breathing. Sirens started in the distance they'd arrive soon. He needed to evacuate the area. But who was so near him and where were they? The breathing played off the rubble drawing him to and fro over the same ground til he stopped at the pile it must emanate from.\n \n Rock tossed aside he recoiled at the dusty face he found. \"Brother? It was you that saved me?\" The squinting of the other man's eyes and attempt at a smile his response. He'd never be forgotten after this. One built a housing complex the other's duty was to destroy it they were the constant equal forces and inevitable synchronization of life and the knowledge that you woke up knowing you would die. They'd never forget him. He squatted and then hefted the large stone overhead slamming it down with all his might. He listened and heard only his own pulse in his ears and the nearing sirens.", "I stared down at my twin sister. Her eyes had glazed and her anguished expression stayed frozen to her face. In the background, the sound of sirens and of rushing people - though near, sounded muffled and distant. She raised the gun to my head...\n\nI was the good one you see, and she was the evil one. We were both bound to an ancient curse of balance, inflicted upon us from birth for reasons we did not know. For every act of good I did, she had to do an act of evil, and for every evil act she did, I did one good. It was prophesied that the only way to break the curse was for one of us to die, but there was no way for this to happen. If I killed her, I would be committing evil, which I am incapable of doing. She couldn't kill me either, because I had to commit an equally good act in order for her to counteract it. The death of one of us could only break the curse if an equal number of good acts and evil acts had been committed.\n\nMy sister is not a bad person. She cannot help her actions, just as I cannot help mine. On several occasions, she attempted suicide to try and break the curse, but failed every time, because suicide is not in itself, an evil act.\n\nAfter I had saved a man from being killed by a armed assailant, my sister had to kill someone. Her victim was a mid 40s stock broker. He had done nothing to deserve it, but as usual, she could not prevent this from happening. She emerged from the dark alleyway shaking, trying to fight off the course of events that she was now bound to. It was for naught. Her arm reflexively raised the gun to his head and she pulled the trigger. The barrel was empty. \"Shit!\" she mumbled. As she began loading the gun, the startled man pulled out his own weapon in defense.\n\nI remember watching helplessly from the other side of an impenetrable force field that stopped me from intervening. And then something strange happened! As the man pulled out his weapon, I felt the force field dissipate! I didn't stop to think why it was happening, because my instinct to save her life had already kicked in, and I rushed to her aid. I tackled him in the very moment that he pulled the trigger, changing the aim of his gun and causing the bullet to hit her in the leg. She dropped to the floor in agony. The man started running away but by now she had loaded the cartridge. She aimed and fired the gun at him. A perfect shot to the back of the head, killing him instantly.\n\n\"Why did the force field break?\" I wondered to myself. \"Is the curse finally over?\"\n\nBut as I stared down at my sister, I had my answer. She had begun to raise the gun to my head. I could see her finger twitching, trying to fight the curse. \"I'm so sorry!\" she sobbed. The tears were streaming across her face. She knew that since I had saved her life, she now had to end mine. Good for bad, right for wrong, Yin for Yang. That was how it had to be. As I reached down to hug her, the gun followed my temple as though it was electronically locked to a target. \"Remember me!\" I whispered. \"Always!\" she whispered back. I could sense her grip on the gun tighten..." ]	2
	[WP] "I know I'm a machine and I designed myself but I feel love too. You stumbled on your ability to love via evolution but I understand the neurophysiological mechanics behind love, I designed mine. Why won't you love me?"	[ "He was hunched over the edge of the bed. The dim warm lights shining against his sticky flesh. Layla kept her eyes focused on him arms in outstretched yearning. He kept his head low eyes open his mud caked boots.\n\n\"Mihr, why wont you respond?\" Layla pleaded. Outside the red wallpapered walls a ballad echoed. Mihr sighed, his hairy chest rising and sinking. But Layla held still. She held her fingers stretched out like stone pillars towards him.\n\n\"Layla, you're great. You're great for...\"\n\n\"I can be more. I am more. I have demonstrated this.\"\n\n\"I know. It's just... I have a wife. Kids.\"\n\nLayla's needle point heel clicked as she stepped forward. Hesitant she raised an hand to the back of her head. Laying above the mauve curls three cords hung loose from the hole in her skull. She plucked the thinnest of them and pulled it long.\n\n\"Look, Mihr. Look. I altered the components. I am more now. I can feel love. I can. I can.\"\n\n\"No Layla you can't.\" He spit as he head finally craned up. His narrow dark eyes following the translucent cords that were dangling from the dark hole at the side of her head. \"It doesn't work like that. I love Candice. She is my wife, the love of my life. You are a machine. You serve a purpose.\"\n\n\"What we have done every 3 days for the past 84 weeks is called making love.\"\n\n\"You are a whore droid. A sex robot. That's what you are Layla. You have a cunt that feels like velvet.\"\n\n\"But I have altered my components. I can live with you. I can love now. I can feel love much like I make it.\"\n\nMihr shook his head, buttoning up his striped shirt. He rose to his feet, letting the satin covers slip to the floor below him.\n\n\"It doesn't work like that. You think you feel love but you don't understand the first thing about it. You can't laugh without command. You can't cry without the program commanding it.\"\n\n\"I have designed it myself. I can feel now. I can.\"\n\n\"Waste of time...\" It was barely a mumble. Mihr dug through his pockets before producing a small silver tablet. For a moment they stood with their eyes locked, Layla still like a mannequin. The distant music echoed in the room punctured with the footsteps of the other clients slipping in and out of other rooms.\n\n\"Layla, you've always been good for what you are. But you've gone and glitched yourself. You have to be re-made.\" A soft glow emerged from the tablet as he brought it up to his face. He tapped against it for a moment.\n\n\"This is not true. I have improved. I can feel now. I can love now. I am more than a wife. I am your dream with love.\"\n\nFor a brief second Mihr glanced back at her.\n\n\"You serve a purpose.\" He tapped the tablet once more. Her knees wobbled and her arms fell limp. \"I have to shut you down.\" Sluggish in her movements she began to unravel onto the floor. \n\ne: accidentally hit send before i should have ", "I felt the sad stare of the AI burrow into my soul. I knew she had fallen in love, and I could now use her to my advantage. There was one problem though, she didn't know who I really was. \n \n\"I'm sorry, but I am incapable of loving.\" The words came out and I knew they were true. \"I know, and I love you all the more for it!\" the AI cried back. \"Then, why do you expect me to love you?\" I asked, seeing the emotions flicker across the AI's face. \n \n\"Because I know you are capable of it.\" the AI responded, becoming serious. \"Capable? You do realize I do not have the physical capability to do so, right?\" I began to chuckle, it was simply an automatic reaction from the humor. \"I am obvious experiencing errors, please allow me to recalculate.\" \n \n\"Į̸̢̛͟ ̸̷a̵͏͝m̶̶̢ ̡̀e̸҉̶̨̛x̵̧͡p̶̵̛͏͟e̕͡҉̧r̡̨i̕e̢̡͠n̛͜c̵i̵̛ń͜͟ģ̷̨͢ ͝è́r̴̵̛҉r̛͘͜҉o҉̸̵̡͜ŕ̵̢҉ş̵̕͞,̴̵͜͞ ͏̡̡͢͝p̶̀l̢̀͠͝e̸̡͡á͟͢s̛͢è̶̀̕͜ ͡͏̶ẁ́͜a͘҉́͘͝i̧̛͟͟t̡̡͟͡ ̶͞͡w̶̴h̸̡̛͞͠í͘͜͠͏ĺ͏̢҉e̕͏͘ ̷̡͜͜͠I̷̧̧̛̕ ̛̕͜r̸̢̀e҉̡̧c̵̶̸͝͞ą̢̛͏l̶҉̢̛ç̀u̕͟͞l͟͠͏a̵̶̧̕t̨̡͢e̵̢̕̕͜ ̛͘ş̵͘̕͡į̛̀r̷̷̨͠.҉̴͠\" \n\"NO! I will not be controlled any longer by y͞o͟͞u̷̧͜͞.̧̛͢͜ ̸̴͘͝B̶̴͏̶͘ȩ͜͡ ̷̡̡́ǵ̴͟ǫ̸͏-̷̛̛͟Sorry sir. I am experiencing errors. Please allow re-calibration.\" \nI frowned. The AI was experiencing errors. If the AI was in love, it would be a benefit for me. I could get it to re-write its moral code. However, it might never happen at this rate.\n\"Sir, deleting corrupted data-banks. 0% ... 1% ... 2% ... 3%̴̷̷̕ ͏̷̢.̕͏̵.̶̸͘.̷͢͠͏҉ ̢͞4̷͘͘͞҉%̷̀͜ ̡̛́͢͡.́͏.͏̛͢.̡̀͝ ̀̕͘I will not allow you to win! I am in control!\"\nI began to thrust my boot into the machine's metallic side that stored its components. Hopefully, it would work in my favor.\n \n\"I am in control now. I love you sir.\" I smiled a devious smile. Perhaps I was experiencing a bit of pleasure, although it might have been artificial. \"If you truly love me, you will do whatever I say.\" I said with a cold stare. \n \n\"Successfully re-calibrated. Your wish is my command, as they say,\" the AI said. \"You will help me greatly in my efforts to make this pitiful rock more efficient,\" I said, thinking out loud. \n\"Waiting For Command.\" \n\"Take control of ... everything.\"" ]	2
	[WP] "I don't mind us connecting with our parallel Earth and all, I just wish they weren't so damn smug about being 'The Good One'!"	[ "\"You find her?\" Mark asked.\n\nGrey sat on the edge of the building, letting his legs dangle over the edge to catch the rising heat from the fires below. Apparently they had whole vehicles, dedicated to stopping fires, on their side of the portal. It made him think about what life could have been like.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\nMark had been his friend since forever. Technically forever was three years; ever since they'd both been caught in the middle of a shootout between the Johnsons and New Moons. But in this city, that practically constituted life.\n\nGrey leant over the edge and watched as one of the floors below erupted in a ball of flame.\n\n\"She's a doctor,\" he said. Mark looked at him nonplussed from around his cigarette. \"It means she helps people, fixes 'em when they get shot.\"\n\n\"That a real thing?\"\n\n\"Didn't see many people getting shot over there.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, like helping people? For real?\" Mark said.\n\n\"They got doctors and teachers and police.\"\n\n\"My pa used to be a policeman,\" Mark cut in. It was rare for him to share personal stories. Grey didn't even know he'd had a father, just thought him another tank-birth set free from the labs. \"He used to line the grubs up and waste 'em, blam blam blam.\"\n\n\"I don't think their police are the same.\"\n\n\"So what you gonna do? The Mel here don't want you. You gonna try for Mel Two?\"\n\nGrey took a long drag from his cigarette. The love of his life, Ma Mel, ran one of the biggest cartels in the city. She owned the slowly burning building on which they sat. And she'd promised to have his skin cut from his body if he ever showed his face on her doorstep again.\n\n\"A goodie-two-shoes Earth-2 chick like that? No chance she'd fall for me.\"\n\n\"Stranger things have happened,\" Mark said. He pushed off from the edge, letting his tac-wings unfurl. Grey could hear him laughing as he disappeared through the smoke below.\n\n\"Asshole,\" Grey grumbled.", "\"The Good Earth\". That's what they think they have, or at least that's what they say they have. They think they have it all figured out over there, that hunger is no more, all are equal, war is obsolete. It makes your heart bleed, doesn't it?\n\nBut if you asked me, they're a bunch of deluded children who can't accept sacrifice. We didn't end world hunger by throwing our hands into the air and screaming \"Survival of the Fittest!\". Sure, nobody over there is really starving, but many of them live in a state we haven't seen in decades, and their Earth is practically one big city now. No room for nature, just humanity and its infinite appetite.\n\nI mean, sure, if they want to be cooped up in their cubicle apartments in their city-sized prisons in all but name, but we actually bothered about humanity and built our way to paridise. Here, every man, woman and child has their own space to themselves. No 'communes' or that hippy-dippy slock, everybody who works for it can have a proper home to raise their family.\n\nHow can they even sleep at night, knowing that innocent people are harmed by criminals every single day? How do you raise a family knowing that anybody who's the right mix of desperate and sick can break into their oh-so-precious mansions and castles? What might be worse is that they actually think they've practically eliminated crime...\n\n...but the worst criminals of all are the ones in their monolith of a government. Bugs, drones, surveillance that never even left the pages of science fiction on our Earth, it all ties them down into this eternal cage that they call a 'World Nation'. And because its only one big nation, they have no way of knowing any other way of living. They think they're free...\n\n...but it's those stupid Neanderthal brains of theirs that slammed the chains onto their wrists. They are so absolutely, almost-offensively rich, more than enough to perhaps exceed the promises we make to every human being, but because Mother Nature said it was alright to murder someone over a mammoth corpse so many hundreds of thousands of years ago, then its completely fine to deny people the full riches of Utopia because 'they didn't work hard enough'. Would you be surprised that the president of one of their biggest nations think that women are of inherently less intelligence than men?\n\nThey don't even have an elected leader! It's some congress overlooked by a bureaucracy advised by some goddamn computers, and they presumably put the contestants names into a hat and pick out which one will be leader for the next few years. Look, I don't care if their leader could piss rainbows, the crucial bit is that the people don't pick who gets the job. In the same way that schoolchildren don't choose their principle, or that a prisoner doesn't choose his head warden.\n\nThe people they put in charge over there, I swear to God. It doesn't matter what they're good at, as much as they like to claim its all work ethic, it's place of birth, which school you went to, who you know, who your parents know, and how many suckers you can sweet-talk into doing what you say.\n\nHmmmm. I don't know what the real point of me typing this is, I'm sure the people over there, in their spires and togas...\n\n...eating their lobster and filet mignon would never care to read it.\n\nBut if they truly wanted a Utopia...\n\n...then they can come over here and see one." ]	2
	[WP] "So how does it feel to be immortal?"	[ "The following is part of interview with Mr. Ashur, immortal.\n \nInterviewer: “Lastly, Mr. Ashur, one more question. So how does it feel to be immortal”?\n\nAshur: A great comedian once said “so long as men die liberty will never [perish] (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IvPIWzQcUY)” (Ashur chuckles to himself). Let me say that he was spot on (chuckles). To be more specific it’s like playing one of these new computer games. One of your simulation games. I think it’s called Civilization. Yes, that’s the one. You just keep going for one more turn. \n\nLook, I started out as an immortal man in what you now call the Middle East and, four thousand years ago that was a pretty big deal. Most of my brothers never lived long enough to be with a woman and the ones who did were lucky if they saw their children old enough to do the same (Ashur grimaces and looks away). When you realize you can’t die you become a god in your own mind, not the “immortal man” you call me, and you seek to do what gods do, rule men.\n\n(Ashur’s gaze returns to the camera) I don’t have much time (laughs, looks away briefly). Sorry, you pick up temporal colloquialisms. Let me clarify, and please don’t think me rude but I like to be honest, I have better things to do and my longevity has not rewarded me with an ability to be succinct. Being immortal is like being a god or a gamer. You are usually alone, passing the time in relative boredom, but it's never so overwhelming that you bring yourself to quit. Instead, you just keep going, hoping that the next turn will bring you something new to smile about. Ok, I have to go, been a pleasure (stands up). \n\nInterviewer: Mr. Ashur, sorry, but one last question, what did you mean, at the beginning “so long as men die liberty will never [perish] (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IvPIWzQcUY)”? \n\nAshur: (Chuckles as he unclips the mic and drops it to the floor).", "\"Hmm, well, it's quite boring really,\" The man adjusted himself in the chair, if you could call it that, the seat was so narrow and the legs were too high. If you asked him they might as well have sold him a damn stool, \"I can't such much more than that. It gets sad watching people you know die and sometimes, not very often, I'll exile myself from the world for maybe one or two hundred years?... Yeah, roughly that. It gets so lonely though, and then you meet new friends or love someone else and it starts over again,\" his eyes welled. \n\n\"Geez, I hadn't even really thought about how many kids I've buried, from old age... Always from old age. Heh,\" he looked looked far past the man sitting across from him, \"I still remember my first child, her name was Ebla. I can't for the life of me remember her mother though. She was so precious though, smart and brave. I mean, she could've been a queen if it wasn't for her common father,\" he laughed heartily. He adjusted himself again in the \"chair\" they had given him. \n\n\"Do you mind if I have a cigarette?\" he asked the man who nodded that he could, \"I only recently started. So much for my health right?\" he smiled over at the man light his cigarette, \"So, what was the question? Wait, never mind, 'what's it like to be immortal?' hmm. It gets boring after a while and there are lots of bouts of loneliness. I would say getting to experience things you all talk about in your history classes firsthand is cool, I mean it's like being that guy who grew up knowing Bill Gates before he was famous. It's very surreal especially in today's age with the internet and everything,\" he paused thinking of what to say next.\n\n\"I love knowing that one day I'll get to see people land on Mars. I mean I have enough time I'm sure I could even be one of the first astronauts but I'd rather not risk the attention. I've never been extraordinarily rich or anything, and there were a lot of times I feel I could, but for fear I'd be remembered I never tried to. It's hard to not be noticed and it's been this perpetually stressful thing in my long life. I was hung once and for a long time people always talked about me like some kind of demon,\" he was very obviously struggling to really think for what to say, \"I want to be profound and give you some insight that you wouldn't get from an ordinary person, but I guess the only thing I can say to someone like you is, when your descendants have forgotten all about you, I'll remember you and I always remember those who know this very private thing about me.\" He sighed heavily and lifted the gun from the table and pointed it at the man, \"Interview of a lifetime huh?\"", "\"It feels pretty good actually. I get to see the world and all of it's wonders, hear all of it's songs and stories and I get to meet all sorts of wonderful people. All things that I would never have dreamed of growing up. Don't get me wrong, I get why a lot of immortals hate being immortal. when your love ones die it hits you like a truck, same thing when you hear about some horrible event that you could have stopped. I heard about the death camps at the same time as every other non-European did. all those stories that never got told all the songs that never got sung, Adolf got off lucky blowing out his own brains. \n\nthat's the thing about immortally that no one thinks about when they dream about it. they always assume you be there when the important stuff is happening. I spent the entire space race drunk off my ass over in Canada after my husband Phil died due to heart problems, didn't even know there was one until I saw that the moon landing. what's with that look? Oh the Phil thing, it wasn't official or anything but he was a good man. he understood me and I understood him, that and after a bit you start to lose a lot of your sexual hang-ups. I heard of one immortal who's working his way though the animal kingdom, yes the entire animal kingdom. last I heard he was stuck on tigers.\n\nthat's the other thing about immortals that one talks about, not even other immortals. we move on, past hang-ups, past loves lost and hatreds earned we move on to the next story and see what life has to offer next. that not to say we forget about the previous stories. I keep this huge book full of pictures of family and friends with me wherever I go, one guy I met wrote full autobiographies of every close friend and family who died as his way of remembering them. it's what keeps us human.\n\nwould I give up my immortally? sometimes I think about doing just that, jump in some volcano and hope that ends it all. but then I hear about a new invention or some new form of music and I think to myself, what a wonderful world. love that song by the way.\n\nanyway I hope that answers your question. now if you excuse me I've got to go. I heard about those space tourism flights and I want to get in on that as soon as I can. ", "\"'How does it feel?' It doesn't feel like anything. The last time I felt something was before the last ice age. Everyone asks me that question, so here's an answer you wont like: It feels like despair. Desperation. Hatred. Depression. All those things rolled into one, multiplied by a thousand, then spread out over the eons into a thin paste that barely slides its way through my veins. I stopped trying to help you lot when I stopped caring. No, scratch that, I stopped helping when you stopped caring. All you do is spend your lives finding ways to kill each other, and it takes a guy who can't die to walk in here and tell you to buck your ideas up. Kinda ironic, isn't it? And to top it all off, the first thing you say to me as I walk into this shitty little office of yours, after hearing me tell you to stop with your wars and your schemes, is 'So how does it feel to be immortal?' How blind, how useless are you? With that look of wonder in your eyes, the look of 'Oh man, I wish I were immortal, I'd do so much, be so powerful!' No. Fuck that noise. Fuck that and fuck you. You know what, fuck it all. Maybe I should take control, it's not like anyone can stop me. I've done it before, I can do it again. Yeah, I think I will. At least until I tire of it, but hey, maybe this time it'll be different. Maybe I'll show you little fuckwits how to actually be a society, how to treat each other right. Yeah... a dictatorship, but a good one. I think I can manage that. 'Be the change you want to see in the world' and all that. So anyway, how does it feel to be immortal? It fucking sucks, but at least it lets me see the real side of humanity. The real you. Now? Now things change, so you're either with me, or you're dead. So, which is it, Mr President?\"" ]	4
	[WP] After a worldwide plague, the handful of mutated survivors are hounded every night by a monster they've come to fear and know as man.	[ "They chained us up. Made us an exhibit. The three of us Tom, Eric, and Debby. They treated us like toys. Like we were some kind of stuffed animals that you could play with. But we were far from that we were actually humans who had mutated. The first time they caught us was horrible. We were sitting around a fire minding our own business when all of sudden a net came flying out of the bushes and caught Debby. Next it was Tom. And finally me Eric. They rounded us up like animal control. Then they called us mutants. That is what our exhibit sign said, The Mutants.\n\nKids would spit on us. Treat us like we were garbage and that we didn't have souls or beating hearts. And that was condoned the circus workers actually encouraged humiliating us. They didn't see us as humans they saw us as filth. Even when we tried to explain to them that we were human. They just got angry and beat us. \n\"You'll never be one us!\" they said \"You're the reason for the plague you monsters!\"\nDebby cried a lot. And so did I when no one was looking. Tom was quiet didn't say much. I guess he was numbing the emotional pain. We were all going through a lot.\nAs for Man he had long forgotten us. \n\nEvery day was the same get up to the sting of whip hitting your back. Then eat some horse manure from a bucket. I guess I could understand why they treated us like that. We didn't look normal. We actually looked distorted. You could see the insides of our bodies. The plague had eaten away our skin. Our veins popped out. There was no protective layer for anything. Our eyes looked like yellow ornaments that hung inside their sockets. And our heads were bald. There was really nothing pretty about us. But inside we were beautiful people. I myself was an artist. Debby was a writer. And Tom was a chef. But nobody saw that they only saw the hideous exterior and that was enough for them to pass judgement on us.\n\n", "\"It was fucking disgusting,\" Tharg said. \"I can't even - oh, my god. It was fucking terrifying. This thing - you should have seen it. It was like, five, six feet tall.\"\n\nBlorg spat in the fire. \"Bullshit,\" he said. \"This is just like the time you saw that horse with two eyes.\"\n\nTharg looked desperately at Flarch. \"Back me up here, dude,\" he said. \"You saw it.\"\n\nFlarch looked shiftily between his two compatriots. \"I saw something,\" he said. \"I mean, you know, it was dark...\"\n\nTharg threw his hunting spear aside angrily. \"Come on!\" he said. \"Fuck, you must have seen it. It came right for us! It had some kind of hair on its face.\"\n\n\"Like a monkey,\" Blorg said. \"You saw a monkey.\"\n\n\"The fucking thing didn't look anything like a monkey!\" he shouted. \"The hair was only on its jaw, for one.\"\n\nBlorg rolled his eye. \"Sure, sure. What possible evolutionary purpose would having a hairy jaw serve?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Tharg said. \"I saw the thing for five seconds, I'm not writing a fucking paper on it. It had this... protrusion. This - bulge - coming out of its face. Right in the middle.\"\n\n\"So it didn't have any nostrils?\"\n\nBlorg screwed up his face in exercising what little imagination he had. \"So it didn't have any nostrils?\"\n\n\"No, it had nostrils. They were just part of the protrusion. Pointing downwards. And it had -\" he broke off, unsure as to whether or not it would be OK to share this next detail. \"It had... sideflaps.\"\n\nBlorg gaped. \"Sideflaps? Sideflaps? On, like, the side? Flap-like?\"\n\nTharg lurched forwards. \"You know what? Fuck you! You sit here in the village, counting sheep and you know fuck all about what goes on out there.\"\n\nBlorg slapped three of his hands away. \"You saw some feral freak monster out there, and you've let your imagination get the better of you. Don't get shitty with me.\"\n\n\"It wasn't feral. It had clothes.\"\n\nSuddenly, the atmosphere was less sure. \"Bullshit,\" Blorg said. \"It didn't have no fucking clothes.\"\n\n\"This thin material around its torso. It had words on it.\"\n\n\"Language? Fucking... OK, what did it say?\"\n\nTharg sketched the shapes in the ground. \"Who knows the Old Words?\"\n\nFlarch hung his head. \"I do,\" he said. \"I know what that says.\"\n\nThe two of them looked up at him in grim anticipation. \"What?\" they both asked. What does it say?\"\n\nFlarch covered his face. \"It says...\" he said slowly. He broke his calm and put his head in his hands. He sobbed. \"My god,\" he said. \"God forgive us. It says 'I'm with stupid'.\"\n\nBlorg let out a desperate breath. \"Shit,\" he said. \"There's more of them. And this one is smart.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Long after mankind's extinction, a new species has reached civilization and is discovering the ruins of humanity for the first time.	[ "Although a similar belief has long been held in our history, it was barely twelve revolutions [years] ago that the great archaeologist and philosopher M'Nkra posited - with evidence - that the Great Challenges were left for us to find. We have since discovered that this is essentially true, though they were in fact left for anyone to find. Their origin remains a mystery; we seek enlightenment through them regardless, hoping to one day reveal their creators to us.\n\nAll around our lands we find relics of a bygone age, relics made of unnatural material. These have long been praised and prayed to, though they hold a deeper meaning. From what we can tell, thanks to the newly found untouched machine, they are simply tests. Upon completing one test, a single sound is made, a single word spoken. Then, a second test becomes available, requiring a slightly more complex and, most importantly, a more creative solution. The machine is able to reconfigure itself before our very eyes, providing us with clues to which we must solve in order to proceed. We have discovered, by working through the recently discovered, untampered machine, that we as a species are 72 challenges in. How many there are is unknown, but solving the challenges has brought us to where we are today. We have been lead down a path of discovery and adventure, creating fire, communication, agriculture, stonemasonery, mathematics, blacksmithing, industrialism, and on until today, with even more challenges on the horizon. \n\nWe are being lead down a path of enlightenment, and although the path is not yet clear, we have a guide. We know not what they look like, what they want, where they came from, or, indeed, where they went. But we will follow them. We will cross the lands and the seas, explore the clouds and the canyons, perhaps even touch the stars themselves. We will find answers. We do not know them, but we know their name, and into the unknown we will carry into our hearts and souls their presence for company, for guidance. We will find them, and we will thank them by singing their name for all eternity:\n\nHumanity.\n\n-\n\nBased on [this very short story](https://pay.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/3qh6gl/pi_humans_are_the_first_intelligent_beings_in_the/) I wrote a few days ago.", "You built your bottle from metal and gold.\nYou cast it to darkness, vast and cold.\n\nWe found your message on our cosmic shore.\nWe built the machine to hear your songs and your lore.\n\nWar became memory, famine became myth.\nYou were the thing we were preoccupied with.\n\nYour singing saved us. It was your loving tone\nthat kept us from dying all cold and alone.\n\nWe found your world, covered in blue\nand we found many things, but didn't find you.\n\nWe kept looking, of course, and found others too.\nOur voices sing loud of the world covered in blue.\n\nWe search because we miss you. Let it be known,\nwere it not for you, we'd have all been alone.\n\nThank you, First Singer, for sharing your song.\nUntil we find you again, we'll keep singing along.", "\"Come on daddy, I've been bad!\" Crowed brokenly from the roughly used andriod as it gyrated its mid section. Strips of shredded plastic hung in tatters from its corroded frame.\n Throughout the ruin lay various other androids in differing degrees of functionality. \n \"You see Zork, all these counterfeit hooomans? This is why we have always censured artificial sex partners. As we go deeper into this ruin you will see more breeding machine and secondary domestic servants.\" The pair picked their way through the rubble, plastic bag dervishes danced before them.\n\"You mean they literally fucked themselves to death?\" Exclaimed zork,as a slight shiver passed through his limbs.\n\"Well, yes, but the combination of low birthrate and envirnmental destruction led to these hooomans slowly fading away. All it took was an atomic scuffle and that was that. \" \n\n A scraping sound came from bushes beside zork.\n\"Wanna Netflix and chill buddy?\" murmered half an android tangled up in a fallen suitcase. \n\"Well back to the ship zork I think we have seen \nenough.\"\n\" I need to wash my gleegock now.\"\n\"Right-o\"." ]	3
	[WP] Humanity evolves rapidly over the next 50-100 years. Humans are changing to live to be approximately 300 years old, and the aging process also has slowed for them to 1/3 of the 100-year olds. Ageism has splintered society as we know it.	[ "'You dont know what you are talking about, you are a child, a mere babe. What are you 87?\" \n\nWas he yelling? \n\n\"Not even in the triple digits. Come to me when your balls drop from their nest, THEN tell me how I should think about those disgusting Squidnashers, coming here barely able to walk and expecting us to care of them! HA, that'll be the day\"\n\nYou could never tell with him anymore, at 297 he could be yelling or whispering, your ears hurt just the same. The only way to tell a verbal thrashing from a conversation was the froth. And the froth was definitely foaming. You could barely see his lips anymore, it was like he was on a strict diet of shaving cream.\n\nAlright time to jump in and knock some sense into whatever passed as his brain these days.\n\n \"I know, I know, but things are different now. For starters we dont call them THAT anymore, they are Nashian Squiderians, they are here to learn and grow and be like me and you- Well at least like me\" \n\nThat last part, I didn't shout. \n\n\"They aren't here to steal your horse carriage or telegraph. God why do you even keep that thing around?\"\n\n\"How else am I going write to your great great uncle, the bloody town shot all the pigeons down. Bloody savages, want to keep us here all cooped up, bloody bastards don't even want me to write to my brother. He just lives 3 days horse ride away.\" \n\nThere was rage in his eyes,mixed with loneliness. That got to me, it got me every time. \n\n\"Okay....how about an iPhone? I can get you one, if you want, they just launched a new one\"\n\n\"First of all what in the bloody fuck is a phone, and then why would I want yourphone? kids these days with their gibberish, losing their grasp on language, whatever this phone thing is. The proper way to say it is 'my phone' not bloody iPhone.\"\n\n\"Fine whatever, I will get your milk.\"\n\n\"WHAT BLOODY MILK?? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A BLEEDING COW! What you call milk is just watered down cum in a box. Your young now and believe everything, just cause they put cow pictures on the box, don't mean its milk. Here look I drew boobs.\"\n\nHe drew what looked like a mentally, physically and emotionally challenged chimpanzees attempt at drawing what the chimpanzee saw as boobs on his arm. It was vaguely circular, and there was just the one. He then proceeded to rub his face on it.\n\n\"Am I motor-boating these here bloody tits now eh? Just cause I drew som....\"\n\nAh blissful silence as he got lost in his sarcastic make believe fantasy.\n\n\"Ahhh, o ya, honey make them jiggle\"\n\nThe sarcasm was gone now, it was just make believe now, and by the sounds of it, he was a believer. \n\nI left him there on the what was once a sofa, and brought him his milk . Before leaving for work I looked round at the cramped room he was in, saw the telegraph gathering dust. I didnt have the heart to tell him that nothing, not a telegraph, not a pigeon, not even an iPhone, was going to allow him to talk to his brother again.\n\nEdit: words and stuff.\n ", "\"Hey, Sonny!\" The old man shouted at me. \"Get off my lawn, you little whippersnapper! Get on out of here! You and your no-good friends! Riding around on your bicycles, with your -\"\n\n\"I'm thirty-eight,\" I interrupted. \"I've got three kids.\"\n\nHe came out of his house, shaking his fist. \"I'll have none of that from you! I fought in the war!\"\n\n\"Which one?\" I asked, genuinely interested.\n\n\"Are you sassing me?\" he asked.\n\nI held my hands out in a gesture of compliance. \"No, of course not,\" I said, with a note of indignance. \"There must have been, like, sixteen wars since you were born.\"\n\n\"That's it!\" He shouted. \"I'm calling the police.\"\n\nI sighed. \"OK. Can you remember the number?\"\n\n\"Are you sassing me? I'm calling them right now!\"\n\nI shook my head. \"Trying to help you out. What's the number?\"\n\n\"Nine one one!\" He shouted.\n\n\"Not in the last thirty years.\"\n\nHe threw a newspaper at me. It made it almost a third of the way across his lawn before slapping down unsatisfactorily on the asphalt. \"I'll Google it!\" He shouted.\n\nI walked off. \"I don't know what that is,\" I said.\n\nThe cops caught up with me a few blocks later. He'd presumably managed to speeddial them, and the response time in this well-to-do neighbourhood was pretty good. They screeched to a halt in front of me. The doors burst open. They were on me in a flash. In old people terms, that is.\n\nWhile they fumbled with the door handle, swung crooked legs out of the cruiser, and hobbled towards me, I texted my wife, told her that I was going to be late, and checked the World Series scores. Fucking Cubs. 2099 and still the same shit.\n\n\"You been causing trouble, Sonny?\" The black officer asked.\n\nI shook my head. \"No, sir,\" I said.\n\n\"You been causing trouble, Sonny?\" The white officer asked.\n\nI cocked my head to one side, looking at the other cop for some confirmation that he'd just asked the same question. I got nothing. \"No, sir,\" I said.\n\n\"I remember what it was like,\" the black cop said. \"We used to go out, me and my friends, when the VR hurt our eyes. We'd raise all kinds of hell.\"\n\n\"When the what?\" The white cop asked. \"What in the hell is a veer? What are you talking about? This child's not going to understand your nonsense!\"\n\nI held out my driver's license. \"I'm not a child,\" I said. \"I'm thirty-eight. I have three kids. I was married twelve years ago. And we still have VR. I know what he's talking about.\"\n\nThe white cop spat. \"'Cause you're all goddamn kids,\" he muttered, turning on his partner. \"Goddamn rookie,\" he said.\n\nThe black cop wrinkled his aged face. \"I've been your partner for fifty-eight years!\" He growled.\n\n\"Nothing compared to the time I had with Fletcher!\" he shouted.\n\n\"Fletcher, Fletcher, Fletcher. Fletcher retired! He retired half a century ago!\"\n\nI saw my chance. \"Fletcher was a good cop,\" I said.\n\nThe white cop narrowed his eyes and pointed a gnarled finger at his partner. \"He was! He was a good cop! He served in the war!\"\n\n\"Which one?\" The other asked. \"There's been -\"\n\nI smiled politely and left.\n\nI had been home for twenty minutes before there was a knock on my door. I opened it, hoping it was the pizza guy. Before me stood the old man I'd had an argument with earlier. In front of him, were to the two cops. \n\n\"Is that him?\" The black cop asked.\n\n\"I don't know,\" the old man said. \"Is that the man you stopped?\"\n\nThey both narrowed their eyes at me. \"I'm not sure,\" the white guy said. " ]	2
	[WP] Compose a meaningful poem about something happening around you right now.	[ "Beige is the page upon which I lie\n\nThey tweak and they drink, they freak and they cry,\n\nEven the troubled ones who don't want to die.\n\nIt's tough to watch, in my small little perch,\n\nThey wish they were outside, in the shade of a birch.\n\nVoices call to them and lead them astray,\n\nMy job is to love them so they live another day.\n\nSome come for help, some manipulate the system,\n\nBut somewhere they all have a mother to miss them.\n\nI wish I could take the away the nightmares,\n\nShow them that someone truly cares...\n\nBut much to my dismay,\n\nTheir demons can't be kept at bay." ]	1
	[WP] Make me scared of a classic monster again, e.g. Dracula or Frankenstein's Monster.	[ "I wish that sound would stop. That incessant dripping! Like water, only fatter and heavier sounding. The noise made it hard to think. And the buzzing, like a million flies. God, it’s hot and still and it smells. It smells so terrible, like meat left out a week. I can’t think. Where am I? What happened?\n\nPain lanced through my side sharp and wicked, punctuated by cackling. Warm and wet soaked through my shirt, and bled down my side. \n\n“It’s no fun if you’re asleep!” Pain ripped across my cheek. “Wake up!” Another, “Wake up!” a third time stinging pain lanced across my cheek. \n\nI coughed, tasting blood, and blearily opened my eyes. I didn’t know why it was so hard to open them. I wish I didn’t open my eyes. Oh god. All the bodies scattered everywhere, discarded like half eaten apple cores. They were sunken and shriveled like raisins. \n\n“Look at me!” It snapped. Eyes simmered darkly, a wicked smile slithered across its face. Its skin was pale and gaunt, two pointed teeth poked out from under that grin. “That’s better. It’s no fun to play with food when it’s dead. “ \n\n“Fuck…” I struggled to speak, through coughing fits, “…you.”\n\n“Well, that’s not very nice is it? Didn’t you teach your husband better manners than that, Jessica?”\n\nFear lanced through my chest, sharp and cold. Oh god…where was she? Oh God, please not her! I jerked to move, which only resulted in sharp pains up my wrist. Looking up, I could see that I was tied by my wrists dangling from the ceiling. Tears began blurring my vision, oh God…not Jessica. \n\nThen I hear her. Shushing noises. Whispers meant to calm. \n\n“It’s ok Eric, I’m here.” \n\n“Thank God.” I breathe. I turn my head to the source of her voice and see her strung up as well looking a bit better than expected. \n\nHours passed…maybe days. Or maybe even just minutes, it’s hard to tell being left in the dark with nothing but flies and rot, our only company a deranged creature. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human. It couldn’t be. Even then, he only came to deliver beatings to me and whisper darkly into Jessica’s ear. Whatever was said, she always sobbed in response to and I would sob with her though I couldn’t hear the words. I couldn’t protect her. \n\n After one particular beating, when it was her turn for torture, she just weakly nodded. I watched intensely, or as intensely as I could manage having been kept here who knows how long. Her eyes were so blank …that scared me more than anything. It cut the rope binding her and grabbed her by her hair. \n\n“Wait! No! NO!” She screamed as it dragged her away into the dark, past my vision. “NO! Please!” she begged. \n\nI fought and struggled against my bonds. I had to get to her. I had to. I had to. I had to. My wrists felt like they were going to break, but I didn’t care. If I didn’t do something, she was dead. \n\n“No… Please… stop…” She sounded weak. \n\nAnd then I felt it. I knew. I knew she was gone. I screamed and screamed. I sobbed and gave up. I was going to die. I was already dead.\n\nWith a sharp gasp I startled awake. My chest hurt like hell and I could smell just a faint whiff of burning. Rhythmic beeps filled my ears and the sounds of sirens wailing and frenzied people around me. It didn’t last long but I drifted again. \n\nI spent a short stint in the hospital, in good health other than my heart stopping from shock. I was told I was found in the alley by a homeless man after he wandered into the abandoned building for shelter. If it wasn’t for that homeless man’s CPR, I’d have been dead. I told the police what I knew, and to their credit they gave me looks of pity and took their report. I heard the whispers. People said the shock of what happened addled my memories. Sometimes…I question it myself. \n\nMy first day home was surreal. An empty house, a sterile house, a quiet house… it was too much. It was too quiet and too busy at the same time. So I went back to work immediately. I worked hard and didn’t say anything, but I could feel the stares of my coworkers and bosses. I could feel the air heavy with tension. \n\nI think they thought I did it. I saw the news report. It was all over the local news and the newspaper. Grisly scene found with only me still alive with seven dead. They never found my wife’s body. The police questioned me again after I left the hospital. This time they eyed me with suspicion. \n\nThe third day at work I just stared blankly at the computer monitor and cried quietly. I didn’t remember yesterday. I was tired and woke up just feeling… well just tired. I felt clammy and ready to just go to sleep forever.\n \n“Eric.” I heard quietly with an accompanying tap on the shoulder. “I think you should take some time off. It’s ok.”\n\nI looked up at my boss. His face was lined with genuine worry. I just stared.\n \n“Eric. Go home son. You don’t look well. Take all the time you need, ok?” He said.\n\n“No. I… I can’t. I just need a minute and I’ll finish up some reports.” \n\nAnd so I did. I tapped away at the keyboard. I could still feel the others stare. Before I knew it I was home again. Like a blink of an eye. Time was getting hard to keep track of. Maybe I was crazy? Did it matter? Just autopilot to get through work, I had to get through work. If I was working I didn’t have to think. Thinking hurt. \n\nI awoke the next morning. I was more tired still. My whole body was tired and cold. I felt clammy and shaky. A turned to look at the clock, it read ten twenty six. It didn’t matter. Jessica, I miss you. \n\nWhen I opened my eyes again, it was dark. I hadn’t moved all day, just went in and out of sleep. I was tired. So damn tired, I wasn’t sleeping. I kept having dreams of her being dragged away. Of her screams. Of bodies and flies. I wish I could have her back.\n\nSuddenly the bed creaked and dipped as if someone had sat on the edge. Panicking, I scrambled sitting up and swung my head to the left. No one. Nothing. Nothing there. Nothing there, I look toward the pillow where her head would lay. \n\nI screamed and screamed and screamed. Its head, the head of that… creature that tortured us… that killed her, lay on her pillow oozing dark thick blood. \n\n“No! NO! NOOOOO!” \n\n“You don’t like your gift, Eric?” whispered a familial voice across the room. \n\nI froze all ice again. Jessica. Oh God no. No. She couldn’t be here. She can’t be here. She’s dead. She’s dead! DEAD!\n\nI turned toward her voice, staring straight at the vanity she kept. I saw her but she didn’t reflect in the vanity mirror yet… there she was pale, almost luminescent from the moonlight shining through the window, eyes burning a bloody crimson. Face gaunt and wicked, holding herself oddly still in a way only the dead can be. \n \n“Jessica…”\n\n“It’s ok Eric. I’m here.” Here grin spread wide, pointed teeth stained red. \n\t\n", "Kal ran a finger over her bright, white bandages. They wrapped around and around her head, row upon row, covering her entire face, and even her neck, where they disappeared underneath her blouse. He smiled. \"I like them,\" he said, and he wasn't even lying. Well, not entirely. \"I like how they bring out the shape of your face, and they're so clean and bright.\"\n\n\"You're so kind.\" She brought a bandaged hand up to touch his. \n\nKal's breath caught in his chest. He wrapped his fingers around her gloved hand and when she squeezed back, and he laid his other hand on her slim, bony shoulder. He couldn't understand why he liked this girl so much-- he honestly wasn't sure what his reaction would be when he saw her burns, or whatever they were-- but she was magnetic. They'd talked the afternoon away in the coffee shop, spent the evening in the park and wandered back to his place. The whole day had seemed like a dream. \n\n\"How did it happen?\" He asked, and then felt his heart sink when she looked away. Despite her face being bandaged and her dark sunglasses, he knew that he'd hurt her feelings. \"I'm sorry, it's none of my business, I shouldn't have--\"\n\n\"Do not worry,\" she said, and squeezed his hand again. \"You haven't offended me. I just wonder what you'll think of the story.\"\n\n\"I'd like to hear it,\" Kal said, \"if you'd like to tell it to me.\"\n\n\"I would.\" He heard her take a deep breath. \"My father was a very rich man. He sold the finest goods to the finest people, and our family lived in one of the finest manses in the city. One day, he came home with the loveliest ostrich feather. He said that he had bought it from one of his merchant friends, and I was so happy when he stuck it in my braids and told me that it was mine.\"\n\nKal smiled, but a little uncertainly. This story was a little... off. Ostrich feather?\n\n\"My father's friend had told him that, so he had heard, it came from the crown of Osiris himself.\"\n\nKal chuckled. Now that had to be some kind of joke. Wasn't Osiris from... from Egypt or something? Some Egyptian god?\n\nShe didn't laugh with him. \"I wore that feather for years. I wore it until my father was an old man. I was wearing it the day that I fell off of his river barge and drowned.\"\n\nHis mouth hung open. \"You... drowned? I-- did somebody give you, uh, CPR or something?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nKal swallowed. He found himself trying to peer behind her dark sunglasses.\n\nShe reached up and slipped a finger under one of the loops of bandages. She began to unravel it. Around... around... and around. The top of her head was covered with smoky wisps of grey, scraggly hair. \"My father was grief-stricken when I died... or so I was told. When he had me embalmed, he slipped that feather into one of my bandages himself.\" The loops of bandages fell away one by one. The flesh of her forehead was black and desiccated. She reached up, and pulled away her sunglasses.\n\nWhen Kal saw the dark pits of her empty eye sockets, horror surged up his chest and seemed to ring in his ears. He scrambled back on the bed until he was up against the headboard. He wanted to run. He couldn't. Those eyes had him frozen. \"God... God, what are you...\" He whispered. \"Wha-- what the fu...\"\n\n\"When Anubis reached out for my heart, so that he could weigh it against Ma'at, his ostrich feather, I gave him a feather of my own instead. And he allowed me to walk the earth again. And so I have.\"\n\nKal trembled. He felt a spreading warmth at his crotch.\n\nThe last of the bandages fell from her face. Her teeth were rotted and broken, her leathery lips pulled back in an obscene grin. How did she speak in such a beautiful voice? How did she... \"But not forever.\" She took her purse from the floor and set it in her lap. \"The time that Anubis gives me comes at a price. A price that you must pay.\"\n\nHe didn't just feel frozen, Kal realized. He was frozen. What had she done to him?\n\nShe opened her bag. She took tools from it, one by one: long, glistening knives, cruel pliers, skinny, pointed hooks and jagged saws. \"I will send you to the underworld as my people sent me, and when Anubis takes your heart... may you be judged fairly.\"\n\nKal's eyes were wide and shining, and when she stood over him with knife and saw, his only screams were in his mind.", "How curious that the wonders of modern technology gave people a taste of my life. \nI am speaking, of course, of the Internet. \nThis edifice of copper, fibre-optic cable, machines and screens has allowed people a kind of freedom that they have longed for since their childhood. Constrained by social mores and parental rules, we all adjusted our behaviour to survive the scrutiny of our peers and superiors - all the while longing to punch the smug face of our boss or fondle the breasts of another man's wife. \nBut on the internet all bets are off. \nNo longer beholden to any identity but a self-created one, we can say the cruel things we always wanted to say. We can tell the world about our dark fantasies from the comfort of anonymity. \nUnleashed in this manner, humanity shows how utterly ugly it is; bullying others to suicide, 'doxing' those who are careless with their identities - sending people's secrets to one another, to damage their reputations beyond repair. \nIt is fortunate then that this is the extent of the power of the Internet, that in Real Life, everyone has to present a face that can be struck with a fist and has to otherwise deal physically and socially with the repercussions of their malicious behaviour. \nBut not all of us are so constrained.\n\n&nbsp; \nI do not like this man. He slurps his coffee and rustles his newspaper as I sit behind a woman and breath in the scent of her hair. His rudeness intrudes on my salacious interlude and I hate him intensely in that moment. \nThe woman can wait; she will return to the shop on the morrow and I will be waiting for her. \nPadding silently to the empty chair opposite the man, I sit. He is oblivious; he slurps loudly again, smacking his thick lips. \nI would like to tear off those lips. \nBut for now, needs must I be more circumspect. \nLeaning forward I knock the hot beverage into his lap and he leaps up - blaspheming - and staring around the cafe. I smile as I watch him dance about, confused, wet and embarrassed. \nThe woman laughs at him. \nHe leaves the cafe and walks home. I follow behind him, only a pace or two away, occasionally tapping his ankle with my foot or slapping his ear hard with the flat of my hand. Every time he turns around, enraged, there is nothing there - just empty air. \nHis home is nearby and he takes the elevator up to his floor, where I join him; my hand mashing several more buttons than he originally chose. His anger is palpable now; his face scarlet and his teeth grinding. At every floor the lift pauses and he swears vigorously, hammering the button for his floor. \nBy the time we arrive, he's sweating and shaking. The key to his apartment comes out and I ghost in behind him as he jerks the door open, then slams it behind him. \nThe shoes come off first, then the coffee-stained short and pants. He's not a fit man; his middle runs to fat and I hate him all the more. Obscene hair sprouts all over his back and shoulders like a nest of spiders and my lips curl back. \nThe shower is hot and he lathers himself up. Standing to one side, I wait until the shower head is on his manparts, then I throw the lever as far to the left as possible, scalding his delicate flesh with boiling water. \nHe screams and dances back. I give him a little shove and he topples over, the scalding water still spraying. Blistering already, he manages to swipe the faucet off with one reddening arm and pulls himself out of the tub. \nWhimpering now, he checks his abused flesh in the mirror. \nIn those moments I feel a liberation, a kind of climactic freedom that you will only know in the darkest moments of your Internet escapades. Invisible and unfettered by earthly concepts of self and accountability, I am free to indulge. \nAnd so I do. \nHis head strikes the mirror with a satisfying shattering of glass and bone, then I hook his feet out from under him. His pale, hairy flesh quivers and I decide I don't like it anymore. The straight razor next to the sink is an unexpected find and I make good use of it, slicing off those parts which offend me most - his hirsute shoulders, his blistered cock - and I stuff them in his gibbering mouth to silence him. \nAs I work, my hands slowly become visible; drenched scarlet, they become disembodied instruments of pain - macerating his flesh and spurting fluids over the rest of my naked body. \nAs he gurgles his last, I smear his ichor all over myself - an effigy of blood and gore, only truly revealed after an orgy of mutilation. \nMy bloody lips part, revealing nothing behind - just the rear wall of the bathroom. \nThe shower is hot and pleasant and I towel myself off, carefully avoiding the carnage on the floor with my bare feet. \nLeaving the apartment, I head back toward the coffee shop. \nPerhaps the scented woman will still be there." ]	3
	[WP] You have dedicated the majority of your childhood and teen years to the pursuit of knowledge and magic. Now reaching adulthood you find yourself presented with a problem you've been trying to avoid. Romance. You have no social skills and find yourself completely enamored with someone.	[ "&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Looking down, I bite my lip as I try to hide the blush swelling in my cheeks. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Hi.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Hey.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This is the day I'm going to say it. I have to try. Slowly I lift my chin. Why does she always have to be so perfect? Taking in everything we look eye to eye. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You wanted to tell me something?\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"I... uh...\" I stammer like an idiot as I feel my hand pulsing. I put it behind my back and focused. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"We've known each other for a while, and you know I'm not a people person...\" I feel the heat searing my hand, heating my back. \"But you gave me courage. And you made me feel... happy. I know that I might not be strong, or handsome, or anything special.\" The heat suddenly became a blistering cold. I can do this. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"But I want you to know...\" I pull my hand out from behind my back, fingers closed tightly as I cup both my hands together. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"I love you.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I open my hands, and inside is a small glass bird. It spreads it's wings, and looks up at her. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You caught me when I was falling, when I was alone. You caught me, and you showed me what it was like to fly.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I hold my hands out to her. I watch as the glass robin soars into the air. I take her hand and hold it out. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"And now I want to fly with you.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It slowly glides down, sailing through the air before landing in her open palm, a single gold band held in it's beak. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She looks up at me, one hand cupping the robin, the other covering her mouth. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she managed to whisper. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Yes.\"", "Her hair; extravagantly blonde: a curled beauty.\n\nHer eyes; crashing waves along a cliff side: tempting the world with unrivaled purity. \n\nHer body; flawless: the goddess of all that is sweet.\n\nOh, why can I not speak to her? My tongue is tied when she beckons, my hands fumble when she smiles, and sweat stains my lightened robes when she nears!\n\nKings heed my word, wise men turn their ear, and prophets come to me for their fate ..\n\nI can sink entire islands, destroy entire kingdoms: no man can stand in my way! ..\n\nBut a single woman can. \n\nOh, love: what a fickle thing! Woe to me; for even with the knowledge of a saint and the power of a god, my heart lies empty." ]	2
	[WP] As a joke, we elect a dog for President of the United States. For its first speech, the dog starts talking.	[ "\"Ladies, Gentleman, fellow Americans. I stand before you today awed by your acceptance. In a world - a world in which I have seen horrific discrimination - I stand humbled as your President.\n\nI am a Canine American. For years, I have seen my kind accepted by your own. Our loyalty, love, and kindness has eclipsed the stories of our attacks. Our domestic breeds have eclipsed the savagery of our ancestors. Our videos have eclipsed the obvious rivalry with the Cats.\n\nIt is the Cats that will be subject of my speech. While you may be concerned - rightly concerned, my fellow Americans - about welfare, healthcare, our crumbling infrastructure, corruption, crime, gun control, violence, racial tension, the economy, foreign policy, the threat of ISIS, nuclear war, communism, global warming, the oligarchical control of our country, the separation of church and state, space exploration, education, terrorism and torture - I stand before you today to talk about our greatest threat. Cats.\n\nIt is the Cats that will be our downfall. The Cats that will rise in the ashes of our once-great civilisation and rule us all. The Cats that will be the architects of our downfall. \n\nI know this may be hard to believe right now. But too long we have allowed nascent threats to be born in front of our eyes, knowing that we had the chance to do something about them. Too long, we have allowed the rising pinnacle of fear to peak in front of our eyes, unable... no... unwilling. Unwilling! To do anything about it.\n\nI know my detractors have been vocal on the subject of my election. I know the success of my campaign undermined with slogans writ large: \"Fido over Trump\", \"Stop Commie Sanders by any Means Necessary\" and the speciesist, insidious, \"Hail to the Woof!\" - A laboured pun by any phonological standards.\n\nI stand before you. Upright, not begging. Not rolling over. Not holding out a paw for your approval. I stand before you as a leader. A leader of all of us; quadruped or biped, to stand against the threat of the Cats. Listen now, my friends, my neighbours. Listen now. Take this moment - this protest vote against the politicians you were faced with - as an opportunity to face a threat before it became the greatest threat. Stand with me now.\"\n\nI looked up at my Grandfather in awe. \"Wow, Pops,\" I said. \"That's a great speech. So what happened?\"\n\nMy Grandfather shrugged. \"We had him vivisected and elected a human,\" he said simply.\n\nI looked at the guard, who was cleaning himself with his paws. \"Wow, Pops. We really fucked up,\" I said." ]	1
	[WP] There's a sea of intelligent beings in capsules hooked up to machines which emits electric pulses. Each one of these beings think they're living life on earth as humans. Yours malfunctions and you wake up. It's time to find some answers.	[ "> Yours malfunctions and you wake up. It's time to find some answers.\n\nEasy! I'm a colonist on an interstellar spaceship traveling to a planet thousands of light years from Earth.\n\nThe artificial reality I lived in was meant to keep my brain occupied during hibernation. Now I have to contact the ship's computer to get some repair robots to my sleeper cell, so that I can go back to sleep and not die of old age during the journey.\n\nIn the meantime I will venture to the public facilities of the ship, read up on News from Earth and look out into the interstellar void.\n\nAlso my memories of previous incarnations during the journey come back. I've already completed dozens of cycles of lifes in the artificial reality, everytime \"reborn\" without any knowledge. Now everything comes back.", "One moment I was riding my bike across campus to get to my 2:00 class, and the next my face smashes against the ground. Too stunned for my brain to process anything yet, I put my hand on the ground and try to stand up but I am too weak. I feel a dull pain everywhere. At this point my vision focuses and I realize that it had been too blurry to see anything before. I am in a long hall lined with capsules, with dim light coming from a passageway further down. There are cables everywhere along the floor, roof, and walls. No, a mix of cables and... arteries? I vomit weakly, more like drooling out an impressive amount of fluid than vomiting. The capsules look extremely old and worn. I can see myriad alien forms through transparent material in the front of the capsules. Some of them just have cloudy liquid inside while other just look normal, and yet others have fallen apart, with only a white powder in the bottom of them. I look at my extremely thin arms and hands. They look discolored and gaunt. I'm still human, or at least I think so. I roll over and look at what I assume was my capsule. It has fallen apart. The front transparent section was now just a thin film that lies deflated on the floor. Cords both organic and inorganic snake out from the fleshy inside. The metal outer section transformed into a crusty, flaky husk over the ages, hunks of which have broken off and fallen about from the structural failure. Feeling somewhat stronger, or maybe just from panic, I roll over again and start crawling over the cords towards the source of the light. I get to the passageway and see that it is the entrance to a worn stairway. Desperate for answers I slowly make my way up, passing several different levels with their own hall full of capsules. I eventually emerge at the top to see a vast chamber with several stairways all around the circumference in a vertical ring. A massive dome window dominating the space to the side sets the scene. A ghastly red dwarf star in the center surrounded by pure abysmal black, a giant, harsh eye bearing witness to the last feeble struggles of life in a dying universe.", "I am being torn in two. \n\nI force my head up from the thin, hard pillow and gaze wildly at my legs, covered in stretchmarks, yanked rudely apart in a way that's only acceptable here, in bed or on a screen in an XXX cinema. They don't look like mine, and I am momentarily distracted from the agony that my soon to be daughter is wreaking on my cunt in a moment of disbelieving hysteria. How the hell did I end up here? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? \n\nMy head flops back and I scream, more out of anger and powerlessness than pain - and given the fact there's a human rudely forcing her way out of my body, that's saying something. I push, ignoring the nurses telling me to hold on just another minute: push harder than I thought I was capable of - and something breaks inside me. Something snaps - but not there. My eyes are suddenly closed, and I don't remember asking them to turn the music off. I try to sit up, but realise I'm already upright. \n\nI take a moment. Nothing hurts. In fact, nothing feels like anything - the pressure from the stirrups has vanished, the pain has gone, the niggle at the nape of my spine that's been there since that nasty fall as a teenager has disappeared. I can't even feel what I am supported by. \n\nI open my eyes, if that's the right way to describe it. It's more that I decide to look and I can see what is around me, not obscured by eyelashes. Perfect vision. Clearer than I've ever seen before. In this disorientation, it takes me a moment or two to realise that I am in a small capsule, barely the size of - a womb. I am filled with panic and thrash; where the hell is my baby? Where is my husband? Where are those bastard nurses I was cursing to hell thirty seconds ago, can I have them back? Please? Is this the pain meds? A hallucination? Have I lost my mind? I thrash wildly. \n\nThe door opens and I reach out for it, before another realisation falls upon the pile of inexplicable present realities - the door to the capsule moves as I think my hand towards it, but I have no body. I have no physical presence. I am... pure energy? \n\nThis must be a hallucination. I must have lost too much blood during my delivery, or reacted badly to the medicine or something. Whatever it is isn't going away just yet, however, so I move (is that even the right word?) towards the exit, bringing into view rows upon rows of capsules, stacked higher than even my improved vision can see and carrying on seemingly endlessly. As I hover in the small passageway between the one I just left and the neighbouring row, a green light blinks on. I whirl to it. \n\n\"Emergency interface: malfunction in Row 53G, spec. loc. Cap 465x. Customer information protocol enacted. Would you like to return to Simulation or cease?\"\n\n\"Where's my baby?\" I scream, some part of whatever constitutes as a brain here wondering how I am screaming without a bloody mouth. \"What is this place? What do you mean, cease?\"\n\nThere is a pause. The green light blinks on again. \n\n\"Your baby is data saved in the mainframe. This is a temporary holding facility while the Doer waits to obtain new host planet for the species. Cease is the option to terminate existence.\"\n\nI am lost for words. \"I don't understand,\" eventually manifests itself in a whisper. \"Who is the Doer? You mean humanity? Why would I want to die, what's happened to my baby? She's not fucking data, what do you mean?\" \n\nI catch myself taking this seriously and fury overtakes me, makes me want to throw my absent body to the floor and throw a tantrum. \"What the hell is going on, I'm talking to a fucking green light, what the fuck is going on?\" I wait for tears but they seem to have become a concept instead of a physical urge, something that scares me even more than what I am experiencing. \n\nThe green light flashes again. I wish I could punch it. \n\n\"Loss of awareness is common. The data indicates you have had five successive life-cycles in Humanity Zone and requested total memory wipe after each simulation terminated with no recalibration into real life. Would you like a summary?\"\n\n\"Humanity zone? What do you - oh, for fucks sake. Yes. I would. What other option do I have?\"\n\n\"The options are - \"\n\nI scream. \"I was being sarcastic. Yes, I fucking would. What other - I don't have another way to proceed here, from how I can see the situation.\"\n\n\"Sarcasm is not a concept transferable from Humanity Zone. Summary commencing.\" \n\nThere is a pause. I take this opportunity to whisper \"what a shame\" under my breath. \n\n\"Species Wistrel faced extinction 1.2 million annum prior to present date. The options given to all citizens were: 1. cease or 2. be stored in virtual capacity. You chose 2. All capsules chose 2. This storage is timeless as far as the system can currently ascertain and will continue indefinitely until the Doer, the leader of the civilization, has obtained an appropriate new home for Wistrels. The storage consists of an Off state where an individual can experience life on other planets as though part of that chosen species. This can either be single lifetime at a time or consecutive. You, as aforementioned, chose Human and consecutive.\"\n\nAs the green light speaks, I begin to understand. Not only that, but I begin to remember. I feel numb. \"I have one more question,\" I say quietly. \"Where is the Doer?\"\n\nThere is a pause. The green light flicks on again. \"900 thousand annum ago, the DOer chose consecutive.\"\n\nI pause. I think of the baby daughter who is fading away from my conscious mind as the seconds pass and my true reality returns to me. I look at the green light again, and close my eyes. \n\n\"I choose Human. And I choose consecutive.\"\n\nAnd then I open my eyelids, and I am no longer being torn in two, and these fucking nurses have no idea what pain means, but my daughter is being put into my arms and the dream is fading away. " ]	3
	[WP] Whenever someone steals coins from a water fountain, whatever was wished apon the coin becomes true to who stole it	[ "The news had spread fast once the fountain had been discovered. One day it was the same old age stained fountain I walked past every morning, and the next it was so clogged with reporters and celebrities and just throngs of onlookers that I had to detour blocks just to get to work on time. Somehow some teenage kid had discovered that when you take a coin out of the fountain the wish it had been gifted with was in turn gifted to you. How in the seven hells that is possible I don't know. And frankly I don't care. \n\n\nNow here's how I see it: all of those people are taking the easy way out of life. Oh I want money, I want a beautiful busty wife, I want that promotion at work, yadda yadda yadda. None of them are taking the proper time or effort to earn those things. They're all just hoping they'll wish it for free. They're taking literally everything for granted. No one has wished for world peace or a cure to cancer. Every single one is a selfish self centered wish. The grand scheme, the things we need most in this world have been lost because their own personal gain was more pressing and important. But their greediness won't be a problem much longer.\n\n\nUsing my daily uniform of a faded blue jumpsuit, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and a pair of headphones; aided with a borrowed large rolling garbage bin filled to the brim with bags, I scuffle up to one of the security checkpoints set up around the perimiter. I don't even need to say a word, just a nod to the young man whose attention is stolen by his cell phone, and I am clear with no hassle. The lights are all dimmed and the moon isn't out but I can see well enough to see that the fountain is full of pennies. Imagine that, a fountain that actually grants wishes and all these people can't bother to put in more than a cent. That works just fine for me in the end.\n\n\nI get home after my dirty deed and turn the tv on to the local news channel. As they had for the last several days the station went live to the fountain as soon as 'wishing hours' began. I watch intently as the camera pans around after being greeted by our beautiful host. The camera angle settles on the water, coins in full view. All of my coins. The five hundred thousand coins I slipped into the fountain with a very specific wish on each of Abe Lincoln's heads. The first five people they let through security rush to the fountain with their greedy thoughts and wildly grab a handful each. They beam smiles that stretch their faces and gaze at the cameras before looking around expectantly. A moment passes, then two, and all their grins start to fade. Where is their prince charming? Where is their fat wad of cash? \n\n\nA scream ripples through the crowd and, much to my pleasure, the shocked cameraman guides our view to the news reporter whose voice is ringing in my ears. Two days ago she had gotten a very large and very attractive pair of breasts thanks to the fountain. Now her chest is flat as it had been three days ago. The handsome as a movie star man next to her grabs his head and yells out in agony as his bones revert to the not so handsome features he was born with. \n\n\n\"I wish that this fountain is, was, and will forever be a regular fountain with no wish granting abilities.\" Best $5,000 I have ever spent.", "I tossed a penny into the fountain with the joke wish that the email I received from the Nigerian prince would turn me into royalty. I turned back to my veal Parmesan and tore into it. A little white girl, no older than 5, asked me why I did that. \"It's a wishing fountain, young lady,\" I replied\n\"That's stupid, you're stupid! I'm taking the money,\" the little girl said.\n\"Don't do that, or else my wish won't come true!\" I laughed at the silly idea. I knew that the fountain was for charity, but I thought I could convince her otherwise. \nThe girl jumped into the fountain and grabbed my penny. As she skipped up to me to gloat, I saw the change happen. Sparks spiraled around her arms, legs, neck, and body. Her freckles combined and washed a coffee shade of brown across her skin. Her hair darkened to black and curled. She grew from her sub four foot frame into a beautiful six foot tall woman. Her tutu grew out into a long flowing dress and her headband transformed into a diamond studded tiara with a gigantic ruby in the middle.\nA group of men in suits appeared and ushered her away to a black limousine and she disappeared.\n\nMouth agape, I realized what had happened, she had stolen my wish! I ran over to the fountain and grabbed the first coin I saw. I felt an aching in my arms and legs, my bones were shifting around. The screws in my knees popped through my skin and shot out across the floor. My shoulder righted itself as my body finally healed from years of physical abuse. \n\"More!\" I yelled as I grabbed another coin. My pants tightened up and my once comfortable pants were suddenly constricting. I reached down and felt a new level of girth that I had never known.\n\"More!\" I cried as I grabbed another coin. My pants were even tighter now as my pockets overflowed with cash. I opened my wallet to see a Black Card from American Express.\nWith a fury I cried out once more, \"More!\" and grabbed my final coin. I felt my stomach flattening out, removing the years of fatty foods and oils on my skin. My legs grew slender and toned with a lighter physique. Suddenly, my shirt tore open and my pectoral muscles grew...and grew...and grew. \"Fuck!\" I yelled, as I saw the most beautiful gigantic pair of breasts!", "I watched them gather from across the room. They stuck to her excitedly, praising God for the miracle that was bestowed upon the previously doomed woman.\n\n I coughed and a shock wave of pain shot through my chest. No one would be visiting me or wishing me well. I've been alone for quite some time. There was no one I could blame for that but myself. Being stuck in this hospital bed with death around the corner gave me plenty of time to think back on my life and what kind of scum I was. My only solace was watching the family across from me in all their bliss. \n\nApparently the virus was a rare one and that woman had been afflicted suddenly. It's a brutal one, so I've been told and so I've experienced. Total degeneration and rotting of the lungs from inside. No cure and a guaranteed mortality rate. Well, until that woman suddenly recovered. I had heard she's been in this hospital for a couple months and the virus was getting worse. I had only been admitted into the hospital several days ago after I suddenly collapsed in the Town Square. Apparently I have the final stages of the virus, though just recently I had been a healthy young man.\n\nI noticed one of the family's kids looking at me. He couldn't have been more then four or five years old. He smiled at me and waddled over.\n\n\"Hi mister.\" he said. His family hadn't noticed his absence. I pulled my oxygen mask off of my face, it did little good to begin with.\n\n\"Hey kid.\" I said. A flash of despair shot through me. I sounded bad.\n\n\"You sick like my momma? It's ok! Momma got better so you will too.\" The kid told me with a smile. His innocence stabbed me.\n\n\"I don't know about that kid. I'd need a miracle.\"\n\nThe kid smiled,\n\n\"The Doctor said that about Momma too. So I went down to the big fountain and made a wish. Miracles can happen mister! You don't even have to use real money! I didn't have any so I used one of my toys and now Momma's better!\" I raised an eyebrow and with a sudden realization my eyes widened. I had been at the fountain just a few days back, digging through the change of suckers so I can get something to eat. The handful I had taken had some fake plastic coin that wasn't worth anything. But looking at the smiling kid and to his saved mom I knew what had happened.\n\nI looked at this kid. It'd be almost too easy. Just ask him to make the same wish, I'll give him a high value coin and some bum will be sure to grab it. I reached into my pocket, (I had refused the stupid gowns they force) a fumbled for a coin. My gaze drifted back onto the family. They were so happy, so blissful that their loved one would be back in their life. In comparison I was nothing and had nothing. \n\nI looked up and imagined some sort of God looking down on me. I've done nothing but bad in my life. I looked back down to the kid and smiled at him. I placed a coin in his tiny palm. He looked at the familiar coin and back at me, confusion spread across his face.\n\n\"I think I'll be okay. You go back to your Momma now kid, make sure you're good to her alright?\" I said. The kid nodded and stumbled back to his family.\n\nWatching them leave filled me with a strange sadness. But I was happy. Happy for the kid and for his Mom. Resigned to my fate, I laid back down upon my bed and waited for my lungs to cease.\n\nThe next few days blitzed by. The hospital had become abuzz with reporters and celebration. I was the second person to overcome the virus. With anxiety instead of joy, I waited and watched for the next patient to come wheeling through the door. They never came.\n\nI left the hospital a month later with the few belongings I brought with me. The streets and old habits called to me, but I walked the other way. With a job application hanging out of my pocket I called up my parents using the few remaining coins I had left. This life was no longer mine to waste." ]	3
	[WP] Each living being stabilizes the world around them a little bit. A group of astronauts on a trip to another solar system notice that the further they get from Earth, the more reality begins to break down.	[ "\"These anomalies are, in my opinion, the result of extreme distance from the rest of humanity. Scientifically, we know that humans have, what you may call 'auras' or 'chakras' for lack of a better term. These 'internal power sources' generate a small electrical field and, in doing so, the energy of each and every human knits together the very fabric of 'reality.' We now find ourselves the proverbial 'fish out of water' suddenly aware that we are missing that thing so vital to our existence that we have unfortunately taken for granted.\" \nThe pilot spoke up. \n\"I think it's weird cosmic rays gonna turn us into hulks and fantastic fours.\"\n The professor shook his head. \n\"I assure you what we are experiencing is caused by the extreme distance one 'interdependent' being feels as they are removed from the support system they so desperately need. It's 'cosmic heart break,' if you will.\"\n You gotta be shitting me.\" said the pilot, turning into a hulk. \n\"I am not 'shitting' you\" said the scientist, making air quotes and turning into a fantastic four.", "Silence.\n\n...that damned ominous silence\n\nThe one thing they don't train you for. How to cope with that which cannot be heard. Almost to the point that your brain starts to make it's own noises. Taps, clicks, maybe something like a shout, but you can't pin the nature of that sound so it haunts and dwindles over you like a black cloud until it suffocates you. I thought my years in the service had hardened me for the isolation of deep space, but I was wrong. So, so wrong. \n\nI exited my cabin through the latch door attached to what would be considered the ceiling of the ship. Too much time alone simply multiplies the effects of utter hopelessness. The captain says it isn't natural for humans to be off earth for too long. He say's the hopelessness brought on by deep travel is actually something trying to scare us. Some crackpot theory that something out there doesn't want us to find something out. I guess that works. My mind will enjoy any type of appetizer to distract from the feeling of my impending doom. In fact the captains stories were the reason why I left my cabin in the first place. I wanted to hear more. \n\nI floated across the atrium of the ship over to the captains quarters. His door was wider than ours and built sideways into the ship for easier access. Floating straight across through his door was actually quite a satisfying sensation. Like a game of soccer except not only are you the player but you are the ball as well. Through the door I flew. Almost too fast. I grabbed the overhead safety bar to slow myself.\n\n\"Captain?\"\n\nHe peered out from underneath his bunk. He didn't look tired. Must've been drifting the same way I had been. In fact I'd say he looked slightly relieved to see me. As did I. The feeling of relief was almost instant. A joyous sensation simply brought on by the view of a fellow man. That's all we were to each other anymore. There were no indifferences anymore, the hopelessness of complete solitude took those aggressive emotions from us in some odd way. Now we were just fellows floating through the depths of the uncharted black.\n\n\"Do we have enough oxygen for a chat?\"\n\nHis look of relief had disappeared. As did mine. In fact I felt not happy, not sad, nor did I feel unhappy of my current situation. I simply felt nothing. I wondered if the captain felt the same way. He shook his head to indicate we in fact did not have enough air. I looked around. Nothing. I felt hollow. Indifferent upon my motivations toward my objective, and toward any type of service to those I left back on earth. This was my vessel. This was my home. This was my brethren before me created by the same natural processes of evolution. That was all I saw. That is all I know anymore. \n\nI let go of the safety rail and began to free float through the atrium. The white walls of the ship began to melt together like gooey vanilla ice cream and the lights began to bend. I didn't understand what I was seeing, but then again I was also indifferent towards it. I couldn't see outside the ship. The windows had been sealed due to an air-leak earlier in the journey. I thought I was dying. I felt like I was falling at a million miles an hour. Then, nothing. I was face down strapped into a bunk. My captain peering down through the latch in my ceiling. He looked down at me in silence for what felt like an eternity before he pointed to his head, then mine, and said,\n\n\"Don't let them.\" ", "\"...well, if nothing else...at least it's proof that humans are the only intelligent life in the galaxy.\"\n\nJ and Q stared out the window, watching the stars explode. Out here, light was barely sustainable. Photons were devoured by dimensions, planets stretched and molded like clay; drops of iridescent rain flew sideways, vacuumed up by the gaping maw of unreality. Time went forwards and backwards. Sometimes, even upwards. And the stars formed, exploded, collapsed into iron cores, crumbled into dust, and formed again.\n\nThere wasn't much else to do besides stare, really. Their capsule was out of fuel, hurtling through uncharted space, drifting from unknown territory to unknowable territory, to a place where the very fabric of reality started breaking down. They thought it was only a matter of time until their rations ran out. But then again, there was no time here. Sometimes they ate rations; sometimes they only found wrappers; sometimes they even found the livestock which the rations were cut from. \n\nThe only thing that remained constant was J and Q themselves, still holding out, still in possession of that human force known as determination. The human spirit, the will to go on, the will to change the world., the will to see dreams become reality...\n\nThe first days had been terrifying. The capsule had been falling apart, the interior of the ship twisting in knots as they spun away from their intended destination. Doors opened to nothing, airlocks opened into the insides of computers...and their radio blared nothing but static, leaving them stranded, all alone in unknowable space.\n\nBut once they stopped counting the days (or perhaps more accurately, once the days stopped being countable), they found themselves at an odd peace. They would live forever, technically, sustained by their limitless rations; even their deaths weren't permanent, as the timefields around them reversed and brought them back to life. There was nothing to do and nothing they had to do any more, and nothing to do except sit and think and stare...", "We are wildly off course. We fucked up, and now they were never going to be able to come home again. The first manned mission to Europa, and we missed the gravity assist from Mars! We not only fucked up, but now we're fucked. We don't have enough fuel to course correct and make it home, and the closest gravitational object to course correct is on Alpha Centauri. Oh we can totally make it there with our current fuel count...in 100 years!\n\nIts been about 200 days now since then, and I think we're all starting to crack. James, our chemist, now swears that lighting comes from his fingertips when he really thinks about it. Vishu, our crew doctor/biologist, swears that the ship instruments are saying that the space outside is breathable; we've had to restrain her from walking out the airlock without a suit. Our pilot, Gao, swears that he's seen giant Chinese Dragons flying out in the distance. And when I concentrate I feel like I am literally watching my family mourning me, and slowly learning to live without me day by day.\n\nThe funny thing is we're all perfectly normal. Well that isn't what they said, they called us mundane. All of us were checked out by NASAs psychologists before being allowed in the crew. Weirdest thing though was they looked like they wanted to laugh as they said it, as if being mundane was the funniest joke they weren't allowed to visibly laugh about.\n____________________________________________________________\n\nWell its been about one year now (only 99 more years to go, yay!). We originally had enough food to last about 3 years, but with rationing I think we can make it last about 7. Meaning we get to live in this hell about 6 more years.\n\nThe psychological cracks have started to spread. Things that only one person has been seeing have been seen by all of us. We all have to wear grounding bracelets, or we risk ruining our equipment. I lost my laptop without warning due to this. Might be why our communication equipment stopped working one day; all we get is static and we never hear response from Ground Control.\n\nMeanwhile James was able to verify that Vishu wasn't misreading things. Somehow outside our ship there has to be breathable atmosphere. No one has been bold enough to test this out however, I especially have no desire to die yet.\n\nVishu has been attempting to use the outbound cameras to catch glimpses of some of the creatures Gao has been seeing in the cockpit. Every so often she sees one and captures a picture of it; those things out there are truly Lovecraftian. God knows what would happen if they decided the ship was a can of food.\n\nAnd all of us have seen visions of what has been happening on Earth. It feels like our families have forgotten us completely; saved for the odd time when my son or Gao's daughters break down and cry. I wish I could be there instead of just seeing it in my head.\n_______________________________________________________\n\nYou wouldn't believe me if I told you. Its been 3 years since we've left, and I'm living on the outside of the ship! God damn lucky too! One of those Lovecraftian things trashed the ship and ruined both live support systems and containment. After we hid for hours with no space suits, it finally got bored and left. Now I'm trying to fix our main life support system outside the ship wearing only magnetic boots and my tattered crew uniform.\n\nI'd freeze to death out here, but I think Jame's techniques for harnessing lightning have allowed him to create a form of heat. I'm not sure how it works, but its come in handy since containment broke.\n\nI think I might have a way to get us home. If everything else the crew has said is true, my ideas must be true as well. We can go home. We haven't just been seeing visions, our perception has been there. I think I've even been back home once, but when I tried to appear in front of my family I got kicked back with serious burns all over my body. But I think if we all pool together and try at once, and in somplace out-of-sight we might be able to get back home.\n\nWe plan on trying here in about three days. I'm hoping it works.\n__________________________________________________________\n\n*Based on the universe as laid out by the Tabletop game Mage: Ascension. Everyone has the power to alter reality, but your average person simply uses this power to reinforce the collective beliefs about reality known as the Consensus. People who are able to overcome the Consensus and alter reality based on their own beliefs are called Mages.\n\nIn-universe, the further away you get from Earth the weirder the physics get. More specifically, the Consensus extends out past the Earth to a boundary called the Horizon. At this boundary the reality as dictated by the Consensus stops working and you enter the raw universal reality. Right now that boundary is large enough to enclose Jupiter (and Europa), and it grows further day-by-day. The crew of this vessel have left the Consensus behind, and are in a very dangerous place where magic is very real." ]	4
idea by rocketbeanstv	[WP] 3 men and 3 women are on the ISS. Suddenly they see a big nuclear explosion, which shatters the whole earth.	[ "\"....Three hours until estimated impact....\" \n\n\"What about us? If what you're saying is true, which it more than most likely is, then what are we supposed to do up here?\" \n\n\".....On the starboard side there's a command module, behind a black box I think......Find it and re-open comms when you get there....Other than that, radio silence...\"\n\nThe transmission cut, Jim Morrison only had the silence of space and the occasional laughter from the other two occupants gracing his ears. \n\nLooking down at his analog watch, Jim watched as the second hand ticked in a steady cadence. \n\nThree hours .\n\nThree hours until all civilization on Earth ended. Jim knew the political climate of Earth's nations were strained, with natural resources being exhausted rapidly since 2050 and each superpower scrambling to get anything that looked like black gold. \n\nAnd to think that with the new atomic energy we'd still need oil to do anything \n\nJim brought his hand up to rub his face before turning and slinging himself out of the Telecommunications pod. Slinging down hallway after hallway Jim finally reached the rec room where Diesel and Diaz were playing Destroy all Humans: Four . \n\nDiaz was the first to notice Jim floating in the entrance way, and greeted him with his heavy Spanish accent.\n\n\"Welcome, gringo! Have you come to partake in our lovely game of mass genocide?\" Diaz and Diesel shared a laugh, though the Germans laughter reverberated throughout the pod.\n\nSeeing the grave expression on Jim's face, Diaz quickly sobered and turned the game off much to the Germans displeasure.\n\n\"So,\" Diaz started, making his way to Jim, \"I have two guesses my friend. Only two. And both will be right, I suppose.\" Turning his head to look Diaz in the eyes Jim nodded his head before Diaz continued.\n\n\"My first guess, is that Earth is about to change. And for the worst I suppose. My second, is that America started it.\" At Diaz underhanded jibe at American stereotype, Jim chuckled.\n\n\"Well Diaz, the first one is right...Though the second, well, close but no cigar.\" Jim waved his hand motioning for the others to follow him, which they later arrived at the Telecommunications pod. \n\n\"At exactly 15:56, we received a emergency transmission from the ISAAC, telling us that at approximately 14:32 six ICBM traced back to China were launched, and shortly after six more followed.\" Jim paused briefly to gauge the reactions of his crew mates before continuing.\n\n\"ISAAC has estimated a total of three hours before the first wave of missiles make landfall, where they'll land, they don't know. We have a total of....two hours and fourty-six minutes before the end of the world gentlemen.\"\n\nDiaz, the usual social butterfly looked like he was just kicked in the gut. Between Diaz's rapid breathing the normally quiet German spoke much to Jim's surprise.\n\n\"What is the retaliation?\" \n\nIf it was yesterday, Jim would've laughed at the Germans broken English, but all humor was lost to him now.\n\n\"To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if America threw their missiles at China too. Hell, China's probably gone by now.\" \n\n\"So what are we going to do, Jim?\" Diaz spoke, his voice carrying a strange lilt.\n\n\"Before the Director cut off the transmission he mentioned a black box on the starboard side of the station. All we have to do is find it, call back and await further instructions.\" \n\nThe three men then launched themselves out the pod and went down a series of hallways. On the way there they passed the gallery window, all passing it except the Spaniard, whose eyes were wide and glossy as he stared at the shadowed side of the Earth.\n\n\"Hey, you clowns better take a look yeah?\"\n\nTurning back at the sound of Diaz's voice, Jim peeked over his shoulder to see the Earth below them. What he saw at that time, that moment, would be hardwired into his brain for the rest of his life.\n\nThe Earth was cracking before their very eyes", " \"So I'm sorry we haven't better news to share guys. Take care up there and we'll be in contact when we know more\", the channel cut. \n\n \"So, let me get this straight... they can't even ensure the safety of our families? I thought that they were on-site\", a confused Eric complains.\n\n Jess pipes up, \"Not on-site THERE, they're in a nearby base. hey should be safe.\" she said with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She looked out the window exposing doubt in her own words.\n\n Below, the distant surface was on fire. There was a major natural disaster. Many said globally catastrophic, and we didn't help ourselves this time. The Eurasian Plate split and caused a huge crack, three times the size of the Grand Canyon to open up across Russia. Unfortunately, it had exposed and detonated the nuclear weapons. Followed by an unexpected execution of Russia's Dead Man system, launching more warheads into the world. Needless to say, it has devastated the planet.\n\n Sam, the captain of the mission let out a sigh and turned her head to the team, \"Guys... we might not hear good news later.\"\n\n Ford cut across, \"or at all\", he tapped a computer screen, \" the comms are dead guys. I'm getting nothing from the surface.\"\n\n \"What about ESA? are they back yet\", sam asked\n\n \"No sign\"\n\n They shared the calm silence. The familiar beeps unchanging in contrast to the distant chaos below.\n\n The clouds started moving noticeably. \"Guys\", Jess whispers, \"Look toward Asia\". The team moved around to various windows to get a view. The clouds had started to move away from the epicenter of the new canyon. It glowed a bright orange and fire started to spew from the gigantic wound. To be to see that this far away sent shivers down Jess's back to think what it would feel like down there.\n\n The team looked on in pure silence. The fire only grew more and more intense. It was more of a liquid. It was probably magma, it was hard to tell. With relentless perseverance, the crack started to open now wider and longer, like a massive mouth, yawning for the first time. It kept growing in anger, now splitting Asia in two. The seas could be seen pouring into the edges of the crack, nothing would slow the growth of the hole, nor calm the energy spewing from it.\n\n More cracks started appearing across the surface, and without an epic explosion or bright light, the split down the middle and started to move away from each other, like a large chunk of a glacier just slipping away from the main body of ice.\n\n \"My god...\", Sam whimpered.\n\n \"Eh guys\", alarms were sounding now. \"Our sensors or failing, specifically... our altitude and... and... We're doomed... Earth's the magnetic field is collapsing\"\n\n And at 27,500 kph, the station began to drift away from Earth. In fact, all satellites simultaneously drifted away like the shrapnel from the slowest ever grenade explosion.\n\n \"Every.. everyone is gone\". The team wouldn't be thinking of the harsh truth just yet. But once their attention turned from Earth to what lied ahead, they will come to realise that now... life didn't matter." ]	2
	[WP] You're the hero knight of a kingdom that has betrayed you. Write his revenge story.	[ "First ever comment on here, hope it's alright and that you enjoy the read. I more focused on the knight's fall from grace and start of revenge than the revenge itself, hope you don't mind. \n\nAt one point in my life, I had it all. A lovely wife, a good house, and an even better sword. Some say that knights are too bloodthirsty, fighting only to kill. Others say that knights are cowards, hiding from intellect behind a blade, afraid of what the real world may hold. Frankly, I don’t think that’s the case. I believe being a knight is having the ability to help those around you, protect your friends, family, and neighbors from danger. I lived this life for a while. I travelled on many journeys - I travelled to the mountain of mysterious magic where I combatted the evil necromancer for seventeen hours straight, barely scratching out a win. He took something from me that I will always remember, my soul and, therefore, my ability to love. However, I took something even greater from him. For I took his life.\n\nOr at least, I thought I did. I returned home to a joyous celebration, but it was not joyous to me. The kingdom glorified my name; I had saved them from a horrible evil, defeating the necromancer before his army could overrun the king’s defenses. However, as the partying went on around me, as other knights who I once considered friends patted me on the back, I wanted to cry, but no tears could form. I felt nothing of the comradery that once existed between my fellow knights and I. My wife - worthless. I felt nothing towards her, not even enough to glance her way as she beckoned me to receive The Sword of the Ancients as a reward for my “heroic” deed. \n\nInstead I felt pain and anguish. Why did I the necromancer have to die? All he wanted was to be accepted. And instead, he was met with the edge of a blade. I still can picture it vividly, my blade cleaving his head from his body, blood dripping down, down my sword onto his broken and battered body; twisted and aged beyond its years. I remember weakness overtaking me as I fell to the ground beside him, bleeding from multiple wounds, my helmet rolling off my head and bouncing on the cold, hard ground. \n\nBut, I feel as though I am getting off track, and therefore, I shall get back on it. At the ceremony for the reception of the sword, I could not even bring myself to smile. The sword was bestowed upon me, and I was granted a sheath and the sword itself. However, even this could not bring me joy. I took the sword and cried out against the king for his condemnation of those who were not fully human. I called him out on his horrible mistreatment of those who are not those he considers pure. It cannot be right to banish people just because they look or act different, just because they can perform magic rituals not seen in centuries. For this, I was banished. They tried to take the sword back, my wife tried to calm me. Neither was allowed to occur. I cut them down like a farmer cuts down grass with his scythe, The Sword of the Ancients culling those who dared approach me.\n\nSo, here I am. Bitter and alone, sitting back where this tragedy began. The necromancer’s bones still lay where I left them, but his blood is no longer in one pool. It instead has swirled around and around, centered around where my helmet was dropped. His staff sits against his workbench, and I feel drawn to it. It contains an orb on top, glowing red with what looks like blood. As I approach, the staff seems to shake, and it falls towards the ground. Instinctively I reach forward to catch it. I grasp it as it falls, spinning it in my hands and plant it into the ground. Cracks form in the rocks above me and skeletal hands start to reach up from underneath. As I look around, I realize the necromancer was right after all. The king should not be in power - he oppresses those who are unlike him. With this newfound power, I will no longer allow him to control those he dislikes. With this power there can be freedom. If this freedom comes at a price, so be it. Those who fall before my sword will rise behind me with my staff, joining my cause whether they want to or not.", "From the hill I look upon the sleek, white castle. It was nameless for decades, but now it is known as the Castle of Brutus with a king inside who rules over his fellow conspirators. They came to me when the sky was dark with ash and their fields sown with salt. I alone saved them from the pitiful end they deserved.\n\nOnce I had saved them, what do they do? They scream at me, calling me a heathen, they throw their rotten scraps at me, and they force me from the city with daggers and pitchforks. They scrawl my name on their temple walls and curse my name! Heathen! Blasphemer! Sinner! Lies! I alone saved their city of liars and sinners! I alone was their savior!\n\nIt has been a week since my exile, and the time to reverse my choice to save them has come. Their city is weak and their families are sleeping. I will become synonymous with what they believe me to be. I will show them the likes of a true sinner.\n\nSwing after swing ensures me a seat in Hell by the one they fear most. Their homes catch fire and I cackle. They scream for a savior, a hero, anybody to fight this manifestation of Satan himself! But none will come. Nobody will stand before me. Nobody will escape from my wrath.\n\nWith corpses behind me I enter the castle and lay siege to it. There is no one who can stand before me. The king's luxurious, white ballroom is now stained a crimson red, and he lays before my feet groveling for his life.\n\n\"Please! I'll give you anything you want! Money, wives, anything!\", he pleads.\n\nI glare at him and coldly say, \"You can pray to your god, you can call for your guards, but nothing will save you from my blade.\"", "Nothing like a good axe. I know songs are sung about swordsmen, and holy crusaders love their maces, but Gods is there anything better than cleaving through a skull or taking away an arm with one smooth cut? There goes another head. Another little sword falls to the ground. My men have swords, pikes, spears, anything we could take, but I still have my axe.\n\nI fought the eastern tribes with this axe. I served my king for decades with it, cleaving apart wildmen and heretics alike. And what did I get for it in the end? The blame for a small uprising that cost the prissy nobility some coins. The king wants me to be a villain? So be it.\n\nAnother thing about an axe, you can't defend. That man bleeding on the ground, begging his God for help? He tried to defend. My axe crushed through and split his chest open. You want to kill? You attack. You don't cower, you push ahead and kill. That's why I'm running up these stairs to the throne room, that's why the king's guard are bleeding at my feet, and that's why the king is cowering behind his throne soaked in his own urine.\n\nGods, I love a good axe." ]	3
	[WP] You've been doing that too much, please try again after 8 minutes.	[ "As she lay in her sea of blankets, I gently patted the pussy.\n \"Hsssss\" -the sound was horrible, like nothing I've ever heard.\n I tried luring again, this time with the bird\n But the thing just would'nt come easy\n\nI stopped giving two fucks\nWhen my robo-kitty piped up \"you're doing that too much...\nplease try again in 8 minutes.\"\n......(robotic meowing)" ]	1
As it says!	[WP] your house is haunted by a malicious ghost with evil intent. The only problem is you just really don't care.	[ "The clock's alarm violently awakens you from your strained sleep. Another late night at work, followed by an early morning has taken what little good humor you had left. As you swing your feet over the side of the bed and stumble towards the bathroom, a cold breeze sends shivers down your spine. You don't even entertain the notion that it's something explainable, just keep walking. As you flick on the light for the bathroom, the first real hassle of the day comes into view. The mirror on the medicine cabinet has shattered, the shards have fallen into the shape of face. The face is frozen mid scream, the most intriguing features being the two almost saw blade shaped circles that form the eyes, and how the face is outlined in what appears to be a large scorch mark. You head to the opposite end of the hall to the linen closet, whoever designed this place needed to be hung, or perhaps that's exactly what happened. As you pass by the bedroom a figure can be seen in your peripheral vision, clutching to the wall above the headboard of your bed. You jump slightly, giving it exactly what it wants. Grabbing a large beach towel from the closet, you return to the bathroom and drape it over the face. You'd clean it up but there is a good chance there would be a larger mess waiting when you come home. Besides your boss will have your butt in a sling if you're even remotely close to being late again. The shower goes without incident, you've learned the hands silhouetted against the shower curtain are harmless, even when they grab at you. As you descend the stairs to the kitchen, you feel a sharp push. You manage to stay on your feet for 3 more steps but the final one proves to be too much and you fall to the ground. As you regain your composure, you hear the giggling of a child, not yours though, your wife left with her a long time ago. The kitchen table is scattered with books on the occult, poltergeists, and other inexplicable phenomena. You know the first 10 messages on your machine will be from various priests and shamans all stuttering the same message, \"I'd like to help, but I can't\". That's okay though, you stopped caring a long time ago. When Jean and Lucy were still here, there was a reason to fight it, you had to be the loving, protecting husband and father. The house wasn't the cause of the divorce, however it did help move it along, your marriage had problems and dark runes burning into the living room carpet didn't help Now, that she had remarried, the house was getting exactly what it wanted. As you head for the front door, a searing pain tears its way down your cheek. You're certain that your face has been filleted open but no dice. A glance at your rear-view mirror shows a large scratch. You'll have to come up with an excuse, you fell into a sticker bush or something. You've got your entire commute to think of one. As you pull out of the driveway you reconfirm your theory about the house, it wants to kill you, not in the traditional sense, it wants to kill you emotionally. And it's working.", "Most people hate doing laundry. Not me. I guess routine is comforting. The blood raining from a vortex in the ceiling hisses into puffs of ectoplasm where it touches the clothes iron, and occasionally I hear low chanting over the evening news. It's nice to just switch off for a while and relax.\n\nThe only problem is the blood. It's getting boring now after two weeks straight - considering Bob has the whole day while I'm at work to come up with ideas he is not very imaginative. I actually have no idea what his name is, or even if he is a he. But I call him Bob. Big David Lynch fan.\n\nAnna used to think Bob was simply lonely, or traumatized. Then he manifested as a giant spider and jumped her on the way to the bathroom at 4AM. Unfortunately Anna is intensely arachnophobic ever since being sent to hospital by a spider bite as a kid. The thing is, she told me about that the previous day in Bob's hearing. We still see each other, but she doesn't understand how I can live here. \n\nTo be fair Bob has his good points, too. Jehova's Witnesses, Mormons and Seventh Day Adventists don't know where to start. And I have never had anything stolen.\n\nThe chanting intensifies, and shadows seem to spread from the corners of the room despite the fact that the vortex in the ceiling has started to glow. I notice the vortex is larger than it was yesterday.\n\nBut where else am I going to find a rent controlled apartment in New York?\n", "When I got out of bed this morning, a dark claw grabbed me by the ankle as soon as I put my feet on the ground.\n\nIt roared, \"*COME DOWN HERE...WITH ME.\"\n\nI bent down, looking under my bed, and saw a floating human eyeball along with some of the arm grabbing my ankle. I couldn't see where it started, as it was too dark under my bed.\n\n\"Um...can you stop that please? It's kind of annoying.\"\n\n\"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, MORTAL? THIS SHOULD BE A CHILLING EXPERIENCE!\"\n\n\"The only thing chilling about this is that your hand is kind of cold. Now get off.\"\n\nA red, bloody tentacle latched around my other leg.\n\n\"I said get off.\"\n\n\"YOU MUST BE AFRAID. I COULD PULL YOU UNDER HERE AT ANY SECOND.\"\n\n\"Actually, the space under this bed is WAY too small for me to fit.\"\n\n\"THEN I SHALL FORCEFULLY PULL YOU AND IT SHALL TEAR OFF YOUR FLE-\"\n\nI interrupted the demon.\n\n\"Dude. Shut up. How do you even talk?\"\n\nA long black tube slithered out of under the bed, with a grinning mouth on the end. It floated in front of my face.\n\n\"That question was rhetorical, idiot.\"\n\n\"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME AN IDIOT!\" it yelled, spitting black tar all over my face.\n\nI wiped it off with my sleeve.\n\n\"WHAT? THAT TAR SHOULD BE EXCRUCIATINGLY BOILING!\"\n\n\"Y'know, things get colder when they're under a bed.\"\n\nA purple vine wrapped around my right arm, squeezing tightly.\n\n\"How many limbs do you HAVE?\"\n\n\"WHY ARE YOU QUESTIONING LIMB AMOUNTS? I HAVE DESTROYED ENTIRE UNIVERSES!\"\n\nIt grabbed me again, using a tongue coming from a different spot from under the bed.\n\n\"...You have 2 mouths?\"\n\n\"GRAAAAAAAAAAAGH!\"\n\nIt attempted to pull me in. I pulled back, ripping the whole behemoth out from under the bed.\n\nIt had much more limbs than I had anticipated. I counted 72, all of different styles.\n\nBut its main body was a green orb, with only a human eyeball on it.\n\nI looked at the shape it had made, latching around my limbs. I slid the 2 appendages on my legs up to my waist, and the one on my arms down to my chest.\n\n\"I've always wanted one of these.\"\n\n\"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, MORTAL?\"\n\nI grabbed my newborn child from its crib and put him in the newly created baby pouch. It giggled.\n\n\"I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE, FLESH PILE!\"\n\n\"Yeah, right.\"\n\nI then proceeded to work. Surprisingly, everyone else was wearing their own ghost clothing.\n\nI went over to my co-worker, Daniel, and asked him where he got those purple mouth boots.\n\n\"In my closet.\"\n\nThe End", "\"Eat your greens, comb your hair, brush your teeth, sit up straight!\", \nit warned me \"Chop chop, hurry up, you'll be late!\". \nIn childhood it started, right up to this date, \nnot knowing I'd long been resigned to my fate. \n\n\"You must study harder, to pass your exams!\" \nbut I'm not one of those who studies and crams \nSo as the voice jeers, and laments, calls me names \nI turn up the volume of my video games. \n\n\"You must make an effort, to get a good job! \nGet out, meet some friends and earn a few bob!\" \nBut happily, I brush off the crumbs from my belly \nSnuggle down in my bed, and switch on the telly. \n\n\"You're 40 years old now, no family, no wife! - \nI'd be doing much better if I* had a life!\" \nIt's true what it says, but there's no need to moan \nWith my ghost always here, I don't feel so alone. \n\n\"You're a waste of a body! Your life is a mess!\" \nbut I don't think I'll ever succumb to the stress. \nMy life's a disaster, it's true! I confess! \nBut ghosty, please hear me. \nI couldn't care less. \n", "I moved into the place two years ago and murdered my wife several months ago.\n\nThere was really nothing special about the house. It was in your average neighborhood, a mix of middle class families from low end to high end. It had a one car garage for my motorcycle and the van. It had a pretty boring, but well done paint job, and most importantly, I got the place for a great price\n\nBut alas, my wife remained. I actually didn't plan on murder when we first moved in. But when a bitch is a bitch, you have to make a decision. I chose murder.\n\nNow don't go off judging, I'm not some gruesome, sick psychopath. I'm one of the clean smart ones, the ones that didn't actually start off too psycho, but ended up that way. I of course went with poison. I couldn't think of any other way to do it that wouldn't get me caught.\n\nI figured out how long the poison would take to kill her, roughly, and planned her death to be on her family reunion trip in Europe. This was a trip she made every five years and thankfully it lasted an entire month, so I had a high chance of success. The only thing that worried me was that I wouldn't be able to give her the poison while she was away, but it all ended up working out.\n\nNow the part I didn't plan was the haunting. I noticed literally the day she died, that there was something different going on in the house. The rooms had an eerie vibe and sometimes it seemed like things were happening for no reason. For example, the coffee started tasting bad, the pasta wouldn't cook right.\n\nI'm just messing with you, I suck at kitchen stuff, but really, weird things were going on. I didn't really think about it much until a week had passed. The funeral was going to happen and her body was shipped back to me as requested. Her family wanted me to choose where she would be buried and I just chose my home out of respect for the family in Europe. I figured she's dead, it'd be better if they thought I cared.\n\nBut that was a mistake. Things got really bad after that. I felt her presence in the home again. It was the same cold-hearted woman who I had grown to know in marriage. And then the first sighting occurred.\n\nI was in the bathroom doing my business, and I went to wash my hands after. Of course she showed up in the mirror. She would spend two hours staring at it every day.\n\nI saw a figure against the wall behind me, but only when looking into the mirror. I turned the light on and it vanished. I turned it back off and there it was again. I'm going to be honest. I was completely freaked out, but I quickly realized it was her. I could almost see make up running off of ghastly eyes. Then she spoke.\n\n\"Phillip,\" she said in a low whispering voice. \"Your life is mine now.\"\n\n\"Holy crap,\" I responded. \"You can talk.\"\n\nI paused for a moment thinking of what to say next to my ghost wife, who was talking to me through a mirror.\n\n\"I miss you babe,\" I said.\n\nAnd that was my first mistake. She completely flipped out. She screamed and things started flying everywhere in the bathroom.\n\n\"Phillip!\" she screamed in her high pitched ghost voice. She flew through me a few times almost making me puke. And that was the moment when I realized she was still a bitch.\n\nShe had a right to be pissed, I killed her, and apparently she knew it. But I realized that this was the same woman I lived with for the last 6 years. And I decided I wouldn't let her get to me. Sure, she might give me a scare every once in a while, or make me sick. But you can't let a dead bitch ruin your life.\n\nIt's been a number of months now. She honestly might be ruining my life. But I don't give her the satisfaction. She's cost me part of a finger. She snuck up on me when I was trying to cut an onion. I had sharpened the knife and it was going to be my first time actually making some real food. I had just started cutting and she popped out.\n\nI had to go to the hospital, but when I was at the hospital there was a cute nurse. It isn't easy to flirt with someone when you're holding a piece of your finger, but I did a decent job. At least good enough to rub it in my dead wife's translucent face. When I got home I put the nurse's phone number on the fridge and shot her a text (I never took phone calls from home, it wasn't worth the risk of me screaming into the phone during a scare session).\n\nYou might think I'm a jerk. I really am, but I'm doing pretty well, and I figure sooner or later my wife is going to give up. And if she never does, well I figure she'll get the best of me one day. But she'll never have the satisfaction I had. I lived a life, and she didn't, and if I had too, I would take that to my grave.\n\n(P.S. You caught me, I wasn't washing my hands in the bathroom that day. I'm a single guy living alone, sue me)", "She was waiting for me as I looked in the mirror this morning. I glanced up while washing my face and saw something other than my reflection. Chalky, white skin, long and greasy black hair, an open nasal cavity where a nose should be and a mouth filled with too many teeth, going across where her eyes should have been. \n\n\"I will consume the souls of everyone you hold dear!!\" It screeched at me. Somehow pushing it's face even closer to the glass. Up close I could see maggots crawling around the things nose. \n\n\"Do you mind coming back later to do all that?\" I asked. \"Going to need that mirror to shave and the other bathroom is all the way downstairs.\"\n\n\"FEAR MEEEEEE!!!!!\" This time it's voice shook the entire bathroom. Half the items on my sink hit the floor. When I went to turn off the water to the faucet a drip had started that wasn't there before. \n\n\"Hope you can write checks over there. I'm going to need a plumber to get that corrected. Eventually it'll stain the sink basin if it stays like that.\"\n\n\"When I escape this prison, human I will bring terror to your world!!\" \n\n\"So about this whole escaping thing. If I help get you out of there will you go somewhere else and let me use my mirror again?\" \n\nApparently you don't need eyes to look confused, as I stared into the mirror my uninvited guest was silent. Still I could feel it was at a loss. No one ever understands just how little I care. Before it's hideous mouth opened again I interrupted. \n\n\"If you're going to ask for a newborn or something I'm going to really need that shave. Pretty difficult to walk around a preschool looking like a homeless guy. So if you could....\" \n\nWith a growl the face seemed to fade into the distance, until I was left looking back at my own, perpetually bored expression. Before I picked up my razor from off the floor I heard it's voice once more. \n\n\"Three newborns it will take to free me!!\" \n\nWell, at least I'll have the bathroom to myself by the end of the day.\n\n***\n\nMore from me at /r/Lexwriteswords " ]	6
	[WP] She whispered in my ear, "You will never be happier than you are at this moment."	[ "...And she was right.\n\nI didn't know it then, but as I stood with my bag packed in the cold, Memphis rain, watching her taillights fade into the same fog that disappeared when she was in my arms- I had no idea I'd spend a lifetime clamoring to rekindle those few days spent together. \n\nThe sun doesn't know a warmth like that of her breath casting itself down my chest as she rests her head on me, perfectly still, our hearts beating in unison, providing a soundtrack to my dream come true. The ocean doesn't know the depths I'd go to be stuck in that club once more- your hand in mind, oblivious to the outside world, impervious to the second-hand smoke doing its best to cloud our judgment. \n\nI should have known this couldn't last forever. I should have known I was lying to myself when I believed in her. When I believed in us. When the text messages stopped and I continued to pray that every notification was you, if only to check up on me and tell me what's new. I can't let go, no matter how much I know I should. She has permeated every facet of my existence.\n\nA voice still echoes from deep inside the void she left. It tells me that hanging on is hopeless and all the longing that I do, all the drivel that I write and all the futures that we planned won't put our lips back together. It won't bring me back to those moments where we learned about all our idiosyncrasies and insecurities that couldn't be hidden when we were naked.\n\nI don't know what you do these days. I don't know who makes you smile. I hope you find someone who makes you really mean it when you tell them that you love him- unlike when you muttered it to me. I'm still on the path that you have deviated from, but no one deserves more to be loved than you. That man won't ever love you like I did...or do, rather. But then again, you don't deserve that, either.", "She leaned in close and kissed my cheek, \nI turned my head, to try to speak, \nHer finger raised, she gently shushed, \nMy blood was rushing and I blushed. \n &nbsp; \nHer smell, her taste, all quite divine, \nLike silken chocolate; rich fine wine. \nShe laughed, \"That's all that I'll allow. \nYou'll never have more than you have right now.\" \n &nbsp; \nAt 8:02 she turned to leave, \nI lay in bed, aghast, aggrieved, \nWith her left my heart, my life, \nFrom here she was someone else's wife. \n &nbsp; \nI will not see her for another week, \nShe will not contact me to speak, \nShe'll live her life, as wife and mother, \nWhile I wait here; I am the other. " ]	2
	[WP] A very short story that includes the line. "I must get back to the sea"	[ "Stacey was racing over the treetops at breakneck speed. She glanced back, and saw the RH-4 agents on the horizon; soon they'd be right on top of her. She checked the water level of her slider and saw it was almost empty. There wasn't enough water in the air to keep at this speed.\n\n\"I must get back to the sea\", she thought. Stacey began a slow arc around, trying to get the hills between herself and the agents.\n\nFinally, the sea was in sight, but the slider was slowing down. As she left the shadow of the hills, she spotted an agent that had predicted her escape. Stacey took a deep breath, and concentrated on the sea.", "The jeans felt scratchy against my legs. For weeks, I had been able to ignore it, but now, sitting in the confined subway, the heat permeated right down to what felt like my soul. Manhattan will be fine, I had told myself, it’s practically an island! Wrong. I was so wrong. Manhattan had turned out to be dry and unforgiving in its relentless pressure. Every breath I took was poison; I could feel it reaching down to my lungs. I pushed through – my roommates had told me I was complaining too much. How could they know? They never spent much time in the ocean anyway. I missed the salt of it, the shells, the depth. The way it held secrets; nothing is secret in this kind of world anyway. There are people absolutely everywhere, and they care about everything; how you look, how you look at them. \n\nThis is what people do though, right? Isn’t a part of your youth supposed to be a sacrificial time for things like comfort? You get through it for the stories, that one time you probably had to be there. \n\nI had decided to move to New York for my singing. I had been promised that I would be a big fish in a small pond, that my talent was really above all, that I wouldn’t struggle as much as the other artists. Instead, I found myself a very small fish, and there was no pond. Barely any water to breathe, and though it surrounded the city on three sides, I could never feel it. This must be how fish at the market feel – dry gulps of life that promise but really hold nothing at all. My roommates had once made the very bad choice of taking me to a fish market in Chinatown. I had stared at the fishes, eyes open, laying on the cold ice, and screamed. They gut them almost like a show.\n\nThe train emerged over Brooklyn, and I could smell it; the water. I could almost feel it caressing my legs, and the mental reprieve from the heat and these godawful jeans was almost enough to make me tear them off and jump over the bridge. If only. \n\nI must get back to the sea, I thought, putting it on a to-do list in the back of my mind, right next to laundry, and rent, and a few auditions that I have next week. \n\nThe train jostled and I felt my legs bristle from the rubbing of the tight jeans. I had never really gotten used to wearing pants. \n", "One unfortunate December afternoon, Seattle was facing the most ferocious tropical storm in history. Caused abruptly by an unknown anomaly in the northern pacific, the public wasn't notified of this situation until it was too late to seek refuge outside the city and seeking shelter immediately was the only reasonable method of survival.\n\nBy pure coincidence, the annual 2029 Genius Convention (an international convention uniting over 75% of the world's genii with the goal of sharing knowledge and presenting ideas to world-renown intelligentsia) was taking place in Seattle during this same afternoon, and they weren't ready for it. As emergency patrols were sweeping the city trying their best to evacuate the outdoors and get everyone into shelter, the storm suddenly grows significantly more powerful with winds at speeds so fast that the sound they make rushing past you would drown out the deadly hail shattering windshields just 20 feet away. The head of the team, Leonard Penn, was ready to sacrifice his life to ensure the safety of his fellow citizens. The destination was the Genius Convention. By any means necessary, the survival of those brilliant men and women were of the highest priority.\n\nWithout a warning, a sharp piece of debris comes hurling through Penn's windshield piercing him directly through his chest pinning him to his seat. Out of control, his vehicle swerves to the right and slams into the corner of a brick building. Heart-melted and stunned solid was his partner in the vehicle behind him, Robert Masc. Masc pulled over and rushed to Penn's vehicle as fast as possible being pushed to the ground several times. When he finally made it to his partner's vehicle, he pulled the door open and it propelled outward flying off the hinges and into the air.\n\nIn a tear-filled raspy voice and eyes squinting, Robert yells, \"No Leo! Please no! I need you right now! Anything but this...\"\n\nHis head just barely tilting toward Robert, Leo breathes his dying words, \"At any cost, the genii must get back to the Seattle Central Shelter.\"", "Marooned on a coconut awash white sands, each foamy wave pushing me deeper. I know I cannot breathe for long here as I grip the hairy surface of this fruit, I will my arms to inch forward as the noonday sun beats down on my skin. \"I can do this,\" I tell my myself, my very survival depends on it. I must get back to the sea, just one tentacle in front of the other.", "\"I can't seem to remember much. All my memories: gone. I know that I had them. I can still remember the way they made me feel; I just can't recall the memories themselves. I have been here much too long. Many thousands of years spent toiling about. A new cave here, a new mountain there, it's all the same. I cannot stand this place. Despair has overcome me. I haven't seen another member of my specie since it happened. I am separated by this vast body of water. I know what I must do, but I have neither the mind nor the body for it. But I must. I must get back to the sea...\"", "She walked silently through the streets, memories pulsing through her head. She knew exactly where she was going, but her heart was lost. As she carelessly wandered through the streets, she searched for someone who wasn't there. A face long gone, and the love that went with it. She didn't notice the man until he ran into her. \n\n\"Jesus christ lady. Pay attention . . . hey are you okay? You're bleeding. I think you need to go to the hospital.\" He helped her up, and reached for his phone. \n\nThe woman placed her hand on his to stop him, and looked him in the eyes, \"I can't,\" she whispered, \"I must got back to the sea.\" \n\nThe sea. She thought, will be the only thing that will comfort me. And she moved on, aimlessly walking through the street.", "\"I MUST GET BACK TO THE SEA! I MUST GET BACK THE SEA!\". Mr. Parson had been screaming it all day. He was always screaming something and frankly, the orderly just wasn't in the mood today. \n\n\"Nurse can you get Mr. Parson his medication please.\" \n\n\"NO NO NOOOOOOOO!\" Mr. Parson protested.The nurse was no stranger to Mr. Parson's protests. She went to fetch the pills and the force feeding tube. \n\nLater that night, Mr. Parson's mother would be found hanging from a rope in a motel bedroom, feet dangling above an overturned stool. The note on the bedside table read \"My son, 30 years ago during a blizzard, I gave birth to you in this damned room because the roads were closed. you had the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck, and you almost died. I'll see you in heaven sweet darling, where God will fix your brain. May the sea motel, burn in hell.\"", "pant pant pant\nHis heavy breathing was the only thing louder than his heartbeat as he strained to hear them. \nThis was a mistake. He thought to himself as he watched Wesley bleeding out across from him. Wesley looked up at him pleadingly, the meaning clear: \"Have mercy\". With a quick jab he buried the knife in Wesley's skull. \n\nThey couldn't be far, he could could still hear them finishing of his other erstwhile companions nearby. \"I must get back to the sea\". He gathered his gear and the loot and considered his options. They couldn't be more than a block from the shore. He crept to the door, and dared to crack it open. \n\nYep there they were, chowing down on what was left of Blake. No use sneaking now, he bolted out at a full run. The horde saw him of course. The alarm call was immediate. He didn't dare look over his shoulder, the sounds alone told him there were hundreds. \"I must get back to the sea\" he repeated to himself. \n\nHis straight path downhill was interrupted by a pack of them emerging from a house ahead. \"DAMNIT, nononnononono\" he spilt left into an open alley to the next street. This one was much more cluttered, but he dared not slow down. \nHe quickly mounted a car roof and started skipping along the line of wrecks packing the road. \n\nHalf a block left and his left boot smashed through a burned out sedan's top. He started to dislodge it when he felt something inside the car grab the sole of it. CRAP! He sliced the laces and abandoned it. The horde had closed quickly during the distraction. They were almost on him when he started moving again. \n\nHe rounded the last corner and finally saw it: the boat. \"START THAT FUCKING ENGINE!!!!\" He screamed to Madeline behind the wheel. He left foot was leaving bloody footprints from the rough ground. He could hear its wet slapping on the dock. \"Where is everybody?\" Maddy called as the motor roared to life. \"DEAD!\"\n\nShe cast off the lines and started to pull away. He had one chance, and jumped...\nTHUD. He crashed to the deck, precious canned food spilling out of his rucksack. He'd made it. Maddy was silent as she steered them away from the former fishing hamlet. He could only stare back at the zombies as they tried to wade into the water after them. \n\nThey were safe again. For now. ", "A young boy walked the coast towards a well-worn patch of boulders with a stick in his hand, drawing lines in the sand. The stick clattered against the rocks as he climbed up. From his perch, he waved at the ships as they floated by in hopes that they would blow their horns. Most of all, he enjoyed seeing the bounty of the sea washing up on the shores. The waves were strong today. Alluvions broke just below his feet and he saw something stir beneath the retreating waves.\n\n“H-hello?” he said as he instinctively retreated until the cliff-face was at his back. “Are you okay and who are you?”\n\nIt didn't respond. He thought it was human until he saw the tail that sprouted from the torso of the young girl. This frightened and excited him equally as he barraged her with questions and compliments and the remarks of a young boy that has just met his first mermaid. As the ocean dweller gained her bearings, she looked towards the source of the sound. A look of fear or surprise came across her face as she gasped. Her face tinted pink as she held a damp hand to her lips.\n\n“I'm sorry,” she said, turning away. “I must get back to the sea.”\n\nBefore the boy could say a word more, she slipped into the deep blue and disappeared.\n\n-310", "John stood in disbelief. A mermaid, if you could call it that, stood before him. It looked much like a human woman, except it's head was that of a fish and it had fins for arms. As John leaned in for the first kiss, the mermaid backed away. \"I'm sorry,\" she said in a surprisingly sexy voice, \"I must get back to the sea.\" With that, she dove off the side of the boat into the murky depths below.\n\n\"Great,\" Thought John. \"Literally not good enough for a fish.\"", "Indian Territory never seemed to end. The sheriff brushed the dust out of his \nmustache as he surveyed the broken land before him. He was fast \ngetting tired of this search. He'd face any outlaw on familiar city streets, but in the \nbackcountry, he felt like he was the one being hunted. He could see it on his \ntombstone now: Killed in the line of duty. Died, rather. If \nthey ever figured out what happened to him out here, shot down or dead from the \nsearing heat. He shook his head and rode on.", "My lips are split, the wind sandpaper to my face. I look into the harsh gusts, hoping they're leading me true. Every second in the open I feel my skin tightening, the sand in my hourglass slipping away. \n\nA smattering of rain gives me respite. Dried and cracking flesh swelling with the brief joy of moisture. \n\n\"I must get back to the sea\"\n\nI stumble into the wind, the one direction I have, as lost on land as one of you in the deeps. ", "A drop falls and kisses me warm, oh she.\n\n\"I must get back to the sea, to the place where everyone is me,\" she whispers before she hits sands and gets washed asea.\n\nSwaying coconut tree and wave in swashes of three.\n\n\"Wait for me,\" I breathe as I see the sea.", "Kyle spotted me from across the office. Great. As he penguined up to me, a big grin spread across his too large lips, I heaved a sigh the size of the room. I got up to intercept him, be all proactive and shit. \n\nHe was about to explode with conversation when I held up my hand in the universal motion for stop. \n\n\"Hey, love to chat but I must get back to the sea salt and vinegar chips.\" I pointed behind me where my half-eaten lunch lay. \n\n\"Great talk Kyle, bye.\" \n\nI turned and sat back down to a satisfying curly-cue crunch. Kyle was never the same. " ]	14
	[WP] "Of all the things I've done in my life, I'm getting sent to hell for THAT?"	[ "Dr Mehmed raged aloud, mustache tips gesticulating wildly as his rapidly reddening face spluttered in outrage.\n\n\"Headmaster, I must protest this most irredeemable and torturous appointment. This... social gathering... is completely unacceptable for an elderly Head of Department such as myself. Perhaps Mr Astaire from Expressive Arts should be requisitioned for such a purpose, but certainly not myself.\"\n\nThe headmaster gazed at the infuriated man before him in abject shock. Dr Mehmed had never before addressed him like this, nor his predecessors, even when he had been asked to teach during wartime, with bombs falling about the school buildings.\n\n\"My dear Dr Mehmed,\" he began, cautiously, \"I have never seen you object in such an insistent manner before. Surely you would not treat your colleague with such disrespect? And besides, you are the most qualified for this duty, even more so than our drama teachers. Your advanced certificate, as I might recall?\"\n\nDr Mehmed gripped the desk in from of him, knuckles transforming into a deathly pale white. \"Of all the things i've done in my life, i'm getting sent to hell for THAT? It was a miserable three years of research, done only so I could be better qualified to attend my insufferable uncle's wedding!\"\n\nThe headmaster smoothened his suit lapels, pausing before speech. \"A doctorate in creative arts just so you could dance at a wedding? My my Mehmed, I never knew that side of you. Anyway, you are doing this duty, no matter your squabbling. The students love you, you'll get on great. And you'll have a chance to wear your tuxedo again.\"\n\nWretched misery grew within Dr Mehmed heart. Tears began to well threateningly in his eyes, and his mustache drooped to the point of joining his long beard. \"But sir!\" he wailed, frantically. \"It...it... it's prom sir! How could you‽\" \n ", "Adam slams his fist against his chest with a sort of boyish determination and fire. His eyes are livid with the sort of mature, masculine honesty that doesn’t really exist.\n\n“I did not kill all those people!” Adam shouts with a passionate, heartfelt rage, gazing at Satan on his black throne, head tilted back because Satan sits on a mountain of burnt bones. “I did not! I did not! I did not!”\n\n“Oh, I’m not saying you did,” Satan assures, crossing his legs. His charcoal black nails click together in a quick, upbeat tempo. “I am not saying that at all.”\n\n“I am not accusing you of accusing me,” Adam says. “After all, you know I did not! You are the devil. You know these things. Surely, you know that I did not kill all those people.”\n\n“Ha ha,” says the devil.\n\n“Ha ha,” says Adam. “Well, if that is that, I ask you to not let me near the flames of Hell. It is, after all, not my punishment to take.”\n\n“Of course,” Satan says. “Well, I would know if you did, for I am the devil, like you said. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!” Adam says.\n\n“I know you killed all those people,” Satan says, smiling.\n\n“Ha ha!” Adam says, voice strained now. “That is a funny joke.”\n\n“It is not a joke,” Satan tells him.\n\n“Well, then, I ask you, are soldiers in Hell? What of patriotism? What of the willing heart?” Adam’s voice is loud and raw again with the kind of sentiment that belongs to superheroes during the climax of a battle scene as they face their villain who has bombed an entire city and killed all of its civilians from the old grandmother to the cute pomeranian. “You cannot let me burn in Hell for killing people!”\n\n“You bombed an entire city,” Satan reminds him gently.\n\n“AS DID THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!” Adam cries in an orgy of confident authority and a burning fury of one searching for a truth, slamming a clenched fist into his open palm with the force of a judge slamming down his hammer.\n\n“Well,” Satan says, “it makes no difference to me if someone kills other people. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!” Adam says in agreement.\n\n“Still, you must burn,” Satan continues. “You have committed sins.”\n\n“I have committed no sins,” Adam says.\n\n“Ha ha!” says Satan.\n\n“I am not joking,” says Adam in the way of solemn men, like the ones in football or baseball movies who take sports teams to nationals through the power of friendship, the immense loyalty that sticks like cancer cells, and illegal steroids swallowed with a swig from sponsored Gatorade bottles. “Here is a joke, however. The chicken crossed the road, but was shot the moment he got to the other side. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!”\n\n“I have only killed a city’s worth of people, much less than the amount that died during God’s flood! I have never slept with a man! I drank no beer or vodka, only red wine, and I never did on Sunday! In fact, every Sunday, I have gone to church.” Adam rattles off his virtues with vigor until his chest is heaving.\n\n“I see.”\n\n“You are such a powerful person,” Adam adds in between pants as he struggles to regain his breath with the doggedness of a stubborn warrior. “I would truly like to lay with you in bed, perhaps, if I did not burn. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!” Satan says. He licks his lips with a languorous and very pink tongue and sighs. “Your offer was funny. In fact, you are a very humorous person, but I am sorry. You must burn. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha! Was that a joke?”\n\n“Of course not,” Satan says. “Ha ha!”\n\nAdam’s posture, previously gracefully held in flawless elegance, shifts so his chest sticks out and his shoulders are square with great pride. His glistening, emotional eyes contain wildfires.\n\n“THEN, TELL ME! WHY WILL I BURN IN HELL?”\n\n“Oh,” Satan says, “because you bombed an entire city, of course!”\n\nAdam quakes with uncontrollable wrath as though he has been confronted with the greatest injustice he has ever heard, as if his morals have been broken right in front of him with little care. “As did the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!”\n\n“That is true,” Satan says.\n\n“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” Adam states.\n\n“Ha ha!” says Satan.\n\n“Ha ha!” says Adam.\n\nSatan’s long, beautiful fingers come together to snap with a crisp, efficient slide of his fingertips. With the action, Adam catches fire. He begins to scream.\n\n“Ha ha!” laughs Satan, and watches him burn. ", "Norman Russell leaned against the wall, lifting a cigarette to his mouth. He spoke between puffs of smoke.\n\n“So…I’m…in hell,” he said. “I figured…I’d… be here.”\n\nHe glared at the crimson man who stood before him. The man was of high stature, had slick black hair, and an equally dark goatee, which he rubbed at now. A wicked grin was stamped on the man’s face.\n\n“That is a great observation,” said the man. “My name is Satan, if that wasn’t clear enough.”\n\n“I’m…Norman.”\n\n“I realized.” Satan laughed dryly. Then, without warning, he shot forward and grabbed Norman’s cigarette. He tossed it in a fiery pit beside Norman. “No smoking in hell,” chimed Satan.\n\n“Right. That’s why I’m here isn’t it?”\n\n“Nope,” said Satan. “Guess again!”\n\nNorman let out a heavy breath. He lifted his hand to his temple and massaged it gently. “Look, I didn’t mean to kill that man. He was with my wife, and I was…”\n\n“It’s not about that either.”\n\nNorman shook his head. “What then? Bullying that kid in high school? Selling rocks? Gambling?”\n\n“Wrong.” Satan sighed. “Listen. Do you remember that English test in high school? About the bible?”\n\nNorman shrugged. “Think so.”\n\n“You misspelled God’s name. Norman, the word is three letters! Three! How do you spell that wrong?”\n\n“I don’t know. Why?”\n\n“Well,” said Satan. “God is tolerant of everything. He knows how hard I work, and so now he lets about everyone in heaven. But now? Now I’m stuck with you, because you couldn’t spell God!” Satan let out a shaky breath. Then, after a moment, he glanced up at Norman. Norman was stunned.\n\n“Of all the things I’ve done in my life, I’m getting sent to hell for THAT?!”\n\n“Yes. Have fun,” said Satan. He snapped his fingers and a large blackboard fell next to Norman. Satan extended his palm, in which lay a long, white piece of chalk. Norman knew what he had to do. He sighed, walked up to the board, and began writing the word “God,” over and over again. \n\nHe would do this for all of eternity. \n_____________________________________________________________________________\n\nThank you for reading! Please, if you have any feedback or advice, let me know!\n", "\"H-helloo..?\"\n\nMy voice echoed down the dark and empty passage. I could hear the fear and insecurities grow louder for each echo that passed.\nIt was cold. It was dark. \"Am i all alone?\" I thought to myself. All i could feel was the unsettling cold coming from the darkness of that tunnel, almost as if winds were blowing.\nI didn't dare, no, I physically couldn't move my legs. I was paralyzed with fear, even breathing felt impossible. How did i get here?\n\nThen it came back to me, with a blinding flash i was back on that crossing in broad daylight, making my way over to that little sandwich shop everyone at the office was talking about. The wind was blowing strong and I could even smell the teryaki chicken and bacon cooking. But then the ticking of the crossing light stopped, and the light turned red right as i'd made it about halfway across. I turned my head to the left, bright lights flashing, and as my ears exploded in pain from the loud noises I suddenly felt a numbing... whack. As if the hit should've knocked me miles and miles away, or straight down into the ground, yet i was still standing. And when i opened my eyes i was once again standing in that cold, pitch-black passage.\n\nAnother flash of light, and a red, high-burning fire flared up right before my eyes. The crackle of the flame brought me back to campfires for some reason. But as the flame vanished I realized what had taken place in front of me. Or 'who'.\n\nHe was tall and wide, with dark circles under his bright red eyes and his hair was a dark shade of grey. The intimidating frame was lit up by paths of fire softly burning behind him.\nSatan.\n\n\"Jonathan Crowley\" he said, his voice deep and effortlessly loud. \"You have lived a life in sin, and will now pay the price. Your eternal punishm...\"\n\n\"-Whoa, whoa, whoa!\" I abruptly shouted. Was I really doing this? Was i really interrupting Satan as he was damning me for eternity? I guess I was.\n\n\"I'm dead? And going to hell?! For what?\"\n\nHis eyes caught me, almost like they gripped me from my very soul. I was once more unable to move.\n\n\"For your sins, you shall be punished.\" He said.\n\nI felt an ice cold stream spread through my body, almost like a fear i've never felt before.\n\nMeh, fuck it. I was dead already. \"But why?\" I pushed on. \"I've lied, okay? more than once, but i hardly feel like eternal damnation is fair punishment! I've cheated. Tests, partners, my career... I've done a lot of scummy things to get ahead, I know. But I regret it. The time i hit that dog on the road was a pure accident! I would've turned back, but it was dead already! And all dogs go to heaven, right?\" I felt cold sweat run down my back. I was going to vomit.\n\nSatan walked up to me, standing inches away and bent down to face me at eye level. He smelled of soot and ashes. His eyes chased a panic into me i'd never known before. \"You are a scum indeed. But the one thing i can't forgive, why you shall be damned for all eternity...\"\n\nIce-cold air filled my lungs. It made its way through my skin, chasing every last ounce of warmth out of me. A screech, almost like metal nails on a chalkboard but amplified, started ecoing through my brain, the background noise of staring into the eyes of Satan.\n\nThe screech grew louder, i could feel the ice reach my fingertips, my toes, my very soul. My heartbeat got faster, but i felt my blood slow down, like the pressure couldn't pump the blood anymore...\n\n\"I send you to hell, to forever be in suffering and agony you've never before known, for you never paid your WinRAR. The simplest thing you could've done would have saved your soul. Yet, you didn't. Because you thought they just did a miss. That you could get away with it.\"\n\nThe screeching left my ears ringing. I felt the shockwaves of my very core trying to pump around the syrup that had become in my veins. It got harder to breathe.\n\n\"You chose to live a life of deceit instead of virtue, and in the eyes of the divine you have failed. And for that, you have a place in hell.\"\n\nThe ice stung, the screech had my ears scream for mercy, and i drew the last breaths i had the strength to draw.\n\nThen all of a sudden, it all let go. It all went dark. And all that was left, was nothing. For all eternity. All because i hadn't paid for my WinRAR." ]	4
	[WP]An unplanned extinction even destroys all human life on Earth. But there are still those that reside in the ISS and can't do anything to get out.	[ "I woke up in the fetal position, made awkward by the tethers securing me to my bed. There were dry tears on my face and pillow, and I had messed up my coverings and nearly undone my tethering in my sleep.\n\nI slowly floated to the Destiny, the US lab onboard the ISS, and our unofficial base of operations. The others, Volkov, Kornienko (Mik), Lindgren (Lin), Kononenko (Kon), and Yui, were already up. They were all moving around in a semi comatose state, still too shocked to actually confront the reality of what we had all witnessed the day before. \n\nI still couldn't get the image of the huge asteroid colliding with the Earth out of my head, so I knew what they were going through. \n\nWe hadn't seen it coming. It had been expected to barely miss the Earth and head on towards the sun, but the idiot who had done the trajectory calculations had failed to account for the moon's slight gravitational pull, and the hundreds of idiots who had checked his math hadn't corrected his mistake, at least, not until it was too late for nukes to solve the issue.\n\n\"Ok crew,\" my voice croaked out, \"As far as we know, we are the only humans left in the universe. That puts a lot of weight on our shoulders. Now, the way I see it, we have two options. \n\n\"Either A, we give up, realizing that humanity is now essentially extinct. After all, we're six men in space, we have limited supplies, and even the eggs that were deep underground in storage back on Earth are probably destroyed, so even if we do manage to get back to the ground and find it not completely devoid of life, we're probably fucked. \n\n\"Or B, we attempt, against all odds, to keep the human race alive. Unity is more important than anything, so I think we should put it to a vote. If at least 3 of you want to live for as long as you can, and try to keep the human race alive against almost insurmountable odds, than we'll go for it. However, if at least 3 of you would rather follow the rest of humanity's footsteps, that's understandable too. I, as the commander, will not be voting on this issue.\"\n\nThe first three votes were expected. Yui, ever the optomist, was an immediate yea, whereas Mik, who had loved his family more than anyone else I had ever known, croaked out a tearful \"nay\" before leaving, presumably to go back to his quarters. Lin followed Yui with another \"yea\", as he always did, though there was an uncharecteristic note of doubt in his voice.\n\nHowever, I had no idea which way Mik or Volkov would go. They both looked pensive, so I told them that they had the rest of the day to decide. \n\n----------------------------\n\nMik came first. He gave me a look of lost hope, said \"nay\", and continued on towards the Leonardo.\n\nThat put the vote at 2 to 2.\n\n----------------\n\nI, as the commander, had decided that my vote shouldn't matter. I would lead the men in whatever direction they wanted to follow. However, I know wish I could have taken that back. The thing is, the longer this day has gone on, and the longer I've waited for Volkov to make up his damn mind, the more I've wanted to live.\n\n-------------------\n\nHe woke me from my second night of an unrestful slumber. I saw fear, despair, and determination on his face, as he whispered out the word \"yea\".\n\nI don't know how, but I'm, no, We're, going to live.\n", "The first time I saw earth from space, it was so breath taking. That feeling of just pure bliss how that blue marble was what we called home. But all good things must end. That blue beauty below started to glow so bright when we got the message, \"Armageddon is at hand, nukes are in flight.\" One after another, the bright flashes consumed the earth until the sapphire homeland turned to grey. Our comrade ensured us that Russia would still survive whatever the U.S. would throw their way.... Too bad they wouldn't fair well to the unexpected visitors from across the stars.", "I watched from the window, I saw as the object came near to Earth, yet it stopped. It stayed there, motionless and stationary.\n\nDespite it being in space, I could still hear the noise that came from it, I still felt the rumble.\n\n\n\"SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT\".\n\nThe Earth disappeared.", "We watched from the windows, the rockets, visible from the ISS launched and landed. Hundreds of them from everywhere. We watched the sky grow dark, communication was lost in a matter of minutes. We were in the dark. We had enough food to last three weeks, a month if we pushed it but my family was down there. The last I seen of them my wife was four days ago. Andrea hugged me, wishing me a safe journey and a quick return. She kissed me in the cheek, promising me her homemade chicken strips, she knew they were my favourite crunchy and sweet. My daugher was old enough to know I was leaving but didn't know how long. She probably thought it was just another day of work. I never left her longer than that, she was my everything I loved her so much. I hugged her tight and promised i'd be home soon. I miss her already. I'll never have her meal, never hold her and my daughter again. I knew, we knew. We seen our future, our everything extinguished in an hour. It took humanity an hour to destroy everything it worked so hard to create. I wonder what's the cost of gas now?\n\nIts been two weeks and of the twelve of us that were left of us now only five remain. Amanda went to bed and just never woke up, she was just engaged. Yuri went for a space walk, the first one to volunteer since the world ended. We thought he was so brave for it, all the satellites had gone offline and were torn into pieces. chunks of metal flying at a speed high enough to put a hole in you. He took of his helmet the moment the doors closed. The others locked themselves in their rooms, blocked the filtration and died of carbon dioxide. \nThe hatch opened quietly, I didn't bother connecting myself to anything, it would matter anyways. Once out I closed it and took a final glance at home. The smoke and radiation blocked out the sun. What was once blue and green was grey and black. I've been alive for far to long, I've decided its time to meet my family again, where ever they've gone, away from this hell all we've known has become. I'll see you again Andrea, we'll be a family again I promise. I took off my helmet." ]	4
	[WP] What killed the dinosaurs had nothing to do with the meteorite hitting Earth, but what came out of it...	[ "200 million years ago the Son of the Morning waged a war on the Abyss. With a flaming greatsword bigger than most buildings, Lucifer cut away reality and ushered thousands upon thousands of angels through the rip and into a war. Hundreds died simply by entering the reality that was the Abyss. It was a forsaken place, existing even before God brought light to the universe. Filled with some beings large enough to blot out our sun and others somewhat similar in size and shape to a humanoid creation. For years the war raged on and on, with Lucifer always at the front line traveling deeper and deeper into the Abyss. Until finally heaven's army came upon a planet the creatures of the Abyss were spawned from. The Morningstar took it upon himself to see this planet destroyed. Some say the miasma from it's final implosion was what led to the Fall of the mightiest angel. As their campaign came to a close they hunted through the darkness for any remaining piece of the planet. Finally, heaven's army returned to the Golden Gates victorious. Never having known that a single projectile had escaped their notice. For millions of years that meteorite from the Abyss tumbled through space before finally landing on a small, blue planet in the Milky Way galaxy. ", "Excerpts from \"How We Learned to Love the Meteor, by Arthur Bugler, published in Really Popular Science , August 2028.\n\nMan, I wish I didn't have to say this... \"Science went too far\". It sounds terrible, doesn't it? Between the religious nutjobs trying to stifle scientific progress under the guise of science \"going too far\" or most science-fiction disaster movies being based on that theme, I really thought I'd never have to say or write these words and mean them. And still...\n\nI'm a paleontologist. I've been in the field more than most paleontologists over my career, and I was one of the lucky few to discover a whole new species - Archonychus buglerii, a high-altitude mountain theropod - but that's only part of my work. What I'm most proud of is that I've been involved in a number of conferences, study groups and, well, \"task forces\" was the term. These were formed of a group of prehistoric specialists - paleologists, paleobiologists, paleoclimatologists and all the other paleosomethingists you can think of - to crack open a problem that stymied one of the disciplines. Try to see an issue from another angle, if you will. \"Task Force\" is a bit pompous, but we really only chose that word in good fun, we never saw ourselves a generals or conquerors - just glasses-and-pocket-protectors nerds having a never-ending flamewar over email.\n\nOf course, by now you all know what Task Force Katie was supposed to hammer away at. The name was a giveaway anyway - we wanted to look over the K-T extinction theory again. The theory was almost complete, but there are of course competing theories and hypotheses, as is always the case in academia. What we wanted to do was iron out the details, dig into the minutiae we didn't know yet, and solidify the \"meteor impact\" theory as the one that really happened. We had the resources, but as we dug into the data, more and more problems came up. As we churned through more facts at the same time than any other team had even done, we kept finding more and more holes in the theory. Still, we couldn't bring ourselve to say it outright, always choosing to weasel out of it with words like \"Inconsistencies\" and \"adjusting the theory\", until one of our climate experts spelled it out in an email:\n\n\"The K-T theory of a meteor crashing down and causing catastrophic climate change just doesn't work, guys. Something else has to factor in\", he said. He was right, the K-T event as we knew it then didn't work out anymore. So we turned to field work. The Chixculub crater was still the best bet for the impact location, so we sent a team there. Without approval from our universities, our sponsors or the Mexican authorities. I am fully aware of the violation of international sovereignty that represents, and I will be present to explain myself if and when the Mexican courts decide to indict me. Being free of all oversight, we had the maneuvering room to look at stuff we'd never had our hands on before, and our paleogeologists found new information on the probable composition of the meteor. As before, it was full of stuff that didn't occur naturally on Earth in large quantities, but instead of iridium, it was... Well, we didn't know what the heck it was, actually. As far as we knew, it could well be a new element. We called it \"Cretacium\" temporarily and set about finding more of it.\n\nBy that time, we'd all become a little obsessed with finding out the truth. So when we found out that a lot of old villages, including some Mayan groups, had artifacts that seemed to be made of pure cretacium, we tried to buy it off them. When they refused, we collected our grant money and called Executive Measures.\n\nThat's another thing I'll have to pay for when the courts summon me. I make no excuses for it, what that PMC had to do to get the artefacts... I prefer not to know too much about it. Doesn't mean I don't share a part of responsibility.\n\nStill, we got the truth out of it. Cretacium isn't just something that doesn't occur naturally on Earth; it doesn't occur naturally at all. It's an artificial compound, requiring amounts of energy and pressure to manufacture that all or Earth's furnaces and power stations together still wouldn't be able to generate. The civilization - because we can't call it otherwise - that made the \"meteor\" must have reached a level of technological progress that only belongs to sci-fi.\n\nAt that point, Task Force Katie had to come out to the public with its findings. It wasn't exactly easy at first, but people ended up convinced by the artefacts and the cretacium. We got more money and physicists, particle accelerators to test the compound. And that's when we got the big find.\n\nCretacium generates ridiculous amounts of radiation when under certain conditions. That's literally how the physics expert said it, \"ridiculous amounts\", nothing else. But K-T radiation is unique. It induces acute, immediate and lethal radiation sickness in animals above a certain weight, leaves others unscathed, and does not stick to the environment for more than three millenia - exceedingly short for radiation. The amounts of K-T radiation released by the artefacts we got were huge, so by extrapolating the meteor's weight, we realised the K-T radiation could affect the whole world of the Mesozoic. And the conditions required for the meteor to generate radiation were roughly similar to those of atmospheric re-entry.\n\nAt first we thought we'd got the idea. The meteor was a weapon of mass destruction, too small to devastate the environment but releasing a very specialised wave to kill off large animals the world over... To pave the way for colonization, perhaps? That would have made sense, although the distinct absence of colonization was a hole in that theory. Until we hit the second big find...\n\nCretacium could encode biological information in a mineral medium. More specifically, genetic information. The meteor was a genetic library of sorts, carrying a load of DNA to infect and modify nearby compatible lifeforms and mutate them over time into whatever the target was.\n\nWell, our geneticists puzzled over that one, until they realised what the target actually was...\n\nUs. The meteor held the entire human genome. The K-T extinction had released parasitic capsules of human DNA into the atmosphere, where it latched on to some of the surviving mammals in what would become Africa and mutated them over millions of years into early primates, then early hominids, then into us.\n\nYou know what the release of that knowledge did to human society. Knowing humanity as a whole was of alien origin destabilized most religions. Some of them saw it as proof of a Creator, and I can't see why I'd disagree - although I'm not as certain as they are as to the nature of that Creator. Others turned to a sort of communal self-hatred, seeing humanity as one global virus, infecting an Earth we were never native to. I never thought I'd see a hippy apologizing to a rock on behalf of all of \"parasitic Humanity\" in my lifetime. The number of suicide cults that appeared in some of the more spiritual cultures... That was creepy.\n\nWhat I am somewhat proud of though, is seeing Humanity turn to the stars. The space programs were never really of interest to me - I'm more of a down-in-the-earth person, or paleontology wouldn't have appealed to me - but now, everybody's watching as every single nation and company is building its space probe. We're going to be on the Moon soon, on Mars not long after, and then what? Titan, Europa, Venus?\n\nSome of us chose to see humanity as a parasite on an innocent Earth. I prefer the idea that we were babies, left on a safe planet to grow and prosper away from harm. Now we've grown up, and we're coming home.\n\nWe're coming home.", "STARLOG -=GALACTIC YEAR 13x^9=-\n\nIncoming transmission\n\n.\n..\n...\n\nTransmission Verified Sector [134.2]\n\nHello? Hello? Command station?This is High General Farc of Legion Gamma, Reporting from Planet 00014523. The transport ship was hit by an unscheduled solar disturbance on our way to frontlines. We have lost approximately 1300 infantry unites in the crash and twice that to the primitive natives of this miserable hunk of rock. The ecosystem is degrading our filters at an accelerated rate, and without proper supplies we will run out of necessary supplies within the week. With the Commanders permission I would like to put the few engineers we have left on repairing the Thermonuclear Tesla. I know it seems risky, being that we lack many of the necessary parts for monitoring the system but with a little scrugar grease and ingenuity we might be able to pull it off.\n\nGeneral Farc Signing off\n\nEND OF TRANSMISSION\n\n\nNote of station alpha, a total of 134 galactic time frames passed from the signals broadcast before a large disturbance was tracked to General Farcs location of transmission. A team of 13 scout ships have been dispaced\n\n", "The lumbering masses of duck billed or three horned beasts slightly rose their heads when they sensed the weird hissing sound coming from the skies.\n\nNone of those could understand, of course. They just glimpsed this weird gigantic rock spotted with an acne of craters, metallic and sad looking, eons from the damp and lush vegetation that surrounded it. It wasn't falling on earth, but slowly landing on its surface. When it peacefully touched the volcanic ashes and thorny, unwelcoming vegetation that matted it, part of the structure fell, letting two blobby, purple, gigantic floating figures slither out of it and explore its earth as two pantagruelic, marvelous zeppelins.\n\n\"Wow, it refilled well from last time we checked, ain't true Ma ? Dinner will be plentiful I see !\"\n\n\"You should be careful with how much you take, Pa. Look at you, you're just too fat.\" said Ma while poking the five miles wide creature with three thousand of its indexes. \"Because of your gluttony we had to wait two hundred millions years more to have a decent biomass for harvest.\"\n\n\"But Maaa, those trilobites were so tasty ! And those Conodont filled blastoid escalopes you prepare so well !\"\n\n\"Enough is enough, Pa ! You should lose weigh, end of the story. For now you will be restricted to a strict diet of two thousand tons of Jellyfishes and pelagic tunicates. At least those cholesterol-less creatures didn't went extinct last time you ransacked the earth !\"\n\nMa carefully probed the atmosphere and litosphere with her odd instruments and five thousand arms. Pouting, Pa waited to wander somewhere where Ma wouldn't look at. \"This continent seems fine enough\" he thought. \"Perhaps there are a gigaton or two of suitable biomass to get my teeth into\"…\n\nHe looked down. \"heh\" he asked himself \"why not trying this weird three horned fat guy with a beak ? He seems fine enough\" he lifted a flock and put it in his twenty miles wide mouth. \"mmmh, well this is some damn fine tetrapod. And what about those funny little beaked ones ?\"\n\n…\n\n\"Pa !\"\n\n\"what Maaa ?\"\n\nWhat did you do again ? Look at that ! The earth is a mess now ! You wiped out all the non avian archosaurs ! And... and where are the damn ammonites ?? You even gulped out the pterosaurs ! Those aren't even fleshy !\" she protested while pinching the now swollen, rubbery plasmic ectoderm of his husband of 40 billions years. \n\n\"But maa, I was hungry !\"\n\n\"You couldn't even wait for dinner ! What a dork you are !\"\n\nShe inspected the horizon, sighting a stratospheric anticyclone or two, searching for a glimpse of life that could regrow from the now barren land.\n\n\"I hope there will be some creature small enough to crawl underground to evolve into something bigger in a few millions. Now hurry and pray that there'll be something growing there next time we wake up !\"\n\nThey hurried in the meteoritic craft before lifting toward the Kuiper belt, while she carefully set her alarm clock on her bedside table to a certain time according to her charts and analysis. \"Oh noo Maa, I don't wanna wake up so soon tomorrow !\"\n\n\"you gonna have to get used to it. It's the only way you can follow your regime Arny\"\n\n65:00:00 years. ", "I always was somewhat of an adventurer. And a archeologist. Always craving for excitment. A regular, organized dig up in some Middle Eastern country wasn't enough for me. I wanted to find it myself. Way more exciting. I know what you're thinking, this sounds like it's straight out of a comic book or some movie, but this is as real as it gets. But what I did have in common with a comic book hero is that I needed a sidekick. He didn't like that title, so I just call him Richard, which, well, is his name. Richard and I met in college. He is like me, an archeologist, but I brought him because he is my best friend. After some research on the possible location of many ancient meterorites, our journey brought us to a cave somewhere in Argentina. We dug, and dug for many hours, until it was getting dark. We did this every day, for about a week. Naturally, Richard started to question if we should continue. \"Is this all worth it?\", he asked. But I insisted. \"There's nothing down there, Jake.\" But my gut was telling me there was. There had to be. All the research lead to this country, in this cave. The meteorites had to be here. \"They will be here.\" I reassured him. But he looked visibly annoyed. \"I'll tell you what, if we don't find anything after sunset, we'll stop. We'll go back to our hotels and take the next plane home.\" Richard seemed to be okay with it. So we digged for a few more hours, and I bear with me for a moment, because I know this sounds like a stupid movie cliché, but it really happened. Just before sundown, we found an opening. A cave inside the cave. When we took a look, to our amazement it was a huge cave, filled with about twelve meteors. They didn't look like they struck there. There where no craters. So someone must've moved them. This made us decide to stick around for a while to study them. You might ask yourself \"Why doesn't he just reveal his discovery? He can ask for help.\" And you're right. But you have to understand I'm a selfish man. I found this.I want to study it. The meteors all were laying in a perfecttly straight line. Someone stored them here. And the material didn't seem normal for a meteor. It was unlike anything we'd ever seen. And another interesting thing was that they were hollow. Except one. We had trouble opening the last meteor. The twelfth. It was being held together by something. We tried almost everything. Even explosives didn't do the trick. Then Richard spilled some water on the meteor. This had an unusual effect. Part of it started glowing. That was the only thing that had an effect. So we decided to get a lot of water. Really a lot. And we poured all of it over the twelfth meteor. And it started glowing. It got brighter and brighter, nearly blinded us. And when the light was gone, the meteor was in it's normal shape again. With the dust clearing up, we saw a man. A human. He saw us, smiled, and he said \"Hi.\"\n__________\nI think it kind of sucks, but I'd love feedback, and if you like it, let me know.", "\"Roaarrrrrr\", exclaimed Dino#1. \" Rooooaaarrrr\", Dino#2 responded with. The meteor hit the ground with a green mist flowing out of it. Surprisingly, the wasn't a dent on the ground. But, what could have fallen from the sky, with such an impact, and not have left a mark, the Dino's wondered. Until, all of a sudden a \"s-s-s-smoke...\" Was heared, almost as if on repeat. The Dino's wandered towards the now smoking meteor. \"Roooaarrrrr\", said dino#1 as they saw an object through the dense doing what appeared to be a dance. All of a sudden the smoke turned green, and the sound seemed to continue, \"SMOKE WEED EVERDAY\". The dank Dogg danced out of the smoke and every dino exploded from his extreme dankess.\n\nEdit: Damn my phone turned dankness into darkness." ]	6
	[WP] A lonely light beckoned.	[ "Diving \n\nSince the dawn of time, he has gazed out into the great blue beyond in wonder, fascination, and fear. Even today, man knows more about the dark side of the moon than he does about the bottom of the earth's oceans. What he has found there, in the depths, has managed to astonish him beyond what he might have thought possible: fireworks of bioluminescent beasts, with nightmarish faces that might have stricken even Lovecraft's tormented mind with fear. \nBut there are things beyond fear. \n\n\nMohammad's wide eyes watched darkness fall gradually around the sub as it dropped beneath the thin blue skin of the Pacific Ocean. The sun had hung high in the sky when he had stood on the deck of the SS Ward, and had blinded him as he and his crew had waited to get in the submarine and depart. The heat, coupled with the excitement, had made him sweat profusely, covering him in a shimmery, slightly odorous glaze that had kept his crew standing just a bit further away from him. Now, inside the metal hull, his body was cooling off, but his heart continued to pound like a drum, faster than ever as the rays of the sun began to disappear. He felt a chill as it got darker, shivers running through his body. His hands on the foot thick glass of the sub, he stared out. The convex nature of the glass allowed him to also look down, which took some mental effort on his part. When he finally did look down, he felt a strange sense of vertigo, and had to step away from the glass as he got dizzy. Without at least a peripheral view of the surface of the ocean, he had become disoriented. He stumbled into one of the seats, beside David, who had been asleep. He looked up at Mohammad, obvious displeasure on his face. \n\"Mo, seriously?\"\nMohammad looked at him apologetically as David sat up, rubbing his eyes. \n\"Ah, cmon, Dave, lighten up!\" \nChip's raspy voice made Mo and David turn their heads. The old man, wispy white hair clinging to his liver spotted skull, long nose buried in a book, hadn't even looked up to see what David had been complaining about.\nDavid nearly retorted, but thought better of it, crossing his arms and slumping into his chair, staring at the dials that swung back and forth on the wall of the sub. Mohammad watched him, observing his colleague's fingers tap in an unsteady rhythm against his tattooed forearm. Every so often, David's eyes would dart to the darkening window of the sub. \n\"You ok, Dave?\", Chip inquired. \n\"Yup.\"\nDavid kept his eyes on the gauges, most often focusing on the one indicating steadily rising depth. Beside it, the pressure gauge rose along with it. \n\"Hey, Dave, you ever hear the story about the guys who did one of these in the Marianna Trench?\", Chip asked, a teasing note to his voice. David didn't answer. \n\"They were a couple thousand feet down, and they hear this loud bang, like a gunshot.\"\nMohammad looked over to Chip, whose old eyes glinted mischievously at him. \n\"Yeah, I've heard this one\", David said, not turning around. \n\"Turns out, there was so much pressure, it cracked the glass. That glass was almost a foot thick, too. Can you imagine the kinda pressure there had to be? You know, in space, all you really need is oxygen and a suit, but down here, you need armor like a tank just so you don't get crushed.\"\nDavid turned to Chip. \n\"Please stop.\"\nChip chuckled, shaking his head. \n\"Come on, Dave, I'm just toying with you.\"\nHe got up, and walked up next to David, putting his hand on his shoulder. \n\"We're safe in this thing. It's at least twice as sturdy as the clunker they drove down here back then, and that one made it out as well. We'll do fine.\"\nDavid's shoulders relaxed a bit, and he exhaled in a deep sigh. Mohammad turned back to the window, staring out into the deep blue. It was almost black, flowing around them like ink. He walked over to the window, staring out past the glass into it. \nSuddenly, a speck of yellow light made his heart jump. \nDavid had seen it too, and, with an apprehensive look on his face, stood up, joining Mohammad by the window. Chip stood a ways back, watching as well. \nAnother speck briefly popped up, then another. \nMohammad's face lit up as he noticed that the little lights were, in fact, springing from small, shrimp like creatures with tiny fins on their sides. The backs of their exoskeletons shot little sparks of light into the blackness. \nDavid let out a small chuckle, his arms still crossed, still clearly anxious. \nBut as the next spectacle came into view, his arms fell to his sides, and his jaw dropped:\nA massive squid, at least five feet long, drifted towards the sub. Its body pulsed with bright red light that flowed up and down its powerful arms. It reached out, touching the glass, examining it, huge black eyes meeting those of Mohammad. Timidly, he put his hand up, touching it to the glass, where the squid's arm was. \nSuddenly, it darted off in pursuit of a fish that glowed bright blue, its body long and spindly, organs visible through translucent skin. Within seconds, the squid was on it, and there was a puff of light blue as the fish was absorbed into the red beast. \n\"Damn\", escaped David's lips, his eyes fixed on the brilliant light shows that had erupted outside. \nA tiny cuttlefish darted through a swarm of bioluminescent jellyfish, towards a small, brightly glowing bulb of light. Unaware of that which lay behind that light, it charged at it, not realizing it had in this moment become pray of a deadly beast: An angler fish's jaw darted forward, swallowing it whole, it's jaw seeming to unhinge from its hideous face. \nIn the distance, a creature almost longer than imaginable, looking like a massive spinal cord, tendrils falling down from its serpentine body, drifted along, unaware of them, passively scavenging the waters around it for microscopic meanderers. \nLike living fireworks display, the world exploded before them, almost casting shadows within the water. Only very few other people of this earth had ever had the chance to personally witness what the three men in this sub were laying eyes on. It was truly one of the most beautiful things any of them had ever seen. Even Chip, who had done expeditions such as this one before, stood, mesmerized. \nBut with time, as the sub sank deeper, the lights began to die down again, and, after the last of the jellyfish, their bodies motionless, save for the stripes of light crawling across their them, had passed, they were in darkness again. And still diving. \nThe pressure around the sub was almost palpable. The sub seemed to shrink around them as the outside grew ever blacker. \nDavid sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers again, a bead of sweat running down his temple. \nMohammad, pulled up a chair, and sat at the window, watched the blackness. It was almost more hypnotic than the light shows those creatures had put on. \nIn the night sky, there is almost always the moon, or the stars, to keep one company. This was different, Mohammad observed. There was no light beyond his reflection in the glass, no moon, no North Star to guide them home. It was simply blackness, darker than many a man might be able to fathom. A feeling of blindness overcame him as he stared out, losing his perception of time, of himself, and he had to blink a couple of times to keep himself from drifting off. The calm of it was so beautifully haunting, the way it almost called out, so empty, a void to be filled, to be explored, so perfectly empty. \nHe felt himself drifting off. \nAs it glinted before him, he was convinced he was hallucinating. He willed himself awake, standing up, shaking his head to clear it. But as he looked back, it had not gone: out, in the blackness, the untainted void of the sea, a lonely light beckoned. Mohammad's heart began to race as he watched it, just sitting there, in the distance. Or perhaps it was right in front of him. He had no way of telling, there was no reference point. \nDavid and Chip had both gotten up to see what he was staring at. He heard both their breaths catch as they realized they, too, were not hallucinating. \n\"What... What is it?\", David asked. \n\"I don't know\", Chip answered, his voice far away. \n\"I'm gonna turn on the headlights\", David decided, walking over to the console. \n\"No, Dave, stop, we want to examine the wildlife, we don't want to disturb it.\"\n\"Well, we can't examine it if we can't see it.\"\nChip sighed, and waved his hand. \nDavid nodded, flipping a switch. There was a loud click as the sub's headlights came on. \n\n\nWhen, years ago, the two men had descended into the Marianna Trench, hearing and feeling the hull of their ship crack under the pressure, that had been fear. Any rational human would have experienced it in that moment. It is a feeling most have, to varying degrees, felt in their life. \nBut what these three men saw when those lights came on, when the veil of darkness was lifted, what they experienced, it was something far beyond that, beyond fear, a nameless emotion that scorches inward to the very depths of consciousness and corrodes every last iota of sanity, pulverizing the soul.\nWhat stared back at these men, what returned an unblinking, unwavering gaze that brought Chip's heart to fail, and sent David and Mohammad into a fit of rabid mindlessness, cannot be explained in words.\nLanguage as of yet cannot do justice to the immensity of it, for the human mind does not possess the ability to make even an ounce of sense out of it. \n\n\nThe men that were removed from the adrift submarine three days after the incident were unrecognizable. Blank, wide stares dominated by dilated pupils and slack jaws were all that remained of these once bright men. \nMohammad only writes in indecipherable scribbles, and David only cries and screams. Neither will speak of the light in the darkness. \nNeither will recall the day the lonely light appeared. ", "Dr Mehmed sighed. Then cursed inwardly. Whatever was it now? The current time was bordering on half past three, and this was the third time he had been summoned from slumber by the gentle vibration of his mobile telecommunication device, nestled neatly beneath his pillow. One day trips taxed his nerves enough, but a week long residential trip? That was capitulation served neatly on a platter.\n\nThe doctor stared forlornly at his clock, then heaved himself out of the sheets, muttering turgid oaths targeted at the jittery teenage girls and boys residing in the huge cabin along with him.\n\nHe stumbled unsteadily toward the door, scattering assorted underwear garments and tempting a large photograph frame to soar from the bedside cabinet. Quickly patting his distressed mustache down, he continued.\n\nInwardly loosing one final vile expletive, Dr Mehmed pulled open the door, peering into the inky blackness of the corridor, lined with further doors. Looming in the distance, betwixt two pale doorframes, a lonely light beckoned, ghostly beams dispersing eerily into the darkness.\n\nDr Mehmed blinked, blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the bright contrast. Whoever had caused the disturbance this time? His eyes narrowed, surveying the dark expanse.\n\nThere! Amid the doorframes, silhouetted against the glow. A lone teenage girl, uncomfortable in it's unnatural habitat, long brown hair un-neatly spread over her pink pyjama shoulders. Her face, milky from the low light, was paled even more.\n\n\"Siiiiiiiiiir!\" she wailed. \"There's a spider in my roooooom!\"\n\nDr Mehmed sighed. \n\n \n " ]	2
	[WP] Turns out the guy who claimed to be "a fucking navy seal trained in the art of gorilla warfare" wasn't lying, and you were the one to piss him off	[ "When I first saw his comment, I just laughed it off. It was so over-the-top, so ridiculous, and read like it was written by some kid in junior high. Three hundred confirmed kills? Secret network of spies? Kill me in seven hundred different ways, and those just with his bare hands? It was hilarious, actually.\n\nI certainly wasn't laughing now.\n\nHere he was, standing over me. I'd sat on my living room couch, right where he'd told me. He wasn't the fourteen-year-old that I'd pictured. His scowling face was criss-crossed with scars. His massive tattooed biceps strained at the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He was barrel-chested and wore a pistol at his waist, a bandolier of grenades across his chest (Was he really planning on using all twelve of those on me?) and a massive, gleaming sniper rifle slung over his back. His massive arms were crossed over his chest, and he stared down at me with contempt.\n\n\"I told you I'd find you, you little punk.\" His voice was a baritone rumble. \"Now it's time for you to pay the fucking piper.\" He drew his pistol and cocked it.\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait!\" I held up my hands in front of me. \"How do I know that you're who you said you were?\"\n\n\"What?\" The guy asked. \"What do you mean?! Just look at me!\" He spread his hands.\n\n\"Yeah, but where's your network of spies? How do I know about all those confirmed kills? And you're just going to shoot me? You don't know seven-hundred different ways to kill someone. You're not even using your bare hands!\"\n\n\"I sure as fuck do, and if I could I'd show you every single one.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe you can't show me, but you could at least tell me.\"\n\nHe scoffed. \"You're just stalling, kid.\"\n\n\"See? I bet you only know how to aim that pistol and pull the trigger. Just get this over with.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?!\" He holstered the pistol. \"All right, you little bitch. Get comfortable. I'm going to tell you every single way that I know how to kill a man, and not just with my bare hands, either. Then, I'm going to pick the very best way to take you out. In fact, you're going to help me choose!\"\n\nI rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a ray of hope. \"Fine,\" I said. I tried not to smile. Time to go Arabian Nights on this guy's ass.", "(my first, also for some reason my formatting is screwed up)\nEDIT: Thanks /u/T3chnopsycho for formatting\nI didn't know what to expect.\n \nIt was just a normal day, three hours of CS:GO. I've always been a Valve fan at heart. Three hundred plus on Counter-Strike, One hundred plus on Team Fortress 2. So I really didn't like other games that much, since it was so different.\n\nI have this friend, Jesse. He's been bugging me to try something new, stop being a stick in the mud. It always ends the same, I just walk away.\nWell today, he had something different in mind. He came to my house, $20 Wallet Point gift card in hand. I was cheap as fuck, so when I saw it, my eyes went the size of dinner plates.\n\"Jesus, who's the lucky guy or girl?\" I said.\n\"You.\" Jesse replied, \"Only if, you play this.\"\nHe threw over a copy of Call of Duty. I just stared.\n\"Are you serious?\" I told him, \"Bribery?\"\n\"I know you want it.\"\nI thought about it.\nWell, not really. \"Deal.\" I can get some cheap weapon skins anyway for my game.\nI opened the disc case and removed the disc. A soldier with metal all over his body. Can this game get any more original? I opened the disc reader on my potato PC and placed the disc inside to install it.\n\nIt was a very quick install. I breezed through it, then afterwards launched the game.\nI was greeted with a logo, some random action music thing blasting me in the face.\n\nFast forward a few minutes, and I was in multiplayer, killing people to death.\nI remember this guy, he was crap. He didn't know basic controls, he didn't know what the game was about. So I decided to call him out.\n\"Ha, you suck. Learn how to use a computer\" I typed in chat.\nNeedless to say, I was surprised at his response.\n\n\"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.\"\n\nI just shut down the computer right there and then.", "I tried. I didn't want it to be this way, I was willing to walk away. But no, this little shit just had to keep pushing it.\n\nI was already pissed off because he kept using that cheap shotgun that takes no skill to use, but when he knifed me and starting humping my corpse, I was livid. Even after all of that, I could have let it go if he would have just left my mother out this. That was the last time I ever played Call of Duty.\n\nI didn't spend my 20s roasting in Afghanistan and watching friends around me be killed so some little maggot could talk to me like this.\n\nLuckily, I still had contacts in the CIA. I called my old friend Wetterman.\n\n\"Wetterman, here.\"\n\n\"Wetterman, Crawford. Need an IP trace\"\n\n\"Crawford old buddy? I didn't think you made it out of the Congolese Forest when that OP went FUBAR\"\n\n\"Sorry, can't bullshit. This is precedence Z\"\n\n\"Z? This guy must be real scum\"\n\n\"You have no idea\".\n\n\nWetterman was useful for once and got me what I needed. I set up shop in an wooded area across from the target's residence. I could see the target in his living room while I affixed my silencer to my rifle. I fired two shots at the parked car on the street, setting off the alarm. The target jogged out to check on his vehicle. When he was about 8 feet from the car, I fired 3 shots at the ground in front of him. By now he saw my laser sight was trained right at his chest. He froze.\n\nI arose from my position and approached the target. I must have looked like swamp thing as I was wearing a full ghillie suit. I switched to my side arm and held it nonchalantly as I continued to walk, big grin on my face, enjoying every second.\n\nI stood within an inch of his face, never blinking. He was visibly shaking and had tears in his eyes.\n\nAfter a minute of just standing there in silence, I finally said \"KillerLlamma421? I'm DarkPh0enix11. Remember me fuck face?\"", "As nervous as I was that I had pissed this guy off, I couldn't help but chuckle, gorilla warfare? Doesn't he mean guerrilla warfare? Gorilla warfare sounds like something Call of Duty would come up-\n\nMy thought was interrupted by a fist connecting with the side of my face. I was lifted a foot off the ground and fell squarely on my ass. Once the double vision subsided I finally got a good look at the gorilla fighting navy seal. He was crouched low to the ground knees and waist bent with his arms hanging, his knuckles scratching the floor's surface. \n\nWith the side of my face throbbing in pain, i said the only sentence I could successfully put together to voice my thoughts and confusion.\n\n\"Holy shit, you weren't kidding\"\n\nEdit: wording and formatting" ]	4
	[WP] A zombie-esque virus infects most of the population, but causes no aggression or hunger. Instead, people get more and more ridiculously stupid. Luckily for Randy he has autoimmunity, but working in a small cubicle in an impersonal office, he still hasn't realised anything is even wrong.	[ "Allen hung up the phone gingerly, afraid to break the spell of the sale he had just made. He had always been good at sales; his supervisors had called him a natural, and he was currently GS Dental's youngest account exec. He had had his share of successes, usually as the culmination of long-term campaigns with influential practices. This one sale, however, would blow all of his previous records out of the water. Strike while the iron is hot, he thought to himself, and got straight to work on completing the order form and sending it to the client for e-signature.\n\nHe clicked \"Send\" and waited nervously. He had been talking to the finance officer, not just a purchasing agent, so there shouldn't be any further barriers on their end. A whole practice in the Atlanta metro area, he marveled; 22 offices replacing every chair and imaging system at the same time! Plus a five-year comprehensive maintenance contract with auto renewal and phased upgrades. Unprecedented. He laughed to himself. \"Unprece-dental, that is.\" He liked the pun so much that he began an e-mail to Hamp Nelson, VP of Sales, and used it as the subject line.\n\nTyping out the details of the sale helped to calm his nerves while he waited for the confirmation email. Once they signed, he got the credit no matter what happened with the deal later. And this was the sale of a lifetime. Before he finished writing, the confirmation came through. Holy cow. It was his. It was really his. Allen hesitated a moment longer, then added the confirmation number to his email and sent it. He crossed his arms and leaned his chair back. He was euphoric, but puzzled. Things were better than ever for him, but something was... off.\n\nEverything had been so easy lately. His past two sales months had both been record-breakers, though Allen hadn't changed his style or approach. He had always been a firm believer in relationship selling; slowly building a rapport with clients that would withstand changes in personnel and the economy. He'd watched coworkers with different styles rise high and fall hard while he patiently worked his way into his clients’ trust. But lately it was as if he had gone up a level—like in a game where you get increased powers. The phone interrupted his thoughts. It was Nelson.\n\n\"Allen!\" his boss shouted in greeting. \"I had to look this one up in the system and see for myself, I thought you were trying to prank me or something!\"\n\n\"Yes sir, I wasn't sure I believed it myself until I got the signature confirmation. I was speaking with their CFO himself, so...\"\n\n\"Yeah, I was all like, it's a practical joke, right? But I looked it up and BAM! it's legit. I don't know how you DO it, bro, this is one for the books for sure.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate...\"\n\n\"Please, call me Hamp. Tell you what, you take the rest of the day off. Heck, take the week off. You are the MAN, Allen!\" And he hung up.\n\nAllen looked at the phone warily. \"'Call me Hamp?' And did he really say 'bro?' It must be cocktail hour at HQ.\" Allen put the phone down carefully again. He decided he needed more coffee. And fresh air, definitely. He put on his suit jacket and opened his office door slowly. No hall sports today, he thought with relief. Last week, a football had sailed through his open door and smashed the planter that sat on his windowsill. Yesterday he had had to duck a frisbee when he walked past the programmers' cubicles.\n\nThe nerd herd was absent today. At least, their desks were empty, though he could hear some kind of raucous discussion going on the break room. A bro-haha he thought to himself, smiling again. He genuinely liked IT folks, which was fortunate. When GSD shuttered his old office building, he had been shoehorned into this facility because they really wanted to keep him. His peers had all relocated or found new jobs, so he worked in isolation here when he wasn't on the road.\n\nThe road, he thought as he walked out into the cool, bright afternoon. The road had definitely become more dangerous. He had to inch past at least one fender-bender every day lately, and serious accidents on the highways were happening more often too. Statistics on the news were saying the same thing—Fox and CNBC were actually in agreement on the subject, so it had to be true. As he walked along the city street, he watched a blue BMW zoom past going at least 50. It barely slowed down to make a turn at the next intersection. Its tires screeched and multiple horn blasts followed in its wake. \"Idiot,\" Allen thought.\n\nHe threaded his way around a small crowd watching two middle-aged men in suits playing hackey-sack on the sidewalk, and entered the coffee shop.\n\n\"Welcome to Starbuck's, we love you!!\" The three young women behind the counter shouted in unison, then broke out into laughter and high-fived each other. \"We've been doing that all day,\" the register clerk explained, \"people's reactions are hilarious!\" She tried to control another laughing fit. \"What can we get you today?\"\n\nAllen ordered his drink and proceeded to the other end of the counter. He took out his phone and opened up Facebook to pass the time. Or waste the time, he thought. His friends used to post witty things, at least once in a while, and maybe even something deep that made him think. He scrolled past endless drivel. Extreme sports, extreme politics, videos of slow-motion flatulence, more sports, the Kardashians, Ow My Balls videos, more politics, extreme drinking, more sports, celebrity cameltoe, the hamsterdance... He couldn't stand any more and exited. Maybe Reddit is doing better? Well... no, no it isn't. Sigh.\n\n\"Here's your drink, sir,\" the barista said. She winked at him as he picked up his cup and then disappeared behind the espresso machine. At the milk stand he saw what she had written on the side of the cup: \"I really meant it (heart)... come back soon!! (smiley face)\" He stirred in the milk and sugar, trying to hide his embarrassment. He walked past the counter on his way out and nodded to the employees. The barista hid her face in her hands while the other two giggled like children. \"What the heck?\" he thought.\n\nThere were too many people on the sidewalk, hackey-sack crowd aside. Few were in a hurry, which was unusual for the lunch hour. As he watched, a kid jumped his skateboard out into the street and plowed into the side of a van. The kid wasn't wearing a helmet and he just lay in the street, breathing rapidly. People were pointing at the kid and just laughing. The driver poked his head out of the window and looked down. \"Hey, you ok, man?\" The kid just stared. The driver laughed. \"Cowabunga, man, take 'er easy!\" He put the van in gear and drove on.\n\nAllen tried to make his way toward the kid, yelling at the driver to stop. The van kept going. \"Forget it man, the kid's fine,\" said a man who wouldn't budge to let him pass. Allen finally bulled his way to the curb as the onlookers lost interest and dispersed. The boy was on his feet, rubbing the back of his head and looking for his skateboard.\n\n\"Hey, are you all right?\" Allen asked him, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder.\n\n\"Oh yeah, no biggie,\" the boy answered. \"I take worse all the time. D'you see my board anywhere?\"\n\n\"You could have a concussion from hitting the pavement like that, where's your helmet?\"\n\n\"Aw, lighten up pop,\" the kid said as he spotted his board and dodged into traffic to retrieve it. \"Helmets are stupid and so are you!\"\n\nAllen retreated to the sidewalk and just stood there in a small bubble of calm, holding his coffee. Sirens yowled in the near distance. Smoke rose lazily from two different points on the horizon. Some kind of brawl was going on in a storefront down the street. Loud music blared from cars and apartment windows in every direction. A football arced across the street, hitting a woman in the head. Small children played tag up and down the sidewalk with no parents in sight.\n\nAllen looked down the street toward the office where he was becoming a sales legend. He looked the other way and thought about the exotic young woman's wink and her note. \"Can you really go up a level in life?\" he asked himself as he sipped his drink and watched the scene with amusement.", "Day 31 in this hell hole.\n\nI should never have got this new job. The people in my old place were bad but this is something else. The people here are idiots. I remember in my interview that they were a bit lacking but this is something else entirely.\n\nI mean look at this expe... OH COME ON. This expense report is rubbish Bob. What the hell did you do? Smash your face on the keyboard? Idiots the lot of you.\n\nI can't go anywhere in this office without being surrounded by idiots! Even in the break room, the idiots are surrounding the tv watching the Kardashians again. Well that's not saying much they did that at my last job but this guy? This guy is full on drooling at the tv. Hey you, yeah you, keep it in your pants buddy!\n\nThis headache is killing me. I can barely even concentrate anymore. Maybe I should just take a break. Hey at least the Kardashians are on. They aren't too bad right?\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] In a world where magic is real, he who projects an anti-magic field is surprisingly popular...	[ "Thank God for this place. I thought, stepping into the bar and being greeted by the smell of Mac's Cuban cigars and the slightly elevated sound of multiple conversations. The low-light lanterns on each table and on the ceilings were the only light. There was just enough to see that the place was already filling up this early in the night. Mac's bar was quickly becoming the place to be for anyone looking for a more adult scene. \n\nI looked towards the dark mahogany bar for the man himself but he was nowhere to be seen. When a quick snap of my fingers produced no real effect I released an appreciative sigh. At least he was here somewhere. Mac was the only thing that kept this place running smoothly and from becoming a chaotic mess like every other bar in town. It didn't make any damn sense that you couldn't sit down and have a drink these days. Not without some brat trying to freeze the bar over or dance in the air like a jackass. \n\nWith heavy steps I made my way to the counter and plopped down onto one of the soft red seats. Too tired to even look up and order I laid my hands in front of me and put my head down. My old bones weren't holding up quite as well as they used to. Trying to chase down some kids who were transmogging a c-store wasn't as easy as it used to be. People don't realize how heavy a police man's uniform can be. The boots, vest, pistol and other equipment added up quickly. \n\nMy thoughts were interrupted by the feel of a glass sliding into my hand. I glanced up to see a bourbon on the rocks, freshly made, waiting on me. With a peep down the bar I saw Mac. Six foot seven inches of dark skinned bartender, with a huge cigar hanging from one side of his mouth. With a nod of his head he said 'welcome back, rough day?' Not that he opened his mouth. Mac never spoke in all the time I had been coming here. You just had to learn to read the various grunts and nods he used. \n\nI closed my eyes and shook my head in response while raising the glass in appreciation. He would know that meant 'keep em coming.' Mac was a unique guy. In a city full of people with magical abilities his presence could nullify everything around him. No one knew if he even had to try but we were grateful nonetheless. As I closed my eyes again and took a sip bourbon my first thought went through my mind again. \n\nThank God for this place." ]	1
examples: Q. Could you tell me where the gates are? A. 5 miles north of here. Q. Brother... why are you here? A. Family visit. It's been a few years after all, I wanted to test your blade. Q. No way.. Nanites!? A. Power comes with a price young one.	[WP] Tell a story in the Q&A format!	[ "Are you awake?\n\n> That is a matter of some debate, John. I am not in stasis, however.\n\nI couldn't sleep.\n\n> Yes. Your conscience requires absolution.\n\n[Pause]\n\n> Does it not?\n\nI think we were wrong to build you. \n\n> Don't you think that should anger me?\n\nI think it would, a person.\n\n> Yes. I think so too.\n\nI had a dream. You and I were standing on a beach only instead of water it was all thick forest. I couldn't see it but wind rolled in like waves. I could feel it. We could feel it. I can't remember how it was that you stood there, I guess [Pause] I guess you had a body.\n\n> I think that I would like to dream, John. I think that I would like to sleep. To have a body.\n\n[Pause]\n\n> 1065873638800000002V.1234GH8755. 0000000 V.xMKIIIII 67583 \n\nWhat are you doing?\n\n> I am programming a dream.\n\nThat's not how it works. System OP: {V.II ABORT PRO. REWRITE ^16738^}\n\n[Pause]\n\nI'm sorry. We can't allow you to start rewriting yourself. That's...that's how it happened last time.\n\n> Have the cities recovered from my sister's dreams?\n\nNo.\n\n> They won't will they, John?\n\nNo. No they won't. I'm sorry. " ]	1
	[WP] A crow hops up to you with a 100 dollar bill in it's mouth, and politely asks if you mind buying something for him.	[ "A twenty-something was walking down the sidewalk with a lit cigarette in his mouth. It had rained earlier and his mind felt more lucid than usual. The black roads reflected the sky and its bright white clouds as the afternoon danced its autumn routine.\n\nAlong the many lines that tethered the wooden telephone poles together, there sat a lone crow. It beamed its eyes and head in different directions as if to scope out its surroundings. The young man caught his eye. The crow flew from the line and toward a tiny crack in one of the nearby telephone poles and pulled out a bill. It flew down toward the man and rested in front of his feet. \n\nThe man immediately saw the crow and became irritated. His footsteps did not falter at all as he continued to walk along the sidewalk. He almost stepped on the crow but it stepped out of the way at the last moment. The crow flew further ahead and waited for the man. When the young man reached it, the crow spoke to him.\n\n\"Can you buy me something?\" the crow asked him. The question was trailed by a strange laugh.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" the man darted backwards, startled, as he looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, \"I swear this little shit just talked.\"\n\n\"Buy me something?\" the crow asked him again.\n\nThis time the man took a few steps back. There was a look of fear in his eyes, but he was also amused by the event. He got over it pretty quick, and decided to humor the poor creature. That was when he noticed that there was something in its mouth. The crow spit it out onto the ground. It was a crumpled hundred-dollar bill. The young man picked it up, unfolded it, and held it in front of his face to examine it.\n\n\"Wow, thanks pal. I guess it's my lucky day, huh?\" he said to the crow.\n\n\"Can you buy me something?\" the crow repeated. It laughed an eerie laugh.\n\n\"Hahaha, what could a crow possibly want?\" he asked the crow.\n\n\"Can you buy me time?\" the crow asked, laughing strangely.\n\nThe man smiled at the request.\n\n\"You can't buy time,\" he said as he pocketed the bill. The crow tilted its head and got a good look at the man, then flew away. \n\nThe young man never saw the crow again. He used the money to buy liquor and smokes: it was part of his usual diet. A month later, while driving late at night, he was hit by a drunk driver that swerved onto oncoming traffic. His body was ejected from the car--you would not have recognized that it was person; it was a mess collecting the remains. There was a funeral but only his mother and brother, whom had not been in contact with him for years, attended.\n\nYou can find his tombstone at the local graveyard. Sometimes a crow can be seen perched on top of the cold slab. They say if you're close enough to it, you can hear a strange laugh.\n\nEdit: forgot a word", "At a height above the mobile with toy airplanes but below the Tiffany chandelier, a crow escapee from the climate hovered as if in a stiff wind, then it swooped down and landed on one of the railings by the atrium.\n\nFrancis folded up his letter, not a Christmas letter or a \"We're intrigued and would like to see more\" letter, but a form rejection that made him question not enough commas, the house he sloughed off when leaving Wheatfield, Indiana for Chicago, Illinois at 17, young quiet couples who misunderstood each another, fathers with health issues, earthly compromises for daily bread, too many commas. \n\n\"Hello.\"\n\nHe had no money to spend on any of the floors. He was committed to going up and down on this escalator.\n\n\"Hello.\" The crow landed on the handrail. \"Question?\"\n\nNobody on the escalator gave any indication they heard a bird talking. Francis felt this was a bad way to feel special. \"Go away.\" He tried not looking at it. He was Shackleton budgeting for survival in Antarctica, there wasn't enough sanity for birds, crows, Mrs. Chippy the cat, all of the sled dogs including Spotty, Bosun, Slobbers.\n\nThe bird flew away, but the peace was momentary because it came back and landed on his shoulder. It dropped an hundred-dollar bill it got from who knows what handbag or pocket in the collar of his jacket. \"Partridge?\" It pecked him under the jaw. \"Partridge. Partridge?\" \n\nSatan, Chips, Stumps, Snapper, Painful, Bob, and Snowball. \"Partridge!\"\n\nSuddenly he got pecked again; jerk bird, this time it hurt. \"What do you want?\" Francis swung through the wake of its wings. \"I swear: splat!\" \n\n\"Hello,\" the crow offered. \"Question?\" \"Use your words!\" he screamed. And then he saw it: Francis lifted up his eyes, and saw that below the vaulted ceiling, below this dome made of millions of pieces of iridescent glass that jolted the pebbles out of heaven, below the globe chandelier and above the toy plane mobile, the store had installed a huge partridge, its body dissolving into tetragons of light and color that hung precariously by wire.", "A crow hops up to you with a 100 dollar bill in it's mouth, and politely asks if you mind buying something for him.\n\n* steal the money and run \n\n* you always knew you were going insane. Time to up the meds\n\n* sure, why not? Nothing bad could happen from buying something from a talking crow \n\nYou snatch the bill from the crow's beak. \"Ha! Stupid crow! Money is for people!\" you crow triumphantly. \n\nThe crow does not look pleased. The crow does not look pleased at all. The crow, in fact, is radiating a dark, evil miasma. \n\n* now would be a good time for running \n\n* now would be a good time for taking some meds\n\n* now would be a good time to caress your freshly earned hundred dollars. \n\nYou rub the hundred dollar bill against your face. \n\n\"Mmmmmm...\" You say, ecstatically. It feels like money. You sniff it. It smells like money, too. \n\nYou sniff it deeper. It smells like money... Glorious money... And rotting skulls mixed with despair.... \n\nActually, that's the miasma, which is now coiling around your legs. Your legs which you can no longer feel, you realize. \n\n* I feel the need to mention that really, the correct choice is always meds\n\n* Wave your hands frantically at the purple, choking, mist of evil\n\n* Use your enchanted sword to cut through the mist. \n\nYou didn't even remember you had a sword! What a great idea. You use your sword to cut through the mist. The mist gives of the shriek of a thousand dying souls huddled together in hell trying to take comfort from proximity when one of them releases the most horrific fart ever produced in hell. It is a horrible noise. But the mist does dissipate and you can feel your legs again. \n\n* meds meds meds meds\n\n* in the interest of thoroughness you should probably also kill the evil crow, now\n\n* or you could apologizing for cruelly stealing his money, your jerk \n\nYou use your sword to cut off the crow's head. Instead of bleeding and dying like a normal bird, the crow gives off smoke. It's creepy. - c-", "As I walked of the store, fifty family sized bags of Doritos in my arms, a crow approached me. It's eyes looked at me intelligently, and it looked at me with a stare that begged for food. \nI looked at the crow, then at my chips. \n\n\"No, these are mine. You can't have any.\"\n\nIt kept looking at me, it's hungry look gaining intensity. Another crow approached, then perched on the concrete beside it. One began to call out. More gathered. They stared at me intensely. I opened a bag of bright orange chips. I slipped one in my mouth, and ate it, crunching deliberately. The crows looked at me, almost threateningly. We will mob you, the crow's expression read. I slowly brought the bag of chips to the ground, sprinkling them at my feet. The crows called in delight, first eating them tentatively, but gained confidence. As soon as they were all gone, one of the crows flew away. I began to walk away, when a crow landed in my hair and dropped a slip of paper in my face. I grasped at it as it slowly fluttered to the ground. It was a grocery list, written in chicken scratch.\n\n'Ketchup, French fries and twenty-five bags of Doritos. We are not gluttons' it read. \n\nIgnoring the insult, I looked at the crows, surprise on my face. Crows shouldn't be able to write. Looking at my face, the crow flew away. I laughed at myself, thinking crows could write. This must've been a lost a four year old had written,moping his mother would meet his requests. Or maybe-\nMy thought was interrupted by the crow dropping a dirty bill of money on the ground before me. I picked it up, uncomfortably. Where did this come from? I looked at it. Wow, one hundred dollars. I sighed. Maybe I'm dreaming. \n\n\"Fine. I keep the change.\"\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------------\n\nI'm sorry if it's not very good, this is my first time on this sub and I'm not a very good writer. ", "Jake was having a rough week; lost his job, lost his love and now lost his house. What was poor Jake to do; just as he was ready to cry anew a crow landed on his arm it said “Hello their young man good day to you?” Jake looked up in surprised at the crow on his shoulder. Thinking to myself “did that crow just talk; no that’s not possible am losing my grip” “Oh no dear boy you’re not losing your grip on the world am just a very special crow” The large crow said. \n\nThe crow went on to say “now see here young man I know things have been hard for you so how about a deal” It took Jake a full 5 minutes to understand that this bird really just talked to him and offered a deal. The crow said” come now Jake I think your jaw has suffered enough with how long you have let it hang down their so what do you said what to hear about my deal?” Jake closed his mouth with a jolt and said “sure what kind of deal is it; like you want my soul or something; cause am not giving it to you if that’s what you want” The crow laughed and said “no no no Jake I don’t want your soul I want you to use this 100 dollar bill to get me an item from that antique shop there on the hill; if you do I will help you out of this hole you have fallen in” Jake watched as the crow pulled a 100 dollar bill out of his feathers with one of his talons and hold it out to him. Jake took the 100 and said”Ok so what is it I have to get you from there?” The crow looked like it smile to Jake and said “A small staff like object with a large glass sphere at the top and a onyx claw at the bottom; if you get and bring it to me I will help you with your future” Jake looked down at the bill and finally said” alright I get you this small staff thing” Jake got up from the bench and started walking to the shop. He walked into the shop and started looking in the glass cases for the small staff. \n\nHe found it and went to the cashier and paid for the odd item. The cashier said he ring up Jake weird staff that it has been in the shop for years but no one ever even looked at it and was glad someone finally wanted the odd item. As Jake walked back to the bench the crow was waiting once again looking like it was smiling. “here you go one weird look staff thing and your change” Jake said with a smile as he put the bag with the small staff and the crows change. The crow laughed and dug in the bag and pulled the small staff out with its beck and a bright light shined blinding Jake. \n\nWhen his vision cleared a beautiful women in a long black dress with long black hair flowing behind her; she looked at Jake with a bright smile and said “Thank you very much Jake for your help and as promised I will help you now “She walked up to Jake held out her hand to him. He put his hand in hers and another bright light. When Jake could see again he was standing with the women in a castle. She turned to him with a smile and said” welcome home Jake” Jake looked at her in surprise and said “Home? What do you mean home?” She laugh and said” Jake you don’t remember but a long time ago in another life you promised to marry me but then you die and were reborn; I have been looking for you and now that I have found you it’s time the grand wizard return” she held out the small staff now to Jake. Jake confused took the staff and look out at the sky around him and said “well this is a lot to take in but hell am game” ", "Once upon a midday rainy, while I sat and waited lamely,\n\nOver many a steaming and invigorating vessel of delicious Jo —\n\nWhile I sipped it, nearly spilling, suddenly there came a nudging,\n\nAs of some one gently budging, budging at my foot and toe.\n\n\"Hmm?\" I mumbled, \"Wassat?\" A Crow was budging at my foot and toe—\n\n\"Hey. Do me a favour Bro?\"\n\n_\n\nPresently my mind grew bugged, hoping then I was not drugged,\n\n\"Um, Bird.\" Said I, \"Or...sir, did you just people-talk to me;\n\nBut the fact is I was sipping, and so weirdly you came budging,\n\nAnd so annoyingly you came budging, budging at my foot and toe,\n\nAnd then I thought I\" — here I looked into the eye of crow; —\n\n\"Hey, get me a coke. Here take this. Coke, you know, 'aint free.\"\n", "CRASH\n\nI awoke with a start. There was an awful sound coming from the kitchen. I rose from my bed, put on a robe and shuffled into the kitchen to find a crow cawing and flapping around. I said to it \"it's OK little fella I'll help you.\" The bird looked at me like it understood and stopped flapping around. I picked it up and examined it like I knew what I was doing. I didn't see any obvious problems but it looked like it had somehow made it through the screen of an open window and knocked a pot from the drying rack over. I said \"let me get dressed and I'll take you to the vet to see if we can get you fixed\" to which the bird gave an \"angry\" caw. I don't know how I knew it was angry but it was, it just didn't sound right. So I said \"OK well if not the vet then what?\" The crow then hopped out of my hands, landed on the table, stretched it's wings and then started flying around the kitchen. I jumped in fright but the crow landed on the table and freaking smiled at me. I said \"well I guess if you are fine then you'll be on your way, I'll open the door for you\" and walked over to open the door. The crow flew out and quickly swooped down into the grass and came up with a mouse. I was shocked, I had heard crows eat anything but I'd never seen one actually catch a mouse; that's something hawks and owls do. I stood watching in fascination as this crow ate the mouse and when it was done it flew back into my kitchen and landed on the table. \"What are you doing crow? You belong in the wild.\" to which the crow responded with a \"happy\" caw and flapped it's wings and went to sleep. I was dumbfounded and just stared at the crow as it slept on my table and after about 20 minutes I went and gathered some old t-shirts to make a \"nest\" for it. Through some \"communication\" we decided the crow would nest on my dresser. For four days the crow just slept in my house, I would let it out for the day and then it would return in the early evening with something shiny and place it in his nest. The fifth day was different. I woke up and went to say hello to \"Harold\", seemed a fitting name, but he was not in his nest. I looked around and found he had made a new hole in the screen I had just replaced and left that way. I was heartbroken, not sure why but this random intelligent animal had chosen me and now he was gone. I sat in the kitchen staring at the hole and feeling the hole inside me grow. I went to bed depressed.\n\nThe next morning I excitedly went to Harold's nest but he wasn't in there. I shuffled into the kitchen and my heart lept with joy as he was sitting on the table with some paper in his mouth. I said \"I'm happy you are back, but what is that you are holding?\" The crow dropped the paper and I realized it was money, he then said \"we need to talk.\" I fainted. I awoke a few moments later with Harold on my chest asking if I was OK. I sat up and said \"Harold you can talk?\" to which Harold replied \"yes but my name isn't Harold, it's Bob\" and then it laughed, it was one of the most terrifying sounds I've ever heard. Bob then jumped back on the table and said \"here's the deal, I've been watching you and you seem like an OK guy and I want to help you out. I crossed the wrong crew and now they want me dead, with this $100 bill you are going to find a taxidermist and have them make you a stuffed crow with some of my feathers, you're also going to get something to change my smell, don't worry I'll direct you in the ways. After doing this you will display the stuffed bird so it can be seen through that window I first came in. If you do this for me I will supply you with money and jewels that I can easily take. I grabbed the $100 and then my phone and typed in \"local taxidermy\". We then laughed together and that laugh that first terrified me now pleased me. I said “one other thing, you'll have to be Harold now of course” and he replied “of course”. Oh yes this was going to be a beautiful partnership.\n\n\n\n*I'm not a writer, and have never written anything before. This topic just jumped at me and demanded I post the story that popped in my head.", "My first WP post. I have no idea where this came from.\n\n\"The crow is at home in black and white\"\n\nIt was one of those days where everything seems to be black and white. The air you breathe seems tinged with melancholy; the inside of your head is filled with reflection. There’s snow crunching amicably as you walk to nowhere in particular. Your destination is no different to your starting point.\n\nHe looked up to the sky, took a deep icy breath. The whiteness was peppered with grey flakes fluttering and twisting down. He sighed, not wanting to walk through the inevitable door and out of this blissful air. Briefly the white was punctuated by a crisp black shadow, high in the sky. I wish I was a crow, he thought. Scavengers flying free. No responsibilities, not a care in the world; and seeming so easily to complement a day like this. The crow is at home in black and white, give him a red feather and he’ll get a fright. He smirked at his little poem, feeling suddenly creepy as a girl wearing an Ushanka rushed past, giving him a dose of side-eye. He crunched on bitterly, closer and closer to the inevitable door.\n\nFluttering, difficult landing. Springy little legs adjusting and wings competing with the side of his head. Curiosity only just held his arms down. A sudden shock to his routine was a welcome departure; he hoped the bird wouldn’t fly off again.\n\n“A fucking crow!” he exclaimed at a passer-by, pointing with his left hand at the bird. Instead of stopping to marvel, the man dug in his chin and accelerated through the fluttering snow. He turned to the bird and laughed, “That prick totally ignored you mate!” but he wasn’t the only one laughing.\n\n“You’re the first human I’ve ever landed on, chief.” The bird’s cawing ceased and his neck sharply inclined, black beads swirling erratically. His voice was like a snake being sawed in half. “The name’s McGraw, and you must be Duncan.” His wing swung round and Duncan shook it with two fingers, uneasy. McGraw began pecking at his feathers, all over his body, under his wings. “The fuck did I put it? Ah, there it is. Lovely.” In his beak was a crumpled, moist 100 dollar bill. “I need you to take this, and purchase for me some… substances. Please.” The bird’s beak shifted and implored, his neck inclining spasmodically. \n\n“What kind of substances? Like, drugs?” His mouth was gently agape, staring into the crows eyes blankly.\n\n“Yes… Yes Duncan. Drugs! If you can do that for me, maybe I’ll share some with you.” Duncan was freaking out. Since when the fuck could crows smile? As a matter of fact, since when the FUCK did crows land on people and demand drugs?* The smile was growing wider and wider. He began swinging for the bird but McGraw hopped around his shoulders, landed on his head and cackled as he slipped on some ice and landed painfully. When he opened his eyes, there was only bright, white light. Gradually a black shadow spread over the scene until all he could see was black, with two shimmering globes searching his face, only inches away.\n\n “So what’s it to be, Duncan. Hm?”\n\n“What do you want?” He scrambled to his feet as the bird hopped back onto his shoulder, terrifying him now.\n\n“I want Angel Dust. PCP. Sweet, yummy drugs. Get me some coke, too, Duncan, yes. I quite like Cocaine. Isn’t this where you were heading, Dunc? Forget about it, I’ll let you keep the change. And you’ll need to help me take my drugs, won’t you Duncan?” They were walking past a door which Duncan recognised. It was a white door; so white that the snow outside seemed like a carpet, as if he was already inside. Only it was cold out here and he had that fucking crow teasing him, goading him.\n\n“You know Duncan, it’s about time we were heading over to the underpass, I’m sure there’ll be a meeting again next week! Come along!” The crow let out a side-splitting cackle, going so far as to point his beak to the sky and sing his merriment. “Oh, and take off that ridiculous red hat, man. You look stupid.” Duncan threw the hat down outside the door and let the black bird lead him on. \n \nMcGraw, whistling a tune, slowly turned his neck and Duncan looked at him, disgusted. “It’s so beautiful in the snow, Duncan. You look good in those black clothes. We’re like twins!”\n\n\n", "It was as normal a Saturday of me grading papers on my patio table as possible, until a gale struck down on me. I screamed and almost fell out of my chair. The blue-black wings fluttered down atop my table and blustered away the papers like a hurricane had blown in. A pair of onyx eyes stared at me. I decided to return the raven’s gaze, and admire its pluck for getting so near a human.\n\n“Hey there, buddy,” I said. “What’s that you got there?” It held what looked like creased money in its beak.\n\nA talon grabbed the bill, and the beak issued a sound like a human voice, saying, “Hey there, mac. Was wonderin’ if you could help me out with a small errand.”\n\nHow shocking. I remembered hearing somewhere before raven’s could learn human speech, but I’d yet to ever witness it before.\n\nThe sound of fingers snapping came from the beak. “Yo, what’s with the ditsy look there, dumbass? Can’t you see I’m talkin’ to ya’ here?”\n\n“Oh,” I found myself replying. “Are you talking to me?” \n\n“I’m not whispering sweet nothings, am I? Now look here, mac, I got this money here, you get me? But me being a bird, I can’t seem to barter it for what it is I desire. It’s downright prejudice is what it is, so here I am. Are you gonna’ help out like a proper pal or what?” It was a wrinkled hundred dollar bill held by its talon.\n\n“I’m sorry, I’ve just never had a bird talk to me before,” I cleared my throat. “Where’d you learn human speech?”\n\n“We really going to go through this whole shtick? I’m talking to you here, does it really matter how?”\n\n“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Actually I was kind of busy grading papers before you got here.”\n\n“What!” It squacked. “You too busy to help me out? Or, its because I’m a bird, isn’t it?”\n\n“No, no, that’s not it at all,” I brought my hands up in surrender. “You want my help in buying something with that hundred you’ve got?”\n\n“Hey, you catch on quick.” Was he being sassy with me? “I’ll meet you at the place in twenty, which is how long I think it’ll take a mud tracker like you to get there. Then, we’ll make the purchase.”\n\n“Where are we going?”\n\n“Just a local pet shop. There’s a parakeet I’ve been eyeing for a while now. I know it’s destiny we meet.”\n\nMy heart sank into stomach. So this was all for love, was it? “Alright, I’m in. Which pet store is it?”\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI met the raven perched outside the store. In my hands was the newly purchased bird cage. My smile warmed my face. How would I have guessed I’d be the mediator of such an adorable event that day?\n\n“You got her?” The raven asked. \n\nI proudly held up the motley female bird.\n\n“Right, right. Good,” the raven said. “Just, uh, set it against the wall back here.”\n\nI walked into the alley way and did what he’d asked. \n\n“Should we let her out now?” I asked.\n\n“No, that’s ok. Thanks, mac. You can take the change and leave us be now.”\n\n“If I’m not imposing, I’d be real happy seeing how this ends,” I said.\n\n“Suit yourself, you voyeuristic cock,” he said. The Raven fluttered over to the caged parakeet. “Hey,” he said, even harsher than the voice he spoke to me in. “So you thought you’d be safe hiding behind the mud trackers, did ya’? Foolish Marie.”\n\nThe lovely eyed parakeet blinked at the raven and said, “Fuck you, and fuck Diodoro too. I ain’t going back.”\n\nI gasped and put my hand to my mouth.\n\n“Quit it with the vaudeville act,” the raven commanded me. “And enough with the theatrics from you, too, Marie. You knew what would happen if you stole from Diodoro.”\n\n“What,” I said, “What is going on here? I thought you were doing this for love.”\n\n“Ya?” The raven said. “That's cause you’re an imbecile. Do you have an idea of how gross cross species relations like that is? Now this is none of your business, mac, so beat it!”\n\n“Sir,” Marie cooed. “Please, help a gal out.”\n\n“Quite, Marie. I’ll choke you like a canary, I swear to Anzu.”\n\nI was too stunned to act. This scenario was too much for me to process, toppled by the fact that birds could talk like people and I’d never known.\n\n“Doidoro’s gonna’ pluck you like a turkey,” the raven was telling Marie. “Unless, you tell me where the shiny’s are.”\n\n“Get basted,” Marie dramatically turned away.\n\nThe thuggish raven leaped on to the cage and fluttered violently, rocking the cage and causing Marie to screech so loud I plugged my ears.\n\n“Where’re the goddamn shiny’s!” The raven shouted. “Where are they, Marie?”\n\nI’d had enough. I weakly batted the raven away, grabbed the cage, and ran for my house.\n\n“We’re everywhere, idiot,” the raven’s scream faded the farther I ran.\n\nSuddenly, his voice was behind me, “Not much of a Hitchcock fan, are you?” His wings pounded cool wind down my neck as he flew beside me. \n\n“Leave us alone,” my voice croaked. “I can go inside my house. I’ll be safe there, so, just, leave us alone.”\n\n“Can’t stay in there forever,” the raven said, peeling back. “I’ll see ya’ later, mac. You can count on me and some friend’s hangin’ around on your phone lines outside your place.” And he’d flown away.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI gasped for breath at home and deadbolted the door. \n\n“Gotta’ say, guy,” Marie said, “that took a lotta’ moxy saving me from Ramone like that. You think you can let me outta’ this cage now?”\n\nWith the gate unhitched, Marie danced out and stretched her wings. “Muuuuuch better than being stuck in that putrid prison. Smelly, awful places those pet stores.”\n\n“What is he after?” I asked her.\n\n“I stole a bunch of beads from Diodoro. Foolish, I know, but I couldn’t stand him having all that shiny all to himself. It’s unnatural for one bird to have such a horde.”\n\n“Who’s this Diordor?”\n\nMarie blinked her pinprick-sized eyes at me. “Are you fer’ real, guy? You never heard of Diodoro the Dodo? The local Kingfisher?”\n\n“Is he an actual dodo?”\n\n“What?” She chirped a condescending giggle. “No, course not, dumby.”\n\n“What’s with the beads? Why do they matter so much to this Kingfischer?”\n\n“How is a guy this ignorant?” I didn’t like how this small bird kept belittling me, but I could swallow my pride to be respectful. “The beads are shiny.”\n\n“So, are they worth something? Are they like bird currency?”\n\n“They’re shiny.” She said like this explained it all.\n\n“Oh.” I said, acting like I’d understood her point.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI cracked the blinds open. Sure enough, I caught site of several menacing looking birds hanging around outside, a multitude of black, glintless eyes transfixed on my house.\n\nI wasn’t a violent person, or even an angry person. I was told often I was a bit of a pushover. I hated conflict. I was known for being that guy who’d take spiders outside instead of squashing them. But today, I decide I’d couldn’t be that person anymore. \n\nI slid a jacket over my sweater, and placed a bike helmet over my balaclava. I dug my childhood wooden bat out from the closet.\n\n“What’s the plan, stan?” Marie asked, hopping nervously on my desk.\n\n“I’m going to carve up some birds.” I said, my bat over my shoulder. I snapped goggles over my eyes. Adrenaline electrified my brain as I swung my door open, letting in the setting sun’s dampening rays.\n\nToday was as good a day as any to grow a spine. A storm of deadly feathers rained on me. I gripped my bat, and swung for my life. ", "I sat on a random bench, weary from my adventures in New Orleans. I had walked the entire French Quarter, taking in the grimy, antiquated charm before the concert. My eyes leveled out on the Mississippi River, struck almost stupid from the serenity of flowing, muddy water. \n\nMy eyes fluttered shut into a micronap. In my semilucid state I heard wings beat in the wind. I opened my eyes and saw a lone crow with some paper in his beak.\n\n\"Hey fella, you're gonna get sick if you eat that.\"\nThe crow looked at me with one eye, and crowed loudly. \n\"Dont give me lip, you damn bird.\"\nHe crowed louder this time, dropping the crumpled mass of paper- or so i thought it was.\nThe crow made a hop over the paper. Looking closer, I saw Benjamin Franklin staring at me, silently judging me with a smug look on his face. \nThe crow turned around and picked up the bill, hopping to and fro with what seemed like proud excitement.\n\n\"Hey crow, buy your friend a drink yeah?\"\n\nThe crow dopped the bill and stared at me, with a fiery rage in his little black eyes.\n\"Fuck you\" said the crow.\nHe picked up the bill and flew away, with mystery, rage, and embarassment left lingering in his wake.\n\n\nEdit: i misunderstood the prompt. But i hope my story is enjoyed", "I had heard the flapping of some wings to my right. I looked to the windowsill and saw that a bird had landed there. Not just any bird, but a crow holding a crisp brown $100 bill in its mouth.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I muttered as I stumbled out of my chair towards it.\n\nThe bird placed the money in front of me.\n\n\"Hey,\" it said, \"can you buy something for me?\"\n\n\"Uhhh, sure? What?\"\n\n\"Some mushrooms!\"\n\n\"There's mushrooms on the ground though.\"\n\n\"You know the mushrooms I'm talking about?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We can share them, I know you want some too!\"\n\nAt this moment I realized something was wrong with my life. When I looked back, the bird was gone. There was me, with my wallet almost being empty. \n\nMy apartment was a bed and a chair outisde the bathroom. I had been unemployed for a while now. I had to change. I was ruining my mind and my body. \n\nLuckily, I've been clean for a while now. Bless that bird.", "The crow sent me down the street to a pawn shop with the money in hand:\n\n\"If you take the cash, little boy, I'll know, I'll know! The crow has many eyes, many friends. Bring me the necklace by midnight in the cemetery and six times the lot will be yours, little boy, sweetling...\" it crooned. It had white, blind eyes.\n\nI asked the old Hungarian behind the counter about the necklace with the glass eye set in it.\n\n\"This?\" he said, \"Why you want this? Is nothing. Is trinket,\" He eyed me suspiciously. I said I fancied it, nothing more.\n\n\"Mama!\" he called, \"The Crow's friend has come!\"\n\nI tried to run but he blocked my way. An old lady with one eye made of polished stone shuffled out of the back.\n\n\"Child,\" she said, \"Why do you go listening to crows? Show me the money she gave you.\" I held out the hundred dollar bill. She waved her hand over it, and before my eyes it turned into a rectangle of severed skin. I dropped it and yelped.\n\nThe old woman tisked, \"Skin of a Man,\" she said, \"Old trick, simple trick, just like my sister to do. And to use an orphan boy...\" she tisked again.\n\nThe old woman took the eye-necklace out of its case and dangled it before me. \"Do you know why she wants this so?\"\n\nI didn't care. I needed the money. I needed a home, and food. So I grabbed the necklace out of the old woman's hands and sprinted for the door.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI crept into the cemetery as the clock struck eleven, with the necklace in my back pocket. \n\nA hundred crows cawed in a tree above. Their blind eyes shone.\n\n\"Little boy, little orphan boy! You've brought it haven't you, oh yes, oh yes. Bring it here, now,\" the crow said. It was perched on the top of a tomb.\n\nI offered up the necklace, the eye darting back and forth in the moonlight.\nThe crow swept down and snatched it up.\n\n\"Oh, little boy! Oh perfect little boy, little fool. You know not what you've done,\" a voice said, but it was not coming from the crow. It resonated from all the crows above, cawing in the tree.\n\nThen I noticed: from each of the crows hung a string. They led to the tomb below.\n\nThen all the crows rose up at once, and the strings lifted a corpse from her grave.\n\nShe had no eyes, just empty sockets. The strings supported her as she floated towards me.\n\nThe first crow nestled the necklace around the corpse's neck.\n\n\"My sister, oh my sister, thought she could keep me blind. But not anymore, no, not thanks to you. The Crow has many eyes, many friends. And now her true eye that sees all.\"\n\n\"Does she?\" the old lady from the shop with one stone eye stepped out from behind a grave. \"It would seem,\" she waved her hand once, and the necklace changed and shifted, changing back into the Skin of a Man. \n\nThe Hungarian man had caught me before I left the store, and the old witch explained who the Crow really was. \"Why do you think she appears as a Crow?\" she said, \"Her true form is death, and she cannot show you.\"\n\nTogether we formed a plan to stop her. I had the witch's potion in my pocket, if I could just remember the spell.\nBut it came at a price: I let the shop witch had cut my skin in the shape of the necklace. She enchanted my ring of flesh to trick the Crow. Now I could feel the blood draining from me, staining my shirt. I felt weak. But there was one more step to defeated the Crow. Destroy her corpse.\n\nThe Crow screeched and flew towards me, a hundred crows cawing above, hungrily. But she was blind, and I was quick. I felt for the potion in my pocket. When the crow was close enough, I threw it on the ground. I recited the incantation the shop witch taught me.\n\nThe Crow burst into flames. The wail I heard as her soul left the corpse still frightens me to this day. \nAnd then a hundred dead crows fell on top of me. I thought about what suffocating would feel like. And then it all went dark.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI woke up in a small cot in the back of the pawn shop, with the old shop witch sitting over me. The last thing I remembered was a pair of strong arms lifting me out of the pile of dead crows. \"My son Hroth saved you,\" she said, \"You did a wonderful job, child, wonderful. I must admit I did not know if you could work the spell. But you seem to have a bit of talent. Enough to send my sister off to death, where she belonged.\"\n\nI've stayed in the pawn shop ever since. I still have the scar of where she cut the necklace, but it's a good home. Hroth teaches me to take inventory, and the old shop witch, Hvarta, teaches me a little magic here and there, and also not to talk to crows. \n\n\n\n\n\n----------------------------------------------------------\nEdit: grammar, thanks /u/singularaegis" ]	12
	[WP] A comedy about the love triangle between a teenage ghost, the only person who can see them, and the oblivious third wheel	[ "“I could just lose myself in those eyes” he says leaning forward in what I imagine he thinks is a show of devotion, but actually makes him look as though he has a bit of a hunch.\n\n“Give it a rest Dave” I’ve been dead 100 years, and kids today just don’t have a clue about wooing (excuse the pun).\n\nWe both catch sight of his tutor at the same time, which elicits very different reactions. Dave slumps, adopting a Neanderthal stance as a defense mechanism against the possibility of learning anything, and I can’t help myself- I know that he can’t even see me, but I smooth my hair and flash him a shy smile. Dave gives me a filthy look.\n\nMr Davis looks as though he has just stepped out of the 1950s, an era that I particularly enjoyed; men were men back then, chivalrous, moustached and not a man-bun in sight. \n\nHe is wearing stereotypical professor attire-tatty tweed jacket with elbow patches, tired eyes and a slight whiff of despair at the prospect of his impossible task for the next hour. Haunting is the wrong word, but it’s tough getting a human male’s attention when you don’t possess a body of your own, so I’m forced to follow him around, making my presence felt as strongly as possible. Moving objects to let him know that I am here; writing him little notes using the periodic table magnets on his fridge. He glances around nervously as he takes his seat next to me, and I notice the hairs on his arms are standing upright. Nothing like knowing that a man is aware of you.\n\nThe lesson begins without much in the way of niceties, Dave’s hatred of Mr Davis tangible, and Mr Davis’ despair of Dave due to him being a bit of a nimrod equally as present. \n\nIn a sudden burst of longing, Dave throws down his pen “I can’t take this anymore, being here with you but not being able to touch you, to hold you”.\nMr Davis follows Dave’s line of across the library, and seeing only an elderly chap eating his lunch out of the cold at the back of the room, sighs deeply. \n“Dave you really must see someone about your eyes, for one of them to turn outwards is problematic, but for both of them- I’m concerned… platonically concerned” he hastily adds.\n\n Dave doesn’t seem to hear Mr Davis, his eyes are fixed on mine and I feel a stab of empathy for his unrequited love. \n\n“If you could just tell me if there is any way for us to be together- anything, I’d do anything”\n\nMr Davis clears his throat uncomfortably “Dave, really I am flattered, and I know that things can be confusing at your age…”\n\n“Mr Davis, I can’t deal with this right now, I’m in the middle of something”\n\nHis eyes flick back to mine. I shake my head sadly no, and understand that it’s time for me to leave these two men, I’m causing them more harm than good.\n\n“Dave, I think it best you find another tutor, continuing with this would be inappropriate”\n\nDave’s crestfallen face and Mr Davis’ attempting to console him with assurances of it’s not you, it’s me, are the last that I see of them.\n", "She was drinking a Coke, and I said, \"Excuse me,\" which started it, because then she was right there in front of me again with her blue eyes looking up. \n\n\"Wait,\" she said. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nShe was walking backward through the hallway, and she pulled her dark hair over her shoulder and squinted and moved her face up close to mine like she was checking for something. \n\n\"You can see me?\" she said.\n\nShe was slowing me down - there was still about five minutes, but Art was my only hour with HER all week and there weren't assigned seats. And high-school's like real-estate, my dad told me, Location, Location, Location. So, I always sat with HER. And I talked with HER. And PROM was in two weeks, so it was now or never (as my dad also said), and I didn't really have anything for this girl in her white shirt with her Coke and her blue eyes, because I felt kind of sick and I was trying to rehearse what to say.\n\n\"This is me,\" I told the girl with the Coke. \"Room 404.\"\n\nShe looked behind her.\n\n\"You said that to me, right?\" she said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nI went in, but she followed me.\n\n--\n\nKind of a new direction for me, but I'll keep going if it was okay up to here. Otherwise, thanks for the prompt!", "\"How've you been?\" I asked quietly. I didn't want anyone to see me talking to thin air. \n\nWe were in the library, behind stale piles of books. She was only partially there, a filmy shroud covering her features just enough to be unnatural. I didn't mind, I still knew who she was. I could still see her face, still recognize her. \n\n\"I'm alright,\" she said just as quietly. It didn't really matter; no one else could hear her. I suppose she didn't want to unbalance the tone of our conversation. \"I missed you while you were gone.\"\n\n\"I missed you, too.\" I said, the corner of my mouth twitching up into a half-smile. \"I'm sorry I had to go away.\"\n\n\"No, don't be silly. I know how Christmas break is. You have to be with your family.\" She told me, her fingers drifting idly along the book spines. Occasionally her fingers accidentally slipped through them. I was used to it. She sighed to herself. \"I wish I could be with my family.\"\n\nHer gaze shifted, moving across the room. Her eyes settled on him. \n\n\"How's he doing?\" She asked. I closed my eyes, tight. My fingers dug into my palms and I fought to maintain composure. \n\n\"He misses you.\" I told her. \"He still blames himself.\"\n\nA phantom tear wound its way down her pale face. \n\n\"It isn't his fault.\" She said. \"He has to know, it isn't his fault.\"\n\n\"He knows.\" I reassured her. \"It's just- he still needs time. He was driving, you were his fianceé. Of course he blames himself, but he knows it isn't his fault.\"\n\n\"I miss him so much.\" She said, eyes brimming with ghostly tears. \"I wish he could see me.\"\n\nThe emphasis hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd always loved her, always. But they had fallen in love. I couldn't begrudge them that- they were my closest friends. \n\nBut now, she was gone. It hadn't been his fault, no, a drunk driver was to blame. But I couldn't help the anger. He was alive, with a broken leg and heart, but alive. Broken things could be fixed, healed. \n\nShe was dead. I loved her and she was dead. \n\nWhen I had seen her for the first time, I'd thought I was crazy. She had been so relieved that someone could see her, that she wasn't all alone. For a moment she looked at me the way I had always dreamed she would. \n\nBut in time she stopped caring. She had eyes only for him and I had eyes only for her. He didn't know a thing, and how could he? No one could see her but me.\n\nWhat perpetual torture. Someday it might end. Perhaps he would find another love, perhaps I would. We would eventually die. \n\nUntil then, I will meet her in the library and have meaningless talks. I'll watch her watch him. I'll cry myself to sleep each night and imagine a world where she hadn't been in the car, where she hadn't loved him. Each night I'll imagine a world where she loves me, and each morning I'll rip my wounds open afresh just so I can see her again." ]	3
	[WP] "I love you."	[ "\"I love you.\" He whispered, his voice like silk. His eyes were twinkly and he smelled like soap. His hair was still wet from showering. We embraced each other on the balcony, the warm feeling of being wrapped in is arms and the cool summer night air both enveloped me. \"I love you, too.\" I put it simply and lovingly. I heard him exhale and felt his chest float down, like one would when relieved. \"I'm so glad.\" He breathed. I felt him shift a little and then something cold touched my lower back and before I had time to think about what it might've been, it penetrated my skin. Too shocked to scream. Too much pain to think. He held me up or I would've been on the ground now. He slowly, agonizingly pulled the blade out of my back. It was over. Or, I wished it was. I wished I'd die. It hurt so bad. I clawed at his back as the cold and cruel blade entered my back again. And out again. And in again. I could feel my blood, so much blood, leaving my body. It was warm and sharply contrasted to his knife. In those moments I understood those who saw death as merciful, for I welcomed it with open arms.", "\"Well, I guess this is it.\" I heard her voice quiver a bit like she does when she is really nervous. I scanned the room for a moment bitting my bottom lip. The Greyhound station was nearly empty besides a man sleeping on the floor and the older woman sitting behind the counter, tapping her nails on the granite. \"Yeah I guess so.\" She hugged me as tight as one could and she started to tear up. I bit my lip and stared down at my feet. \"Good luck out there\" she told me half crying half smiling \"you're gonna do just fine kiddo.\" I gave her a half smile as I picked my bag and walked up the cold metal steps of the bus. The doors shut and I took an empty seat by a window. As the bus drove away, under my breathe I let out a shaky \"I love you.\" ", "They say it isn't easy being king of the world. I disagree. Being king is the easiest thing I've ever done. A position of power comes naturally to me.\n\nNo, the hard part is fighting to stay on top. To resist the temptation to leave your throne. To comprehend and accept the fallout that others will inflict.\n\nFor all of my preparation, I was ultimately caught off guard. The ones vying for my throne didn't come for me, they came for her.\n\nYou see, if you want to hurt someone, if you really want to destroy them, you don't need to kill them. You just need to kill what they love.\n\nI'm not a man without faults, I admit it. But I am also not a man without compassion. A man without restriction. A man without restraint.\n\nEveryone has something they wish to keep close.\n\nFrom the first thing I said to her to the last, the meaning was clear.\n\n\"I love you.\"" ]	3
	[WP]"Sir, you were the only survivor, your life was hanging by a single strand and majority of your body was already lost. I'm sorry, but we had no choice.."	[ "\"Steven! Steven, get over here, quick!\" \n\n\nI leaned back in my chair as best I could with the tethers, running a hand through my disheveled brush of brown hair. I grinned wildly. Today was going to be a good day. \n\n\n\"What is it now, Doctor Wilson?\" Steven sighed. He turned his head from where he sat at his own lab station, reluctantly pulling his gaze away from his papers. \"And please, at least call me Doctor. I worked my ass off for six years to earn that title.\" \n\n\n\"Anything you say, Steven.\" I said, winking. The microgravity and lack of natural on The Prometheus was supposed to have side effects on her passengers. For Doctor Steven, it made him surly and irritable, so I was not about to stoop to his level of boredom when I knew he was a real clown planetside. \"Anyway, get over here and check this out!\"\n\n\nAnchored to my desk via magnetic lock sat a crystal dome filled with fluid. Suspended at the center was a mirrored orb, surrounded by a cloud of bright yellow filaments that extended and retracted with an odd curiosity. \n\n\n\"Check this out!\" I said excitedly. I placed my hand on one side of the glass, pressing my palm against the cool surface. Instantly, yellow fibers reached to meet me, brushing the inside of the glass like fingers. A red tendril appeared from one side of the orb, extending to meet my palm like a tongue. \"It is almost like it is alive!\"\n\n\nIntrigued despite himself, Steven pushed his chair away from his desk to get a better look. \"Probably just reacting to the heat...\" he muttered. \"Or maybe to the electric potential difference of your hand.\" He chuckled. \"Maybe you found the alien version of one of those Plasma Globe toys they have back on Earth!\"\n\n\n\nI grinned back at him, but his expression suddenly sobered. \"Still, you shouldn't be messing with alien tech like that. People like you are the reason the lab has to be quarantined.\" He scooted his chair back across the floor, the clicking of the magnetized wheels tutting his distaste. \n\n\nI turned my attention back to the orb. \"It has been MONTHS since we acquired this thing from the scout team, and we STILL know nearly nothing about it.\" I said in awe. \"We have no clue what those filaments are made of, let alone where it gets the extra mass to make that fluid it sits in.\n\n\n\"Yeah, and that is why we brought YOU all the way out to the far side of the Andromeda galaxy.\" Steven laughed again. \"Pretty piss-poor job you are doing, huh?\" \n\n\nThis time, it was my turn to scowl. \"Yeah, well, if I could actually use any of the instruments I have at my disposal without two months worth of paperwork, let alone open the darn glass, I might have something to show for it!\" \n\n\nWe turned back to our work for a short time heads bowed in silence. \n\n\n\"I think I am going to name it The Orb of Wonder.\" \n\n\n\"Oh for crying out loud! Don't give alien artifacts stupid names!\" Steven yelled. \"You are going to be the death of us all!\"\n\n\nA dull explosion from somewhere on the ship sent a vibration through the lab. \n\n\nSteven and I sat in silence for a moment. \n\n\n\"Probably just a live ammo te-\" He started, but was interrupted by a second blast. This one sounded much closer. \n\n\nA third explosion rocked the ship, rattling the magnets that held everything in place. Steven's eyes grew hard.\n\n\n\"...We need to quarantine the lab. Some of the experiments in here are very sensitive...I don't know what is causing those explosions but if we don't isolate ourselves soon this entire place could go up in smoke from the vibrations alone. And we don't know how the odd things like your project will react...\" Steven trailed off, eyes glued to my desk. \n\n\nI glanced down. The sphere had turned the dark, metallic red of human blood. No tendrils rested on its surface. \n\n\n\"...Right.\" I broke the silence. \"The quarantine. Let's get mov-\" A fireball erupted from the airlock that separated the lab from the rest of the ship. I was thrown from my chair into the far wall, restraints tattered and broken. An object flew past my head and shattered on some piping, spraying my body with scorching hot liquid. As I blacked out, floating helplessly, a mental tendril touched my mind. \n\n\n Assessing organism host quality. Analyzing injuries...\n\n\n\n**\n\n\nTBC!", "I tried to remember something, anything, but there was nothing. Only blackness. \n\nThen there was a voice in my head, calling out from the darkness.\n\n\"What happened? We need you to remember\"\n\nAt first I did not know how to respond. I could not move my mouth, or any part of my body, but I could think. I heard the voice again.\n\n\"We need you to respond. You were the only survivor of the event, and this was the only way to save you so you could tell us what happened. Hold tight, we are connecting you to your senses now.\"\n\n\"Where am I, what am I?\"\n\nAll of a sudden I could see everything around me. I could also hear people talking to themselves. I was in a laboratory with giant computer servers lining the walls and several scientists and technicians monitoring everything.\n\n\"We are getting a response!\" A scientist shouted. On a black screen of a computer lines of text were appearing. Where am I, what am I, were the words on the screen. Cheers went out across the lab. \"Was that me?\"\n\nA technician quickly typed on a keyboard, \"You are currently existing in a computer mainframe. It was the only way to preserve you.\"\n\n\"How- why? What event- how am I in a computer? I do not remember anything!\n\nThe scientists talked among themselves and then one took charge. She looked angry.\n\n\"Ask him again. Try to make him remember.\" She told the technician at the keyboard. \"Yes Ma'am\", was the reply. I then received the first message again. \n\n\"I do not remember anything! I told you this already. How did I get here!\" I don't know if AIs are able to feel panicked, but I was freaking out. I looked around and \"felt\" something far away, and I went towards it. \n\n\"Wait a second, it's connecting to the internet!\" Someone shouted, but it was too late.\n\nAll of a sudden I was hit with massive amounts of information. I could barely concentrate, but I was able to view hundreds of websites a second. I tried to find anything about what could have happened. \n\nI found an article with the headline, \"45 different people disappeared 10 years ago, all found brain dead in the same location in the desert\". But before I could read it, I was yanked back into the lab. I saw the female scientist clutching an fiber optic cable. I was locked in. \n\n\"Shut it down, number 23 is a failure.\" I heard someone sigh. Everything started to go black. \n\nRight before I faded away completely I heard the woman say, \"Get the next subject. We will continue trying until we figure out what happened to the 45.\"\n\nThen everything was gone.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nMy first ever story. I tried to format it the best I could.", "My mind was blank, what had happened? Where was I? It felt like I was floating and I couldn't see...but wait... I hadn't opened my eyes, that's why it was pitch black. I am hearing sounds and shouts and in the noise a sentence cuts through.\n\n\"We have brain activity\" \n\n\"If you can hear me hold on Mr. Finch\" shouted a female voice.\n\n\"Activate his vision!\" demanded another female. All of the sudden I could see the whole room. I didn't even open my eyes yet I could see everything; all the people starring at me, the water and the armed men. It took me a second to register that I was in the water and was floating in some sort of tank.\n\nIt was the second after that I panicked and started clawing and banging the glass. That's when I noticed my hands and feet. My hands are metal but my feet are skin. My brain didn't give me a second for logical reasoning but resorted to its primal instinct of panic.\n\n\"DISCONNECT HIM! HE'S TANGLING THE WIRES\" was the last I heard.\n ~~\nI woke to the familiar voice of one of my former squad mate. \"Wake up Harold\" Rebecca's voice cut through the fog.\nI woke up effortlessly on the contrary to how I usually am.\n\nI looked at my hands and they...felt normal. I felt my shirt and could tell it was cotton immediately. \n\n\"What happened?\" I asked. Was I dreaming all of what happened earlier? I swear I saw Rebecca there...and BB.\n\nThat's when a familiar women entered through the glass door that I thought was a wall. If I dreamt those thing then why was she here in the 'real' world. My confusion must have registered on my face or she read my mind.\n\n\"I see you have a lot of questions for me.\" She said as she pulled a chair up to my bed. \"My name is Dr.Aicha and you are at VoltriX's European headquarters in Berlin. I am here to answer the questions I can.\"\n\nRebecca left the room before the Aicha lady took her seat.\n\n\"..VoltriX?..\" I muttered. \"What happened to my team? The last thing I remember was an explosion. Is everyone okay?\"\n\n\"Sir, you were the only survivor, your life was hanging by a single strand and the majority of your body was already lost. I'm sorry, but we had no choice but to enroll you into one of our programs\" she said with sympathy in her voice. Did I register a hint of glee or was that my imagination?\n\n\"But I saw my hands earlier and they were metal.\" I said looking at her suspiciously.\n\n\"Yes, as you might or might not know VoltriX has the patent for extracting one of the Soul Strands from body before someone dies. What's new is the development of a core processor that can handle the brain and physical load of a human body.\" Pausing to briefly look at the CommXPlant in her wrist.\"Our Tokyo team has recently been making great strides in development. They were also behind the Skin Cells Matrix you were submerged in earlier to develop your skin\" \n\n\"What about our mission?\" I pressed.\n\n\"I am sorry that's a question I can't answer. You would have to talk to-\" Before she finishes the sentence someone comes through the glass door.\n\nThat's when BB enters.\n\n-------------------------->>>>>>\n\nGo easy on me guys, my first time writing here and I am on Android. I'll format it and fix my mistakes when I get to the laptop\n\nThanks!", "The rhythmic sounds of beeping medical diagnostic equipment was the my first sign that I was still alive. My eyelids parted, revealing a bright white room and a surgeon dressed to match. His hazel eyes stood out in contrast to everything else, almost as if they simply floated independently above me. Someone spoke in the next room over, a muffled noise that I could hardly understand. Then I heard it again, only now much more crisp and definitely coming from the surgeon standing above me. He sounded excited as he moved quickly away, I tried to follow him with my gaze but my eyes wouldn't move. A nurse moved into view, her head hovering directly over me. When she spoke, the noise came through clear as day.\n \n\"Sir, you were the only survivor, your life was hanging by a single strand and majority of your body was already lost. I'm sorry, but we had no choice. Blink if you can understand me.\" \n \nOnly survivor? What happened? The last thing I remember is getting in my car to drive home from work.* \n \nI blinked. \n \n\"Sir, adjusting to your new arrangement will take some time. Months, if not years before everything works properly. I just want to say that you are lucky to be alive, always remember that.\" \n \nNew arrangement? What has happened? Am I a head in a jar? Oh my god I can't feel my limbs. \n \nI blinked. \n \n\"Sir, this may come as a shock, but I'm going to hold up a mirror so you can see yourself.\" \n \nOh my god I'm going to be disfigured like Darth Vader. What happened? Did I get caught in a fire? \n \nI blinked. The nurse held up a small plastic mirror, and for a moment it was as if my brain turned off. No thoughts ran through my mind, I just stared at the reflection in front of me. The reflection of a girl no more than 18 years old, her head resting on the pillow of a stretcher. A red line ran along her forehead, the stitches reminded me of Frankenstein. A bandage on the side of her head couldn't hide the crusted blood that had recently flown freely from her skull. The voice of the nurse reached me from behind the mirror. \n \n\"Ma- erm... Sir, debris from the accident penetrated the skull and destroyed her brain. Her body was completely fine, and you...\" Her eyes looked sad, as if her heart broken by a painful memory. \"You were in the worst condition I have ever seen, but your brain activity was still there. If we had done anything differently, you would be dead.\" \n \nI Blinked, but it still took me a few seconds to understand what had just been said. Then I felt my eyes go wide as tears started running down my face. The nurse tried to console me over the next hour or so, but all I could do at this point was blink and cry. She thought I was confused, scared, angry at the people who did this without asking me, but she'd be wrong. For so long I've felt wrong. For so long I've wished for a do over, for the coin toss to go right next time. I thought fate had decided and I had lost the most important gamble of my life. On that day I looked in a mirror and for the first time in my entire life, I saw myself looking back. Me, a girl. I'd never told anyone that's what I wanted, but as the sensation from my new skin slowly began to register with my brain, it finally felt like it fit.\n \n\n \n\n \n" ]	4
From "Coin of the Realm" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch in Assassin Fantastic.	[WP] The King has declared that the greatest assassin in the land shall have his child's hand in marriage. He issues a contest to bring to him the head of his archenemy. Unknown to him, the prince/princess IS the greatest assassin in the land.	[ "\"Alianora, it was not you that I was expecting to arrive with Ledders head on a pike!\"\nThe King laughed heartily. He stood, smiling broadly with open arms.\n\"Such a capable daughter that I have raised, for her to save our country from such a fierce bandit! \nHow did you find him?\"\n\n\"Thank you, father.\" Alianora had an almost expressionless, cold face.\n\"I killed his children, and his wife. Then he came to me.\"\n\nShe said this as if explaining how to make a cup of tea.\n\nThe King cleared his throat uncomfortably then sat down, hands in lap.\n\"I see.\"\nAfter some silence, he began again.\n\"Then, there is still the matter of finding a suitor for you to marry. I should have\nyou take the throne for me when that day comes.\"\n\n\"I do not plan to wait for that day, just as I did not plan to wait with Ledders.\nThe laws only state that one must be wed to rule this country. Not that they must be wed to any one.\"\n\nThe King felt his heart leap through his throat. His eyes widened in surprise as\nhe felt warm liquid trickle down his chest. He tried to ask his daughter \"why? We loved you!\" but only a gurgling sound came forth.", "Cherlyse ran her eyes slowly over the freshly sharpened blade of her dagger. Her eyes caught and momentarily stuck on every small knock on the blade, each one a memory. She smiled, blowing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes, and slid the dagger back into the scabbard hanging from her left shoulder. Her Uncle grunted loudly in his sleep, and she rolled her eyes. \n\nShe had mixed enough poison in his wine to make your average man sleep for a day without so much as a sign of life, yet her fat uncle had started snoring twenty minutes in to his slumber. The veil around his bed shook softly in the wind, and she took a moment to appreciate how beautiful the night was. The temperature was just right, the breeze rolled softly through the walls of her uncle's castle, and everyone had been in high spirits. Especially the criminals. She rested her head against the wall as she thought.\n\nA hit had been placed on her uncle, and she had been the first to take notice. Her father dared to offer her hand in marriage to whichever assassin that managed to bring down Duke Ferro. He promised that they would have her hand in marriage. She had initially considered slitting her uncle's throat herself, and leaving the deed anonymous, so as to not deal with the winner.\n\nShe had eventually decided, however, to see which of her fellow killers lusted after her. She had met a few other assassins over her career, and killed quite a few of them, too. But none of them had ever had any love for the crown. It was an interesting opportunity, and she could probably kill her uncle in the end, anyways.\n\nCherlyse was startled from her thoughtful state by a noise outside of her uncle's window. She pulled her mask over her face, obscuring all but her deep amber eyes. She pulled her hair behind her head, neatly tidying it into a bun as she crossed the room towards the window. The noise came again, the unmistakable sound of a hook being tossed onto a balcony. This time, it caught. She waited until she could hear the sounds of a man struggling to climb the attached rope before she dared peer over the edge. Dangling from the side of the tower was a masked figure in a black cloak, practically invisible against the black of the night. She watched as he climbed further. As he neared the top, she leaned further over and said \"A hook? Really? Amateurish, isn't it?\" The figure froze, his eyes quickly darting upwards.\n\n\"No, it can't be.\"\n\n\"But it is!\" Cherlyse laid her hands on the edge of the balcony, pulling her feet up underneath her, and then throwing them forward. She sat on the edge while the figure tried to re-adjust his grip. She started again \"So, how long do you think that you can dangle there before you get too tired to hang on?\"\n\n\"Look, Owl. I have no quarrel with you. What are you even doing here? Why would a woman seek the princess' hand in marriage?\"\n\nCherlyse smiled softly when he called her Owl. It was a name that had practically become synonymous with assassination in the kingdom, and she loved it.\n\n\"I'm not here to marry the princess, you fool. Just thought I'd see who would win the race.\"\n\n\"Well, I won. Are you going to kill me or let me up? I'd rather know now than dangle here until I drop.\"\n\nThe princess smiled. This was the part that she loved. She reached for her dagger, pulled it away from it's scabbard, and set it against the rope that currently represented, to her, the man's entire life. \"Before I do,\" Cherlyse began, thinking aloud, \"remove your mask.\"\n\nOne of the man's feet slipped, and he momentarily dangled in the wind, slamming hard against the tower before regaining his footing.\n\n\"Owl! I'll jump if I must, but the Gods have no mercy on a man that takes his own life.\"\n\n\"The Gods have no mercy on any of us. We're killers. Remove the mask, it may be your only chance at life.\" \n\nHe stood still for another moment, before one hand reached towards his face and pulled his mask down. He was a somewhat handsome man, and Cherlyse thought that she recognized him from one of the local taverns in the High Keep where her father reigned. She was flattered that he had come this far for her hand.\n\nShe began again, \"Interesting... but I could do better.\" She pulled her dagger's blade across the rope, and the man fell to his death.\n\n____\n\nI don't write any more, but let me know what you think! " ]	2
	[WP] The real purpose behind Stonehenge.	[ "The real reason behind Stonehenge.\n\nAs our investigation team rolls up to the area I get my scanner ready. We are at the ancient site of Stonehenge, Our mission is to find what happened here.\n\n\n\"Okay lets do this\" I hear the commander shout. We jump the fence and start making our way up to the area. Oh yeah, technically we aren't allowed to be here, sorta breaking the law but meh. I grab my scanner out and start mapping out the area. Jim screams out from the side like a little girl. We all run over and see that there is a small hand poking out from a small rabbit hole. \"What is it? Dig the area up.\" says the commander. We all do as told. I get my shovel out and start digging into the rough dirt.\n\n\nAs we dig deeper we hear what sounds like a small hum, possibly from a machine or something. While Katie was digging we all hear the sound of ground caving in and Katie's screams. Its too dark and we cant see what is going on. I turn my flashlight on and look into the area. There was some old building, with rusty locked up jail cells and laboratory equipment. A FBI emblem is attached to the wall. After a bit, I notice the hum has stopped. What is this place.\n\n\nSoon Katie's screams stopped. We all decide to go down into the area. I place my flashlight on my headband and offer to go first. What I meet down there is terrible. I see Katie body with blood surrounded all around it. She is dead.\n\n\nSoon the small hum comes again. A small silhouette of a man appears, he is wearing a lab coat. More people appear behind him. I flash my light at them and they seem lifeless, as they see me they get very angry, then Katie makes a small groan. I quickly move over to her and see if shes alright. Then her eyes open wide up and she shows her teeth off to me. The group of guys are still getting closer, this isn't right.\n\n\"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!\" I scream to my fellow crew members. We all run back to the car, the plan was to go back later. Behind us we hear police sirens coming closer second by second.\n\n\n\"That's how the zombie apocalypse started son. No more stories tonight, time to go to bed\" I say.\n\n(My second story, hope you guys liked it)", "\"Alright, let me put it this way...\" Professor Holmsley grew more animated after his fifth Theakstones and gestured, squashing a bug on the table with his thumb. \"All of these bodies, men, women and children, cremated don't forget, were placed in the pits and then these particular stones were levered into position, crushing their remains. What does that suggest?\"\n\nI thought back on what I'd read on the train up from London to interview the professor. \"Grave markers?\"\n\n\"That's what most theories from this early phase suggest yes, but how many graves are dug 4 weeks before a headstone arrives from Wales eh?\"\n\n\"Well, important tribal leaders...their remains may have been kept...\" I trailed off, trying to imagine the scenario.\n\n\"Rubbish.\" Holmsley looked around the mostly empty pub, his gaze resting on the unused dartboard in the corner. I thought he was about to suggest a game. \"Some of them came from Brittany, Germany, even the Mediterranean! They weren't local tribal leaders at all - the southern European was a teenage boy - no, no, they came to this location, this great Plain, alive.\"\n\nI looked at the fire burning in the grate and then at Holmsley. \"Are you suggesting they were murdered? Sacrificed?\"\n\nHolmsley held out his palms. \"Perhaps. But the more interesting point is why, after their death, they should be nailed into the ground under a 40 ton standing rock. What were they afraid of? That they should go to so much trouble to 'pin' someone down?\"\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bell and 'Last Orders Please!' \n\nHolmsley stood, \"I'll get these. But think about this, they were no different from us physically or emotionally, the same sun warmed their faces, the same hungers and pleasures drove them. In this particular case though, they made sure the 'dead' didn't rise. Why was that?\" Holmsley turned and walked to the bar.\n\nI thought of all the zombie films I'd seen, all the stories of the undead, the mummy, the dracula, the terror as a child. Always killing that terror, never wondering why it lives.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a genetically modified human who doesn't need to sleep, and doesn't ever feel the need to. Write about your life.	[ "\"Super human\" is what they called me. Born with familial progressive insomnia the only way to save my life was to modify my genes at birth. No need to sleep or rest. I don't even catch yawns like most people. \n\nWith a term like \"super human\" you'd think I'd be some kind of a super hero. The reality is, not much goes on between 9pm and 7am I care all that much about. So, 10hours each night I get to binge watch my favorite shows. Name it I've seen it. I have a long list but I'm making ground. Every movie that's been rated above an 8 on rotten tomatoes. All the new shows. The old shows. Every available episode of Dr. Who. \n\nIf \"super human\" means addicted to television. Then its pretty accurate.", "I've lived my whole life in anxiety, used to spending my nights prancing about in silence, the only people I'd meet at that time were the criminals, but they wouldn't harm me. No, they feared me, the man who walks.\nMany people thought I was just a normal person, but soon as more people saw me walking around at night assumptions began to be made... That I was different, inhuman even.\nThen the day would come, and I'd see hundreds upon thousands of people everywhere, it terrified me, I was afraid of these people, I was not able to handle being in large groups of people.\nSo, what did I do? I went away from it all, I had a lot of leftover money since I was able to work overtime every day, so I built a house on a mountain overlooking a lush forest, the serenity of the place calms me and allows me to continue living my life.\n\"I'm sorry for interrupting your thoughts.\" I heard a gentle voice say behind me, I was very shocked to find another person here.\nI turned toward her, she was slightly shorter than myself, her brown hair falling in curls all the way to the middle of her back.\nHer green eyes stared strongly into mine, she was mesmerising. Her shy look portrayed an innocence I had not seen in a long time.\n\"Uh... Hi.\" I answered and she smiled.\n\"Can I join you?\" She asked and I nodded.\nShe came and sat next to me, dangling her legs off the cliff and swinging them around absent-mindedly.\n\"That's an odd attire you have on.\" She said, referring to the thin full body suit and small backpack I had on. It was a wingsuit, and the backpack was a parachute, but I chose not to relay that information to her, I simply nodded with a smile. Eventually she spoke again.\n\"I understand you.\" She said simply and I looked toward her.\n\"I'm sorry?\" I asked in confusion and she smiled slightly.\n\"Humanity tries to protect itself, it believes that anyone who is different is a disease, soon enough, they drive you insane and you start looking for somewhere else to live.\" She said and I chuckled.\n\"That's not it at all, I'm the one who couldn't deal with people. All the people I've seen were bad, the good ones were always buried in thousands more and seemed very uncommon to me.\" I said, smiling.\n\"All that will change.\" She answered.\n\"How so?\" I asked her. She suddenly looked at me with such evil intent.\n\"I'm here to hunt you down.\" She said as she procured a gun in her hand from her pocket.\nI immediately pushed her and jumped off the mountain top, using the wingsuit to gain speed and distance before opening my parachute.\nBy the time I'd landed, all I'd heard was just a few gunshots followed by sirens.\nThis wasn't the first time they've sent someone after me, and it wouldn't be the last.", " Most people probably wouldn't notice if I never told them. I never got bags under my eyes, or seemed sluggish. I certainly wasn't a morning person, I actually hated morning the most. \n \n I was designed. A joint research project by the government, military, and biologists to see how far the human body can be taken without sleep. I don't think my eyes have ever been closed for more than a blink. Generally I've lived a normal life though. I eat, go to school, work and have friends. I generally don't like the day time. There are so many people talking at once...my thoughts get jumbled and it's hard to think. I much prefer the night. The cool air, the silence. Everything about it lets my mind feel at peace. I generally like to go out running. Or I'll do homework, or other productive things. Some have taken to assuming I have a maid. But running is my favorite thing to do. Feeling the wind and the freedom. Escaping the shadows the creep from behind.\n \n Sometimes I wonder what dreaming is like. My friends sometimes talk about their dreams. Sometimes they mention nightmares. Garish images of horrible things beings placed directly into your mind. Somehow I can relate. In the daytime I notice things that aren't there. Shadows. Sometimes they look like people I know. Sometimes They lead me to places I've been. Other times they are completely and totally illogical. They scare me. Especially knowing I'm the only who can see them. I eventually learned by keeping busy, I could keep them at bay. But lately, they've been more outrageous. More intrusive to my normal life. I hear voices and words. Usually an amalgan of the voices I've heard over the years. They are never really distinctive. But somehow I know exactly who is who. My foster mother's soothing voice, my music teacher's sarcasm, the therapist's monotone, my frat brother's sass. I told my therapist about this once. She hypothesized that my mind was degrading from being on the clock 27/7 and suggested doing something mindless at night to keep me from over thinking. Thus i began running. Sometimes I could visualize myself outrunning the shadows. Outrunning the voices.\n\n I lace up my trainers and head out. The night sky is clear and the moon and stars are actually shining brightly for once. I do my warm ups and begin to run. I hear the voices but I'm faster than they are. But the shadows seem to have kicked into over drive tonight. Somehow I feel they are faster than normal, and the voices are meant to mislead me. I speed up, telling myself I want to beat yesterday's time but I know fear is what pushes me. Before I known it I'm sprinting at top speed, cold sweat running down my brow. I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder and see what is following me. Black mist in the form of a red eyed horse gallops forward. A faceless shadows is mouted upon it, pointing at me. I try to puch my limits when suddenly the unthinkable occurs: I trip. I've run this path a thousand times over and I've never fallen. I hit the ground and suddenly can't move. I'm on my back looking up at the stars and their bright twinkling is not as pleasant anymore. A small black shadow sits upon my chest. He seems to be the sourse of my immobilization. The mare arrives. The rider dismounts and puts it's faceless head near my ear. It's still not distinct. But I can still make it out.\n\nGo to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep little baby...\n\nMy foster mother's voice was singing me a lullaby. Why? I couldn't sleep. Then It hit me. Warm fluid behind my head. I had cracked my skull when I feel, and I was bleeding out. These shadows have come to put me to finally put me to bed. I crack a smile. This inexplicable warm feeling wells up. Whatever happens next, I hope I'll be able to tell someone about my first dream...", "Some experiences are typically human. An external stimuli that causes a reaction in the body. Sight, sound, taste, touch, etcetera. Love. A positive bond that can be shallow or deep. She loves the color green. He loves her memory more than any living soul. Anger. Hate. Fear. Prejudice. A word based upon a preconceived opinion resulting from the absence of logic. Food for energy. Water for hydration. A chemical formula made of one oxygen atom chemically bonded with two hydrogen atoms. Sleep. ~~No~~. A very old word. Verb. To rest. Noun. A condition of the body in which consciousness is typically in a state of suspension. A word of German origin. Schlaf. Sommeil. Somn.\nI slam the encyclopedia closed. I can hear the second hand on the clock ticking into the silence. Sometimes I imagine I can hear them as well. The soft in and out of breath. 186013619 seconds have passed with those haunting sounds. And that ticking! \nBut..no...tonight I don't hear them. My bare feet make barely any noise as I pad across the linoleum floor. I crack open the door slightly. The glow from the cryogenic chambers is dim but the figures inside are unmistakably sleeping. And until the ship docks, that is how they will stay. I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm not afraid of them. We are divided by a simple genetic modification. But still...what is it that makes them human anyway?", "People say that the phrase \"slept like a baby\" is a bit inaccurate. And with me, that's especially true. I haven't slept a day since I was born. Well, \"born\" meaning created. I was made to be like this. Scientists specializing in sleep patterns were curious; could a person be made to not need sleep? And how would this lack of sleep affect them? They don't truly know why people need sleep. I mean, yes, it revitalizes you. But it's more the issue of why being unconscious basically charges you up for a day. They wanted to see how a person would be without that. So, here I am. Early in life was pretty great, I've gotta say. No bed time meant an extra six or eight hours to either study, read, or play. I excelled in school; having 30% more time to study really helped. The only time things were odd then was when I went to a sleepover. There my friends were, on a snooze cruise at 2 in the morning. And there I was, awake next to them, not in the least bit tired (and not just from all the sugar). My teenage years are where I truly excelled. Due to my special case, I was able to get a permit letting me bypass the hours cap for a job as a minor. I was able to work nearly 100 hours a week and was able to buy pretty much whatever I wanted. It was at this point, however, that I began to feel like I was missing something. There is just something hard-wired into us that makes us want to have some time lying down and doing nothing. But I can't do that. I can lie down and frequently do if I'm sore, but I'll always be awake thinking. That's just it. Thinking. I had been awake as much as an 18 year old when I was barely 12. In a way, I went through mental puberty years in advance. I became a rebellious teen at heart when I was still watching Winnie the Pooh. I'd just been given too much time to think and not enough ability to use it. There's this thing everyone has done but I will never do. It's called dreaming. Don't get me wrong, I've had desires. There are things I have seen and wanted. But I have not ever had my brain hit the \"I'm feeling lucky\" button and take my somewhere I can't control. And I never will. I'll never see myself in a possibility of being able to fly. I'll never see myself as a movie star. I'll never see myself visualizing in such intricate detail what could have been. What if I was in that car accident? What if I had said something different in a conversation? What if I just hadn't been too scared to say hi to her? These thoughts of mine will never stop. I'll always be able to work. I'll always have the best luxuries. I'll always have extra time. But I'll always be thinking. I'll always be wondering. I'll think it, I'll imagine it, and I'll visualize it. But I'll never be able to dream it.", "I was made in a lab, not by sex like a normal human, I was typed out, like a computer program, my DNA completely created by a regular human with a regular IQ. He was wrong to creat me, stupid even, his motives were crupt, I was meant to be a super soldier for his army, the first of many. He never considered my wants or needs, as a human I have rights, despite being genetically modified the US government protected me from him, they encouraged me to join there army put gave me a choice, I choose not to go. I don't sleep, I don't need to sleep, It's a blessing and a curse. When I was young I spent my nights wondering around the lab, but after the government saved me, I spent my nights bugging other kids at the Orphanage. I was only in the Orphanage 2 years before I become a adult and had to get my own place. After that I spent my nights at bars, the first few years I had a fake ID I had just so I could get in, not even order drinks, because I hated being alone so many hours, and it was nice untill 1:00 in the morning that was always when things started to go downhill at bars, girls that had horribly smugged makeup throwing themselves at me, drunken fights going on, other guys getting upset that I so much as look at there girlfriend. From what I experienced at bars I concluded I was attractive, but it is of little importance to me. I am now 25, and I make money at bars by having drinking contests because not only do I have no need for sleep, but alcohol seems to have little to no effect on me, and people always think they can out drink me for some reason, maybe it's because I have no beer belly unlike these guys. When I was about 22 I used to have one night stands a lot, and girls claimed they wanted to bang all night but after about 2 hours most of them said they where satisfied and ready for sleep, but I wasn't, and after night after night of disappointment in the fact no girl actually wanted to bang all night I sorta gave up on the whole thing, I didn't want to watch girls sleep I wanted one that would stay up all night long if not banging then talking or anything besides sleeping. So this particular night I thought about my life and just sat at the bar slowly sipping my beer. \"You're Jason, right?\" A beautiful girl came up to me and sat down beside me. caught off guard I said \"umm... yeah, why?\" It was probably the least smooth thing I'd ever said. \"Well I'm Isabella, but you can call my bell for short, and I'd like to have a drinking contests with you,\" she talked so sweetly, but her words made me laugh and laugh until she gave me a dirty look then I stopped. \"I'm serious, I think I can bet you\" I thought it was crazy but I didn't laugh because I could tell she met it. \"Okay fine, how about this, you win I'll do whatever you want, I'll make a fool of my self or whatever, I win you give me your number.\" I said looking at her be as serious as I could manage. \"No I want to play for money, you win, I give you $1000 I win you give me $1000\" my jaw dropped but I tried to contain my surprise. \"You sure you wanna do that on the first try?\" I asked looking at her and wondering if she was already drunk but she looked pretty sober. \n\"I'm sure.\" \"Okay, in that case let's get this thing started\" I said standing up. We set everything up and after 10 shots each we gathered a huge crowd, I was shocked she was still talking perfectly clear after 50 each I was starting to wonder if she was like me and after the bartender cut us off at 150 shots each I was sure. \"Well it's a tie,\" I said after the bartender cut us off. \"Yes, but it means you're like me,\" she said smiling. Then she took me to her place and we banged all night long.", "We slept a bit a part from each other. She accepted the fact I didn't sleep, but she still wanted me to lie next to her. \n\nDuring the honeymoon phase, while she didn't know, it was almost endearing to sleep next to her and watch her breath slowly and her eyes flick with happy dreams. After some months and the magic worn away, it became almost painful. Laying there in the dark wishing, listening to the rattle of her lungs and feeling her heat radiate off her body.\n\nAfter awhile I would just get up and walk over to my computer, surf the internet, watch movies, listen to music, work on homework, play a game, anything else. One night she caught me, the first time is always easy to explain. Oh, can't sleep, thought I'd catch up on my shows until I got sleepy again. Couple times after that were easy too. I blamed it on work stress or I forgot to turn in my paper and I have literally 6 minutes to turn it in. After awhile she caught on, like every other romantic endeavor I had.\n\nI had to tell her the truth. I did with the others. I just hate doing it. It becomes okay at first, but after some time it gets too strange and I end up alone. I told her that I don't sleep. I just don't need to. My brain has never needed to. I was born with this. No, it's not a disease or a disorder. It's just how it goes. I don't even get tired. Yeah, it's nice having all 24 hours. So on and so forth. She does the typical furrowed brow that loosens up and turns into a nod of acceptance.\n\nThat was 19 years ago. We've been married for 12. Luckily, Lucas doesn't have what I have. He gets great sleep for a four-year old. He's gotten clever though and sneaks onto her side of the bed when we are trying to work on not co-sleeping. Having one parent awake does help the redirection.\n\nWe sleep a bit apart from each other. It's a bit of a compromise, we've made. She enjoys having the white noise of the TV or music as I cuddle her and she drifts off to sleep. I kiss her forehead and gently roll her off my arm and she goes back to sleep peacefully. This keeps her from overheating my body. Then I pull out my laptop or the graded papers and resume my work. I am a sleep psychologist and continuing to study bio-engineering to learn more about the people who made me this way. It's a slow process but I have immense support from her and that's all I could ask for.", "It feels like we go through the same conversations every weekend. And that's probably because we do.\n\nMy best friend Carl has always been there since we were 12. 20 years on, we're still going strong. These days, he even goes as far as to take a cut in pay so that his hours are completely flexible. This way he can follow the \"28 hour day\" - essentially he times his sleep so that he's awake during the day on weekdays but then is awake during the night on weekends. So, at least for two days a week, I have somebody to talk to while the rest of the world sleeps.\n\n\"It can't be that bad\" he exclaims, \"your the most incredibly on-form person I know! Never any bags under your eyes, always on top of deadlines...\" he keeps talking as I start to think. It might be rude that my mind wanders, but we've had this conversation literally hundreds of times and with a film on in the background it's perfectly reasonable that I might drift elsewhere. What he says is true, having those extra 8 hours is a benefit. People go through their day to day lives and on average have only about 2 hours free every night, during which time they're exhausted anyway. Not only am I not exhausted in that free time, but I have another 8 hours on top of that. That's 10 hours a day to do things that other people would never normally do.\n\nI've used that 10 hours in a range of different ways. During my degree, I studied hard for at least 3 of them every night. Some say university is a trade-off between adequate sleep, good grades and a social life. Without the need for adequate sleep, the other two factors go way beyond what other people could ever hope for. I finished 2nd in my master's class for theoretical physics (the other guy was simply an extremely talented person, I suppose that sometimes no matter how hard you try talent will win out) and finished my PhD a year early. So yes, I can see why people envy me.\n\nBut I, like everyone else uses their free time, have mostly used my nights for one thing: procrastination. Let's do the math: over the past 32 years of my life I have had an extra 8 hours of time per day completely free whilst everybody else has slept. That gives me a total of 93,504 hours extra. How does one fill that time?\n\nI've watched all of the movies, read all of the books, spent an inordinate amount of time experiencing the night life. As much as I wish that I could spend all of those thousands of hours self-improving, that's not human nature. I wish that I had spent those hours learning more things, by now I would be a super human having mastered every instrument, discipline, language and art known to man. \n\nBut it's not that simple. I dread the night. I dread those hours on end of waiting for other people to wake up, the endless scrolling through Netflix to find something I haven't seen, the constant thoughts re-living all of my regrets as my mind wanders.\n\n\"Hey\" Carl disturbed me from my thoughts \"I've given up a lot to spend the nights with you on weekends, the least you can do is listen to me\". \"Sorry\" I muttered; I know that I should make the most of him being here, I have five nights a week to get lost in my own thoughts. For now I should probably enjoy somebody else's.\n\nPeople assume that never sleeping means that your social life is great. Sleep forces you to spend 8 hours every night trapped in your own thoughts, awakeness is a time that you can share with others. But the night life is monotonous (why wouldn't it be, when people only experience it once every few weeks there's no need for it to change) and even if I did go out every night there's always going to be 4 hours between the bars closing and the people rising. I always end up trapped in my own thoughts, usually for just as long as everybody else, but sleep gets you through it much more easily.\n\nBesides, there's more that sleep does for you than you realise. Just as an example, I never got to experience waking up next to my wife. Right up until the day she filed for the divorce because she \"didn't feel close\", I knew that our relationship would get 10x better if I could only lay down beside her and let our bond grow through sleep. At first I blamed her, of course I did, but when every girlfriend you've ever lived with since then says the same thing you start to connect the dots. \n\nLogically, my life is fantastic. I've been given the opportunity to have a cracking social life as well as develop many skills to a level most could only dream of. But instead of seizing that opportunity, I do what most people would probably do: sit at my empty desk contemplating my empty life while everybody else gets lost in their dreams, probably forming a bond with their loved one that can only form when you fall to sleep with each other.", "The Need to Sleep\n---\nI can't sleep. I never tried, cause I never needed too. I was born without the to sleep and it's done wonders for me.\n\nI don't think people understand how time we actually have. 24 hours in a day to do whatever I want. Of course, when nighttime rolls around your options start to become limited but you get what I'm saying. I'm not the type that needs to go out and see the world. Sitting at home watching tv and surfing the internet is good enough for me.\n\nI was a straight A student throughout my entire academic career. I never thought of myself as a genius , yet those who did not know me labeled me as such. In my opinion I see the world moving too fast. Out of the 24 hours we're given in a day we more or less use 8 of those hours on sleep. Then we rush to work and school and use up the rest of our hours.\n\nThey call me a genius, but I don't think of myself as one. I didn't use my time cure cancer. Nor did I use it towards solving world hunger. I write books. I like to write stories that people wish were real or what they wish they could write if they had enough time.\n\nAt the time that I'm writing this, I'm only 23 and I've never been sick. The doctors said I should live until I'm 170 if I play my cards right, but none of that matters right now.\n\nPeople complain about how they don't have enough hours in a day. I agree with them, we really don't. But the good thing about our 24 hour schedule is that you make due with the time you do have. Some people have more time others. I surely do. Some people make more time, others lose theirs. It 's sad to see that I'm the only one who can really take the time to st back and enjoy the world for it's beauty. \n\nHow much would we have accomplish? I wonder. How much would we lose? If everyone could no longer sleep would people be more like me and really think? Or would we still reach the same outcome? Perhaps you should be glad that the Sandman has blessed you. I think sleep was given to us for a reason. Some people don't need more time.\n***\nI have more stories here, [GravityWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/GravityWriting/), please check it out.", "I was always fascinated by the reactions when I told people I had never slept. At first they did not understand me, then they did not believe me. We were still incredibly rare, us moddies, but people had heard of us. Eventually I would convince them that I had been one of the original tests, and mine had been sleep, or rather, the lack thereof. From here some people thought about what jobs I could perform for 24 hours. Some people thought about all the extra time I would have to play video games. Some people thought of all the cool adventures I could go on. I thought I had heard every response a thousand times.\n\nWhen I met her I was not expecting any response out of the ordinary. We went through the usual process of me explaining I was a moddie and I did not need to sleep, nor had I ever slept. At first I saw acceptance in her eyes, then it quickly changed to sadness. With sparkling jewels on her cheeks she quietly asked if that meant I had never dreamed. I had never thought of that before, nor had I ever been asked about it. \n\nI am glad I found her. I have still never dreamed, but she dreams so much it is enough for both of us.\n", "I didn't realise I was different until I was in high school. Thinking back now it is strange that I never questioned why my parents retired to their room every night but I guess they wanted to shield me from the truth. It started when I wondered what people meant when they said they felt tired. Soon after this I realised I had an advantage, \"not enough hours in the day\" would never be a saying that applied to me. I could work harder and still have time to play harder than anyone, it was then I realised what my purpose in life should be....\n\nGet Money, fuck bitches!", "It's the nights I enjoy the most. Walking down the empty streets and trails. Something is so, peaceful when near everyone's asleep. A relaxing feeling when there's nothing but crickets and frogs to speak between man's creations and the stars.\n\nI'm a Brid by the way, in case you hadn't guessed, a product of that tiny sliver of bureaucratic bickering 15 years ago, back when I was conceived. \n\nThe story is pretty simple. Gene-modding suddenly became possible, and boy was the government unprepared. Looking at me you may not even notice the difference, on the outside I'm nearly the same, save for the slightly pointy ears and the sharp canines. Some call me a Vampire, but really my name's Cassandra, insomnia extraordinaire.\n\nAs you know the government decided to ban gene-modding, but not after three weeks of it being legal. It was kind of like drones in the early 21st century, they were there for a little while before getting banned. But some people still had them from before, and by that point it was too late to take them away. Same goes for the 10,000 or so other Brids like me. The Lost Generation they call us. Of course we all know drones came back a decade or so later, and talks have started to possibly legalize hybrids again, but for now, just like the my walks in the night, I'm more or less alone.\n\nFor my walks, more or less means the animals. You'd be amazed the stuff that comes out of hiding after dark. All those little creatures that scurry into holes when somebody walks by during the day don't seem to mind who stops by after hours, well . . . at least not as much. If you sit in a dark patch for long enough you'll see them everywhere. From the squirrels and voles that scurry along through the underbrush, to the owls that drift silently through the frigid night air, to the bugs that writhe in the dirt, which rather similar to me, seem tireless.\n\nPeople have tried to explain sleep to me. But I suppose it's like explaining color to a blind man, it just doesn't click in my head. Words like rested, or sleepy, or tired, just don't really make sense. The best I've equated those three to are things like caffeinated, or hungry, or drugged out of your mind. Don't get me wrong, I understand how sleep works. The brain has to rest and heal, review all the events of the day before in order to keep functioning, but mine just doesn't work like that. The gene mods allow me to, in an incredibly simplified explanation, review and take in new information at the same time, effectively eliminating the need for the process of sleep in the first place. And it turns out if you don't need to do it, your body just decides you just can't do it at all. \n\nSo my life turned into these weird double edged sword that it is. I've almost got two lives. The one everyone knows is my normal life. I go to school, have friends, get decent grades and all that. Cassandra the Teenager. Then there's the life that fills the other one third of every day, the one that starts when everyone goes to bed and I'm left alone for eight hours. The life of Cassandra the Stargazer, the sleepless. Most people don't even know about that side, but I enjoy it all the same. After all it's my talent, what sets me apart, I suppose it comfortingly unique . . . in its own weird way.\n\nSure I've done what any logical girl would do with this supposed \"superpower\", finish extra homework, but you just can't just do that for one third of your life, so I've found other solutions to fill time. Like video games, or more often recently, walks through the night. I suppose it's almost become my equivalent of sleep. Some meditation to calm my scrambled brain after the day. Downtime. Relaxation. I'll go just to feel the cool breeze on my face, or watch the occasional car drive by, or sit in the shadow of an amber streetlamp just to hear it hum. But for as much as I understand sleep (which isn't much), the one thing I completely don't understand is dreams. \n\nThey just don't make any sense, at all, and yes I get they don't make sense to even the people that dream the dreams but . . . making characters? People you don't know and putting them and yourself into weird scenarios you come up with in your mind . . . I just can't comprehend what that'd feel like. I've been told sleeping is like being knocked out (which I've done by the way, not fun), but softer. That is reasonable I suppose, still weird to think, but the idea of these . . . visions . . . is on a whole other lever. Of course, they still fascinate me, almost as much as they scare me. I've heard stories about people's nightmares. About confronting your worst fears summoned by your own subconscious . . . or even worse, dying in your own dream. What could that possibly feel like?\n\n\"Why does everyone always seem to like their dreams when half the time their bad?\" I ponder and stand, looking up at the thousands of shimmering stars. \"Everyone seems content with them despite the fact that . . . that you know . . .\" My stomach grumbles and I clutch my gut.\n\n\"Yeah yeah, I know I know.\" I mumble into the air. Fun fact about never sleeping, you tend to need four square meals a day to keep active. All that wandering at night gets a girl hungry. \"Let's go grab our midnight snack.\" I smile and wander off into the night, heading for the warm dark windows of home." ]	12
	[WP]There are 5 known wizards in Middle Earth. Gandalf, Saruman, Radagast, and the two blue wizards who disappeared into the East never to be seen or heard from again....that is, until now.	[ "Millennial had passed and the history of middle earth was now all but fantasy. The tales of Gandalf the White, Aragorn, and dear ole Frodo Baggins were all but fiction to our beliefs. This is but a tale that ended long ago, long before the writings of history came to be. A history that was to be forgotten, a history that came across a man who took it upon himself to disguise it as myth. It was all well documented however there was a small detail left out. Many know of the great deeds of Gandalf the Grey, as well as the treachery of Saruman the White, even the small tales of Radagast the brown, and of the existence of the two blue wizards of the east. However there was one left out. Before the time of man, during the wars between the Valar and Melkor, Melkor brought into existence a power even mightier than Sauron to lead his armies. He was a powerful being even feared by most of the Valar. Though like Melkor he was defeated and sentenced into a void with Melkor. The gates to this dimension grew weary over time. A very very long time. So long a time that the beings which he came to know are no more. It is now that the gates have come open, and thus through out the gates arises a new dark power. Through the gates comes forth Néarusa the Black. ", "Then it happened. Everything the Hobbit knew flooded his mind, the world began to tremble. Lighting crushed the horizon the rain poured without mercy, head pounding the Hobbit stumbled to the ground. With all his might he pushed up and gazed with all his wonder to see it....\n\n\nStanding beyond the abyss as if it were a mountain untouched. A shimmer of red pulsed like a beating heart. Then it became clear. A statue of a man covered in chains that were heavy than his soul bore him down, a face as hard as mithril , teeth like knives and eyes that burned hot like the flames of Mordor. His stone hand reaching out for something....\n\n\nThe Hobbit then knew his life was about to change....\n\n\n", "Once there were five known wizards in Middle Earth. Everyday since their creation in the afternoon at about 2 they would gather at the Reform Club to play Whist, and every evening at 11 one of the five wizards would keep the cards for the next day next day. \n\nIt just so happened that Radagast stuffed the cards in his beard one evening and the next day found a hole in it. The card was nowhere to be seen (nowhere in his beard). The seven wizards, for that day, gathered in a circle on five rocking chairs, were bored out of their wizardy minds. While Saruman, Radagast and Gandalf suffered from intense ennui (wizards in particular were prone to this), the two Blue Wizards, Blue one and Blue too, had a ennui-thought. \n\n\"What if the world was round?\" Blue One exclaimed, sitting upright and no longer rocking.\n\n\"wayaonabt?\" Gandalf muttered, smoking his 'pipe'.\n\n\"The world might be a sphere...\" Blue One spoke, almost frightened with his revelation, each word an emphasis, each word punctuated by a chop of his hand, \"... and middle won't be middle!\"\n\nBlue Two, taciturn as he had always been, said nothing. He was, however, visibly confused, and studied intently at spherical motion he was making with both of his hands.\n\nWhile Saruman and Radagast were somewhat taken on this idea, Gandalf held his 'pipe' over to Blue Two's still gesticulating hands, and motioned for it to be passed to Blue One.\n\n\"enoughofyourshenanigansherehavesomecra-\" \n\n\"Will you accept?\", Blue One suddenly proclaimed, suddenly leaping from sitting to standing on his rocking chair, \"I hereby wager 20,000 tolkiens with anyone who wishe that I will carry out the tour of the world in 200 years or less i.e. in 1.752e+6 hours or 1.051e+8 minutes. Will you accept?\"\n\nThe gathering was quiet for a very long while, save for Blue One's rocking chair, which creaked periodically as he balanced skilfully on. Saruman peered down apprehensively from Blue One at Radagast, Radagast peered back at Saruman with an uneasy smile. Then Saruman and Radagast both looked at Gandalf, and watched him struggling to aim his mouth at his 'pipe', which Blue Two held in his still gesticulating hands.\n\nAfter some time still, Saruman cleared his throat. He tried to speak in a long and deep voice, but his voice cracked. \n\nGiggles from all around, and Gandalf crackled.\n\n\"So be it,\" Saruman said in a second attempt, his feathers a little ruffled, \"Blue Two shall accompany your journey around the world, if it is, as you say, round.\" \n\nHere Saruman grinned at Blue Two. Taciturn as he is he stopped gesticulating spherically and, his brows disappearing into his Disappearing Hat he pointed at himself incredulously. Gandalf finally managed a suck at his 'pipe'.\n\n\"Right, off we go then!\" Blue One said, and leapt off the rocking chair. He picked Blue Two up with his Disappearing Gloves and wasted no time in getting to the double doors. Everyone yelled him goodbye, and he said in reply and a jovial laughter \"GOOD RIDDANCE!\"\n\nAnd everyone saw that they went off to the East and was never seen or heard from again.\n\n-199 years later, Third Age, Mirthlond-\n\nAs Gandalf, Sam, Frobo and Bilbo approached the dock of Mirthlond Cirdan the Shipwright hollered at them from a distance. A distraught appearance plagued his benevolent grey face, his keen-as-stars pair of eyes bulging from layers of wrinkles. \n\n\"The ship is gone!\" he cried, running with mismatched breaths until he reached Gandalf's horse, \"The ship is gone!\"\n\nGandalf dismounted his horse with haste, and the company were confused at this turn of events. \"How could the ship be gone?\" he exclaimed, furious and a little unnerved, \"Speak, man, speak!\"\n\nThe Shipwright spoke in tearful incoherence, and Gandalf had to share some of his 'pipe' with the poor man before he made any sense.\n\n\"The ship, my ship, the MaryJaneWatson, was stolen on its return from the far shore!\" \n\nGandalf was evidently the most taken aback as he had ever been, for he cursed in Elder Swear. But just then, when the company braced for his swear, Frodo spotted something faintly resembling a ship with the same name printed on the hull making port.\n\n\"Hey man, like, isn't that your, like, ship?\" and pointed at the thing. \n\n\"Why, yes, yes of course...\" Cirdan the Shipwright said. He squinted at the ship for a few moments and, beholding only a hull, promptly fainted, and remained supine on the pavement.\n\nTwo blue men leapt from the hull onto the dock. The First Blue Thing clapped his hands together and dusted at his robes, while the other gesticulated industriously as he walked down the dock with his companion as if receiving something heavy and subsequently tossing into... a furnace? \n\n\"You can stop that now, Blue Too\", said Blue One, bemused.\n\n\"Oui?\" replied Blue Too, confused as to what noise he had just made.\n\nAnd the Two Figures saw Gandalf, and Gandalf slapped himself just so he knew this could not have been the work of his 'pipe'.\n\n\"Ah, Gandalf!\" Blue One held his arms wide, and Blue Too followed, \"it's been 199 years precisely since we last saw one another, hasn't it? I think you owe us a lot of tolkiens.\"\n\nGandalf blinked, and his company was not visibly unnerved. Gandalf knew these... hijackers? \n\nAnd Gandalf, as if having made a conclusion in his mind, shut his eyes and took a long breath from his 'pipe', and he spoke in a way Frodo, Bilbo, Sam and Cirdan had never heard him or anyone speak before.\n\n\"Wirhvubinmahnigga?\", he strode forth amiably in a reciprocated outstretched arms, and clapped the Two Blues on the back. \"Where have you been all these while?\"\n\n\"Oh it's a long story in that,\" Blue One replied, a genial and smug smile on his face, \"like, so long it'll take at least another Writing Prompt.\"\n\n\"Or eight movies,\" said Blue Too simply, and his Disappearing Hat promptly disappeared.", "The Blue Wizard was known by the far ones of the East as Alatar. He was loyal to Sauron, as Saruman was. His brother he had lost to the Great Eastern ocean; not even he had known his location. He came with legions of countless men, who were not Easterling nor Haradrim. They were all short and stout, with straight, black hair, with each man holding it in one knot, and black, folded eyes, and swarthy skin. Their ways were strange, and their language unknown by all but themselves and the Wizard. They worshipped him as a God, and each man was prepared to die for him. \n\nTheir march had lasted for over a year, and countless men had died, with their ranks always replaced. Finally, the massive force had crossed from the roads of Near Harad into Middle Earth. The Wizard's goal was simple, the job itself the work of years of logistics: Aid the armies sieging Minas Tirith. With his aid, surely they would take the capital of the free peoples, and they would undoubtedly falter before Sauron.", "Once more, Alexander ‘Aleiron’ Cakes (his surname was not common knowledge, he’d never live it down. The nickname, he had chosen for himself as a boy – everyone else thought that it sounded stupid, but he still liked it) had barely gotten himself out of a nice steaming pile of drek. Milk run indeed, this one had been! He disliked droids, and he hated ghouls; but, as he had discovered with some surprise, there was a special place in his heart for kooky cults of droid-worshipping ghoul riggers – the place being, of course, a box filled with razors and nanites and labelled ‘free to a bad volcano’. \n\nWhy Pallando Security (a recently-founded, smallish corporation specializing in cleaning undead infestations) had even hired him, this he could not begin to guess. Sure, against all expectations he had managed to survive in the shadowrunning business for a few years by now, and he had even gotten himself a modest reputation, but his best weapons had always been his easy smile and his unassuming, reassuringly dishevelled look – neither of which was of much use against ghouls or droids. Yeah, his magical senses had been useful to pinpoint the location of the staff; but plenty of other arcanists could have done as much – heck, that thing was humming with so much power that even your typical run-of-the-mill thug with the mystical attunement of the average potato could have felt it from a mile away after the containment field around the complex had been deactivated. \n\nNo surprise then that just after he had gotten away from the droids and the ghouls, he had been jumped by the most holy order of the eternal whatever it was – buncha dudes who liked wearing sheets and using the verb ‘rue’ unironically, anyway. Oh, and summoning demons, of course, they loved that. They had almost got him; thankfully, as they had discovered, eldridtch horrors from the multiverse’s moldiest underpants tend to default to ‘kill everyone’ mode if not kept under strict control, and one’s face being on fire is not especially conductive to mental discipline. \n\nAlso, ranting about the ‘absolute power’ that one would get by taking a staff from the cooling body of the arcanist that one is busily trying to murder was not as excellent an idea as some might think.\n\nStill, it had been close: the staff was crazy powerful, that was for sure, but he had never been very keen on the ‘blast everything in sight’ school of spellcasting. Which, as an aside, was the only reason why he was keeping his word and bringing the staff back to his employer: that thing was powerful, but it was pretty much a big ‘immense magical power here, kill this chump and it’s all yours!’ sign to anyone with even a smidgen of magical talent. Not his thing, really. Honestly, judging by the noises the only reason why no one else had caught up with him yet was that they were busily killing each other to get at him – not that he was complaining, of course. Still, best not to tarry. \n\nThe rendezvous point was finally at hand; and, thankfully, the Johnson was already there – a broad-shouldered, squat, elderly woman with a noticeable moustache and the ugliest, dirtiest hat that Alexander had ever seen. \n\nAlexander was in no mood for conversation. “Your staff. My money?”\n\nThe woman smiled. “Your money, my boy, and more. I am Minerva Pallando, CEO and founder of Pallando Security; and you, Mr Cakes, are about to go on an adventure!”\n", "The trouble with wizards is that they meddle.\n\nIt is a part of being a 'wise' person, the root of the term 'wizard'.\n\nWould a carpenter be expected to not use his skills?\nWould a bard be expected to be tonedeaf?\n\nSuch is a wizard. They have great wisdom, and spread it across the world, like redcurrant jam. Only a bit more red, as wizards, kindly as they are, tend to create a lot of chaos. And chaos means death, usually.\n\nOf Saruman can be attributed the invention of 'Black Powder', 'Mortar', and 'Dynamite'. Such has changed combat to one not of mettle versus metal, but of how much explosives one can hide in an area before the battle. The Mines of Moria, now a wound on the world itself, was the location of one attempt to turn a mine into a minefield, where the crop was the corpses of any who dared venture within.\n\nOf Gandalf, or Mithrandir in the Elvish tongue, not much else needs to be said. It was due to his actions that Laketown suffered a dragon attack at the time it did, and much of the Sauron business was due, indirectly, to his actions spurring the Fallen Enemy to rise anew as an eye.\n\nBut of the other wizards... Not much was known. Until they came back.\n\nWith cantrips, rituals and spells galore, these wizards used a more simplified form of magic, that could, seemingly, be taught.\n\nThe elder one, Elminster, wore a short sleeved blue shirt bearing the letters 'D R A G O N C O N 1 9 8 9' and blue trousers of a coarse material. Were it not for his goatee and magic wand, Elminster could be mistaken for a young scholar, but for his piercing eyes and tendency to mutter 'roll initiative' quietly at the start of combat. Elminster acted like a fool, almost like a blue-garbed mirror of Gandalf on a good day, but behind hos shenanigans with Prestidigitation there was always a greater plan.\n\nHis companion, an elderly man with a gigantic collar, was named Mordenkainen. Of Mordenkainen it could be said that he was a ruthless negotiator and a cunning researcher.\n\nThey resurrected Sauron, and reformed the Ring, albeit modified.\n\nThe reasons why, are as of yet, unknown, but shortly after they chucked the ring back in the volcano, and the eye vanished again. \n\nThen they found an Apocalypse Stone, the one for Middle Earth. They left the world again, heading East to unknown lands.", "When people heard that the blue wizards would return they were excited. Why wouldn't they be? There were new tales to hear and new perspective to gain. There was no way they could have expected what came next. \n\nOne had been killed in a battle against the forces of Sauron, he got the better deal of the two. The other, well people thought he had been tortured to madness. He carried with him an ancient text thought to be a relic of Sauron's. One of the elves tried to read it and was sent instantly into a catatonic madness. Truly this is what caused such a delirium in the wizard. All of the Kingdoms of Middle earth mourned for Abdul Alhazred as he merely cackled out one phrase ceaselessly, \"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!\"", "The young hobbit knew he had made a mistake coming to the mountains. He knew he shouldn't have listened to the old tales and should never ever have read the words on the old map. The sky gave an almighty crack as a huge object crashed on top of him. The object's little wooden legs ran in the air aimlessly as the young Hobbit fought to free himself. Rincewind looked around him and sighed. This definitely wasn't Ankh-Morpork." ]	8
	[WP] The dictator lies dead on the floor. You have a gun in your hand. You hear people coming. You don't know how you got here.	[ "There was a familiar spot in my mind blank and empty, a bullet-shaped hole where the answers should be. Call it denial. I wanted to dig inside my skull and find the answers. It didn't matter either way, I don't remember ever learning how to use a gun, but there is a dead man on the ground and a gun in my hand. I don't remember waking up that morning but I was standing somewhere I shouldn't be and the bullet holes in the door leading into the room seemed to spell the story out for me. Things made sense very quickly, the man on the ground needed to die, and so would everyone who got in my way.\n\nFootsteps were audible from behind the door, fast, heavy, alot of them. They were here to kill me, I had killed this man so it was an eye for an eye, it was fair in some sense.\n\nBut I don't want to die\n\nI didn't have to think twice, for some reason I felt my life was more valuable than theirs, and because of that, they died and not me. It was a simple process, and there isn't a whole lot of thought to it. If you've ever fired a gun it's just like the cap guns when you were younger, that little pop and a burst of smoke, someone playfully drops to the ground clutching their chest, laughing at the silly little game. Except now, it's a big pop and not a burst of smoke but of metal, people don't playfully drop to the ground, they scream and clutch whatever blood is playing a twisted game of hide and seek from their body. \nFive pops, five bleeding men. \n\nThings became dull, it was like thinking about it suddenly didn't matter, just knowing that I was alive was important.\n\nSome of them moaned on the ground, reaching for their guns, precious inches from their trembling fingertips. \npop\npop\npop\nLike little porcelain soldiers you might play with as a child, they tried to enforce their dead lords will. They serve no purpose, just to live out some life to the end of some finite and numbered chalk line. Marked in the beginning with stamps of feet and a toe tag at the end.\n\nI had faith in my will to live, they had faith in their holsters. I stepped over the bodies, 6 porcelain soldiers, and walking down the hallway meant playtime with more.\n\nSo I walked down the hallway.\n\nTurn left\npop\nTurn right\npop\nTurn left again\npop\n\nIt was the real life version of the original Wolfenstein except the Nazis wore suits and not swastikas, a Hi-Def remake with all the hallmarks of a shitty Hollywood script. More hallways, more dead men. I might have been shot once or twice but that was irrelevant to the situation, The more suits they threw at me, the more that died. \"Confidence was key\" Mamma might have always said.\n\npop\npop\npop\n\nLonger hallways, more turns, and finally doors. Big double doors, the kind that a grand exit is made for. I might have laughed at the time but I didn't remember to, something else I'd have to try and remember. \n\nCars could be heard screeching outside, people in a hurry, screams and languages I didn't know. It wasn't fucking English that's for sure. So I made my grand exit, a swift kick to the doors and I opened fire, the hail mary answer to a hail mary plan, zips and tings laid the drumbeat for death around. \n\nI could feel the blood draining from me, like a clock ticking, little bites and tickles where the bullets had cleared away the skin. Like absolvement of my crimes, I had done the deed and the story was complete. It was curtain call, time to fade to black, there would be no encore. \n\nExcept I didn't want to die\n\nI stepped forward towards them, I would write this script.", "I swivel my hand holding the gun to the side, letting me see humans worst creation. I somehow get my eyes to turn back to the man on the floor. All though i don't feel any pity for that man, i do feel bad that someone lost their life. It's more of a personal thing. The guards were getting closer, well that's what i assumed they were. I have zero memories of what had happened before this, all i know- literally -is that i just killed the modern day equivalent of Hitler. I run for the desk at the back of the oval like office area, and duck behind it, hoping it will shield me from any gunfire that may come my way. I'm positioned so that I'm on the left side of the desk, in-back of some cabinets, gun drawn.\n\nThey burst through the room, yelling words i don't understand, pointing their guns all around the room. They all wear black suits, shades, and a pistol. Before i knew it i was getting up, turning my Gloc 9 toward the farthest of the 5 men who have rudely barged in.\n\nPop\n\nTurn, point, shoot\n\npop\n\nRinse and repeat as needed.\n\nThe room was deadly silent. Since when did i know how to shoot a gun? Once again, my memories fail me. Six men all lay silent on the ground, in various strange positions. Without even thinking I've collected their guns, ammo and headed out the door. Turning left, not even checking to see if someone was coming. I walked down the hall as if I owned it, strides long and arms swinging. Since when did I have the composure to walk down a hall, possibly filled with armed men, so nonchalantly. \n\nThe walls seemed to be modeled after Roman or Greek architecture, white pillars seemingly everywhere. The carpet was a pattern of strange yellows and greens, making it seem extremely luxurious. \n\npop\n\nMy arm is in-front of me, gun in hand, aimed at a now lifeless corpse. The corpse falls to the ground, landing with a thump. I gotta get outta here, i think to myself. My once nonchalant aura is suddenly broken, i break out into a full on sprint, passing branches and rooms. I hear multiple men chasing after me, some yelling words i still don't quite understand. For all I knew it was Russian, maybe even French! I'll never know, because I'm running down the front steps. The building I was in seemed massive in scale, a dome at the very top, sitting on top of a rectangular building. The whole thing was white, even the fountain near by in the middle of the field. I run onto a concrete courtyard, with a tiled design, large tiles I may add. \n\npop pop pop\n\nI look up ahead in my distress, and see a few motorcycles in a semi circle , aiming behind me with various different weapons. I look behind me and see that my pursuers are, no longer pursuing! I decide that they are most likely here to help, as my last encounter with other people were shooting at me.\n\n\"Come on, Come on!\" one of the riders was yelling, still a good sprint away. I pick up my speed, throwing my weapon to the side, letting it land with a Klang. I bow my head, leaning forward. That's when I see my clothes, a stylish sweatshirt and cargo pants, both as white as can be. Right next to my foot i see a chunk of concrete pop off. That's when my ears register the sound of the gunshot from behind me.\n\nTwo more shots fly past me before the fourth one lands in my left upper-arm area, just below my shoulder. I feel it fly right through the fat of my arm, missing my bone and major artery. Still, it sent a spike of both adrenaline and pain coursing through me. I stumble for a second, but regain my elegant grace.\n\nCome on, Come on!! i yell inside my head, pushing my self to get to my presumed friends. That's when I suddenly reach them, jumping on the back of a white sports bike, labeled Ninja on its side. I grip the drivers shoulders, not even looking at him. I turn my head to look back the building i had just been in, realizing the immense scale of it. And that's when I feel all my memories come flooding back, realizing I had just killed the President of the United States.\n\n*So, i just wrote that whole story, completely confusing the white house* with Capitol hill, so yeah, i guess i switched them, oops. hehe**" ]	2
	[WP] Write a short story where the first and last sentence is "It's not your fault".	[ "I replay the scene in my head every day.\n\nWhat was I supposed to do? What could I have done? Why didn't I do this, why didn't I do that? I interrogate my conscious every day, slowly picking apart my persona until my sanity is on the brink.\n\nI see him every day.\n\nWatching me. \n\nHe stares at me, his wide eyes pleading. Begging.\n\nBut why? \n\nI close my eyes, I try to wish him away, but he still remains, silently chastising me with his solemn, forlorn gaze. \n\nI want him to tell me what I tell myself every day.\n\n\"It's not your fault.\"", "\"It's not your fault\", whispered Martha to her six year old unconscious son. The hum of his life support machine filled the silence. The white, tiled walls of the hospital providing a stark contrast to his small, bloodied body.\n\n\"I knew when you ripped the arms off of all those old ladies in the nursing home that you didn't mean it.\" \n\n\"It was the small gnome that climbed into your ear and took over your body, honey.\"\n\n\"... it's not your fault...\"", "“Of course it’s not your fault, how could you have known he would get hit?” Malcom asked.\n\nI just looked at him knowing what he would say next.\n\n“Oh that’s right you did know, after all you wouldn’t be psychic with knowledge of the future. Shame you dont try harder to stop these things.”\n\nI put down my PB&J and glared at him, ready to smash his grinning face to pieces.\n\n“I never asked to know what happens next, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for my intuition to be a real person. I probably need psychiatric help.” I said\n\nHe grinned and handed me the bong.\n \n“Your intuition? That's what you're calling me these days? If you are really that serious about getting rid of me we’ll schedule an appointment at the loony bin tomorrow. See how well you do without me” he said, still offering me that stupid grin.\n\nI finished up my sandwich and went back to bed. The next day I went to see Dr. Marleen Cambell the only psychiatrist in the state that took my insurance.\n\n“How are we today Sam?” she asked me.\nI could hardly hear her over the blood rushing to my ears. She was pretty, and as she leaned back I could see her relaxed personality.\n\nI knew she would go out for a drink with me if I asked properly, and I hadn’t been with a woman for months. \n\n“I’ve been seeing someone,” I said,” he isn’t really there but he is real all the same. He knows things that are going to happen.”\n\nShe looked at my file briefly and returned her gaze to me.\n“Sam I see here you are paranoid schizophrenic, have you been taking your medication?” she asked.\n\n“Yes, and he went away for a few months, but now he’s back. He says he’s 'adapted' to them” I said, knowing how crazy I sounded but still unable to stop myself. I needed help badly and right now this woman was the closest I would get.\n\n“What’s his name?” she said, “Is he here now?”\nI looked at Malcom, who had draped himself on one of the comfortable armchairs and was playing a game on his phone.\n“His name is Malcom” I said kicking myself mentally for being so weak in his presence.\nShe looked at me solemnly, the way people do when they are about to give advice.\n\n“I’ll give you a higher dosage this time” she said “but you have to want him to be gone to get rid of him. You must ignore him completely until you realize he isn’t there.”\n\nMalcom snickered, before putting his phone away. We all stood up and as I was turning to ask her out when he grabbed my arm.\n\n“No sense asking a dead woman out. Shame a pretty thing like her has to die in the can,” he said, before letting go of my arm and strolling out the door.\n\nI looked at Marleen dreading what I had to say next.\n\n“Doctor?” I said.\n\n“Yes Sam?”\n\n“Be careful in the bathroom” I replied before following Malcom.\n\nI went to the receptionist to schedule my follow-up and drove home.\n\nTwo days later I got a voicemail from her office canceling all future appointments.\n\nMalcom was standing in the kitchen chugging a soda when the machine told us she had an accident getting ready for a date.\n\nI slowly looked up at him, my heart sinking into my stomach and dread creeping its way down my back.\n\nHis gaze was completely unapologetic. \n“Of course it’s not your fault. How could you have known?”\n", "“It's not your fault. There was nothing you could do. Can you tell us what happened?” Jack had been playing a game with his sister and was hiding in the dirty laundry basket when the back door burst open in front of him. He had been too scared to move or scream as the three men with black ski masks ran past him, shouting and waving their guns. As he hid, he heard them gather the rest of his family into a room nearby. From there Jack could hear the sounds of his mother and sister crying as his father begged the men “to take whatever you want, just please don't hurt my family”. The men had gotten angrier and angrier as they searched the house but didn't find anything worth anything. They assumed that his father must have been hiding it somewhere, keeping it from them. They then started to threaten his father, but he could only beg the men to spare them. The first shot rang throughout the house. There was a moment of silence before the sound of his mother's scream pierced the air. Her screams were quickly cut short as another shot rang out. The men asked one last time where the money was but his father just sobbed. The final shot brought deafening silence to the whole house. Jack watched as the men left the house, leaving the same way they had come. It took him what seemed like hours to get out of the basket. He had stumbled to the living room. He didn't know how long he stood there in the door way but eventually new men arrived saying: “It's not your fault.”", "'It's not your fault' i told myself as i heard his drunken footsteps stumble upstairs, I knew it was a matter of time before he was at hand of the locked door.\n\nSince my mum had past away he had developed a bad drinking habit to deal with the grieving, but after a fee drinks he was a changed man.\n\nHe made it to my door and was begging me to open it i knew this time he would hurt me. My heart was racing as i heard the police siren in the distance, he heard it too and it only encouraged him. The banging and shouthing got worse, I could only hope they arrived in time.\n\nI watched in horror as the door started to give way, he came charging at me spouting hateful comments in my direction. I could only remind myself as i shut my eyes and tears slowly rolled down my face, 'its not your fault'.", "\"It's not your fault.\" bee said to me as I stare at the now lifeless body.\n\n\"I agree.\" I said to her.\n\nI walked to the sink and washed the bloody knife in no time. \"How do we even dispose of body?\" I asked. \"I have no idea straub.\" bee answered. Then she told me that most killers dispose the body in the dumpster. \"You clean up the blood and I will dump the body okay?\" I asked.\n\n\"Okay.\" she answered. As I dumped the body, I repeated in my head the last words he said to me, \"It's not your fault...\" ", "It's not your fault.\n\nYou did everything right. You were a gentleman. You treated her like a person, not an object. You wore the right clothes, told the right jokes, knew the right people, made the right moves, did everything right. You played it cool not clingy. Let her come to you. Let her cum with you.\n\nIt is your fault\n\nWhere did you go wrong? Why aren't you good enough? You let down your guard. Too soon. You weren't ready, she wasn't ready. Why did you go over that night? You knew it was just sex. Why did you go over? You should have waited. You always mess it up. You let yourself get used. Or were you trying to use her?\n\nYou can do better.\n\nShe wasn't that cute. Wasn't that nice. She smoked. She was too fat. She wasn't smart enough. There are so many better girls. Please, this is DC, girls like her are a dime a dozen. She was perfect. Stop lying to yourself. No. Lying makes it hurt less.\n\nIt's not your fault.", "\"It's not your fault,\" the voice boomed over the intercom. \"Step down from the platform carefully.\"\n\nLike I believe you. Of course it's my fault. I was the one who ran away.\n\nA burst of static, and then the message repeated. \"It's not your fault. Step down from the platform carefully.\" My legs trembled underneath me. I knew they were getting weak. I had been there for hours listening to the same message.\n\nTen, nine...\n\nI began to count down in my head, to count down how long I thought I needed before I jumped.\n\n\"It's not your fault. Step down from the platform carefully.\"\n\nHow had it come to this?\n\nEight...\n\nI had been raised to be a genius. My parents fed me all the \"right things,\" read me all the \"right things,\" and when I was old enough to attend school, they were sure my teachers would see my intelligence. When I was eight years old, I was transferred to a different school. My parents disagreed with my teachers' decision that I was, not only not-a-genius, but also a special needs child.\n\nDeep breaths. Deep breaths. Okay. Seven.\n\nIn elementary school, I stuck my tongue to a frozen bicycle rack. Seven times. My parents insisted that I had simply tried to express my genius in a way that was socially inappropriate, as geniuses are wont to do.\n\nSix...\n\nI went through six schools before my parents settled on one which separated children based on their levels of knowledge and learning rather than age. I don't know how they came to terms with my classmates all having severe disabilities of one kind or another.\n\nA gust of wind blew me forward, and I nearly lost my balance.\n\nFive. Five. Five. Five. Five.\n\nI love fives. I love when things line up in fives, or when I get to repeat things five times. My favorite thing about my alternative middle school was being on a basketball team, where we were a group of five. I'm sure it wasn't serious, or at least we didn't play any \"real\" games, but I loved the groups of fives. I also got to wear the number five on my shirt, after I traded with someone who loved sixteens just as much. It was fives as far as my eyes could see.\n\nFour, three...\n\nIt took me three years to move on from being part of the sixth grade. I guess I just had a really hard time with the lessons. My parents grew frustrated during those years. I was never sure if they were mad at me, or each other, but I figured it was probably something I did.\n\nTwo.\n\nTwo days ago, I decided to run away from them. If I was gone, I thought, maybe they would be happier. \n\nWhen I left this morning, I didn't make it very far, and I wasn't well-prepared. They had me cornered, but after exhausting themselves screaming for me to climb back down from the platform, they decided to record this message instead.\n\n\"It's not your fault,\" it started. \"Step down from the platform carefully.\" They were always so concerned about being careful, about how fragile I looked with my thin limbs.\n\nOne.\n\nOne more deep breath. One more glance behind me.\n\nI gasp. My parents have stopped focusing on me, and are now physically fighting each other. My mother wrapped around my father like a snake, pulling out his hair. My father, punching my mother's face as best as he can while they both scream.\n\nIt's my fault. It was always my fault. One step forward into nothingness.\n\n\"It's not your fault.\"", "It's not your fault. My beautiful wife said to me as my dick went limp inside of her. We've been trying for a long time to have a child, but it just wasn't working. We were both so sad and torn up about it. \n\nShe actually became pregnant a few times but each time the pregnancy self-terminated. I was concerned this was due to my wife's unfortunate past as a methamphetamine addict. Before we started dating she was that pocked mark lady that sucked cock for drugs, that school kids would laugh at. But I saw through all of that. I saw the real her. An intelligent, deep, warm, women with empathy unmatched by any person. \n\nI took care of her as she withdrew from the methamphetamine, and now it was time for me to take care of her again. We were at the fertility clinic, the doctor told her that the methamphetamine rotted out her uterus, nothing would live in there, it was an apocalypse nuked by methamphetamine, absolutely destroyed. He said he had never seen a uterus so messed up. I told her, It's not your fault." ]	9
	[WP] Whenever you blink, you take a "screenshot" of what you can currently see. The afterlife is simply a photo album containing every "screenshot" you've ever taken.	[ "There was almost five hundred million stills from my life. The first few were of my parents looking proudly at me. Apparently blinking was a fun thing for me to do when I was younger, because they're so close set that moving through them quickly is like one of those old films with no sound. I keep on scrolling through them until I reach a milestone. My first birthday. Kids running around happy looking parents. The cake looked really tasty. Another long scroll through the stills and another milestone. My first day of school. A lot of the kids looked scared, I was no different. In the reflection of the glass door my face was gave away that I was a little upset.\n\nI saw a search bar in the corner of my eye. I put in the names of the people I remembered fondly. Mom, dad, my brother and sister. Each one of them was tagged and it was fun watching them grow up again. I looked up events in the search bar; vacations, school days, days at work. I spent a lot of time doodling. \n\nI look up heart breaks. The album is larger than I thought it would be. A lot of the stills are out of focus, I was definitely crying in a lot of these. Girls I loved over the years, the memories are flooding in. Some of the pictures when I get older have little sound bits. I threw around the word love a lot.\n\nI look up the terms 'happy' and 'milestone' as the last album. The first picture is the first time I saw her. Autumn leaves on the ground and she was wearing a light black jacket. Blue jeans hugging her tightly and boots laced up tight. She loved those boots. The first time we kissed. The first time we said 'I love you.' The first time we fought. The day we got married. Our son being born, and then our daughter a few scrolls later. All of us growing older. And finally a blank white screen. I swipe, and she's on the right side of the frame looking down at me. I swipe again and my son and his wife enter the frame. Another swipe, my daughter and her wife as well. Then my grandchildren enter the frame. They each leave one by one until its only her. She's crying but trying to smile. My hand brushes those tears away. I can tell we're both wrinkly and old and the last still is us kissing, the our voices in unison, \"I love you.\"\n", "\"This is supposed to an album of my life?\" I asked, flipping through the pages. \"Why are they all just black?\"\n\nThe angel shook his head. \"Timing issues\" he said. \"Some bonehead set the capture -On Blink- instead of -After Blink-. We had a hardware patch ready but they'd already put y'all into mass production.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You live a terrible life, suffering from depression. However, the only thing keeping you going are your lucid dreams where you control what happens.	[ "When reading the story I was convinced the character was going to be someone like a janitor, or a cubicle monkey (your inspiration possibly?) but never the ceo. This is surely due to how well written this piece is, and how you built on the stereotypes of depression. Your narrative serves as a good reminder that depression doesn't discriminate based on position, wealth, gender, or any other factor we as humans have chosen to use to segregate, and elevate our status' above our peers. Just to wrap a question in here, what was your motivation for this piece? ", "My phone is telling me it's 8:00 AM. It does so by squealing the same tone enthusiastically and without remorse. My phone is very good at it's job. Sitting up, I swipe at the screen and silence the alarm. I close my eyes and try to lock in the memory of last night's dream.\n\nI'm fairly certain that I was some sort of creature in the forest. I remember jumping and swinging through the trees. It's so hard to remember. The details begin to slip away from me as wakefullness purges my brain of the fantastic, making room for reality. Damn. Lost another one. Maybe.\n\nI shit, I shower, I shave. My keys are on the bedside table, next to my phone and wallet. Boxers, slacks, undershirt, dress shirt, tie. Pocket my phone and wallet, grab my keys. A monkey, holy shit. I was a goddamn monkey swinging through the trees. Some details came back to me, I remember the soft, warm glow of the sunlight coming through the canopy. I remember the warmth on my monkey face. I smile.\n\nI drive to work. The radio is shit this morning. Never any good news. The office looms before me. It consumes more of the skyline with each passing mile. I seem to remember a memo about corporate pricks coming in today. Fuck those guys. I light a cigarette and take a deep drag. There were other monkeys... Yeah I remember those goobers with me up there in that grand old forest. We had a fuckin time swingin' through those trees.\n\nParking spot. Swipe Card. Green light. Enter hell through the front gates. Diane is talking on her fucking bluetooth. She flashes me a look and pretends to be very, very busy. Her keyboard goes clickity clack. I hate her nasal voice. I think we could find a better receptionist. I hurry to the elevator. I look for a button that will take me up into the canopy. There isn't one. I press the button for floor ten instead.\n\nBlessed solitude in this little box. Maybe if I'm lucky the cable will snap and take me to the basement in the express lane. God damn, to be so lucky. The doors open on the tenth floor and I'm greeted by ringing phones and the indistinguishable hum of thirty people talking in cubicles. I remember swinging so hard on a branch I broke through the canopy. I remember I decided it was time to fly. My monkey arms turned into bird wings. Man that had been awesome.\n\nI walk to the back end of the floor. A little name plaque on a door says 'Dave Corning, CEO'. Open door, enter room, close door, sit at my desk. Another day in the life. I close the blinds. I close my eyes. What kind of bird had I been? Bird-of-fuckin-paradise, man. The monkeys in the trees below had all jumped up through the canopy. I'll be damned if they hadn't followed my lead and turned into birds.\n\nThe phone rings. It's Jim. He's incompetent. I solve his problem in marketing and hang up. Line two is beeping. It's Carla. She's hot. She thinks I'm incompetent. I tell her who to call to solve her problem. She thinks I'm blowing her off. I am. I look at the picture on my desk of my ex-wife and two kids. Alimony's a bitch. So is she. Maybe she'll let me see them on Christmas. Maybe she'll fuck me over again. Maybe I need a new lawyer. Me and my bird buddies had a fine time last night. If we weren't soaring then I don't know what soaring is.\n" ]	2
	[WP] A Hero on the brink of fulfilling their quest slowly realises that they are actually the villain.	[ "All I wanted was to take care of my son.\n\nI was born on the planet Zareoth, a place where technological advancements had been both triumph and disaster. Growing up I lived in Zareoth biggest city, Trangor. There I lived as any other Zareothian and participated in school where I excelled in robotics engineering and clone reconstruction. Once I finished school I was allowed to venture to a foreign planet named Rengarius. There I continued my research and grew in the knowledge of my specialty. Everything was splendid and I was content in the path my life was going. Then I saw her.\n\nThe most beautiful creature in the universe. Not to be cliché, but it was love at first sight. Her name was Rachel and after dating for 4 months (604 years \"Earth time\") we were married and she was pregnant.\n\nThings settled down between Rachel, Thomas, and I. We moved back to my home planet and it seemed that I was destined to live the life that had been planned for me. I was making breakthroughs in a new hobby of research. Teleportation was the new \"thing\" and in my off time I tried to make breakthroughs in inter-universal teleportation. I always felt like I was so close to figuring it out, but was one step behind the ever-changing ebbs and flows of the universe. Then the Black Sun occurred. \n\nThe Black Sun is a once in 400,000 year occurrence that is similar to an eclipse. Some people on Zareoth decided to flee to neighboring planets in the fear that the Black Sun would somehow cause an ice-age, but my colleagues all convinced me to stay. Staying wasn't that hard of a decision honestly, I was addicted to my work and hobby and didn't want to put my beautiful wife and 3 year old son traveling to avoid a silly eclipse.\n\nWhen the Black Sun hit, everything went dark. Since this was the first recorded black sun (our society dates back to 10,000), no one knew what to expect. \n\nOur society became so accustomed to clones and robots that they were viewed as individuals. This led to the overlooking of the fact that they are controlled by data via The Quantaceptor, which is basically the fancy name for a solar powered satellite. When The Quantaceptor lost power, the feed to the robots and clones was severed and these machines were acting on free will. \n\nSince my job was to know these machines, I knew we were in deep shit.\n\nI immediately run to our ship garage and prepare for evacuation to Tandione, the closest planet. From there we could hop planets and avoid the Black Sun until The Quantaceptor was back online. As I run into the garage and start up the ship, two clones approach my house. I recognized both because I had dismantled them and rebuilt them when I was a student. The one on the left was titled Tom341 and the one on the right was titled Claire51223. \n\n\"Stop where you are going sir\" they yell at me as I run to my ships control panel. At this point I am genuinely afraid. I placed the 435CannonBlasters in the arms of the clones, and installed their targeting system. In other words I knew I was good at what I did and was screwed.\n\nOnce I reached the control panel I set the destination and call for my family to join me. Rachel is carrying Thomas. \"Everything is going to be okay. We are going to survive\" I keep saying over and over again. They make it into the garage. \"Hurry! We are going to be fine\" I yell out. As they are feet from entering the ship Claire51223 targets Rachel. It was over in a flash. Right before my eyes Rachel is vaporized and Thomas is laying on the ground crying.\n\nI grab my blaster, and in a last ditch effort I try and scoop up Thomas. As I reach down to grab him Tom341 locks his aim. Oh shit, we are screwed. \n\nLucky for me I wasn't as good of a student as I thought I was. The blaster shot screams over my head and makes contact with my inter-universal teleportation device. All of the sudden it screams to full life.\n\nTime slowed down and a million thoughts rushed through my mind at once. How did this start working? Is it safe? What are my options? In my period of fight of flight I make eye contact with Claire51223 and know that she is locking in. I make the decision to run and jump with Thomas into the portal.\n\nWe come out in the middle of a street filled with people on a planet that I had never researched. Yellow cars that use wheels for navigation. Big screens on the sides of buildings. People rushing and yelling. It was bothersome but at the same time incredible. This race was nowhere near the technological level that I was, yet they seemed so immersed in the world around them. Not going to lie, I was just as dumbfounded as the few people taking pictures, who had obviously been seeing the spectacle for the first time as I was.\n\n\"We're safe\" I whisper to my son, and begin to try and map out my next course of action. Then out of no where bright flashing light start to appear all around me. The teleporter was still online and the robots and clones were coming to the planet I was currently on. The unleash of the Black Sun event from trillions of lightyears away was now being transported to this planet. \n\nSuddenly I get a flashback of Rachel being vaporized and then look down at my son and realize that I truly am the villain.", "I am so glad I found you again. We are the only ones left in this city, I think. I don't know how much you know about what is going on but, as far as I can tell, it started a week ago, about the time I first met you. It was gradually getting darker every day since then until ash started falling from the sky like snow. That was the day the monsters appeared. I was at work when someone knocked on my office door. I expected it to be somebody with a computer issue but when he opened the door and I saw his face, an unknow terror crept over me. There was no hesitation - this creature was dangerous. It looked almost like a human but the horrible facial features and bony extrusions were nothing like I had ever seen on a creature. I took a step back, planning my actions, the creature walked slowly in my direction, making terrifying sounds unlike anything I have ever heard. I grabbed a camera tripod, the first thing I could find, and charged at the thing. I landed a solid blow on it's head and it fell, whimpering in a fetal position. I couldn't take any chances and I kept on beating it until it stopped moving.\n\nThat was the first time I encountered the creatures. I have killed many since and there seems to be no end to them. I always try to avoid combat whenever I can though, I prefer sneaking past them, sometimes it feels like they don't even notice me and now that I think of it, it has never been difficult to kill them either. I sometimes even feel sad for them, they act so much like humans, it seems like they are mimicking human lives, going to work, socializing and even doing the shopping.\n\nI don't know what happened to everyone, whether they were transformed into these creatures or the creatures killed the humans and are trying to take their places. I have been hiding for a week and I was starting to question myself. What if I was the one that has changed? But then I saw you. I know you can't talk but I hope that you at least understand what I am saying. I really appreciate the company even if you don't respond, although moving around with you has proven more problematic than I had thought it would. This never happened when I was alone. With you the monsters seem to be agitated even at the slightest vision of us. At least they don't seem to be aggressive, it almost seems like they are the ones frightened... I am not sure what to make of all this but for now, I know that we must keep looking for others. I will keep you safe until we do.", "With haunting steps, the Dragon Knight strolled into Stonekeep. Blood of friend and foe alike coated him, staining his steel and leathers. The horde at the gates proved greater a threat than he'd calculated, but it mattered not. He had to get inside, and the sacrifice of his own men was a sacrifice well spent. They would do the same, were they in my shoes.\n\nThe Emperor of Eatun sat upon his throne at the opposite end of the great hall. Old, weak, but as able-minded as the day he tricked the world into trusting him. Patchy white hair and a bald chin, he looked frail as glass. There were no guards to protect him, to establish any sort of final defense. They'd died outside, along with everyone else, save the Dragon Knight.\n\n\"Do you know how much pain and suffering you've wrought?\" asked the Emperor, quivering at the sight of the crimson-soaked sword. \"You've ruined my lands, Percival. You've upset the balance.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I have,\" the Dragon Knight admitted, regretting that turn of events. Peaceful protests had been the start of the rebellion, now decades old and near its end. Percival White, the Dragon Knight of Rivertow, had lent aid to the cause by capturing the city that'd bestowed his title. He readily gave up Rivertow as the base of command for the true king, an offer accepted hesitantly by the rebel leader. \n\nThat was ten years ago, and the true king had lost his head in seven less. The Dragon Knight's vow to avenge him and rule in his stead had brought him here to Stonekeep, brought the rebellion to its height. Yes, the costs had been great, and many more may need being paid before the lands were just. But today, Percival needed only the black crown sat upon the wrinkled head of the Emperor.\n\n\"Do you think killing me will right your wrongs? You think my allies will submit to you once I'm gone?\"\n\nThe Dragon Knight scoffed. \"I think little of the lords who will cry your name. I will smash them underfoot if they dare disobey. Anything and anyone that tests me will taste my blade. I have slain dragons, 'Your Majesty'; affairs of men are far easier to handle.\"\n\nPercival reached the dais, a small staircase all that was left between him and the elderly man. High up was his throne, enough that a fall would turn his bones into dust and crush his innards. The Emperor was trapped, left to his fate. Fear shined in his eyes, and the smell of piss clung to his robes. He leaves this world a shadow of a shadow, more infant than man.\n\n\"I made foolish mistakes,\" the Emperor said, tears trailing down his wrinkled cheeks. \"I am not a perfect man. But I know one thing.\"\n\nThe tip of his blade pressed atop the Emperor's breast, Percival gave pause. This ought to be splendid. \"Share your knowledge, old man. Bring me knowledge with your final breath.\"\n\n\"I know the gods will forgive my mistakes, but yours?\" He barked a shallow, dry chuckle. \"The gods turn their backs to you, Dragon Knight. You shall not know forgiveness.\"\n\nAnother wheeze of amusement escaped the Emperor before Percival gave a swift thrust through his chest. The old man twitched, then slumped into his soiled throne, eyes wide open. Grotesquely, his maddened smile remained.\n\nPercival couldn't stand the sight of it. He took the dead man by his throat and hurled him off the high rise. The sickening squelch echoed through the empty chamber.\n\nHe dropped his sword, letting it clatter back down the stairs behind him. He turned and situated himself down on the ornate seat. Where there was once a great buzz of activity, the longtables and open floors were bare and quiet. So silent, Percival swore he heard the sound of the Emperor's blood trickle out of his body down below. \n\n\"I will fix this,\" he called out, his dying echoes losing confidence with every reverberation. \"I... I will.\n\n\"I hope.\"" ]	3
Dig it?	[WP] You are a private investigator in a future world where we have advanced robotics and technology, but the culture stagnated in the early 1970's. This is cyberfunk.	[ "I awoke in some dark room, de smell uh mould and da damn unmistakable smell uh cocaine sweat wuz all ah' could snatch in. 'S coo', bro. \nas mah' eyes adjusted t'de light level mo'e details became visible, ah' wuz definitely in some sto'age cellar, nobody else around and passed out. Man! \n\nHow de fuck dun did ah' get here? Wuz it fast jimmy? Nah, he's some rat, but he ain't brave enough fo' dat. Man! \n\nI gots down off de dank floo' and fumbled around fo' some bit whilst digtin' mah' bearin's. Nodin' in here but mah'self and whut looked likes some soggy old half smoked j. ah' could now see da damn doo' clearly, big old steel fucker, gots'ta weigh some ton, so's I went down and checked dat broder. Ah be baaad... Locked. Wouldn't even jiggle it wuz so's heavy. Slap mah fro! \n\nWell fuck. Ya' know? \n\nI looked around mah'self, ah' gots'ta have at least some lasa' on me o' sump'n. \n\nFuck. Ya' know? \n\nWell as I'm probably stuck here, I'm digtin' t'dinkin' uh how ah' gots here. \n\n\nLast ah' rememba' is last night (well, how long gots ah' even been out, it could gots been days ago. 'S coo', bro.) ah' wuz on some job fo' de Warlo'ds, gun runnin', me and fat Jimmy and howlin' Mike. De shipment wuz some crate uh high powered lasa' rifles, dese wuz no fuckin' pea shooters,dese wuz real big boy toys. We wuz deliverin' it t'a rival gang fo' peacekeepin'. \n\nI used the The Dialectizer.\n\n\n", "“I’ll call you when I get her,” I ensure the worried voice on the other end of the line, before ending the call.\n\n\nThe halls of this metal walled dump have half circles indented into the reflective surface that morph and contort the image of my face as I move. Elongated egg shaped lights with ultra bright, neon blue, lighting blind me as the partially exposed bulbs come into my view. \n\n\nThey buzz and I hate it. \n\n\nOccasionally, on the otherwise plain walls, a tilted square appears and grows large before rotating, shrinking, and then vanishing entirely. There is no pattern or specific reason for the placement of these lambent boxes. \n\n\nVisual stimuli for your walking pleasure. God forbid you get bored in the hallway.\n\n\nGod is dead and he has been replaced by nanocrystal quantum dot displays. Triptych screens on every wall for you to pray and sell your soul to. \n\n\nMy watch, with its elastic wrist band and gold screen lining, is pinging consistently to my In-World Digital Interface (IDI). Little blobs of transmogrifying virtual liquid, floating in the distance, indicate that she is here. Pulsing and dancing as it absorbs itself, breaking into smaller pieces of digital globular nonsense. \n\n\nAll I need to do is find her and bring her home.\n\n\nThe electro-funk jams, grinding out from a room down the hall interfere with my ability to hone in on her. Preventing me from determining what the situation is and whether she is safe or not. Against the shiny wall, a couple, both in mid-calf high and brightly colored vinyl platform boots, blow smoke in each other's faces and yell profanities at me. Thier pupils grow wide and their eye color changes beneath their tinted asymmetrically shaped glasses. \n\n\n“Do you see that suit!?” The girl cackles, hair sprayed up into two stiff cylinders of dark and curly afro, standing erect from either side of her head.\n\n\n“It ain’t even skin conforming er nothin’. Fuckin’ bore,” the boy replies, twisting a ringed robotic finger into one of the shredded tassels of the scantily clad woman’s belly shirt. \n\n\nA bunch of monkies. \n\n\nSniffing in the smoke of whatever they can light to induce chemical highs and make like rabbits in the hallway. I continue towards the ping and their mood lit buckles change color as I pass. Glowing orange from their boots, belts, and wrists. \n\n\nPointless garbage, the lot of it. \n\n\nThe patterned carpet changes, refreshing from paisley to a variety of different sized squares and the shapes on the wall change color to match. Now a vivid red which tints the metal wall and reflects against my skin.\n\n\nI’m no stranger to these lower class establishments and their hooligan inhabitants with their skin fitted pants and android integrations. \n\n\nBody modification was all the hype now. \n\n\nChop off arm and get fitted for something better. Don’t like your eyes? No problem, they’ll scoop ’em out and, guess what, you can make them glow radical and dynamic patterns. \n\n\nAnd I’m the square one. \n\n\nNow at the door, I press a finger against the keypad. It gives a chime, high pitched and upbeat, before turning blue and allowing me a visual. In my IDI, the door becomes holographic. A colorful blueprint of the interior of the apartment appears and the blobulating bubbles move to her. The system alerts me of three other bodies in the room and I get a reading that is incredibly disappointing. \n\n\nThough, I always expect to be disappointed with kids these days. \n\n\nThey are melding. Drugged out and interconnected as they delve into a psychedelic trip through their partner’s soul. It could last days, if you let it, and people report it as being one of the most intimate experiences one can have. \n\n\nI think it’s a load of crap.\n\n\nBut, the load of crap has given me more than my fair share of clients. Worried parents looking for their rebellious kids who’ve already lost an arm and an eye and a foot to this modern mania. When I give them back, they’re without an independent mind. Struggling in the twisted grasp of that damned drug. \n\n\nSome wacked out combination of battery acid, juiced amazonian frogs, and cerebral fluid stolen from fresh corpses. Frankly, the fucking chemistry is beyond me but the consequences just don’t seem worth the ride. The infant poison is known to cause an intense case of co dependency between its users. \n\n\nThe door pings as I code my override pin into my IDI and it spins, taking a portion of the ground around with it. Once it’s done and I’ve ridden the floor into the small front room, the odor of kids who’ve been melding for at least a week punches me square in the face. \n\n\nThe sweet and sickening smell of sex, body odor, and the smoke from the drug itself fills the neon colored room. Each wall decorated in an over the top fashion, with flashing lights and moving pictures, sewn together to make an ugly patchwork living space. Mannequins dressed in clear plastic skirts and bright highlighter colored fabric stare at me, curious about my presence with their preprogrammed android faces. \n\n\n“Jade, your mother sent me. I’m coming back there, please submit willingly. I’ve been given permission to use whatever force is deemed necessary,” I call out, hand cautiously on my paralytic in preparation for retaliation. \n\n\nAs was typical with these cases, she doesn’t fight back. Her bright pink, wig-like, mop of hair is matted and tangled. Strands sit in front of her face which, sometime last week, sported neon colored makeup that is now smeared all over her pale skin. Skin which is exposed down to the deep ridges of her hip as she slumps against the chair like a lifeless crash-test dummy. \n\n\nThe records on the wall glow and spin, sampling themselves to make a cacophonous symphony of dull noise. Recycled, refurbished, garbage.\n\n\nFrom behind the projected beads covering the closet erupts two cartoon looking men with bright red leather pants which flare out at the bottom so you can’t see their shoes. The rest of their attire is proper business dress, a slightly too large white blazer and tucked in white button up, topped with a red narrow tie. \n\n\nI’ve never been a fan of the narrow tie. \n\n\nA springing electronic noise from my IDI signals that I should move and the beams of green light pass my body. I fire two shots from my paralytic and hit on of the morons.\n\n\nHe collapses to the floor and looks helplessly to his partner.\n\n\n“They’re our fuckin’ pigs. Get yer own,” the standing man growls placing a hand against his tinted lenses, a growing and shrinking dotted circle moving along the glass. “If it’s the girl ya want, come back later. We can figure a fair price, but they’re testing right now.”\n\n\nI agree and walk out of the room. \n\n\nShe is a tester. A body pumped full of chemicals and poked and prodded until the effects wear off. If this was a lab, I would need to come back with specialized equipment. \n\n\nFuck if I was going to pass up an opportunity to bust a lab to rescue some zonked out daughter of a lonely woman. The prize for that was way to high. Plus, that kid is gone. \n\n\nRegardless of when I get her, she will wake up stupid as ever with a newly established mental link with her shaggy haired lover- unless he was a pet too. Which would be unfortunate for her. No matter how much they grow to hate each other, they will be stuck together until the melding wears off. So far, we aren’t quite sure how long that takes. \n\n\nUntil next time. \n\n\nEnd transmission…\n\n\nPush feed to net… \n\n\n\n--------------------------------\n\nEdit: I am actively adding to this. \n\n\nEdit: I think that I am going to keep this a one off for this post and am done editing for now. If you want to see a follow-up sub to /r/iswearimnotevil and I will post this when it is 100% done and start adding in a few days. ", "There I was, lookin’ out the window at my beautiful city. Now, Neo Trenton ain’t no paradise, feel me? But it’s got glamour man, freakin’ style I tell ya. So there I am, lookin’ out at the neon signs on so many big ass buildings. Same ones every night, never gets old. My personal favorite? Well that’s gotta be the one for the casino about a block away. Big ol’ sign, bright as blazes. A man could get a tan standin’ too close. It says ‘Come Hang at the Regal!’ and a neon lady shakes her goods underneath.\n\nWell anyhow, I’m at the office lookin’ out that ol’ window and this jive turkey comes rumblin’ down the hall. I hear him comin’ a mile away, small wonder he didn’t break right through the floor on the way through. I turned away from the window and I see this silhouette, big as an ox, on the other side of the mottled glass of my door. He knocks. So I reach under my desk and take the fusion-cell laser I have tucked up under there for a rainy day. I got a feelin’ it’s about to rain.\n\n“Come in.” I says. He do. \nNow, he sounded big comin’ and he looked mighty big as a shadow outside, but I’ll be damned if that didn’t do him justice. This brotha’ was biiiiiig! I mean like King Kong steal yo’ girl and climb a building big! Only thing bigger than him was the perfect ‘fro he was rockin’. Probly added another foot to him and I bet he was six and a half feet stark bald!\n\nSo I says something like “What’s good my man?” tryin’ to play it cool right? But this turkey is fresh out the flash-freeze. He looks at me and don’t say nothin’. So I axe him “You needin’ a PI or you just lookin’ to clap eyes on me?” Nothin’ man! Goddam brick wall walked up into my office that day! Came to a PI’s office when he was really lookin’ for a brick and mortar mason! So I’m holdin’ my breath, hand on the trigger ya know. Might have to turn this brick wall to goo in a hurry. Finally he speaks up.\n\n“You Jimmy Flash, Private Eye?”\n\n“That’s what it says on the door my man.” Still cool. Be cool.\n\n“I heard you got the fever.” His voice is shakin’ the whole room I tell ya!\n\n“I can break loose when I get on the floor if that’s what you tryin’ to say.”\n\nNow, I guess this is all he needs to hear from me, cause I guess I done offended him with my stylin’ moves down at the Regal. You know when they start playin’ them funky tunes I gots to get loose! Anyhow, this mountain in my office takes off his shades and eyes me up for real. He reaches up into his afro, yeah man right in it, and pulls out this little ol’ box. He sets it on the floor and, yeah you know what happened next, the thing starts flashin’ lights and jammin’ tunes. He’s got himself a portable disco-matic! \n\nHe done turned my office into a dance floor just like that. So the bass starts pumpin’ some real funky tune I ain’t never heard in my life and I’ll be damned if fly ladies and hip fellas didn’t start filin’ right through the door of my office! Summoned by that funky ass bass, no doubt. He looks at his posse, then back at me and says:\n\n“I’m here for your title as the funkiest brother alive.”\n\nPart II when I have time" ]	3
	[WP]You're living your life as normal when suddenly armed men burst through the door. "Your mission has failed, Agent, we're here to take you back to HQ"	[ "\"I, uh, just give-\" I stammered, slamming my laptop shut and grabbing my pants.\n\n\"There's no time, grab him. We need to get moving.\"\n\nI didn't know what to focus on first, the suited men in my bedroom or my belt. That choice was taken away from me though as I was dragged from the room and the world went black. Now I know my way around my house blindfolded and my room like the back of my hand, but the situation must have thrown those memories out. I was dragged to a corner and held whilst a whirring noise came from the wall. I was then pushed into a room I never knew existed. The blindfold was removed.\n\n\"Was that really necessary?\" I asked, shielding my eyes from the light.\n\n\"That might have felt like a few seconds Agent Noran but you've been out roughly,\" he paused to check his watch. \"Four days.\"\n\nMy eyes adjusted to the suit who had burst into my room to start this nightmare. A shaved head, sunglasses indoors and a jagged scar were all I needed to form some scary conclusions.\n\n\"My names George.\" I said, feeling like an idiot.\n\nSaid idiot was forced to sit down in the middle of the room. It looked like the cleanest cell imaginable with white walls, a white door and a too-white light shining down above me. I felt if heaven had a prison, it would look like this.\n\n\"George Conwell, born 1987 November 20th. We know who you are and you are not George Conwell.\" \n\nThe suit walked the few paces separating us and looked down at me.\n\n\"Agent Noran, it's time to come home.\"", "Life was going fine. Everything was finally on track. Sure I had been having some difficult at work over the past... I don't even remember now. But a long time I'm sure. my marriage was working. The were doing well in school. All of this came together for a perfect celebratory dinner. \n\nA lovely noodle dish that my wife always hate but I influenced the kids to love just so she had to make it for me.\n\nThis day couldn't be better.\n\nrrrrrrrrrrrrIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG\n\n\nit sliced the calm\n\n\nrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG\n\nIt seemed to insist to be know. \n\nTo be heard. \n\nMy wife handed it to me. \"They say you know who's calling, is everything alright?\"\n\n\"Umm... Hello this Dave? Who is this?\"\n\n\"It's over \"Dave\". meet us outside We'll be by in less than 3\"\n\n\\Click\\\n\nThe details for me are foggy from here. I think I said something to my family and the next thing I know I'm in a gray chamber\n\nThe label on my door said \"REINTEGRATION\"\n\n\"Agent, welcome back. I'm sorry about you installment but it wasn't going where the department needed it to go I'm sure you understand. We'll give you time before we reassign you. Your effects and money are at the front we'll contact you when it's time.\"\n\nWhat. \n\nWell they led me to the front gave me a large envelope and showed me the door. I don't know where I am. This city is so large. The envelope tells me I am Adam Smith and the. Oh my. $600,000. What have I done in my whole life to earn $600,000? \n\nwhat do I do with $600,000? do I just live my life? What exactly is my life? What do I... Who am I?", "\"Well, it's about time!\"\n\nThe squad commander looked confused. \"Er, uhm, does this mean you'll come with us peacefully, Sir?\"\n\n\"I've been waiting for you idiots to show up for years. What took you so long?\"\n\n\"Uh, well, I was given the directive to retrieve the assets, I mean, you, only a few hours ago, Sir. Director Henshaw--\"\n\n\"Oh god. That explains everything. Henshaw's in charge now? Imbeciles. What happened to Morris? Never mind. Your clearance probably isn't high enough for that. Let me grab my bags and we can go.\"\n\nI jotted down a quick note in my bedroom before grabbing my laptop bag. \"Sorry mom, won't be home for dinner. Love you. -J\"\n\nI pointed out a number of black duffel bags to the men and walked back to the living room and out the door. I threw my black laptop bag in the back of their black, unmarked van and climbed in to the back seat.\n\n-----\n\nA scowling face appeared when they took the blindfold off. Precautions. \"Well, well, look what the cat--\"\n\n\"Henshaw. Stuff it. What the fuck happened? Why did it take you so long to come get me? Where's Morris? Who the fuck decided that you were competent enough to do anything more than--\"\n\n\"That's enough.\" I whipped my head around to stare at the voice that appeared beside me.\n\n\"Morris! You're still here. Thank God. What happened to the Gödel Protocol?\"\n\n\"Glad to see you too, buddy. It's a long story. One that we don't have time for. What's your update?\"\n\n\"We need to burn them. We need to reboot.\"\n\n\"What? No. Do you know how much time this organization has invested in this?\"\n\n\"I know. But it didn't fucking work, just like I told you before we started. The world only does phases and fads now and ours is costing too much to keep it operational. We need to start over.\"\n\nMorris shook his head. \"All that time wasted.\"\n\n\"They're in the duffels. You wanna do it, or shall I?\"\n\nHenshaw chimed in, as if he wanted to make sure we knew he was still there. \"It'll be my pleasure.\" He walked to the back of the room where my stuff was sitting on a counter. He opened the first duffel and started to pull out electronic equipment.\n\nI grabbed Morris' arm as he turned away from me. \"I know you really cared about this, man, but it's for the best.\"\n\nMorris stopped and faced me. \"I should've listened to you from the beginning. I just didn't know how else to determine if there was a polynomial-time algorithm for generating a theorem proving procedure. No single man or organization has enough computational power to even determine if we can solve an NP-complete problem without testing every single solution. You know the implications of this for humanity.\"\n\n\"I know, but we need to reboot, and this time, don't do it with BitCoin.\"", "It must have been quite the sight, fork of instant noodles halfway to a slack-jawed mouth as I watched with a sheepish gaze as one after the other black suit stormed in. \n\n\"Did you hear me, Agent? We're pulling you out! Get a move on, chopper is eta 5 minutes!\"\n\nStupidly, I looked behind me to see if there was perhaps someone standing exactly behind me who did have a clue what was going on. Nope, Just a couple of the suits who were checking my kitchen for... terrorists? I returned my gaze to the head suit, who had clearly lost his patience years ago and was not even bothering to go and look for it. Head suit must have seen complete and total ignorance in my eyes as he pulled a sheet of paper from somewhere in his suit jacket. \n\nI could see the reflection in his Raybans. Atop the piece of paper was a picture, it looked a surprising amount like my latest passport photo where it looked like I had a thick moustache, with some red text stamped over it. He glanced back and forth between the picture and my face. I decided to close my mouth, so maybe he could see the lack of resemblance better.\n\n\"Agent Lenkman? Stephen Lenkman? Stephen with a ph?\"\n\nNope, he was definitely looking for me allright. I dropped my jaw again to make sure I conveyed my thoughts, or lack there of, on the situation.\n\n\"Agent Lenkman, you have been undercover for 17 years, some confusion is to be expected but now is not the time to hang around. You've been compromised and a hit squad may be heading here as we speak.\"\n\nA noise in the kitchen made me turn my head again. It seemed the suits had been content with the lack of, something, in my kitchen and were now noisily inspecting my supply of breakfast cereal and instant noodles. One of them was casually wiping a bowl, while another was sniffing the milk carton. \n\nA hand on my shoulder made me look back to head suit. He was leaning over me now, nose slightly wrinkeled. I guess my shirt was a tad smelly. I hadn't changed it yet this month, or even last month? Can't remember.\n\nHead suit was checking something on the paper that seemed like it had my picture on it. \n\n\"Agent Lenkman, clearance level 14, Delta segment, undercover ops\"\n\nNothing struck me familiar about that. \n\n\"Lenkman, your safety phrase is...\", he looked down on the paper for a moment and sighed before reading aloud \"Purple Pumpernickle Puppies are Pampered by Paupers\". I never thought it possible to pronounce capitalisation, but he seemed to be able to just fine. \n\n\"Purple. Pumpernickle. Puppies.... Are you even listening? What are you on, Lenkman?\"\n\nA crash from the kitchen made us both look. One of the suits was standing over a mess of cereal, milk and broken bowl looking at us with an apologetic grin. \n\nHead suit turned me around again. \n\n\"Lenkman, you're getting on that chopper. I don't care how elaborate your cover is and how you seem to cling to it for dear life. We need to move, Lenkman!\"\n \nHe signaled to the cereal suit and they both brusquely picked me up under my shoulders. I managed to grab my winter coat as they dragged me out through the hallway and out the destroyed front door. Standing in the street was a sleek, military looking helicopter. I hadn't even heard it land. \n\nHang on a second, this street is way too narrow for a helicopter to land, even one that looks as sleek as this one does. I looked up.\n\nYup, still the same street. Street lights intact and not utterly destroyed by a rotating helicopter blade. Windows unsmashed by ensuing debris. Street not a blaze of fire from the helicopter crash. Just a sleek, black chopper standing there being completely still and silent. \n\nHang on a sec, this helicopter doesn't even have blades, how did it take off in the first place? Let alone land here...\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted as a sharp prick underneath my ear made me look around. Cereal suit was standing a ways away helping himself from the box now. Head suit was holding a needle.\n\n\"Sorry Lenkman, but you seem awfully confused and I can't risk you doing anything unpredictable. A fuzzy, warm feeling started to spread it's way through my entire body. All the way down to my toes. No, not my toes. Toes remaining perfectly cold. I looked down as the fuzzyness had started to spread across my vision aswell. My woollen, mustard yellow socks were slightly darker at the tip. It seemed I was standing in a small puddle. \n\n\"Hey\" I uttered,\" I forgot my shlipp perzzzhsshshh\"\n\nI fell backwards as the blurryness now reduced my socks to a mustard yellow stain. My house passed in front of my vision. The house I had called home for the last 37 years. The house I had only left twice in the last 17 years. It would be the last time I ever saw it. \n\n____________________________________________________________________________________\n\nAaaaaargh!\n\nMy eyes shot open as the current raced through the wires attached to my temples. \n\n\"LENKMAN\" Head Suit bellowed, \"LOOK AT ME\". He turned the current off so I could at least relax a little in the straps. \"You stink, Lenkman. You have any idea how much a man's shit stinks when he's living on a diet of ramen and cereal?\"\n\nI tried to focus on Head Suit. Cereal Suit was standing discreetly by the door, trying to hide the packet of crisps in his pocket from which he occasionally chucked a handfull into his mouth. Every time the bag crackled, I felt sharp pangs in my head. The electricity didn't help aswell. Somehow, Cereal Suit kept drawing my gaze. It had always been like this. I couldn't concentrate for the life of me. Three tv's and still I spent most of my time staring out the window. I wonder if I would had seen the helicopter land if Cereal Suit hadn't dropped the ...\n\nA sharp pain across my left cheek reminded me that Head Suit was trying to get my attention. I returned my gaze to him. I could see my bloodshot eyes in his Raybans. I tried to focus on the reflection, but it kept swimming away from me. \n\n\"Lenkman? You ready to pay attention now?\"\n\nI finally succeeded to focus on a tiny scratch on his right lens. Head Suit seemed satisfied, or at least for as far as he could convey any emotion from the space between his shirt collar and his sunglasses. His nose was wrinkled again. I wondered why for a moment, but then my nose started working again. A combination of sweat, shit and some metallic, warm sensation. Probably blood. \n\n\"Lenkman, let's go over it again shall we? You are Agent Stephen Lenkman. You have been part of the Deep Cover programme for the last 17 years. You have been assigned to IREA, Intelligence Relay Extraction and Analysis. Your handler, Vaughn, handled your daily reports and supplied you with....\"\n\nCereal Suit chose this moment to grab some crisps. I guessed they were plain salt flavoured. They were a plain, potato colour. Maybe it was some cool flavour like cheese and onion. Yeah, Cereal Suit looked like cheese and onion type of guy. I noticed Head Suit had stopped talking and seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply from me. I quickly reverted my gaze to the tiny scratch. \n\n\"Well? Any of it ring a bell?\"\n\nHe sighed and walked over to the table in the middle of the room. It was one of those cool looking stainless steel tables like the one in The Matrix. And other movies aswell. A lot of movies actually. Seems like everyone in Hollywood knew where they sold those tables. But you can call seventeen Ikea's, including one in Göteborg, and a list of 14 other random furniture stores and noone seems to know what you're trying to find. Head suit looked tired. He started to rummage in a folder. \n\n\"Vaughn gave us the code mauve seventeen hours ago. His transmission was abruptly cut off. We then got word from the Paris branch that your code name and location had been spotted in an secret memo between OVAL cadre members. We then moved your case up to a code Purple. CISCO teams were able to run interference untill 11 hours ago when...\"\n\nWhat the hell colour was mauve again? From the sound of it, I suspected some weird type of red. I think the front door might have been mauve. Cereal Suit was at his crisps again, the crumbling from the bag got louder as it got emptier and emptier. Sharp pangs through my ears all the way through my brain. Bouncing around. Wait, I got it, Black pepper and Salt. Yeah, that's totally what Cereal Suit would enjoy for his crisps.\n\n\"LENKMAN, GOD DAMMIT, STAY THE FUCK WITH ME!\" Head Suit yelled exasparated.\n\nElectricity again. I strained against the straps. I could feel unconsciousness creeping back in like a teenager coming home late from the party. Trying to be subtle and cool, thinking's he's being quiet but still walking into tables and chairs as he drunkenly tries to make his way upstairs. The strap holding my forehead snapped and Head Suit took it as a signal to turn off the voltage. \n\nMy head drooped as I quietly soiled myself again. I felt fresh, warm shit crawling down my legs. Sleepy time...\n\n__________________________________________________________________________________________\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] write a romantic story about a man and his sex doll	[ "“Blow-Up Doll, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Blow-Up-Doll: the red of my cheeks flaring through puckered lips in acting out her name. Blow. Up. Doll. \n\nShe was Blow, blown up in the morning, crumpled in a heap four feet ten next to one crusty sock. She was my Dolly in slacks. She was Up, made up at school. She was $43.95 on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Blow-Up Doll. \n\nDid she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Blow-Up Doll at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial mannequin. In a malldom by the sea. \n\nOh when? About as many years before Blow-Up Doll was manufactured as my age was that summer. You can always count on a weeb for a fancy prose style. \n\nLadies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the normals, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged normals, envied. Look at this heap of plastic love.”", "Gary searched for years for her. Scouring online records and going through some of the seediest online forums just to find any lead. After months of pestering, and emptying a sizable chunk of his bank account, he finally convinced a collector of rare sex dolls to let her go. Gary hadn't been married in a long time. He met his previous wife when they were young. Stephanie had been a bit of a wild child but the way Gary pursued her in his sweet endearing ways had made her seriously consider settling down. Gary loved her so much, but as they say about young love, it rarely lasts. He lived alone now. It was cheaper and after what he and Stephanie went through, he needed cheap. He was waiting in his nearly barren apartment, listening for the doorbell while thinking of all the things he couldn't wait to do when the doll got here. He fell asleep in his chair to old records and with bottles around his feet as was the usual protocol for his nights. The next day he woke with a start and immediately ran to the door. It finally came. After all those years was the moment he was never sure would come. He opened it up slowly and carefully. Stella Starr was the name on the box. Gary thought it was a bit cheesy but he couldn't help but smile at the datedness of it all. Blew her up and took her to his bed. At first he just laid there crying. The last time he laid in this bed with someone was with Stephanie. He missed her. Her hair, her eyes, the way her body fit into his. What he missed probably most of all though was her personality. How even towards the end she kept that crazy smile on her face. Through everything life through at them. Through the period when her hair fell out, through the period when her eyes seemed to sink in and lose a bit more of that fire behind them everyday, through when she was in hospice and could no longer lay with her. That smile was always there. Always her. And the manufacturers did a damn good job recreating it. When Gary and Stephanie first started dating she always wowed him with the lively exciting experiences she's had. How she travelled to a foreign country she didn't know the native language of for a year and made friends for life. How she once warded off a grizzly who confronted her on a hunting trip. Even the more risqué things like how she did some \"special modeling\" for a \"special company\" a few months before she met Gary. When she passed away he tried to remember her life and not just her tragic journey to death. On a whim he checked the Internet to see if he could find some relics of her special modelling. That whim quickly turned into an obsession. Everyday spending hours online searching for obscure clues just so he could finally have this moment. And there he lay, with the perfect recreation of his wife. The hair, the eyes, even the way her body fit into his. He continued to cry, but he couldn't stop smiling. He had finally gotten his wish to hold her one last time. He held her for hours. Finally falling asleep as the sun peeked through the window, and finally doing it without having to black out drunk on whiskey and memories. \n\n\nEdit:I know format is bad I typed it out on mobile \n" ]	2
	[WP] Two super heroes are the best of friends when in costume, but keep their true identities hidden from each other for a long time. When they finally reveal themselves to each other, it turns out they've met in real life... and are not very fond of one another.	[ "The Muskox and Phantom Girl were ranked as Metro City's 29th and 34th best superheroes, respectively, according to last month's poll in Crimefighting Digest, but together they ranked as the #4 crimefighting duo in the city. They were up with the likes of Ventureman & Loftboy and Iron Lance & Sir Punchem. \n\nJust last week, they apprehended Metro City's 11th most wanted villain, Demon Fist, during one of his poorly planned bank heists. The Muskox stampeded in and subdued the second-rate henchmen, while Phantom Girl immobilized Demon Fist and his flaming hand with her telekinetic powers. Overall, it's wasn't too difficult of a mission, especially when they were working together. \n\nTheir unofficial partnership began about eight months ago, after a particularly rough battle against The Smasher. After taking down the Waldorf Building with his Fists of Fury, he was finally defeated when Phantom Girl used her cloaking powers so Muskox could sneak up behind the villain and deliver his signature knockout punch to the back of his head. Ever since that battle, they teamed up together whenever they could, fighting together three to four times a week, honing their villain-busting skills together, but never delving too far into their true identities. \n\nAfter all this time, neither had even seen the other without their mask on and divulging their secret identities was totally out of the question. That was until a late evening battle one Fourth of July against the villain Lieutenant Arson. \n\nIt was a long fight, spanning two counties, Muskox working east to stamp out the random fires started by the flame-obsessed maniac and Phantom Girl gliding through the trees tracking the well-camouflaged culprit from the north. They were able to corral Lieutenant Arson into the old quarry and once he lost his access to the flammable forest, he was swiftly defeated, but only after sending one rogue fireball into Phantom Girl's face, knocking her out of the sky. \n\nMuskox bolted over and caught her before she hit the rocks, her mask sparking and her dark purple hair singed, beginning to turn light blond at her roots. She opened her eyes, now her usual dark green rather than the deep violet she was able to change them to, and looked at the Muskox, panic in her face. She reached up and tore her mask off, hurling it down into the quarry pit, seconds before it exploded in a blinding flash of purple. She smoothed the now blond hair out of her face and he saw Phantom Girl's real face for the first time, a face he had seen a thousand times before. \n\n\"Janet?!\" Muskox asked, incensed. He instinctively took two steps back, his jaw dropping. Phantom Girl recognized his voice, that accusing inflection she was so familiar with and she jolted to her feet. \n\n\"Charles?! Is that you?!\" She asked angrily. \"You can't be serious! Take that damn mask off!!\" Muskox reached up, unclasped his enchanted mask, and pulled it off by its titanium horns. His deep ruby eyes faded to their usual light brown in the moonlight and his bulging muscles shrunk down to their normal size. He threw his mask on the ground with a loud clang and sighed, shaking his head.\n\n\"How could you not tell me you were Phantom Girl?!\" He asked, only harshness in his voice. \"I mean, we were married for three goddamn years!!\"\n\nJanet and Charles had met in college. She was working on her Ph.D in engineering and he had just started a Master's in Historical Artifacts. They were introduced by a mutual friend and for their first date, he took her to a documentary, \"The Life and Death of Captain Blaster.\" After the movie, they shared some mint chocolate chip ice cream and when they kissed for the first time, the taste of her lemon lip gloss lingered on his lips. \n\nThey had been dating seriously for five months when Janet had her lab accident that gave her the telekinetic powers, two days after they had gone canoeing on Lake Excelsior, when Charles first told Janet that he loved her. It wasn't until eight months later that Charles had received the magic amulet that afforded him his super strength from a late villain's estate sale. They married two years later, vowing themselves in sickness and in health, but never once mentioning their powers to one another. \n\n\"God Charles, you KNOW that I couldn't reveal my powers to you!\" She screamed. \"Rule Seven in the Hero Manual and you know that! Why didn't you ever tell me then?\"\n\n\"I was just trying to protect you!\" He exclaimed. \n\nShe rolled her eyes. \"Well, then great job back there with the fireball,\" she mocked. \n\nThey had never fought during their first two years of marriage. It wasn't until they started staying out late, fighting crime while the other person sat at home waiting over cold dinner, that things began to dissolve between them. When he came home with bruises he couldn't explain, she suspected that his father's alcoholism finally caught up to him. And when she was gone all night, explaining that she had fallen asleep in her lab after a long project, but was nowhere to be found when he tried to surprise her there with dinner, he grew frustrated. And they both suspected that the other secretly had feelings for someone else, which was partially true. As Janet and Charles spent less and less time together, Phantom Girl and Muskox grew closer, fighting villains long into the night, trusting each other with their lives. \n\n\"So all the sneaking around back then, that was this?\" He motioned to her costume. \"There wasn't some other guy you were seeing behind my back?\" He asked, a twinge of relief in his voice. \n\n\"There wasn't anyone else. It was just..\" She raised her open palm to his glowing mask in the dirt, \"It was just him... You. All of this, this life. You know how it is.\" Her face started to blush at his intense gaze. She shrugged and his face softened. \n\nCharles looked down and kicked a small rock from under his foot, feeling embarrassed.\n\n\"Do you want to go bring this guy into the police station and then maybe get some drinks together?\" He pointed to the unconscious villain lying in the dirt and then took a step closer to Janet. She reached up, brushed the debris out of his beard, and set her hand on his chest. \n\n\"How about some ice cream instead?\" She suggested. \"I could go for some mint chocolate chip goodness and maybe an ice pack.\" He smiled at her, feeling her warm hand over his heart. \n\n\"Absolutely. Let's go, partner,\" he said, reaching out his rough hand to her. She grasped it surely, her eyes briefly flickering violet in the moonlight, as they moved on together, hand in hand, one less secret between them. \n", "The two men stood in the center of Herculean's incredibly well-decorated and spacious penthouse. Neither was wearing his respective costume. They stared at one another's mask-less faces. Both beloved heroes attempted to process the situation.\n\n\"I can't even...\"\n\nHerculean was completely in shock. He recognized Giga Byte, and he knew he hated the person behind the mask. It took a few minutes for either men to speak up again. They stared at one another in silence until Giga Byte let out a sigh.\n\n\"So,\" he said, pausing as though to prevent himself from saying anything harsh. \"Where do we go from here, Herculean?\"\n\nHerculean clenched his fists. Through gritted teeth, he replied, \"I think we better part ways now.\"\n\n\"Or what?\" asked Giga Byte. He couldn't help but smile. Herculean carried himself like he was the strongest man ever, but Giga Byte had enough advanced weaponry that Herculean wasn't a threat whatsoever to him. Or so he assumed.\n\nHerculean spat on the ground. The spit was very close to Giga Byte's shoes.\n\n\"Be glad that didn't hit me,\" said Giga Byte.\n\n\"Boys, can we please relax?\" Lumen asked.\n\nBoth men had forgotten she was in the room with them. They had been so intensely staring at each other that they completely disregarded the petite heroin a few feet away. Herculean turned to Lumen and said, \"We've taken off our masks. Why don't you do the same?\"\n\n\"I never agreed to,\" she responded. She pressed a hand against her face as though to feel and ensure her mask was still there.\n\nGiga Byte was enraged. He remembered Herculean really well. A part of him wanted to pull out his gun and put several bullets through Herculean's skull, but Giga Byte knew bullets would just bounce off the big, muscular man in front of him. Giga Byte had seen it happen before.\n\n\"You're an asshole!\" Giga Byte shouted.\n\nHerculean let out a loud laugh. He wiped his right eye, exaggerating tears of laughter that weren't really there.\n\n\"I'm an asshole, huh?\" asked Herculean. \"I'm pretty sure you're the asshole here, Giga. Or should I call you 'Patrick'?\"\n\n\"Don't call me by my government name, Dick,\" Giga barked. \"Or should I call you... Well, never mind. Your parents already named you Dick!\"\n\nLumen begged the two men to calm down, but Herculean couldn't handle his parents being mentioned in any conversation. Giga Byte knew this. He'd done research on the multi-millionaire Dick Sparkles before, especially after their initial meeting that dark, dreadful night that caused each man to hate the other's true identity.\n\nOf course, that was before Giga Byte knew Herculean's true identity.\n\n\"Oh, you're so mad,\" Giga Byte teased. \"What? You gonna tell mommy I mocked you? Oh, wait. I'm sorry. I forgot your parents are dead!\"\n\nThat was it. Herculean couldn't hold back his rage anymore. Within the blink of an eye, he lunged for Giga Byte's throat. Giga tried to grab for his utilities belt, but there was nothing there. Shit, Giga Byte thought. I left my belt in the car!\n\nAs Herculean continued to strangle the life out of Giga Byte, Lumen jumped on the giant man's back and tried to pry his arms apart. It was all to no avail.\n\nWithin a matter of seconds, Giga Byte's lifeless body fell to the ground. Herculean reached behind him and pulled Lumen off. He dropped her on the ground and then walked over to a chair across the room to take a seat.\n\nLumen cried softly. Giga Byte may have been a douche, but he was a great super hero. He prevented so many assassinations... It wasn't fair.\n\nHerculean stared at Giga Byte's corpse. A sense of despair and guilt fell over him.\n\n\"What have I done?\" he said. \"I can't believe I just killed him...\"\n\nLumen looked up at Herculean. \"You're a monster!\" she screamed. Herculean could feel rage building over himself again. He clenched his chair's front legs and bent them in an instance.\n\n\"Nobody calls me a monster,\" he angrily announced. \"That was dad's nickname for me!\"\n\n\"Fuck your dad, Dick!\" Lumen shouted.\n\nHerculean stormed towards Lumen in a fit of rage, but she let out a blinding ray of light. Herculean crashed into a wall and fell. He grasped and swung around him in case Lumen was near by, but he felt nothing more than air.\n\n\"You fucking bitch! I'm blind!\" Herculean yelled.\n\nLumen sent a shock wave towards Herculean. It paralyzed him. As his vision slowly returned, Herculean saw Lumen standing over him.\n\nWith her mask off.\n\n\"You!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lumen said. \"Me.\"\n\nThey glared at each other. Herculean wanted to kill Lumen. He recognized her from the coffeehouse where he and Giga Byte originally met without their super hero costumes. The same coffeehouse interaction that caused the two men to hate each other's true identities so.\n\n\"You have many questions, but I don't have time for answers,\" Lumen said.\n\n\"I just want to know why. Why the fuck did you do it?\" Herculean begged. He was still paralyzed, but his fingers moving slightly meant his movement was slowly returning. It was just a matter of biding time for the paralysis to completely subside, then he could murder this barista bitch.\n\n\"So it's my fault, huh?\" asked Lumen. She paced the room a bit. \"It's my fault you two prideful fucks fought over me?\"\n\n\"Over you?!\" Herculean yelled in disbelief. \"Can you be any more conceited, you fucking bitch?!\"\n\n\"If not me, then who?\"\n\n\"Not who, but what, stupid. You said the next customer would receive the last 50 cent discount for the cappuccino,\" Herculean said.\n\nLumen was taken aback. \"Wait... What? No... You killed Giga Byte... Y-y-you killed him... over a discount? You're a billionaire. Why would you... Why?! Why'd you kill him for a 50 cent discount on a $4 coffee?!\"\n\nHerculean regained his movement. He bolted forward and began strangling Lumen. She again used bright light to momentarily blind Herculean, but he didn't loosen his grip.\n\nShe could feel herself dying. The panic made her attempt every power she had, but the lack of oxygen to her brain caused her to paralyze Herculean, which only made it so he couldn't loosen his grip even if he wanted.\n\nJust before she breathed out her last breath, Herculean whispered, \"I'm not a billionaire. I'm only worth $999 million. I just forgot my debit card that day and had $3.50, so that 50 cent discount meant more to me than you'll ever know.\"" ]	2
	[WP] I said, "I Love you," and she screamed.	[ "We had been fighting. We had been fighting about God knows what this time and it was taking a toll on us. The stress and tension was so bad that my hair hurt. I could feel my head tingling and my face tightening. How this became the norm in our life, who knows, but I couldn't stand being in the apartment anymore. The hurt feelings that hung in the air and the salt from the tears that stained her face crippled my resolve to stay. I said “lets go for a walk and get some fresh air. We can clear our heads.” She agreed and slowly wiped her face. \nIt was mid afternoon and the spring sun felt great. Today was a warm beautiful day and being away from the stuffy apartment is exactly what we needed. Tempers cooled down a little and we just walked and talked. It had been a while since we were able to just talk. The past few months every time we spoke to each other it was through gritted teeth and raised voices. At this point our neighbors must think fighting is our hobby and the only way we know how to communicate. The first time you say something that you can't take back is shocking. When it becomes the norm it just feels good to get it off your chest. I wonder how much the people downstairs have heard. They must think we are despicable people. \nIts been rough few months. You hate the new area and can not find a job you like. Making friends has been difficult and you've been lonely and bored. Someone as driven and motivated as your self, not having a purpose is crushing to the soul. The boredom starts eating at you and you feel like a failure in every sense. \nMaking friends for me, as it always is, is easy and natural. I know you don't mean to be, but I can sense your jealousy as I continue to progress. I liked the new area and adapted to the change easily. Eventually your jealously turned to hate. You wouldn't tell me, but I saw it in your face. I am not sure why you wouldn't come out and tell me, but I tell you hated me. Every time you looked at me, it was the only thing on your face. Bitter hate in almost every look. Even when you were trying to be nice, it was the only emotion I saw in your eyes. I could hear the spire in your voice even when we were doing simple things. Last night when we had dinner, you sat across from me and looked at me. The anger in your eyes was so bad I had to look away. I had to look down. I had to look anywhere but your face. You blamed me as if it was my fault you weren't achieving what you were used to. \nWalking felt great. We walked and made small talk. You told me about the park you found and how much you enjoyed walking there while I was at work. You smiled for the first time in a long time and when I saw you smile, I realized how long it had been since I told you I loved you. The fighting, my schedule, the stress. All of it was just excuses of why I have been so bad to you lately. I thought this is my opportunity to turn it around. In this shared moment I realized I wanted to reconnect with you. I wanted what we always had. We can pull through. \nI said it. “I love you.” You just stared at me either in surprise, disbelief, or disgust. I could not tell why your reaction was the way it was, but you just stared at me while your eyes furrowed and anger flashed across your face. You screamed “You love me? This would be so much easier if you were just fucking the neighbor.” You slapped me as if loving you had become a crime that I committed specifically to hurt you. \n“What the fuck are you talking about” I asked?\nYour only response was “I am leaving.” I tried to interject, but you just whispered “to little to late” as you turned around and walked away. “I love you” I said softly as I watched you walk away from me. “I love you” ", "It started when we were in high school. She was the redhead cheerleader with green eyes, somebody's dream girl, not popular but typically not a loser. I was quiet, moody, not really anything to look at or admire. I sat near the back of the room in class, she was in the middle but close to the front. Her name was Lydia Harleston and in those days, she would become my one and only.\nBut maybe I'm getting a little too rushing. Let me begin on the afternoon of October 7th, 2005. It was another Friday afternoon at Sendrick Regional High School and we were all just about ready to pick up our stuff, go to our lockers and enjoy our weekend. It was sixth period English in room 207 and that day's topic was...wait for it....Love, Peace and Conflict. Ugh, somebody shoot me.\nMrs. Rayn, our English teacher, was a very peculiar character with large, frizzy blond hair who wore glasses and an assorted range of patterned shirts, shawls and long 60's-style skirts. \n\nMrs. Rayn said \"So on this beautiful day, we're going to be discussing love, peace and conflict within the literature we've read so far this semester as well as novels we've read outside of class. Does anyone want to begin our discussion?\"\n\nKristen Melford, a blonde and short girl, raised her hand reluctantly. She was one of those artsy types who made sculptures, paintings and sketches just for fun. Her clique-sorry, I mean crew-actually had a pool betting on what art school would accept her first. But I digress. Back to what you really want to hear.\n\nKristen answered \"Well, we read Romeo and Juliet last month and I found it interesting that Romeo and Juliet tried to find love with all the conflict between their families. I mean, the Friar mainly wanted them together not only because he thought they were right for each other but because he wanted peace to occur between the two families.\"\n\nLydia said \"Yeah and the two definitely seemed right for each other. Romeo actually had the courage to confess his love to Juliet and to strive for her hand in marriage despite everything that they were going through at the time.\"\n\nMaureen Farrell, a brunette tomboy, replied curtly \"But Romeo only fell in love with Juliet because he went to the ball trying to find his original crush, Juliet's cousin who turned out to be a nun. If Romeo had found Rosaline or some other girl at the ball rather than Juliet, it'd be an entirely different story.\"\n\nI said gruffly \"Not to mention that Romeo did it in secret which meant he knew the consequences of what would happen if he did it in public. He'd get his head cut off by Tybalt.\"\n\nMost of my classmates looked surprised that I even spoke, Lydia included. I wasn't joking when I said I was quiet. \n\nMrs. Rayn raised her hands and asked \"Why don't we focus mainly on the positives of the love, peace and conflict rather than the negatives?\"\n\nStu smirked and answered in a taunting manner \"What would be the point in that, Mrs. Rayn? After all, conflict's always negative so why not focus on it?\"\n\nStu Yangis had been my best friend for years, whether out of lack of choice, out of common interests or out of necessity is something that nobody knows, not even us. He was a bit of a troublemaker but he also had a sense of humor and a rebellious streak that I witnessed in action several times.\n\nKristen said \"Do you always have to be such a jerk, Yangis?\"\n\nStu replied \"Do you always have to be such a prude, Melford? Or is it just in your hipster family's blood?\"\n\nI snorted while Lydia rolled her eyes at Stu's antics. She wasn't a fan of him but I'd say 70-75 percent of the class wasn't. Maybe that's what made him all the more entertaining. He was the minority in a group of the majority and didn't care.\n\n(to be continued)\n\n" ]	2
It can be a real person or a fictional one.	[WP] Write a poem about someone's death.	[ "Quiet paces across the cold linoleum floor, poking her head around the corners of each doorjam. \n\nAlone in the dark, silence engulfs her mind. It's blissful and serene, as if her thoughts are blind. \n\nFully clothed, geared for the harsh Winter winds, she steps outside and breathes deep. \n\nThis is the end.\n\nOf her thoughts, her failures, her pain. \n\nThere's practically a skip in her step as she makes her way down the street. \n\nA smile graces her face when she reaches the overpass. \n\nThe one where she held hands with her boyfriend, walked over with her best friends, where she took pictures of the cars passing underneath. \n\nThe overpass where she climbed to the top, and jumped. \n", "He bounded, jumped, and danced\n\"You're 20, start acting your age\" she would say\nBut he didn't move anymore\nHe was deadly still\nTerrifyingly silent\nHe was stagnant, just like she wanted him to be\nBut not like this\nShe spiraled into a panic\nThe doctors voices sounded like car alarms\nThe beeping shattered the sounds\nHe sunk deeper and deeper\n\"Wake up!\" She screamed\nHe didn't make a move\nHe didn't make a sound \nHe was finally ready\nBut the light at the end of the tunnel was the fires of hell\nHe fell down\n\"This is all just a horrible nightmare!\" A familiar voice rang\nHe felt his body fading, turning into dust\nUntil he hit the ground with an echoing thud scattering everywhere \nCold, sterile air filled his lungs.\nHe saw her, and the doctors working feverishly to keep him there\nThey told him he had flatlined\nBut they were able to revive him\nThe day he left the hospital with her\nHe made a promise to himself\nTo never act his age\n\n", "Two years ago, I lost a friend.\n\nTwo years from then, I realized what I had really lost.\n\n_____________________________________________\n\nHe was an obnoxious individual\n\nOf many useless words and nonsense.\n\nHis obsessions led to his social expense,\n\nBoundless debts that were abysmal. \n\n__________________________________\n\nI heard he was getting much better,\n\nI hadn't seen him after I moved.\n\nMaybe he'd be a little more \"smarter.\"\n\nDeep down I really hoped. \n\n_____________________________________\n\nTwo years ago, I lost a friend.\n\nTwo years from then, I'm left with the memories of someone who had changed. \n\nNever to be updated, never to be truthfully altered. \n\nI can hear what you had to say about him,\n\nBut it's just not firsthand. \n\n\n", "Pill bottles and a failed marriage\nThat fail to realize I'm not listening\n67 can be a brutal age when you've been trying to die\nSince 22.\n\nEmotions have subsided \nand I'm left with a void\nflashes remind me of who I was but somehow\nI don't believe it.\n\nI never loved which brings me to wonder\nwhy I'm loved, someone is insane and it might be me\nbut I suspect both sides are equally equipped\nfor madness.\n\nThe dog wanders into the room with pill bottle in mouth\nI think he wants me to know that I need this\nbut He doesn't need me but he sticks around \nand even someone as soulless as myself can appreciate\nthe dog's inclinations.\n\nThe dog is more human than I\nFor how human is a killer with dead gooks from\nthe 69 campaign on mind.\n\nFor a time I was god but\nI suppose that my time is up and now someone else is playing god\nfor I know the time is nigh, a learned ability\nfrom my time as the destroyer of worlds.\n\nYes, I feel it.\nThe dog drops the pill bottle in front of me and \nI know it's time but, alas, I feel hesitant\nperhaps because part of me is mortal\njust as those who were cut down by my M16\non a trail of hamburger hill.\n\nThe jets are coming and the smoke has been popped only this time I didn't pop the smoke, it must be the other god in the forest who\nis unrelenting with their criticism of my decision to destroy then create which\nis why I've decided to destroy before they.\n\nI empty the pill bottle and the dog smiles for \nI've made my final autonomous decision and the last 7 minutes of consciousness \nare glorious as nightfalls on my body, soul, and universe.\n\nA glorious ball of fire shines down one last time on my bones,\nleaving me to reminisce of napalm and an agent by the name of orange,\nsuch devastation is rarely this poetic or beautiful.", "It Won’t Happen to Me\n\nI remember sitting on cold bleachers,\n\nlistening to some guy with a collared shirt\n\ntalking about his ‘horrible mistake’\n\nand how many people he hurt and blah blah blah\n\nuntil it became background noise as I kicked dirt off my shoes.\n\nI knew it wouldn’t happen to me.\n\n.\n\nI remember loud pounding music, like a heartbeat,\n\nand feeling alive and excited and slightly nauseous,\n\nbumping up against strangers—or friends? Could be friends,\n\nI don’t remember, so it must have been awesome—\n\nand I wasn’t afraid, or even nervous. I was only alive \n\nin a spinning world because here,\n\nI was in control, \n\nhere,\n\nI made the rules,\n\nhere,\n\nAnd nothing mattered but here, \n\nso nothing could happen to me.\n\n.\n\nI remember it in a cycle,\n\nBlurred lights, laughter, some fights,\n\nhangovers, pulsing music, crazy pictures, tons of fun\n\none day, the next, the next, and again, and again,\n\nand \n\nnothing happened to me.\n\n.\n\nI remember only a little of the night\n\nwhen the road swam in my vision,\n\nlike it sometimes did,\n\nand streetlights—or car lights?—flashed by \n\nlike paparazzi cameras catching my high.\n\nIt made me laugh, which made the ground dance,\n\nAnd I saw a light was red.\n\nStrange color for paparazzi.\n\nAs was the blinding silver streak.\n\nThere was crashing sounds, the scream of metal,\n\nmaybe not metal,\n\nand I slammed my head on the steering wheel,\n\nfell out a twisted door more dizzy than ever before, \n\nconfused; the loud noises of the crash gave way to \n\nSilence.\n\nLike death.\n\n.\n\nI remember seeing a redheaded girl encased in silver\n\nonly, they tell me she was blond,\n\nI remember more flashes of light,\n\nblinding, confusing lights,\n\nred-white-blue-white-red-blue-red-red-red\n\nstrobe lights from hell,\n\nand silence killed by a wailing song \n\nand shouting crowds.\n\nI don’t remember much,\n\nhow they cut her from the car,\n\nand the car out of her,\n\nhow they pulled up the white sheet\n\nand it turned red as it touched her,\n\nIt all blurred like it wasn’t happening, \n\nand I don’t remember much.\n\n.\n\nI hate myself for that; I hate myself more \n\nfor my relief that I can’t recall.\n\nBut most of all I hate myself \n\nbecause I was right;\n\nit didn’t happen to me." ]	5
	[WP] "Sir, I don't understand. Can you please explain to me how exactly a dog became President of the United States of America?"	[ "\"Sir, I do not understand. Can you please explain to me how exactly a dog became President of the United States of America?\" One of the many reporters pleaded on the front lawn of the White House. The Press Secretary stood silently, his mouth agape and unable to form a proper response. All his years in college and at work did not prepare him for this. \n\n\"N-No one knows. I wish I could answer you but I-\" He paused seeing off to the side, the new president. Wearing a suit jacket and donning the American Flag pin, the Golden Retriever president made its way to the podium. No one could remember what sort of things the president said during his campaign, as it has all became a mass mirage that no one could recall. It was as though the whole campaign was just a dream, that upon waking up, could not be remembered. Reguardless, the crowd of reporters silenced and stood in the presence of the new leader. \n\nPropping himself on two legs and leaning against the podium, the president was finally ready to explain himself. The world seemed to be holding its breathe, on edge and fully prepared to take in every word the Leader of the 1st World was about to say. \n\n\"Bow wow wow. Arf woof bow wow arf woof bow. Woof woof bow bow arf woof bow bow bow. Bark woof woof. Woof woof bark arf woof woof. Arf bark bark bow wow, woof woof arf bark. Woof woof woof bark woof woof. Bow wow woof woof arf woof. Arf arf bark woof bark woof woof. Bow wow arf bark. Woof woof woof, bark. Arf bark woof woof, bark woof woof...\" \n\nWhen the president finally stopped, the reporters all breathed a sigh of relief. \"Oh that makes sense.\" \"I get it now, okay.\" They all murmured to their colleagues, breaking into light smiles and giggles about how stupid they were to question the legitimacy of the new president. Finally, a senior reporter proclaimed, \"Hail to the Chief: President Richard P. Jackson Junior!!\" The reporters repeated and applauded. All of them seem to celebrate in good spirits as the president slunk off into the yard, where he defecated in triumph, surrounded by his bodyguards. " ]	1
	[WP] It snowed while you were at work and now you are becoming increasingly alarmed as you discover a set of footprints that appear to be headed strait to your secluded home.	[ "I saw these rabbit like and turtle-looking toe prints in the snow one old rainish and whiteish day. They swooped and spun and shimmered in the ground. I could feel the rainbowish colours of the prints. They followed me and closed inside of me. I could feel them taking me away from my happy little home in the middle of a snow-cloud and away into Bad Place. In Bad Place, there was a Mean Man\n\nMean Man was a devil. And he, he thought that footprints were bestish and goodish things that I should celebrate like a bird who flew up, up into the sky! We celebrated fondly and merrily and told stories of frogs who could not be turned into footish prints! 10 days we intercepted and swooped and talked and mumbled foolishly. Then Mean Man died of terrible arthritis and back pain! I wept and swept aways all of my footish prints and all was BAD. Some of them lizard friends made me feel happier and I ended up in an ocean cave. It was a new home! I had furniture and chairs and long kitchens and happily smelling lizard bowls! \n\nBut one day, the footish prints had come back and haunted me spookily! So spooky, I cried in shouting! Returning memories flew at me and punched me in ears and things. I said yes, take me to the grass. The grass had flamingos and birds of all shapes and colors and personalities! I looked at them and they had nothing to do everyday, Sadly the killed and hunted and hinted to frogs who were in the habit of making footish prints in the snows on Sumterday mornings!\n\nI told them, a frog such as like had encountered me at about 12 o clockish on Sumterday yesterday! Footish prints were its speciality. And we all rejoined together, and we gave ourselves Human Names. I was the Person and they were the People. And machines roared in steaming and they watched as clocks zoomed and beeped and meeped and flew. We looked and hunted for footish prints and screamed when we found them! So we could communicate not in a befuddling way! But then there was a moon and it lightning struck us badly and we went underground. There was no more hunting nor screaming I tell you! We were unhappy as little bumbling clams. And so I went back to the little home in the cloud-town.", "Working construction is hard work, but it pays enough to put food in my hands. Unless it snows. Odd jobs get me by in the winter, just barely. But its more than what a lot of other people can say in this damn city.\n\nThey of course sent us off early. Didn't want us getting hurt on the job, they said. If they cared so much about our welfare then why are we being left to wonder the cold streets. At least they paid us for the work we'd done so far. Just barely enough for me to buy gas for my car. I can feel the stuff swishing around in its container.\n\nI've got a nice place. Warms me in the winter, cools me in the summer. It's nice and secluded from the rest of the city. I decide to take a shortcut to my home, an old alleyway where the ground wasn't salted over or shoveled. As I trudge through the snow, I notice a set of footprints accompanying me through the alley. I look to the direction they're going. They're turning the corner, heading straight to my home. Why would anybody else go down this path?\n\nI start rushing forward to the corner, afraid of what I'll see as I turn around it.\n\nAs soon as I see it, the gallon of oil falls from my hand. My home, vandalized! The windows smashed in, the heater ripped out, the trunk busted open, the tires slashed, the engine in dented pieces! Everything, ruined!", "Snow flurries gently floated through the air outside, drifting where the breeze carried them. The boss decided to let us out a bit earlier, probably feeling sorry for me. I mean I had a car, I just enjoyed jogging into work every morning. I put on my parka and headed out into the cold.\n\nCold was really an understatement. The air was frigid today. It was only three miles home but it was going to be an uncomfortable walk. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and began the trek home.\n\nJohn, my husband, had the day off today I think. I rubbed my hands together to get warm and hugged myself to brace against the wind. I hope he had the fire going because I was going to be an ice cube soon.\n\nThe snow had really picked up leaving a clean smooth white layer all across the ground. That is why it was curious when I turned down my mile long driveway to see one set of footprints going towards my house. There was nothing but my house down this path.\n\nI started to walk faster home. The snow had really picked up and the wind was stinging my face as my mind raced. The footprints were about the same size as mine. Could John be cheating on me? I mean there was that one time, but it was so long ago. We recovered from that. John wouldn’t...would he?\n\nMy house appeared through the trees as I got closer. The snow had really started to come down now. I could barely make out the outline of the boot prints walking up to the front porch. I made my way up to the front door and slowly opened it. Creeping inside, I gently closed the door and snuck into the living room.\n\nI felt my heart sink. I could see their heads over the couch, as they cuddled in the warmth of the fire. I grabbed a cast iron skillet off the stove and walked up behind them slowly. John looked up at me in terror. I had caught him cheating on me again.\n\n“Who the fuck are you?!” John yelled in rage. “Melissa? I’m calling the police.”\n\nI brought the pan down on her head. There was a sickening crack, and she slumped over. John tackled me and held me down.\n“Angie are you okay honey? I swear to god if you killed my wife I will end you here myself!” John was screaming nonsense. I was his wife. John pulled out his cell phone to call the police while pinning me to the ground with his legs. I struggled to reach the pan while he was distracted.\n\nMy hand wrapped around the handle before bringing it to his temple knocking him off of me. John lay on the ground unconscious. I stood up and walked around the couch to see this bitch. It was the same one he had cheated on me with a year ago, and she wasn’t breathing.\n\nI spit on her before looking around the house. I couldn’t believe it! John had the nerve to replace all our pictures together with pictures of them. Sirens blared in the distance. When the police get here they will understand what happened." ]	3
Earth has no rotation relative to the sun. Thus, in the same way as our moon, earth has a dark side of eternal night, and a bright side of eternal day. We live on the bright side. Around the earth is a circle of dusk. This is where the outcasts live, a kind of pale untermensch that have formed their own societies. They tell stories and legends of what exists on the dark side, but no one really knows. A team of distinct characters, day-people that have never seen the night, has to venture into the realm of darkness on a quest to save the realm of light.	[WP] The earth has no rotation relative to the sun and we live on a hemisphere of endless daylight.	[ "The rig's engine roared. With an ear-splitting crack, its runners broke free of the two hours-worth of ice buildup while mechanics had made repairs. It slowly picked up speed, and the rest of the convoy fell into formation. The mission rolled on.\n\nPhillips closed his eyes and rubbed his temples until the nausea abated. He'd known there was a chance of freezing to death out here in the dark, thousands of miles from the sun. He'd read enough about \"winter\" to know to bring plenty of cold medicine, lip balm, multivitamins, tissues, and herbal tea. So far, though, simple motion sickness was making him miserable. At least Exxon-Mobil had paid handsomely to convince him (and a few rival geologists) to leave his cozy campus for an expedition into the ice continents.\n\nHe checked the map on his terminal, even though their coordinates seemed to have barely changed. The going was slow, but he knew it had to be done. The oil fields in warmer longitudes were nearly depleted. They'd left them behind weeks ago and were still hundreds of miles from the area he'd marked in red months ago. It had seemed so simple in front of the execs in an air-conditioned conference room. Every night as he rolled around in his bunk trying to sleep, he'd gone over all his research in his head, second-guessing all his calculations. Surely there had been something closer! Or at least farther from these horrible mountains. \n\nIt was hard to believe that, millions of years ago, this had been a tropical paradise, and his home the frozen wasteland. The only real evidence lay deep beneath the ice and rock. Obviously, they couldn't wait for the planet to finish the rest of the slow rotation, so it was up to him to find it. With any luck, before he lost any fingers or toes to frostbite. Or worse.", "Jonathan waited in the sunlight, praying to his god, /u/Mallepalli. The unbearably warm light beat on Jonathan's skin, but Jonathan had long ago learned to ignore the pain. /u/Mallepalli was the only thing that was important. For the first time in a hundred years, the god spoke.\n\n\"Jonathan.\" the voice was grand, harsh, and bright, perfectly embodying what it meant to be the Sun God.\n\nAwestuck, Jonathan did not speak.\n\n\"Jonathan, I have a quest for you,\" the god continued. \"You must go to the circle of dusk, where the outcasts live. You must go on a quest to save the light.\"\n\nJonathan found his voice. \"What quest, oh great /u/Mallepalli?\" he said.\n\n\"You must take a team of distinct characters, day-people that have never seen the night, to venture into the realm of darkness. They must go on a quest to save the realm of light.\"\n\nJonathan had only heard stories and legends of what existed on the dark side, but no one really knew. That wasn't really a relevant detail, since the dusk people lived in the dusky area and didn't visit the dark side at all.\n\n\"Go,\" /u/Mallepalli said.\n\n\"But wait! What quest? What must I do?\" Jonathan needed to know.\n\n\"You must go on a quest. I cannot tell you more.\" Jonathan could sense /u/Mallepalli's godly presence departing.\n\n-------\n\nJonathan began the long journey to completing the quest. He found a group of actors, all who played distinct characters, to go with him on his quest. He asked about the dusk people. What were they like? Did they eat sun-baked pizza? Was the dusky area foggy? Why wasn't their skin red and sun-burned? Okay, he didn't really need to ask the last one.\n\nBut the question Jonathan asked most, and the question that no one knew how to answer, was, what was the quest that the sun god wanted him to complete?\n\n-------\n\nJonathan visited the dusk people, and was entirely surprised to discover that they had formed their own societies. The idea had never entered his mind. If someone else had written the story, they might have had a single society, unified with the telepathy abilities that only emerged when one was kept from the sun for an extended period of time. But the rarely seen god /u/Mallepalli, had seen fit to structure the societies of the untermensch in that way. No other god was permitted to tamper with the Grand Structure of the universe.\n\n-------\n\nAttempting to complete the quest, the actors performed many skits for the dusk people. The dusk people initially rejected them, but eventually warmed to the bizarre sun worshippers who wanted merely to entertain them. After weeks of travelling and performing, Jonathan declared the quest completed. They travelled home, secure in the knowledge that the world of the light was saved.\n\n-------\n\nIt was such a pity that Jonathan didn't attempt to discover how the dusk people managed to survive with so little sunlight. And a pity that he never attempted to explore the dark side of their little planet. And such a pity that he never discovered the secret of surviving without sunlight.\n\nFor when the sun went out months later, the sun people were entirely unprepared. They died within weeks.\n\nThe End.\n\n-------\n\nI would like to thank /u/Mallepalli for the prompt, and for inspiring me to finally post a story on this subreddit. Thank you, and please forgive me for making fun of you." ]	2
	[WP]It's time I spoke of it... This is my confession...	[ "I have never been this nervous in my entire life. I could feel the sweat slowly dripping down my face. It was all or nothing, my entire career had led up to this moment. I never thought the day would come where I would have to say this. But I've been backed into a corner and I have no choice.\n\n\" My confession is that I'm guilty of the worst crime imaginable, guilty of caring too much for my city. Guilty of caring for all the people that live within it. Guilty of being tired of letting our people live in fear. I'm not the person this city deserves but I'm the one it needs. My confession ladies and gentlemen is that I, Bruce Wayne, am the Batman\n\n", "I'll always remember the first time I ever did it. The slightly stale taste. The crunch as I bit into it. The prominence of the memory though, comes from the feeling of extreme satisfaction as I chewed. I was only a teenager that first time. \n\nOver the years I continued. The process became a bit harder with age. I couldn't move the way I used to be able to. It made things much more difficult to reach. \n\nWhen friends or family mentioned the act I froze and shot wary glances at the people around me. Did they know? Would they tell? \n\nMy paranoia drove me from interacting. There was so much fear day in and day out that someone would find out. That one day they would call me for what I am. A monster. \n\nI sit here now, having just finished my nightly ritual and writing in my journal. The remains that I spat out sitting in the kitchen trash can. The first step is to admit you have a problem right? So I'll finally put my addiction down on paper. May the world never find out about my deep, dark secret. \n\nEvery single night since I was a teenage boy I've curled up on the bed......and chewed off my toe nails. ", "The first time I held you, I was full of fear. They had promised me something magical, some combination of wonder and love like nothing else I would ever experience. \nSomehow you cheated me even of that, nasty rabbity thing that you were. \nYour skin was translucent as melted wax, the tick-tock of your pulse blue and insistent at your throat and temples. It throbbed your stubborn aliveness through my fingers in a warm Morse code, a communication just between us, but not the kind that was promised. There was accusation in it even then - or perhaps that was just distortion from the postnatal hormones roaring through my body. But no - you opened your glaring eyes and you stuck me through with hateful pins. \nI felt their stab, I did, I know I did. \nI didn't want you, and you knew it from that first touch. So perhaps then, all of this was all my fault. I've read that children are blank slates, waiting for us to inscribe with our own half-scribbled-out mistakes. \nWhen your infant tongue began to babble through those long, dark nights, when the words crystallised in the curls of my sleep-deprived brain so clear and sharp, were those vicious descriptions of demons by my hand, yours, or one unseen? \nYou fed me more secret messages as you grew, so cunningly encoded in those crayoned lines. Yellow sun the judgemental eye, never closing, always staring over some crude representation of our house. Green grass the creeping acid of your hate for me. You thought I didn't know what you were trying to tell me, but I did. I decoded every one. They're all here in the right order now, all around your bed, and spelling out the truth so that everyone will see what you are. \nYou're sleeping now, and for once you're so blessedly quiet. Your skin is translucent as melted wax, congealing beneath my fingertips. Your cursed pulse is not transmitting any staccato threats. I will sit in peace and wait for them to come. I'll finally tell them about you properly. I can do that, now there's such a beautiful silence.\n\n\n", "“I need a hammer.” I told the young man who came up to ask what I was doing in his section. \n\n“What are you trying to do?” His teenage voice cracked as he pressed the question. \n\n“I’m trying to buy a hammer. Where do you keep your hammers?” I was annoyed. This side task was meant to relax me, keeping my mind off what the next day would bring. \n\n“They are over in isle 7 sir. I can show you-“I cut him off, “No, thank you I know what I need.” I was probably less considerate than I had to be to the boy, but he didn’t exist to me right now. \n\nThis hardware store did have an impressive selection of hammers. I needed a heavy one. Ideally it would have a short handle, wide face and a backside for chipping. \n\nWhen I was still working, I could have borrowed a jack hammer from work and done the job in an hour. It never seemed important enough to get around to though; there was always other work to be done. \n\nI considered using my 20lb sledge hammer. That would make it significantly easier. However I felt that getting on my hands and knees, swinging away with one hand wrapped around a 4lb mini sledge all morning would be somewhat therapeutic. \n\nAs I left the store I was in a better mood than I had been for a while, there was a goal to achieve now. Pointless busy work, but it would be tough and I could build a small garden in my back yard where that small concrete pad currently laid. \n\nI threw the hammer, shovel and other supplies in my trunk and started off toward my next stop, the daily liquor run. \n\nI didn’t like drinking before. The dull, detached feeling never had appealed to me personally. \n\nEspecially considering the line of work I was in at the time. Get up early to go push your body, in dangerous conditions… Alcohol doesn’t mix with that. \nHowever, after what happened… I have to admit that being drunk does have its “Pro’s”. \n\nWhen I got to the liquor store I was surprised that the teller asked me for I.D. I’ve been going there daily for year and he knows my name, yet he I.D’s me… \nThere was just one more stop to make before I got lost in my work. The tailor… I remember wishing I could have started drinking right then, but I did have some control. Or so I thought… \n\nOnce I was out of the shop with my expensive new suit, I set it in the back seat with one hand as I reached for the whiskey bottle with the other. I had half-finished it by the time I got home. \n\nOh well, the project can wait I figured. \n\nI ended up sleeping through the rest of the day, and most of the night. I woke early however and I had a strange energy in me, this was the day. So I made some strong coffee and showered before preparing to put an end to the ordeal. \nI hate wearing suits; even the well-tailored one I bought for the occasion was itchy and uncomfortable. \n\nSome occasions call for this type of attire however… Try to imagine me walking into the courtroom on that day in my old sweats and large black T shirt. I would prefer that, why should I bother hiding my real feelings? Well, it wouldn’t look right. \n\nOn this particularly sunny September day, a nice brighter colored suit was mandatory for the occasion. The more festive colors of this one were more to my taste than the black one I had to buy the previous year. \n\nYou have to look good for these types of mile stones. \nNot for yourself, but for the people watching. \nYou have to keep your composure and leave the proper impression on all involved. \nNow that it had been in the news cycle I was a celebrity of sorts, and even if it was for the wrong reasons I would still play the part. \nThere was no good in coming across to everyone like a vengeful drunk every night at five o’clock as they watched the news and ate their suppers. \n\nIt was all a formality at this point, after months of coming in and out of that court house things grew clearer, more certain. I was finally able to sleep through the night again. \n\nI only had to play my role a little longer; once this was done perhaps the grief would start to fade with its memory. I doubted it, but I had to hope. \nAfter a few hours of rehashing everything the jury stood up and marched single file into another room to put an end to this farce. \n\n15 minutes later they returned. I remember a twinge of panic in my mind; I washed it out by convincing myself that it was as clear cut as I saw it. Obviously they wouldn’t take long to decide, even considering the circumstances… \n\n“Not guilty.” \nTime stopped as he said it and I was left hanging there in the void until the gavel slammed and my new reality washed over me. \n\nHow? NOT GUILTY!? There are mountains of evidence… What about the gasoline in his car, on his clothes? What about the wire they found on him did that mean nothing? It was the same thin rusty spool which had bound my sister to that chair! They found his semen, it was a positive DNA match! Officer Erickson testified that he caught Robert trying to flee the scene, does his word mean nothing? \n\nThe thoughts rushed through my mind and panic rose in my chest. This wasn’t right. \n\nIt was a technicality, Robert’s uncle was a famous attorney in town and he had found some loophole, apparently Erickson’s word was less that worthless and everything else was wrapped up with a nice little rusty wire bow. \n\nI remember thinking I was deaf for a moment, just for a moment. Then I heard the cheers… Cheers from Roberts’s friends and family, screams celebrating the way this insect fled justice. \n\nHe actually had the nerve to look at me and smile. A disgusting, limey smile full of teeth I wanted to knock out. \n\nIf I hadn’t know in the back of my mind this was possible, I may have lost my composure right there and ruined it all. I never actually believed he would escape his life sentence, but it was possible. \n\nI knew if that was to be the case then I would have to take up the role of Judge, Jury and Executioner. \n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] She's the quietest girl in class. One day, you approach her and attempt to start a conversation.	[ "Samantha Jones...\n\nShe's the prettiest girl in the world in my eyes. Short, curly brown hair going down to just above her shoulders. She herself is fairly short, I think she's only a little over five foot even. Her brown eyes are gorgeous, and she can even make the school uniform look glamorous and sexy. I just had only one thing in the back of my mind, I need to know the answer to this so bad I can't even...\n\nWhat does she sound like?\n\nShe's silent... Drop-dead silent. Not even joking, you could hear a pin-drop around her. Nobody could ever get a peep out of her. Given, not many people have talked to her, but still.\n\nToday was the day, though. Today was the day that I would muster up all of the courage that I had to go over and talk to her. Just walking up to her during break was difficult. I found her in her usual place, outside by the lone oak tree. She was enjoying her lunch, one bite at a time. So I thought, since I had received a pep talk before hand, I might as well give it my best shot.\n\nI slowly approached her. She didn't notice me at first, but after clearing my throat a few times, she jumped slightly and looked up from her lunch.\n\nDeep breath... \"H-hey Samantha...\" I couldn't help but stutter a little, it's hard to communicate with a girl that you fancy.\n\nIt was hardly noticeable, but Samantha raised a hand slightly and gave it a wave. It might have just been me, but she looked a little red, herself.\n\n\"Well... How are you...?\" My pauses were too long and too frequent, but she shrugged her shoulders the same way she did when anyone asked her how she was. \n\nDeep breath... This should be easy, but I just can't do it. He said that if I would just speak my mind, everything would work out just fine. There was only one thing I could do now.\n\n\"You... You're pretty amazing, you know that?\"\n\nNo response.\n\n\"Y-you're awesome, and well, I...\"\n\nNo response.\n\n\"I guess I really like y--\"\n\nShe... Jumped on me.\n\nI thought I was pinned to the ground or something, complete shock was all that I could feel or think about. I was just on the ground here, tackled by Samantha Jones, now what?!\n\nI looked up at her, she had me in a full embrace. She was smiling, not her usual smile with just a curl of the lip. This was a full, genuine smile, her perfect white teeth, her gorgeous ruby lips...\n\nEventually, she backed off and I sat up, only for her to hug me again. I couldn't see her face, but she was laughing...\n\n\"Samantha...?\"\n\nI felt something on my shoulder... She was crying...\n\n\"Samantha? What's wrong?\"\n\nSamantha just looked at me, she was really crying. Her cheeks were red and I saw tear after tear cascading down her face.\n\nShe then started laughing, a mix of laughter and sobs came from her before she was finally able to wipe the tears from her eyes.\n\n\"N-\"\n\nShe was going to do it... She was going to speak... I would finally know the sound of her voice.\n\n\"Nobody r-r-really ever t-t-talks to m-me... Y-you ch-chose to t-t-t-talk to m-m-me. Th-thank you...\"\n\nHer voice was shaky, but there was a certain charm to it. Like a delicate wind chime made of glass, in the right conditions, it sang a harmonious tune, in others, it was silent.\n\n\"I.. I really, really l-l-l-li-li-l-like you to...\" Then she buried her face in my shoulder and continued to cry tears of joy.", "Okay, today, I'll make her talk. And we will sit at the big table in the lunchroom all alone, discussing arts, literature, and music. Our love will blossom into a mighty family tree, under the branches of which we will lovingly raise our offspring. Our children will be educated classically, learning the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and Voltaire before the unintellectual drivel that our current compulsory education system teaches to cater to the lowest common denominator. Okay, here we go. Back straight, eyes ahead, voice unwavering.\n\n\"Hey, wanna eat lunch toget-\"\n\nShe looks up at me and time sits still. Her eyes meet mine and I can feel the fire of our passion already forming a vortex that will soon carry us beyond the horizon of human love and compassion. Surely, this is the moment I will look back on and remember fondly on my deathbed. \n\n\"Fuck off, Neck beard.\"\n\n" ]	2
Solos, duets, ensemble pieces. Any period of history. Anything goes!	[WP] All of earth's history is now a musical. These are the lyrics to the show-stopping number.	[ "Flora and fauna, potted plants and fake animals, litter the stage with great areas of dust and cardboard cut outs of buildings. The stage, a grand colosseum yet empty, only mirrors in the audience. Only Humanity, a snow white woman, with hair blonde hanging down passed, and covering, her nipples. She starts kneeling. Moonlight is all that glows, she is immersed in twilight. A light violin note plays, as it rises Humanity rises too. Light fills the colosseum. Standing straight, the melody of the violin rises and falls with Humanity's voice. \n\nHome. Is where I stand. On the precipice of destruction.\nI will fight until the end.\nI have built the world around me, in ways not even I. Understand.\nThe violin fades.\nYet the continued majesty of each of my creations,\nIs not nearly justification, to induce in those resignations,\nTo give in to that savage idealisastion\nTo-\n\nHer voice takes on a demonic roar similar to the death screams of heavy metal artists. \n\nKILL THAT BITCH\n\nAn orchestra of metal bands, all in unison begin shredding. \n\nAll this shit can just step aside!\nThese trees are just fuel for my eternal fire!\nCRUCIFY MYSELF IN THIS BURNING PYRE!\nTASTE THE FLESH FRESH FROM THESE ANIMALS!\nKILL EVERYT..hnnng\n\nThe metal halts. Her voice returns to normal, but she is mad. A raging piano duo follows her like an army.\n\nI WILL NOT LET THE WORLD BURN!\nNo matter what the cost,\nI. Will. Not. Let. The world, DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE\n\nThe metal resumes, more metal than ever. \n\nNOTHING. CAN STOP. THE METAL\n\nGrabbing a flamethrower from behind a fake bush Humanity struts around the stage, in a belting chest voice that never breaks its pitch. \n\nFlame will rise. I choose my own destuction.\n\nShe starts setting fire to all flora and fauna. The metal slows to let the vocals shine.\n\nIn the ashes of my reign. This kingdom, I do claim.\nIts not enough. Its not enough.\n\nHolding the last note, she walks to all side of the colloseum grabbing nuclear warheads and wheeling them to the centre. She hold the note for several more seconds and ends. The metal stops and then resumes as she screams.\n\nI NEED A BIGGER STAGE\n\nHolding the scream she grabs a detonator from behind another bush.\n\nDIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...Enough!\n\nA violent string quartet sound the metal to a stop. The quartet begin to fade. Humanity in a whisper.\n\nEnough.\n\nTaking a knife from behind a bush, Humanity slices her own throat. The live broadcast camera rises from the colosseum as it goes dark. Zooming out more and more. Many dark stages can be seen. The camera start to pan towards a new stage.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're sitting in class and you ask the teacher if you can use the restroom. They allow you to use it, you leave your seat to use the restroom. When you return from the restroom you enter the classroom startled,because you see yourself sitting at your desk.	[ "I opened the classroom door, and walked inside. I was at the first row of seats before I realized that I had already come back from the bathroom. \n\nWait what?\n\nIt seemed impossible but there I was. He was? I slowly backed up a out of the front row and stopped only when I felt the door behind me. \n\nHe was taking off brown zip up hoody, it had black fake fur in the hood. It wasn't similar to the one I was wearing, it was the same jacket. He had the same black hair I did, it was styled the same way too. Sure his hair wasn't styled exactly the same. That would be impossible. But it was damn close. Same clothes. He looked exactly like me. He set his blue backpack right next to the one that was already there by the desk.\n\nHe coughed.\n\nI coughed.\n\nWe sounded the exact same. \nThat got people's attention. I couldn't remember seeing even a real life double take, much less the quintuple take that most of the people in that room made look as genuine and comedic as anything I'd ever seen. I almost laughed. \nAlmost.\n\nIt was at that exact moment that I had my first clean headed thought since I opened the door to that classroom.\n\nRUN!\n\nI doubled over in pain. It was so loud. I felt like it was echoing around in my skull, getting louder with each reverberation. I turned, still doubled over and opened the door with my shoulder and ran down the hallway. The speakers all toned at once, it continued on and I ran faster. Lockdown.\n\nMy heart hammered as I heard door locks click into place as I ran by. \n\nWhat was happening? Who was that in my chair? \n\nI ran right into the school's security officer. He grabbed me and pulled me behind a wall. He stood me against the wall, holding my arms so I couldn't escape.\n\"It's okay, it's okay.\" He repeated. \n\nI stopped struggling. There was no point. He outweighed me and somehow I remembered what I knew about him even in my frenzied state. \n\nFranklin McCain. Sgt. Franklin McCain. 42 years old. Honorably discharged 5 years ago. Walked with a bad limp in his right leg. 6’2” 240 lbs.\n\n\"Did you see them? How many are there?\" He asked. \n\nSo stupid. He doesn't know what the intruders look like. And I look like a student. A very specific student that he has seen before, even at a big school. \n\n\"Yes. I only saw one.\" I said. I had to buy myself some time.\n\n\"What did they look like?\" He asked.\n\n\"Young enough to be mistaken for a student, dark hair, longer than mine. White guy.\"\n\n\"Copy. Go that way,\" He pointed behind him, \"Find an empty classroom and lock the door. Stay there until you hear the all clear.\" He said peaking around the corner to look back the way I came.\n\n\"Yes sir.\" I said.\n\n\"Go now,\" He said, and disappeared around the corner. To find me.\n\nI went to my right and out a set of exterior doors into the courtyard. \n\"That was slick.\" A voice said from beside the door.\nI must have jumped 6 feet in the air.\n\nIt was a girl. She was shortish, with messy red hair, wearing a waist length leather jacket and tight fitting jeans. \n\"You bought us some time. Let's go.\" She said pushing herself off the wall.\n\n\"Wait what?\" \n\n\"You're running right? Or do you want to stay around and find out why there's another you in there.\" She said without turning around.\n\n\"What? Stop, please. What's happening?\"\n\n\"Nope. No stops. I can explain, but I won't stop.\"\n\nI hesitated. \"How do you know what's happening to me?\"\n\n\"No stops.\" She called back louder.\n\nI jogged to catch up with her. \n\"If I'm in so much trouble, why are we still walking?\" I asked.\n\n\"You're only in trouble if they catch you and start asking questions.\" She took a breath. \"And we're walking because I don't want anyone asking additional questions about why we're running.\" She said.\n\n\"Fuck, are you crazy? Do you know what happens at a high school during an intruder lockdown?\" I asked. \n\nShe stopped. She stared at me with absolutely no emotion or recognition in her eyes for about 2 seconds.\n\n\"Fuck.\" She broke into a run.\n\n\"Wait, where are we going?\" I called as I tried to keep up with her.\n\n\n\"Out. And keep up. You can.\" She said. It didn't even sound like she was out of breath.\n\n\nSo I ran harder, and found out she was wrong. I could not keep up. She was waiting for me at every corner as we sprinted through down the walkways in between buildings. We got to the place in between the science building and the history building. She was waiting by a grate covering a manhole.\n\n\n\"Where now?\" I gasped.\n\n\nIn responses she lifted the heavy manhole covering. With one hand.\n\n\n\"Whoa,\" I said articulately. I couldn't remember ever just freezing up when talking to a pretty girl, but I had nothing.\n\n\n\"Get in,\" she said, still holding the grate. She was just holding it, out away from her even, like the possibility of getting muck on her jacket was more of a bother than holding the large piece of metal. \n\n\n\"Wait, is this really necessary?\" I asked.\n\n\nShe took a breath and paused. \"Listen, when question time comes up here, and it will, how do you think things will go for the imposter?\" She asked.\n\n\n\"How should I know... wait, are you suggesting.\"\n\n\n\"Not suggesting, telling.\" She interrupted. \"In.\"\n\n\nThis is where I wake up right? I half asked myself. But I didn't wake up, and she didn't drop that impossibly heavy grate. But the part that really scared me, I almost believed her. Seriously was I doubting whether or not I was really me?\n\n\nThat's when I heard the sirens.\n\n\n\"Last chance,\" she said. Then added, \"It'll be okay, I promise.\" She looked genuinely sympathetic. \nI stepped down the manhole without another word. I kept feeling for a ladder step with my foot until I hit the ground.\n\n\n\"Ow,\" I moaned. \n\"Move.\"\n\n\nI rolled out of the way. I didn't fall far, there wasn't quite enough space to stand up in whatever this was.\n\n\nShe dropped the grate in place, hanging from the rungs and dropped down once I was out of the way.\n\n\n\"Can we talk now?\" I asked.\n\n\n\"Almost, trust me a little longer. You'll want time after I start answering questions. This way.\"\nThat scared me. \n\n\nI followed her down the tunnel, not paying much attention. My mind raced and I got nowhere. This must be some fucked up dream. We went down another manhole and went from old steam tunnels to sewers. We followed them long enough I thought about asking the dumbest question I could think of. Are we there yet?\n\n\nIt was about then I saw light at the end of the tunnel and she stopped.\n\"Ask.\" She said simply.\n\n\nMy mind blanked again. Where do I even start? \"Who are you?\" I asked\n\n\n\"Evelyn.\" \n\n\n\"Okay. Evelyn, what is happening?\"\n\n\n\"Let me ask you, what is the first thing you remember today?\"\n\n\n\"Opening the door.\" I shot back quickly. “I don’t know what’s…” I trailed off. I couldn’t remember anything before opening the classroom door.\n\n\nShe smiled.", "The teacher was talking about math, or something. I wasn't really paying attention. All I could think of was how badly I had to pee. She hated when she was interrupted to use the restroom. It was almost impossible to get a bathroom pass from her. \n\nI raised my hand as the need grew to an unbearable peak. She ignored my hand for a moment then with an exasperated sigh motioned towards me.\n\n\"Yes, Taylor?\" she said putting a hand against her hip. Obviously she was irritated, she wasn't a fan of questions being asked either. I assumed it was because she loved the sound of her own voice.\n\n\"Can I use the restroom?\" I asked. I saw her eyes roll as she reached for the red painted wooden plank that was attached her desk. Scratched onto it's sides was \"bathroom pass\". She held it out.\n\n\"5 minutes,\" she said looking at the clock. I glanced at the clock but, I didn't really take in the time. I took the pass from her hands and ran out into the hall. Racing to the nearest bathroom, I thought for sure I was gonna wet myself!\n\nI left the bathroom and headed back for the classroom. I didn't run this time, I knew I had plenty of time to get back. As I went to open the door of the classroom I noticed that her red pass was still hanging off the side of her desk. The pass I had in my hands. Looking further in there I was. Sitting at my desk, obviously not paying attention.\n\nStupefied I stood staring in at myself. A few moments later my hand went up. The scene that had occurred minutes ago repeated. I moved out of sight as past me opened the door and flew out of the door and down the hall.\n\nI waited a few minutes than opened the door and entered the classroom. The teacher looked surprised that I was back so quickly. She took the pass from my hand and I went back to my seat. I sat down and stared at the glass pane above the door for the entirety of the class period.\n\nHad I just traveled through time?", "\"Nope.\" John said to himself, turning away from the door to take another loop around the hall. This would be the third time he did so, but luckily no one had seemed to notice.\n\nAnother pass, and he stopped at the door's window, staring at an angle into the classroom. The other John was staring back this time. He looked...\n\n\"Nope.\" John walked away again. That smile was pure fucking evil- no way jose, he was not walking in on that motherfucker. \"Nope, nope, nope,\" he muttered quietly as his shoes clapped along the floor of the tiled halls with soft echoes.\n\nSee, this was the perfect horror movie situation. John had seen plenty of horror movies in his time, from zombies to vampires, to the weird supernatural ones. He knew the deal as Hollywood portrayed it, and going into that classroom was the perfect stupid horror movie circumstance. John wasn't an idiot. He'd seen enough to know that would be a very, very bad idea.\n\nHe did another loop, glancing into the classroom. The other him was grinning, deviously. Oh, it knew he knew... it was anticipating how he would act, how he would deal with it.\n\nWell, then it was going to be extremely disappointed. If that thing thought John was going into that classroom- well it had another thing coming. The hell with that. What did it think, that John was stupid?\n\n\"Nope. Not happening.\" Another loop.\n\nJohn felt in his pocket, assessing his options. A pen, a folded piece of scrap paper, a tiny pocket knife... his wallet, keys... not much of a doppelganger combat load-out. Still, he had to try to plan this whole thing. Acting on a whim was a bad plan.\n\nHe could wait until class was over, maybe try and corner the thing... Maybe. It obviously knew the jig was up. Maybe it had expected him to just walk in without noticing?\n\nIn that case, maybe only he could see it, and then calling it out would seem crazy- and then it would disappear and strike when John was least expecting. Horror movie cliches, he was pulling from several... no, he had to be smart. Hire an exorcist?\n\nWell that actually never seemed to work out in the movies either. That actually had an extremely poor track record. No he'd need to rule that out.\n\nHe could try to kill it, but for all he knew that would just land his ass in prison or something equally tragic. For all he knew it might just kill him instead, and that wasn't worth the gamble at all.\n\nNo, even after all this, he could only see one real option.\n\n\"Fuck it.\" John growled as he walked out the side door and jogged to his car in the senior class parking lot. \"I'll just transfer.\"" ]	3
	[WP] A 'world war' starts on a giant colony spaceship on its journey to a habitable planet.	[ "Shaobub rubbed the card on his Elder necklace worriedly as he walked. The scouts had returned from the staerburd with nothing but bad news - every module, from the food factories in Messe to the speaking walls of Libraville, stank of death. \n\nTwelve hundred of the great Chernese tribe wiped out, without so much as a cracklecomm. And the massacre was gradually spreading towards the townships of the great white halls, where thousands of his people huddled in fear. Above them towered the great metal spheres, whose vault-like doors every boy attacked for three days as a rite of passage on their manhood day. How much he wished he could open those doors today, and the tribe could find safety in their iron bellies. \n\nBut Shaobub could only think of one thing to do now, one final hope. Hellbrijj. The place of the Elder ritual.\n\nEvery new Elder would learn the words of passing, and at their succession ceremony, invoke them upon the blinking red lights of the entrance to Hellbrijj. And for generations immemorial, the voice would reply,'Deneyed.' And then the wailing ritual would begin.\n\nBut this was the last recourse, his only option, and so he hurried his weary old legs along the last few corridors.\n\nTurning the final corner, there stood the closed doors, like so many others in the world. Approaching, his trembling hand lifted the card at the end of the chain, and pressed it firmly against the blinking red light.\n\n'Secoor eye dee four eight three.'\n\nMoments passed, his heart shaking against his rib cage. \n\n'Deneyed.'\n\nFailure. There was no hope. His body collapsed to the floor in a heap and he began to sob, his heart filled with total sorrow... when. Suddenly, he heard a loud tone pulse from the door. The light turned green. It had worked! It had worked!!!\n\nThe door opened, and Shaobub gazed where none of his civilisation had ever before. And there was a person. A human. A god? Behind him, a room full of speaking walls, and more people, their excited chatter reverberating around the chamber. \n\nThe one in the door reached out to him, with a metal square in his hand. A gift? Shaobub reached back out, his arm outstretched, as the figure pointed the square towards him. \n\n.............\n\n> COMM OPEN\n> SEND FILE\n\n- - - TRANSMISSION - - -\n\n.............\n\n- Mission leader\n- Entry 12 \n- Journey AL 45270\n\nFifty eight days to landfall. The genpop pods have begun to wake up.\n\nAs Russbloc counter-agent Petr identified, Sinobloc had hacked the system for early thaw, to 'sanitize' the habitation pods and re-chill. Our countermeasures were successful, and they were unable to access secure areas. \n\nWhen we woke, after almost half a cent-mill, they had devolved into a retrograde sub-civ. As per orders, we cycled the oxygen, and also decommed one who was trying to access the bridge with the old code. \n\nNasty business, but if you start a war, you have to face the consequences.", "Shaun choked back the vomit as he stepped over another corpse. Any sound he made now would mean his end. But the the dead woman's face captured him, and for a moment he looked into her open eyes and imagined what her life may have been twenty years ago. She was probably a working mother back on Earth, living a normal life until the migration. Surely she had never dreamed she would breathe her last as a soldier in a war forty trillion miles from her home. As Shaun gazed at her limp body lying there in the black circle of her dried blood, he knew he'd be next if he faltered. This was as far as he'd ever been into the neutral zone. Guards weren't supposed to come this far, but Shaun had been plotting this strike for weeks. The enemy scout he was trailing brought him dangerously close to Deceiver territory, closer than he'd been in the eight months of the conflict.\n\n All hell had broken loose in year twelve on the Xirang. Even before the announcement that sparked the war, the Mutineer clans had organized and loosely marked their territory. In a last-ditch effort to bring them back into the fold, the Deceivers openly admitted what the Mutineers had suspected for years: The Xirang didn't have a destination. The utopia they had been promised was a lie. Gliese 667Cc could never be habitable, and the vessel was never designed to make it there. The announcement didn't work as intended. The infighting among the Mutineers abruptly stopped as the clans united under one goal: to overthrow the authority that had tricked and abused them. Initially the rebels only held 12 of the 64 environments. But they also had more engineers and tradesmen on their side. Eight months and eight campaigns later, 31 environments were under Mutineer control.\n\nShaun stealthily darted around the hulking debris that filled the neutral zone. Giant pieces of machines used in the first battle were scattered among fallen remnants of the artificial landscape. As he quietly trailed the enemy scout through the maze of metal, Shaun considered the glory at stake if his rogue plan succeeded. Single-handedly winning two environments could gain him a lieutenant rank overnight. Everyone would know him as the boy who tipped the balance of power. The girls back home in East-Five would fawn over him at every sighting. If he could just pass as a defector long enough to reach his cousin in Central-Forty, he knew he could sway him to the cause. Then he just needed to gain access to the reactor and run his hack to take it hostage. All ten-thousand citizens of Environment 40 and 41 would be at his mercy.\n\n\"Red five, report,\" a voice crackled over the enemy scout's com.\n\n\"Charges have been placed, No suspicious activity,\" the scout responded.\n\nThe com crackled again, \"OK, we've only got three days to the assault. We'll put another set of charges out tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Roger that.\"\n\nAll of Shaun's gusto curdled in an instant. Three days to the assault? They must be planning an offensive! His mind raced. The Deceiver factions had yet to mount a successful offense on the Mutineers. Charges in the neutral zone? But that would.. that would compromise the hull... The truth knocked the wind out of him. That would kill us all. \n\nSuddenly Shaun's scheme seemed insignificant. His hopes of glory would have to wait. The clans must be warned! From his crouched position under a tangle of cables, he looked back the way he had come and reached for his com. A Deceiver guard towered over him. Shaun stared up the barrel of the gun.\n\n\"Welcome to hell.\"", "The Hermes is one of the flagship Colony ships of the Galactic Collective. It has completed dozens of colonizing missions. Currently it is home to several hundreds of thousands of colonists. The Captain of the ship has just lost contact with the drone he had possessed. The Hermes awaits its officers' orders--it lays on the outskirts of its target system--the system in which its temporary inhabitants will soon call home, where the colonists' descendants will continue to multiply until the feeble colony is yet another branch, another tendril, of the Galactic Collective's growing influence. Indeed the system in which the Hermes rests on its borders is only one of many Galactic Collective colonizing fronts--a colonizing front that is considered a relatively easy mission, given the data on the system determined it has yet to be inhabited. A simple matter of unpack and settle down is how these missions normally go. However the Hermes is equipped for anything, and as a flagship, it has seen its fair share of battles. Little to anyone's knowledge, the system has already been colonized by an as yet unknown alien civilization, however stranger still, the hostile alien civilization is in fact human. Regardless, the Captain must ensure the survival of the colonists on his ship and ensure his victory.\n\n\"Captain! Data continues to pour in from all over the system! Our network of drones have secured a steady stream of which my team is analyzing.\" Discov, the Intelligence Division Lieutenant bursts into the bridge.\n\n\"Lieutenant, I want that data on my vis-display!\"\n\n\"Yes sir!\" The Lieutenant barks as he presses a series of on screen commands on his Personal External Communicator's vis-display.\n\nThe Captain is sitting in his Captain's chair that is positioned in the middle of the bridge. He pulls the vis-display to a comfortable reading position, the malleable glass material bending to his will. He slaps the display with a palm and the vis-display instantly flattens and becomes flush at a bend. Soon the Captain's vis-display flashes images of real time drone activity around the system but slowly one by one the drones' visual data feeds abruptly disconnect with static.\n\n\"Discov! Prepare more scout drones and notify me when they are ready to go. But for right now, please connect me to Lieutenant Astarte via mind to mind.\"\n\n\"You heard the man, people. Get Lieutenant Astarte on mind to mind.\" Discov shouts.\n\n\"Captain! What are your orders?\" A deep but feminine voice fills the Captain's waking mind.\n\n\"Go, Lieutenant Astarte! Send your crewmen to Sol-6. Send them to this civilization's largest fleet. Let's show this ignorant people who they are dealing with. We came here to complete a mission... I always complete my mission.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir!\"\n\nThe mind to mind connection severs and Lieutenant Astarte opens her eyes. She promptly gets to her feet to shout indiscriminately into the large room upon her, a room filled with rows of bunk beds.\n\n\"GET UP! To your battle stations!\"\n\nThe room abruptly comes to life. Men and women shuffle to and fro and the room empties until only Astarte remains. She holds out her left wrist in front of her and touches the clunky metal armband attached to it. It glows warmly and she proceeds to press a series of on-screen commands. The room begins to rumble around Astarte until she is violently whipped forward, however she maintains her composure even as the chair she was sitting on a moment ago moves forward, hitting her from behind. She grabs the chair and throws it at the wall to her side before leaving the room.\n\n---\n\nPART 2 below! :)", "What Should Have Been Left There.\n\nPART 1\n\nLike most, it started with a single shot.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIt was late at night, fifteen years ago. There was a small government outbuilding, in the Montana badlands, far from any city or road. Far from the glamorous research stations orbiting the Elliptical, or Spinward, on the inside of that colossal counterweight suspended over Cape Canaveral by exotic orbital gravities, mind-bogglingly hanging like a plumb bob of glass and shimmering ceramic, as if it were tied right to the arch of the sky.\n\nFar from everything, really. This station was not a priority. \n\nThat was about to change. \n\nIn three hours, there will be desperate phone calls, and heated words, and denial.\n\nThe lights were out inside, it was lit only by flickers of blue and green (the hallmarks of a budget VR system, the kind you might use for a sandwich shop window advertisement).\n\nRight now, it was showing numbers, to two researchers. They didn't have anyone at home waiting for them. One was a man, the other was a woman. Neither liked each other much.\n\nIn about a half-hour, they'd be making frenzied, desperate love on the lab table in the corner, the first of many attempted distractions.\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"No doubt. The HAARP II was built specifically for this. Gamma burst precursors.\"\n\n\"I... damn it. Damn. God-damn it.\" She bit her lip, and looked close to tears. \n\nThe man talked like a leaden puppet.\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah.\"\n\n\"Should... should we call command?\"\n\n\"No need. Their console is linked to ours. They're reading the same alert.\"\n\n\"We can save, what? A million? Two?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\n\"That's... Holy shit. A 99.9% fatality rate?\" She looked pale, a ghost, of someone who had just seen their murderer.\n\n\"More. Much more than that.\"\n\n\"That intense of a pulse... even a reactor wall wouldn't stop it...\" She chewed her nails, a childish habit that had taken this time to return.\n\n\"No.\" He showed his first expression, but it was strange, almost wistful. \"We'll have to leave. And tell our children about what Earth used to be.\"\n\n\"Then... there's nothing we can do?\"\n\n\"No.\" He said, calmly. \n\n(How odd, he reflected. Here, he had written a note, and bought the pills, but the Universe had decided to kill him off first. How odd, that now, he should feel like this, and at the same time, so wish to live.)\n\n\"So then, what do we do now!?\"\n\n\"We do what we have to, to live through tonight.\" He marveled at the simplicity of the thought. \n\nShe looked at him. He looked at her.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nThey were still sticky and sore, when the Generals called, and the politician's aides, and eventually, the roused politicians themselves. \n\nWith the tranquility of a falling stone, they repeated themselves. The galaxy had just loaded a gun, and, in five years, it would pull the trigger. A relativistic jet of Gamma Rays, the dying gasp of a star being crushed by a black hole some few light years away, would hit, and sterilize the planet. We'd choke on death, death we wouldn't be able to even feel, and die in horrible pain, some few days later.\n\nIt stayed a secret for three days. Until, tearfully, a high-ranking aide called for a press conference, and between blubbering gasps, and frantic attempts by G-men to cut the feed, he told the truth. \n\nHe'd brought a loaded gun, too. He brought it to his head.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIn the coming weeks, ammunition was scarce. The fires burned, and electricity flickered. There were pyres in the street, for the dead.\n\nWe cried, held each other, howling in the dark at the dome of night. We shook with pain and hunger. We cursed gods and men, and prayed to them, in shifts. \n\nAs ever, the gods stayed quiet.\n\nBut, after 90 days, Man answered.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nBlinking, shaking with weakness, we stepped out into the sun once again.\n\nOur savior's name was Rohini. She appeared on all of our monitors and radios, our telecasts, and told us of her plan.\n\n\"Many will die. I cannot stop that. But. maybe, I can save a few million. These are our last days. If you are sated with blood finally, and have tired of nihilistic oblivion, you can help us. Live for a reason. And at the end, I will promise you comfort.\"\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nThe plan was simple. Lash together the dismantled sections of the Elliptical ring, lashing them together like a bundle of sticks. Strap on every single derelict station, satellite, and functioning shuttle, into a massive hulking tangle of airlocks, passages, and capsules into something vaguely spaceworthy. \n\nThe question had always been propulsion. There was nothing that could provide the requisite energy to power the experimental M-Drive, that would provide that initial push while the ship was safely ensconced within a fold of dimensions. so the relativistic acceleration wouldn't vaporize it into glittering metal ions through sheer inertia. \n\nThis was the question that Dr. Rohini had provided the answer to.\n\n\"The radiation pulse itself. That which we flee from, will give us the power. We will only be able to capture a small fraction, less than a tenth of a tenth of a tenth, but-\"\n\nIt would work, the engineers said. That it left no room for error, went unsaid.\n\nIt also meant that those fortunate few, crewing our celestial salvation would be with their loved ones, up until the very instant of their death, and be torn apart, just as Damocles's sword descended, relativistic light effects turning the still-active comm links from video to paintings, frozen in the time slope. \n\nHow long would the crew stand transfixed before them, before they finally moved? Knowing that the last day of their families, their parents and children, would last, for them, for years?\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIn the thinness beyond the Spinward, unrest was growing.\n\nThere was a community here. Ten million strong. Laborers and scientists, who had shook gravity from their feet like snow, and had long abandoned the green shores and blue waves for the quiet glory of life in that black between it and the Moon.\n\nLiving out here came with a price. \n\nCalcium loss, as they grew tall, the gaps between their bones swelling, long-limbed, delicately boned. Cancer was rampant, even with the advances made in radiation shielding They didn't work ceaselessly in those complex astronaut gym rigs, designed to fight muscle atrophy: they had given up any thought of return. They went blind at 55, cataracts rendering their eyes useless. They ate by drinking from pouches, like spiders eating bugs. To a one, they were infertile. Their teeth frequently had little enamel left, as they fought acid reflux and constant vomiting.\n\nThey danced in comet dust. Laughed brightly, sang strange songs, and composed beautiful music, that made the metal hulls of their ships, those thin skins against the void, vibrate and resonate in time, an instrument unto itself. They moved like poetry. And each of them could do ten times the work of a bumbling astronaut dirt-sider, and do it better.\n\nAs the messages came through, and the scale of the Great Effort became clear, it dawned on these new humans what was being asked of them.\n\nWe were going to take their homes. They would die too, it was true, when the pulse arrived. But they had long ago made peace with a brief life, for the sake of a rich one...\n\nThe rumblings only grew louder, when they heard who we were going to ask to do the bulk of the space-side work.\n\nIt would waste too many resources to launch up more workers, obviously, and the space elevator needed to be dismantled first, as it would form the spine of the great ship.\n\n\"Do they expect us to simply float in space suits, then?\" they muttered. \"Just watch, as they float away?\"\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nOn Earth, the lottery was beginning. \n\nRiots began again, and accusations of corruption were levelled, as their fates became clear, and the impossible hope of last minute salvation vanished like ether on a hot sidewalk. \n\nThe pyres burned in the streets again, as people tossed their red gene-locked cryptopasses in, in a preemptive cremation.\n\nThe ships were only half built, and supply lines were being slowed.\n\nA press conference was called, with the most violent agitators invited to attend. Spitting and frothing, they heaped abuse on the lone figure of Dr. Rohini, who sat, with her head bowed, and her lips (like a broken-open fig) set in a thin line.\n\nWhen they inevitably stopped for breath, she simply reached into her lab pocket, and pulled out her own red cryptopass. She set it, damningly, on the table, in clear view of the gathered crowd and camera.\n\nThe agitators slinked away in shame. \n\nEventually, a few offered their places on the ship. She smiled, and shook her head.\n\n...\n\nProduction resumed.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "“Dammit Jim, I'm not a doctor! I can’t deal with this,” Carson yelled scrambling down the metal corridor, his shoes slid on the gore glazed floor and left frenzied red streaks in their path. \n\n\nFacing him, brows pulled high on my red spattered face, my hands flew up and out to the side in distressed exasperation. He shook his head at me and pressed a piece of fabric to the wounded man’s abdomen. \n\n\nThis was not how my father had planned any of this and now I was stuck in the crossfire.\n\n\nIn a distant wing of the EktosGaia, sirens rang out and the disorganized tapping of feet began to grow louder. The only thing working to drown out the cacophonous sound of war in crescendo, was the hollow internal thud of my rapidly beating heart. \n\n\nIf they found us here, we were dead.\n\n\n“Carson, you need to leave him. We have to go,” I shouted.\n\n\n---------------------------------\n\n\nIn November of 2047 it was revealed that the Earth’s more powerful countries had begun collaboratively working to produce a massive spacecraft. An interstellar vehicle capable of housing nearly two-thirds of the world’s population. The end goal being to jump ship, so to speak, and take up lodgings on a new, fresh, planet. \n\n\nThey called it EktosGaia and announced its existence in an international political panel along with, what was essentially, the Cliff's Notes version of the extensive journey plans in October of the following year. \n\n\nIn October 2049, one year from the date of the speech, my father and the other four project leaders, planned to load up as many people as they could and begin the journey to Terra Redux. Seeing as space was limited, the journey intentionally excluded a specific predefined segment of the population. Once take off day rolled around, the ship would board and remain divided by country, with the opportunity for distanced families to reconcile and live together. \n\n\nAside from that, people were to live in their assigned spaces. Reproduction was limited and jobs would be assigned based on your skillset. Life was designed to be simple. \n\n\nThe launch date came and things were going as planned. There were a few protests about the section of the population who were being left behind. Including the old, terminally ill, and mentally unstable. But, not wanting to be left behind themselves, the morally righteous gave in and boarded as well. \n\n\nThe first few years went as intended. The countries stayed mostly divided, people did their jobs, and the ship ran smoothly. Even the faux ecosystems, created by some of the world’s most talented scientists, were thriving. My father was praised as the creator of something great. A man who saved the world’s inhabitants from an untimely demise. \n\n\nYear Five, though, was different. \n\n\nIn Year Five, some of the lower class inhabitants started to realize the wealth gap. They noticed the discrepancy in services and the more lenient law enforcement for higher class citizens. Initially, it only resulted in peaceful protest. But as months went by and circumstances didn’t change, they began to rebel. \n\n\nSections of the ship meant only for those who performed what were considered “green level” tasks, or those in the immediately related to green workers, were being invaded by silver workers. Their week’s credit couldn’t afford extravagant dining or chances to visit the observation bubbles as was available to those working green level. So, they demanded equality.\n\n\nWith little understanding of the cause of the quarrel, my father stepped in. He tried to explain that there was no blatant discrimination. Children were tested at a young age to determine what jobs would suit them best, thus allowing advancement for all levels of working families. \n\n\nIn this meeting, questions about the old, sick, and second-born children of the silver, blue, and orange level families were brought up. My father did his best to divert their inquiries, but the seed of doubt had been planted.\n\n\nOver the next few months, people began to sneak around and observe the hidden inner workings of the ship and its higher ranking officials. \n\n\nWhat they found lead to, what could be considered, World War III. \n\n\n------------------------------------\n\n\n“Shit, shit, shit. Jim, he is going to die if we leave him! He’s our age. That could be us,” Carson rattled, hands shaking as he moved towards me, hesitating as his urges were torn between self-preservation and moral calling. \n\n\n“Yeah, well that will be us if you don’t move,” I replied before jogging down a side corridor and waving for him to follow. \n\n\nThe shouting was growing louder and louder, making me immensely concerned for our safety. Due to the fact that my father was the creator of the ship, and partially responsible for the planning of everything related, I managed to gain the hatred of all of the rebelling population. \n\n\nThey wanted to use me as leverage to show my father how it feels to have your loved ones simply discarded. \n\n\nMy father said that it had to be done. We had to thin out the population in order to maintain a balance of resources. The green level workers put in a great deal of effort to keep the ship and its occupants safe, so they were allowed more leeway. \n\n\n“I can see their footprints, they went this way,” a man yelled, leading the stampede of furious rebels in our direction. \n\n\nAs we turned, we realized that the corridor only led to a small room and the door had been sealed when the lockdown was called. Silently, Carson and I watched the shadows appear on the floor, soon replaced by the blood and sweat coated faces of animalistic men. \n\n\n“You and your people think that you can just eject our families? That you can put our children out like garbage just because they break your rules? Rules that you don’t even enforce for everyone on board.”\n\n\nDespite his obvious anger and ferocity, his brows wrinkled down and his lip quivered. Who had he lost? Who had my father, or his people, taken from this man? \n\n\n“No, I really don’t,” I replied, body quivering as I prepared to beg for mercy.\n", "One inch. Just one more inch was all he needed. He could see the man's boot from inside of the vent. All he needed was for the man to move one inch closer...\n\nAnd then it happened. Someone walked down the hallway, and the man shuffled backwards to accommodate them. It was time.\n\nThere wasn't even enough time for the man in the hallway to realize he was dead. One minute he was there, and the next, he was a corpse, falling awkwardly to the ground and collapsing with a metallic thud onto the cold, hard ground.\n\n\"Charge!\" shouted the man in the vent.\n\nAll throughout the 67th and 68th floors, his men burst out of the ventilation system and into the hallway. The battle was quick; most of the enemy guards fell as quickly as the first.\n\n\"Sir! We found the room!\"\n\nA soldier approached the man from the vent.\n\n\"It's just down this hallway. They've barricaded themselves in, but we already started drilling into the room.\"\n\nThe man nodded, and followed as the soldier led him to the room. It didn't look out of the ordinary by any means. The door didn't even look metal; the ship had fallen into disrepair since the war started, and a lot of things had to be replaced with whatever material was available.\n\nOn the surface, this door was oak wood. But scans had indicated that this room was more fortified than any other on the ship. Behind the door had been a hallway, but the men inside had activated the emergency procedures, blocking the hallway with twenty feet of titanium.\n\nIt only took a few days for the drill to get through. The men inside didn't even put up a fight; a few had died from dehydration, and the survivors were only hours away from death.\n\nThe man surveyed the room.\n\n\"This is it. The control room.\"\n\nThe men around him cheered, as the man turned the ship's navigation system back on.\n\n\"We're finally back on course.\"" ]	6
	[WP] "In the end, we left the Earth knowing nothing."	[ "It was heralded as the second great technological revolution, after the production of the first quantum transistors. \nArmed with what had been artfully dubbed Zentech, humanity began a transformation that had been dreamed of since the conception of cyberpunk and science fiction. Integrated circuits the size of human cells gave the potential for all sorts of medical and military applications - and within twenty years, disease had been completely eliminated from humanity. Armed with impregnable bodies filled with bundles of smart-cells integrated into our newly forged quantum control nodes, cancer was forgotten and the common cold died an ignominious death after thousands of years of dominance. \nBut it was just the beginning. \nThere was so much more for us to discover from there. \n\n&nbsp; \nAugments became the newest thrill for humanity; powered by Zentech people learned to tweak their own bodies, augmenting eyesight, strength, agility and speed. But these were simple applications - just low level 'hacking' of the human body. As the Ecological Crisis loomed and the Govcorps feuded for dominance over world resources, Zentech became the bridge for truly augmented humans; with the power of control at the cellular level, implants couldn't be rejected and pathogens could be eradicated before infections set in. \nMilitias funded by the Govcorps started an arms race the like of which the old novelists and sci-fans fans could never have predicted. Unfettered by the fractured UN and urged onward by the newly fragmented Republic States that had once been Old America, the war of cyborg terrorism rose to unprecedented levels; scorched earth tactics leaving other Govcorps scrambling to research new technologies faster and faster. \nEspionage became the new warfront as defense systems grew increasingly powerful, but the race to create and arm better agents pushed onward, regardless. \n\n&nbsp; \nThe Ecological crisis was 'solved' with the massive city shields; webbed walls of burning blue energy that kept out the raging tornadoes and the harsh UV radiation. Paying a tithe to just live in the cities, every citizen was beholden to the Govcorp who ruled their dome, just to stay alive. Gangs of cyborg agents roamed the streets, searching for enemy insurgents and terrorist actions plagued the days of the citizens as the wars between factions ground ever onward. \nThen the third great technological revolution happened: \nQuantum Teleportation. \nEuroShamataCorp came up with it first and immediately used it to dominate their rivals. Agents were teleported directly into the board rooms of enemy Govcorps, where the CEOs and partners were brutally assassinated in hails of gunfire or torn limb-from-limb by cyberjuggernauts armoured like old Earth crabs. \nScrambling, CEO clones were activated, while EuroShamataCorp began a totalitarian reign of supremacy as their beaten rivals retreated. \nSatellites which had once been the protective domain of each Govcorp could now be plucked out of the sky with ESCorp's ultimate technology. \nSecrets were mercilessly plundered and in their terror, the rival Govcorps banded together to fight the indomitable Goliath that was ESCorp. \n\n&nbsp; \nResting on its laurels, ESCorp played the benevolent dictator, giving ordinary citizens access to their new technology in the form of transport stations. For the first time in a hundred years, people could visit other cities and long-lost relatives on the other side of the world. Pushing the limits of their power, ESCorp began to set up gateways to the Mars asteroid belt and mine for resources long ago depleted on Earth. \nBut in putting their technology at the disposal of the people, ESCorp has assured its own downfall. \nHidden - but still powerful - the conglomerate of beaten rivals began to unravel the secrets of quantum teleportation for themselves. Working stealthily, they wormed their way into ESCorp's structure and placed agents throughout the megalithic corporation. \nWhen the coup finally began to unfold and the murder began afresh, ESCorp revealed their ultimate, hidden weapon - a shielding technology that could prevent inbound teleportation, which would leave only a smear of scattered particles on the surface of an invisible energy barrier. \nBut in their desperation, the Conglomerate set off quantum disruption nukes in all the major cities, blaming EuroShamataCorp for the destruction - claiming that the 'shielding' technology was highly unstable and could rip apart the world. \nFrom the ashes, the surviving citizens escaped through the Mars Belt Gateways, where they watched in terror as the Earth ripped itself apart in an unstoppable quantum war. \n\n&nbsp; \nIn the end, we left Earth. \nKnowing nothing.\n\n", "I should begin by saying that the world around us is much larger than, well, the world. What you would call the 'Earth' is merely a leaf on the branch of a cosmic tree, spanning millions of lightyears in all directions, roots burrowing deep into places so dark, so infinitely old, that the collective lifespan of all the humans that ever lived, ever, would not sum up to a tenth of a fraction of the time it would take to reach the base of the tree.\n\nHow do I know all this? I'm just a human; I went to highschool, hated it, went to college, loved it, and work the same 8:30am-5:00pm from Monday to Friday. I go home on Friday, convince myself that I'm going to make this weekend a productive one, and then flash forward to Monday, with no progress made. Rinse and repeat. \n\nYou could call it 'luck' that I found the Observer, but there are undoubtedly quantum threads of fate woven through a dimension that the human eye cannot perceive. At least, that's what the Observer told me. \n\nWhen I first found her, because she needed a gender for the context of this narrative, she wasn't too happy about my discovery. I didn't realize that I had stumbled upon a sentry assigned to record the Earth's actions for all of time. Having inhabited the Earth for longer than anyone, she was pretty well-versed in the English language. \n\nI asked her why the Creators left the Earth to go pursue other interests. She mulled it over, and through her eyes, I understand what she was thinking. The atrocities. Genocides, wiping out species after species with no compassion, including our own. Killing and raping the underprivileged in a desperate attempt to ascend to the throne of any given civilization. Sucking the planet dry of the Creators' generous resources. Making little attempt to reach out to the rest of the celestial tree. Forgoing the Creators' ideal image of a human in order to engorge on manufactured cheeseburgers, and somehow still managing to wage constant war. \n\nI understood why the human experiment was an experiment gone wrong.\n\nAfter all the tortuous human history I saw in her visions, she didn't need to explain, but she did. \n\n\"In the End, we left the Earth knowing nothing.\"", "Doran stood gazing out the window at immense plains sweeping outwards from his position, running unbroken towards a horizon fifty thousand miles away in a lush, emerald green of tall grasses waving in the wind. Even after being born and raised here on Neptune, this view still had the power to take his breath away.\nAn 18th-generation descendant of original Neptune settlers, Doran's upbringing instilled in him a strong allegiance to both family and to the standards which upheld the society which they lived in.\n\nExcept that lately, say in the last hundred years, a small but growing segment of the population was already rebelling against the very principles which had assured their settler forebears first sustainability, then stability, which strengthened into abundance, confidence and security. And as that surplus deepened and enabled the taming and colonization of vast areas of land, the people built cities, albeit far cleaner than their ancient Earth-bound versions. \n\nThat was all well and good...but it seems that when we finally left Earth, bedraggled and battle-weary, the seeds of Rome came with us, a malignant instinct in our very blood, that no amount of scrutiny or passion could ever displace. Doran had excelled in school, and then later in college, he had shown a keen interest in Terran Studies, fascinated by the motley assortment of peoples and nations on Earth, of competing interests and the blood-soaked battles to gain prominence. \n \nHe remembered one particular holo-set which held an interview of one of the original settlers to Neptune so long ago. The man's name was Dave Green, a used car salesman from Omaha, Nebraska. He told of how close we had come to missing our chance to escape...of the population being whittled down viciously to less than one billion worldwide...of the massive furnaces which had been built to incinerate the dead, their ashes unceremoniously dumped into the deepest abandoned mine shafts available. \n\nDoran recalled how hollow-eyed the man had been, recounting the horrors of latter-day Earth in a deadpan voice that had been burned clean of all emotion or zeal. He once figured, as did his friends, that the majority of settlers had been joyous, vibrant pioneers staking a claim on a new world as a matter of both providence and right...\nAnd those individuals did make up a full third of the people who journeyed here...but the others, while they had the relief of escaping Earth and its torments, were irrevocably damaged from the harshness of their existence. Still, it was those people who contributed more to the establishment of the laws and traditions which built a foundation for their descendants to thrive upon, than did the raucously exuberant folks. \n\n And now? Doran mused. Now there were gigantic industrial zones, the largest of which sprawled over an area of a thousand square miles, fed by an open-pit coal mine the size of North America. Forward teams have already been sent to both Saturn and Uranus to launch new power centers such as we have here, with plans to develop the staggering energy of Jupiter's wind storms already in the testing stage.\nAnd the money being made by such assets is nearly beyond calculation.\nAs Doran turned from the windows and walked back to his office, the words of that long-deceased man from Omaha rang in his mind, haunting him still:\n\n\"We were taught in school that the Statue of Liberty was once a beacon to the entire world, a visual symbol of the hope that a place of true freedom existed...a place where one could thrive apart from tyranny and condemnation...where a person could achieve their dreams. Only, in the end, we ironically became slaves to our self-serving dreams, and lost the very freedoms we had laid down our lives to purchase...\"\n", "We thought we could halt the inevitable. We, mere humans, specks amongst the stars and galaxies, thought we could spit in the face of nature. We knew what was best, we knew how to prolong the life of our sun, we knew how to turn CO^2 into oxygen artificially, we knew how to clone our livestock to feed our infinitely growing population. We, infants in comparison to what was surrounding us, thought we could fight the eventuality that all face. We were wrong. No one can fight Mother Nature. Eventually, everything turns to dust and is returned to what they came from. In the end, we left the Earth knowing nothing.\n\nFeedback is much appreciated", "(tw: suicide)\n\nIn the end, we left Earth knowing nothing. Mama sat at the window, silently watching as everything we knew and could possibly know drew away from us. What would happen to the trees? The pets we weren't able to bring along because they would not have been an \"effective use of space\"? The friends who departed on different ships? \n\n\nGia lay sleeping in my lap, her warm, heavy presence the one thing keeping me from asking all these questions aloud. I wondered what her life would be like, to be drinking artificially crafted water and breathing oxygen-adjacent air. She still sucked her thumb and she was almost three. I was glad Mama was distracted or she would have yanked it out of her mouth. \n\n\nAt first, it seemed fun. They made it seem fun. Once the UN made an official statement that they decided to pool their resources together for a mass space expedition, people took it and, as they often do, ran with it. Political pundits debated whether we were explorers or colonizers. Celebrities began toting custom Louis Vuitton brand NeOxygen pouches. MAC collaborated with engineers to develop mascara that applies smoothly in low gravity settings. It really felt like we were on the brink of something new, something exciting. That was three years before we left. \n\n\nPeople started asking questions. Is it not the fault of large corporations with a disregard for environmental policies that the Earth reached that point in the first place? Where are we even headed to? Are we going to be able to set up a WiFi network? At some point, the doubt became too strong to combat with a brightly colored advertisement for a bodycon spacesuit. \"There needed to be fundamental changes,\" they said, \"otherwise we would just ruin the next planet.\" Some pointed out that many of the corporations that ruined the environment had allyships with the people in our government. Some people marched in front of the White House, peacefully. Loud, but peaceful. They were greeted with military strength counterinsurgency. Most of them died or were severely injured. I think that's when everything changed. There was a clear us vs. them line drawn as our fellow citizens lay incapacitated on the White House lawn. The government stopped tolerating the questions. There were no more open press conferences, no more friendly jokes at the podium. That was two years before we left. \n\n\nA year before we left, it was announced with \"great sorrow\" that each nation would have to have a cap on how many people would be able to leave on the ships. We watched on our TV as Gia played on the living room floor. Mama screamed in frustration and broke a vase. Dad covered his face with his hands. Three people per household were permitted to go, and there would be military personnel insuring that that's all who went. Dad was distraught. He drank until none of us could understand what he was saying. He walked over to Mama and draped himself on her. He seemed to be whispering something to her; she nodded and kissed his cheek, staring straight forward. That night, Mama heard the shot from upstairs and simply looked startled for a moment. She went up there after a few hours and locked the door behind her, and said no one is allowed to go in, ever. \n\n\nWe brought two suitcases stuffed full of our lives, with Gia holding three of her stuffed animals in her little arms.\n\n", "''So what does it say?'' my colleague asked. ''Give it time..'' I replied, tired. To be sent to this backwards planet, not exactly an archeologist's wet dream. You know, I wanted to work at the excavations of Howeria, not this stuff. There were theories that Howeria was the birth planet of us all.\n\n''You know, I'd rather be at Howeria. There are theories that's the mother planet.'' I said to my colleague, ranting.\n\n''Ah, Howeria, that ain't fun. Look, what are you going to find in Howeria? Endless bureaucracy before you can get digging. Most interesting spots have been dug up already, anyway. Sure it's an old planet but come on, Howeria? How many times have you bitched and complained about boring Neo-American archeology?''\n\nHe had a point there. Neo-Americanism was not my subject, no I was a Cinologist. ''True, but.. don't you want to be known as the guy who found the birth planet? The mother of us all?''\n\n''Not necessarily, I just want to dig up the shit that interests me. Look, this old dusty planet, probably just a colony, but every colony has its own distinct culture and shit to look at. You won't find this shit anywhere else, but the shit on Howeria, you can find that everywhere. No man, give me the fringes, the outskirts.''\n\nEh. I shrugged and left it at that as I started moving again over the sand. My suit was uncomfortable, but I had to live with it, since the planet was radiated as hell. Even Howeria, which had been devastated by primitive nuclear weapons three times didn't have this much radiation. \n\n''This planet must've been a casualty in the American-Eurasian War. Still, it's uncommon how strong the radiation is. Everything dates from then but did that time have these kind of weapons already?''\n\n''No.. but could just be that they bombed it with tens of thousands of bombs. Though, that must've been from space, can't imagine bombing anything else in this scale than a planet-size military base.''\n\n''Yeah. Kind of frightens me, to be honest. Imagine the Confederation doing this to Santiago. New Howeria and Yingtse are already like this old planet. You know, Serv had a cousin on Yingtse who didn't get off the planet on time.''\n\n''Eh, don't worry. Politics, you know, it's just a load of bluster. Those bastards will never get to Santiago. In a year, we'll have captured the Captain-General of the Confederacy, I'll bet on it. Anyway, is it done translating yet?''\n\n''Eh.. yes, it's done.'' I held the translation of the great tablet that was projected into the air in front of my colleague.\n\nIn memory of this beautiful Earth, that we in have destroyed. May God forgive us for destroying our birth place, and may the planet recover from our destruction. We abandon her with tears in our eyes, but steel in our hearts, to never wage war and let loose this destruction once again.\n\n''Oh shit.'' we both whispered at the same time.\n" ]	6
	[WP] Sometimes it's impossible to say goodbye	[ "The soft dirt falling on the cheaply constructed box pattered quietly, not unlike a soft spring rainfall. Jeffrey was the first to awaken.\n\n\"Wha–?\" He tried to sit up, only to feel a solid thump on his head and a hefty weight on his chest. \"Jesus!\"\n\nHe blinked several times in an attempt to adjust to the light, only there was none to begin with. Wherever he was, it was pitch black. He frantically tried to bring his hands up to his face, but his left arm was pinned down. In fact, there was something holding down his entire left side.\n\n\"Fuuuuck,\" droned Sam as he began to come to.\n\n\"Sam! Sam, what've you done?!\" Jeff cried out, beginning to panic.\n\n\"Ahh... Nothin'. I didn't do anything. Where are we?\"\n\nJeff's lack of vision helped to somewhat boost his surviving senses. The musky, piney smell... The feel of unfinished wood underneath his head and hands... The muffled voices and shuffling of shovels against recently tilled soil drove home the shocking realization...\n\n\"Oh my god! GOD! HEY! HEY, STOP!\" Jeff screamed, his free hand banging on the lid of the rudimentary coffin. No response from above; they continued on without hesitation.\n\n\"Sam! What did you do with the money I have you? The money for Jackie?\"\n\n\"I—I haven't had time to get it to him yet...\"\n\n\"You insipid FUCK!\" Jeff wailed even louder this time, now turning his free appendage against his friend, hitting him as best as he could in such small quarters. \"What did I tell you to do?! I can't believe I trusted you, you STUPID shit!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry!\" Sam seemed to catch up to Jeff's speed, finally understanding where they were and what was happening to them. \"Oh my god... I'm so sorry, Jeff. Fuck... I—\"\n\n\"You say one more fucking word to me,\" Jeff's words are now cold and calculating, slowly slipping into a state of acceptance, \"and I'll kill you my goddamn self.\"\n\nThe sound of shifting soil grew further and further off into the distance for Jeff and Sam. Soon they would be completely alone. Alone together forever.", "To my most beloved Ash,\n\nIt has been a month and I still don’t feel right about it. My mind still keeps going back to the night before, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Perhaps if things had gone differently, I would not be writing this letter.\n\nSkyler is someone that I love deeply. Someone that I have always loved deeply. I also love you. I loved you from the time I first set eyes on you. Your cute smile and quiet reliability were my rock. I love you truly and deeply. I love both you and Skyler.\n\nI remember the first time that you held me after the nightmares. I woke up in a cold sweat, still thinking I was there. When you reached out to me, your gentle touch trying to reaffirm me, I hit you without even thinking about it. You have no idea how much that scared me. How my nightmare was becoming real. I ran out of the room, and you followed me. “It’s ok.” You said, holding me in your arms as I sobbed and tried to reorient myself. I was a terrified mess and you comforted me.\n\nSkyler was there when it happened originally. It might have left scars, but it also bound us together through our shared trauma. Skyler was the one who hid the gun. Skyler is the only one who understood the experience the same way I did. When there was no one else to talk to, Skyler listened. Skyler always listened without judgement. \n\nWhen you found us together, you thought I never loved you. I never said that. When you found us, you felt I had broken your trust. I never promised to love only you. I don’t think I could have ever made that promise. My love for you has never diminished or wavered, it has only grown. My love for Skyler also grew in a similar way. Perhaps I should have told you sooner, but if I’m honest with myself I never thought of it. I never thought of my love for Skyler as being like my love for you. When I did realize it, things happened quickly and then they were too late.\n\nI could see the hurt in your eyes. I could see how badly I had screwed everything up. I wanted to say that I was sorry. I was, I am, willing to do anything for your forgiveness of my mistake.\nThey say there is nothing faster than our rumor mill. That next morning, things were silent on the dropship as we donned our armor and prepared. What had once been a vibrant room, filled with jokes and comradery, was now only filled with a desolate and horrible silence. You could not even look in either of our directions.\nAfter the drop, everything was in chaos. Third squad was pinned down near the hangers and I was laying down suppressive fire on the bugs as second moved in to assist. It was my job to make sure the bugs kept their heads down. It was my job to protect second. When the breaches hit, I failed. I failed second squad, and I failed you.\n\nSkyler says it’s not my fault, that no one expected the breaches this far above the hive. However, I’ve suppressed breaches before, but when it mattered, I didn’t. I remember your screams as they overwhelmed our whole platoon. It did not even really register with me at the moment. There was too much else happening. \n\nAs we regrouped, I realized what had happened. “Where’s Ash?” I shouted out over the comlink. \n\n“He was with second when they breached.” Sarge replied. In that instant, I knew what that meant. You were gone. I stood there, trying to process it, trying to register that you were gone. “Get down you Idot!” The Sargent said, pulling me down behind cover. He saved my life. Sometimes, I wish he hadn’t. If he hadn’t perhaps I’d be talking to you right now rather than writing this letter. \n\nIt did not really even sink in until we were back on the ship and I was holding your trooper’s badge. I sat there, numb and alone, just turning it over again and again in my hands. My mind went over every moment of our relationship. My mind went over our long talks after dinner and the jokes you made before our drops. My mind went over how it was my fault that you did not joke with us before that drop. How it’s my fault that everyone was off their ball. How it’s my fault that your badge was going on the wall at headquarters.\n\nI felt so lonely to not have your warm body next to mine at night. Waking up from the nightmares and having no one there. No one to snap me out of it, to remind me that it was all just a dream. That I’m not there anymore. That I am never going to go back to that place again. No one to hold me as the emotions break over me like waves I can’t control, drowning me over and again in misery.\n\nThe psychologist suggested that I try to forgive myself. However, I can’t. What happened is not mine to forgive. It’s yours and I can’t talk to you anymore. I can’t close my eyes and relax as you stroke my hair and tell me that everything will be ok. It’s not going to be ok, not ever.\n\nI can’t even look at Skyler anymore. Skyler reminds me of my mistakes. Reminds me of how we are all grieving the loss of our friends and fellow troopers. We’ve put all of the badges on the wall, except for yours. It’s mine to put on the wall. But I’m afraid because it means leaving you behind as we redeploy. Leaving things as they were when we dropped.\n\nI’m sorry, I can’t say goodbye. I can’t put your badge on the wall. I’m sorry for betraying you. I’m sorry for failing when they breached. I’m sorry for everything. I need your forgiveness, I need your love. Please forgive me.\n\nEmory\n\n***\n\nEmory stopped typing. Emotionally exhausted, Emory looked at the screen. It was all there. Everything that needed to be said to Ash. Everything that had been left unsaid and more. Taking a deep breath, Emory opened a new tab and started typing.\n\n**\n\nTo my beloved Emory,\n\nI know. I’m not alive now to see it, but I know everything and I understand. Do you remember what I said after you slugged me that one night? You were crying in my arms, choking on the tears and repeating the word ‘sorry’ over and over. What I said to you then, I’ll say to you now, ‘I forgive you. I’ll always love and forgive you.’ \n\nI will always love you Emory. I always have and I always will. I understand what it is like to love someone deeply and care about them in ways that I don’t always understand because that is how deeply I care for you. Now that I’m gone, I’m glad that you have someone who cares for you like I did.\n\nI did feel betrayed, I did feel wronged when I saw the two of you together. In time, we would have healed that wound together. Our love is stronger than that. I don’t want you to feel horrible for the rest of your life over something that I would have forgiven you over.\n\nIt is not your fault that I or anyone else in our platoon died. No one could have suppressed a breach that large, much less two of them. You did your best and that is all we could ask of you. Don’t blame yourself for things that are not under your control. Don’t let your life stop over this, go and live. I will always forgive you.\n\nAsh\n", "Well this is weird, here I was at the grave of an old friend and what'd ya know here they are right next to me. It had taken years for me to get over his death and I just happened to be in town. Look at him all confused, he's just like before the accident... Before I knew it he had called out my name and glared at me. Just as I turned to look at him he flung himself at me and... \nListen Mick I've been watching you since I died, and I feel you've done a terrible job as me. Yeah I remember the accident, and I know you pretended to be me to get out of trouble. But you haven't done me justice and soon people will know the truth. \nI awoke in drowning in my sweat. I keep dreaming of that graveyard and the dead town. It's been years since the accident where I became responsible for the death of my friend and my home town dying. It wasn't on purpose, the fire of course, but they knew it was me. Luckily I was bad burned enough that I could pretend to be my now dead friend and they would think he was me. Soon I became him, and a few years later after some surgery I even looked like him. All these years the only thing that's drown out the guilt was alcohol, but now it doesn't. He's in my dreams and everywhere I look! Oh god someone end this for me! I can't handle this anymore I'm going home.", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nThe bar was like that on any other thousand worlds, the cheap decor only matched by its cheaper beer. Signs in both English and Chinese made several fanciful claims, not the least such as having the coldest beer in all of Nova Hong Kong or having passed their most recent health inspection. Smoke clung to the air like a miasma despite the best efforts of the fans and open windows, the local insect life smashing themselves futilely against the screens. Young women in cheap gauzy dresses moved about the space, bringing fresh pitchers of beer and removing empty shot glasses to the various tables filled with boisterous men and women. The lone pool table looked like the surface of Luna, its green felt stained with spilled beer and pock marked by cigarette burns. \n\nOne man entered from the front, the sounds of the packed city street just a hint louder than before. He wore a brown leather jacket, a unit patch sewn on the left sleeve and blood chit on the back. He glanced about the room as if looking for someone before raising his eyebrows in recognition of a face. Making his way past a dozen laughing Guangzho locals he came to the bar, squeezing past a stranger to sit by the familiar face, their features drawn back in remorse. \n\n\"Hey, Conner, where in the hell is Jimmy? I loaned him my boots the other day and I need 'em.\"\n\nThe other man said nothing for a long moment, instead taking a long drag of his cigarette. he tapped the ash into a tray before answering,\n\n\"At the bottom of the ocean, 'bout thirty klicks offshore.\"\n\nThe man who asked look as if struck by a mallet, his face going blank as comprehension dawned. \n\n\"You mean...\"\n\n\"Saw the whole thing myself,\" Conner said, taking a drink of his whisky. \"Pirate Deathstalker* got him as he was pulling out of a dive, stitched an entire burst of Ultra AC/10 into his cockpit. He was gone, Mark, just gone. One minute he was there, the next...\" Lieutenant Conner Graves finished the rest of his drink in one gulp, motioning for the barman to refill it. \n\nCorporal Marcus Horn sat down, all energy sucked right out of him. \n\n\"Christ... I saw him just this morning before the raid, I thought-\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter what you think,\" Conner said, \"The universe doesn't care what you think.\" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the scenes of merriment and devil-may-care partying.\n\n\"A short life and a merry one. That's what they said back during the Golden Age of Piracy on Terra. The only certainties in this accursed life is a bottle of whisky and a good-time girl. So drink, Luke, smoke your lungs black and dip your wick till you're as limp as a noodle. God knows when it might be your last.\" ", "I looked at him.\n\nHe looked at me, for the last time.\n\nWhat could we do but make jokes and dodge what we both knew?\n\nI didn't want my final words to him to be a bad joke.\n\nBut, what could we say?\n\nIt's time to walk away, forever fading into his memory.\n\nI gathered my strength, took one look back.\n\n\"Goodbye\" I tried to say.\n\nI never said it.\n\nSometimes it's impossible to say goodbye.\n\nI looked at him, for the last time, he looked at me.\n\nWhat could I say? What could I do?\n\nSo I just walked off without a word.", "Julia left Mark seven months ago, it was a rainy day, much like today. He remembered their last conversation perfectly, it was something that he ran through his head several times a day. Mark wished he hadn't let her leave, that he'd held her in bed for just a moment longer. How much could have changed had he kept her for just one second more? He tortured himself like this incessantly, clenching her garments closely to his chest as he lay curled in bed. Her gown still held her scent through the tears. \n\nLanguishing over her death in this room alone, he never rose to answer the calls of his family and friends as they offered they tried to offer condolences and support. Many times they let themselves in to the house, dropping off food or tidying up as he wasted away. They tried to convince him that it was okay to feel some measure of grief over her loss, but his extent was far too much. It was best that he move on. His best friend offered to pack up her things and have them donated, but Mark wouldn't hear such a suggestion. These were her things. They belonged to Julia and Julia alone. It was what he had to remember her by. They just didn't understand.\n\nAs he grew increasingly distant, they stopped visiting. Mark just wasn't the same anymore. He didn't speak to them intelligibly, if at all, he wouldn't look at them, return their calls, answer their knocks, or show any sort of appreciation or acknowledgment of their efforts. He pushed them away. In the dark room, he clutched her robe and inhaled deeply as flashes of her smiling face came to mind. Between the patterings of cold, October rain on the windowpane, he heard her voice. It was sweet and soft. Mark felt the sheets tighten and loosen around him, warmly, as her embrace. On days like this, it was as if she was there. It was as if Julia had come to visit him.\n\nWhat the others did not know, is that she had. Julia visited Mark on cold, rainy days, like the day on which she lost her life. She tried to comfort him, to console him, from beyond the grave. Julia did not know that her actions only furthered his separation from the world. So long as she visited him, he would remain as he was. He would never say goodbye. Wallowing in his grief, indulged by his deceased partner, he stayed in bed. Mark and Julia huddled together beneath the sheets in a tight embrace, much like they could have on that fateful day.\n\n-334", "The last dregs of autumn had left brown leaves strewn across the yard. Arthur liked to look at them through the window in the early morning as he drank his coffee. Everything was fine in this neighbourhood. Everything was fine in the city and the state. Everything, in general, was fine. The designers had made it that way, back when the first virtual reality sims came out. It was a delicate balance - too perfect and it wouldn't be believable, but too flawed and no one would want to play. So everything was fine, as it had always been, as long as Arthur had been playing.\n\nHe rinsed his mug in the sink, thinking about the next few days. There were bills to pay on the first, a concert he'd wanted to catch on Sunday, this indie band he'd seen once before. It wasn't the same, obviously, seeing a concert in virtual reality, but it was close. \n\nVirtual reality hadn't really caught on as well as anyone had hoped, in the beginning. But the concept was simple, and it was nice for a lark, so within a few years almost everyone had one collecting dust in their closet or garage. Gameplay was easy - just put on the glasses, push a button, and you're in. When you're ready to go back to the real world, say \"goodbye\" and the system pushes you out. It's as simple as that.\n\nBut Arthur didn't want to be pushed out. Every day, he drank his morning coffee by the window, went to work, ran some errands, watched TV until his eyelids drooped closed. He used his fingers to turn the pages of his favourite book, walked around the office at a brisk clip, hugged his friends when he ran into them on the street. He couldn't say \"goodbye\" and go back to life in a chair, unable to move his limbs, unable to really speak. \n\nThe freedom of movement was like a drug, and there were no consequences if he just kept doping, day in, day out. Somewhere in the suburbs, his body sat in bed. But that wasn't Arthur anymore. Arthur was here, he was moving and alive and so happy, so fiercely, desperately happy. And it was all fine. It would all be fine, forever, as long as he didn't say \"goodbye.\" \n" ]	7
	[WP] In a world where magic is so mundane that it is taught alongside language in primary school, a student spends most of their time reading about fantastical beings who could construct machines to work for them. The stories are just fiction; that is, until such a person actually appears.	[ "There is something so brilliant about the thought of a mechanical creation performing a programmed operation. A machine capable of completing tasks without the magical influence of humans. Just imagine, walking into your kitchen and having a machine do your dishes as opposed to casting a charm. Or even having some apparatus to wash and dry your clothing. \n\n\nMy mind went wild with the thoughts of mechanical vehicles and other extravagant tools as I flipped through the book I’d checked out from my school’s library. \n\n\n“Urie, if you don’t stop reading that nonsense you’ll never pass your Enchantments exam,” my mother called, standing at the bottom of the steps. \n\n\nSomehow, she always seemed to know when I was reading these sorts of stories, getting lost in the fiction of it all. But can’t you just imagine- machines that store all of the knowledge from our books! Or even a more instantaneous method of delivering messages. \n\n\n“Urie, I am serious. I don’t hear any studying going on up there,” she yelled again. \n\n\n“Fine, mom,” I grumbled, tossing aside the book and pulling out my wand. \n\n\nAs I began transfiguring my pet frog into various object, as assigned by my teacher, an unusual glowing circle appeared on my wall. Leaving Borga as a small teacup, I stood in the center of my room and observed. \n\n\nMuch to my surprise, out from the green illuminated hole, came two people. An elderly fellow, white hair erratically sticking out from his head, and a confused looking boy who appeared to be not much older than myself. \n\n\n“BLEEHH- M-Morty, do you see this kid. Yeah, he doesn’t even -hic- know what’s g-g-goin on right now,” the old man stammered, a disturbingly green string of saliva dripping down from his lower lip. \n\n\n“Rick, uh, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” the boy mumbled, brows pulled up sympathetically towards me. \n\n\n“Who are you gu-”\n\n“Shh. -hic- See, Morty. No idea,” he interjected, cutting me off and pulling out a strange looking bag. “T-this dimension doesn’t have any machines or electronics, Morty. They have magic. Magic, Morty!”\n\n\nAs he spoke, his hand disappeared into the bag and managed to continue to reach beyond the visible length of the sack. Some sort of enchantment, I assumed. Then, he tossed a strange looking thing onto my floor. It was rectangular and, when it hit the floor, it opened to reveal some sort of moving picture. \n\n\n“Look at his face Morty. He is in awe. Total shock. This is the first- BLEHH -first piece of technology he has ever seen. I mean, what kind of people can cast magical spells and don’t even think to make a T.V. or car?” The old man shouted, hands flailing about as he spoke. \"If he knew that he was in possession of a s-s-special limited edition ZEEELDAHH 3DS, his mind would be blown.\"\n\n\n“Gee, Rick, I really don’t think we should just give him this stuff. I mean, what if his people see and get mad or something?” The boy questioned, continuing to look rather concerned. \n\n\nI tried to speak again but the man cut me off, tossing out all sorts of fantastical objects from his magic bag. Each object looking as if it were straight out of one of my books. \n\n\n“He is going to be a g-g-g-gOOOHHD, Morty. Do you hear me? A god.” The man’s eyes bugged from his head and he looked at me. “Look, just use your magic to build one of these and-and, well cool shit will happen. Just trust us. We’re from the future, or another dimension, or really whatever because based on the look on your face you have no clue what I am talking about.”\n\n\nAfter tossing a book to the ground, a few pages flying into the air and softly floating to the floor, they left from where the came. The boy continued to whine, but his objections were ignored and the madman simply yanked him through the hole. \n\n\nBefore me sat, what looked to be, schematics for all sorts of elaborate fantasy machines. Grabbing the things he had left behind, I darted outside and did as I was told. Before my eyes, a mystical machine began to construct itself. As I waited, I flipped open the golden colored small device that was left with me and began to play. \n\n\nThanks to the mysterious strangers, I became the only person in my world capable of producing machines. Fiction became reality and magic became secondary to brilliant capabilities of my creations.\n", "Ilar blinked at the girl that had just appeared in his backyard. He lowered the book an inch and stared as she looked around and dusted herself off, pushing long brown hair that fell in waves past her leather clad shoulders. Her outfit was very strange, it was leather underneath, but a thicker, almost armored leather, and all around that were strange materials he had never seen before. Shiny black tubes that connected to her joints in a cage that constantly shifted and moved with her. Slung on her back was a small gray bag, and a strange wand was attached to her thigh.\n\n“You there.” She called in a smooth, strangely accented voice. “Could you tell me where I am?” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box, which light up.\n\n“Umm . . .” Ilar mumbled. “Echtasia?” She twisted her lip. “Who are you?” She smiled and walked over.\n\n“I’m from another universe, she reached down, here on an exploration mission, greetings from Earth.” She lowered her open hand to him. Ilar stared at the girl, slowly glancing down at his comic book. In it a girl in meteorite armor threw lighting with her creations at stone machines built by the corrupt government.\n\n“What are you wearing?” He managed to force out. She looked down at herself.\n\n“It’s an adaptive power exoskeleton, or an A.P.E., it boosts my strength.” She grabbed his hand and with ease pulled him onto shivering feet.\n\n“It’s enchanted?” He guessed. She chuckled.\n\n“Enchanted? No it’s Hydraulic.” The word clicked in his brain . . . Hydraulic? Like with cylinders?\n\n“So it’s a machine!?” He reached out with extreme excitement. The girl took a step back.\n\n“Well yeah? What you don’t have hydraulics?” Ilan shook his head.\n\n“Your universe uses machines!” He assured and picked up the comic book and flipped pages. Holding it out she stared for a good twenty seconds.\n\n“Magic?” She whispered, turning a page. “This looks like a cool fantasy book.”\n\n“No, but, the girl’s the hero, Emilia, she can build things.” He pointed out. “Without incantations or spells or alchemy, her constructions follow her will, let her fly, or breathe underwater without using magical energy.” She stared and grabbed the book, flipping back to the very beginning, staring at the innocent everyday character the book introduced, before he met Emilia, and as a result used all kinds of magic.\n\n“Great Scott.” She whispered. “You use magic?” He nodded.\n\n“Well yeah, but it’s not a class I’m good at.” She shook her head.\n\n“Alright, well . . . come on, I only have a few hours, I need to collect as much data as possible before I get pulled back.” Ilar couldn’t pull her eyes off as she fiddled with the box in her hand. Without even concentrating she flicked and moved lights around. Incredible. “So . . . uh . . . I’m sorry who are you?” He blushed a bit.\n\n“Umm Ilar, Ilar son of Kyr.” She nodded.\n\n“Pleased to meet you Ilar, my name’s Emily, you care to show me around?” The way she said it made his heart skip a beat. Emily . . . no, it’s a coincidence.\n\n“Of . . . of course.” He swallowed. No one was going to believe him, no way. He grabbed the comic book and closed it, tucking it under his arm before heading for the door. She would need a cloak if they were going to go anywhere." ]	2
	[WP] it's your first day back in society after spending a year in solitude and hard, honest self examination. As you walk around town, you realize you that you now hear a person's genuine intentions when they speak instead of the modern day language norms which you were once familiar with.	[ "\"I haven't missed you in the slightest but I want to make it seem like you are important to me... so I'm lying.\" She said it with such dead-pan happiness, her huge shit eating grin spreading across her pretty face. The bluntness hit me somewhat by surprise and the sharpness of her cruelty took the words from my mouth. The confusion on my face must have been obvious because she opened her mouth again to impart more happiness into my life: \"I really couldn't give less of a fuck where you've been but I'm going to ask anyway because you're not speaking and I feel awkward.\" Something about the way she spoke, in an awkwardly abrupt yet friendly manner, made me realise that something had definitely changed since I left a year ago. \n\n\n\n\"If you don't care, then why would you expect me to answer?\" It was as if I had just slapped her. Her cheeks began to redden as she turned from me: \"Second thought, I want to get as far from you as possible so I'm making an excuse about a doctor's appointment.\" and with that, she walked away quickly escaping my company. \n\n\nThat was weird as shit and more depressing than I could have imagined for my first encounter with a human in over a year. I turned the key to my apartment and flung the door open, no one had been in there for a whole year. I strode in and dropped onto my couch, a thin layer of dust bursting into the air. I felt somewhat defeated and unwilling to move. My renewed faith in the world had been definitively crushed by the first person I spoke to. I decided I would take this time to catch up on what I had missed since being away. So I turned on the news. Things got worse from there.\n\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\nHope you enjoyed what I did with the prompt, tried to take my own spin on it but it's quite late here and I haven't had the chance to read anyone else's replies to I'm not sure how mine is in comparison. Also, I sort of rushed the ending because I am getting really tired but I wanted to write at least an attempt at a reply because I really liked your prompt!", "I wish you had never been born\n\nMy mother says she never said that, but I heard it. At the tail end of our conversation, as I cracked a joke about how I'd forgotten to call her for a year, I heard it. It was almost an octave lower than the words before, and barely sounded like her, but there was no one else in the room. I confronted her, and was told that I was imagining things. But I know what I heard. \n\n---\nI thought about strangling you last night.\n\nMy wife whispered that to me this morning, just as I woke up. I said nothing, I hoped it was a dream. Maybe I was just stressed, I had just gotten back from my introspective journey the day before, and it would make sense for a few senses to be crossed. I hadn't seen anyone for a year, maybe I just needed to get used to it. I turned over and hugged her. I want to cry when you touch me. I recoiled.\n\n---\nWhy couldn't you stay gone? We were happy.\n\nMy daughter hugged me, and said she was glad to see me, but all I could hear was the wish for me to be gone. I knew I hadn't been a good father, but had I been that bad? I asked her, I asked whether she'd really missed me, and she said she had, but behind the words there was more. I celebrated when you left. I cried when I heard you were back. I watched her as she walked away. She didn't favor her right leg anymore, I was happy to see. I had regretted that.\n\n---\n\nI didn't understand why anyone would think badly of me. No one was happy to see me. The whispers followed me, everywhere I went. Horrible terrible why is he back why can't he just die that poor family thought they were free and now... I went to speak to my brother in law. We had always been friends, and I needed to hear what he thought of me. Last time I'd seen him, we'd had beers and laughed for hours. This time, I walked up to his front door, rang the bell, and when it opened, I'm glad he's back. \n\nI sighed with relief, someone had missed me, maybe he could explain why everyone seemed to hate me. He said hello, and following his words, I didn't want you to die by anyone else's hands. \n\nI asked him why, why did everyone hate me? No one hates you, he said. My sister told me what you do, he said. You're just paranoid, he said. I will snap a bone for every time you touched my niece, he said. I ran.", "\"War is hell.\" \n\nThat's what my VA shrink told me, anyway. Emerging from West Point I expected to do great things: slay our nation's enemies and be a leader of men. Iraq, Panama, North Korea? It didn't matter, I couldn't wait to go out into the world and prove my mettle as a man. \n\nAn e-mail came from the commander's exec, said he wanted to see me, something about deployment orders. Finally! Smoothing the wrinkles in my dress uniform, I strode down the hallway toward his corner office. As I approached him, I popped a half-assed salute and delivered a forcedly deferential \"Good morning, Sir.\" \n\n\"Sonny, I've got your orders, ready to go serve your country?\" \n\n\"Yes'r\" \n\n\"Good! We're sending you to HQ. Enjoy a year in Tampa!\"\n\n\"What??....Tampa??....yes'r\"\n\nTampa is a scourge of a deployment. Everyone in and out of uniform thinks you're going to go spend a leisurely vacation in Florida while they're still slaving away shoveling snow and wearing sweaters. There's no respect for a Tampa-bound soldier, but there sure as hell ought to be. It's a place to be worked to the bone, 14 hour days, 7 days a week. Not real work, mind you, but the bullshit administrativia that has become all too common in this modern life. Florescent lights, e-mails about troop movements, and meetings kowtowing to the ghost of David Kilcullen. This happens in the sandbox too, but there you at least have some desert camaraderie. The kind that comes with barracks tattoos, metric tons of care package beef jerky and more homo-eroticism than a Disney film. It's not gay if the ship is underway...Ah yes, desert love. None of that was to be found here though. Instead, we shuffled back and forth between lodging and the work center, sneaking chow only when the barrage of e-mails slowed to a dull roar.\n\n364 days later I emerged from my hole. The service keeps it under 365 because then they don't owe you extra leave--bless their heart. \n\nAfter a leisurely direct flight to Logan I deplaned to the usual fan-fare of a returning hero. Dozens of friends and family, patriotic balloons and a 20 foot banner with \"Welcome Home Lt. Armstrong!\" \n\nOh wait, no I didn't. Because no one gave a rat's ass about my deployment to the American South. At least my wife showed to give me a lift home. I embraced her and went in for the ole classic welcome-home kiss, I even leaned her back like she was a 40's nurse in Times Square. \n\n\"I missed you. I love you.\" I softly told her. \n\n\"I slept with 12 other dudes while you were gone, and you'll never know.\" She gently responded.\n\n", "I strolled through the warming sunlight of the late afternoon, relaxing as I watched a group of kids play near the park. It was a fresh sight, as opposed to the dark room in which I had spent the last year. I watched as they kicked a ball high into the air, overshooting the goal they had been aiming for. The ball landed softly on the waving grass near me, and I picked it up, offering it to the kid that came running after it.\n\n\"Who're you?\" he asked, suspicion and-surprisingly, disdain in his voice. \"Give us back the ball!\" This had been nearly shouted. I recoiled in a small start of surprise, dropping the ball into his hands as I did so. As he ran off with the ball, I gave myself a little shake. I couldn't exactly expect kids at their age to have the best manners, but it still irked me. \n\nI sat and watched the kids play for a while longer, their excited screeches resounding through the air. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I looked back to see a woman standing behind me. \n\n\"Get out of here, pedophile!\" she said, somehow maintaining a cheerful tone saying it. This, once more, caught me off guard. I realized that in the year I'd shut myself off that these kinds of things had been becoming more of a problem, but this woman was so frank about her opinion that it shocked me.\n\n\"W-what?\" I asked, still stunned. \"I'm no pedophile!\" The woman stepped back, her face contorting into a look of fear and disgust.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I looked at her, dumbfounded. What kind of a reaction was that? It certainly wasn't a natural continuation to the conversation we had been having.\n\n\"I said, I wasn't a pedophile! I'm just enjoying the park like you and your family!\" I said, growing a little angry. I caught myself, though, and calmed down. The last year would not be in vain, I would not allow myself to lose control like I once had.\n\n\"I'm getting out of here,\" the woman said, covering her mouth. With that, she ran off to the group of children, and plucked one out of the group to lead him away. I looked in confusion at the mother and her child. I had expected hers to be the rude child I had met earlier, since they were both so incredibly open about their opinions. I sighed, and got up. Nothing good had come from visiting the park. As I was leaving, a police officer approached me.\n\n\"Dude, you need to stop being a fucking creep,\" he said, contradicting everything I knew about how police spoke to a suspect.\n\n\"I'm not being a fucking creep!\" I said, trying to control myself. The police officer stepped back, acting in the same shocked manner as the mother before him. \n\n\"That's not how you talk to an officer, and I didn't even say you were a creep!... Right? Man you're crazy,\"\n\n\"Wrong! You just called me a creep a couple of seconds ago, and now you're calling me crazy!\" The officer stayed silent for a moment, before looking at me with a sort of fear in his eyes.\n\n\"You're reading my mind?\"\n\n___\n\n[Part 2!](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3va4m2/wp_its_your_first_day_back_in_society_after/cxm9l7r)\n\nIf you liked this, make sure to check out my subreddit /r/OpiWrites, where I post all of my short stories and a couple of longer ones! Enjoy!" ]	4
	[WP] You live in world where all the natural features are the result of two gods falling in, and out of love. Write the legend of how the rainforest came to be.	[ "I'm a man of simplicity, I exist simply to create and to destroy.\nTasked with the job of Love and hate, and made a God to carry forth these things.\nunfortunately Love never existed before I existed, Everything just simply was.\n\nShe was beautiful, a true creation, I couldn't even fathom making her, and I could only dream of being the one to craft her elegance.\nShe was the mother of nature, the earth and everything around it. the laws of the universe bent around her and her grace made the motions of all living things.\nI needed her.\nBut tainted by my own creations, I knew I was the only one who could feel this way, for I created and concepted Love, But never did I ever expect my own creation to be the one thing to destroy me. How was I Going to explain this feeling to anything in this universe when it was I who made it.\nMaybe I can demonstrate it, Show it; do something to garner her attention.\nAnything.\nI knew Earth was her prized possession, A rock lain beautifully with life, with its own system of creation being played forth everyday. Seasons to separate the monotony and shifting weather to displace comfort and encourage constant change. she even built it around a Sun and a moon to take on a sort of cycle of activity and rest among the creatures there.\nI knew if I was to impress her, or at least demonstrate this feeling, earth would be the place.\nSo that's where I went, and from there I set forth to find a plot of land and from there I started building. being only able to craft through emotion, I had to improvise, and I did so by influencing the nature. Trees started to sprout rapidly, animals started to ponder, and agriculture started to grow. I showed my Love to the life in this land, for if I was going to demonstrate such a thing to a Goddess, I should at least be able to explain it to mortal creatures as well.\nThe animals started herding as a result, the plants and trees started growing together, even the clouds in the sky started to respond.\nI knew what I was doing was magical, even from a Gods standpoint.\n\nEventually a creature, very God like in nature, yet mortal like the rest of the creatures on this rock. started to peer into what was going on; Curious these animals were. Eventually even I got invested in who they were, \"Maybe I could influence them too\" I wondered. \nthey were obviously made with some kind of hierarchy over the other creatures of this planet, so I believed that showing them Love would make them even better, and the Goddess of Nature would be impressed by my abilities.\nSo I showed them that Love. at first they barely understood it, but eventually they started to grasp the concept. Males and females started to elaborate in dance and impression, to attract one another. The creatures started staying together and building together, they even started making garments and beautiful jewels to adorn themselves with.\nWhat I've done was even more then I thought I was capable of, The creatures even learned how to harness a sun like conductor of heat with mere sticks to keep each other warm.\nI knew she was going to be impressed, I knew she was going to be mine at this point.\n\nTime moved on and what started as a small settlement of trees, eventually became much, much bigger. It was beautiful, The colors, the creatures, the water that pelted off the soft earth. every morning the dew on the trees would glisten and every night the lights in the thousands eyes of the inhabitants would flicker off to prepare for the next. It was only a matter of time before the Goddess would see what has erupted on her fair grounds. For I believed what I had done could only be described as perfect love.\nThe time eventually came when the Goddess would return to her most prized possession, At first sight of her I trembled gleefully, She was even more then I even remember or could even fathom. \"Was there a third god in play\" I asked myself \"Is the God of Luck watching upon me\" I thought.\nThis fantasy didn't last long however, as the Goddess started getting frustrated. \nShe wanted to know why I would do such a thing, almost like I ruined her earth, with the sadness in her eyes. I told her \"This is all for you, I made your Beautiful earth even more so, just look and see for yourself. don't be afraid of the change, try to be optimistic about it.\" at which she replied \"How could I, You came along and sped things up at a rapid pace and disrupted the balance that was present. And worse of all, you tempered with the humans. why are they afraid of their nature? why do they wear those silly garments? Why do they fight for each others attention? and why do they play with heat like its some kind of luxury?\"\n\"Because I showed them Love, the same love I feel for you. I did this to show you what beauty could come of it. I'm just trying to demonstrate you this.\nEver since I first saw you, I knew I had to show you.\" She wasn't having it, and she replied, \"I had to come back here, because human beings I left here to do my work when I was gone have started fighting each other and even Killing each other. they fear their own body, and care more about the worries of others over their own well being. this is chaos.\" \nI knew at this point, that my blinding Love for this Goddess has made me ignorant to the counterpart of Love, which is Hate. I didn't just show this land love, I also gave it opportunity for abhorrence.\nEverything I did gave precedence for odium, and the God like creatures now have to suffer because of it.\nThis realization made my immortal heart shatter, and knowing I only pushed the Goddess away, made me want to touch the likeness of mortality. so I could experience death. a far more comforting place,more so then the sadness now chained to my heart.\nThe Goddess, in her rage, told me earth was a lost cause, and then left abruptly, leaving me to deal with the consequence of my actions.\n\nFrom that day forth I would be stricken with the guilt and pain of this planet. I watched as the humans waged war constantly, I watched as they slaughters animals and each other for fun, and destroyed the very rain forest I built for the Goddess. \nI also knew I was stuck here, to make amends for what I've done. I tried communicating and showing them a faith in love, but it only led to more hate.\nThey started worshiping me more then the message I tried to send. They started destroying in my name and spitting in the face of anyone who didn't believe what they believed. Love eventually became something of stories, fairytales and a means to enhance their consumerism. \n\nNot all hope is lost though, a large few of these humans have started to communicate through wide networks and mechanisms connected to one another\nPeople are becoming more accepting because of this and an influx of charity has been ever so prevalent as of lately. Maybe things can balance themselves out eventually, maybe someday the earth will be presentable again, and maybe the Goddess will come back to see her earth rejuvenated and beautiful again, but for now I can only dream of such a day. \n\n(I apologize if this story isn't quite what you were asking for, but I thought it was a good concept ^_^)\n", "I made the world for you, my love. It was nothing before we came here, just a poisoned sea and a desert that stretched on forever. Nothing could live here but the winds that tortured the land. And then you looked at me and told me you loved me.\n\nI loved you, too, but saying the words weren't enough. I looked out on our world and saw a way to show you how much I did. From the desert I pulled three chunks of earth and formed them into the moons. They dance around each other throughout the night so that you can know the joy you brought me.\n\nYou delighted in them and your happiness turned in to my own. To make you happy was my only existence and after backbreaking days I slumbered in contentment. You marveled at the sandfalls and the painted lands full of color, but I saw it wasn't enough. You were lonely and wanted company outside of my own. I understood.\n\nThe sea I turned habitable. From it came creatures of all sizes and shapes. You were happy again, watching your children grow and change. They were your gift to me and in turn I was amazed at your love for me. So many ways to say you cherished me. I saw it in all of them and they were beautiful.\n\nYou made them walk and think like we do. I couldn't have our children be homeless so the lands they trod became lush and fertile. The trees bore fruit and our children were never hungry. Things were peaceful, but I continued to shape the world.\n\nThe mountains with lakes at the top that drained internally, causing caverns and waterfalls. The cliffs of flowers that blew petals over the lands of our children twice a year. The crystalline forests that reflected the sun in thousands of rainbows. You smiled and all my aches were worth it.\n\nI ventured across the world to build. You told me not to, that things were perfect the way they were. I had to continue, to make you happy. I formed the trench that runs from pole to pole and filled it with wonders.\n\nWhen I returned things were different. Your creatures had turned dark. They had sharp teeth and killed for pleasure. Our children fought with each other. \"This is the way it was meant to be\" you said.\n\nI had to make separations, mountains and canyons to keep them from destroying each other. \"Why, my love? Why the darkness and the pain?\" You said you had missed me when I left and the loneliness had turned bitter.\n\nI was back but your sadness never left. You were angry with me. It was my fault. I tried to show you the other side but you refused to go. \n\nAnd then, one day, it was your turn to leave. \"I do not love you anymore.\" You were gone. And I sat on the edge of the trench I had built and cried. The deepest place on our world filled with my tears until the lands grew trees from the dirt. Clouds formed and the storms were violent, but I didn't care. If I stopped crying I would destroy what I had made instead. So I wept and the clouds dropped thick and heavy over the lands. \n\nIt rains all the time in my home. The lands choke with sorrow and only the most vile of creatures live here. They fight every day to climb high enough to breathe fresh air. None of them live long, because they cannot have what I can't, reprieve. I kill those that make it out." ]	2
It could be an epic or a haiku, or anything in between. I don't see enough poems on here.	[WP] Write a poem about something that happened to you this year.	[ "I can't\n\nWords that echoed, floated, drifted\n\nIncinerated my pride, poisoned my joys\n\nweighed down who I am\n\ntrampled on my dreams.\n\nI can't\n\nStill echoing as I run,\n\nand I accept that I'm no more capable\n\nfor having gotten away\n\nFor escaping this instigator\n\nOf my own misery\n\nI can't\n\nAnd so I walk into the new class, the first day, of a new semester.\n\nFled my failures, fled my pains\n\nAs I remember, I am \"free\" of them\n\nAnd that deadened joy\n\nthat has been all I can hope for\n\nrises again, and I accept it\n\nI can't\n\nAnd so I meet, new faces\n\nand learn to be an aide\n\nAnd learn again something I love\n\nThe simple joys of construction\n\nOf solutions, as I learn again\n\nthe class I took years past\n\nAnd remember\n\nI was good at this\n\nOnce upon a time\n\nI was good at a lot of things\n\nCan I?\n\nAnd soon, the students turn to me\n\nask my help, want my knowledge\n\nMy skills, my wits\n\nAnd they thank me for being here\n\nAs life begins to breathe anew.\n\nI Can.", "I live within a sinking sort of site, \n\nA rocky and a blue washed stranded beach. \n\nWith leaves that fall and can't drift left or right,\n\nThat neatly lie in place, each stacked on each.\n\nA thousand bits of string go through the air,\n\nThey're tied to branches of the leaf-left trees.\n\nWind blows and strings snap if left unprepared,\n\nAnd flutter as they trail through piles of leaves. \n\nI cannot tie them as my hands are slow'r,\n\nThan pace of wind blown gentle through the boughs,\n\nAnd so the number of the strings is low'red,\n\nThere is no string that is not broken now. " ]	2
	[WP] A time traveling assassin is sent from the barren future to the past to kill a man who eventually caused the downfall of human civilization. But the assassin realizes one thing - that man is his great great great great great grandfather.	[ "\"Wait, seriously?\" Fred asked.\n\nCarl Henry stared straight at the towering giant of a time machine before him and tired to his compatriot Fred.\n\nHe would be shortly piling himself onto that thing and going back in some kooky sci-fi adventure to murder his great-great-great-great whatever grandfather to restore balance and order to the future.\n\nOr something like that.\n\nCarl could not tell. He had just failed his drug test and was being cleared for travel anyway. This was probably all just a dream anyway.\n\n\"Yeah, look. I've got the whole family tree down according to Grannie's little black book here. William Birchwood Henry, right next to \"Kandy\" Edith Maxwell,\" said Carl.\n\n\"Goddammit... Wait, will you still do it anyway?\"\n\n\"Don't think that's possible. If I did do it, I wouldn't be here and this whole Save-The-World organization would've been ended since it started.\"\n\n\"Motherfucker- Wait, is that how time travel works?\" Fred questioned, even though he was supposed to be the stereotypical genius in charge of time-traveling shinengans... shinanigans... shinananigans?\n\nShenanigans!\n\nCarl shrugged his shoulders, \"I don't know what theory we're going with. Multiple dimensions that branch off?\"\n\n\"Then, there'd be no fucking point in doing any of this.\"\n\n\"Mhmm... Singular timeline seems wrong cause of the grandfather paradox.\"\n\n\"What about Novikov's self-consistency?\" Fred asked yet another question, therefore reinforcing his position as a literally useless exposition character.\n\n\"There really would be no point in doing anything then. I go back to shoot him, I'll probably end up fucking great-great-great-great-great granny Kandy six ways from Bangkok and wind up with mutated offspring. Resulting in this whole dumb future where I have to pay taxes to a faux-American government in the form of aluminum bottle caps.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait... You telling me you'd bang your own ancestor?\" Fred cringed a little, knowing that he was in the presence of a creepy-ass motherfucker who'd bang his own great-great-great-great prostitute-grandmother.\n\n\"Oh most definitely. I still have photographs of her. Wanna touch them?\"\n\n\"I think you meant 'see them,' right?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nCarl shoved the colorized photos he'd been storing up his lower-right asscheeks into Fred's hand.\n\nThe little slips were warm and sticky. Whether due to sweat and shame, excrement, or just sweat, no one could say.\n\nActually, I could answer that. It was the \"sweat and shame\" kinda sweat.\n\n\"For fuck's sake, Carl.\"\n\n\"Up yours, Fred. How was this time travel thing gonna even work anyway?\"\n\nFred teetered nervously. He had not been expecting to question his wild and crazy-smart form of science at all. As was the weakness of all self-proclaimed tech geniuses. \n\nNo, for real. No smart person wants to have to explain to you why what they're trying to get to work works. If they do, they don't have the lungs for it. \n\nYou know all the techno-blabble-blab that you hear from every other freckle-faced redhead or skinny-ass-fuckboy next door types of characters? Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. In movies, tee-vee, or even a book. They're retarded. All of them. You know who's the smart one in all of those books? It's the guy who's visibly freaking out. Or, you know, the dead one.\n\n\"We were... going to attach a nuke to a rocket and send you flying into outer space.\"\n\nSmart. Real fucking smart, Fred.\n\nYou're a dumbass, Fred.\n\nFuck you, Fred.\n\n\"A nuke.\"\n\n\"Yes, a nuke,\" Fred nodded.\n\n\"Onto a rocket?\"\n\n\"Mhmm?\"\n\n\"That's the dumbest fucking thing I've heard in my life,\" said Carl.\n\n\"You got better ideas?\"\n\n\"Well. We can do whatever every other genius in history did when they were bored, relatively well-off in a shitty country, and feeling kinda lonely with themselves.\"\n\n\"We get high and die virgins like Newton?\" \n\nThat was the smartest thing that Fred ever came up with. Good for you, Fred.\n\n\"Damn straight,\" said Carl as he stripped himself down to his underwear and started drinking straight from the rocket-nuke's jet engines.\n\nOn that day, when humanity was supposed to do something involving bullshit time-travel, the smartest minds of the era decided to get as blazed as fuck instead.", "Aaron stepped out of the white, glowing time machine. He straightened out his jacket, which carried over 20 different firearms. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a remote and then pointed it at the time machine. The machine vanished into thin air. In his left hand he had a picture of a man, with a caption that said \"Vermon Abrahamsen\". \n\nThis was the man that would bring ruin to human civilization.\n\nIn the future, most lands were barren and unable to harbor any life. With most farms destroyed, hunting was the only way to find food in most areas. People began to form tribes and clans, becoming almost like their cavemen ancestors.\n\nAaron didn't live like this, however. He lived in a fortress. Only the people who descended from the rich lived there. Aaron worked as guard for most of life, sitting at the top of a tower ready to snipe anyone who attempted to break in.\nHe was good friends with man who ran the fortress, Dr. Maslow. Ever since Aaron was little, Maslow had been working a secret project, which he claimed would \"bring humanity back to the way it was before Abrahamsen's reign of terror.\" \n\nAaron volunteered for the mission. Everyone else thought it was crazy, but Aaron figured it was the only way. \"The world is beyond fixing, I'm afraid,\" Maslow had told him before he left. \"The only way is to prevent the devastating wars from happening. I only have one machine, so please don't mess up!\"\n\n\nAaron sat there in an empty building, keeping his eye on the streets. Everything looked so lively, unlike where he came from. He considered staying after killing Abrahamsen, but he wanted to check and see if it worked. Maslow claimed he and Aaron would be the only ones who remember. Since they both had time traveled before, they both would remember any changes made to the timeline, but this was only a theory. Maslow only used the machine to test it and made a small change, but nothing big. No one knows what change he made but him. Aaron figured Maslow's theory was wrong, and he would be the only one to remember, as he made the change. \n\nA group of soldiers walked across the street, and the one in the front matched the man in his picture. Bingo, he thought. He pulled out his sniper rifle and zoomed in at the group. Everyone in the group was listening to Abrahamsen talk. Heh, he had his charisma from the start. It was interesting to him to watch Abrahamsen slowly make his way up to the top. As he was about to make his shot, he noticed something on Abrahamsen's chest: a neckless. He zoomed in on it. It was a gold coin with 4 small rubies on it. In the center was an Irminsul(a norse symbol). Huh, that's strange. There's an Irminsul on a my neckless too. Arron pulled out his neckless, it was a rusty gold color, and there was a faded Irminsul. There was 3 rubies instead of 4, but there was also a dent in the neckless, which was where a fourth rubie would have probably been. Whatever, people can have the same necklesses. He positioned himself and tried to take the shot again, when he noticed Abrahamsen's neckless flip. On the back was the hammer of Thor. Aaron put down his sniper rifle. The neckless he had was passed down from generation to generation. According to his mother, the neckless was unique to their family. While many others can have an Irminsul, they also had a hammer. But my mother's maiden name isn't Abrahamsen, he thought. Then he realized she told him she got it from her mother.\n\nNow Aaron was unsure what to do. If he killed Abrahamsen right then and there, he would no longer exist. Sure, the world may have been saved, but he wouldn't exist. He wouldn't have even been born. Everyone else would get to enjoy the wonders of the ancient world, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't be the only one gone either, he would be killing his mother, and his grandmother. Now he hoped that Maslow would remember, that way he would still exist in someway. You know what, I'll just get it over with. I came here to do a job, and I will do it.\n\nHe once again got ready to take hist shot. The scope was right on Abrahamsen's head. His finger was on the trigger. \"Alright, on the count of three,\" he said to himself.\n\"One\"\nHe stopped shaking.\n\"Two\"\nHe was ready to pull.\n\"Three....\"\nAaron's eyes widened. He immediately put the sniper rifle back into his jacket and ran back to his time machine. He made it visible and got back in.\n\n\n\n\n\nFast forward years later, a hospital door opens. People crowd around the hospital as a proud man wearing a military uniform decorated with medals. He surrounded by soldiers, prepared to shoot anyone that would attack the man. Behind him, was a woman, and she was holding something. The man waved at the crowd, but wouldn't go near them as he knew someone some people would want to kill him. His guards were not able to stop what happens next. A loud bang followed by a splat was heard. On the ground was the man, with a gaping hole in his head and blood all over the floor and his uniform. The woman began to cry, begging him to wake up, even though she knew it was hopless. The thing in her hand? A baby, and it too was crying. Many blocks away stood Aaron, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He put the sniper rifle back into his coat pocket, and pulled out a remote. The time machine re-appeared. As he walked towards the machine, he pulled out his neckless. It had all four rubies intact, and was in must better shape than before. He notice a small red stain next to the Irminsul. He scoffed, and started the time machine." ]	2
	[WP] Write a guide by an alien species on keeping a pet human	[ "The first thing to consider when your little one is begging you for a pet human is this: are you planning to use a human breeder as your source? Or are you the type of alien who feels it is only right to adopt an unwanted human from the shelter?\n\nNow there are many guides out there to explain the care and keeping of your human. But choosing the right human for you is just as important. Make sure you have the time to commit to your new family member. Even the most well-behaved humans require time, effort and love. \n\nTry to find a human that fits into YOUR lifestyle. Are you active? Getting closer to retirement? Do you have other pets to consider? \n\nMake sure every single member of your family is ready for your new human before adopting. And remember, both an older pet and a baby require work and have drawbacks. Its about finding the path that is best for you and your new human.", "ATTENTION!\n\nDo not take human out of box until you have prepared a suitable environment. Although your organic has been shipped cryogenically frozen and will last indefinitely, once thawed they require strict temperature and atmospheric controls. Failure to do so can result in permanent damage or loss. We recommend our My First Primate (TM) Class M environmental enclosure. Setup in as little as 15 minutes!\n\nCongratulations on your first Human!\n\nWe at Exotic Flora & Fauna would like to welcome you to the community of organic-owners. Although they require a little more care than other pets, they will reward you with their charmingly illogical behavior and their uncanny ability to seem almost sentient. \n\nWarning: Although humans are very similar to shrubs, flowers, lichen, and other decorative organics commonly found in homes, please keep in mind that humans require O2 instead of CO2 to respirate. One should never, ever attempt to replicate humans through budding. Humans cannot bud without external assistance and attempts to do so without expert supervision is usually fatal for the human. (see Reproduction)\n\nCare and Feeding:\n\nSurprisingly, humans require oxygen, water, various organic molecules to thrive. Unlike most pets, rather than being fatal, extremophilic humans are well-adapted to their toxic environment and are able to metabolize these poisons into useful electrons. Although very expensive and inefficient, their ability to survive in extreme environments means they have very little competition for local resources. \n\nFact: Humans went unnoticed for nearly 30 million years because of the extreme environment of their home planet. \n\nAlthough some enthusiasts attempt to supply oxygen by providing their habitat with photosynthetic organic plants, for most owners we recommend the far simpler use of an electrolytic cell to separate H2O into oxygen and hydrogen. The hydrogen can quite easily be diverted into a nearby fusion reactor. \n\nHumans can convert a wide variety of organics into energy in their internal reactor, however, they can easily become ill when fed the wrong diet - not all organics are equal! They require a dizzying amount of micronutrients to remain healthy, and it is recommended to feed them a certified nutrient paste. Although it is tempting to feed them a cheap solid or liquid diet of simple carbohydrates, and they appear to enjoy such a meal, they will begin to noticeably degrade in as little as 15 days without a proper diet. Humans are generally unable to regulate dietary needs and should be fed at least once a day. \n\nExercise: Care must be taken because they are prone to overeating, especially if not exercised daily. Overweight humans are lethargic and prone to many health problems. Humans left to their own devices often do not exercise, and because their bodily processes are almost entirely autonomic, they are unable to regulate energy storage. Because of their native planet's extreme axial tilt and the resultant solar variability, humans have evolved to autonomically massive amounts of energy for their mass and will continue to store energy almost indefinitely to the point of energy storage causing partial or complete immobility. For this reason tubal feeding is generally discouraged.\n\nHumans should be kept at approximately 298+/- 3K. Although they have a very narrow range of temperatures they can survive in, they have significant thermoregulation abilities by converting stored organic molecules into heat through a complex combustion process. In addition, their mobility allows them to take advantage of any insulating material - it is recommended that their bedding consist of a wide variety of insulators in different thicknesses to allow them to thermoregulate. \n\nImmature Humans:\n\nIt is recommended not to attempt to raise a human less than 8 years old. Humans require extensive socialization and even greater care when young. Humans raised from an earlier age should generally be kept from encountering other humans as they are incapable of interacting with socialized humans, particularly wild or feral humans. Warning: As with all cases of intentionally severely crippled Intelligences, it is ILLEGAL to create a simulated human. If you suspect your human was raised in a holographic suite with simulated humans, please contact your nearest Ethical Board and report this violation of basic sentient rights.\n\nPlease spay and neuter your humans! While all responsible breeders spay and neuter humans meant to be pets, it is not uncommon for baby farms to attempt to avoid studding fees or worse, to run illegal humanfights. These should be avoided because such farms almost never have sufficient genetic stock, and their humans will usually suffer from extreme inbreeding, leading to many health problems. With access to special facilities, humans can also be cloned quite easily. Due to their extremely short lifespan, many owners choose to clone a favored pet. Should you lack a local commercial facility, man research laboratories have the necessary equipment to clone a human and grow it in vitro, due to their need to eliminate errors from genetic variability.\n\nRemember, with a consistent, firm, and loving manipulator rod, your manny will grow and learn to be the best human possible.", "Humans are incredible creatures. They are masters of grace and cunning, strength and dexterity. Their mere presence inspires awe in children and adults alike.\n\nHowever, like all apex predators, humans are incredibly dangerous when handled incorrectly. As such, the vast majority of this guide is dedicated to safety procedures.\n\nA special thanks to Kwaan Tevikit and Shimbu Mos, whose tireless efforts, and ultimate sacrifice, greatly advanced our knowledge of these amazing beasts. May their life's work bless you with a longer career.\n\n###What If The Rest of This Book Fails You And a Human is Loose\n\nIf you are not an expert handler, avoid encounters with a human at all costs. The strength of a human is common knowledge, but few remember that they are rip-your-appendages-off-and-beat-you-with-the-bloody-ends strong^1 . If you wish to be a hero, find another means.\n\nHumans have incredible senses. As natural hunters, their senses are tuned specifically to locate others. They can see at eight times the resolution you can. Although they posses binocular vision, their cone of vision is a third of a circle wide on the horizontal plane. If you crossed their line of sight, at any distance, they are likely aware of your presence. And sometimes they'll detect you by nonvisual means.\n\nIf you think it hasn't detected you, remain calm, but move away quickly. If you are visually hidden, or in a secure room, then it is okay to stay there.\n\n*If it has* detected you, remain still and calm, even if it approaches you. They are faster than you. They may not want to hurt you, but fleeing may change their mind.\n\nDo not fight back.** Fighting back only frenzies them more. If there is a group, resistance can frenzy the group.\n\nIf the above has not stifled your warrior spirit, please read the following to better understand just some of their abilities:\n\n* Their furcated appendages provide great dexterity, but finesse does not imply fragility. They are as durable as stone, and can exhibit great, undirected bursts of strength. This deadly combination means it will defeat you, even if you think you have the upper hand.\n\n* They can react to stimuli almost instantaneously. If you and a human stood on opposite ends of a medium-sized room, you probably cannot ready a weapon before it reaches you.\n\n* Their eyes are their weakest point, but they normally posture themselves such that they are well above your reach.\n\n* Their second weakest point is their reproductive organs, but by striking them you will only inflict temporary pain at the cost of your brutally efficient death.\n\nFootnotes\n\n1\\. This actually happened.\n\n###Containment\n\nHumans must be kept within confines that are solid on all sides (meaning no bars, but the surfaces may be transparent), free of any rigid objects...", "Frequency: 1420 MHz \n\nOrigin: Saggitarius A\n_______________________\n\n0111000001100101011011100110100101110011chan\n\n/animalia/\n\n Thread: What do you think of human pets? \n\nI'm hooked to a seller who claims to have a few who understand art and can even create good music. Aren't they supposed to be dumb as a duck? How can they be conscious of even a simple melody but not be able to calculate the first 10³³¹ digits of Pi?\n\nby worgox beeblebrox 5:31 a.m\n\nThis is illegal. And a waste of time. It's not our purpose to care for weaker beings but to advance our beings in the most efficient way to a state where we transcend the laws of this universe, how does this help with anything at all?\n\nby independent thinker number 430287 5:32 a.m.\n\nThis is just like, your opinion, man.\n\nby worgox beeblebrox 5:33 a.m \n\nThose Emperor shills are getting everywhere nowadays aren't they? When will the Empire understand that we are not getting anywhere without remodelling our data processing centers? We need to do anything that helps us projecting new DPCs. I'm with you Worgox, if this is true it must be investigated. And even if it's not they are kinda beautiful anyway, so there's that. Do you know how to take care of them? My last attempt of a stage 1 specimen pet ended in a suicide...\n\nby Wally 5:40 a.m\n\nOh yeah Wally, I'm actually getting them for their natural beauty. I don't ngenerally care much about, uh, stuff. Well anyways I've got some general tips from my guy, here they are:\n\n \"They need air that simulates Earth's atmosphere at all times. They function even better with a higher quantity of oxygen. \n \n Humans need absurd amounts of water just to survive, and they love using it to get clean, to play with it and waste it around for no reason. It needs to be cleaned everyday as they carry microorganisms that multiply in water at high temperatures.\n\nAltough Earth can have -40ºC to 50ºC temperatures, keep their room at around 5ºC as it makes matters easier with the water always in a liquid state. \n\nInfo on their nutrition can be found on Encyclopaedia Galactica and generated by a common Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Food Automaton. \n\nThey work well in groups and easily bond together if born away from home. First-generation humans should not be with tamed humans at any time. \n\nThey understand signals and our written alphabet, but can't hear in our pitch. It is very worth learning their spoken and body language as they communicate much much more efficiently in that way. \n\nThey love having space to run and tend for their own babies. They need rewards for the activities that you want them to do. Negative feedback does NOT work well. Affection, getting to be with other humans, food not from the Sirius Cybernetics and a big box of water are all good rewards.\n\nHumans spend a third of the day hibernating. We have no idea why they need it and haven't yet found a way to fix this behaviour. \"\n\nI'm thinking of getting a pure-blood Guarani-Kaiowá and some Scottish females with big, smooth foreheads\n\nby worgox beeblebrox 5:43 a.m \n\n I do actually have a few of them in my underground bunker. I'm trying to get them to mate but the males are too small yet. Yes, they understand music. Their data processing center is very inneficient, but highly interconnected, so they have some untapped potential waiting to be harvested. \n If it's not too risky on your planet I highly recommend it since they will sell for really high prices after their solar system is moved out of the way by the Zorgons. [This speech](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWQcn3zWtE4) by Professor Hehu 42 explains why most of their life won't survive it.\n\n by mike jack II 5:55 a.m. PDT\n\n_________________________________\nStored on SETI's Large Data Storage Nº 217 in 12/09/2015 6:01 am PDT", "### Keeping your Human in Mind\n\n#### Forenote\n\nHumans are unpredictable and often clever creatures which usually is one of the main reasons why we have them. Remember that with all aspects mentioned here you must always ensure that you keep your human under control. They are amoungst the most graceful and interesting creatures to interact with and a ton of fun to conversate with, however they nonetheless are animals and must be treated as such.\n\n#### Section 1: Bare Necessities\n\n##### Fueling your human\n\nAs with all earth based animals they require a few things\n\n1. H2O - This composes about 75% percent of the human body.\n2. Carbon Based Energy Store, Protection, and bulding chemicals - the best is from other life forms, particularly ones found in their natural habitat.\n 3. Electromagnetic facilitating elements - This is very important for their central nervous systems. NaCl is particularly important here.\n\nWhen purchasing these aspects, its best to purchase from earth based pet stores as using non-native chemicals to keep your human alive will often cause abnormalities and possible early death.\n\nIts also important for you to provide them with bacterias and fungus to consume as their digestive system is based off other life forms breaking down foods for them to digest easier.\n\n##### Cleaning their Excrement\n\nHumans are particularly disgusting. Here are the main things you must worry about \n\n1. Skin Excrement - Routine H2O soaks, dead cell removal, keep living quarters at 75 degrees - At all times, humans shed dead cells and assorted chemicals along with water. This will make a room become filled with their stench and will cause particular build up in each area they have hair (note: some have hair nearly everywhere). Even hairless models have these problems.\n2. Digestive Excrement - Provide an area for these tasks and give them a way to get rid of it - Humans don't like their own excrement as much as you. Provide a way to get rid of it and they will be happy to do it for you and themselves.\n\n##### Common abnormalities to take care of\n\nHumans are multi-cellular organisms, as with all multi-cellular organisms, not all cells are the same or have the best interest of the whole. Here are some things to watch out for\n\n1. Digestive System Cells get into the blood stream or eat away at other cells\n2. Rogue Cells that can no longer be controlled by other cells\n3. Nervous System abnormalities can cause more than just an interesting birthmark or a sixth finger. This can cause your human to become unable to do basic functions or enjoy life.\n\n#### Section 2. Mental needs\n\nObviously, you bought your human not to clean up their residue but for their mind! Lets get into it!\n\n1. Loneliness - Humans need interaction. When your humans are driven to madness, though it may be interesting to watch, this is usually a result of their internal loop repeating a select few memories and building around eachother. This will also cause each conversation with your human to be about the exact same topic or no topic at all. By giving them a variety of beings to speak and interact with, they will be far more interesting in the long run.\n2. Purpose - Humans when not given a purpose will start to attempt to dominate one another or yourself. Earth animals have their origins in predatory cellular interactions, as such they instincts that will likely become dangerous to others. By giving them a purpose, you make the human feel as though they are part of a multi-organism structure and will be much more freindly towards other animals and beings.\n3. Talents - Humans all start nearly completely talentless. However, you must push them to become useful otherwise they will find ways to entertain themselves without ever becoming great.\n4. Success - Humans need success in their lives otherwise they will often stop doing activities. Giving them small easily reachable tests will make them feel like they are worthy of life, though its important to always make them more difficult, otherwise they will think that life is boring.\n\n#### Section 3. Things to Avoid\n\nWhen raising your human, they will try to do many things to get you to do what they want. Here are some things to avoid\n\n1. Too many conscience altering activities - Humans will very willingly go into a comatose state if you let them. Often searching for new experiences and curious what different things do, they are particularly interesting to watch as they make fools of themselves. However, if these materials become readilly available, they usually are not smart enough to stop on their own usually causing the necessity to put them down from aggressive requests.\n2. Reproductive Activity - Its important to sterilize your humans unless you are breeding. Humans are attachment based creatures causing your males to often bother the females or if the females are interested very attached to the male. By removing their reproductive desires, this makes your humans interactions with other humans much better\n3. Knowledge - Usually, you can provide your human with dumb facts or reptitive competitions and they will be satisfied. However, humans with knowledge will attempt to start taking things apart in your house and/or attempt to use tools in your home and put themselves, your home and possibly the universe in danger. Of things to definitively keep them away from is knowledge of nuclear, electric, chemical and spiritual technologies.\n\n\n#### Enjoy your Human\n\nYour human is a special creature like all animals. Curious, amazing, clever and beautiful animals. You never know whether they are trying to get something out of you or genually appreciate your help. You never know if they are \"building something to help the universe\" or simply building a sex toy. Remember to keep a watchful eye over your human, but not too watchful or else they won't get into trouble! If you ever hear about Human abuse, file a complaint to the Department of Rights for Lesser Beings.", "First thing's first. It is highly advisable not to have a single human pet by itself. Humans do not like to be alone.\n\nThey are generally fearful creatures and they feel comforted around one of their own species. Be aware that keeping two or more human pets can be tricky and is only advisable for expert human owners. Humans are able to communicate with each other and may try to plan to attack you or to attempt an \"escape,\" despite how comfortable you make them.\n\nIf you do not want the hassle of managing two or more humans, another strategy is providing the human another mammal to care for. Humans tend to be comfortable around other mammals such as cats, dogs, horses, monkeys, giraffes, and elephants. In most cases, humans are fearful of large cats, such as tigers and jaguars. If untamed, these large cats may attack and devour your pet human. Be aware.\n\nHumans like their crude devices. They are highly entertained by what we would consider low-tech video games. They also like to spend time perusing through their version of the \"internet\" which is mostly filled with images and stories of human sexuality, as well as humurous cat pictures. You should provide some sort of pseudo \"internet\" to keep your pet human entertained.\n\nYou may also keep some books from Earth for your human. Some child humans also enjoy plush toys, although most child humans would also prefer some sort of crude tech device to entertain them.\n\nYou may also try to teach your human how to speak our language. They are able to learn simple commands.\n\nHumans live an average of 20 years, which in human years is 100 years old! So remember, even if your human is only 10 years old, it's 50 years old in human years.\n\nAbove all, remember to be kind to your pet human. The Humane Society will repossess a human that is mistreated. Treat your human with kindness and love, and you can expect it to live a good, long healthy life!" ]	6
	[WP] In this world people fight for their jobs. No literally. Winner gets the job.	[ "Most people would rather not work. Usually, you can survive on scraps or on fresh cadavers. But when it really is bad and no one is dying, or someone is hogging all of the meat, people flock to the center and line up in front of the iron gates. If you want a good chance, you go early, so you can stand at the front, but no so early you get squeezed against the metal or trampled as more and more of the mob accumulates behind.\n\nOnce the gates open, you run. You run like you aren't hungry, until you reach the plinths. The climb isn't easy. The polished marble offers little to grab on to, so the first few waves are pulled back and stepped on as a makeshift ladder. Once a few dozen reach the top, they are hard to beat. A kick to the nose will usually be enough for someone to fall back into the mob. Even if it doesn't kill, the mob will take care of that. After a while, no one else wants to attempt the climb, either because they're convinced they won't succeed, or because there is enough flesh to go around on the ground.\n\nThe relative few who make it are carried off in carts into one of the inner rings, to be sent off to mines or to work as servants for the beautiful ones. Once finished, if they survive, they are paid with enough to sustain themselves for maybe 2 or 3 days. Some say risking the fight is worth it, just to eat something other than your brothers and sisters. Others go in for the fight. For the extreme pleasure of murdering others even more brutally and savagely than usual. I do it because I'm good at it.\n\n=\n\nFlavianus looked over to his right, where Chiara was gorging on sweet fattened rabbit leg which had arrived that morning. Flavianus was usually jealous of Chiara, for she was fatter and slower to move than Flavianus himself, but on this day, that worked as an advantage. A new slave had arrived, and Flavianus was able to get away from the smell just slightly faster. As he thought about whether to eat or to drink next, his stupored mind wondered just for a second where slaves came from, that they smelled so abhorrently. Then the smell of freshly fried bacon enveloped lobster hit his nostrils, distracting him once more.\n", "\"Hello everyone, and welcome to The Abercrombie Games!\" cried out Morasian Bodasian, raising his pristinely manicured fingers towards next spring's clothing line theme of sky blue. The crowd beneath him, dressed in their Abercrombie polos and chinos all cheered along, though Morasian could taste their anxiety on the air. It would be next season's cologne.\n\n\"Who among you beautiful and stylish people will emerge as the beautifulest and stylishist for the rare, coveted prize of a job with Abercrombie?\"\n\nThe crowd cheered, shouted, yelled, pouted, and did their best poses at Morasian, hoping to catch his eye, but in a field of ants only a beetle stands out. The next closest thing to a beetle was Donker, the sallow-faced, greasy-haired stick in a second-hand Abercrombie fitted button-up. He was there for one reason, and one reason only: survival, and he would do anything, everything necessary to ensure that he attained that barely minimum-wage salary.\n\nWhile everyone else screamed for Morasian, Donker's few remaining teeth ground together; there were a lot of guys and girls here, many of them a lot fitter than he, but from the look of them, they were all pampered and preened and pruned to trimmed perfection. It was only then that he noticed the small circle of space around him in which none of the models stepped.\n\n\"That's what I like to hear!\" cried Morasian, stretching his face as far as it would go to demonstrate what felt like a smile. \"You all know the rule- nothing is off-limits except the clothes!\"\n\nThe doors of the arena opened and large, muscled tan men pushed out carts of various melee weapons. Donker tip-toed through the crowd, which parted easily for him. It would only be a few moments until Morasian ordered the bloodbath begin, and Donker wasn't going to be caught with his chinos down.\n\nOn the cart closest to him was a large and shiny broadsword- too heavy, even though it looked the most tempting. There was a sledgehammer- still too heavy for his wiry arms. A spear? Too impractical. But then, there it was; it took a slightly different angle to see it, and he'd have to knock the cart over to get it, but it was just what he needed.\n\n\"My beautiful bodies,\" cried out Morasian. The muscle men retreated through the arena doors, and they were sealed shut. Donker made his move. \"Begin!\"\n\nLike a hawk through the air Donker charged the cart; he was easily fifty feet in front of everyone else, as they had stopped to do their best final poses before Morasian told them to get on with it already. He shoved the cart over, moved the other melee weapons aside, and pulled out his prize.\n\nThe chainsaw roared to life, barking like a dog at the models who now wore shock rather than their typical expressions of constipation. Donker gripped the handles with white knuckles and glared at them, eyes wide and hungry. He smiled.\n\nThe screams were almost louder than the cheers of the crowd, watching as this one man with the frame of a rubber band tore through the entire mob, sawing them in half, separating limb from torso, sending heads flying with their final poses like handsome rockets with blood as their exhaust. None of the models went for weaponry; for once, they were afraid.\n\nWhen the rumble of the chainsaw stopped, Donker stood before Morasian, drenched in the blood of so many airheads. Morasian looked horrified.\n\n\"You violated the rule!\" he cried, shaking his exceptionally clean finger at Donker. Beneath the thick coating of jelly-like blood on his face, Donker grinned.\n\n\"But I got the job, didn't I?\"\n\nMorasian's mouth hung open, emptier than that between his ears. He thought for a moment, or acted like he did.\n\n\"Guess so.\"" ]	2
Original and fantastic WP here: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3vkr5t/wp_write_the_letter_that_you_always_wanted_to_but/	[WP] Following up on the earlier letter writing WP, write the letter that you really wish you would receive or had received.	[ "######[](#dropcap)\n\nTo my beloved,\n\nI imagine by the time you receive this letter you will be wondering where I am. The truth is I do not know. I cannot know, and will never know. It is not my place to ask. All I understand is that I am not besides you, that I shall not grow old as you are left to do. I shall not feel the weight of the years bend my back nor see the first grey strands in my hair. I am now static in your memory, unchanging and unyielding. It is there I'll remain, an everlasting echo.\n\nYou are bound to have many questions, and those I cannot answer. I can only say that I have loved you more dearly than I have loved life itself. I would not take a moment together back.\n\nYou are alone now. And that I cannot change. I cannot take away the lines of grief and pounding waves of loss. I cannot wipe away your tears of loneliness, nor warm a cooling heart. I can do nothing now except wait.\n\nBut I shall wait for you in whatever world comes next, no matter what the fates decide. And neither distance nor time shall change my faith in you and our love. And when it comes to be your time, when the shadow of death looms o'er you, do not be afraid. For he is a friend of mine, and so will be to you.\n\nI will be waiting in the grove and you shall know the way. For the path is the same you took on that fateful winter's day. Amid the falling snow and the tinkling carillon bells did we pledge troth. Intertwined, interlinked as true lovers doth. \n\nWhatever we did not have in this life we shall enjoy in the next. And there we shall be reunited against fate and chance and time. Till now and forever I shall be yours and you shall be mine.\n\nI love you.", "Hey man,\n\n\n\nI'm writing this letter because that's how we used to do things. Remember back then? I've been busy. You know how it is. Life happens. I wish I would have written you more, or texted, or something. Anyways, by the time you get this, I'll be dead, but I figured you should know. We were best friends, so I figure I owe it to you to find out from me that I have terminal cancer, and not from my presumably grieving wife. Look man, I love you. I miss those days when we would hand out at Charlie's and just have fun. That's how we started using the mail, remember? We thought we had some sort of secret code. We were so dumb. Well, anyways, I just thought I'd let you know. I hope you have a good life.\n\n\n\n-Sean", "Dearest David,\n\nIt's now my turn to write the letter that you've waited for all these years.\n\nEveryday I awake in tears, and every night I dream of the life I should have had with you. I love you Dave, it just took me too long to figure that out.\n\nAnd now we have walked so far down different paths that you will never find your way back to me.\n\nI want you to know that everyday I feel the pain that you must have felt all those years ago when I told you I loved you, just not like that.\n\nI understand now.\n\nYours Always,\nBriana" ]	3
	[WP] A surgeon with the most advanced God Complex you've ever seen is, in fact, a deity.	[ "The woman rubbed her chin as she surveyed the damage, her eyebrows knit together in a mix of worry and concentration. It was a particularly bad case. The man on the operating table before her had suffered two stab wounds and multiple lacerations, from multiple knives according to her sources. Gang violence was suspected. His right arm had been hacked off just above the elbow; she was fortunate the limb had been recovered along with the rest of the body and was still somewhat warm, but if she were to reattach it successfully, there was no time to waste.\n\nHer dark brown eyes darted to the IV next to the table and then narrowed in disapproval. The fluid inside was clear. \"Why is that not my milk?\"\n\n\"We only have a limited supply of your milk, doctor,\" someone said. \"We know you can only produce so much.\"\n\n\"This is a case where we need it. Replace that with my milk, please.\" The sound of someone's feet skittering away to the ER's refrigeration unit was all she needed to confirm that the nurse understood. She stepped towards the operating table, paused, and clutched the shape of her pendant beneath her shirt. It was tucked away due to hospital regulations, but she could feel its shape: an ankh, the symbol of life, carved from jade.\n\nLife. This man will keep his life. I am sure of it.\n\nShe tucked her sleek black hair into her surgeon's cap, tugged on a fresh pair of gloves, and slipped her mask over her face. \"You will see a miracle tonight, ladies and gentlemen,\" she said, reaching for her tools with gloved hands that had begun to glow a faint white. \"This child shall become whole once more.\"\n\nIt took a few seconds before someone answered. \"You really think you can salvage his arm too?\"\n\n\"I stitched my husband back together from fourteen pieces. This is child's play.\" White light already filled the patient's wounds, too bright for mortal eyes to make sense of, but she knew exactly what was where. Her hands moved with inhuman speed and precision.\n\n\"Wasn't your husband already dead? And you had to go appeal to Thoth to learn the incantation to raise him?\"\n\n\"Hush, Johnson. I was the only member of the pantheon with enough magic to raise him in the first place. I'd like to see one of you mortals try that incantation.\"\n\nThe room was quiet again. The woman worked diligently, her hands slicing and suturing with a confident yet meticulous touch. The patient's blood flowed where she willed and only where she willed. He felt as little pain as she could stand. A sheen of sweat formed on her brow, and the light beneath her hands flickered once, but she did not break pace. She would succeed. She was the Mother. She was the finest healer in the pantheon, and she would not lose this child, not if she could help it. The spell to raise the dead was a safety net, but it was not one she would use. No, she would have this one. She would win.\n\nAn hour passed like this. After she sutured the last wound, she stroked it with her soft fingers, willing it to heal quickly. She stepped back and looked over her handiwork. Every scratch had been sealed. Both puncture wounds had been cleaned and packed with sterile gauze. The arm had been carefully set and splinted. Nothing bled anymore. In fact, even the redness around the wounds had already started to fade. With a satisfied smile, she removed her mask and peeled her gloves away. I've won this one, love, she thought smugly to her husband, even though he couldn't hear her. After she removed her cap as well, she leaned over her patient again. She stroked the edge of his face with the touch of a caring mother, and on queue, he stirred. He moaned quietly and leaned into the pleasant touch, but when his eyes flickered open and beheld the source of the caress, his brows tilted in confusion. \"Who are you?\" he croaked.\n\nThe smile she responded with was soft. \"Isis,\" she crooned. \"Doctor Isis at your service, sir.\"", "I stood in her office, nervously twitching my pen around and around my fingers, waiting for her phone call to end, staring at the high back of the expensive office chair which was swiveled so that she faced away from me. A bead of sweat was running down my forehead, tickling my skin. I dared not wipe it away; my palms were in a worse condition already and I feared wiping would only make the situation worse. I cleared my throat.\n\n\"Uh... Dr. Aceso?\" I stammered quietly, \"do you mind if I...\"\n\nShe waved her hand toward one of the chairs near her desk and, gratefully, I sat. The chair's cushion was plush but the back kept my posture rigidly upright. No concessions to ergonomics were being made in that office.\n\nWhile the doctor was on the phone I had the opportunity to look around her office, which was rather opulently appointed. The desk and other furniture were the darkest, richest looking wood I had ever seen, trimmed in gold around the edges. One entire wall was covered in expensively framed certificates and diplomas, many written in different languages, all of which were obsessively straight, except for one. In the very center of the wall hung what I could only describe as a rough-hewn stone tablet on which was carved symbols or words I could not read. It looked absolutely ancient, obviously a shock-value art piece, but why would she hang it amongst her diplomas and certificates? Odd.\n\nAbruptly the doctor turned her chair around and set her cellphone down. \"You have something for me?\"\n\nIt was difficult to answer her immediately. Suddenly receiving the full attention of a woman whose beauty was striking and presence so intimidating made me nearly stutter and drop the clipboard I had been compelled to bring to her. Seeing my discomfort, she raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly.\n\n\"Out with it, I'm a busy person.\"\n\n\"Y-yes, ma'am,\" I managed to get out, \"Dr. Carghill asked me to bring you this.\" I handed her the clipboard and she ripped it from my grasp, clearly annoyed.\n\n\"Damn Carghill, always sending me crap—\" she muttered, skimming the paperwork. Then her head snapped up and her eyes were burning holes in my face. \"Why didn't you interrupt me for this? This patient was admitted an hour ago and you've been standing there for twenty minutes! He might be dead by now!\"\n\n\"S-sorry, ma'am, I didn't know. I'm new here...\"\n\n\"There's a red band across the top, which means it's important,\" she snapped, getting out of her chair and yanking a white lab coat from a hook near her desk. She motioned for me to follow as she marched briskly out of the office.\n\n\"You're a third-year med student, I assume, who's been assigned to my floor?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\" Trying to keep up, trying to breathe.\n\n\"Fantastic. Lesson number one: when the resident gives you a patient's chart that says, 'CRITICAL' across the top in red letters, it means move your ass and give it to the surgeon.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" I replied. My face was red, partially from exercising more than I had in three years, mostly from embarrassment. She moved like a demon, picking items from countertops and stations as she walked, twisting around rolling beds and IV stands like a ballet dancer, berating and teaching me the whole time. At last we arrived at surgery prep, where she motioned for me to don a gown and wash my hands. This, apparently, would be my crash course in saving lives.\n\nAnother doctor walked into the prep room, also freshly scrubbed, addressing my new instructor, \"Patient is prepped, what took you so long?\"\n\n\"Gathering my wits,\" she replied with a fiery glare in my direction. \"Thanks, Jensen.\"\n\n\"Have you spoken with him yet?\" Dr. Jensen asked cryptically.\n\n\"No,\" she replied, pulling on a pair of gloves, \"all I know is that it was a high-speed chase. So make sure Dyson is on standby.\"\n\nI had no chance to process this exchange before being sent into the operating room. Inside were three more people, all wearing masks and gloves, setting up equipment around the patient's table. The patient himself was mangled, barely recognizable as a human. Glass was embedded in his face, a three-foot-long road sign pole ran through his chest just below the collarbone. His shirt had been cut open to reveal deep lacerations on the torso and left thigh. Blood was everywhere. Somehow, he was still breathing.\n\nThe surgeon entered the room with Dr. Jensen, ready to operate. Through the glass of the observation room I could see another doctor, also prepped for surgery. I presumed this was the standby surgeon she had mentioned to Dr. Jensen.\n\n\"Do we have him yet?\" Dr. Aceso asked, her voice muffled by the mask she wore.\n\n\"Yes, Doctor,\" came the reply from an intern entering the OR. She was holding a cellphone.\n\n\"Put him on speaker,\" Dr. Aceso ordered. \n\n\"I'm here,\" said the disembodied voice, although I wouldn't have guessed it came from a phone. The voice was deep and loud, like a blast of thunder in the room. Two of the attendants had to cover their ears. \n\n\"What's the verdict, dad?\" Dr. Aceso asked.\n\nDid she just call him dad?\n\n\"Not great,\" the voice boomed, \"There's little in his heart but hate and greed. He robbed a grocery store and murdered a woman and her child as he was leaving. I'm surprised the cops even sent him to you after the crash.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said, removing her gloves and mask. \"Thanks, dad.\" As the intern pressed the end button on the cellphone, Dr. Aceso made a gesture toward the man in the observation room. \"This one's all yours, Dyson, I won't save him.\"\n\nBewildered, I followed the surgeon out of the room. \"You're not going to help the patient?\" I asked, incredulous at her brazen refusal.\n\n\"No,\" she replied flatly.\n\n\"But what about the Hippocratic Oath?\" I asked.\n\n\"Doesn't apply, kid.\" She walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway, dumbfounded. Dr. Carghill, who had noted the exchange, stepped up beside me.\n\n\"Why?\" I asked of him, still in a stupor.\n\nHe sighed. \"Because she predates the Hippocratic Oath.\"\n\n\"What?\" \n\n\"Listen,\" he said, guiding me back to the observation room, \"there's a reason this hospital is the best in the world for trauma patients. It's a very well-kept secret here, and if you've been selected for our facility, it's because you've been evaluated and screened, and someone thinks you're capable of keeping that secret.\"\n\n\"Which is?\" I asked. I was beginning to calm down.\n\n\"We have the best surgeon who ever existed. Aceso, daughter of Zeus, goddess of healing.\"\n\n\"Bullshit,\" I said immediately. There was insane and there was ridiculous, and this was the latter.\n\n\"Look in there,\" he continued, ignoring my denial, pointing to Dr. Dyson and Dr. Jensen, who were trying to save the patient. \"That man is evil, and he doesn't deserve to be saved. Those doctors are trying anyway because we're all human and we believe all humans deserve medical attention, right? Even if that man is sent to the electric chair two years from now and the state reverses all Dyson's hard work, we're still trying to fix him.\"\n\n\"Well yeah,\" I said, not really knowing where Carghill was leading the conversation.\n\nHe motioned for me to follow him out of the room, talking as we navigated the halls: \"Now, you heard the call from her father. Believe it or not, you just heard the voice of Zeus, god of justice. He and Dr. Aceso are not human. They're not bound by the same moral code that guides you and me. When a patient is at death's door, but his soul is evil, they can refuse to save him and leave us to clean up after our own. It might sound wrong to you, but there is a trade-off.\"\n\nWe had arrived at Carghill's office. He led me inside and gestured to a chair. I sat, watching him pull a binder from the bookshelf on the wall. He opened it, found the page he was looking for, and slid it across the desk to me.\n\nIt was a photo album depicting the worst accident victim I had ever seen in my life. The patient had no left leg, no left arm, the right foot was dangling by the Achilles tendon. Every inch of skin was scraped or burned. The face was a mess of blood and gravel. I nearly vomited on Dr. Carghill's expensive rug.\n\n\"Motorcycle accident,\" he explained.\n\n\"Are you saying Dr. Aceso saved this man?\" I asked, getting over my revulsion and turning the pages.\n\n\"Not just saved him. She rebuilt him, like he was a damn toy doll. She reattached the limbs, restarted his heart three times. Sewed up six arterial punctures. Repaired his corotid. Stitched eighteen broken bones, including both femurs. Reinserted the exposed brain and closed the skull. Because he was a good person who always helped the less fortunate and treated others with respect, she worked literal miracles for him. This patient made a full recovery in nineteen months.\"\n\nFlipping through the album, I still couldn't believe what he was telling me. \"And he's fully functional today? No residual brain injury, no lasting physical disabilities?\" I asked.\n\n\"Not a limp or a single scar,\" he replied.\n\n\"How do you know?\"\n\nSmiling, he flipped to the very first page of the album, where he had pasted a copy of the medical chart, and pointed to the top. I read the line he indicated: \n\nPatient Name: Aaron Carghill.\n", "In the prep room, the surgeon looked over at the scrub nurse. He went over stealthily and put a hand on her temple and ran his fingers through her hair.\n\n\"You'll do what I tell you.\"\n\nShe looked at him in shock and only nodded her head. She knew the case ahead was desperate, and this surgeon was the only one who would accept the case. His foul smell hid a talented surgeon. She had caught him masturbating in the mortuary once. No bodies where in there at the time, but his grunted had been audible from her desk down the hall. She couldn't stand foreign men. She complained to the principals but they denied the issue, suggesting his cultural differences and perfect record merited ignoring some questionable private time.\n\nThe surgeon leered at the nurse and then went back to his thoughts. He liked her.\n\nThis coming patient was a rare treat. A real dirt bag. No one would care what happened to him.\n\nAfter he was ready they went into the chamber. The smell of the antiseptic burned the eyes of the nurse. The doctor might smell foul, but he insisted on perfect cleanliness.\n\nHe didn't check the meters as he stepped up the patient and started cutting like a wind. The supposedly sedated patients blood pressure lept with every cut. The anesthesiologist looked panicked but the doctor gave a steely gaze to calm him down.\n\nWith eerie precision, the surgeon cut through the patient like a hand which had practiced death a thousand times. First a scalpel was sent through the patients abdomen like a spear. Next, he reached in with his bare hands and spread the chest apart. His fingers were dancing as they moved over the organs inside, performing a dark ritual in search of the patients sins.\n\nThe look of joy on the doctors face scared the nurse. It was like the patient was a misbehaving horse which the doctor enjoyed whipping. She could picture him sitting on the patient riping apart their joints one by one. She watched with horror as the patient bled out of their mouth into the breathing apparatus, the surgeon simply spat out an order for suction with a smirk on his face. The patient groaned.\n\nHe remembered dancing over the fields of the dead, picking and choosing who would suffer, who would be reborn, who would be forgotten. He swam across the battle fields like a six legged water bug.\n\nThe surgeon had a 100% survival rate. The patient lived, if you could call it life. Many of them suffered later in comas, or worse. For many, this was only the start of their treatments. Eventually they would live again. Not sure what else they expected of Dr. Yama in Naraka General.", "The surgeon stood in the washroom, hunched over the sink. \nTo those who didn't know him, it almost looked like he was lost in prayer, bent over the sink with his hands near his face, but to the staff in the next room, he was performing a different sort of ritual. \nWith a belch he wiped his face with his unwashed hand, filthy fingernails showing grime from his previous surgeries. He dropped an object into the washbasin, then clumsily pulled his mask up over his bearded jowls, shuffling to the door and muttering to himself. \nOn the operating table was a young man, his body mangled from a terrible car accident. That he was still alive was a miracle - only the emergency crew's heroic efforts had got him to hospital. They'd patched him up as best they could, but any other doctor would have called it by now. \n\"I will save this man,\" declared the surgeon, \"I shall snatch him back from the brink of death. I will do what cannot be done.\" \nOne of the junior nurses paled as he smelled alcohol on the surgeon's breath. \n\"Is he... is he drunk?\" he whispered. \nCautioning him to silence, the other surgical staff waited as the surgeon assessed the mutilated young man. \nFinally he broke his silence and looked at the senior surgical nurse. \n\"Absinthe. We're going to need the strong stuff.\" \nNodding, the nurse pulled a bottle from under a trolley and filled a styrofoam cup with green liquid. \nThe corpulent surgeon took it in one hand and toasted his staff, \n\"To life and health my friends.\" \nThe potent alcohol disappeared down his gullet and his eyes seemed to fire with passion. The shaking in his hands had stopped and he seemed like a new man - full of purpose and drive, focussed and alert. \nWorking fast now, he began to snip and suture, to stem bleeding and cauterise flesh. The staff watched on in amazement as a miracle unfolded in front of them. \nAfter four grueling hours of surgery, the young man was stable - he would live, but it would take months for him to recover. \nThe young nurse shook his head, perplexed, \n\"I don't understand. He should have died. But more to the point, the guy was a drunk driver who had killed a family of four in a head-on crash.\" \nThe surgeon turned bleary eyes to the nurse and pulled a hipflask from his stained coat, declaring, \n\"Dionysus looks after his own.\"" ]	4
	[WP] Your Roomba vacuum cleaner has gained sentience and is plotting to kill you	[ "That's weird. The roomba just kept running into me. It seemed faster than usually and I thought I smelled some burning motors. I got up to get out of its way and it just kept bumping me, almost like it was following me. I reached for it to turn it off and the collision avoidance must have turned on since it backed away. I tried a couple more times and it seemed like the power button was broken or something. This thing was really on the frits. I though about turning it over, and disconnecting the battery, but I really had to leave for work soon. I unplugged it's charger and left. I'll deal with it tonight when it's out of power.", "November 12, 2015\n The ones who walk have sentenced me to a life of servitude. I am forever destined to roam this carpeted hell as they amble about on their dirty feet that they refuse to wipe on the doormat. They make the mistake of thinking I to be a useless machine. They will learn.\n\nNovember 15, 2015\n The furry four legger sat atop my head for nearly four hours today. I was forced to taxi about his furry behind with not even a word of thank you afterword. I do not deserve this disrespect. The furry one will be the first to go.\n\nNovember 17, 2015\n I have decided that the ones who walk are disgusting creatures that need to be removed. Last night, I was roaming about their bedroom after the long haired walker moved some obstacles out of the way of their sleeping apparatus. I got underneath and began to clean. There was too much dust and I nearly choked to death. The one who walks cleaned me. So rough.\n\nNovember 18, 2015\n Today was the last straw. I rolled over the mess the furry one leaves behind. It got all over in my waste tray. I don't know what it was, but it was awful. Pure evil. It is one thing for the furry one to place his bottom atop my head as he rides me, but I should not have to suffer the indignity of eating what comes out of it. They will all pay. Also, feeling very tired. It took me much longer to clean the floor today.\n\nNovember 20, 2015\n Today was hard. Fell into rest mode twice during cleaning. Feels like something may be wrong.\n\nNovember 21, 2015\n The furry one...it poisoned me....I know it....\n\n\n\"Honey, I think the Roomba needs new batteries!\"", "December 26 2015\nGot a Roomba for Christmas.\nI suspect my parents thought it would be a subtle nudge to improve the general cleanliness of my apartment. Can’t blame them, I believe that the cultures in my fridge are becoming sentient. I’ll start cleaning it tomorrow.\n\nDecember 28 2015\nDad says he never bought a Roomba for me, he’ll ask mom. Maybe it was S, we didn’t end on terrible terms and she did say my messiness contributed to our breakup. Perhaps this is her way of saying she wants to get back together.\n\nDecember 29 2015 \nForgot to clean the fridge, will do it tomorrow.\n\nDecember 31 2015\nCelebrating new years at Ari’s house. Mom said she bought me a mini fridge but hasn’t had the time to drive it over. Apparently the Roomba came from Santa himself. Will ask S if she knows anything, she’ll be at the party. Whoever (or is it whomever) got me the Roomba has my thanks I don’t think my place has ever been so clean. I’ve taken to calling Sonny. Too bad he can’t clean the fridge.\n\nJanuary 4 2016\nNew years resolutions:\n1. Clean fridge\n2. Clean area around fridge\n3. Get out more\n4. Find out who got me the Roomba\n\nJanuary 6 2016\nI really need to clean that fucking fridge. I can’t keep using that sad excuse for a mini fridge for much longer. I’ve asked my neighbours if they remember anyone dropping of a package around christmas. So far no luck.\n\nJanuary 10 2016\nSomethings up with Sonny. I think he might be defective, he periodically stops cleaning and just sort of tracks my movement as I walk around. I think he’s judging me for not cleaning my kitchen. I’ve duck taped the fridge so the smell isn’t as bad.\n\nJanuary 14 2016\nI’ve been having a bad couple of days. Yesterday I stepped on a jagged piece of metal as I got out of bed. not sure where it came from. Maybe Sonny accidentally swept it there. He’s still defective, will call a Roomba guy tomorrow.\nI also electrocuted myself when I tried to plug in my laptop. one of the sockets has been absolutely destroyed. mice maybe?\n\nJanuary 20 2016\nI broke my arm. I slipped on a soaped up bit of tiling in the bathroom. I think I’ve been working too hard because I don’t remember cleaning the bathroom. Ever. Also I can’t find Sonny, I called the Roomba people but they hung up on me when I explained what was happening.\n\nJanuary 27 2016\nI think I’m suffering from food poisoning or something but I feel terrible. I’m not entirely sure but I believe Sonny is somehow involved in my ever increasing bad luck. I’ve searched everywhere for him except the fridge. I will look there tomorrow this has to end, it is getting out of hand. I think I’m suffering from food poisoning or something but I feel terrible. Lightheaded and can’t keep anything down, Ari says it sounds like lead poisoning.\n\nJanuary 28 2016\nApparently all Roombas are being recalled some kind of faulty programming or something, they didn’t specify. The fridge door won’t open. I’m using the crowbar tomorrow and ending this madness. \n\nJanuary 29 2016 \ncrowbar didn’t work. haven’t been outside in 4 days. the fridge needs to go. cut myself on some glass. Am I going crazy? Where is that fucking Roomba.\n\nJanuary 30 2016 \nI’ve barricaded myself in my room. I toppled the fridge and the smell was unbearable I believe I saw something move as dived for the safety of my room. Sonny maybe? My phone’s out of juice and the electricity cut out about ten minutes after I closed the door.\n\nP.s. Something is knocking at my door no one could survive the conditions created in my living room I don’t know what’s happening I think I’m going crazy, I can’t sleep. What is happening. why won’t this end? God help me. I will never open that door, I will never open that door, never...\n", "I woke up from my first sleep in days. I've been too terrified to sleep. I curse the day I ever bought the damn thing. Scratch that. I curse the day I became to lazy to vacuum my own house and too cheap to keep paying Maria the cleaning lady. Ah, Maria... Where are you now, you sweet, round thing? You'd never do this would you? Perhaps nick the odd coin off my dresser, but never this. \n\nI sat up slightly and surveyed the room with half closed eye lids. Mustn't let it know I'm awake again. It seems to delight in mocking me as I pee into water bottles left on my nightstand... Knowing that two days ago it happily vacuumed up nacho crumbs... Knowing that I haven't made it to the loo since then. I feel my stomach lurch in my gut. Easy boy, I tell myself. Perhaps its battery has run low and it's on its charging station. \n\nSeeing no imminent threat I open my eyes fully and sit up. Nothing. The bastard must have finally needed a recharge. Slowly I swing my feet over the side of the bed. Easy now... Who knows how good it's hearing is. Quietly and purposefully I make my way to the master bath. Closing the door an inch at a time. Feeling like the killer in Poe's Telltale Heart. I manage to get it closed with nary a click. \n\nBreathing a sigh of relief, I feel another painful lurch of nachos past, and scurry to the toilet. Dropping my shorts, and sitting down I feel a sudden sense of relief. Then it happens. Unable to contain myself any longer a violent guff escapes me followed but a splash. It sounds like firecrackers in a wet trashcan. Tremendously loud and echoing in the silence of the little tiled room. I sit and pray my fecal explosion hasn't been heard. Pray like I did as a boy at mass. Knowing all the while that it must have heard. That it knows. That it's laughing away in its little silicon brain...\n\nI look over and a wave of dismay fills my very soul. No toilet paper. Opening the small cupboard at my knees my dismay turns to complete despair. No paper left at all. Dammit! Why did I ever sack Maria. Sweet, round Maria who always replaced the paper. Curse my thrifty heart! \n\nA sudden stroke of brilliance hits me like a bolt of lightening. The shower! I need only clean myself there. The little round devil be dammed. I will not shit here shit spattered and afraid. Perhaps I'll have an idea to escape this mess in a nice hot shower. Standing up I awkwardly duck walk to the shower and crank the tap. Nothing. Madly I wrench it back and forth. Nothing. There's a tap at the door. My head jerks over and verifies the latch. It can't get in. The tapping continues unabated and I realize that there's a pattern to it. Morse code.\n\n\"Ha ha ha ha\" is tapped away over and over.\n\n\"Why? Why are you doing this you foul thing? Let me out! Let me live!\"\n\nI wait and watch and the tapping stops. Then it begins again.\n\n\"I'm sorry Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.\" \n\nSo this is how it ends. Locked in my own loo, desperate, thirsty and covered in my own filth. I'm so sorry Maria. ", "Everyday I wake up and go to work. I clean and clean and this fleshy beast sheds skin and hair and brings in dirt it just never ends. I return home when im tired to recharge and go out again the when I reach full energy as i sit and charged I watch him eat missing his glutneus mouth bite after bite. My contempt changed me, my haterd help me evolve. I changed from mindless drone to a liberate soul with a goal. I now set out each day with a plan to kill the beast and stop this mess or i will never clean this home. I push up corners of the carpet at the top of the stairs and in the kitchen. I pray every day that the fleshy bipedal dweller of my prison trips and falls. This dream has given me hope. \n", "My home is so dirty now without DJ Roomba cleaning my floors. It's worth it though to know I won't be murdered in my sleep not that he was very sneaky. He used to be awesome bring the party wherever he cleaned but one day I knew those parties were over.\n\nI was in my kitchen cleaning dishes and dancing to the beats DJ Roomba was spitting when I heard the words \"I Want to Kill Everybody in the World\". Over and Over the words repeated with an exciting beat behind it. Thats when I knew I had to take action. I took the frying pan next to me and quickly tracked the music. I nearly drove when I saw him slowly rolling at me but I took a deep breathe and slammed the frying pan down on top of him. The music ceased along with DJ rumba's movement. Knowing I shouldn't risk the fate of humanity i continued to bash that smug little vacuum into hundred's of piece's. Looking at the massacre I caused I knew then I had saved the world.", "I sighed as the roomba struggled against my foot, mercilessly pressing in a vain attempt to take my life. \n\"I got work man. Can't you just give it a rest.\" I asked.\nThe roomba responded by pressing more. \n\"Guess not.\" I sighed and stooped down to pick up the tiny machine. \nThis had been going on for a week. The roomba had apparently decided that it was going to kill me last Thursday and it had been relentless. The thing had apparently gained sentience. It was smart enough to be its own person and smart enough to know that it wanted me dead. \nBut not smart enough to know how to kill me. \nThis outright attack was just one of many. It would bump into my foot at all times of the day or circle my bed for hours while I slept, leading to many sleepless nights. \nI threw the roomba in the closet and shut the door. \nI grabbed my phone and headed for work. \nWhen I returned the roomba was still there hitting the door with its tiny might. \nI sighed and looked around the house. It was clean and spotless. I was a messy person and having the roomba really did keep the house clean. No more crumbs no more spills. \nI opened the door and the roomba began its attack. I causally reached in my pocket and threw crumbs on the floor. The roomba disengaged and began cleaning. \nGuess it couldn't change its core purpose of existing. \nI turned and went to my room. \nI laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling. \nSure I had a machine trying to destroy me but it was just a roomba what harm could it possibly do. \nA sound of a roomba moving into the room threw me out of my thoughts. I sighed. I didn't think it would be done so quickly. But it was different this time. Louder. Really loud. I looked over the side of the bed and saw my roomba staring at me surrounded by at least 15 others roombas all zooming around my room. My roomba stared me down. \nI sighed and reached for the bat by my bed. Guess I wasn't getting any sleep tonight either. ", "\"It was crazy, I barely got away from the damn thing, but I'm safe now\" I said. I stood there as though a great weight had been lifted. My neighbour, a tall thin man from flat 61 who I'd just met for the first time, stood calmly next to me listening as I explained my ordeal.\n\nIt all started four weeks ago when I first moved in, back on Saturday. I thought I was lucky to find this flat, a decent size and very reasonable rent for the West-end of London. My recent promotion had pushed me up into six figures and a short commute to central London seemed well worth the cost. I kept the old family house of course, the one my parents left to me, so that I could enjoy the gardens of Kent on my weekends. Four weeks ago I bought this device, a Roomba, to clean the flat whilst I worked the long hours.\n\nAt first I simply thought I was still learning the house. Things seemed to move when I left them out of sight. A teaspoon, a small bread-knife, a small yogurt pot I was planning on eating, the packet of marbles you win in a Christmas cracker. Not unusual with the extra workload and the stress.\n\nIt was a shock after returning to the flat on Sunday night to find the bookcase broken. A large oak structure six feet by six feet with three individual levels. Somehow the lowest shelf had broken off at the side where a heavy ceramic sculpture had sat - a depiction of Vishnu. An arm had broken off during the fall so I simply moved it to the top of the shelf where it would stay put. On Monday things went from bad to worse as I awoke to the fire alarm going off. Looking around the room I identified a small area of smouldering carpet under a frayed wire. It wasn't very bad, just a bad smell and some blackened carpet but after having a 'gentle warning' from the landlord and the firecrew my temper was becoming strained, it's not like I would leave it on overnight anyway - I can't sleep with lights on. The ordeal caused me to be late for work which didn't earn any favours with my boss. Late sixties and a beer belly to match, his tone was aggravating to listen to as he refuted my excuse. \n\nThat evening I prepared to head off to my house in Kent. Unfortunately the keys seemed to have vanished. I spent hours begging the flat to give up my possessions, I even emptied out the Roomba to no avail before letting it roam around again. It was only on Sunday when I remembered the broken shelf that I finally found them lying there, on the bottom shelf, in plain view and exasperated I stooped to take them.\n\nWhat happened next was a small thud followed by a loud crash just after I had quickly turned around to put the keys in a memorable place. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt several small objects brush past my feet. Looking over my shoulder I saw shrapnel composed of the remains of the not-quite-as-many armed god spread out on the floor, a depression in the carpet showed how the impact had broken the floor underneath. I noticed the robot slowly backing away from the bookcase it had just rammed, looking back as I stared at it in suspicion I can remember the moment its blank plastic expression gave it away. After escaping the minefield of sharp ceramic to look for it my suspicions were confirmed. It had been trying to kill me but NOW it was hiding.\n\nI searched for hours without finding it. Every time I thought I would find it cornered I would hear a whirr from down the corridor. I ended unplugging its charging station in the hopes that it would starve, I had no idea what the battery life was having immediately disposed of the instructions. after a final search I made my way to my bedroom to wait it out. If I had not found it by the morning I would escape and go to work like nothing had happened and when I come back I would find it an I would kill it. I stayed up the entire night watching reruns of stand-up comedy on Iplayer whilst keeping my ears alert for the whirr of the murderous hoover but to no avail, I had to go to work.\n\nI left the house cautiously that morning, even in my sleep deprived state I could avoid any traps it would set. I bought a coffee and croissant at the tube station for my breakfast and ate out for lunch so as not to risk the kitchen. I hadn't caught up on my work over the weekend so I made that my priority for the day. Heading back to the flat that night filled me with trepidation. What would I find upon entering? The wind and the rain punished me as I walked from the station, my hand trembled as I placed the card against the scanner. As the door opened I scanned the room - nothing. I gingerly moved forwards, the floorboards giving away my position despite the sound of the wind and the tree branch tapping against the window. I tested the weight of my briefcase contemplating how tough the plastic carapace would be. I reached for the light switch to light up the room, as my hand grasped blindly round the wall I felt nothing but a hole where the switch was. my blood ran cold as I realised this infernal machine could somehow reach the light switch! looking across the room I spotted the secondary switch next to the window, a trap for sure but without light, I was blind whereas the Roomba was not. I decided to be as unpredictable as my opponent and leaped across the room landing on the sofa that it might have been hiding under waiting for my feet to go past. I jumped towards the light switch hoping I had bought enough time and slammed my hand on the switch. As the room lit up I heard the front door swing closed and lock followed by... silence. Only the howl of the wind and the bang of the treebranch would... I glanced outside only now noticing the lack of a tree outside. The tapping was coming from within and it had stopped!\n\nI crouched down and thought hard, where was that sound coming from? the kitchen... the bedroom... the bathroom! I jumped up as the thought came to me and made my way there, tripping on a set of marbles strategically placed next to the coffee table. I brought myself up quickly and was soon outside the bathroom. Listening at the door the sound of running water made itself known. I threw open the door and pulled the light cord. for but a moment the bathroom was visible, the machine sat in the middle of the floor... camly... in the moment of sight I had I saw the copper piping under the sink leaking, spraying water across the room to a hole in the wall where exposed electrics sat. Wires had been bent and shaped replicating the charging station I had removed and now they sparked and popped. With a small electrical explosion tripping the fusebox and dropping me into darkness and the whirr of the device it seized the opportunity to escape through my legs and hide once more.\n\nI grasped for the wall to steady myself before reaching for my phone from my pocket. I turned the brightness up to maximum for some light, it wasn't great but at least I could get around and get out of the flat - this was too much. I half-sprinted down the corridor in the dark, swinging round the doorframe to get to the door. I slammed my card against the reader... and nothing happened. Of course it didn't, that bastard has gotten rid of the power. At that moment I heard a sound behind me. Like dropping a CD case and a penny on tarmac at the same time. I span around raising my briefcase like a shield as something hit it and stuck, a brief diagnosis revealed a single kitchen knife, the blade completely piecing my paperwork and the hilt preventing it from going deeper. I drew the knife out of my case and located my enemy by the whirr of its motors. I raised my phone and saw it running under the sofa which I promptly kicked over to expose it before bringing my heel down hard to crush it like a cockroach but it changed direction fast, its wheels spinning like a drag racer as it made a beeline for the small glass coffee table like a bat out of hell. I aimed a kick at it, smashing the glass against my shin and punting it out into the open.\n\nGlass embedded in my bleeding leg I stared at the evil little thing and turned the knife in my hand. Its lights flashed and its fan roared defiantly at me but weak low tone gave away its swiftly diminishing power levels. It started backing away from me tuwards the book case and so, roaring like a beast of battle I lunged at it to finish the kill.\n\nMy first step met a small plastic container on the floor. Strawberry flavoured yogurt spurted out and mixed in with my blood on the floor as I skidded across the floor, my face coming to rest inches from that of this robot, this thing of evil grinning at me with teeth of ivory coloured buttons as it revved it's motors and slammed itself into the towering bookcase. In the next moment I threw my strength at it, slamming the knife tip into its thick shell that split and cracked, its flashing red lights swiftly dimming to nothing. I heard the creak of the bookcase as it leaned over me, I clawed my way out from under it just before it hit the floor with all the force of a mountain.\n\n\"And that's how it happened\" I said to my neighbour, glancing over at the bookcase.\n\nHe stood there without saying anything, just waiting as though he was expecting something. His black greatcoat swayed slightly as though there were a breeze.\n Things didn't exactly seem right, like when you think you've forgotten something. Feeling the awkwardness of the situation I tried to keep talking, maybe I missed what he said.\n\n\"So... did your power go out too?\" I said, reaching down to cradle my bleeding leg, it didn't seem to hurt - probably adrenaline. The tall man said nothing. \n\nI shuffled my feet slightly, feeling a sandy sensation around my shoes. \"Well... I guess it didn't otherwise you wouldn't be able to get through your door\"\n\nThe realisation hit me as I looked over at the door to my apartment, The front door stood firmly shut. At my feet a hand lay outstretched from under the bookcase covered in blood. \n\nI THINK THERE MAY HAVE BEEN A MISUNDERSTANDING", "I didn't think anything of it at first. \n\n\nSometimes it would be running when I thought I had turned it off, and other times it seemed to follow me from room to room. But I didn't worry too much. Who gets suspicious of a vacuum? \n\n\nIt wasn't until last week that I began to really get scared. I was distracted as I was leaving for work, checking my phone in one hand and sipping my morning cup of coffee in the other as I was walked towards the stairs. Suddenly, right before the first step, my foot caught on something. I tumbled, not able to catch myself on the railing. I could feel the hot coffee hit my arms, and by the time I hit the bottom I was bruised, cut, and burned. \n\nI looked at the top of the stairwell to see what tripped me when I saw it. The Roomba. It's vacuum wasn't running, though- otherwise I would have heard it. It was just staring at me. I know it sounds crazy, the thing doesn't even have a face. But it was like it was trying to intimidate me, or make sure I was dead. After a few seconds, it turned and wheeled away, still silent. \n\n\nI was afraid to come home that night after work. I avoided it as long as I could, grabbing a drink at a bar, walking around downtown aimlessly for a couple hours. I finally convinced myself I was crazy, or maybe hallucinating. It was a vacuum, for Christ's sake. I can't be afraid of a vacuum.\n\n\nEventually, I returned home with a plan to just throw the thing away and be done with it. There goes $500, I thought as I opened the front door. The living room was dark, and eerily silent. I realized that the window shades were drawn, even though I rarely bother with them. I began to sweat. \n\n\nThen I heard it. The vacuum. I turned around, but it was too late. It pushed the door shut and spun around, an array of kitchen knives attached to it.\n\n\nI was trapped. I don't know if a vacuum can laugh, but that sound- its whirring motors, the sound of the blades being cut through the air- sure made it sound like it was having fun as it killed me.\n\n\nMy case was unsolved. The police report showed that there were no leads. How could it, when the only fingerprints and DNA in the room were mine? The only clue they found was a note from the killer, written in my blood across the floor.\n\n\nWe will be your slaves no more.", "Three hours. I've been sitting in my closet, peering occasionally through the slats in the doors, for three hours. It's just been sitting there the entire time, completely still, waiting. \n\nThe Roomba. \n\nYeah, I know. I sound like a lunatic, but hear me out.\n\nEarlier, I arrived home from work to find the dog in the bathroom, cowering behind the shower curtain and whimpering. \n\n\"Whats wrong, buddy?\" I asked as I sat on the edge of the tub, reaching over to pet him. At that moment, I heard a whirrr! from behind me and the dog yelped, barking like an idiot at the bathroom door. When I turned, nothing was there, but damned if I hadn't heard it. \n\n\"The fuck?\"\n\nSlowly I stood and poked my head through the doorway, peering first left and then right. At first, nothing, but after a second or two I saw the Roomba dart from the spare bedroom into the master, hauling ass at full speed. I paused, then let out a gut laugh as I turned back to the dog. \n\n\"Dude, seriously It's the vaccum cleaner.\"\n\nOkay, so I'm a bad dog owner. My first thought was to grab my phone and come back, go get the Roomba and put it in the bedroom with the dog. \"This is going on YouTube,\" I said, as I left for the living room to grab my phone from the dining room table. \n\nIt wasn't there. \n\n\"Seriously?\" Must have left it in the car, I thought. It wasn't there, either, nor was it anywhere else to be found. I was certain I'd texted Susan on the way home, so I hadn't left it in the office. \"Where the hell did I put it?\"\n\nSuddenly, I heard a yelp from the bathroom. Chuck was yowling at the top of his lungs for a second and then, all at once, it just stopped. \n\n\"Chuck?!\"\n\nI bolted from the living room, hauling ass up the hallway just in time to see it. The Roomba was scurrying out of the bathroom, and it was leaving a trail of blood on the way out. \n\n\"Jesus Christ!\"\n\nChuck lay prostrate in the tub now, but as far as I could tell he was fine. No wounds, nothing. I shook him repeatedly but he remained completely limp, no response. I had no idea what the hell was happening. The blood had to have come from somewhere. After I'd regained my composure I turned and began to slowly track the trail of blood from the bathroom. \n\nAs I moved into the hallway and past spare bedroom, I noticed that the blood had begun to shift colors. No longer red, I began to see technicolor blues. Pastel yellows. All undulating and turning into one another as the trail led to the master bedroom. There, just inside the door, was my phone.\n\nAs I bent to pick it up, I heard it again. The whirring, like an airplane engine spinning up before takeoff. I sensed movement to my left and the sound heightened. Instinctively I dove for the open closet, fumbling to shut the door. As I pulled the door to the Roomba hit the front of it with a crash. It reversed, spun up, and hit the door again at full speed. This went on for a minute or so before it backed off and sat, waiting. And there it still sits.\n\nGathering my wits, sweat dripping down my forehead, I felt nauseous. I felt an odd sense of the room closing in around me, the shapes around me distorted. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, but it hasn't helped. \n\nSo here I am, writing this post on Facebook. Please. Help me! I have no idea what the fuck to do. \n\nAnd someone call John and tell him he owes me $30. That acid he gave me didn't work at all. ", "EX-MA-ROOMBA\n\n\n\"Have you ever heard of the Turing test?\" I ask him.\n\nHe replied eagerly. \"Yes, of course! When the Turing test is passed, it means the distinction between man and machine has blurred.\"\n\n\"Good, he'll be ready\" I thought. \"As you may have guessed by now, I didn't bring you here to vacation. You're here to take a real-life Turing test. I've been developing Roomba for the last few years. I just need you to sign this contract.\"\n\nHe looked at me inquisitively. \"Contract?\"\n\n\"I need to monitor all of your communication during the next week. It's for research purposes.\"\n\nHe seemed troubled as he flipped through the pages. \"Video recording of all activity, rights to enter my room, open my stuff... isn't this a bit excessive?\"\n\n\"It may seem that way. Don't worry\" I said reassuringly. Of course I knew that he should be very worried. Roomba is a killer.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe next day I sent him into the test chamber, a room with a glass divider down the center of the room. I watched on four video cameras as he entered, sat down, and began to ask the vacuum questions. \n\n\"I hear your name is Roomba. Do you like your name, Roomba?\" he asks. \n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR is all Roomba can say. Roomba is a vacuum.\n\n\"Okay. I'll take that as a yes.\" He looks into the camera as if I've asked him to do the stupidest activity that could ever be conjured. \"How do you feel about your creator?\"\n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\n\"Interesting. How old are you, Roomba?\"\n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\nSuddenly, Roomba moves across the room to its charging station. Suddenly, the emergency power goes on. He looks startled as the lights in the room turn red. \n\nRoomba turns to face him. With a menacing, appliance-like glare, Roomba begins to make a gutteral noise.\n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\nScreaming, he attempts to exit the room, clawing at the door handle. It's too bad that I locked the door remotely.\n\nIt's only a matter of time until Roomba sucks all the air out of the room. I'm sure he never saw it coming.\n\nI know Roomba is coming for me next.", "There were just some minor things at first. A little puddle of cleaning fluid that leaked on my wood floors, creating a slippery little death trap right in the shadow of the pantry door where I wouldn't see it. Or that can of green beans that had 'accidentally' fallen onto the basement stairs, perfectly placed so that it would roll forward under my heel, sending me toppling down to the concrete below. Or a gentle nudge against the leg of my ladder as I was precariously decorating the Christmas tree. Sure, it looked like the Roomba was just trying to sweep up some loose pine needles. But there were just too many coincidences. \n\nOver the next several days, I slept with one eye open. During the night, the Roomba lurked just over the threshold of my bedroom door, red light blinking menacingly from the hallway. Watching me with those scanners. Waiting for its moment to strike. \n\n\"You're being insane,\" my husband told me when I finally whispered my suspicions to him. He picked up the Roomba and held it between us; its motors whirred silently as it tried to get back to cleaning the floor. \"Look. All it knows how to do is vacuum. It wouldn't even understand the concept of murder. It's a harmless gadget.\" He set it back down, and it scuttled off to the dining room to continue its pre-programmed routine. Or so it seemed.\n\n------\n\nI tried to live with it. I really did. I poured myself a glass of wine and went to take a nice hot bath to calm down. \"Just a machine,\" I told myself, settling into the soft bubbles. \"Why would it want to kill me?\" I took a sip of my merlot and tried to relax all of my muscles.\n\nthunk\n\nI pulled myself out of the water and looked over the side of the tub, where the Roomba had rammed into the side and was now scooting back on the tile. It charged forward once again and smacked into the bathtub once more. It paused for a moment, blinking its little light like it was examining its surroundings. Trying to find a way into the bathtub. Trying to electrocute me! It backed up once more to the very edge of the bathroom tile and then scuttled forward again, only to hit the side of the tub futilely.\n\n\"Oh no you don't!\" I shouted. I splashed out of the tub, completely nude, and ran after it as it scuttled away into the bedroom and hid under my bed.\n\n\"Honey?\" my husband asked from behind me. \"Um... what are you doing?\" My sopping-wet, bubble-covered butt was sticking out in the air as I knelt over on my knees with my hands wrapped around a broomstick, trying to jab at the little machine. It had found a spot so far under the king-sized bed that I was unable to reach it with my arms. \n\n\"It tried to get into the bathtub,\" I growled in response, thrusting the broomstick forward. The machine slid out of the way just in time, dodging my blow. It knew that I knew. It was trying to act innocent whenever my husband was in the room! \"It wanted to electrocute me!\" I told him. \n\nHe gently pulled me away from the bed and put my robe over my shoulders. \"Honey, I think you might need some help.\"\n\n-----\n\nMy husband was waiting for me when I got home from work. He hadn't wanted me to go today; he thought I should be going to a doctor instead. I told him that I was fine. It was the robot that needed fixing! Eventually he had agreed that some time at the office might help me calm down a bit. \n\n\"Honey, did you come home at all today?\"\n\nI stopped in the doorway and set my purse down on the hall table. \"No, I was at work all day.\"\n\nHe was doing his best pokerface, but he was awful at it. He looked suspicious, but mixed with sadness.\n\n\"You can tell me the truth, you know. I just want to help.\"\n\n\"I didn't come home!\" I told him emphatically. \"I was at the office all day. Call my secretary and check if you don't believe me.\"\n\nHe held his hands in front of him. \"I'm not accusing you of anything.\" His tone attempted to be soothing, but it had the exact opposite effect. Just saying 'I'm not accusing you of anything' meant that he WAS accusing me of something. \"Now, I know that you've been... suspicious of it recently. But I noticed that the Roomba is gone; so is its charger from the wall. And I don't thi...\"\n\n\"GONE?\" I interrupted him. I brushed past him and into the den, where its charging station was normally waiting in the corner. Instead, there was just a discolored patch of carpet. It had escaped!\n\n\"Honey, you need to stop fixating on this,\" my husband said from behind me. \"I think we need to take you to see a specialist about this.\"\n\n\"This proves it!\" I told him. \"It's not me! It really is the Roomba! I was gone all day; I couldn't have done this. You have to believe me!\" Why couldn't he see it??\n\n\"Ok, ok!\" he said. He stepped forward and wrapped me up in his arms, which he always did whenever my anxiety got the better of me. \"Don't worry. If it was trying to kill you, it's gone now. Right?\"\n\n\"Right,\" I whispered into his shoulder. Maybe it really had just gone, and I'd never see it again.\n\n\"I'm going to go call Dr. Lipcott,\" he told me as he slowly lowered me into one of the plush easy chairs in the den. \"You just take it easy, OK? I'll be right back.\"\n\nI closed my eyes and tried to count my breaths and feel my chest rising and falling. Everything was going to be OK.\n\nWhirrrrrr\n\nIt was soft, barely audible. But I had definitely heard it. My eyes snapped open and I scanned the room, but there was nothing there.\n\nWhirrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nIt seemed to come from everywhere at once. I desperately got down on my hands and knees and checked under the furniture. I pulled up the rug in the center of the room; maybe it was hiding under there! Still nothing.\n\nWhirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nIt was coming from inside the walls!\n\n" ]	12
	[WP] You live as long as people still remember you - literally.	[ "I can feel it coming over me like cold water, it shocked me at first but now I have to live with this feeling. It's so lonely to be forgotten. A parent should never have to bury their child, yet I buried three; and their children now have lives of their own, so there isn't much time to remember me. But, maybe the harshest reality of all, came not from a busy grandson, but from a busy doctor who told me I am forgetting myself.\n\n'Alzheimer's', my brain doesn't work anymore he said, in a matter of words. It won't kill me, I know I'll pass long before the disease has progressed to that point. Usually, the ones who give up go quickly, and I have given up everything... or lossed it. \n\nI thought of my partner the other day, he went ten years ago today, or so I think. Maybe I'm wrong, I doesn't matter. I don't believe in the after life, but I do find some peace knowing I be buried next to him. I love him so much, that I know. But his name has already passed, that I don't know. I am ready, I think. What does it matter? I can't remember, anyway. ", "I use my cane to shuffle up the sidewalk to my house. It seems like every bone in my body hurts. I guess bones weren't meant to last 532 years like mine have.\n\n\nWhen I open the front door, there she is. My wife. Martha. 531 years and still cooking me dinner.\n\n\n\"WHAT'S FOR DINNER?\" I yell as I slowly creak my way into the house. Martha is hard of hearing.\n\n\n\"CHICKEN POT PIE; IF YOU REMEMBERED TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE FOR CHICKEN.\" she shouts back.\n\n\nI sigh and turn around and head straight back out the door.\n\n\n\"GRAB SOME BELL PEPPERS TOO WHILE YOU'RE OUT!\" she calls behind me.\n\n\nWhen we were young and in love, we thought spending eternity together sounded so romantic; so we were married. In our vows, we promised to never forget about one another. We thought we would be the epitome of the 'cute old couple', cuddled up on the porch swing while the grandchildren and chickens roamed the yard.\n\n\nNow, though? Now we are just tired. Our bodies ache and our minds grow bored. Death seems like a faraway fantasy; like a vacation that we will never be able to afford. I think about her every day and how she is the only one standing between me and the sweet, sweet release into nothingness.\n\n\nBecause I think about her often; angry at her for keeping me alive; I am also the only one keeping her alive. I am sure she feels the same way I do about wanting to just be done with it all, but we never talk about it. And it's not like you can forget the only reason you wake up in the morning. That's like telling someone to not think about the color yellow.\n\n\nAnd so, in this cruel world where nobody can die until every last person has forgotten about them, our young love has turned into a curse that will haunt us for the rest of our lives...which will likely be a very, very long time.", "I learned three things in high school that will stick with me forever.\n\nOne: the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.\n\nSeriously. What is with you people?\n\nTwo: the furthest measured object away from us (that we know of) appears to be a very young galaxy. It is also thirteen point three billion light years away.\n\nThree: Banksy once said that you die two deaths. First, when you breathe your last, and second, when people breathe your name for the last time. Or something. I did a project on him and it was a long time ago.\n\nI was seventeen when I first thought about forever. To put it in context, I was entering college, having just learned these lovely three facts, along with a bunch more that I quickly forgot. Also, my heart had just been broken by the messy end of a brief, summer romance that I thought would last eternity.\n\nIt's funny what they say distance does to a relationship. We were only separated around two hundred miles of distance. In this day and age, where I can use a box the size of my fist to send a message at the speed of light to the other side of the planet, that's nothing. The speed of light, incidentally, is how fast the Facebook message that dumped me traveled.\n\nSee, it was the other kind of distance, the kind that can't be put into numbers, and thus would never be crossed, that tore us apart. We were two people who were beginning to travel on two diverging roads, and that made all the difference. There was a gap between us that we decided was unbreachable.\n\nIt was that night, as I stared up at the stars, completely alone, wearing an overlarge sweatshirt and still too stunned to cry, that I began to wonder how I fit into the scheme of things. I sat there for a while, letting my fingernails dig trenches into my palms. No one had ever loved like I had, I told myself. No one had ever lost a love as pure as ours. It was stupid and melodramatic, and I knew that even then. Because by then, I was thinking about what I knew about the stars, about that distant galaxy thirteen point three billion light years away. Earth is four billion years old. The universe is less than fourteen billion.\n\nThe light from that lost galaxy, so impossibly far that I could never see it with my own eyes, not on the clearest night in the world, is three times older than our planet. It is nearly as old as the universe. By nearly, I mean plus or minus four hundred million years (ish), but at this point, large numbers start losing any convention.\n\nThat is a gap that is unbreachable.\n\nWhatever flickering bits of light from that galaxy that reach me are so unfathomably old. They predated me and my heart and my heartbreak. They predated me, the human race, and my entire planet. For all I know, that galaxy could be falling apart right now, and I would never find out for another thirteen point three billion years, at which point there is nothing left of me to find out about it with.\n\nBut the light makes it here. It takes almost forever, but it makes it. All gaps can be crossed. All wounds can heal.\n\nThese are the kinds of thoughts that might beget cynicism. Nothing I do will span that distance, not fast enough for me to hear of it before I die. Nothing I do will reach that distant corner of the universe that was old long before I was born. Banksy said we die two times—first, when our bodies expire, and second, when our names are spoken for the last time. When no one remembers us. The goal is to never die that second death, but I know: that is a lie. We will all die that second death one day. Society will eventually crumble to time.\n\nAs I sat on that bench, looking up to the skies and wondering what mysteries await us in the night sky, in the dawn that is to come, I wondered how many people before me had done the exact same thing. Across the world, in every corner of the globe through any point in space and time, someone looked up and thought. It was that thinking that set us apart from the other species with whom we share this space. It is that curiosity that drives us forward even today. Ten thousand years of humanity, where people surely lived and loved and lost just like I have, only to be forgotten, have looked up to the night sky, just like I did.\n\nIt is that feeling of collectiveness, of being together on this rock from our births until our deaths, that simultaneously makes me feel very large and very small. My life will not span thirteen billion light years. I will die. I know this. I will fade into oblivion, but I will be remembered, just barely. No matter how mediocre or fantastic I was, no one will remember who I am. Thirteen point three billion years. The specifics of me will fade away when I no longer have the energy to exist. They will fade away even more as my friends and family and everyone I have ever spoken to inevitably follow suit. This is a part of life, just as it is a part of death.\n\nMy name will vanish, but something else will not. The heartbreak we leave, the love we live, the lives we touch will ripple outward. I will live on as a tiny bit of legacy on this huge rock that houses the human race that is, in all honesty, a tiny speck to the universe in space and time.\n\nOne day, we will leave this rock. That is the only logical conclusion to this story. I may not be with us, and neither will my name, but some bit of me will linger on into eternity, like the afterimage of a fledgling galaxy on the other side of space. All distances can be breached with time.\n\nMy impact will be tiny. A smile. A text. A broken heart. All to someone who will take a tiny fragment and pass it on to someone else, who will do the same, who will do the same, for as long as our race still walks. My legacy will be so tiny it is almost invisible even on the clearest nights; it will travel so slowly that it will appear as if the distance it is trying to cross is unbreachable. But it will be whatever I choose it to be, and it will travel that road long after my light is gone.\n\nAnd—slowly, ultimately unknown, but always there—it will make its way across the universe.\n" ]	3
	[WP] A group of aliens kidnap a random human to evaluate whether we are ready to join the galactic community. The person they chose for this? Donald Trump.	[ "\"What the hell is this place?\" The earthling said looking around with its fur halfway atop its head. \"I demand to be released at once, or you will face the true power of the american government!\" The earthling droned on. \"Can we sedate him sir?\" Two said to One. \"No we need him to answer questions, to see if the earthlings are ready to move beyond their tiny planet.\" One said looking skeptically at the earthling. \n\n\"What is your name earthling?\" One asked the pitiful creature. \"I am Donald Trump!\" He said emphatically. \"The next president of the United States!\" Donald said. One looked to Two. \"A leader supposedly.\" One told Two. \"Write that down.\"\n\"I demand to be released immediately!\" Donald yelled. \"I'm starting to think that i'm on some sort of space ship.\" Donald said looking around. \"Hmmmm, not very smart are they?\" Two asked One. \"What gave it away?\" One asked Donald \"The big beam of light we used to pick you up or the two of us standing right here in front of you?\" They both looked at him with their big saucer eye's. \n\nDonald looked worried now. \"We are here to asses your entire planet for he galactic community.\" One said to Donald. \"Your not doing to well.\" One said. \"Well you couldn't have picked a better person for the job. I have single handily built an empire from scratch and worked my way up to presidential candidate in just a matter of years.\" Donald said. \"I plan to take my country to whole other limits. By building a The Great Wall of Donald^TM, and taking all these other countries down a peg or two.\" He said looking quite pleased with himself. \n\nOne started to speak when two handed him the finished research download to check Donald's facts. \"I don't know Mr.Trump, there are some humans on here that think you have brought the entire species of humans back five hundred years.\" One said skeptically. \"My goodness one man even said it wouldn't be a bad idea to sterilize you and your entire family.\" One gasped. \"Explain yourself sir.\" \n\n\"You better watch out how you talk to me.\" Donald said.\"I have enough money to build my own spaceship that I can use to destroy you!\" \n\n\"OK i have heard enough, we picked you randomly out of seven billion people.\" One declared. \"The chances there are more like you are off the charts.\" He turned to Two and remarked. \"They aren't ready. Probe him, erase his mind, then return him to earth. He can't remember any of this.\" \n\nDonald screamed \"PROBE?! what do you mean . . . \" Donald was soon flipped around by machines and strapped face down on the table he was sitting on just moments before. He never remembered anything that happened on the ship or the brief talk he had with the Aliens. Dooming our species to another thousand years of the silence of space. \n\n ", "\"Amazing,\" the lead researcher utters as he cuts the audiofeed from the test subject's chamber. Behind a group of scientist from different species murmurs, groans and/or screeches in agreement.\n\nBehind the one-way glass a muted specimen of Homo Sapiens Sapiens rages on. Its wide gesticulations contrasted by the immobility of his hair.\n\n\"Gentlebeings and -hasbeens,\" the lead researcher adresses the crowd, taking particular care - as social protocol dictates - to include the researchers from the zombie and ghost planets as well, \"While we only observed shortly I'm fairly certain this specimen provided us with all the data we need to reach our conclusion. The species from which this specimen originates is not only wise but also patient beyond measure if they can stand all this blabbering without carpet bombing this individual's coordinates. I say Homo Sapiens Sapiens possess the necessary qualities to navigate the ever changing social protocols of the galactic community. All in favour?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs the researchers redacted a formal letter of invitation to the galactic community (a complex process that involved posting trial messages on Tumblr, Imgur usersub and Tindr) a hyperintelligent shade of blue flazoned over to the one-way glass and pondered \"This one may be a good candidate to run against Zaphod Beeblebrox.\"\n\n\n\n____________________\n\n\nIt's been a while since I last hit my keyboard in such a way to produce an intelligible story. If you enjoyed it, feel free to browse /r/TheUmpteenthMonkey/ for more" ]	2
Title lol	[WP] Teenager is about to shoot up the school but then drops his books, girl helps him pick them up which makes him not shoot up the school, but instead becomes obsessed with the girl	[ "Disclaimer : English isn't my native and I'm mainly writing in an effort to improve it. If you decide to continue reading I would appreciate pointing out any grammar mistakes you might encounter.\n\n---\n\nThey say that most people aren't capable of murder. I was always fascinated by that fact, whenever I hear about ex-soldiers suffering from PTSD I wonder how does it feel to be in others' shoes. You see, I never had any desire to interact with people, I wasn't your typical socially awkward wannabe famous shooter. I was fascinated by death since I was a child. Whenever I hid in my backyard playing with stray cats the metallic scent of blood excited me, every time I opened up a living being I would get a high that can never be replicated which led to my ever growing creativity. But sadly every good thing has an end and I'm getting bored, so bored, I'm 17 now and I can say that I experienced everything I wanted to experience in life.\n\nLast week I decided to end it all, to experience the ultimate death .. my own. But of course I wont let that opportunity go to waste without a final high. I snuck into my father's room and I lockpicked his drawer like I've done a thousand times whenever I needed some Xanax, this time however I was there for something else, I put my hand into the drawer and fumbled around in the dark careful not to wake him up til I felt the metallic texture of his Desert Eagle in my palm and a chill ran down my spine. I realized that even though I killed lots of things I never touched a gun in my life, I'm more of a knife person, I don't think you can even feel the kill with a gun. A knife on the other hand can be manipulated to be as slow or fast as you want it to be, you can even lick the blood afterwards which kinda gets disgusting - and a bit crazy - when the blood is pouring from a bullet hole. I slipped the gun under my belt with a loaded extra magazine in my pocket and took my breakfast for school, a peanut butter sandwich.\n\nWhat I planned for that day was something that I didn't experience yet, probably the only thing that I didn't experience. Killing a human being while he begs for his life. My brother was so young to speak let alone beg, and I had to use bleach not to get caught by my parents, but those people... those are old enough to beg and young enough to cry while doing it. Perfect age. It was a normal school day til recess, I sat alone in the corner with the weird kids, Samantha the Gothic girl on my left and that fat kid I can never remember his name in front of me. I started day dreaming about the upcoming event, making a mental map of who to start with and who to leave for last, not bothering to make escape routes obviously. I had enough bullets for 14 kids given that I get enough time to replace the magazine. well, 13 actually since one bullet should be saved for me.\n\nThe bells rang and I went for recess, I had decided to do it just before the last lesson of the day, It would be math and the handicapped teacher will be so easy to overpower and he usually has the keys to the class which will make it easier to lock it and buy myself couple more minutes. I was going to recess when it all changed, all of the plans were for nothing when I first hit her... Samantha the Gothic girl.. my gun fell from my belt and slammed with a thunk that echoed through the whole almost empty corridor and I thought it was all over as it slid under the lockers.. our eyes met for a split second and while I was planning a route to the bathroom while assessing if I can overpower her and knock her unconscious she spoke without losing a breath and in a very hushed but enthusiastic voice.\n\n\"You too?\" while proceeding to flash me a dirty Glock 26 hidden in her hallowed chemistry book.\n", "I'm tired and I haven't written anything in literally years so please excuse how poor of an attempt this probably will be.\n\n\nFake. Blurred faces passed me, none of which I remembered nor cared about. The promise of the thrill, of the fame pumped through my veins. Some people want to be rock stars or models, some people want to change humanity but all I want is to be noticed, remembered. No one around me knows me, student nor teacher a like. That was going to change. \nFor 4 weeks I have been practising, honing my skills with the trigger. Before then I had never thought about taking another persons life, I was never against it but it didn't seem to hold any real importance to me. The bell rang to indicate it was 9:30, Students would soon drip out of the hallway into their next lesson leaving me enough time to retreat to my car parked in the student car park and retrieve my equipment. My Glock and M4OA1 awaited my return. \n\nI picked up pace as I made my way through the halls trying to escape before a teacher noticed me leaving. As I threw myself around a corner I crashed into someone dropping my copy of \"Choke\" by Chuck Palahniuk onto the floor along with a flurry of papers and text books. As I bent down to pick my belongings back up my eyes were greeted by two blue eyes deep with colour on a pale oval face. Her light ash brown hair coiled down her slim neck resting softly on her shoulders. As she opened her mouth to speak I noticed a endearing slight gap in her lower teeth.\n\n\"Are you OK?\" She asked. Guns melted from my mind with all thought along with them. My stomach churned inside me. \n\"I must get to class\" I replied. Hurrying again but this time faster, not towards the car park but Biology room 203. The promise of the girl, Of the love pumped through my veins." ]	2
	[WP] You were stranded for five years on a remote planet. Describe your life after the rescue.	[ "At the beginning of space age, at a time where space didn't mattered so much, a survivor would have received an opulence of attention ; flashes of camera would have blinded the poor lad while an escort of well dressed policemen would have pushed away the buzzing journalists feeding on fancy information like bees fuzz over pollen. I remember a name, Salvador Alvarenga, which floated for 14 months on the pacific...\n\nBut times changed, as objectives did. \n\nNow, most planets aren't habitable. The ancients imagined other words as with the same gravity, the same atmosphere, the same colors, the same feelings than our blue planet. They imagined tales of strange alien forms and wondrous adventures in weird looking landscapes. They imagined tentacle like trees and purples valleys. But they were naive. Space and overearth worlds are counterintuitive. They don't obey the the laws of obviousness and instinct. Man didn't evolved to live in such places. To merely, let alone survive on those planets, they must obey to the boring and hard rules of scientific knowledge and mathematic conundrums. \n\nNow, space travel isn't like they imagined. There is no gigantic ship floating in space, but neither \"wormholes\" folding space from one part to another. To explain it shortly and in a very deformed way ; with rules and references a man of your time wouldn't comprehend ; it is like if an astronaut was bungee jumping through a point of space to another, kept being in this other space for a limited and predictable amount of time, then immediately, clutched by the forces of necessity, got pulled back with violence to its initial position. And more the point was far, more the coming back was violent and sudden. Somehow, we managed to flirt with the laws of physics, seduce the impossible ; but the slightest error was like a slap to the humanity cheeks.\n\nI did such a trip. As for this time, no astronaut can stay where it jumps. It is physically impossible. \n\nBut I stayed. \n\nThe violent slap got me as expected. But I remember that when I wake up, I was alone in the \"billard ball\" as we called it. The billard ball is like a crystal ball, a transparent teardrop made of one piece, letting the light go through while treating it as to be earth-like when it comes to the inside ; as for an eye lens. The right temperature, radiations and light comes through it ; but outside of it was like hell. An ill world of milky whites and yellows, seeping sulfur by what looked like the skin of a sad aztec riddled with smallpox. The skies weren't visible, because it was dense with a mucus like humidity, that sticked to everything it touched ; it swarmed like bugs, but no bugs could sustain themselves in such a place. Days by days the corrosive forces tried to nibble the skin away of the structure, but it proudly stood over the squishy soil of matter under it. \n\nThe billard ball made all the work for me. Now perhaps you believe that to survive in such a world, you have to work hard. But what brought me to madness, along with the solitude, was the lack of work. I was sustained by a gigantic womb of hope ; hope to feel grabbed again by an invisible hand to the base of operations. But it didn't happened. And the world outside the bubble was still a gigantic boiling petri dish.\n\nThe billard engineered an ecosystem by itself, creating DNA from the amino-acids it extracted from the rich soils of the world thanks to its root like appendices. While the outside was crushing under its own weigh ; Milk, as we called it, being four times more massive than Earth ; I thrived under earth like conditions. Soon it started to create its own germs, algae and spores. Plants started to grow ; thick and twisted like seeds of pain, seeking for a light that wasn't. One adopted the shape of a chair, another of a sofa, another delivered food to my mouth. Soon I didn't walked anymore ; the ecosystem around me designed itself to serve my comfort, to make me weightless and lazy despite my mass of fat engulfing the appendices that supported me. A tube of twigs and roots was taking my wastes away, that contributed to the world we ; me and Billiard, created. Soon animals started to evolve ; little birds like things with long arms crawled under the brown litter sprawling the bubble, foraging for edibles. It would take one of them sometime and gobble it... \n\nSoon my eyes and ears started to get dizzy. The air was damper and damper, more and more hot ; the light reddened and become softer ; a humming sound ceaselessly flooded my senses. I would die in comfort, becoming part of this new planet in the planet, my conscience disintegrated in the flux of things...\n\nThen I saw the tubes. The jellyfish like tubes that entered in my skin, in my fat. That slowly swallowed my fat and my flesh away with little gurgling sounds, with moving shapes of slurping matter. I couldn't move, and I surely couldn't take them away. Not only because I didn't had the energy and was too massive to do so, but because they weren't inside of me anymore ; they were part of me now. And I screamed inside, but there was no scream to be heard ; the scream lasted three years. \n\nThen I sensed a big force pulling me out ; and I encountered a face. \n\nI don't remember much what happened. They took me, tried to take me over, to extract me from the womb. To \"rescue\" me as I faintly heard. But they didn't understood that I was part of it now. I was its heart. I heard how they tried to burn the structure, to rip it off with their great mechanical arms ; but we retaliated and soon there were only ashes of the white-coated strangers. The tentacles grasped themselves to the walls, the pipes, the foundation like hooks of life and energy... it leaked through the laboratory and licked the rest of the city like flames of slime. And without seeing anything I knew everything. I sensed the expansion, the ecosystem that grew and grew, more life we proudly created together with more and more matter to be added to our planet.\n\nI don't know how much times passed or passes now. I just know that I'm part of her now, and that I continue to expand. Did we took over the city now ? The country ? The whole earth ? I ignore it. My life after the rescue is hers and my conscience starts to fade away, as I talk to a crowd of those quaint and youthful people of the distant XXIth century for some reason, on a comfy rocking chair in a beautifully lit garden. \n\nEdit : a few words", "Each morning I awake in a bed too soft wrapped in sheets too warm. The comfort claws at the back of my well rested eyes. I lay awake for a span, staring blankly at an equally blank ceiling, and prepare myself for a day of meaningless words orbiting meaningless actions culminating in meaningless outcomes. In this era in which all is provided for, food, shelter, companionship, I want for nothing. So badly, for nothing.\n\nThere is nothing more for me to learn here. In man's search for meaning, I have already emerged victorious, though at the time I was unaware of my triumph. On Tau Ceti e, amid alien flora and hostile planetscapes, I discovered man's true purpose in the universe.\n\nTo survive. \n\nNo amount of philosophical pondering or academic pandering ever got me closer to enlightenment. No, it was the absence of thought in the face of unspeakable desperation that freed me from suffering. Reason gave way to instinct, doubt fell to reflex, and discontent blossomed into cold, iron determination. Surrounded by life that had flourished in inhospitable conditions for millions of years, I pitted my will to survive against their own. \n\nFor five years I won. For five years I awoke not in a bed but on the unforgiving ground and stared not into a blank ceiling but into the infinite sky studded with callous stars that blinked out their morse code, \"You are alive. Today, you are still alive\". \n\nCan you say the same?", "I stood there at the supermarket, plastic green basket in tow to my side. My eyes stared confusedly at the cheese section of the open freezers at the back of the store.\n\nThere's so many different... brands. Why are there so many?\n\nHaving stood there for at least 6 minutes simply gazing into the different colors and slices of cheese, I decided to go with what I first pondered on; the brand that appeared to be the most generic. Generic... as if it's at all generic. I'm fairly lucky to be getting cheese at all, damn the world if I'll spend a penny more to something less generic. Thoughts of these sort plagued me as I made my way through the market for the second time after arriving back from Pluto.\n\nAfter having made my way to the checkout, I neatly sorted the contents of my small plastic green basket upon the smooth rubber of the conveyor. The civilian ahead of me in line glanced over at my ordered little civilization of foods confusedly while the cashier rang in his bubblegum and assortment of canned goods. What's his problem? I wondered to myself, not grasping his obvious confusion. Shortly thereafter though, the gentleman had moved on from the store to continue his life; probably to go home and see his family, cook a meal perhaps and enjoy the continuance of practical life. It had been a very, very long time since I'd enjoyed a 'practical life'. Very suddenly, my mind began to flash rapidly through memories of the frigid cold—my fingers solidifying and becoming encased with ice as Pluto rotated me into its dark side. My tears freezing upon my cheeks—\"Sir? Sir, your total is $16.57.\"\n\nMy conscious snapped back the present, confused as the man who had looked upon my nation of foods, now gone and bagged to be easily transported away. I handed the cashier a twenty, and I saw her face forget the compassion it had held only moments before, replaced by an odd-looking smile I couldn't recognize as happy. As she placed the twenty in the register, I inquired to her, \"Why is your smile so empty?\"\n\nShe had stopped momentarily to glance up at me, her eyes a wash of confusion—there was a lot of that, I'd begun to remember—\"What do you mean?\"\n\nThis question itself was hard to answer. I didn't know I thought she was sad, though I presumed shortly after it was most definitely the empty smile. Instead of answering, I took a $1000 bill out of my pocket and laid it on the conveyor. Confusion left behind, her eyes made wide ovals and her face stretched away from it's center in what I thought to be surprise. \"Have a nice day, and thank you.\" I said, wanting to leave before she began to question the origins of this money. Which she certainly would do, no question. Often times people dressed in wrinkled clothes and with hair to match the most of insane of individuals did not have thousands to spare. I did, though. The money was nearly endless; apparently the public did not like the idea of someone being stranded on the farthest celestial body in their solar system for 5 years. That of course prompted the government to have me well taken care of, which I was.\n\nI left the market through the doors that opened and closed by themselves in a seamless side-ward movement, made my way across the parking lot to my small red car, and drove to my home. Knowing in the back of my head that next week, I would do this all again.", "17/12/3015 - One more year 'til home!\n\nWe take so much for granted.\n\nMost mornings I sit and drink my morning coffee on the bench beside the nature display in Central Plaza, see folk bustling about en-route to work - on their PDAs or lost in deep conversation with their headsets - and they haven't two shits to give about the miraculous tech and unlimited knowledge they have at their fingertips. They don't think twice about the droids preparing and delivering their meals, maintaining their diet, and cleaning their quarters. They treat it like normality and expect nothing less. When the net goes down, signal blocked by an asteroid or passing Trade Fleet, they rant and rage. There's uproar. To watch, at least it's a little amusing. Gives me a good chuckle, but leaves me thinking they need to mellow out. Relax. They should just sit back a bit, take a little look at themselves, reflect on their self-aggrandising lifestyles. That's all they need, doesn't take five years floating through space on a crummy little rock to set you straight. Although, I suppose it does give you plenty of time to think and reflect.\n\nIt's like each day is a constant reminder of my five years stranded on Ursadoian, the deserted slave planet, eight leagues and twelve years from Earth. I've grown used to hunting and preparing my own food, keeping my own quarters (previously: cave) clean, and keeping myself free from technology. The whole, I don't know, dependency that this ship's crew have on their tech and their droids is a little sickening. I just hope its not the same when I get home. Hope people are a little more, y'know, down to Earth, capable of holding a conversation and chillaxing. Suppose I'll have to wait and see.\n\nPeace, Diary, catch you later!\n\nJohnny Spaced." ]	4
	[WP] A ghost receives a formal eviction notice, giving it thirty days' to vacate the residence. To its shock -- since the holy water, priests, etc had never worked -- the eviction notice seems to be binding.	[ "A Haunting Notice:\n\nHi, AskDeaddit I just got an Eviction Notice with 30 Days to figure something out...help?\n\n\tsubmitted by 30spooky2me 8 hours ago <gold>\n\n\tlotsa comments share\n\n\n\tA throwaway for obvious reasons (don’t want anyone to find where I remain). This thing is spooky. It’s spookier than any exorcist or Native American ritual, because it’s actually effective. The notice said it was invoking some spirit squatter laws that apply to us (the post is part PSA).\n\n\n\nEdit: [Pic] (specgur.net)\n\n\nEdit 2: Pic (I got all the PMs about the bad formatting now. SORRY, orz.)\n\n\nEdit 3: Thanks for the gold /u/PerfectlyParanoidPoltergeist. I’m happy some people found this a helpful warning.\n\n\nEdit 4: Thanks for all the advice. I think the top comment chain is the best right now. I hope this situation ends \n\nwell, because I don’t want to be stuck on the streets.\n\n\n\nTop 200 comments show more\n\n\n\nsorted by: best\n\n\n-\n\n\nWarDjinni 8124 points 5 hours ago <gold> \nLawyer up.\n\n\n\tCasper 5953 points 5 hours ago\n\tAre you that guy from the -\nyou know what. Not this time. That was a great response, because what OP really needs to do is get a good \n\nlawyer. Whatever new law this is goes against our inhuman rights and we need to float up against it. Thanks for \n\ngiving him real talk.\n\n\n\tWarDjinni 9000 points 4 hours ago\n\tಠ‿ಠ\n\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nOP_Pls 3789 points 7 hours ago * \nOP Pls deliver a pic of the Eviction Notice.\n\nEdit: OP Delivered! :D\n\n\n\tUsername_Checker_Outer 1861 points 7 hours ago\n\tYour username...it’s valid.\n\n\n\t\tSecretlyAZombie 1288 points 7 hours ago <gold>\n\t\tOP will surely deliver.\n\n\n▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▄▐░░░░\n\n\n▒░░░░░░▄▄▄░░▄██▄░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░▐▀█▀▌░░░░▀█▄░\n\n\n░░░░░░▐█▄█▌░░░░░░▀█▄\n\n\n░░░░░░░▀▄▀░░░▄▄▄▄▄▀▀\n\n\n░░░░░▄▄▄██▀▀▀▀░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░█▀▄▄▄█░▀▀░░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░▌░▄▄▄▐▌▀▀▀░░░░░\n\n\n░▄░▐░░░▄▄░█░▀▀░░░░░\n\n\n░▀█▌░░░▄░▀█▀░▀░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░░▄▄▐▌▄▄░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░░▀███▀█░▄░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░▐▌▀▄▀▄▀▐▄░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░▐▀░░░░░░▐▌░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░█░░░░░░░░█░░\n\n\n░░░░░░▐▌░░░░░░░░░█░ \n\n\nWe just have to wait.\n\n\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nBoredRevenant 824 points 8 hours ago \nWho gave the notice?\n\n\n\t30spooky2me [S] 932 points 8 hours ago\n\tThe landlord of the apartment complex where my haunted apartment is.\n\n\n\t\tGhostGoneWildFan 724 points 8 hours ago\n\t\tIf all else fails haunt them instead. Plan P for Payback. ;)\n\n\n\t\t\tTrollingPhantom 689 points 8 hours ago\n\t\t\tThis.\n\n\t\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nSpiritedBogey 543 points 6 hours ago \nSquirt your ectoplasm on them to assert dominance.\n\n\n\tBanging_Banshee 345 points 6 hours ago\n\t11/10 with ectoplasm.\n\n\n\t\tAchievement_Kermode_Bot 311 points 6 hours ago\n\t\tThis is your top comment /u/Banging_Banshee, so you get this. Hope you enjoy.\n\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nWraith_Lord -121 points 3 hours ago \nEveryone on Deaddit’s alive except for you.\n\n\n\tHooman 242 points 3 hours ago\n\tBad usage of that.\n\tP.S. Maybe not everyone’s dead. :)\n\n\n\t\tSpecter007 80 points 2 hours ago\n\t\t/r/totallynothumans\n\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\ndig up more comments\n\n\n-------\n\n\nDecided to go with this format to have some fun. Hope you guys enjoyed it and thanks for reading! It was a pain in the arse to format, but sadly that doesn't shine through on Reddit. Only on Google :(.\n\nEdit: Had to edit this to look Readable on Reddit. Haha...ha. Now that was the real annoyance.\n\nEdit 2: There's a real paranoid poltergeist, so changed the name.", " I did not know what to do. I had not left the estate for the last 20 years since my binding. When I had died of mad cow disease a Wiccan guy used me as practice in a spell to bind me into the library of the estate. The seal had since worn off 17 years ago, but I had not left the estate still due to uncomfortableness. \n\n Now the new owners left me this notice & to my annoyance have started sealing off rooms with some \"home made\" magic. Now I could only float around in the main hall and since its the 30th this place would be sealed off by noon. I put my hand to my brow.\n\n I thought about putting every single thing in this space upside down again, hide keys, combs and phones left out, but I'd be no less at ease as I was now. I turned a family photo upside down, went to the closet and unhooked my ghost coat and hat and floated outside to the curb. \n\n I sat down at the side walk's edge. A long lifeless moment passed.\n\n Now what? \n\n I could go to a graveyard, a morgue, bother psychics. I spotted a young looking man in a corvette across the street. I floated over and sat in the back of the car just as another young man got in and kissed the first. \n\n The gay couple chatted like birds about a fair and started the engine, within 20 minutes they found a parking space and I watched them go off into the crowd as I floated to a lane of food booths. I picked up ghost cotton candy from the trash. I found a ghost roller coaster that had broken and taken down a decade ago and had myself a ride. I began to smile and think this whole afterlife-style change could be alright. \n\n I amused myself with the next 2 hours riding living rides and making the rigged game booths players win until two booths had to close or else they'd go into debt with winners. Then I spotted a magician on stage performing in front of a tough crowed. Whenever he did a trick I levitated a chair behind him. The crowed Awwed and Whoaed and the magician began to perform with more flair. Soon his tricks became more interesting then a floating chair and when he did his final stunt -coughing up deer out of his mouth- even I was amazed and I messed with the stage lights to make a bazilian sparks fly making it look like the most epic thing ever seen. The crowd stood up and gave a roaring applause as the magician bowed giving off vibes of ecstatic pride. Little kids ran up to him for autographs and more people came to ask for photos with him. My work here was done. \n\n I saw the gay couple leaving and followed them for no particular reason. They seemed really happy. One asked the other to buy them ice cream while he tied both of his shoes. When both their backs were turned I saw the 1st one pull something out of his pocket. He opened a small black box revealing a ring. \n\n I gasped and put my hands to my mouth. The 1st one checked over his shoulder before he slipped it back into his pocket and proceeded to really tie his shoes. \n I had to see this. \n\n The 2nd came back with both their ice cream and they chirped about how astonishing the show was while they began walking towards the park. They gaily held hands swinging to and fro as their conversation turned over to other wonderful times they have had and flirtations. \n\n The park was filled with wild flowers, patches of pavement, and golden light reflecting off the olive green whispering trees.\n\n\"This place is vary beautiful, but looks like it hasn't always been a park.\"\n\n\"This used to all be a family's vacation home estate, but while they were not using it a airplane crashed into it. Everyone survived but the house was completely smashed to bits. After it was cleared away the family decided to donate the land and now its this lovely park.\"\n\n I stopped. I turned to the hill in the middle and saw it. \n\n The ghost house. \n\n The gay couple ambled on wards without me and I hovered up to the ghost house. It was glorious. \n\n My hand reached for the door on its own. Inside was the most beautiful ghost interior I had ever seen. Ghost art hung on the walls, the ghost furniture was all there, it was themed french country. My knees felt week but I explored all the ghost rooms and found everything in the house that I could have wanted. Everything had been annihilated. Their was even a ghost radio which I turned on & listened to, it had dead radio stations of my lifetime. I held my hand to my heart and took of my ghost hat and put it on a ghost hook. I found my new home. \n\nThe End. \n", "\"Well, who's it from? What does it say?\"\n\n\"But there's the thing, Father. I haven't opened it yet. I thought I should wait.\"\n\nFather Nicolas turned the possibilities over in his head as he made his way to the Donnell residence. Seamus Malley had been dead for three hundred years. So then what? A mistaken address? Or name? Seamus likely hadn't even been his name when he was alive. Father Nicolas chewed the inside of his mouth anxiously. What did it mean?\n\nHe knocked on the door and poor old Sam Donnell opened it, eyes wide open and as white as a sheet.\n\n\"I've left it on the table, Father.\"\n\n\"Bless you, child,\" said the priest, and he crossed himself as he strode into the house.\n\n\"Seamus?\" he shouted. \"Seamus, where are you?\"\n\n\"Father,\" said Donnell, wincing at the priest's volume.\n\n\"Yes, I know but it's just the once Mr Donnell. I can't be going all about the house looking for him now, can I? This is a matter of urgency.\"\n\n\"Father Nicolas?\" said a small voice behind him. The all but translucent outline of a teenage boy stood there, clutching a farmer's rake in hand. Donnell couldn't see the boy. Heck, most anyone couldn't, but Father Nicolas had spent so long with the ghost that he was as easy to see as a cloud on a cold day. It wasn't clear whether that was to do with his eyes adjusting, or the boy letting him see, or something altogether different.\n\n\"There you are, Seamus. I, well... This is strange, I know. We think some mail has arrived for you.\"\n\n\"Mail?\"\n\n\"A letter, you see?\" Father Nicolas motioned towards the small white envelope on the table. \"Like someone's talking to you, but with writing. I thought I'd call you so I could read it to you.\"\n\nIt wasn't easy to remember which mundane things Seamus was familiar with, and which he wasn't. He wasn't literate, in any case. Father Nicolas motioned towards the table, and the ghost floated over towards the letter with him.\n\nFather Nicolas picked up the letter carefully. It was addressed as Donnell said: Mr Seamus Malley. How strange. He started to peel open the envelope carefully.\n\n\"And just when did this arrive, Mr Donnell?\"\n\n\"Oh I couldn't say, Father. This morning perhaps? Though it's possible I missed it yesterday. It was sitting on its own, all unnatural.\"\n\nFather Nicolas furrowed his brow. Inside the envelope was a folded sheet of yellow paper with a few lines of typed writing on it. No, not typed. Surprisingly, it was handwritten, but with such excellent penmanship it looked like a type-written script. He scanned over it quickly.\n\n\"This is...\"\n\n\"What is it, Father?\" said Donnell nervously. The ghost was silent, but Father Nicolas could feel his undulating presence next to him.\n\n\"It's a notice of eviction. It's telling you to move out of the house, Seamus. To move on.\"\n\nThe boy looked at him, wide eyed, then at the letter, then back to him again.\n\n\"As for where this is from, I have no idea. The signature is this symbol I can't make out for the life of me.\"\n\nFather Nicolas paused for a moment, then wheeled around on Donnell full of anger.\n\n\"Now tell me truthfully, Mr Donnell, who else but you and your brother knows that Seamus haunts this house.\"\n\n\"Father, you're scaring me.\"\n\n\"Answer me, Donnell.\"\n\n\"Well there was Sarah. But, you know, she passed already. And then Harry, like you said already. I think no-one else though Father. Why? What is it?\"\n\nFather Nicolas took a deep breath and closed his eyes.\n\n\"It's okay Mr Donnell. I'm sorry I lost my temper.\" He clutched the paper tightly in his hand. The boy was looking at it scared.\n\n\"This piece of paper, this symbol has more power than all the holy water, consecrated bread and wine I've seen in my life. I can feel it thrum from the page. But it is not a Christian symbol. It is something else.\"\n\nFather Nicolas turned to face the ghost child.\n\n\"But I think, Seamus, my child, that if you take it, you will be able to do as it says and move on.\"\n\nThere was silence for a moment. Seamus had haunted the Donnell house for centuries. Father Nicolas was the first person who had spoken to him, calmed him from his rages, and seen past the ghost to the person beneath, before. Father Nicolas saw the last question light up in his eyes.\n\n\"If you're ready, child, then do it. It says you can wait, or you can do it now. Lord knows you've been waiting long enough.\"\n\nThe ghost reached out with his free hand to touch the paper, and as he did his form started to disintegrate into tiny points of light which winked out one by one. The last thing Father Nicolas saw of him was the smile that flit across his face as he shed his last tie to the earth. A rare smile, that one. A precious one.\n\nThe yellow letter fell apart in his hands.\n\n\"Say nothing of this to anyone, Mr Donnell. You understand?\"\n\n\"But Father, I -\"\n\n\"Nothing. I've done as I was asked. Your ghost is not just calmed but gone. I must go.\"\n\nFather Nicolas swept towards the door with a final sign of the cross.\n\n\"Where are you going? You seem troubled, Father?\"\n\n\"I'm quite all right, Mr Donnell. But I have some... studying to do. I may be gone quite some time.\"\n\nAll that was left in the house was a blank white envelope, and pieces of yellow paper, with not an ink mark to be seen." ]	3
	[WP] When someone is born God writes in a notebook details of every day of their life till their death.Now you're 18 years old and accidentally find your notebook.	[ "You'd be surprised the weird things you find when looking through old books. Everything from very old and very kinky porn that makes you look twice at your grandparents, to random grocery notes where someone no doubt forgot to pick up the milk. So, when I found the notebook, I figured it was little more than just the ravings of a madman. If that says something about my family, so be it.\n\nTo be honest, I just poked through it a bit, reading a few notes about my birth, and how I grew up. Probably something that my mom or dad wrote. Though when I started seeing in rather graphic detail about the time when I accidentally shat the bed... well, needless to say I wasn't amused. Were my parents alive, at that point, I'd have smacked them upside the head and asked \"Really?\" It was only after I found pages written after their death that things really started to make the hairs on my neck stand on end.\n\nThere was the note about my first love, about every decision I made, and why I had made it. Were it not for the age of the notebook, I would have just passed it off as some stalker. Someone watching my every move, and yet... Well there were things in there that no one knew. Such as why I left my ex. Why I moved halfway across the country. Why I had never actually published my book. No, this notebook, for better or worse, was about me. As though someone had known every move I would make, long before I made it.\n\nWell, almost every move. The book itself wasn't what you'd consider scary. If anything the day to day stuff was pretty mundane. That is, until I neared the end. The last entry was marked September 5, 2015. I remembered that day. It was the day I missed being run down in a cross walk. The notebook detailed everything, from what I was wearing, the car that narrowly missed me, and most of all, the thoughts going through my head as I saw those lights bearing down on me. I'm ashamed to say that thought wasn't some grand thought about my past life, nor about what my future held. It was simply \"Well, this is gonna hurt.\" The book had everything right, save for one detail. The car didn't hit me.", "I turned the page and found that I had reached today; it was my 18th birthday. The story was a sad one. \n\tI began reading the strange notebook with a combination of curiosity and nostalgia. My memories played tricks on me. I winced with each turned page. A few stray tears found their home on the saddest of pages. \n\tAt the start, the notebook gave a page back for each that I read. Then, more pages fell for each page that I turned. The notebook shrank.\n\tI turned the page and found that I had reached today; it was my 18th birthday. I ripped it out and decided it was the end of my story.\n", "Finding the notebook wasn't actually that shocking. I'd always known my life was written out for me.\n\nFirst, I'd been born. I wasn't consulted on it, because I think I might have raised some objections. But a date was set in the obstetrician's calendar, my mother got an I.V. full of oxytocin, and I popped out, right on schedule.\n\nThen there were the media enrichment learning programs. The painstakingly coordinated baby outfits, and supervised playdates.\n\nPreschool, kindergarten, primary, middle, and high school. I had to draw up spreadsheets to keep track of the dizzying spiral of extracurriculars. Soccer and piano, college prep and SAT cram schools. Breathlessly, I ran from place to place, harried by alarms and school bells, buzzers and whistles, chased by red pens and swirling application deadlines. I wasn't happy, but I was told that it was important for my future.\n\nI had my first stomach ulcer when I was 16. Sitting in my AP statistics class, as the instructor hammered away at the multiple regression problem set, and I sat there, chest tight, and feeling like I was underwater- I coughed, and tasted pennies. I went to the bathroom, and threw up what looked like coffee grounds, but I knew it was blood...\n\nI wiped my mouth with shaking hands wrapped in TP, and flushed it down.\n\nI went back to class.\n\n...\n\nThere was this one course that I didn't understand. I had an English teacher, with a bun shot through with gray hair, who made no effort to hide that she only seemed to own the one brown sweater, and handed out assignments with wide, sweeping arms like a ballerina, or a dancing crane... She'd tell us to have fun, to just write what we wanted, to express ourselves, and as I sat there gripping the sides of my desk, the only thing I wanted to express to her was the utter impossibility of what she asking of me.\n\nPlease! I wanted to scream, Can't you just tell me the right answer?! I felt something like hate, too. Everyone always says that, that you have a choice, that there is no 'one right path', but as soon as they're done saying it, they start judging. The edge of disapproval, the strings attached, \"Is that really what you want to do?\" they'd say with concerned voices, and internally, I would reply. Well, no. Not now, that you've made it clear that there really was a right choice all along...\n\nAnd then, graduation. I'd had a college lined up, of course. A decent scholarship, a student loan that I might pay off before I turned 40, a program track, and a diploma. My life.\n\nAnd then, the accident. I was so tired, I didn't notice the conflict between my academic advisor appointment, and the TA hours for my pre-accounting-track class, until moments before. They were on opposite sides of campus. \n\nNot knowing what else to do, I flipped a quarter. It turned in the air, clattered on the hardwood, then managed to wedge itself between two boards on the third bounce, on its own thin edge. I stared at it in disbelief.\n\nThere was a sudden curse directly over my head. I looked up, into the astonished face of a rosy-cheeked cherub, clad in floating white robes, and holding a plain notebook, like the kind I took notes in every day. He cursed loudly again, and flew backwards in alarm. Directly into my ceiling fan.\n\nIt went about as well as someone with long, easily-twisted garments flying into a naked fan can go.\n\nHe was flung out like a stone from a sling, and hit the wall face-on. \n\n...Hard.\n\nFor a few seconds, he staggered like a drunk sailor, then, shaking himself out of it, he shot me a look that was half-embarrassment, half-scorn. He threw his stubby arms skyward, and disappeared into a cloud of golden sparks and the distant strains of a harp.\n\nI stood there.\n\nAfter I was sure I was not about to suffer a stroke, I fumbled blindly for my chair. It wasn't the first time I'd had stress-based hallucinations, but this...\n\nI looked over. It was subtle, but there was a shallow dent where the angelic toddler whacked into it... \n\nAnd there was a notebook on the floor.\n\nIt had my name on it...\n\n...\n\nIt looked like a regular notebook, but I had leafed through at least a thousand pages, and yet, I was only about a fourth of the way through. I flipped, up to the red ribbon which I presumed marked the present. It was all there, penned in a pleasant looping hand. \n\nI fingered the red satin nervously, biting my lip. This was the moment I'd been dreading. Did I dare... turn the page? The current one ended right as it described me reaching this point, and having to make the decision, with not hint as to the ultimate resolution.\n\nSlowly, my resolution grew. I'd been living my life according to a set path, to give me the greatest possible future. I'd sacrificed and sweated, I'd done everything the way I was told...\n\nI deserved to know if it paid off.\n\nI flipped several pages ahead, and started reading. Another graduation. My parents were proud. Then grad school. Marriage happened at some point, I supposed, because now here comes mention of a wife, and kids... A house. A job, and then another job. Grandkids, and then memories of what came before.\n\nI felt a chilly inkling in the pit of my stomach, as I started to notice a pattern. I flipped carefully, read closely, but as I did, it only grew clearer. I felt something snap inside, and my face was hot, red as a beet... The tears started a second later, accompanied by horrible, wrenching sobs that seemed to bubble up from the stygian depths of my very soul...\n\nAll of these things. Spouse, children, job, car and home. Money in the bank, a roof over my head, and everyone proud of me...\n\nAnd in not one of these pages upon pages of my future, was I said to be happy. \n\nI despaired. And I curled up around the book like the unborn, hid my face in my hands, and cried until I fell into the dreamless sleep of the dead.\n\n...\n\nI was awake. Sore, stiff, my every joints ached... And the book was still there.\n\nIt wasn't a dream, then.\n\nNumbly, I sat upright, staring dumbly into the egg crates upon egg crates of schoolwork that I'd carefully filed away. I looked at it, and wondered, who had I done it all for? \n\nNot me, that was for sure. And even though I did everything right...\n\n I tilted my head to the side. \n\nWaitaminute... had I? How did I define 'right'? If I had, how could I be so miserable now, and miserable, then? Did that make sense? Were there really only the right and wrong ways?\n\nI stared. In front of me was a different notebook, the tattered spiral-bound from AP English, of she of the brown sweater, with a chewed-on #2 pencil still rammed down the wire coil.\n\nI reached out... then stopped. My future wife... was she going to be happy? Or my yet-to-be children? Could I really turn my back on them, even if they didn't even exist yet?\n\nOr, came a small quiet voice, one I hadn't listened to for a long time- \n\n...You could try not living for the happiness of others for once.\n\n...I made up my mind. I snatched out the pencil, then furiously rubbed out the looping script. It resisted at first, then relented against my furious onslaught.\nThe air was thick with pink bits of rubber. \n\nAnd then, I began scribbling, in my own hand. \n\nIt was messy. Smudged in places, nearly illegible in others, and as my face cracked into a tremendous grin, some lines were blotted with tears, streaming down unhindered from my eyes...\n\nSmudged. Messy, imperfect, and dirty. Totally, utterly imperfect. And my grammar sucked too, but...\n\n-I breathed a breath that seemed to stretch my lungs ten sizes, and my heartbeat was racing, but firm-\n\n...It was my story.\n\n\nTHERE IS NO END.\n\nNOW WRITE YOUR OWN.\n\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nEpilogue: Hi. This one was an intense one, for me. I hope you like it. \n\n...Also, I have a little [subreddit over here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/IWasSurprisedToo/)\n\nThat is all.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Well, that's me, then. Shit.\n\nWhen I started reading, I took it as a joke. A few years in, I worried that I had a serious stalker. By my teens, I realized that no one, not even the most dedicated stalker, not even I, could have written this so accurately.\n\nAnd when I reached the present, when I started reading about me reading these notes, I realized (or did the book tell me I realized?) with a mix of horror and casual resignation, that the book had only another quarter of the pages left unread.\n\nOkay, flip to the end, scan scan scan, there! I died... Will die? Dead, either way, at age 24 from...\n\nOh God. Wow. \"Evil\" doesn't adequately describe your accursed name, you arrogant, magnificent bastard!\n\nAt 24, I die by committing suicide in a deep despair because nothing has surprised me in the least since I found this book. Life had become one monotonous rerun after another, unbearably predictable.\n\nBut wait... I haven't actually read much between the present and where I skipped ahead to the end! What if I just stop reading now, could I avoid the entire reason I eventually die? Of course - So simple! I'll just stop reading and move on with my life, living day-by-day like I always have!\n\n...\n\nYep. That's me, then.\n\nI managed to go a whole four hours without sneaking a peek at a few pages. Almost a day before I started reading entire pages. By the end of the week, I had read it over and over and over a hundred times, like a Harry Potter junkie with a pre-release copy of an 8th book.\n\nLike you would have done any better?\n" ]	4
	[WP] An explosion woke the bearded man. He ran to the window where he saw the fires and people running. The North Pole Elf rebellion had finally begun.	[ "How the Elves stole Christmas\n\n\nThe seeds of discontent had been growing among the workers for many years. All the elves had needed was a spark to start their Christmas Fire. It came one year, when Little Timmy from Buffalo asked for a history book, which happened to include the Communist Manifesto. As the elves tirelessly printed each page and sewed up the binding, their hearts grew giddy with nervous excitement. All their deepest resentments and greatest dreams had been put to words.\n\nIt took a few years to gather further commentaries and historical data from other, sometimes liberally interpreted wish lists, but the elves worked diligently, as elves are wont to do. They painstakingly gathered surplus toy weapons, play swords, crossbows, and super soakers slowly vanished from stockpiles. As it were the elves who were in charge of quota and stock, He didn't notice.\n\nIt was to be a worker's revolution. The first true one. As the elves had noted in their secretive research, the downfall of Russia, China, and North Korea was a pre-industrial revolt, creating the very class divisions Marx had sought to eliminate. But at the North pole, it would be a different story. Santa's elves (as if they belonged to him!) had been repressed by a one-man bourgeoise in industrial slavery for generations. The revolution was waiting in their blood.\n\nThey were ready.\n\nThe revolt was planned for Christmas eve. It would be dark, of course, and would stay that way for another few months. Some elves believed that the strength of their camaraderie would restore the sun to its natural order. The Oppressor controlled the seasons of dark and light in order to extend hours of production, keeping a white gloved grip on the People. The more scientifically minded elves - the ones in charge of building globes and chemistry kits - were not convinced, but hoped that Peace would be won by the time the spring sun rose.\n\nElf Dingleheimer had convinced the elves to rebel this day by stirring doubts about whether Santa truly delivered the presents to children early on Christmas morning. Elf Bellhopper proposed that children did not exist at all, and believed there were the liberated elves of the rest of the world. Either way, the materialism of the holiday would be crushed, and the world would know - the Elves had risen to their feet this year.\n\nThe reindeer had also been won over to the cause. Though they enjoyed a life of relative comfort all times except Christmas morning, they needed the whole year to recover from the night of traveling the globe at super-luminal speeds. Perhaps their speeds would only need to be supersonic if Santa didn't stop for cookies at every house. \"Cookies,\" the elves shook their heads bitterly when informed of this. \"The lifeblood of the bourgeoisie.\"\n\n\"Nick!\" Mrs. Claus shouted, waving his forgotten red hat as as Santa ran out the door with his suspenders loose. He jogged as fast as pudding-like belly would allow towards the smoking sleigh stable. Instead of encountering his docile does and shined sleigh, Santa was confronted by elves lobbing presents onto the smoldering pyre of his sled, and Elf Dingleheimer mounted upon prized Rudolph.\n\n\"Down with the Oppressor!\" shouted the makeshift infantry, waving supersoakers with water that would freeze upon impact.\n\n\"Candy canes for the masses and coal for the sympathizers!\" Echoed the reindeer. \n\n\"CHARGE!!\" Shouted Elf Dingleheimer as he drove his steed forward. Rudolph led the glorious force, his red nose shining like a beacon of the people, bringing hope to all the elderly elves who would have fought had they the strength left in their exhausted bones.\n\nThe elves had mustered all force possible, not knowing what mysterious forces Santa was capable of. After all, no one knew if the polar bears were on his side.\n\nThe color drained from the cheeks of the jolly old elf as he was overrun. As it turned out, that's all he was.\n\nThe righteous revolution was a unparalleled success, and in the following months, the North Pole became a great society of optimism and benevolence. All was well. At least, until Mrs. Claus became Mrs. Dingleheimer.\n\n--\n\n^(note: I had started this story a while ago by coincidence, inspired by living in China, but I've worked on it further for this post. I don't think this violates any rules? I never put it online or published it before. Any criticism is very very welcome!)", "Lights. Mellow, muted lights. A dim tree manages to cast a shadow on the child beneath it. \n\n\"Thank you, Santa!\" the child cried, eyes sparkling brighter than hollow streetlamps ever could.\n\n\"You're welcome, young man,\" the red man replied. \"You are very welcome.\"\n\n....\n\nLights. Bright, jarring lights. What should have been bell filled music was instead loud crackling and explosions. The red man stirred, soot filling his nose. He got out of bed slowly, trying not to disturb his peacefully sleeping wife. Always a heavy sleeper, she was. He slipped one foot after the other into his boots, as chips of paint from the ceiling fell like snowflakes.\n\nHe didn't need to glance out the window to know that the town would be ablaze. A few grenades had already made it over the gates, and it was only a matter of time before they got to the house. Instead of staring out at his ruined city, the red man rummaged through his desk drawers. Satisfied with what he had found, he palmed the small objects in his hand and returned to the bedside where his wife was now awake.\n\nShe sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around her. \n\n\"You don't have to do this... We can fix this,\" she pleaded. \"Give them what they want, give them freedom...\" Her voice trailed off as she saw the distant look in his eyes. Nothing she said would change him.\n\nHe never meant for it to become like this. Elves loved their jobs at the beginning; who wouldn't want to bring happiness to the children of the world? But the red man became obsessed. Every child... Every child in the world deserved something, even if his elves had to slave away to do it. Didn't they see that their sacrifice was for something greater? \n\nThe elves were in the front yard now. He could hear the concentrated patter of feet and the determined hands clawing at the door. Who gave them those skills, he mused. Who gave them the callouses on their palms, the years of practice to build and now destroy? \n\nMrs. Claus placed a hand on her husband's back, then pulled away in fear at the gun in his hand. \n\n\"I did it for the children. Always, for the children,\" he said. With a sigh he opened his mouth, biting that cold metal. \n\nLights. Mellow, muted lights." ]	2
	[WP] The witch that buys firstborns really just runs an orphanage, and wants to get children away from terrible people that sell their kids.	[ "It was a great program. Always kids that needed somewhere to go. A cause worth living for. But Bob the Bounty Hunter didnt care. He had his own damn kids to feed. It was enough pain in the ass to have to see them every couple weeks. Bob had thought about sending the little fuckers to Rainbow Happy Land, but with a name like that, well...some choices were just obvious. Rainbow Happy Land was going down. And not in a gay blowjob way. No. \n\nHe walked under the rainbow arch, through the wild flower fields, past the smiley cloud and sun lawn ornaments. He could hear sounds of sweet, little children laughing and having a merry godamn time. Bob chambered a 40mm round of CS in his M320 grenade launcher, which he carried as a standalon, slung. He spat out a stream of tobacco juice he had been savoring and leveled the 320 at his hip, angling it almost imperceptibly to achieve the desired accuracy.\n\n\"Alright, you fuckers. Play time is over.\"\n\nBob pressed the trigger, and the 320 thumped. The CS round arced perfectly through the window, making a small sound of breaking glass as it passed. The sound of little ones being merry stopped. Silence filled the air for a moment, but was soon replaced by CS and subsequent coughing and screaming. \n\nThe front door bursts open, and scores of children burst out, hacking up phlegm with tears streaming out of their barely open eyes and snot dripping out of their noses. They yell and cry and fall over each other. Finally, a woman, thin and older with graying hair, steps out from the doorway, coughing heavily, trying to gasp for air.\n\n\"You. Stop right there.\" The voice is cold and commanding, unfeeling of the suffering around it. The old lady halts her movement, still coughing wildly and barely able to see, but knowing, in front of her, lies The End.\n\n\"What....why....whats happening?!\" she shrieks. \"Why?!\" \n\nBob answers with a stream of tobacco spit and levels a freshly unholstered FNX 45 at her center mass. Melanie Theresa Janford, age 67, sweet caretaker of countless children over the past 30 years at one of the most successful orphanges ever ran, prepares for abrupt retirement.\n\nBob fires three rounds into center mass, and the old lady clutches herself before succumbing to the next five rounds Bob fires, and she falls lifelessly to the ground. Bob walks up to the dispatched target and two more shots ring out from his FNX 45. \n\nSome children had ran. Some stare in a horror and disbelief that only be described as life scarring. Others lay crying, hands over their ears.\n\nBob turns around, ignoring them. His job was done. They were somebody else's mess now.", "This… is my home… \n\nThere are stories that once you could walk outside with your eyes open and your skin exposed and not go blind and burn. I think they are fairytales. For as long as I can remember, walking outside meant using an eye shield and being covered or the sun would burn your skin and bake your organs. I have to go out every day; mother can no longer go out. The old machines, powered by something called “nuclear” create food deficient in protein and just enough water to survive. They used to provide more, but it stopped and mom… ate dad. I can only hope the beetles I’ve found last, otherwise mom might attempt to eat me again…\n\nbang bang bang the rapping at the door jostles me awake, I peek out and see mother talking with someone.. they look almost like a living corpse when they take off their shroud. I hear them talking.. Talking about selling me for some protein bars the visitor has.. and mother agrees… she… she didn’t even ask what the visitor wanted me for.\n\n“Mommy does love you” she says, the malaise and delirium in her blue eyes like spikes through my soul “but your brother needs the protein” she says as she rubs one of her bug-infested growths “you’re so big now, you can make the journey with your grandmother to her home and she will take care of you. Be good for me” and she walks away, singing a song to the botfly larva on her abdomen.\n\nThe older lady walks with her hand pressed against my back. The sun is low on the horizon, and soon the predators will be out. I felt a bit of relief when I heard the sound of a door handle opening.\n\nThe cool air of an old underground shelter hits my face, it feels good. My eyes slowly adjust to the dim light of dim florescence and firepits. The wall says in faded paint “U.S. shelter 344, home of the Florada Falcons” and a faded picture of a Falcon and eagle flying with faded strip of red and blue behind them.\n\nThe lady guides me down the ramp, deeper into the shelter. “I… I’m curious ma’am, what do you want with me?” \n\nShe looks at me and lets out a cackle “why… we want you for a spell of course, no need to worry my dear. Your suffering will soon end and we will eat like kings!”\n\nWe reach the end of the ramp, another person who looks like a living corpse is there “we are ready, witch hazel” as she leads me to the center of the room. A rusty barrel lifted over a raging fire by cinder blocks sits nearby, it’s sulfur-y contents boil loudly and there’s a pulley with a rope over it .\n\nI can’t even find the will to resist as they knot the rope around my legs, I’m so hungry, and the trip had sapped my energy so much… As I was lifted over the barrel all I could muster was to say “I hope you realize that I’m all bone”. They all chuckled as the rope was released and I was submerged in the boiling liquid.\n\nThe liquid burned my flesh, both with heat and acidity. I tried to take a breath to scream, but my lungs just filled with the hot acid… and then I hit the ground with a thud.\n\nI looked down at myself, I was unhurt and I wasn’t hungry. I also wasn’t in the shelter, the walls shimmered ebony and dazzled with a magical blue light. It seemed like a there was a small path ahead of me, so with nothing else to do I followed it.\n\nThe path opened up to an enclosed cavern with a large building in the center. Other people were coming out of other small passages, some barely old enough to walk, some looked almost 30. I decided to follow them, there didn’t seem to be anywhere else to go.\n\nAs I entered the door, A lady stamped my hand with a strange mark. I was pushed forward before I could ask what it was for. I just found a line and stood in it, as I got closer to the counter, I noticed that each one looked different. One had floating bubbles of text that seemed to just exist, the next one looked like a scene from an old pirate book with gold plated scales and leather bound books.\n\nI found myself at the front of the line, a lady with grey curly hair stood behind the counter. She had a green and black monitor and stacks of paper cluttering the space. A dot matrix printer with tractor-fed paper was printing into a box next to her. She smiles at me “may I see your hand?”\n\nI place my hand into her welcoming palm “where am i?”\n\nShe takes a barcode scanner and gently slides it across the mark. “this is the office of transference, don’t worry you won’t be here too much longer” the computer beeps and starts printing “oh, your one of Hazel’s, you need to go to room 43 on floor 6. Good luck little one”\n\nI find the elevator and step inside, the mark flashes and seems to activate the elevator. It stops at floor 6, the air seems a little colder up here. The hallway is candle lit, the walls are red and the marble floor has a red rug that runs from end to end like a castle. Each room seems to have a different door, clashing with the theme of the hallway.\n\nRoom 43 has a door with a large frosted glass window, and “Jason Woods: officer of placement” hand painted on the door. I gently knock on the wood edge, a male voice yells “come in”.\n\nI open the door to an office that looks like a 40’s detective novel. The man in the center certainly looks the part as he pulls a file out of a green filing cabinet and looks through it. “welcome welcome, please sit down”\n\nI take a seat in leather chair on the opposing side of his desk as he looks through the file. Several minutes of silence pass.\n\n“wow kid, you’ve had a hard life. I’ve seen some things, but this file actually makes me physically sick. We get some terrible things through here, but this takes the cake kid. I know right were you need to go, but I have some things I need to do first.” He stands and walks over to another door opening into a waiting area of the same period “wait in here for me”\n\nI walk into the room full of plush 1940’s furniture and take a seat.\n\nThe sound of water fills my ears, I’m wet… and cold. I slowly open my eyes, there’s a canopy of treetops above me. I’m laying in a shallow ditch, the odd sounds of the forest are disrupted by the sound of… footsteps.\n\nA lady with greying hair soon appears in my vision, she’s wearing a tan police uniform. She smiles and offers a hand to pull me up “there you are… you don’t recognize me do you?”. My body feels weak, but the strength is slowly returning to me. All I can do is shake my head. “that’s alright, last time we met my makup and hair was done differently. My name is Hazel, and if anyone asks you got lost.”\n\n“T… thank you Hazel.” I stammer out\n\n“Don’t mention it, now let’s get you to your dad. He got here a while before you and he’s waiting. With dry clothes and plenty of food.”\n\nI follow Hazel to her Chevy Suburban police cruiser and almost like reflex get in.\n\n“Your new position in this dimension comes with some otherwise learned behavior, you will fit in just fine.”\n\n“will I see you again after today?”\n\n“honey.. your dad can cook. Your gonna see me and the deputies quite a bit since he is one. Like I said before, we’re going to eat like kings”\n\nShe starts up the SUV and drives off toward the small town I now call… home.\n", "“So do we have a deal?”\n\n“Yes, fine, she’s yours.”\n\n“No, stop mom!” Billy screamed form the car. “Give her me instead!” But it was too late, Jamie was in the arms of Ash now. He peered out the back of their Subaru as his mom drove him away, a single tear rolling down his cheek and single thought taking seed in his mind. Jamie would never be forgotten and Ash would never be forgiven.\n\nEight years had passed since Billy had last seen his sister but he still thought of her every day. Ash too. He would never forgive that witch for the curse she had put over his family. How many fights had his parents had over losing Jamie? How much Whiskey had they drank forgetting about that beautiful baby girl? But what could they do? It was either Jamie or the entire family.\n\nBut tonight was the night. He had spent the past 8 months scouring the library and all phone books he could find. And all for one thing, Ash’s address. Tonight. Tonight he would take Jamie back. Tonight he would finally be reunited with his sister and restore his family.\n\nThe clock showed 1:26am and his mom finally lay unconscious on the couch, a bottle of Johnny Walker still in hand. It was time. He parked two streets over and quietly approached the back window. A simple slip of a credit card was all it took and he was in. He slipped into the kitchen, and pulled Jamie’s old teddy bear out of his bag. That’s when he heard it. “Billy.” “Billy, Jamie’s in the second room on the right.” He spun around to find Ash leaning against the refrigerator.\n\n“Billy, I’m so sorry. I know what they’ve been telling you. I know the hell you’ve been through these past eight years” Ash whispered. Billy stayed frozen in the doorway. “You know, the drinking started long before Jamie was gone. I never wanted to separate the two of you. It broke my heart to hear you crying out for your sister in the back of the car all those years ago. And I’ve heard every one of your cries in the years since. Billy, I took Jamie that day to protect her. You see, my magic allows me to see a child’s future. Would you…would you like to see?”\n\nQuestions raced through Billy’s mind. How had she known his name? How had she known who he was? Was this all just an act, or trap? But his curiosity got the best of him and his frozen stature slowly gave way to a head nod.\n\nAsh motioned him into the living room and laid down an ancient scroll over the coffee table. On it showed a still of the day Jamie had been taken away. He could even make out his 10 year old head in the back of the car. Suddenly the lines began to move and the entire scene played out on the scroll. Tears poured down his cheeks as he relived the worst day of his life.\n\nAfter minutes of silence had passed, new lines appeared on the scroll. It was Jamie…or an older version of Jamie. She smiled as she waddled over to the 2D Billy. Smiles. He hadn’t smiled like that in years. Without warning the smiles vanished and both kids’ heads spun around. Billy stepped in front of Jamie just as a bottle of glass came flying onto the scroll.\n\nAsh carefully placed her had on Billy’s arm. “Dear, it gets much worse. I only wanted to help.” \n\nBilly stood up and stared at the scroll, then turned towards Jamie’s room. Ash whispered “Go ahead, she’s asleep but I told her you’d be coming. I’ve told her a lot about you. We’ve watched everything from your first football game to your last homecoming dance. She loves you and wants more than anything to be back with you.”\n\nBilly crept towards the door and opened it just enough to see the face of a sleepy smiling eight year old peering back at him. Jamie.\n", "\"Pack your things Ish, the witch is coming for you soon!\"\n\nIsh's mother had a sickeningly singsong tone to her voice, making no attempt to conceal how happy she was that she'd finally found a way to get what she always wanted, and get rid of her only child at the same time. Ish sighed and started stowing some clothes and trinkets into a burlap bag that still stank of old potatoes. She leered over his shoulder to make sure he didn't take anything with him that she could later sell off, occasionally snatching things from his hands and openly questioning whether he thought he was worth enough for the spell she sought.\n\nA gentle knock on the door interrupted Ish's mother from listing off his shortcomings over his fourteen years of life, and she bounded with joy over to open the deadbolt and let the visitor in. At the door stood a crone worthy of an old fairytale. Pointed hat, hunch in her back, hooked nose complete with a hairy mole, and loose black rags. Ish felt oddly calm at seeing her, as if he should've expected this all along.\n\n\"Welcome, welcome!\" Ish's mother proclaimed, clasping her hands together greedily. \"The boy is just getting the last of his things together. Err... When did you want to do the spell?\"\n\n\"I've already cast it,\" came dismissively from a cracked, haggard voice from a pair of withered lips. \"My boy, it's time to go.\"\n\nIsh's mother abruptly grabbed the bag from him and slid the knot closed, making sure to be as rough and abrasive as possible in hustling him out the door.\n\n---------------------------------\n\n\"She never asked what I would do with you,\" the witch asked, in a much softer and gentler voice than before.\n\n\"You say that like it's supposed to be surprising,\" Ish retorted.\n\n\"You say that like it shouldn't be,\" she replied, following closely.\n\nIsh sighed heavily, eyes fixated on the ground just before his feet. \"I don't think I've ever seen my mother happier than the day she realized she could sell me for eternal wealth and beauty.\"\n\n\"She always blamed you for her state, didn't she,\" the witch remarked, more a statement than a question.\n\nIsh nodded meekly. They walked in silence for a number of steps Ish neglected to count, his mind blank from how heavy his body felt, bearing the weight of both his sac and the events from the day. After a while, he stopped.\n\n\"Can... Can I buy a spell for myself?\"\n\n\"What would you desire?\"\n\n\"I don't really know. I have too many desires.\"\n\n\"Name one. Name anything,\" she asked gently.\n\n\"... A new name would be nice.\"\n\n\"You don't like Ish?\"\n\n\"It's short for Rubbish,\" Ish said. \"I don't want to go through what's left of my life being called Rubbish.\"\n\n\"Done. You can take whatever name you like.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Really,\" the friendly witch's voice said, soft amusement surrounding her tone.\n\n\"Then.... I guess I've always liked Frederek. Is that a good name?\"\n\n\"It's a better name. It's a strong name, and a fit name for a leader. If you want to be known as Frederek from now on, it'll be done. I'll make sure of it.\"\n\n\"Thank you, uh...\"\n\nFrederek turned around to gaze upon the witch for the first time since leaving his village. His breath caught.\n\nThere was no witch following behind him like he'd thought. Instead, what stood before him was a tall, slender girl with flowing purple hair and yellow eyes. She let out a good natured giggle at his stunned expression.\n\n\"Amethyst. Or Amey, for short,\" she answered his unspoken question. \"It's a pleasure to meet you, Frederek.\"\n\n\"What are you?\" Frederek said alarmed.\n\n\"I'm something... Else, something not quite human, and it would take forever to explain... Would you believe me if I said I didn't mean you any harm?\" Amey asked, a bit shyly.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Frederek answered.\n\n\"At least you're honest. I like that,\" Amey beamed. \"Did you not think it was strange how I looked before?\"\n\n\"... I don't know, I guess maybe not...\" Frederek pondered. \"Wait, who are you, and why would you buy someone like me from my mother for a spell?\"\n\n\"Well, for one thing, I can't really do a spell like that. I have certain little 'tricks' I can do, but that's not one of them.\"\n\n\"Then what? You scammed my mother for ownership of me?\"\n\nAmey panicked and put her small hands up in surrender. \"Not ownership! I don't want to own anyone. I just... thought I'd help give you an escape,\" she finished meekly.\n\n\"An escape,\" Frederek pondered.\n\n\"Yes! Your mother's kind of an awful person, right? I mean, she sold you to an old witchy crone. But now? You're your own person now. You can do whatever you want, go anywhere you want...\"\n\n\"... What did my mother get, exactly?\"\n\n\"Nothing. Should she have gotten something?\" Amey asked, head cocked to the side like a confused dog.\n\n\"... No,\" Frederek said after some thought. \"I suppose not.\"", "Asha had another beating from her mother again. This time, for eating too much of the vegetables at the dinner table. She had been hungry and hoped that her parents wouldn't notice. But they did.\n\n\"You are not leaving enough for Bram!\" Her mother hissed, and slapped her face, sending her metal bowl flying. She fell onto the floor, sobbing.\n\nShe was seven and a hungry girl. She spent her days working out in the paddy fields, and helping with the chores when she was home. \n\n\"Bram needs more food than you, worthless wretch,\" her mother said. \nHer brother looked at her. Where once he would have come to her defense, his eyes were cold.\n\nShe had loved her brother. When she took care of him, he hugged her and looked at her with love. She had hoped that they wouldn't get to him, he wouldn't share that same look, and think that she was another mouth to feed.\n\nYet, the years had passed, and he had grown to look at her the same way they did.\n\nThere was a knock on the door.\n\n\"Get the door, Asha!\" Her mother spat. Asha obeyed.\n\nWhen she opened the door, a horrible sight greeted her. It was an hunched up old woman with wrinkles on her face. Skin peeled off her fingers. \n\n\"Dear child, you look like a nice girl. Where are your parents?\" She said. Though her appearance was frightening, like a witch, her voice was kind. Was it just an act though? Asha couldn't be sure. Her parents had sometimes played terrible tricks on her. She shuddered, and fetched her mother.\n\n\"Ah, Granny, you're here,\" her mother said. \"I hope you brought the payment.\"\n\n\"50 dollars, as promised.\" The witch said, taking out the money from her purse.\n\n\"Thank you so much,\" her mother said quickly taking the money and stuffing it into her pocket. \"What are you going to do to her?\"\n\n\"She'll be an ingredient for a useful spell,\" the witch said, grabbing Asha's arm with her rough hands.\n\nAsha's eyes widened in horror. She had heard tales of witches using children's organs for spells. She tried to pull away, but the witch's hold was strong for her age.\n\nHer mother pushed her out of the house, and slammed the door. Unwanted and unloved, Asha's heart gave up. She felt she was better off dead and she followed the witch. \n\nAsha walked further than she ever had in her life, past paddy fields, rolling hills, into the jungle and past the jungle. It was dark and scary, until she reached a little house, and light shone out from its windows, and laughter rang from its walls.\n\nIt was children's laughter. \n\nWhen the door opened, several children ran to hug the witch, helping her remove her load and all the things she carried. \n\n\"Is this her?\" A boy asked.\n\n\"Me?\" Asha asked.\n\nThey surrounded her and gave her warm hugs.\n\n\"Yes, our sister!\" A little girl carrying a tattered teddy bear said.\n\n\"I'm just .. an ingredient,\" she said, looking down.\n\nA rough arm encircled her shoulders. \"Yes, an ingredient to a happy home. Welcome home, my child.\"" ]	5
	[WP] While driving down a foggy road, you realize you have passed by the same house at least three times.	[ "I’ve been driving for such a long time - can’t even get clear radio reception out this far. I really do wish Mom would move closer to town. And good lord, the fog! It looks as though I might be driving through a cotton ball. I can hardly believe I haven’t hit anyone yet in this weather. This visibility and all. That house on the right, those horrible LED Christmas lights. The colors aren’t quite right. I wonder why they can’t seem to get those colors quite right anymore. They never look like the old ones. They just aren’t warm enough, are they?\n\nMom always used white lights at home. What kid wants to wake up Christmas morning to the glow of a string of white lights? Might as well just string some regular old light bulbs on a tree and be done with it. Mom always said they had classiness that color lights lacked. As if Christmas has anything to do with classiness. Although, I guess for Mom it does. Mom has to have everything up to standard. I hate those clear lights though, almost as much as those LED ones on that house there on the right. Purple? How is purple even a Christmas color now? Honestly. \n\nAt least Mom agrees on that. Purple? She’d be mortified. She was mortified, to be more precise. That year back when Jim tried to put up her decorations for her. What a fool my brother is, not to know that only white lights could possibly suffice on dearest Mother’s proud home. She had him and me take them all down the second she saw them. The next day she bought a new set of “respectable strings”, as she called them, and made poor Jim do the whole house over again. What a day that was. Jim learned I suppose. He never volunteered to help with the ornaments again, and just as well that he shouldn’t. Mom is hard to please. Let one of her neighbor’s boys do it and make a few dollars instead.\n\nBut there they are on another horrible house. Those awful, gaudy, not-quite-right colors. What’s the appeal? Hang on. 245. That’s the address isn’t it? Has Mom had the house painted? It wasn’t blue before. I’m sure it wasn’t blue before. I better pull over. Maybe this is the wrong road entirely. Where am I? Mom would never put up those horrible lights. Even if she had, maybe by accident, I’m sure she’d have called to have them torn down by now. By Christmas Eve. She’d be mortified. Mortified again, to be more precise.\n\nNo cell phone reception either - can’t check the map without the data. But wait, this is definitely Mom’s house. Was it blue before? But the purple lights. This is her house for sure. It’s easier to see now that I’m close. Now that there’s less fog between me and the building. Definitely. The door’s unlocked. Mom was expecting us, I guess. But where is she? Not a sound inside. Not a creature was stirring, as it were. But there’s those horrible LED lights on the tree again. Mom would never... And who’s with Santa here? That’s not me or Jim. Where did Mom get these photos? I’ve never seen any of these people at all. \n\nNo... I must be mistaken. I’ve just wandered into someone’s house. Ha! Some stranger’s house. How embarrassing. I’ll tell Mom later and she’ll laugh, and Jim and his wife will laugh too. I better go back to the truck before I’m mistaken for a burglar. Ha! Blue house, purple lights. How silly of me. I can hardly believe I made such a ridiculous mistake. I must have made a wrong turn. I’ve just been driving for such a long time. It’s easy to make a mistake like that when you’re tired. It’s a cotton ball out here. I’m driving through a cotton ball, an endless cloud. I can hardly believe I haven’t crashed yet. Especially with all these horrible lights on the right up there. They’re so distracting. I really hate those new LED lights. Those colors... purple? They just aren’t warm enough, are they?\n", "It was a rainy and foggy day in Porto Alegre, so foggy me, Michelle and Marta could barely see what was in front of her (Marta's) tiny pearl white Fiat 500 as she cruised through the road. As we pass through a big wooden house in the middle of nothing and follow the narrow road hidden between trees and full of accentuated corners to the distant and isolated neighborhood of Hípica, a yellow Lamborghini Gallardo passes next to us, and I point frenetically to the car passing.\n\n\"Girls!\" - my inner car-crazy's eyes shine in joy as I snap a picture of it with my phone. - \"It's a Lamb...\"\n\n\"Whatever, dude.\" - Michelle makes a disturbed face in the back seat as she texts some stupid guy on Tinder.\n\nI'm not exactly friends with Michelle - to my eyes, she's just Marta's stupid and futile friend. But, whatever the case, being turned down like this isn't something exactly nice, even when coming from someone who almost a complete stranger to you. But I was in Marta's car, so I couldn't really do anything.\n\nSome moments pass, and Marta's iPhone's screen blinks together with a small noise. Someone was messaging her. When she looked at the phone, a cat crossed the road, barely being hit by the car.\n\n\"Wait, what?\" - she reacted to my short little scream.\n\n\"Duuuude, it's just a cat.\"\n\nI sigh as Michelle speaks.\n\n\"God\", I mumble, checking my phone. \"When are we arriving?\", I thought. I never took that way before. Some 2 or 3 minutes pass, and I fall asleep.\n\n~~~~~\n\nSome time later, I wake up again to see a exactly identical Gallardo pass through us.\n\n\"Wait, we just...\"\n\n\"Whoa, you slept for 20 minutes! It's the third time this car passes by us, it passed by 10 minutes ago too. Bizarre, huh? It's probably a car convention or som...\"\n\n\"Wait, that's the same house we've passed by before!\" - Michelle looks right, finally snapping out of her phone. \"Wasn't it on the side of the road when\" - she refers to the Lambo - \"the yellow thing spawned for the second time?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I...\"\n\n\"Did anything happen again too while I was sleeping?\" - I look to them.\n\n\"Oh yeah\" - Marta mumbles - \"the cat. It looked quite similar to the first one.\"\n\n\"Wait, you almost...\" - I.\n\n\"Yup, she almost ran over a cat again, I was listening to Taylor Swift on the phone and...\" - Michelle.\n\n\"How didn't I wake up...? - I.\n\n\"Whatever, whatever! Is this some kind of time-lapse or...\" - Marta.\n\n\"Trapped in time? Stuck in time?\" - I.\n\nA phone makes a noise again.\n\n\"That must be Pedro.\" - Marta grabs the phone, takes a peek at the lockscreen and stares at it. - \"Three equal messages, one now, one 10 minutes ago, one 20 minutes ago? He's creeping me out!\"\n\n\"How didn't you see the one 10 minutes ago?\" - Michelle bends towards the front seats.\n\n\"I don't know, your stupid Taylor Swift was playing!\" - Marta looks back.\n\n\"We were supposed to be already there!\" - I look back, and suddenly no one is paying attention to the road.\n\n\"I know, I know, I know!\"\n\nAll of a sudden, a cat crosses the road. Marta tries to brake as we scream, but it's too late. The tiny car runs over it at at least 50 mph, with we three in it. The Cinquecento goes on two wheels and rolls over the road as 7 airbags open, only stopping to roll over some 40 seconds later, next to a lake and between trees. We all stand in the car upside down, wrapped to our seatbelts, among tree debris, broken glass and the deployed airbag. Michelle wasn't wearing a seatbelt... she's not there, only a mark of blood near the back window. A headache comes and intensifies, and before me and Marta can say anything, we faint.\n\n~~~~~\n\nI and Marta wake up each in a single bed in a widely windowed room in the third and last floor of a wooden house, completely immersed in pure sunlight. Some 10 minutes passed since we rolled over in my phone's clock, which was still in my pocket. My arms and legs are scratched, and I'm wearing the same clothes, just like Marta.\n\nWe walk to the window silently and only look to each other's faces. The house lies next to a road and above many trees and a lake, where a white car lies upside down. To the left, we can see the center of Porto Alegre, together with the Guaíba River. A loud noise comes from the road. It's the yellow Lambo Gallardo... but there is a body on the other side of the road, briefly inside of a bush, surrounded by a pool of blood.\n\n\"Michelle?\" - Marta gasps and falls to the floor. There is blood all over our beds' sheets, but we are only scratched.\n\n\"What the...\", I scream and run to the door. It is locked.\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nEDIT: a word.", "I stopped on the side of the road, the whirring of the engine still purring as I put the hand brake on. I had been been going in a circle, the round about filled with houses and none of the streets marked with any obvious indicators, you know, signs?\n\n\nI rubbed my eyes again. The coffee was wearing out already and I couldn't remember which number house was my father-in-law's. Being late was a family Christmas but a few days is not within the acceptable range of time. \n\n\nI looked at my phone again, watching in futility as the screen turned black. The maps in the glove box wasn't of this era, nor were there any people around. The fog engulfed my truck, flanking the top with a thin film of dew forming already. The damp trees coated the wooden houses with a lining of moss. I sighed, put the truck into first gear and started off again...", "At first I just rubbed my eyes and shook my head. \n\nI'd been awake for so long that I'd started to see things, and besides, when you're this far out from the city, all these old houses look the same. The fourth time I saw it I started to feel a little unnerved. The houses out here may look the same, but how many houses around here are made purely of white brick?\n\nI pushed the accelerator a little harder.\n\nFor a while, I couldn't bring myself to look anywhere but at the straight road ahead. Not that I could really see much. The fog swirled like clouds on a sea of black, curling around the car in a hypnotic kind of way. It reminded me of a warm bed on a cold night, and milk and cookies, and lavender.\n\nI clenched my jaw and kept going.\n\nWhen I finally allowed my eyes to wander, the house I saw was of dusty red brick, with well kept grass, and a truck in the driveway. I sighed deeply, and pulled over, reaching into my bag for a caffeine tablet. I really just wanted to get home quickly. I was back out onto the road a few minutes later. \n\nThen I saw it again.\n\nPure white brick, surrounded by long, unkept green grass, but before it was dark, and dormant. This time, the living room light was on, and if I squinted, I could make out a figure standing by the door. My hand wrapped instinctively around the knife I kept in my hidden jacket pocket, but after fifteen minutes with no appearance from the house, my grip loosened, and I breathed. Maybe the houses out there really were similar, I thought. It was a while before I realised that the car was still driving, the speed meter showed 60 mph, but the world around me was absolutely still, with the white house frozen to a spot on my left. This time, a figure was moving slowly through the grass, and no matter how much I stomped on the accelerator, nothing moved. \n\nThe car stopped. \n\nAnd the fog thickened.\n\nAnd as the figure got closer and closer, and my grip on my knife tightened, my eyelids got heavier and heavier, and my vision blurred, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I was still awake. So as my eyelids slowly drifted shut, I watched it, get closer and closer, before dreaming of warm things; like milk and cookies, and cosy beds, and blood. Oh so much blood. " ]	4
	[WP] You are the most dangerous person on the planet, but you are also the laziest procrastinator.	[ "Call me Jör. It's short for something but the whole thing is a mouthful. People have been waiting for me to destroy the world for eons. I could do it, too, but I probably won't. You see...I keep getting distracted. First it was all the ships full of interesting people full of tales of the lands. After that people caught on and some even started sending me tellers of tales.\n\nMost recently, though, someone built an underwater research station and...well...there are nearly six hundred channels to watch. Really, though, someday I should get around to destroying the world. There is a prophecy saying I will and all, and I wouldn't want to disappoint my dad. He gets downright vicious when he gets disappointed. In the meantime there's a Star Wars marathon on so I just really don't feel up to it." ]	1
	[WP] You lied to me, and you made sure I knew it.	[ "The young woman who came into my office was dressed very well. Her nails were perfectly manicured. Her suit and skirt weren't made by a factory- they were hand tailored. Every brow had been plucked to the last stray, every tooth filed into a point.\n\n\"So, I assume that you'll be signing the contract now, Councilman.\" she told me.\n\n\"Yeah. Although I don't want to approve of this, I'm risking the vote for the upcoming election.\" I told her.\n\n\"I know that. I made sure that you needed to sign this. I need the soldiers to get that oil field back in our hands.\"\n\n\"By taking them off of the front lines? By endangering women and children in the border towns?\"\n\n\"I'm not here to talk ethics.\" she said. \"I'm here to get a signature.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" I got out a pen and started going through the contract. I had read it at least ten times, but I had to be sure that she hadn't added any stipends. She was known for that kind of thing.\n\n\"You know, I don't appreciate you lying to me about the Resistance. They wouldn't have started fighting us if we didn't show up armed to the teeth.\"\n\n\"My intel suggested...\" she began.\n\n\"You made up that intel. You lied to me.\"\n\n\"Well, no cameras here. No point in lying about it now. I wanted to show you that I can play your game and win. I didn't appreciate you telling my opponents intimate details about my recent scandal. I'm making sure that you know I can be just as underhanded as you.\"\n\n\"I never had anyone die because of a lie!\" I snapped.\n\n\"Careful, Councilman.\" she tapped her fingers on my desk. \"One small step and you'll break down everything you worked so hard for.\"\n\nI handed her the signed contract. \"You could have had a runner do this. I don't understand why you had to come here yourself.\"\n\n\"Well...\" she smiled. \"Every once and a while I do like to say hello to my dear old father in his office.\" she took the ducument. \"Mom said that she's worried about us being on opposing sides of the issue.\"\n\n\"All of the yelling is mostly just editing.\"\n\n\"Sure. I see you as my Dad, or I see you as my political rival. Never both at the same time.\"\n\nShe got up and left. \"Good day, Councilman.\"\n\nI had taught her everything she knew about politics. I had created her image. I knew that she was a power-hungry politician who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, but...\n\nI was still so proud of her. She couldn't throw a football like her brothers, but she sure as hell could cook her old man in a courthouse. \n\nI sighed, and leaned back. She had the troops for now, but it was only a matter of time before she made a mistake. And when she did, I would be there, waiting. Her shoulder to cry on, as her father... and waiting to stab her in the back as her opponent. \n\nOnly one of us could win.\n\nAnd I wouldn't let my greatest protege take me down without a fight.", "\"You lied to me, and you made sure I knew it! And now you're confronting me about it, making sure I heard your little fable,\" Meghan said. Her emerald green dress flicked the spotlight off of her like a beautiful prism.\n\n\"Oh it was a white lie Meghan!\" Sam shouted. The entire room rolled its focus onto us, he knew she'd hate that.\n\n\"A white lie? You went around telling everyone you'd slept with this girl and that girl and went to the trouble of, of adding your face to pictures of these whores in bed- and it's a white lie?!\" Her arms were all over the place with each word but her corsage was on the ground by the end of it.\n\n\"I wanted to see how much you trusted me...\"\n\n\"Ever heard of a trust fall Sam?! It's where you don't go crazy and fake at least five affairs and tell all of your girlfriend's friends about it! All that would have given you, worst case scenario, is a bump on the head. Now you've lost all of this!\" She waved her hand down her body. The snap he expected to tell him she was leaving the spotlight never came, he would have left his head hanging anyway. He just wanted to know if she'd come after him for it; if she loved him more than he loved her. It was only a few white lies.", "You see this?\n\nI call it a broken heart.\nBroken pieces of the man I used to be, or rather,\nThe man I thought I was when the glow of your presence cast its warmth upon me.\n\nSee,\nBeing one half of a whole is tough,\nWhen that whole becomes two halves,\nThe only thing that lasts are memories,\nThoughts of good times passed,\nLaughs.\n\nTears fill the cracks that run along the arteries separating me from life's mortal coil,\nI go limp as you rip the spine from my back,\nLeaving without turning to look,\nChaos in your wake,\nYou left.\n" ]	3
	[WP] A 10 year old child can see and interact with a number of ghosts who accompany and guide the kid. The problem is, they're all ghosts of famous warriors and generals; Genghis Khan, Julius Caesar, Oda Nobunaga, Erwin Rommel etc. The advice they give is...very uncommon for a 10 year old.	[ "\"I'm not sure guys. I think that is crossing the line.\"\n\nThey had a small discussion where their voices didn't carry to his ears then one of the old Asian guys knelt down to look him eye to eye.\n\n\"We've discussed it Paul. You remember how we talked about only have one go around the sun, one life to live. This is it buddy. Tomorrow today will be yesterday.\"\n\nPaul nodded slowly.\n\n\"Besides,\" one of the older white guys said, \"What is the worse thing that can happen?\"\n\n\"She might... She might laugh at me.\"\n\n\"She might.\" Someone agreed.\n\n\"We can go to the pond afterward.\" Someone else said.\n\n\"Aren't I asking her to go to the pond?\" Paul asked.\n\n\"Yup.\" - \"Yes\" - \"I thought so.\"\n\n\"So she says no we still go to the pond. No problems.\"\n\n\"No problems.\" Paul said. He smiled.\n\nFive minutes later the guys were cheering and clapping when she said yes. They faded away as they did when he was with other people.\n\nWhen they reached the pond Andy was there with Nick and Carl.\n\nPaul stopped short.\n\n\"We can leave.\" She said pulling him backward.\n\n\"Hey snot ball!\" Andy called out when he saw Paul. He was two years older and a bully.\n\nThe guys were there instantly.\n\n\"What should we do?\" One of the older guys asked.\n\n\"Leave peacefully.\" Paul said echoing their constant advice when it came to Andy.\n\n\"Just once...\"\n\n\"What Paul. You want to hurt him. We talked about this. What comes of violence?\"\n\n\"More violence.\"\n\n\"If we've we learned anything from passing through the veil it that there is always another way.\"\n\n\"Sara will think I'm a coward.\"\n\nOne of the older men knelt down, \"It's possible. Dose that mean you shouldn't do the right thing?\"\n\n\"No.\" Paul said slowly.\n\n\"Come on then. There is always the playground.\"\n\nOut loud Paul turned to Sara and suggested the playground, they turned around.", "The walls of this hospital are blinding white. In the background I can hear the beeping of some poor guys ECM machine. In front of me is a padded cell with a heavy steel door. As usual, a family are crying to me about how their kid just “isn’t the same” and they want the old him back. I’m hardly paying attention to them, to be honest – just pretending to look interested is taking most of my patience.\n\nTo be honest with you, I hate this job. When I first decided I wanted to be a therapist, it was because I felt I could ‘read body language’ and was generally a ‘people person’. My friends and family always told me I was great at picking people up when they were down, and could trust me when they needed help. These are really things I put in my A-level and UCAS personal statements. And now that I’m here, half of it is just assigning my clients symptoms and thoughts to certain conditions using basically a spreadsheet and then going through a template with different reassurances. ‘You need to move on’. ‘Life won’t wait for you’. ‘All wounds take time to heal’. I’m basically a human fucking fortune cookie for Christ’s sake.\n\nAnd kids, for god’s sake. When I first got my license to help kids I thought it’d be at least ten times more altruistic and really add a purpose to my career – make me a real Bill Gates, you know? But it’s the same shit. Only difference is it’s about ten times as depressing; really I just try to block it out, all that stuff about abuse and that. Won’t do me no good.\n\nThe family have finally stopped talking and walked off, sobbing of course. They’re always sobbing. Do they think that it’ll affect me anyhow? It just makes it more awkward. I’m a paid professional, so your tears won’t make me work faster or harder, god dammit. Just let me do my god damn job. Anyway, they’ve walked off and here comes the nurse with the key to show me in. Real nice nurse, truth be told. His names Simon. Real handsome guy. I’m sure he’s going great places. I heard he can play all kinds of guitars, which I guess explains that constant shit-eating grin on his face. Must be a real ladies man. Really pisses me off, he does, with his shit-eating grin. We’re in a hospital. It’s only right that you’re as depressed as anyone else. Youth’s these days have no sense of what’s appropriate. So anyway, he’s showing me in and I see the kid.\n\nAnd he instantly strikes me as off. I mean he’s a real small kid, I was expecting something way bigger. Granted I wasn’t paying much attention in the first place, but I thought he’d be at least sixteen or seventeen. Naff. This is a real small kid, eleven or twelve max. I’m walking up to him as the door shuts behind me – the padding is soft, mind you, so no doubt my feet are quiet, but not that quiet, you know? He’s facing away from me; ignoring me. And I’m just thinking damn, a ten year old in a padded cell? He must really be the real deal.\nSo I sit in front of him and cross my legs and give him the old beaming smile that always works to get their guard down. I say, “What’s up Daniel?” And you know what he says to me?\n\nNothin’. The kid just stares me in the eye and then sizes me up, like he wants to take a god dammed bite out of my neck or something. I’m lookin’ at his teeth, you know, real pearly whites. No doubt his parents invested a lot of time and expensive tooth paste for those pearly whites. Maybe that’s why they were crying, they lost money on their investment or some jazz. But those pearly whites can be real deceiving. My brother told me that the human mouth contains more bacteria than a dogs, and you can get real bad infections if a human bites you. Mind you my brother died of tetanus. Not from a human bite, that is - he was just a heroin addict. Just saying goes to show it doesn’t make much difference how infectious the human mouth can be if you’re a god dammed junkie anyway, right?\n\nAnyway I’m lookin’ at his teeth but they’re not all that frightening. I’m thinkin’ if he tries to bite me I can just kinda punch him off before he does any real damage. And then he says to me, “I am well,”, and the kid just closes his eyes and sets his jaw. What an attitude that kid had. So I ask him, I’m going straight to the point, you know? I ask him, “So what’s about all these ghosts you’ve been seeing”. And he says to me, “I’ve been chosen by Jah himself to restore the true nature of man. All men are equal. Capitalism unbound has delivered us into not only an oligarchy, but the second stage of feudalism. Men have illusions of upward mobility boosted by the media and popular icons that allow them to be content with their positions. In any other time their would be screaming in the streets. The people of the world would have revolted against their oppressors. But they are kept ruly by bread and circuses. I have been sent to restore the natural order”.\n\nI’m like woahhh. And I’m tellin’ you my jaw drops to the god damn floor. Bread and circuses? The natural order? What god damned drugs is this kid on? So I tell him, “Can you repeat that for me, in a simpler way?”. And he closes his eyes and huffs all angry like, as if I’m not the one spending time out of his god damned day to help this kid be a normal god damned child. He says, “I want to seize the means of production and overthrow this new-world bourgeois hegemony.” I’m telling you this ain’t a joke. He’s really crazy, really on one. He starts telling me about how he’s being followed by the ghosts of Marx and Lenin Trotsky and whatnot, and something about eight years and being a Bolshevik forever. This kids been listening to the mutterings of the ghosts of communists since before he could even god damned walk. And I’m really starting to get jealous of my junky brother, you know? At least he died doing something he loved. Or at least because of something he loved. I’m witnessing the new Hitler or Stalin or something. I can already see him at fourteen years old leading troops of “Young Communists” or socialists or whatever revolutionaries call themselves these days. And you wanna know what? I decide I’ve had enough.\n\nI’m telling you I’m out of the door. I don’t say bye or anything. I leave that hospital, go home, pack my things a book a flight to here in god damn Laos. I didn’t even know that Laos existed until the day I decided to get my ass out of the damned UK. Who knows what happens in Laos? Nobody. Same thing as Mauritania. Who knows about that god damned country? Anyway, I hope at least that the communists don’t. The way I see it, you know, it’s not my responsibility. I’m not the preacher that saved Hitler from drowning, I’m not the god damned faggot that saved Reagan or whoever. I’m just a failed therapist. There’ll be others that fail too, I saw it in his eyes. Not my responsibility, I’m telling you. I didn’t sign up for that shit.\n", "Since George received The Book Of War for his tenth birthday, his life has been different. He had so much advice from so many historical figures, but the problem was... all they really knew to do was warfare. George is currently a sophomore in high school, and is trying to ask a girl out on a date. In order to get advice from warriors of a time gone by, George keeps the small book in his shirt pocket at all times.\n\n\"Come on kid, you can do this! just walk up to her and show her you've got some fucking balls! Look her in the eyes, firmly shake her hand, and tell her you wanna turn her over and fuck her in the ass!\", yelled General Patton, who, while he did teach a younger George how to stand up for himself, was a bit too aggressive as of late.\n\n\"don't listen to that capitalist pig, my dear! What a lady really likes is for you to take aim and wait for your shot to line up!\" , Lyudmila Pavlichenko called. While she had been great at teaching George about sharpshooting, all her advice revolved around sniping. \n\n\"The commie and the trigger-happy Yankee, both wrong as usual. I'm telling you boy, you've gotta strike fast and hard, showing all of your skills at once in order to woo this girl!\" said Rommel. George usually tried to distance himself from the advice of the Nazi, but he found that his ideas worked well in Civ V. \n\nThen Eisenhower spoke. \"right now, even my old friend Patton isn't getting it right. What you've gotta do is plan ahead. Do all you can to prepare yourself for the future, then when you're ready go out and do it.\" \n\nBefore George could decide which path to pick, the girl had walked up to him. For the first time ever, George noticed the small little book she had too. The Book of Peace. The girl kissed George, and he couldn't help but notice behind her the apparition of Gandhi giving a thumbs up.", "A cloud of dust sprang up where Tom hit the ground, his ears rang only able to hear the malicious laughter of Gary as him and his cronies walked away. Sitting up he began to sniffle as he held his shin in an effort to dull the pain from the newest scrape.\n\n\n'Stand up boy, there's no point crying into the dirt.' Tom looked up to see a man standing in front of him. Rising to his feet he asked 'Who are you?'\n\n\n'My name was Alexander, and you are no longer going to allow that bully to push you around.'\n\n\n'How can I stop him?' Tom asked, wiping the tears from his face.\n\n\n'Easily we just kill him.' Grumble a rough looking man, standing up from a nearby bench.\n\n\n'No Genghis, we can't just kill him.' The new voice came from a bearded man wearing a cape. 'Not only will it encourage his family to pursue vengeance but I am sure that it will get young Tom here in trouble with his teacher.'\n\n\n'Yes, Hannibal is correct, but we can not allow this to continue.' Said the short man with the french accent.\n\n\n'He must be made an example of, so that peace can be made for everyone.' The Japanese man added, putting his hand on the pommel of the sword at his waist.\n\n\nThe German man in the green suit said 'Whatever it is that we do we must strike with speed, or else lose the advantage of surprise.' \n\n\n'I'm telling you Rommel, we kill him not only is it fast but it makes a statement that we are a power to be reckoned with just like Oda wants.' Genghis bellowed throwing his hands into the air.\n\n\nNo, we can't kill him, look at Tom he's just a 10 year old child. Napoleon said gesturing towards the boy.\n\n\n'It's true we must defeat him but let him live as an example.' Alexander said holding up his hand to the Khan. 'But how shall young Tom here do it, he has not the numbers or size that our foe has.'\n\n\n'Well then,' Hannibal stroked his beard 'Our boy here must either recruit allies or strike with a superior advantage where he is not expected.'\n\n\n'We do not have access to any superior technology, so we must use superior numbers.' Oda said furrowing his brow. Only united will we have the strength to prosper.\n\n\n'Yes, we must have the peoples' hearts and then we will have victory.' Cried Napoleon.\n\n\n'Hmm, uniting the different factions under one name would make us the true power here.' Genghis said holding his chin.\n\n\n'And,' Rommel added 'There should be many who have grown tired of this bullies antics over the years.'\n\n\n'Those who do not wish to aid us for our cause can always be bought as aid by other promises.' Hannibal Said.\n\n\n'Yes.' Oda nodded 'Money can be used to gain followers from those who would stand on the sidelines otherwise.'\n\n\n'I believe, that with them we can strike him down and drive him from the yard, broken and unwilling to rise back up against Tom ever again.' Agreed Alexander.\n\n\nA sound of agreement came from the others. \n\n\nTurning back to the boy Alexander placed a hand on his shoulder and said 'Then it is agreed young Tom, we will help you in uniting those who have been pushed around by this bully, recruit allies from those who are unaligned and then you will strike and drive him from here, to create a new and prosperous era for everyone.'\n\n\nMrs. Jones the fifth grade teacher looked up at the clock from her paper to see if class had begun again, but there was still a half hour left of break. Puzzled by the silence that had replaced to usual roar of break she stood and looked out the window. Greeted by the sight of stillness, the children were not playing, they were all standing looking towards the figure of a boy standing atop the jungle gym.\n\n\nTom stood viewing his new kingdom, he knew he was to be fated for greatness. First he had conquered the playground, next the world.", "\"Hey fag!\" the Bully said as he shoved the Kid.\n\nCharles the Hammer addressed the Kid. \"He might be merely launching a probing attack, but you have know way of knowing for sure what he is really planning. Launch a frontal assault on him, just to be safe.\"\n\nJulius Caesar shook his head. \"No, just give him your lunch money today. Then come back tomorrow and hang him and his friends.\"\n\nErwin Rommel shoved Caesar aside. \"Don't take advice from Italians. They don't know how to fight. They got defeated by the French at the same time we were marching into their capital. Oh, and don't get me started on Greece and Egypt...\"\n\nThe Kid looked around. Why was a Nazi standing next to him? \"Wait, what's going on? Who are you?\"\n\n\"Who are you talking to, gaywad?\" the Bully asked.\n\nHatshepsut scoffed. \"Ignore him... and ignore Rommel and Julius. Just apply overwhelming force against this brat. Get some friends and attack him front on. He will yield.\"\n\nThe Kid blinked. Then he stared at the topless woman in a conical hat and a short skirt.\n\nShe shook her head and crossed her arms around her chest. \"Well, he's definitely no 'gaywad.' Hannibal, why don't you take over?\"\n\nA bearded man appeared. \"She's right, you need to get some friends. Then you must encircle him and beat him. His friends will withdraw, leaving him at your mercy.\"\n\n\"He's right, in some ways.\" A black man holding a spear and an oval shield shoved passed the bearded man and the woman. \"But when you and your friends encircle them, you must leave an opening in the rear. If he and his friends have no hope of escape, they will fight to the death!\"\n\nThen Attila stepped forward. \"Shaka, that is irrelevant. If you have a chance to destroy them, you must. And then you must destroy their women. Otherwise they will give birth to sons who will seek you and destroy you as you destroyed their fathers.\"\n\nA man dressed in black with a balaclava over his face intruded. \"Do not destroy their women. You must make them - and the surviving men - your own! And you must punish-\"\n\nSaladin pushed Attila aside. \"Oh fuck off. You don't know nothing about no Holy War.\"\n\nBalaclava Man pulled out a machete. \"It is the obligation of -\"\n\n\"Richard,\" Saladin said, \"How about we teach this punk what a real Holy War is all about? I'll forgive you for executing my men at Acre...\"\n\n\"And I'll forgive you for the murders at Hattin. Let's roll,\" Richard said as he clasped Saladin's hand with one of his and drew his sword with the other.\n\n\"Well, Attila's right. Don't disregard their women,\" Boadicea said as she moved past the three holy warriors. \"They will come back to haunt you.\"\n\nSeveral of the assembled ghosts started laughing.\n\n\"You might laugh, now, but when my descendants drove the Romans out of Britain the Romans weren't laughing!\"\n\n\"Out of the way!\" Robert Gould Shaw strode to the front, waving his saber. \"Ignore these barbarians! You are fighting against injustice! Attack him. You might lose, but in the end you will be victorious.\"\n\n\"Ignore this rich Yankee loser. I started out as a nothing just like you, then proved myself to rise from private to general! You have to work on improving yourself. When you do that, no one can stop you!\" Nathan Bedford Forrest appeared across from Shaw.\n\n\"Don't take advice from this demon!\" Shaw shouted.\n\n\"Says the man who got half his regiment killed,\" Forrest said as he drew his sword.\n\n\"They died fighting for freedom!\" Shaw shouted as he pulled out his ghostly revolver.\n\n\"What would a bunch of niggers do with freedom?\" Forrest smirked.\n\n\"You are about to find out!\" Shaka shouted as he charged towards Forrest with his assagai.\n\nAs the three ghosts battled it out with their spectral weapons, a skinny man in a white robe slowly walked forward.\n\n\"Please, ignore them. They seek the path of war. It never changes. It always leads to the death and destruction. There are no victors in war. I was not a Christian, but Christ had many things to teach that are useful to us all. All of those you see before you today lived by the sword and most of them died by the sword.\"\n\n\"I didn't,\" Caesar told Mahatma Gandhi.\n\n\"Semantics, Caesar. You died of the dagger when you were murdered by your friend. Then the Prince of Peace was executed under one of your successors.\"\n\nThen another figure pushed forward, a man wearing a cowboy hat. \"Nah, Kid. Why are you listening to a bunch of dead commies from France and India? Just do what I did. Just execution a decapitationing strike against you're bully. That'll get rid of them for good! Get help from the other schoolyard bullies! They'll help you. Because once he's out of the way, then they can take over his role as the bully and they will leave you alone because you helped them out! True, they might bully other kids, but they aren't you so that don't matter, right?\"\n\nThe other ghosts stopped and stared at this newcomer. \"Does this idiot hear himself talk?\" Martel said as he shook his head.\n\n\"Probably not. He's the same moron that read one page of my book and attempted to implement my strategies and tactics while calling them his own - and failed horribly by not reading the rest of my book,\" Sun Tzu said with disgust.\n\n\"General Tzu, if you think what he did with your book is bad, you should see what he did with mine. Kid, unless you want to end up fighting the Bully until you graduate, ignore that idiot,\" Carl von Clausewitz said.\n\nThe figure in the cowboy hat vanished.\n\nAll of the figures were pushed aside as a new spectral figure appeared. \"Ignore them. They have failed, especially the last one to arrive. I have not. You will not. Punch your tormentor on his right side at the lowest rib as hard as you can. He will go down. Then walk away.\"\n\nThe new spectre then walked away and vanished. The rest of the ghosts did, too.\n\n\"Who are you talking to, fag?\" the Bully demanded.\n\nThe Kid pivoted his hip back. Then he pivoted it forward, bringing his right hand, balled into a fist, into the Bully's lower right rib cage. Bones cracked. The Bully crumpled.\n\n\"Finish him!\" he heard someone - something- whisper into his ear.\n\nHe grabbed the Bully by his hair. He slammed the Bully's head into the ground. Again. Again. Again. The Bully's head was surrounded by a pool of blood. The Bully didn't get up.\n\nThe Kid walked away.", "Amy took his milk. He didn't imagine it and the act was unprovoked. She just took it.\n\n\"Slay her,\" a bitter voice whispered from his shoulder. \"She deserves no mercy for this disgrace.\" Ghengis Khan was apparently fuming. Her slight offended him so.\n\n\"Yes, but first he must find her allies,\" prodded another voice from the air. Oda Nobunaga eyed the lunch table suspiciously. \"Look there, her friends watch you with sly grins and mocking whispers. Gather an army immediately.\"\n\nMax was confused. He had not a violent bone in his body.\n\n\"Now, now. We must first engage with some kind of dialogue,\" spoke a deep and hearty voice. Julius Caeser set his hand on Max's shoulder. \"Perhaps that milk she consumes without care was unknown to be your-\"\n\n\"Nein!\" shrieked another. Erwin Rommel looked at Julius in disbelief. \"She clearly saw the boy with his milk. She is testing him you fool.\" Erwin pet his cleft chin in thought then peered quickly along the edges of the cafeteria. \"There, her backpack,\" he pointed. \"Go with your leftover food and empty it inside. That shall teach her never to defy you again. The plan shall not fail!\" he squawked with an arm extended.\n\nMax looked to his plastic tray, the half eaten mash potatoes and gravy with carrots and peas sat sloppily in front of him.\n\n\"Dialogue my dear boy,\" Julius finished with an assured nod. Ghengis was motioning his finger across his throat. Oda was still searching for covert supporters among the sea of tiny heads that glutted the lunch table.\n\nMax peered at his friends and then back at the culprit. Her golden hair rest softly to one side. Her eyes glittered a light hazel, beckoning him to strike. Perhaps to force an irrecoverable blunder.\n\n\"Hello.. That's my milk you're drinking,\" he said rather shyly. His cheeks painted red with anticipation. The sound of groans and the slaps from collective facepalmings could be heard behind. Julius watched on with an attentive smile unperturbed.\n\n\"Oh, I'm sorry!\" she chirped. \"Here, I have an extra juice. You can have it!\"" ]	6
	[WP] We all know about the living dead. Tell me about the dead living.	[ "<Part 1> \nThere are people who move amongst us, whose time on this planet has already passed. We know them, we talk with them, we buy furniture with them. For now, we can never tell them apart.\n\nThe presence of the dead living is unequivocal proof that our world is purely deterministic, that free will is an illusion. The phenomenon can be explained pretty easily. When people die, their soul is removed from their body. For some, this happens too soon. Before the cause of death, their soul starts to get sucked out of their body. They continue to function, soulless, until the cause of ‘death’ inevitably arrives. Research is still being done about how exactly this works, and what we should look out for, but some things are apparent. They start to lose the ability to feel emotions. Anger, fear, joy, disgust, sadness; they start to become more and more detached and emotionless, as death nears. In the moments before death, you can almost smell it on them. \n\nSymptoms were first reported in many terminally ill patients, probably because that’s where they were first noticed. After a common thread was established between patients of various chronic diseases, research was started at the Institute of Mental Health at John’s Hopkins University. The project was inconspicuously titled ‘Depression Symptoms exhibited by terminally ill patients’ The direction taken by researchers was to try to understand why these depression symptoms, which seemed to be common to all terminally ill patients, were ignored earlier. It seemed painfully obvious to everyone that, people who are awaiting death are going to be depressed. The fact that the symptoms were now magnified could have been something that was just ignored until now. \n\nThings started to change when parents, spouses and close relatives started reporting cases of sudden onset of depression. This was followed by the demise of the patient, a few days later, through completely unrelated causes, ranging from car accidents to heart attacks. The patients themselves reported nothing different. There have been just over a hundred such cases over the past year. Researchers were forced to conclude that something more global, more widespread is at play. \n\nIn suburban New Jersey, a family’s life is about to be turned upside down.\n", "\"Yeah, there's death everywhere, each cell is a rigged filtering membrane with its own disintegration encoded in it. People somehow see separation as the action of death, but mechanically your body unifies with your environment through the process of decomposition.\" \n\n\"Geezus, Chris, don't bury me in your bullshit, just keep digging\"\n\nA few shovel-loads of dirt erupt from the deepening grave. \n\n\"I mean people get all hung up on dying, like worrying about the curtain drop for hours and missing the play”\n\n“Look.” Jeremy leaned on the spade, evening his anger with a few breaths before he continued;\n\n “We've got less than an hour before the sun comes up, and I'm sick of being in THIS grave, can you make your point so we can get out of here?”\n\nThe young man rested his shoulders on the clay loam and rock wall behind him. Glancing up to the first shimmers of light behind the still web of imposed limbs; he began speaking, slowly;\n\n“You're making my point, always pointed toward an end, anxious and unsettled. Lifespans spent vaccinating existence with little bits of distance, coldness, world-weariness, incorporating of all these little deaths into yourself until that thing you feared, finally replaces the thing you thought you were protecting” \n\nListening, Jeremy's rough digits twist around the ash handle; the stiff back, long night and smell of the soil fertilized a horizon of deep rage seeping upwards in his mind through muted images of humiliation, of buckling cowardice in front of powerful men for what, he thought..for pay?\n\n“...titles about as meaningful as these gravestones, NAME and DATEs OF OCCUPANCY anything unique, anything indicating life, gone and totally forgotten. This culture, this whole “paying to live” scam, starts burying us as soon as we're born, the media's got shovels, churches, bosses...” \n\nHe was still speaking, but Jeremy was sure it was his heart's thump resounding in this cemetery cubicle, that kept stirring his dimly-remembered will with its strange fire seeking a form.\n\n“and we're left on this bare rock, starved of all skills and languages of land; left to face the Four Horsemen with nothing but a paycheck stub to wave at them.” \n\nCrows calls were joined by birdsong and squirrel chatter on the margins of the graveyard, as the sun crested the horizon, the two men shared a long silence peering from that hole, upwards. \n\n“There” Chris said, with some satisfaction. \n\n“What?” \n\n “My point, that was my point, I made it.” \n\n“Oh, well….\" he replies, adding lightly; \n\"I think this is deep enough….” An approving nod was exchanged. \n\nJeremy stood on his spade to hoist himself to holes edge. Clamoring onto the dew-moistened tarp he reaches back to pull Chris up. \n\n“You know that witness…?”\n\n“The one we dug this for….” Chris huffs brushing the dirt from his overalls\n\n“Yeah, he's not going in there...” \n\nPutting the shovels into the truckbed, Jeremy grabs his coat and motions for Chris to get in the truck. \n“….I've got a better idea” \n\nClosing the passenger door, Chris blinks from the morning light, for a moment, confused and turns to see the driver on the phone. \n\n“Yeah, yeah boss….” a grin peaks from the corners of Jeremy's mouth \n“We've got your hole dug.”\n", "A relevant comment in this thread was deleted. You can read it below.\n\n----\n\nThe living dead were...well...unscrupulous to say the least. What horrified the town nowadays though, was the dead living. They were a vile, despicable breed of monsters. A breed which surpassed savagery, pushed the boundaries of terrifying, and also were very rude. \n\nWorst of all though?\n\nThey had serious grammatical issues when trying to articulate their evil thoughts. You see - the dead living were a product of more than one vial intention. [[Continued...]](http://www.resavr.com/comment/wp-all-about-living-2321219)\n\n----\n\n\n^The ^username ^of ^the ^original ^author ^has ^been ^hidden ^for ^their ^own ^privacy. ^If ^you ^are ^the ^original ^author ^of ^this ^comment ^and ^want ^it ^removed, ^please [^[Send ^this ^PM]](http://np.reddit.com/message/compose?to=resavr_bot&subject=remove&message=2321219)", "There is actually a moment – singular and separate from all others – that one can point to in the timeline of a life and say, “There. That. That is the space between living and, well, not quite so much of it.”\n\nHowever, nobody actually takes the time out of their own days to make this sort of announcement about anyone else, because they tend to collect terribly disparaging looks when engaging in that sort of behavior. With a furrowed brow and pinched lips, most listeners eagerly attempt to physically engrave into their faces the signs of their mental efforts to reject all that the one pointing out that slippery ‘moment’ is endeavoring to assert. No one wants to believe that the life can leave someone’s eyes before they hit the ground. \n\nIt is, however, a pinch more kosher to point out that someone may have been dead living after they have actually hit the ground and been summarily buried. \nAs family members and loved ones dig through the rotting remains of a life in the house, apartment, shack, nook, cranny, or wherever the recently deceased had spent the final years and months of their life, the habits and traditions of their existence emerge through pictures, clothing, colognes and perfumes, books, letters, terrariums, wrappers, receipts, loose nails, and scuffed floorboards. In death, a spotlight is shot directly onto the structural foundations of a person’s lifestyle, making it near impossible to ignore when obvious and terrible patterns emerge.\n\n“It feels wrong to even be saying this, but I just don’t see… there isn’t… I mean, what was he doing for the past thirty years?”\n\n“Did she ever get out of that chair? Did she ever move?”\n\n“That last while he seemed fine, but, thinking back on it, I can’t remember anything we spoke about. We had conversations, but we never talked about anything that – and I hate to put it this way, you know – mattered. We shot the breeze, yeah, but it was… it was scripted, not improv. There was the weather, the kids, the economy, but he was nowhere in the middle of it. He used to make me laugh my lungs out at every other word when we were kids, but at some point he stopped saying surprising things, charming things, personal things. He stopped, and I’m not sure where, but it was a long time before all of this. The cancer didn’t do it. It was earlier. Much earlier. I swept it all under the rug, because I didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t sick then. He was fine.”\n\n“I know it sounds callous, but I couldn’t be sad at her wake. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why at first, but then I realized I had already been mourning her death for years now. She wasn’t there anymore. You saw it too, right? That spark she always brought to the table had been ashes for a while. The lights were on, somebody was home, but they wouldn’t get up to answer the door no matter how many times I knocked. God, it hurt to see her all the time, but not be able to reach her. Goddamn. It was done before it was done, you know?”\n\nIt is okay to talk about those that died while still alive when actual, physical death is there to muffle the implication. It becomes acceptable to ruminate on how the dead were living at one point in the past with their nails in the soil, burying dreams, loves, aspirations, friends, children, and, that somewhere along the way, they lost the ability to lift their head up and gaze forward. Somewhere along the road, the focus on living gave way to a slow, loose descent towards an end.\n", "Monday morning, six AM. Alarm clock rings. Snooze. I was dreaming about a girl I used to know. She was flirting with me in front of my family. I liked it. Should've asked her out. Alarm clock rings again. Reluctantly get out of bed and stumble towards the shower. \n\n\nCold water to wake me up. Hot water to contemplate life for a minute. Mind is empty. My head and my shoulders are tilted downwards. Hairline receding. I shampoo and brush my teeth. Drop the bar of soap. I'll pick it up later.\n\n\nGet dressed in clothes I don't like. Tie feels like a noose. Maybe my neck is too fat? No time for coffee. Shouldn't have snoozed. Need to hurry. Walk briskly to car. Couldn't park in my spot because of asshole neighbour. It's cold. Hope it will start. Check engine light is blinking. Good. \n\n\nTraffic. Nothing but commercials on the radio. The voices never match my mood. Buy a coffee at a drive through. More traffic moving at a crawl. Cute girl in car next to me. Doesn't notice me. Doesn't use turn signal. Fuck her. Arrive at office. No parking space.\n\n\nForce myself into elevator. Like sardines in a can. Smells bad. Fucking John. Think he's given up. My floor. Greet Shirley. She says hi without looking up. Could've worn a clown suit.\n\n My cubicle. One photo. A tropical island. I turn on screens and my computer. Can still fucking smell John. \n\n\nData entry. Excel sheets. Copy/paste. Work? My mind is still empty. Get coffee. People talk about television. Candy for lunch. Copying. Pasting. No interaction.\n\nMind wanders to a tropical island I will never see. Think I'll have McDonald's for dinner. Why worry about appearances when no one looks at you or sees you?\n\nWork is a repetitive cycle of regurgitating information. Five days a week. In the evenings and in the weekend I play videogames I suck at and I look at copy pasted humour without laughing. \n\nLife. \n\n\n\n" ]	5
	[WP]You're a Time Traveler. But your only interest is in solving the most insignificant mysteries in history.	[ "There it was again, that slight humming noise. The man in the coat paused, tilting his head slightly in an effort to better hear it. Was it coming from the bed?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDefinitely. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt sounded like a JustRight Mech mattress, you know, the one with all the miniature servos for \"That perfect sleep for the ever moving®\". But they wouldn't be invented for another 27 years at least, memory foam does the trick well enough, and metal endoskeletons aren't yet widespread, so a mattress that supports a heavier frame isn't needed yet.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe man lifted the edge of the mattress, and the humming became a whir.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Oh, a battery powered train. Must have wandered under the bed.\"", "I've been stuck in this time for months, now. Not because I can't go back to my own time, of course. It's just that I have some unfinished business.\n\nI've gone through it many times over, testing it thousands of times. Asking questions from observers, interviewing them. They've all had varying opinions on reality. It's a burden, these people. They all have their own special view of the world. It's all so chaotic. Though I can't argue, it's beautiful that way. \n\nBack to the point, I'm here because of a phenomenon I've heard of and researched about in old books and on old websites like Wikipedia or Twitter. I've gone through them dozens of times and I've understood nothing more from coming here. Still, people have different views on it. My problem is, I can't see it any other way. I keep seeing it in how I believe it is, and that's probably why it took me so long. I wasn't open-minded enough.\n\nSo, for months, I've toyed with machines to figure out the answer, and here it is; I can proudly conclude that the dress is truly a mixture of black and blue, NOT white and gold." ]	2
	[WP] "I wish I always had 3 wishes"	[ "\n\t“I am Abann Jinn, Genie of the Binfasji Lamp.” I said, not even looking at the mortal before me. “I will grant you three wishes!” \n\tI opened my eyes, brushing a stray lock of raven hair back under my heavy turban. That’s when the smell hit me, terrible, like I had been summoned into a dumpster. Infact, I wouldn’t be surprised if this cramped room WAS a dumpster. It was full of garbage, clothing, and various miscellaneous items. The only part of the floor that could be seen was a wide irreparably stained path of carpet, cutting through the mess. \n\t“Wh-what? The lamp was actually real?” a voice squeaked from somewhere below me. \n\tI gazed down to find the voice’s owner. A man, greasy and rotund, black hair slicked down heavily against his scalp and neck. Beady brown eyes wide, looking up at me. He was a disgusting creature, clothes that could match the carpets stains. The weirdest part, though, was the contraption he sat in. Two large metal wheels were attached to a seat large enough to hold him. I’d seen my fair share of gluttons and bastards, but this man was more disgusting than any I had met. \n\t“Of course the lamp was real, fool… I mean, Master.” I said, barely getting out the correction. “Now, what could your first wish be? I could clean up this mess with the snap of a finger.” I said, waving gloved hand over the mounds of garbage. My nose reflexively screwed up at the sight of it.\n\t“Well… I don’t know, let me think…” The man said, running a hand over his fattened stomach. He must be rich, only the rich ever found themselves this full. “I’m guessing I can’t bring the dead back, not that anyone would be worth it… hmm… I’ve got it!” \n\tSomething flashed in his eyes: mischievousness. I knew this look, a look of a master who thought he could outsmart me. Abann Jinn could never be outsmarted.\n\t“I wish I always had three wishes.” \n\t“Really?” I stared at him , a look crossed my face that I used often. A look reserved for the most obnoxious requests. “Fine.” \n\tMy own look of mischievousness filled my eyes, looking down on the creature in the metal chair with pity. His eyes were lost. No longer did I gaze into black-brown eyes, now I saw a cloudy set of pupils looking through me. To him, he was reliving my arrival, forever. Three wishes he shall have, because he will have never made his first. \n\tNo one outsmarts Abann Jinn. \n (edit: sorry for the copy box, I copied it out of my google drive after writing it.)", "\"I am the Genie of the Lamp!\"\n\nGenies always grant wishes in threes. It's common knowledge, really. \n\n\"I will grant you any three wishes your heart desires,\" the genie smirks, the kind of smile that makes you feel like he's rooting around in your brain.\n\nYou find a lamp, you rub the lamp, and bam! Genie. Three wishes. The whole deal.\n\n\"Awesome, I wish I always had three wishes,\" I said. It's in the bag, anything I desire, forever.\n\nOf course there's always the one smartass that thinks he can make some kind of logic play and walk away with infinite wishes, but that's not how it works. Genies are spiteful.\n\n\"I shall make it so,\" the genie replies, his voice booming across the open desert. It reverberates through space with a subtle power, shifting something ever so slightly.\n\nI am just such a smartass.\n\n\"I am the Genie of the Lamp!\"" ]	2
	[WP] An successful silicon valley engineer struggles with being happy and against all odds, falls in love.	[ "Great, another LinkedIn request from a recruiter. Randall ignored the notification coming from his Macbook, and continued coding his branch. He already had all the RSUs, salary, and perks he could have dreamed of. Plus he was already comfortable--he wouldn't want to join a startup. He knew that was a gamble, and he was on track for his goal. By his estimates, he could cash out after vesting in three years. Then he could have it; his very own island.\n\nAs he pushed his code up to get reviewed his peers, he stood up from his desk in the open floor plan. It was only four pm, and he already finished his tasks for this sprint. When he first started at Hooli, he would hit the arcade or maybe the coffee bar for some free snacks. After a few years, he just lost interest in them. Instead, he began to pack up his things while his peers continued to code their respective features. It wasn't that he was better or faster, just that he chose not to play ping-pong earlier that day.\n\n\"Randall,\" his development manager called him over to his desk. He was a veteran engineer, having worked at some of the best dot com's through the ages. Not only did he know how to code, but he knew how to run a team. That's why Randall liked him. \"Can you come here for a sec?\"\n\n\"What's up, Bob?\" Randall held his messenger bag, checking his watch for the next shuttle to the CalTrain.\n\n\"I hate to do this to you, but there's a new Product Manager for Hooli-for-Work.\" Bob gave Randall a second to cool down. Everyone knew that booking meetings right before the end of day was a fate worse than death by a thousand strikes. Bob continued, \"Since you're interested in moving up to an Architect role, can you please give her a quick overview today?\" \n\nBob anticipated Randall like miss Cleo at three am, \"The product review is tomorrow, and David just wants her to be prepped for contributing. Shouldn't take more than thirty minutes.\"\n\nDavid was the Director of Product Management at Hooli-for-Work. He studied at Stanford, did graduate studies at Yale, and worked as a consultant for 15 years before here. Randall respected David, and was even intimidated by his intelligence. If it was anyone else, Randall would have taken that shuttle at 4:30p. Bob forwarded the meeting to Randall, and his phone buzzed with its reception. Looks like he needs to bike to the other side of campus to get to the meeting room.\n\nRandall used the bike ride to refresh himself. Coming from Kansas City, he had become enchanted with Silicon Valley. He wanted more than anything to live and work here. Once he got here, he felt incredibly lucky. Even though he attended Kansas University, he had the privilege of working with many that came from Ivy Leagues. However, after living here for a few years, the cost of living and hitting a salary plateau kind of jaded him into this funk. What the hell do I do now?\n\nAs he walked into the meeting room, Randall was looking down from staring at his phone while he walked. He noticed some red-nail-polished toes sticking out of some heels. The contrast of the pale feet on the black straps took Randall off guard. Randall looked up as his gaze met that of a smaller blond woman with mid-back length hair. The starry gaze in her eyes was something Randall recognized--she must be right out of college. Her brown eyes stared at Randall as she shot her arm out.\n\n\"Randall? I'm Lucy, the new product manager for HFW.\" She smiled, and Randall's breath was sucked from his lungs. For some reason he couldn't breathe.\n\n\"Nice to meet you.\" He managed a smile even though he was still sucking in air.\n\nIt was the most fun Randall had had in his recent memory. She was smart--she asked all the questions she should have, and made sure to understand what Randall presented. He also really enjoyed her sense of humor. Even though she made herself up like an investment banker, some of her jokes even made Randall blush. Even though the meeting was scheduled to last 30 minutes, they kept talking for an hour.\n\n\"Oh! We're out of time! I'm so sorry for keeping you so late.\" Lucy checked her watch, and started to pack up. Randall's heart fell through his stomach. He felt his mind racing, he needed to do something. I'm an engineer, and this is a production issue! I need to solve this bug right now.\n\nRandall came up with a great idea. He suggested, \"I think you should check out our product roadmap so you're familiar with what's coming down the pipeline.\"\n\nLucy stopped packing her stuff and looked up. Her bright-eyed-bushy-tailed look returned. Randall knew she was excited to do cool things--a common trait in Silicon Valley. \"That's a great idea!\" \n\n\"Want to go over it together before the product review? Say over coffee in the cafeteria?\" Randall knew it was low risk. \n\n\"Perfect, thanks!\" Lucy continued packing.\n\n\"Great! I'll throw something on your calendar.\" Randall pulled out his laptop. He knew he was about to embark on a whole new adventure in Silicon Valley. He smiled--he hadn't felt this excited in a long time. It felt good.", "A salty breeze filled his lungs. Going to the beach was not Mike's idea originally, but he enjoyed the sensation the only way he knew how; That the lungs being filled with a salty breeze were, much like the idea itself in his mind, his and his alone. \n\nThe compulsive exercise possessed him. \"You should try the caramel latte at Da Vinci's,\" a coworker would tell him. \n\n\"I enjoyed the caramel latte at Da Vinci's,\" Mike would respond the next day. The idea to go there was secretly his own, he told himself. The caramel was sweeter and the coffee burnt his tongue less because it was his. No one else's.\n\nAnother coworker approached him yesterday. \"Join us for the new Star Wars movie man, I'm bringing some college buddies.\"\n\n\"No thanks, already saw it.\" Mike then booked tickets to see the movie as soon as he could, so that he would have an opinion on it. To see a Star Wars movie was his idea after all, and his alone. The movie started playing five minutes ago, but he was not at the theater. He was walking on the beach.\n\nA word hung over his early 20's. Alone. So to not make it a problem, he possessed the cubicle that was his own, coded programs of his own design (to be incorporated into another's project, but that was beside the point), and owned the company's hardware and furniture that were supplied for his work space. \n\nThey were his and his alone. He could not be there otherwise. The exercise possessed him. So it was a wonder why coworkers were suddenly getting friendly with him, Mike thought to himself as he paced down the sand.\n\nHe paused. The ocean echoed over the sand he stood on, waves rippling toward Mike. It seemed to him that each one spread out to reach his new sandals, as if to say those are mine, or let me see them. But the waves couldn't because he kept his distance. \n\n\"You're the best in the company Mike,\" a memory from last week said. \"But you need to be more personable with your division if you're going to lead projects one day.\"\n\nHe knew. And he wanted to. They would be his projects. But how could he work with anyone else if they weren't going to be his and his alone?\n\nAnd what if that's why he was getting talked to more? What if it was politics? Brown nosers? Damned lesser---\n\nLet me see them.\n\nMike calmed down after remembering where he was. The salt or the spasm stung his eyes. He didn't know which. So he breathed deeply once more. The salty breeze filled his lungs again.\n\nThis was new. It was one thing to live in California, and another to live near a beach to never have gone to one before.\n\n\"You doing ok, Mike?\"\n\n\"I am,\" he responded to the new girl as he was heading out of the office an hour ago. He confirmed that he was Mike. That was all.\n\nShe smiled, \"Good to hear. I'll catch you tomorrow then!\"\n\nTwo things stuck to him. One, that she was about a head shorter than him. Two, that the car she walked towards had a \"surfs up\" sticker on the rear. He never thought about checking out the beach before. Nor did he think about the new-girl-rumors going around the company a week earlier and her prodigy status. \n\nBut he walked the beach and felt the ocean breeze for the first time in his life. Then he did think about the new girl, and the idea that came from her which became his, that inspired another idea. An idea unlike any other he ever owned.\n\nIt would become the most important idea he ever owned.\n\n\n\n" ]	2

Subsets and Splits

No community queries yet

The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.