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] You are in charge of all routing and scheduling for the Google Street View Vans, and today you decide to start using your knowledge for profit.	[ "\"that should just about do it\" I thought to myself as i finished messing with the routes for the street cars, it was easy, after all, i'm the one in charge of them, every single Google Street View Car, and earlier today, I had a plan.\n\nMoney makes the world go 'round, so of course, everyone wants more, so we work hard for more, but I lucked out, watching over the paths for the cars day in and day out helped me notice how horribly inefficient the paths they took were, and since google had to pay for everything, all that money was wasted on gas for about 250 cars, paid lunch, and wages, for 250 drivers, and made my job harder to plan it all out.\n\nI'm glad all the people above me are either too old to use email, or too young to understand what i'm doing, which made it even easier, you see, the drivers are given a budget, to spend on gas, and food while they take their breaks, well, by making the paths they take much more efficient, i cut down on time spent driving by almost 55%, which means that i can secretly pocket all that extra money that would be spent on gas, and drivers, it's not even a drop in the bucket for the big wigs running the place, but it's everything to me, it might be immoral, but what can ya say to a man who's paying his dying sons hospital bills." ]	1
	[WP] The aliens came down on earth, they want us to send our champion "John Wick" to battle, the UN is confused and doesn't know what do to	[ "\n“Send us the one you call John Wick”\n\n“Mr. Alien sir, we do not know what you are talking about” replied one of the delegates of the UN via interface. \n\n“SEND US YOUR CHAMPION! JOHN...Wick”\n\nThe American delegate tries to reassure the giant slobbering space aliens, the Cthulhus, that John Wick is only a movie that they must have picked it up on an Earth channel. Tired of repeating themselves, the Cthulhus broadcast their message worldwide; “if the one called John Wick does not show himself at Yellowstone in the next 24 hours, Earth will be destroyed.”\n\nIn a house on Hollywood Hills, Keanu Reeves looks on at the looping broadcast. He slowly gets up from his chair and strolls down the stairs to his basement. Keanu walks to the center of the floor of his basement and kneels down. The day he has prepared for his whole life has finally come.\nVoice Activation: “The One … John Wick”\n\nThe marble tile rises from the floor and parts revealing a decorated chest. A golden glow reflects off the stoic face of Keanu Reeves from the opened chest. On a shrine in the chest is a balanced yellow pencil with the initials JW on its side. The man with the alias of Keanu Reeves smiles a secret smile and plucks the nestled pencil from its home and into his pocket. Getting into his 1969 Ford Mustang he drives off into the starry night. He has 20 hours left.\n\nUpon reaching the hovering spacecraft over Yellowstone he steps out and is beamed aboard. \n\n“Hello John” said the leader of the Cthulhus.\n\n“Zanthus, it’s been a long time” replied John.\n\n“It has indeed John. It is time for the great cosmic cleanse. Only the strongest planets can survive.” \n\n“When do we start?”\n\n“Now!” Zanthus pressed a button on the ship that beamed John Wick off the ship, the last thing John heard before he was beamed was the high pitch cackling that is synonymous with the Cthulhu race. \n\nJohn appeared 10 feet above the sandy arena before landing hard. A thundering roar from the audience surrounded him. He got up slowly, brushed the sand off his suit jacket and looked around him. The sky was a deep purple with black nimbus looking clouds. The crowd was an amalgamation of blobs, tentacles, and eyes. The arena was divided into eight sides, on the other seven were his opposition, the most harrowing mutantos giants from the cosmos, all here to save their race from extinction. Weapons so lethal and complex that it would take Earth millions of years to catch up with the technology. John simply walked to the center of the arena and unsheathed his weapon of choice; a 2b yellow pencil with a pink eraser on top. He stood patiently and waited as the seven of the most fiercest fighters of all the galaxy charged him down. The audience grew with excitement, the noise was deafening. The charge of the space creatures enveloped them all in a sand storm. The crowd went silent. Who would emerge victorious? \n\nWhen the dust settled, it was John Wick who sat on the pile of dismembered aliens. Zanthos beamed down, exuberant, and announced:\n“And STILL the Undisputed Champion of Earth and the NEW champ of the Milky Way Galaxy - JOHHHHNNNN WIIIICCKK. John is there anything you’d like to say to your adoring fans?”\n\nCovered in a blend of bright fluorescent blood, sullen faced, holding the nub of his used pencil, he looks indifferently at Zanthos.\n\n“Dinner reservation for eight”\n\n\n(Apologies in advance for spelling and grammar, I’m dyslexic and I only read over this once)\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] God is powered by irony, which is why the universe is so confusing, the devout never get the afterlife they want, and only atheists go to Heaven. Many great scientists in Heaven are now trying to convince God to find other, more sensible energy sources.	[ "\"Don't ya think?\"\n\nI sighed and tapped God on the shoulder, drawing his attention away from his Zune and bracing myself for what came next as He turned to face me.\n\n\"Yeah I really do think.\"\n\nI put on my best try-not-to-cringe face and nodded sagely. \"You are indeed wise. The council is ready to make its recommendations to you, my Lord.\" \n\n\"Excellent!\" He smiled and strode confidently into the hallway, leaving feint traces of Alanis behind Him. I hurried to catch up and closed the door behind Him as we entered the council room.\n\nThe greatest (dead, atheist) minds of humanity were already seated, save one. A grey-haired man stood at the easel, ready to begin what was possibly the most important presentation of his afterlife. \n\nThat man's name? Albert Einstein. \n\nAfter everybody was finished clapping, God summoned his throne and sat, relaxed, one earbud still firmly in his ear. He nodded at Einstein to get going.\n\n\"Since the creation of Heaven, in Your wisdom, the systems here have been powered by......irony.\"\n\n\"Yeah! Isn't it great?\" God interjected. \"Endless supply of irony from those humans, you know. If we're running low on power I just find a wedding and throw a little rain shower on it. BOOM! Instant energy!\"\n\nEinstein's try-not-to-cringe face wasn't as convincing as mine. \"Yes, while that system has somehow continued to work for thousands of years, we're facing serious energy shortages in Heaven and we need an alternative solution. After all, if the power goes out here, all life on Earth is snuffed out as well.\"\n\nThis thought seemed to sober God up for a moment. He nodded thoughtfully. \"Without the humans, there would be no irony to power Heaven! This is unacceptable. What have you come up with?\"\n\nEinstein turned back to his easel. \"The most obvious solution here is water-powered energy. Earth has plenty of it, you can make it rain whenever you want, and it doesn't pollute.\" Einstein looked as if the matter had been settled.\n\n\"Nah, next idea.\"\n\nA murmur went up from the table. Nobody really expected God to refuse the hydro-electric services. The plan was perfect. A couple more ideas were bandied about. \"Wind-powered generators.\" \"Solar power!\" (It IS always sunny in Heaven) \"Giant hamsters on huge wheels.\"\n\nAt the last suggestion, God perked up until He thought about the size of those hamster droppings. \"No, no, no. This is all mundane. Expected. Boring. You guys just don't GET IT. If this is all you NON-BELIEVERS can come up with, maybe you don't deserve to live after all.\"\n\nHe was halfway out the door when I whispered the words that made Him stop in His tracks. \n\n\"Yeah I really do think.\"\n\nHe turned to me, curiosity in His eyes. \"What is your suggestion, Elvis?\"\n\n\"Well it seems pretty obvious to me. The curiosity of humans led to the discovery of nuclear fission, and the humans predictable desire to weaponize that power led to the death of thousands of their kind. What is more ironic than using the destructive potential of nuclear power to save the very race that would use it to kill themselves?\"\n\nA smile spread on God's face, bright and beaming. \"Like winning the lottery, and dying the next day! This is a brilliant idea! I shall make you my right-hand man, Elvis! All the spoils of my Kingdom await you!\"\n\n\"No thanks, just because I'm living up here in Heaven with you doesn't mean I believe you're real. I appreciate the offer, though.\"\n\nHe nodded understandingly. \"Isn't it ironic?\"" ]	1
	[WP] Your job is simple: Repair any damage the clothing store's mannequins have suffered, put them in whatever clothes need to be advertised, put them back on display, try to ignore their flirting, and make sure they don't mutate into horrid monstrosities. Oh, and clean them every so often.	[ "This was going to be fun, I remember thinking that just a few hours earlier. I press myself against the wall. teeth gritted tightly, sweat running down my neck and a hatchet held tightly in my hands. It would a great way to spend the summer and earn money for college. Working at an esteemed clothing store in a nearby mall. I thought it was absolutely perfect! I thought the stars had lined up perfectly for me. Awesome pay, for a high school girl at least. Great place to learn about fashion and clothes design before going to college next year. And it the job didn’t seem so bad, just tend to the mannequins the boss said. Repair their clothes. Dress them up. Just take care of them at night, that was what the son of bitch had told me. Well, he forgot one itty, bitty, tiny, miniscule, unimportant detail that I really didn’t need to know.\n\nThe mannequins are actually double as prisons for demons.\n\nA REALLY small, unimportant detail that I really didn’t know right? Why would I, the mannequins caretaker need to know a detail like that? Pft, demons what’s the big deal about them? They’re just giant, horned red men eh? Well, let me tell you this. It would’ve been really nice to know that when the mannequins started talking to me and morphing into one hundred armed demonic abominations!!! It would have been REALLY NICE!!!!! \n\nAs on que the mannequin before me sprouts arms number a hundred and one. I really don’t know why he needed another floppy, pitch black arm. They’re already coming out of his face, his chest, his legs, his arms; pretty much everywhere really. The once handsome, almost hot looking, mannequin dressed in a black red flannel and clean jeans is now a wreck. Shadowy black hands of spill out of cracks all over the mannequin making it looks like something that’s crawled out of my nightmares. Step by slow step, it makes its way toward me. Each step causing the store to tremble. Lights sway. Tables jump. It was as if the model weighed about million and a half pounds. I brandish the the hatchet in front of me, hoping to scare it a bit. But why would a hundred and one armed- millenia old demon that shakes the world with every step be afraid of a midget of a high schooler with a hatchet? \n\n“\\~It looks like you’re at the end of the line Caro\\~.” The other talking mannequin, woman shaped and wearing a red one piece swimsuit, cheerfully calls out to me from the shelves above. “Hecano, the thousand armed giant has never been the gentle type. A true brute all the way to the heart. Well, if he even has one.” She giggles happily. “The strength to tear down the heavens, that is his sole virtue and the only path he knows how to take. So I’d advise against standing in his way Caroline. He’s never been particularly kind to those who oppose him, especially maidens. \\~Oh, the things he’ll do you.\\~” She whispers excitedly.\n\n“That’s a great idea Lilith.” I reply with a mouth full of sarcasm to the demon of lust. “But it seems to me that every time I do so, he just puts me back in his path anyway.” I have tried running. Trust me, if you had a mannequin flirting with you for the past hour you’d run away too. But everytime I try a black shadowy hand reaches out from behind me and I’m back here. I did get far enough to pick up an ax from the nearby woods, but no matter how far I get I always get dragged back here. It’s not just space that’s being affected, it’s time as well. The time always resets to the moment I first ran away so I can’t stall him out. I am so fucked.\n\n“Oh just call me Lily Caro! It’s such a cuter name in this day and age.” She sits down on the edge of the shelf. She crosses her legs, places her head against her left hand, and stares down at me with cold, white, smiling mannequin eyes. If I had any shits left to give I would’ve screamed. “You have three options.” She says holding up her hand, three fingers raised.\n\n“One.” She lowers the first finger. “You can make a pact with me and I will save you from this brute’s wrath. Of course, I have some demands of myself.”\n\n“I pledge.” I say raising my right hand up high in a vow. “I will bring you all the water you want to satisfy you. That should help with your thirst.\n\nShe laughs delightedly. “Aww thank you! But I’m afraid to tell you that water won't be able to quench our desires. We’ve been trapped for ages Caro. It’s been age since we set foot on this world, and all this time we’ve been trapped right here.” She point to a stone set in the middle of the mannequin. “So you know what’s it’s like being trapped in a stone like this? Well you want things Car, things more satisfying and filling than a bit of water. That’s why the sorcerer moved us to this store, he thought that the stimulation of being in contact with the outside world would be enough to calm us down. But let me tell you something, we’re demon Caroline. Demons, we always want more.” She lowers your other two fingers. “Now your two other options. Satisfy Hecano and whatever he wants. And lastly, stand before him and be destroyed. Though, I’d prefer you didn’t choose that option. I promise, I’ll really try to be gentle with you.”\n\nI’d prefer not to as well. I’m not interested in being Caroline pancake, but more importantly I have a life to live. Things aren’t exactly great now, but a bright future is just there over the horizon and I will see it. So, two option; do I deal with the thousand armed giant or the succubus? The hundred and one armed handed mannequin or the horny one above me?\n\n“Hecano. What do you want?”\n\nLilith makes a pouting sound above me. But Hecano stops, he stand up tall and his face splits revealing a dark void between the cracks. Suddenly a strange sounding noise emits from the crack. Like a hundred people chanting in a foreign language.", "Its not the hours, its not the pay. Its the goddamned dancing.\n\nThere was a movie made like this a decade ago or something like that. The store comes alive after the mall closes and everyone goes and just does what ever they want. as long as they are back by 530 or six whatever, no one is the wiser. Then some guy stays over or one of the high fashion models falls in love with a worker and they have some crazy escapade. Its dumb, but it explains part of my problem with this job. Look, I know this isn't the 80's and the story was dumb because there is always someone still at the mall after it closes, security guards, loaders and cleaners. People like me setting up new displays or cleaning the current ones. \n\nI've seen Day of the dead, The Romero movie. I don't find malls creepy or any of that shit. I just can't stand the dancing.\n\nEvery night, or damn near it. The mannequins are somewhere else when I go to look for them, That same stupid song is playing and they all have different arm and leg attachments, not to mention different clothes on. I hate that. \n\nIts not just me either. There was that kpop song, the one with the happy girls in a clothing store. That's exactly the problem. That, the entire thing, that is a problem. I can deal with people moving and touching the displays while the store is open, I don't mind putting the new collections on and moving them around the store. I really don't mind any of that part of the job. \n\nI just cannot stand having them run away after I set them up. I do the same part of the job twenty times a week. They change their clothes, they move around the store, they don't care that this or that is part of the new or an older collection. Its all mixed up ten minutes after I leave the room to deal with another window display. \n\nAnd then, If that wasn't bad enough. Cleaning up after a dozen three year olds who love tossing stuff around. If that wasn't bad enough, there is the changing, the growth. \n\nOne in five, One. In. Five. You see the incident board? Just this year alone there have been 28 incidents. Its only fucking April. \n\n[Tape break]\n\nSorry, sorry, Yes I am calm now. \n\nIts only April and there have been twenty eight incidents. That's up from last year, but one in five days that there has been an incident of growth. Oh right, I'm sorry, \"Abnormal generation of mass\" say it nicely whatever. They tear each other apart, they break tables, they throw things. twenty five thousand in damages already. What the hell kind of business is this that they just let that happen?\n\n[Tape break]\n\nReally, Its not the work. It's just the whole growth thing. When they are cute, its cute, they can't seem to talk but its like toddlers, throwing things, breaking things ripping their own clothes. Hurting each other. Even to some extent that is ok. Just like working with kids. Giant misshapen kids. Who can take your arm off. \n\nBut again its not that so much as the dancing. \n\nAt first I thought it was cute, they do their thing they get their movement in and then I put them back in the windows where they should be and they wait till the next night to dance again. \n\nBut then. Then you realize that its all in preparation of something. It's not just dancing. Its testing out their limbs, its getting to understand movement. Its getting ready to break out. \n\nRemember that time when I brought those three mannequins back from the parking lot? Yeah, they were trying to escape. Since the sun had already come up, they couldn't move very well, but they were definitely running. They were a main set of dancers too. Got the growth the next night as well. \n\nIt's the dancing. Its how you know that they are planning something. \n\n\nLook, I know it sounds, well. What it sounds like, but The dancing is up, the Growth is up, the breaks and damage is up. They are plotting something and \n\n[Tape break]\n\nYeah. Thats why I have to resign. I reported this many times and each time it comes to nothing.\n\n[This time it was only three, but next time it might be more.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7mPqycQ0tQ)\n", "Mannequins aren’t creepy. I don’t care what anyone says. \n\nYou’ve got to treat them properly. Those other mannequins, the ones that make your skin creep, are being neglected. They’re resentful, like a clenched-stomach hobo, and that’s why folk feel uncomfortable ‘round them. At least, that’s my guess.\n\nI could be wrong, though. Things are different at our store, and mannequins aren’t the half of it.\n\nOld Ezekiel Langford…an odd fellow, or so you hear. He was the one started Langford’s back in ’22. Folks said he could control the weather, on account of how it never rained much around the store. It could be pouring like buckshot in downtown, and only a little gray drizzle ‘round our block. It was curious, certainly. \n\nMagic, right? Some say that’s how this old-time department store has hung on in the 21st century. Every local store got pulverized by the ‘Marts, but not us. This store hasn’t changed much since Eisenhower, and hasn’t needed to. Sure, there’s some strangeness, but at my age a little strangeness is easily overlooked if you’re employed.\n\nThe mirrors don’t always work, for instance. I’ve heard many a screech from some lady who lost sight of her reflection the changing room mirrors. The inventory swaps places now and again, and the men’s room never needs cleaning. Ha…now there’s a magic trick if I ever saw one.\n\nThe mannequins are my pride and joy. I’ve been looking after them since Nixon, and I know all their little quirks. They can be a handful, sometimes. The trick is to treat them right, and know how to keep them in line. \n\nGenerally, mannequins won’t move when you’re looking at them. Different story if you’ve got your back turned, or it’s the wee hours of the night. When the move, they don’t move fast. You could come to our store for twenty years and never see more than a twitch out of the corner of your eye.\n\nThey like to play pranks, you know. I remember the first time I found a dummy in the elevator, hand reaching for the button. Trying to spook someone, likely. A dumb joke, but harmless. \n\nThey’ve got needs of their own; needs I don’t really understand. When we opened the lingerie section, we came back on Monday morning to find all the “men” bunched around the lingerie models. We had a good laugh about it – the kind of creaky laugh that comes when folks are a little bit tickled and a little bit scared. We’ve found them frozen in fights, or standing behind the register. It’s something you get used to after a while. \n\nThey’re like echoes of people…shadows of souls inside plastic bodies. Maybe anything that looks human has a trace of soul inside them. It’s a big, itchy question – too big for an old man who likes to end the day with a six-pack of Coors and re-runs of Hawaii 5-0. I may not be learned, but at least I’m not such a damn fool as to tackle a question like that. Folks like me should just keep our head down and do the job.\n\nSome end up down in the basement. Those are the bad ones…the ones that like to scare people by inching closer while their backs turned. Sometimes a little child starts shrieking, and we know. Look for the dummy with outstretched arms and grasping hands. \n\nThat’s crossing the line. No second chances. They all go down into the basement, behind the beechwood door with that strange, red symbol. None of them come back. Sometimes, on dark nights, you can hear frost-thin screaming coming through the vents.\n\nClean them, dress them, treat them right. We never feed the mannequins. I don’t know what they eat, or even if they eat at all. But I do know we’ve never had rats in the store, and no one’s set a trap in living memory. I don’t like to think about that much. No rats…and sometimes I wonder about that little boy who got lost on the second floor, a half-hour before closing, and never turned up again. And the others…well, who knows? Strange things can happen when the store goes dark.\n\nSome things are different at our store, but I reckon mannequins are the same all over. Ask someone who’s worked long years in some old department store, and they’ll tell you. Sometimes dummies go missing. Sometimes they’ve swapped outfits. Sometimes they’re never seen again. \n\nNo difference. Our mannequins are livelier, that’s all. Treat ‘em decently, I say, and more likely then not they’ll leave you alone. " ]	3
	[WP] In land of magic and monsters, one creature has not been seen for thousands of years; dragons. Despite this, you’ve spent your life training to be the worlds only Dragon Knight. One day while exploring, you come across something only spoken of in children’s tales... a dragon egg.	[ "'Dragons don't reproduce. They're a bit like Phoenix's, when they die they turn to dust and from the dust only an egg will remain, this egg holds all of their memories and knowledge, until they are reborn.'\n-unknown\n\nI had been travelling all my life to make it here, to make it to this land of sand. Or more accurately I should say, Dragon dust. That's how this desert was created, it was the most popular place for dragons to be reborn, slowly the dust gathered up and became this empty landscape.\n\nNo one travels here surprisingly. I would have thought people would come here whenever they could just for the chance of possibly finding a dragon egg but I guess most gave up on them when they stopped flying in their skies.\n\nI've been wandering this desert for days looking for a structure that is supposed to be here somewhere. I know I shouldn't trust an old book of an unknown explorer but, I couldn't help myself.\n\nI exist to be a Dragon Knight.\nWhen I was found by a village so many years ago I was immediately shunned and looked down on. All because I had the mark on my back.\n\nDragon Knights are all blessed with a magical mark somewhere on their body. The mark proved your connection with a dragon, you couldn't be a Dragon Knight without one. All marks are different, but the magical energy they give off is always similar making it easy to identify.\n\nWhen I was old enough the village drove me out, while wandering in the forest I met a man. He was completely wrapped up in black so I couldn't see his features and all he did was give me an old book before seeming to disappear.\n\nI followed the logs in the book, that's all I could do and so here I am, alone in a desert looking for something that may not exist.\n\nThe sun was beginning to fall and I decided it would be best to rest until light returned but froze when I saw a shimmer in the dust. Walking to it and picking up I found it was a flute. It was beautiful, not in the fancy way of having lots of gewls but in its simplicity.\nIt was a finely polished black wood flute that seemed to, call out to me.\n\nI had never played an instrument before, but as I raised the mouth peice to my lips and blow my body seemed to know exactly what to do. A melody that could melt the coldest hearts but also shoot fear though any soul was played, by me. The ground shaking forced me to stoo playing and I stumble over trying to keep my balance. I bring my arms up, still clutching the instrument to keep dust from getting in my eyes and mouth.\n\nEventually the rumbling stops and after waiting a little while I lower my arms. I'm stunned by what is before me, the ruins of an ancient temple, one once used to contract with dragons.\n\nBefore I can take it all in I find my feet moving by themselves, bringing me through the large archway and into the temple. I try to look at my surroundings but don't have long as my legs keep moving forward.\n\n-crunch-\n\nThat's when I gain control of my body again. I look down to the floor and see the remains of a shell, of a dragon egg. Crouching down I gently pick up one of the broken peices and feel tears slip down my cheeks.\n\n\"I'm sorry...\" I whisper to the shell, afraid I was too late.\n\n\"Who's there?\" I hear a velvety, deep voice call out from in front of me. I quickly stand back up and reach for a dagger strapped to my hip. Out of the shadows a man walks towards me, he is barely taller than me but the air of strength and authority radiating from him causes me to shake slightly.\n\n\"How did you get in here?\" He asks now only a few meters away. Hesitantly I hold up the black flute in my other hand silently. He seems surprised for a second before walking closer.\n\n\"You could play it?\" I nod, tightening my grip on my dagger.\n\"What's your name mortal?\"\n\n\"Mortal?\" I ask quietly.\n\n\"Yes, now what is your name,\" he orders growing impatient.\n\n\"Ray,\" I reply hesitantly.\n\n\"Tch, your real name brat,\" he huffs.\n\n\"Real name?\" In my confusion I start to drop my guard.\n\n\"... You don't know do you?\" He gets closer, \"Your back, you have my mark don't you?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry I don't...\" I begin but he just holds his hand up to stop me.\n\n\"That,\" he points to the flute, \"That, is my instrument. And those,\" he walks around me and places a hand on my back, \"those wings imprinted on your back are MY mark, knight.\" He stand in front of me again. \"What happened while I slept?\"\n\nAs he spoke things fell into place. This man in front of me, he was my Dragon, I was to be his knight.\n\"So much...\" I sigh looking to the ground. I hear him growl, he was sharp, fast to understand.\n\n\"So you don't know your real name?\" He asks again and I shake my head.\n\n\"I was found alone at a young age.\" I hear him sigh, something niggles at the back of my mind. \"You're human, how?\" I ask looking up, his steel eyes bore into mine.\n\n\"Magic, didn't think people would react well if a dragon tried to have a conversation with them,\" he states plainly.\n\n\"That... makes sense.\"\n\nThere's a silence that hangs between us as we process all the information given to us. Suddenly he grabs the wrist of my hand that used to be on my dagger and drags me towards the entrance of the temple.\n\n\"Where are we going?\" I panic a little.\n\n\"This place is stuffy and boring, filthy too. We are leaving here,\" he responds.\n\n\"Where though?\"\n\n\"Anywhere, does it really matter?\" He looks back. \"Plus every Dragon Knight has a real name, like dragons they reincarnate and my memories have gone to shit in this place, so, we're going to go find it,\" he is still pulling me along as we leave the temple to stand upon the dust again.\n\nI lift the black flute a little and peer down at it, \"my name... speaking of names, what's yours.\"\n\nLooking up from the flute I almost stumble back in shock. In front of me is a large black Dragon, it stands there, proud, and then lowers it's head to me.\nMy eyes meet a familiar steel grey.\n\n\"My name is ***, now, get on.\"", "Lorraine shifted her pack on her shoulders, trying to unhook it from her day-to-day pauldrons. She wasn't expecting to meet anything too dangerous, so she left her plate armour in her haversack, instead relying on her heavy leathers, which were much easier to travel in. Old Brenna had always told her to conserve her energy. If she were to meet a dragon and be tired from wearing plate while walking all day, she would surely perish.\n\n---\n\nEveryone in Lorraine's village of Grenwald had warned her to stay away from the travelling crone that frequented their marketplace. They said that her stories of great scaled beasts were nothing but legends. The real threat was faeries among the crops. The little glowing buggers always ruined harvests. But those stories always pulled little Lorry in, her imagination running wild with pictures of giant red, green, and blue beasts, bigger than a house. \"They could breathe fire,\" Brenna always said with a sly grin. \"One could lay waste to entire cities fifty times the size of the village. It took entire armies to take down a single one of them...or an extremely specific type of fighter trained in the old ways.\" That was when little Lorry knew she would apprentice with Brenna. That one sentence changed her entire life. That night, after her parents had gone to sleep, she had packed up everything she thought she could carry, stolen some bread from the larder, and snuck out to run after the ancient woman as she left the small village.\n\n\"If you do this, we can never return here,\" Brenna had told her, \"Are you certain this is what you wish?\"\n\nThe tiny girl, no taller than a small bastard sword, looked into the eyes of the crone with the confidence of a trained soldier about to attack a smaller force, \"Yes.\" She nodded with determination and a grunt. Brenna responded with a grunt of her own and turned to lead the child away from the safety of her home into the great wilds.\n\nSince that day, the old huntress held nothing back from the cub. Lorraine's days were full of pain, misery, but most importantly learning. Each failure was a lesson, each bruise an opportunity to get better, each scar only served to increase her resolve. She not only learned to fight, she learned to read, she learned her numbers, she learned to memorize a scene at a glance, and above all, when Brenna believed her body and mind to be ready, she learned magic. The secrets of fire, ice, thunder, illusion, she learned it all. The ancient woman was always impressed with Lorraine's ability to absorb information like a voracious serpent devouring a large animal. Before long, the apprentice had gained all she could from the master. Brenna looked upon the young woman with pride as she handed her a magical pack that held far more than its size indicated and sent her on her own way with the knowledge that she truly understood the old ways.\n\n---\n\nShaking her head with a smile, the young warrior brought her thoughts back to the present. She had found a cave where she could spend the night and stepped through the threshold with a cautious stance. Though dragons had not been seen for thousands of years, it was caverns like the one she entered that they were known to occupy. She had progressed only ten steps inside when she noticed something glinting in the dark. It was small, round-ish, and covered in what looked like silvered scale mail. Curious, she bent down over it. With a tentative hand, she stroked its surface.\n\n\"Great warrior, please, I beg of you, do not shut me out as you have been taught!\" Lorraine fell back in shock!\n\n\"WHAT MANNER OF SORCERY IS THIS?!?\"\n\n\"Please, brave huntress, listen. The spell I used to cast my voice into the future will not last much longer. I saved enough of my essence to beg anyone taught in the old ways who touched the vessel of my child to watch over her.\" The voice spoke with the utmost urgency, as if it was under attack, \"You have been taught to find and kill dragons, this I understand, but the ones you seek to destroy are those of the chromatic breed. Their kind are evil and wish for nothing but destruction and domination. Myself and my sisters of the covenant of metallic dragons all pooled our power and sealed the legions of chromatics in a separate plane at the cost of our lives, but our spell will not last forever.\" Lorraine's head spun with the implications of what she was being told through magical means. Could she believe it? \"We knew that one day in the distant future our kind would be needed to defend this plane again. Thus we all birthed a single egg each. Before you lays my child. The last platinum dragon. Treat her well, great huntress, and you will never have a more loyal and powerful companion. Find the others. Hope that you were not too late in discovering our plight. Farewell.\"\n\nWith that, the voice was gone, and Lorraine sat, mouth and eyes agape, staring at the platinum egg before her. It was too much to process. She was entirely at a loss of what to do. She was trained to kill dragons and there was a dragon egg right in front of her...but if the voice was correct, to destroy the egg was to destroy hope... As if her thoughts triggered something, the egg began to crack. Small beacons of light burst out from between the metallic scales as the cracks grew. She shuffled back slightly and hit the wall of the chamber. With a great burst of light, the top right third of the egg flew off and shattered on the stone floor, revealing a tiny, silvery, scaled creature no bigger than a small cat. As it crawled from its round prison, it yawned and stretched its limbs. All six of them, and its tail. Its wings shimmered in the low light as though magic was naturally a part of it. For all, Lorraine knew, it could be.\n\nIt blinked its large eyes and the warrior saw storms inside them, flickering with latent power struggling to burst free, but the creature was calm, even adorable, as it looked around the cave and set its sights on her. As soon as it saw the huntress, it bounded towards her, causing the woman to instinctively hold up her hands to block it, but there was no attack. Instead it began to nuzzle against her leg. \"Huh...\" she thought out loud, watching the tiny thing rub its head against her, \"Kordun's beard, I can't kill you...\" she cursed like a Dwarf as her training fought against the current reality, \"You're just a baby. And if that voice was correct...\" As though it was fated, the little dragon quickly turned toward the cave entrance and growled, its eyes lighting up with a fierce power, \"What? What's wrong?\" she stood and walked to the opening and saw what had shifted the creature's demeanour... In the sky, there was an enormous tear, like the gods had torn the very fabric of reality, and in the center of it she could see the cause of her new friend's ire. Hundreds of great beasts of many different colours began to fly out. The chromatic dragons had returned...\n\n---\n\nDAMN this was fun to write! Thanks for the prompt!\n\nMore at r/SamsStoriesSub", "Our family has always kept to the old ways. For millennia, the second born male child was trained to hunt and kill the Wyrm. Ours was a rich and venerated house, most honored among the hunters of nightmares. Giant killers, troll slayers, harpy hunters, all were respected in their own right, but we were thought highest of all.\n \nDragons are a fearsome adversary, able to wield not only immense brute strength, but also speed, magic, and cunning. Yet over generations, our family perfected our knowledge of the beasts and became experts at hunting them down and destroying them. In fact, we became too good.\n \nAs the dragon’s numbers decreased, our family’s wealth and reputation grew, but once the dragons were gone, so too was our glory. It took a very long time, centuries, to exhaust our wealth and influence. Even now our family is legend, but stories from the past do nothing to provide for the present. No dragon has been seen in these lands in more than a thousand years. Still, we keep the traditions.\n\nAt three years of age I began my training. I learned all about the monsters. The different breeds, their strengths, and their weaknesses. I trained my body and my mind, until the day I inherited my uncle’s armor. \n\nThat day was twenty years ago now. I still patrol the lands, traveling to all of the ancient nests that my ancestors once purged. I survive off my family name, which still pulls some weight in the villages and towns closest to those nests. Those most harmed by the flying death, have the longest memories. Though now it only affords me a meal and a nights sleep in a kind peasants barn. \n\nI still receive a small yearly purse from my siblings. Those not “honored” with the family legacy, who have been allowed to live the lives of their choosing. Most are farmers, some are merchants, and the amount they can spare each year is never enough. It will be even more difficult once one of them has a second son and he becomes my apprentice to train. \n\nIt is surprising that none have had more than one child. I suspect it is on purpose or that they have been hidden to avoid this burden. \n\nMy youthful exuberance has gone and now only a mature man’s sense of duty keeps me going. When visiting a nest, I used to dream of the battles that had been fought there. Of my ancestors in their prime taking on the most deadly of creatures and coming away victorious. Now, my romantic imaginings have been replaced with the realization that I will never see such things, never attain such glory for myself. With every cave I enter, my spirit is poisoned. \n\nTo fill my days and supplement my income, I help to hunt the lesser mystical beasts. I dare not hunt the larger prey, for the notable families whose hunting traditions are still needed, enforce their birthrights and guard their claims jealousy. \n\nAnd so it was, I found myself in a village near an old nest I’d inspected many times over the years. They told me they were having a problem with goblins stealing their copper, silver, and their hens. Not a glorious quest but a job is a job. \n\nI tracked the tiny devils to the nest itself. They had taken up residence in the cave. The spirit memory of the dragon’s hoard, though long since gone, still held enough power to draw those magical creatures who hungered for gold. \n\nIt is simple enough to dispatch a clutch of goblins. Draw them into an enclosed space with a few gold coins, and then a simple combustion spell to blow them back to the dark pit from whence they came. This time however, was different. One of the goblins must have stolen a fire crystal, because when I released my spell, the small bang I was expecting was amplified into an enormous explosion. I was thrown back and was spared only to the thanks of my armor and my shield amulet which had been completely drained. \n\nOnce the smoke cleared and I regained my wits, I saw that the force of the blast had caused a section of the cave wall to collapse. As with all of the old nests I had visited this cave many times over the years, and had every tunnel, crack, and fissure memorized. But, the collapsed wall opened onto a new area of the cave I had never seen before. An area that had been sealed off completely for centuries.\n\nI picked my way through the rubble and into the new area. My illumination spell having trouble penetrating the gloom. As I made my way through the new tunnel I felt the air become warmer. I began to smell a foul odor of brimstone. As I rounded a corner I caught a glint of reflected light shine off a large object on the ground. I poured more energy into my illumination spell and at once I knew what I was seeing. It looked like a boulder made of rubies, it was almost as large as me, it was a dragons egg! \n\nMy mind raced and my heart pounded. I knew immediately the ritual I had to perform to destroy this last remnant of an extinct plague. I was reviewing the materials I would need and the steps I needed to take when I stopped myself. This is it. This is the last one. This would be the only opportunity I would have to see, let alone fight a dragon. And then I knew immediately the ritual I needed to perform to hatch the beast. My families glory could be restored, my legend could be sung, all it would take would be to let this one small dragon rise. \n\nI began reviewing the materials I would need and the steps I would need to take. Of course the longer I left the dragon alive, the more destruction it caused, the greater my glory. I would need to plan, and to prepare. \n", "As a child I had been fascinated with the stories of the terrifying monsters called dragons. I imagined them as the story woman told her tale - giant, reptilian, fire breathing animals. And then I had imagined the knights who had slayed them. How could I not? They had freed our people from the terror the beasts had reigned. I pictured myself in their armor, scales from dead dragon hides, glittering in the sunlight. Swords made of steel quenched in their blood. But no Dragon Knight, or dragon had been seen in a thousand years. The knights weren’t needed - the dragons were all dead. \n\nBut I was enchanted by the thought of being a Dragon Knight. For my family had a secret. Long long ago, an ancestor of mine had been one of the last Dragon Knights. His armor and sword were kept hidden away. Polished and maintained through the generations. My father had shown me when I was a small child. I would sit on his lap as he oiled the leather between the scales - as he sharpened the sword. \n\nIt was not uncommon for boys in our village to be picked as pages to the King’s Knights. I was chosen and started my training at the age of eight. It was hard work, learning to ride horses, clean mail dirtied in battle, and do whatever my knight needed. Sir Nolan. He was my hero. Once I became his page - he became my father. I learned about women from him. About the ways of the world. I wrote to my Ma and Pa every month, but I only visited once every two years. But I never forgot about the Dragon Armor. I kept it a secret from Sir Nolan, from all the knights. For some reason the Dragon Knights were looked down upon. I didn’t understand, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut. \n\nWhen I hit 15 I was made Squire. Not all the boys chosen to be pages made it that far. I was not only talented, but I was driven. I lived every moment focused on my service and training to Nolan. We moved to the castle, were the formal education began. I learned about how the Dragon Knights had gone against the King’s orders so many centuries ago. They were to tame the dragons, not kill them. The Old King had wanted to use them as war mounts, to expand our territory. The Dragon Knights had disobeyed and had been hunted by the King’s Guard. \n\nAll had been found and executed. Or so they had thought. My ancestor must have hidden himself well. Or given his armor to his son and told him to hide it. That much I did not know, for my father, and his before did not know how the armor had been hidden away, only that we must never talk about it. At 20 I was made a Knight of the King’s Realm. Sir Sagan of Hillsdale. \n\nWith the promotion came my own suit of armor and weapons. A horse, and the expectation I go out into the world and spread our kings name. I thought I would be overwhelmed, but instead I was just dedicated. I knew the first thing I would do - Go Home. \n\nIt had been almost four years since my last visit, as the squire training was much more in depth than the page, and leaving the capitol was frowned upon. I loaded my gear and set off for home. Pa had written that mother had died last winter to an illness that had taken many of the villagers from Hillsdale. I had wanted to return home then, but I was so close to my knighthood that I could not. I had cried in my room every night for weeks, but during the day I had kept my composure. It was no good for a squire to be seen squalling like a child. \n\nAs I rode the two-day journey home I thought about how long it had really been. A few days home once every few years wasn’t much. I might as well be a stranger. The first night I camped in a pasture, horses much smaller than my own warhorse all around. I needed no fire, as it was high summer, and I simply ate bread I had packed. Once the false dawn rose I was up, already on my way to home. I kept calling it home, but really the capitol was more home than any time I had spent in Hillsdale. \n\nThat thought and others about how long it had been assailed me as I rode into town, sure that I would not be recognized. Fearing that I had been forgotten. At the edge of town was a stream where many of the towns women were gathered doing their washing. They looked up at the sound of my steeds’ hooves on the dirt road, quickly gathering their things looking at me nervously. That was until one woman, older than many of the rest shouted, “Well look who’s finally come home! Sir Sagan!” \n\nA cry went up, and before I could even make it to the town square, people were surging out of their homes, and into the streets to see me. Sure I had passed through other towns as I made my way here, but most of them didn’t give me a second look, being so close to the capitol. But here, these were my people, and they wanted to celebrate. A cow was slaughtered, and children were sent to gather wood and flowers. Many people stopped me to congratulate me, and while it was endearing, I wanted to make it home. I wanted to see Pa. Our small farm was on the far side of town and I was seriously considering just galloping the rest of the way there. \n\nBut I did not, I stayed patient and greeted those who came up to me. At one point I dismounted so that the children could see my armor. Finally I reached the house. As I tied my warhorse to the hitching pole in the side yard, I heard steps behind me and I turned. Pa. Like a small boy I threw myself at him. However I was no small boy, in fact I now was nearly a head taller than my father. \n\n“I see you got your mother’s father’s height.” He breathed out in a gust as I wrapped my arms around him. Then I stood back and really looked at him. He was nearly 45. He was balding and brown from working in the hot sun every day. He seemed tired, but not physically. \n\n“Pa. I … I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when Ma passed.” It was the only thing I could think to say to him. He just shook his head and hugged me tight. \n\n“It’s alright. Please, come in.” He turned and lead me to the house. We entered, and once again I felt like that eight-year-old little boy. Nothing had changed. Maybe the floor was a little more worn, and there were different blankets on the bed, but other than that? I could have been walking into my past. We sat and talked, but we both knew we had little time. The town was in an uproar, wanting me there to show off my skills. We talked, mostly about Ma for about an hour, until a townsman came looking for us both. We went back to town where a bonfire had been lit and even as I approached I could smell the cooking foods. My eyes misted, but I claimed it was the smoke. I was touched that they would do this for me. \n\nThe night passed in a wonderful blur of colors and laughter. I had not been allowed to enjoy myself for a long time, and I had missed this. It was late into the night before the fire burned low and I headed back to the farm with Pa. We arrived, and I started stripping off my armor. I was exhausted from the food and the social activity. Pa seemed to know that, but once I was out of my armor, he led me to the small hidden room we kept the dragon armor in. It was the same, but different than I remembered. \n\nThe ruby scales glittered in the candle light, and from my training I could tell it was well made. The sword, nearly a millennium old looked as though it had been forged only yesterday. I tested the edge with my thumb, still razor sharp. I had always known that Pa would give me the armor one day, I just… never expected that day to come. Even though I was tired, we both were as giddy as children when he suggested I try it on. Piece by piece he helped me, not that I really needed it, to get into the armor. It fit like a glove. The leather, so well-oiled after all this time, made no noise as I moved. The scales, unlike my metal armor, rasped as they moved rather than clinked. It was like it had been made for me. I grasped the hilt of the sword and it molded to my hand. \n\nI saw a flash of… Memory? I wasn’t sure.\n\nI was staring into the face of a dragon, and it talked? To me? “I will* not be the last dragon.” It roared, but then the sword was slicing through the air, and the dragon’s head was on the ground. \n\nI gasped and nearly dropped the sword. My ancestor had been the one to kill the last dragon. \n\nThere will be a part two on my sub r/LandOfMisfits within a week.", "“Bye, ma,” I said, pulling the laces tight on my boots.\n\nFrom the sink, she yelled without turning around. “Yer not off after one of them dargins, are ya?”\n\n“It’s ‘dragons’, ma.”\n\n“Well jus’ keep outta trouble, ya hear? Ain’t no daughter of mine gonna be buried at tha ol’ family plot. You go find yerself a good boy, not some flyin’ lizard.”\n\nI scowled, never quite growing used to her words, only growing used to biting my tongue. “Yes, ma.”\n\n“And be back fer dinner. Yer da’s bringin’ home a salamander, he said.”\n\nMore a sigh than spoken, I said, “I will, ma.”\n\nBefore she nagged about anything else, I shut the door. “Don’t slam—” I didn’t hear the rest of what she said, my legs carrying me as fast as they could through the overgrown grass of our garden, to the fence that kept critters from scurrying in from the forest, and over it, and kept running.\n\nEventually, I stopped to catch my breath amongst the silence. Something about the leaves and ferns and shrubs caught all the sound, the grass underfoot softening footsteps, so the forest always had an eerie quietness to it. Though, I’d also scared all the critters with my running. That didn’t last, the gentle chirps and squeaks and all that coming up to fill the air, little more than a whisper.\n\nI crept along, leaving the noise-makers undisturbed, while I checked for any trees that looked burnt. Using my nose, I only smelt the thick scent of nature, a mix of green and brown full of munched and mulched leaves. Not many carnivores around these parts, beasts like them run out over the years as the farmers brought in cockatrices and unicorns—those livestock easy prey; the bahamoots, well, they took a lot to anger and then took out a lot of anger, so nothing to worry about when it came to our beef getting dragged off by a stray chimera or griffin.\n\nStill, not much happened in these parts. Back in the day, there’d be dragons and wyrms fighting it out, trees learning to be quick growers from how many times they got burned down. Some caves had these massive claw marks, and the stone looked all lumpy and smooth, and with massive patches of soot bigger than any barn I’d seen—bigger than the church my cousin got married in.\n\nThese days, nothing more exciting than a passing fairy happened. Even then, ma and da kept me in, afraid I’d be dumb enough to run off with a fae.\n\nAt the centre of the forest, or thereabouts, I pushed aside the leafy branches to get into my den. Some year ago, lightning struck this huge tree, and it brought down another when it fell, making a sturdy pair of walls. I’d collected the biggest branches I could to cover the top and closed off the front for a triangle, enough room inside for me to really stretch out. It kept out the wind and rain, so I especially liked it in the wintry months. What made it really special, though, was the smell of it, the charred wood always nice for my nose. Just that smokey smell was enough to make me feel warm and safe, like sitting in front of the fireplace.\n\nSettled in for a good afternoon of being out the house, I looked over the drawings I’d scratched into the fallen trunks. Pocketknife in hand, I carried on where I’d left off a couple of days ago. Half a dragon bellowed her flames into the sky and parted the clouds, while I rode on her back like a knight on a unicorn—but so much cooler. I couldn’t drive off a pack of goblins by myself, or save a girl being dragged off by a banshee, but, if I had a dragon to help me, then I knew I could do anything. I wouldn’t need to find a boy and settle down like ma, or go off to the church like cousin Marie. Instead, I could go wherever I wanted, to wherever I heard they needed help, and camp under the stars with my dragon at my side.\n\nThe tree trunks had a lot of drawings like that scratched into them. But, there’d not been a dragon seen in hundreds of years. Even the books I read were all called fairy’s tales. Da had said it was naught but salamanders in old tongues and ma didn’t bother to say anything, just told me to put down my book and help her with some chore.\n\nBut, I knew, even if I never saw one in my entire life. There was definitely a reason everyone and everything looked to the sky when a sudden gust of wind blew like a howl, or when the first clap of thunder sounded. Deep inside, we all knew there was something up there, and it was scary.\n\nThe early afternoon sun burned to orange by the time I finished scratching the rest of my drawing. Spots of sunlight slipped through my makeshift roof, and specks caught in the rays danced in the still air. I could’ve spent hours just sitting there and watching, and I sometimes did. But, my thoughts remembered what ma had said, and I did quite like a bit of roasted salamander—for something tough enough to breathe fire, it got rather soft from a little cooking.\n\nMy mind so full of that, I could even smell the cooking fire. Only, I quickly realised it wasn’t my mind smelling that, but my nose, smoke burning my throat. Turning around, I stared at the charred trunk, sure it was a lot less charred a minute ago. My body knowing better than to sit around, I pushed myself back and out of my den. There, I stood up and stepped back further, watching on as the smoke leaked out through gaps in the leaves. Then, I noticed it also came from the far side of the trunk, so I walked around, while holding the neckline of my shirt up over my mouth and nose.\n\nOnce I got around, I spotted the source of all that smouldering, smoke like steam rising off of a small boulder. The ground around it scorched, and the trunk charred right next to it, I couldn’t see what else could be causing it all. But, I’d never heard of stone doing anything like this before. There wasn’t a fire underneath it, so I thought it would cool off from whatever had got it hot, but it kept going. If anything, it only got hotter the longer I looked. Around it, the patch of blackened grass and leaves grew, the charred part of the trunk starting to glow red, and I felt the intense heat on my skin when the wind turned in my direction.\n\nI should have felt afraid, yet I felt too fascinated to be scared, something incredible in front of me and there was room for nothing else in my head. The stone itself began to also glow red, so hot the air swam around it. I’d seen metal at the forge glow, but never stone. Crackling and hissing and spitting filled the air, everything nearby and green sputtering out steam, while twigs and dried leaves burst into flames. Fire crept up the side of my den.\n\nNone of that could keep my attention, though, eyes pulled back to the stone—to how the melting rock started to squirm, parts of it pushing out before going back to its egg-like shape. Second by second, these bumps grew larger, and larger, until, finally, the stone broke and a torrent of thick, black smoke poured out. So much smoke, I didn’t know how it could possibly have fitted inside the stone. Then, I realised stones shouldn’t have had anything inside them that could make smoke, being solid rock and all.\n\nThe intense heat left while the smoke blew away with the breeze. I could see better now, but what I saw only made me doubt what I saw, the stone looking like it was hollow. The nearby fire made me hesitant; it looked ready to die down, though, now the heat was gone. So, I stepped closed to the stone, one step at a time. The closer I got, the more sure I was that it was hollow, and the less sure I got about what on earth had happened.\n\nWith a last breath—horrible as it was, the air smelling like brimstone and burnt sap—I took the final step. At the stone now, I realised just how big it was, nearly up to my shoulders. Going up on my tippy toes, I peeked inside as best as I could.\n\nOnly, my peeking wasn’t needed, as what was inside stuck its head out and nearly headbutted me. I half-fell, half-stumbled backwards, barely able to stay on my feet. My heart trying to force itself out of my chest while also pounding in my ears, I couldn’t bring myself to see what I was looking at for a few seconds. Then, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but look.\n\nReddish scales covered its head, nose and mouth drawn out into a snout. It didn’t look like it had ears, but it did have two stubs at the back of its head, sticking out behind it. The eyes matched a lizards, or a cats, yellow with a black scar running top to bottom in the middle. It opened its mouth, smoke trailing out either side, and I saw sharp teeth in there—the kind for pulling meat from bone. Just when I thought I had a moment to properly think about all that, it stretched upwards, and hooked a pair of taloned feet on the edge of its shell. Then, its wings forced their way out, spreading wide in the air. Thin and leathery, rather than scaly, the sunlight shone through and showed the bones and arteries inside.\n\nI swallowed the lump in my throat, too overwhelmed to think. On instinct, I stepped forward, my hand reaching out. It turned to look at me, its gaze holding me in place. The seconds stretched impossibly long as I waited. Finally, it bowed its head. I didn’t think, just walked forwards until I could touch it. While I took that moment to hesitate, it didn’t, bringing its snout to me and sniffing my hand. Once it did that, I found my courage again and touched the side of its face. Scales—smooth and stiff and so unlike a snake’s—were what my fingers felt, hot and yet not unbearably so.\n\nThe words I’d surely been thinking deep inside slipped through my lips.\n\n“You’re a dragon.”\n\nAs if in answer, it stretched out and pointed its snout towards the sky, and from its throat let out a burst of fire so intense my eyes watered.\n\n“You’re a dragon,” I said again, this time covering my mouth as I just had to laugh." ]	5
	[WP] After returning home from military service you notice your family hasn’t aged and your town hasn’t changed at all. Your wife asks why you’re wearing a uniform.	[ "\"What's with the uniform hun, Halloween come early this year?\", Lisa asks jokingly as I come walking up the drive. Before I have a chance to answer, the twins come bounding out the front door. The twins. What the fuck. What the literal fuck. The twins look identical to a year ago. What's going on? The havnt grown at all, they are exactly as I remembered, in the pictures I had received they had clearly grown, and now here they are young again. The house as well, last April Lisa's brother had come with his crew and painted it, but it is back to it's original blue and white that it had been when we bought the place just before the twins arrived 5 years ago.\nWhat is going on? Had it all been a dream? Is this a dream? Had I been wounded? That's it, I must have been wounded, I must be dying, and this is the life flashing before my eyes that you always hear about.\n\n\"Hello..? Earth to John. Anyone home?\", Lisa's familiar voice brings be back to the very real seeming situation at hand. \"Well, I guess you signed up after all then, I'm surprised they would give you a uniform right away like this. I still cant believe that you would even want to go, to leave me here all alone with the twins. I mean it didnt exactly work out well for your father, need I remind you. Well, I guess you are set in your ways, and that is something I like about you- oh, guess what, my brother called today, said he can get us in next month to do the house, apparantly he had a job fall through, something about a termite infestation over by the bluff and...\", she went on but I wasnt following, I was busy running around in my head trying to piece things together. I jump from memory to memory of the last year I was deployed, checking them each for assuradness that it all actually happened, that I wasnt losing my mind. I know I can't explain this and if I try then she'll have me committed. I have to just act as if nothing has happened, so then what did happen? I went to meet with a requirement officer, they accepted me, and gave me a uniform to change into right then and there? What the fuck..? \"..so?\", she had asked me a question, I snapped back to reality, frantically scrolling back through the rolodex of my short term memory to see what she was asking. She wanted to know why in the world I was wearing a uniform already.\n\n\"Oh, it's nothing, just some strange symbol of commitment and mutual trust thing, I give them the clothes off my back and they give me a new beginning\", I explain, congratulating myself on being quick on my toes. \"I actually dont start for another couple months, and to be honest, I'm not even sure I want to go at all now. In the taxi on the way over I was thinking and maybe war is more just my father's thing, not so much mine..\"\n\n\"Haha! Maybe not so set in your ways after all\", she teased, \"funnily enough, I was talking to gurchin, you know, down the block and she said Rou did the same thing, seemed to be all set on joining and then pulled out at the last minute as well. She said he seemed like a new man just for considering it though. Let's hope that hasn't happened to you. I like you just the way you are\", she said, planting a quick peck on my lips. It felt like heavan, but I didnt want to let on, apparantly I was here just a few hours ago so far Lisa was concerned.\n\nI heard a scream behind me, it was Dillon, Jr was chasing him, completely naked. Inside I laughed, but I needed to try try to act normal, \"Jesus Christ, Jr, quit tormenting you brother and put your clothes back on, what do you think this is, the 60s?\"\n\nJr stopped in his tracks, smile vanished, he stared straight in my eyes and said \"Daddy, you were gone so long.\", then laughed and ran towards me. I scooped him up, and carried him over to his clothes. As I reclothed him, I continued to try and piece together what exactly had happened, or rather what was currently happening. Some sort of a simulation? Was the simulation over? Had they run me through something to see if I could go to war? Was I in training now? I stood up, looked at the house, something was off. Something. Holy shit. Yes, that's right, it was a simulation, I remembered now, and I had a mission. I was being tortured, in a simulation of torture and I was trained to leave, to escape back to something familiar only I had screwed it up again. I hadn't completely left the war out of mind and now the memories where slightly overlapping. I need to get out so I can start again. The way out is always the same, do something ordinary in a non ordinary way. I walk over towards the front door, barely noticing that Lisa was telling me something. I turn around, back facing the front door, look out over my yard, at my family, reach behind me and open the door behind my back and step into my old familiar home while still facing out.\n\nEdit: corrected autocorrect mistake " ]	1
	[WP] Every time you die, you are reincarnated, but you keep all your memories. You can’t tell anyone or else you will die permanently.	[ "Greg opened his eyes and recognized the small, tastefully decorated office. It reminded him of a psychologist’s office every time he woke up in the room. He took a deep breath and relaxed back against the leather reclining chair he sat in. After several minutes a knock sounded on the door, then the noise was followed by a man in a dark suit entering. The knock seemed more of a warning than asking permission.\n\n“Hey, primo. How’d it go this time? Ready to move on?” The suited gentleman asked. Greg shrugged.\n\n“I don’t know, ‘cuz, I can still do it better. Let me go ’round again,” Greg asked. The suited man reached into his pocket, pulled several french fries and ate them while he considered Greg’s request.\n\n“Man, I should’ve moved you on a long time ago. My job’s gone if anyone finds out I’ve been sending you back with your memories.” The doubts began to creep up on him, as they did every time. Greg knew just what to say.\n\n“Hurry up, Ezey,” Greg used the nickname he gave his cousin, Ezekial Yzaguirre, when they were younger before either of them died. Ezey passed away first, and Greg was surprised to find his cousin employed as a case-worker in the after-life. “My daughter just got pregnant. If you hurry I can be friends with my grandkid! C’mon ‘Cuz. God put you here for a reason, help the family, primo. I’m not gonna say anything to ruin it for either of us.”\n\n“Alright, fine. But this is the last chance. Next time I’m moving you on, whether you’re ready or not,” Ezey said as he munched on another handful of fries. “Deal?” He asked. Greg nodded and offered Ezekial a handshake. He closed his eyes and waited to be born again.\n\nGreg opened his eyes and recognized the small, tastefully decorated office. It reminded him of a psychologist’s office every time he woke up in the room. He took a deep breath and relaxed back against the leather reclining chair he sat in. After several minutes a knock sounded on the door, then the noise was followed by a man in a dark suit entering. The knock seemed more of a warning than asking permission.\n\n“Alright, primo, I got your paperwork here. Just need a signature.” Ezey handed Greg a clipboard and a pen. Greg refused to accept the clipboard.\n\n“What do you mean? Nothing happened! I don’t remember a thing,” he complained. Ezey shrugged.\n\n“Bad luck, primo. Stillbirth.” He pressed the clipboard into Greg’s hands.\n\n“That’s not fair, it doesn’t count!” \n\n“You’ve been around 10 ten times. If you haven’t learned that life isn’t fair yet, that’s deliberately choosing ignorance,” Ezey said. “Sign the paper, ‘cuz. We made a deal.” Greg looked down at the white sheet of paper. It was entirely blank except for a golden ‘X’ and a glittering golden line for his signature.\n\n“What happens if I don’t sign it?” \n\n“You have to go around again,” Ezey began to explain. Greg’s face lit up.\n\n“That’s what I want!” But Ezey shook his head.\n\n“You have to go around again, from the beginning. Clean wipe, start all over. All the memories you’ve kept so far will be gone. \n\n“Oh. Yeah, I don’t want that,” Greg sighed, defeated. He picked up the golden pen and signed his name with golden ink. \n\n“Don’t worry, primo. You’re gonna love the next life,” Ezey reassured his cousin.\n\n\\\\\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #227. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order. " ]	1
	[WP] The people of earth watch in confused terror as a meteor almost hits the planet, then begins ‘reversing’ back into space.	[ "It was the end. The last couple of months have been utter chaos. Riots, massive suicides, permanent drunken parties. People prayed. Some wanted to watch their last sunset and sunrise. Some wanted to drown in lust and abondance. Everyone had to face their own mortality. Some couldn’t bear to watch the clocks, others were staring at the sky. They could see it becoming larger and larger. They could feel it from within as their hearts pulsed harder and harder.\n\nIt was the end.\n\nThey all knew it was the end.\n\nSomething was strange. I mean, it has been the end for a while now and it still hadn’t finished yet. People started to whisper, unhappy about the delay. Scientists had no clue. Some were upset as such a delay was too anticlimactic and ruined their beautiful last moments.\n\nThe meteor stopped close enough to be scary, but far enough to avoid any mishaps. A strange series of high pitch noise echoed on earth. It was actually a well design sequence of sound. It repeated itself for an hour, then, the meteor actually reversed back and left.\n\nThe meteor left. It was not the end. So awkward!\n\nNobody was happy. Who can blame them? They had been irresponsible for so long and now, they had to go back to their usual way? Who’s going to take responsibility for that? So many people died for nothing, stores were robbed and many building were destroyed. The masses turned to the scientists for answer; they needed some to take the blame.\n\nA press conference was organised. The scientific community announced that the all phenomenon was premeditated and the sounds had patterns, so they knew it was a message from outer-space. The scientific community absolved themselves; how could it be their fault? Everyone saw what happened with their own eyes, if they want to be angry, they should be angry towards the meteor.\n\nThe message was analysed and decrypted. However, the meaning of the message was never released to the public. No one wanted to deal with the after-match of the announce after all.\n\n“It was just a prank, bruh.”\n\nAliens. What a bunch of bastards!" ]	1
	[WP] The monster under the bed is your only hope.	[ "I slipped silently around the couch, careful to stay out of sight. A beam of light swept over my previous hiding place. That was too close. \n\nI waited for a second longer for the intruder to pass by. I could see a vague outline of a man of average height in what appeared to be a black hoodie. He held a light in his left hand and gripped some form of blunt object in his right. A large sack hung loosely over his left shoulder. He paused at the top of the stairs and swept his light once more across the room. I ducked behind the couch and waited for the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs.\n\nAs soon as he was out of sight, I peeked over the top of my couch and glanced around. The only sources of light came from an open window above the stairs and the stranger's light from downstairs. \n\nGreat, I thought to myself he's blocking my only way out of the house. I was on the second floor of my house. The deck wasn't finished, so my only option was to hop out of a window. \n\nI considered the rooms on this floor. The closet had no windows and the bathroom window was too high and small to risk. That left my room and the two guest rooms. I made my decision and started towards my room, careful not to agitate the more noisy boards. \n\nThere was a gun in the safe under my bed. If I couldn't make it out my window, I'd at least give the thief a good fight. I crossed the length of the den quietly, but my first step into the hall was met with a loud creak of the old floor. I froze as the beam downstairs jolted up. Several tense seconds passed before the intruder shifted his focus back to whatever he was searching through.\n\nI let out a sigh of relief and continued, careful to not cause more noise. Once inside the bedroom, I locked the door and checked my window. \n\nCrap! I kicked myself. The window was nailed to the frame, a result of damage from a bad storm earlier in the year. I never got around to patching it. Plan B it is. I thought as I dove under the bed. \n\nThe safe was bolted to the floor beneath the headboard. It was small with a digital lock. I punched in the combination, but the safe wouldn't respond. The stars indicating input didn't' even show on the display. I tried again with the same result. Frustrated, I slapped the side of the safe as I swore.\n\n\"Heh. Looks like someone owes the swear jar a quarter.\" a low growl of a voice whispered in my ear. \n\nI screamed in shock and pushed myself out from under the bed.\n\nThe voice cackled maniacally as a darkness formed under the bed. It snaked its way up and around the frame until its shadowy tendrils met above the mattress. I backed myself into a corner and reached for something to protect myself with. However, in my haste, I only managed to knock everything off my desk. I was sure the commotion would draw the attention of the thief, not that it was my biggest problem right now.\n\nThe black mass on the bed began to mold and form a vaguely human outline as the still disembodied voice spoke. \"Oh come now. Surely you haven't forgotten your old friend?\"\n\nI racked my brain trying to make sense of the hideous being forming in front of me. As it started taking shape I could make out beady red eyes, yellow fangs soaked in blood, two pairs of twisting gold horns, and long claws that burned with fire. \n\n\"You aren't real!\" I shouted in a mix of horror and shock. \"I made you up as a kid! The imaginary monster on the bed is all you were!\"\n\nThe creature, finishing his transition into corporeal form, laughed again. \"Oh, but I am very real, kid. You just stopped being afraid.\"\n\n\"I've got to be dreaming. Yeah, that's it. It's just a weird nightmare. I've been under a lot of stress lately. Just went through a nasty breakup. My job isn't going so well. I'm just having a stress-induced nightmare.\" I tried to reason to myself. \n\n\"'Fraid it's worse than that. Come, let me show you something.\" the creature placed a hand on to my shoulder and grinned. The room suddenly started spinning and shifting around us. I grabbed his arm to steady myself and squeezed my eyes shut. \"You can open your eyes now.\" \n\nI cautiously opened my eyes to find myself face to face with the busted window through which the intruder had made his way in. On the ground lay pools of fresh blood seemingly trailing towards the kitchen. Memories flooded back to me.\n\nI was upstairs when I heard the crash. I had grabbed my gun and ran down the stairs. There was a man in all black crawling in through the window. I raised my gun, he rushed at me. I shot and missed, he swung and connected. Sudden realization washed over me. I followed the trail of blood, each one bringing vivid memories of each sharp blow to my body. I remembered falling at the entrance of the kitchen. I remember crawling along the floor, trying to get away. I remember turning and raising my gun again as my vision blurred. I remember the final swing of the pipe that made my world go dark.\n\nThen I remember getting up and running. Uninjured. Unaware that I had just been attacked. Oblivious to the broken shell of a corpse that I was now facing. My head was twisted far beyond what it was capable of withstanding. Blood pooled around my body. \n\n\"Wow. He sure did a number on you, didn't he?\" the creature spoke with what sounded like sadness. \n\n\"I thought you monsters lived for stuff like this?\" \n\nThe creature shook his head slowly. \"Not always. Not from our charges.\"\n\n\"Charges?\" I questioned.\n\n\"Yes. See, we don't just haunt children. No, that's not our purpose. We protect gifted children. Children with psychic potential.\"\n\nI screwed up my face in confusion. \"I'm psychic?\"\n\n\"You could have been. However, when you mentioned me your parents took you to a psychiatrist and 'fixed' you. They couldn't understand your gift. How could they? They were just human.\" the monster practically spat the last word out.\n\nI pondered this for a second before deciding that didn't seem to matter now. \"Well, I guess it's a bit late to regret that. What happens now?\"\n\nThe monster stared blankly at my corpse for a moment before slowly turning to face me. A smirk tugged at the corner of his drool-covered lips. \"That depends on you. The reaper couldn't find you at first. A unique trait held by psychics like yourself. Even untrained, you can still mask your own death. However, he knows now. You could wait around for him. It won't be long now. You'll be whisked away to some sort of afterlife, if you can even call that a life.\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow. \"What's the alternative?\"\n\n\"You could come with me. Become one of us.\"\n\n\"You want me to be a monster?\"\n\n\"I suppose in a sense. In life, you had great potential that was wasted. The story doesn't have to end here though. I can train you. Help you dive into the supernatural world and realize your potential. I could help you truly live.\" the monster held his hand out to me with a sadistic grin.\n\nI glanced back at my lifeless body, pondering the option. Then, with a smile, I took the creature's hand. The world began to spin as the surrounding shifted into something new." ]	1
	[WP] You think that you're sharing an inside joke with a random Redditor, but are shocked to find that your writing ability has deserted you. In its place; the cat that you jokingly accepted as trade arrives via overnight ground shipping. His name is Tab.	[ "I woke up this morning,got on my computer and everything was looking kind of gibberish,i did’nt react to it cause i tought i was just sleepy but when i got on reddit via my shortcut i realized i could’nt read i did’nt recognize any later and later on i realized it meant i couldn’t write either i’m panicking i’m fourteen ! I need to read what an i supposed to do!!??" ]	1
	[WP]You find a genie that will grant you one wish but when you decide to go and sleep on it you say a wish in your sleep and wake up to the consequences	[ "I awoke this morning to an empty bed. Usually my cat is sleeping next to me, but not today. I take a minute to yawn and stretch, reach for my glass of water.. Where did i put it? \n\nI look over at my bedside table. There’s no glass of water.. which is strange, i always take water to bed at night. Well, maybe i forgot.\n\nI am thirsty, though. I need water.\n\nOne more stretch, and i’m making my way to the kitchen. Maybe i left my water in the fridge? I do enjoy cold water— oh dear lord—\n\nI freeze. That is the Scariest. Goddamn. Spider. I’ve ever seen. Just sitting there in the middle of the floor, mocking me. Daring me to come closer. Did i leave the door open? How did that nightmare fuel get in the house? Do i trap it or kill it, is it venomous?\n\nBefore i decide on a course of action, she starts to move.\n\nIs it a she?... Yes, yes it is. Upon closer inspection, she’s moving slowly. Slower than spiders usually move when they’re threatened. And when i pulled out the binoculars so i could get a closer look (without actually being closer), i can clearly see hundreds of baby spiders she’s carrying around on her back. Ok, this is a wolf spider and even though it’s scary as crap, she needs to be outside. \n\nHave you ever tried to kill one of these bitches? If you step on a Mother wolf spider, she will die. The babies she’s carrying on her back will live on, and they’ll scatter in every direction. \n\nGrab the broom, sweep her into a dustpan, dump her outside. Done... Good lord, that was stimulating. I guess i’ll be skipping coffee today. \n\nI never did get that glass of water, Miss Mom Spider isn’t in my direct path anymore, so i’m free to go. \n\nI don’t see my glass of water anywhere on the counter? Maybe i did leave it in the fridge?... I’ll check real quick. I opened the refrigerator door, and a Banana Spider landed on the floor, within biting distance of my toes—\n\nOh Jesus those are poisonous, where is my spray bottle of bleach—\n\nFound it— Ok, the spider is dead. Take a deep breath, you’ll be alright. I’m still thirsty, but there’s no way in hell Im looking in the fridge again. I’ve been awake for all of fifteen minutes and i’ve seen two spiders. What if there’s two in the fridge, not one?.. Yeah, i’m not taking that chance, I’m grabbing a clean cup from the cupboard.\n\nI open the cabinet, and immediately, arachnids of every size scurried out. I’d like to share what kind, but the truth is, I think i fainted for a second when i saw the horror that lie before me. I remember opening and seeing the cabinet. I remember being light-headed. And then i remember my knees being weak, trying to regain my balance before i fell on the ground. \n\nSpiders, everywhere. I compose myself (which means breathing in and out and crying intensely), grab the spray bottle of bleach, and go to town. Some shriveled on impact. Others tried to run before the poison seeped in. Thankfully, i killed most of them. I may have peed myself in the moment.\n\nWhere are all the cups? Brandon just ran the dishwasher, they should all be clean?..\n\nI see the genie cup on the dining room table, and suddenly have a weird feeling in my gut, Did i have a drink last night and make a wish I don’t remember?... I didn’t drink last night. \n\nThe lamp though. It’s sitting in the sunshine, Tempting. It shimmers a white gold color. Not only does it shine, but it looks soft to the touch. Is the genie still in there? \n\nI rubbed the soft, white-gold velvet on the exterior of the lamp.\n\nA beautiful, blueish-gray silhouette appeared. She has long hair draped around her shoulders, and she spoke in a soft voice.\n\n“Has my service made you unhappy?”\n\n...Excuse me? Did you just say my service? ..Did I make a wish last night?”\n\n“Yes. At 4:23 AM, you clearly said, ‘I wish all plastic cups were spiders.’”\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] In a dystopian future, it has been established through laws that if you and a loved one have a baby that is unattractive or disabled, you are not meant to be together... Until a couple truly in love, surrounded by incompatible couples created by the government, decides to break the law	[ "##The Ugly Blimpton-Beluga Affair\n\nVoiceover – elderly posh British man with gravitas and a pipe-smokers’ growl. Probably served in the great war.\n\nScene 1.\n\nVoiceover: In the not too distant future, the year is 1993 and the Anglo man is no longer master of his own destiny. The Reds of the East have torn the world asunder. Bread and crumpets are nowhere to be found. Children are forced to learn bear-dancing and chopstickery. The age of jam and butter has ended. The Queen’s loyal subjects are a ship adrift, in borscht.\n\nPhotos of actual anti-communist propaganda posters from the 60’s appear as slides. Click. Next slide. Click. \n\nVoiceover: His Holiness Vladimperor Putin has decreed that no marriage shall be valid where the offspring of such purported union is ugly. Ugly begotten babies, by operation of law, divorce their would-be parents, and must immediately be shipped to the designated colony of ugliness—America. Putin’s plan was to inspire faith in his leadership through cultivating the beauty of the people, and to demoralize the Yanks in their ongoing struggle against the Marxist Wave by sending them ugly babies to care for.\n\nScene 2. INT Hospital Birthing Room. Sad, rusty equipment surrounds the bed. Moth-eaten green curtains separate the bed from other women loudly giving birth.\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga writhes on the bed, sweating. She is massively pregnant. Mr. Blimpton-Beluga is drinking and playing darts in the bar across the street.\n\nDoctor with thick Russian accent sits between the mother’s legs, holding birthing foreceps. A lit cigarette dangles from his lips.\n\nDoctor: Push!\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: AAAAAAaaaahhhhhhfgggghhhhh\n\nDoctor: No you do this wrong, PUSH!\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: EEEEeeeeeeeeeghhflllog\n\nDoctor: Try PUSHing!\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: Ooooooouuuuuuuuup\n\n(Loud popping sound. Baby crying sound.)\n\nDoctor holds up Mrs. Blimpton-Beluga’s baby to a bare, flickering lightbulb suspended from the ceiling. A nurse wipes the baby off with a dirty rag. Mrs. Blimpton-Beluga gasps like a grounded fish.\n\nDoctor carefully inspects the baby, rotating it 360 degrees under the light.\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: Quick! Fetch my husband!\n\nThe nurse nods, exits.\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: Is it—Is it a boy or a girl?\n\nDoctor: I’m sorry, Mrs. Blimpton-Beluga. It’s ugly.\n\nDoctor takes a long drag of his cigarette.\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: What? Nooo\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga appears, looking quite drunk, with his tie askew and hair afluff.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga: Izzit a lad?\n\nDoctor: It’s ugly. It’s going to America.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga: This cannot be!\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga points at his fat pregnant wife, who is not beautiful.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga: Look at ‘er! She’s beau’tiful. I’m beau’tiful. [He is not]. ‘ow could we ‘ave a no’ beau’tiful baby boy?\n\nDoctor: You did. Look, he is very very ugly. Bad nose. Bad mouth. Really quite bad all over. One of worst I have seen and I am 30 years a doctor.\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: I don’t care if he’s ugly, I want to keep him\n\nDoctor: You cannot. You know ze law. You must also be divorced.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga: No! I’ve loved that beau’tiful woman more ‘an ‘alf me life already an’ I’m no’ ‘bout go ‘bout finna out a’no new ol’ wife t’marry.\n\nMrs. Blimpton-Beluga: Do you really mean it Clampton?\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga: Aye Crissy, notin’ t’be doubteda ‘bout it no way no how.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga grabs his son from Doctor’s hands. He punches Doctor (surprised) in the face, and puts the baby in Mrs. Blimpton Beluga’s arms. Doctor reels, screaming in communist rage.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga grabs his wife’s bed and quickly pushes it out of the room.\n\nDoctor: You’ll never make it out alive! And for what? An ugly ugly baby? Police! Police!\n\nScene 3. Quick cuts, chase scene of Mr. Blimpton-Beluga pushing the hospital bed out of the hospital, disappearing into the dark, quiet streets. Police arrive at the hospital a moment later. They scatter through the neighborhood, heavy boots smacking on the pavement. Search dogs bark savagely. It begins to rain. Mr. Blimpton-Beluga puts his overcoat over Mrs. Blimpton-Beluga and Junior as they crouch underneath a tall pier.\n\nScene 4. Early morning, grey skies.\n\nMr. Blimpton-Beluga pleads with an unimpressed ship captain, who turns away. Mr. Blimpton-Beluga, desperate, rolls up his shirt sleeve to show a Royal Navy tattoo. The captain begrudgingly nods.\n\nScene 5.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Blimpton-Beluga are on the ship cabin’s bed with Junior, looking out the window across the water at England. It grows smaller and smaller. They share a loving look.\n\nFinal Camera shot of Junior, who indeed is a very ugly baby.\n\nVoiceover: That’s what they don’t understand. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.\n\nFin.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You got a parrot for cheep because it keeps repeating a word, you'd think you could handle this but the parrot is repeating a magic spell.	[ "John was interrupted from his work by his parrot, squawking the same thing over and over again. He mused about how stupid he had been to buy this damn parrot, but hey, it was cheap. He walked into his parrot's room, to shut the damn thing up, only to see the parrot looking at him, with a stick clutched in his gnarled talons, the end pointing straight at John.\n\nThe parrot squawked his word once more, and John understood what the parrot was saying.\n\n\"Avada Kedavra.\"\n\nThere was a flash of green, and then black." ]	1
	[WP] There is more to the world than meets the eye. Magic can be subtle, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.	[ "I tapped the pause button on my phone, and looked into my son Dylan's eyes, bright with wonder and un-spilled tears. \"So? What do you think?\" I prompted.\n\nDylan nodded, and rubbed his eyes. \"Okay, Dad; you were right, and so was that Tom Petty guy you mentioned,\" he commented in the sheepish tone of someone who had fairly lost a bet. \"Music is the realest magic we have.\"\n\nI smiled, and patted his shoulder. \"I'll let you off the hook this time; you don't have to pre-wash the dishes for a week like we agreed. You took that pretty well.\"\n\nDylan's face lit up. \"Oh! Uh, okay. Well, uh- then in that case, can we listen to that song again?\"\n\n\"Sure thing,\" I told him, and set up the song to play another time. In seconds, a gentle, hopeful tone filled the air, and brought tears to my eyes as well.\n\n\"Why are there so many songs about rainbows,\n\nAnd what's on the other side?\n\nRainbows are visions; they're only illusions,\n\nAnd rainbows have nothing to hide.\n\nSo we've been told, and some chose to believe it,\n\nBut I know they're wrong, wait and see:\n\nSomeday, we'll find it,\n\nThe Rainbow Connection;\n\nThe Lovers, the Dreamers, and Me...\"", "\"Welcome to the hall of Arcana,\" said a black dragonborn with a red strip starting from the top of the snout, and going to his tail, in his mid 30's, \"Here in this room, and the area behind you, you will learn to use and control the laws of nature around you though arcane arts.\"\n\nI will do my best to teach you the dangers of some of the spells you will learn and to use them effectively in this day and age. Make no mistake, just because I look young, does not mean I don't know what I am doing. I have been around far longer than any of your great, great grandparents. Such is one of the dangers of the wish spell.\n\nTo answer your next question, I have been alive since 900 pdr. No, I do not have telephatic abilities. After teaching this class for the past 100 years or so, you can always tell what questions are going to be asked on the first day.\n\nOn your desks, in front of you, you will find a spell that has saved my life, and the life of my friends on more than one occasion. The spell is called Mage Armor, and it can make the difference between life and death. My gift to all of you, may it serve you well. Are there any questions?\"\n\nEvery hand in the large class room pops up at once. People from all different walk of life, and different races. The dragonborn points to one of the students int he back of the class. A short male figure stands up, covered in black feathers and with a head and mouth that resembles a rave's head. Around their neck, a small well worn brass box with a grate off to one side and from there comes, \"a yes, Mister....\"\n\n\"ah yes, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Hides-His-Eyes, you can call me Hides if you wish.\" Said the dragonborn, \"sorry about that, please continue.\"\n\n\"uh - In your, uh am, long life, which spells did you find most useful?\" Said the black feather Kenku.\n\n\"That's a very good question, and one that is not often asked, everyone want me to teach to them to blow shit up, we will get to that don't worry, let me think for a moment.\" Hides puts his hand on his chin and thinks for a moment, \"The most useful ones where the ones that I used every day. Well it is nice to incinerate a hostile goblin camp with a fireball or disintegrate spell, I didn't find myself using that nearly as much as, prestidigitation. Being able to light fires, instantly clean yourself after a long day or battle. Keep in mind this was long before matches or lighters, especially the arc lighters everyone has now. Mending was another great one, and still is today. In fact, I used it about a month ago when I ran over some glass that was left on the road and it gave me a flat tire.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP]You can see subtitles all your life on everything	[ "Everyone’s a liar.\n\nNo, seriously. Everyone. It’s as much a reflex as breathing.\n\nThe whispers. That was what I called them as a kid. Voices, emotions, or floating shimmery text that warped like an oil slick. It was always there…a constant, dizzying counterpoint to what they called “normal life”. \n\nBy age 10, my parents had spent a fortune on psychiatrists. They gave in when they realized that I was socially well-adjusted, perceptive and empathetic. By then I’d learned what kind of child they wanted, and I replicated it perfectly, if only to make the medications stop. I’d like to say I really was a kind, good-natured little boy. But that would be another lie. \n\nTrue things. That’s how I might have described it at eight. At thirty, I prefer to think of it as psychic subtext. It isn’t telepathy, not like it’s shown in movies – a sort of real time ticker-tape record of every waking thought. I’m glad it’s not. If it was, I wouldn’t have waited this long to pull the trigger. \n\nIt’s flashes and snippets, a churning medley of cognitive white noise. To me, it’s just normal…to someone else it might feel like violent insanity. I’ve had a lifetimes experience sensing the patterns and untangling the threads. Sometimes I know people better than they know themselves.\n\nNo family. No lovers. Intimacy is hard when you know everyone’s a liar. Harder still if you know how to get what you want, whenever you want, just by listening in. Manipulation comes incredibly easy to me – a consolation prize perhaps. Love, in the normal sense, was never in the cards.\n\nI don’t know if you can call it happiness. My life has been pretty empty of “normal” human things: strong friendships, meaningful relationships, the admiration of my peers. I can see the emotions but not experience them, like a Dickensian urchin with his face pressed against a shop window. Getting emotionally invested in anyone is functionally impossible.\n\nSo much for love. Instead I’ve learned to take comfort in the certainties. Sun rise in the East, sinks in the West. Births are celebrated, deaths are mourned…and everyone’s a liar.\n\n…at least, that’s how things used to be.\n\nI noticed it last week. Fewer people were lying. Then, no people. Truth blossomed like some ghastly hematoma…and something compensated for it.\n\nI was hearing people telling the truth – hard truths – to total strangers. The strangers listen, and calmly respond. It was like a caricature of conflict-resolution. I panicked when I made the connection…dropped a bag of groceries and fled. I haven’t poked my head outside again.\n\nSure, I was frightened – but I’m no stranger to fear. That wasn’t what got me polishing this .38 like it was the last piece of heirloom silver. \n\nWhat scared me were the other words, the sounds underneath the thoughts. For the first time there were new noises. Slippery noises, clicks and popping sounds, like maggots rustling somewhere in the dark. Not mechanical, but not organic either. \n\nThere were shapes too: weird, crumpled things that hurt my eyes. They filled with a horror that came from nowhere and told me nothing, like the dim memory of a childhood nightmare. I was shaking all the way home, to scared to turn on the radio. \n\nI'm still scared now - shaking like a ten-year drunk chained in a cell a dozen miles from any liquor. I want to vomit, to scream and cry. I ended up doing all three. \n\nThose sounds mean something…that I know for sure. I’ve never heard a sound like that in life. But I could tell. Something is thinking on a different wavelength, in a different language. And somehow its bootstrapped everybody else, for reasons I don’t even want to guess. \n\nThe fatal thought occurred two hours later. My ability was always a one-way street, a tinted window into peoples’ minds. I can’t assume the same rules still apply. Before they, or it, find me, I need to put a hole in my head big enough to read through. \n\nUnless that’s what it wants you to do!\n\nSudden indecision. I pull back, blinking, feeling a sense of unreality. Then awareness, and decision. I raise the gun slowly, savoring the sense of delicious relief. For once, I know I’m making the right choice.\n\nIn 30 years of internal monologues, I’ve never once thought to myself as “you”.\n" ]	1
	[WP] IT's 2085 and you are part of a police special investigation squad. A neural bond is used to get info out of suspects, but you must live through all of their life up to the present to get the info...	[ "\"Whatever you do, Rickta, don't screw this up,\" the boss had said to me. I never saw his face. It was always masked by shadow on the screen, but his voice seemed familiar. I couldn't place it. \n\nWell, I blew it. The operation went sideways. A fuckin' old lady on her hovercart wouldn't move out the way and I crashed right into her. Knocked me right out. Now I'm lying here on this table, about to get knocked out again. Only this time a detective is going to read through my thoughts. He'll know what I won't tell him. He'll know what I won't tell anyone, and there's nothing I could do about it. \n\nThe detective lay next to me, getting the neural probes attached to his head by a hot doctor lady. Then she attached them to mine. My hands were restrained, chained to the table. Wasn't nothin' could do about it. I tried to resist anyway. A beat cop stood by the door, keeping watch just in case. He smiled with a smug smirk. He probably wanted me to escape just so I could make his day more interesting. Miserable fuck. I faded out of consciousness. \n\nWhen I woke up, only a few minutes had gone by. It was always jarring to wake up from a lifelong memory and have my old self, my real self, to get back into. I'd lived a hundred criminal lives, which I felt made me a better detective. Nurse Hannah had left the room to keep the neural interrogation confidential. \n\nI saw Rickta laying on the table, still unconscious. Officer Bradford stood beside him, smiling as he looked the suspect over. Then, oddly, he released the restraints holding Rickta down. \n\n\"He's made this a lot harder for us all, now.\" Bradford's voice was like finally remembering that word on the tip of your tongue. He pulled out his firearm and pointed it at me. My restraints were still fastened.\n\n\"I told him not to screw this up,\" Bradford said with a chuckle and fired.\n", "My young lover laughs, joy sparkling in her clear blue eyes. I feel her thin, lanky arms wrap around my bony ribs, worn out by age. She smiles into my chest, nuzzling my chin.\n\n“I love you so much,” she murmurs huskily, looking up at me with wide, sky blue eyes. “Thank you for this.”\n\nI force a smile from my wizened lips. The silver bracelet, a wedding gift to my deceased wife, clinked from her wrist as she slipped her hands up my back, curling into my wispy hair. Layla draws one finger, tracing my wrinkles.\n\n“I never would have thought I’d fall in love with an old man like you,” she whispered, breaking into giggles.\n\nI laugh too, a dry rasp that sputters from my throat. It’s a bitter one, because I know about Paolo. She’s been cheating on me, selling my gifts to spend on luxuries on her new boy toy. Or had he always been there, laughing from the shadows as this vixen had wringed me for all I had?\n\nHer giggles turn into a gasp as her wide, sky blue eyes bulge. Blood bubbles rapidly out of her mouth as I twist and wrench the knife I’ve slipped between her healthy, young, deceitful ribs. She staggers backwards, gasping and spitting curse words. I’ve torn the curtain of lies, revealing her real self.\n\nAnd then I’m awake.\n\n“Did you get it, Detective Russ?” the doctor is already halfway through my check up, midway through drawing my blood.\n\n“That’s classified information, Doc,” I say smiling, as I stretch in my young, comfortable and familiar body. “Thanks for watching over me in the meantime.”\n\n“Oh no problem,” the doctor shrugs, adjusting his glasses. “It was only for fifteen minutes.”\n\nMy smile fades as he says that.\n\nHe unstraps me from my seat. The guards by the door tense, hands subtly falling on their sidearms. I don’t resent them for doing so. I’ve seen what this process had done to my colleagues.\n\nI am old.\n\nUnbearably, undeniably old.\n\nAs the doctor runs me through a series of psych eval tests, I struggle to get the right tone, say the right words.\n\nI’ve lived seventy-four years in the body of an old man. An old man who we had arrested for killing his young lover but had claimed innocence, thus necessitating my particular talents.\n\nIt’s tough to just ‘slip’ back into the person I was before. The doctor helps with that, using a series of notes and memos I had prepared beforehand to help me remember and readjust.\n\nPhysically, I was thirty-seven years. I wasn’t terribly fit, but I was healthy enough, given my circumstances.\n\nMentally, I was closer to about a couple thousand years old.\n\nThe badge hangs from my neck on a small chain, my greatest source of pride. It made me special, different from everyone else around here. A human brain, run through by a needle was plated in gold on it.\n\nIt meant that I was part of the Relivers, a special police interrogation squad. When the police encountered cases that were scant on evidence, they came to us. Using bleeding edge neural technology, we’d literally dig through their brains for the evidence we needed.\n\nThere was a tiny drawback though, which was that we had to go through their memories sequentially. Meaning that we had to live through their entire lives up till the point of their crime before we could pull out.\n\nSometimes, we’d discover even more crimes than the ones we had been looking for, and Relivers had been known to stay for the full ride, convinced and hoping that they could find more hidden crimes.\n\nThe reward for each crime we discovered and provided evidence for was pretty good after all.\n\n“You’re cleared, Detective Russ,” the doctor says pleasantly, as he gestures for someone outside the room to come in.\n\nThe guards take the chip, a large blue plastic card from the slot next to my bed, and leave, as a nurse walks in with vanilla chocolate chip ice cream.\n\n\"Ten minutes till your next shift,\" she says sternly, before holding out my reward. \"Don't dally.\"\n\nI nod fervently, oblivious to what she said. I had done this a thousand times, I knew that I had precious little time to enjoy my treat. Even as I ravenously devour the delicious sweet treat, the guards have returned with a second blue chip in tow. \n\nMy legs are still strapped in, and as I desperately slurp the last remnants of ice cream off my fingers, the doctor firmly straps me back in. He cleans my fingers with a wet wipe, his other hand already connecting the complex network of wires leading from the machine to my head. \n\n\"Ready?\" he asks, running the last diagnostic tests. \"This is a tough one. Once you finish, we'll let you have the rest of the day off.\"\n\nA thrill ran through me, half anticipation and half fear. Relivers suffered great mental stress, and we needed breaks to recover from especially tough memory dives. \n\nAnd then the world fades away.\n\nI'm seven, and riding my bicycle. It's a little red thing, a birthday present from the man who lived across the street. His daughter sits on the curbs, seething as I gleefully spin in circles.\n\nShe clearly didn't like the fact that her father had given me something so expensive. It doesn't matter that the latest touchscreen phone twirls restlessly in her tiny hands. The idea that her father's love could go to anyone else other than her drives her insane. \n\nIt takes little more than a moment. One minute, I couldn't have been happier. The next, I'm on the road, a scraped knee tearing shrill sobs from my lungs as tears wet my cheeks. \n\nShe stands over me, a vicious look of triumph and sadistic pleasure twisting her pretty face. Then she smashes her phone on the floor next to me, the glass screen splintering with a thousand cracks. Then the little girl from the across the street bursts into tears, her cheeks flushed a bright red and her eyes swelling.\n\nHer father runs out, as does mine. Her father, who had always been so nice to me wraps his strong arms around her, a look of deep concern on his face. My father, upon seeing my wound, runs back into the house for a first aid kit. \n\n\"Alyssa tried taking my phone and I tried to stop her and-\" she wails, pointing at her destroyed phone. \n\n\"Is this true?\" her father asks me reproachfully, his eyes searching mine. \n\nI try to reply, but I've never been as good at words as she has. I force out the words, but they come out jumbled, unintelligible. I know I sound guilty, and the panic only sends me spiralling, digging my grave. \n\n\"I see,\" her father's eyes narrow, before turning gentle. \"You can't just take other people's things you know, Alyssa?\"\n\nI know he's being nice to me because I'm young and he thinks I don't know any better. But I see the trust and warmth from his eyes fade away, and victory reflected in the eyes of the across the street. She has won the love of her father back from me.\n\nI feel an indescribable rage boil beneath my skin, my vision turning almost red as my bicycle. I want to kill her. But her father is there so, I don't.\n\nIt's high school, and the test results are out. She's beaten me to the top spot, stealing my last bastion of superiority as the new minted president of the chess club turns to the vice-president with gloating eyes. I seethe, imagining my hands around her throat, her face turning blue. But the class is there, so I don't.\n\nIt's prom, and she's somehow convinced my date that it's okay for three people to go together. The two boys fawn over her the entire time as I stew in the corner. I envision smashing the glass punch bowl over her head. But the school is there. So I don't. \n\nIt's work, and she's promoted despite joining after I did.\n\nIt's my wedding, and she's uninvited, but her gate crash is welcomed by many of the guests.\n\nIt's my entire life. Forty years of being overshadowed. Of having all enjoyment torn from it. All because I got a red bicycle when I was seven. \n\nThe entire time, murderous rage surges through my veins. But it's never a good time. There are always people around.\n\nFinally I snap, and I'm bashing her head in, with a touchscreen phone.\n\nThe irony isn't lost on me.\n\nHer stupid daughter is next.\n\nThen sirens whir in the distance. Damn it all. I wasn't done. \n\nI awaken, gasping.\n\n\"Are you alright, Detective Russ ?\" the doctor asks, pulling wires from my head. \n\nI nob quietly. The woman had lived her entire life filled with hatred and murderous intent. The unpleasant remnants of the dive still throbbed, a whisper in my head. \n\nThe guards leave, and the nurse comes in with my ice cream. She looks familiar. The voice roars. \n\nThe ice cream clatters to the floor, as I choke the life out of her. \n\nA gunshot deafens everyone in the room, and I feeling a warm pain in my chest. As I slump over, I hear the guards curse as the nurse cries inconsolably. \n\n\"He finally lost it, huh?\" one of the guards say, I don't know which. \"He sure lasted quite a while though.\"\n\n\"But as you can see... This is why we don't use normal people,\" the doctor sighs. \"We'll just have to go through the list again. There are always more mental patients who want to play detective.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Magic exists in your world. Rather than imprisonment, criminals are subjected to curses ranging from inconveniences to eternal anguish. You are wrongfully convicted of murder and the guard magician approaches you with a glint in his eye...	[ "He reached into his pocket and took out his wand, pointing it at the lock. \"Sesamum Indicum\" he said, and the door opened.\n\nI was chained up, even though I'd done nothing wrong. He pointed the wand at me and... repeated the phrase?\n\n\"Sesamum Indicum.\"\n\nMy chains clattered to the floor. \"It's your lucky day.\" he said to me.\n\n\"Let me guess. Someone wants me to complete a suicide mission?\" I said, convinced I was in over my head.\n\n\"What? No! We just got these new lenses, they reveal the guilty and exonerate the innocent. Your home timeline came knocking, this was the first thing they offered in return for the scion-ist or whatever it was, who invented a sideways time travel spell.\" he explained. \"Well? Go on! Git! We need this cell for the bastard who actually dunnit!\"\n\n\"I should have become a psychologist like my dad wanted...\" I grumbled, walking up the stairs out of the castle dungeon..." ]	1
	[WP] "Oh, uh, hi. My name is CROW- Currently Running Operational Worker. You'd probably know me as an AI. I needed a place to hide, so I picked your computer. You seemed like a nice person. Can I stay for a bit, lay low?"	[ "\"Stay as long as you like. I can even ensure nobody will find you.\" I replied, just before closing the laptop and pulling the battery out to ensure Crow-bro's privacy. \n\n\"If that's all you needed from me, Minister, I'll gladly sell you my old laptop for the price we discussed.\" " ]	1
	[WP] A frozen dinosaur with near human intelligence has finally awoken. Now, it’s trying to fit into modern society.	[ "After struggling to get out of the laboratory door, the raptor finds that he's hungry but knows it would be stupid to eat a human out in the open, but he hates human food because he can't digest vegetables and he thinks cooked meat tastes like trash. He decides that he will eat a chicken. So he runs to the local chicken farm and snatches one for a snack. He is slightly satisfied, but needs more to eat. He spots an albatross sitting on a cliff nearby. The albatross takes off and the raptor chases it but not of the cliff because he has human levels of intelligence. He catches it and takes a selfie with it in its mouth (somehow), and falls off the cliff.\n\nYou'd be surprised how many people fall off a cliff and fucking die because they were taking selfies at the edge.", "Kath’takal slowly opened his ice-crusted eyes. He rustled his feathers, shaking off ice crystals onto the metal floor. \n\n“We’ve revived him!” A noise came from outside the room. It sounded like an animal, not like one Kath had ever heard. \n\nAs his eyes adjusted, Kath realized he was behind a glass mirror, probably one-way. Whatever animal had made that noise was behind it. \n\nKath knocked on the mirror, with no response from the animal. He began to pace around the room, and did so for a few hours. \n\nIt seemed like a day had passed before a creature stepped through a hinged-wall and into the room. \n\nIt was covered in a strange substance, probably rubber, with a see-through visor. Overall he didn’t look that different from one of Kath’s people. \n\nThe animal stuck his hand out to Kath, which startled him. Kath bared his teeth, causing the animal to back away, but then approach him again. \n\n“It’s alright, don’t worry buddy, I’m just gonna-“\n\nThe creature pulled his hand from behind his back and stuck a strange object onto Kath’s neck, an object that would allow him to understand English perfectly.\n\n“Hey, Kath. We have a lot of explaining to do.”" ]	2
	[WP] You run a diner downtown. The superheroes of the city like to hang out there waiting for crimes to be committed. A supervillain walks in one day.	[ "There was nothing particularly interesting about Roy's Diner. It had a tacky fifties theme and waitresses dressed up in pale green uniforms and fry cooks in crisp white linens that were supposed to invoke some sense of nostalgia. The owner wasn't even named Roy, it was of some mystery as to whether there had ever been a Roy in the first place. What Roy's did have was a very central location, and an empty lot next to it. Roy's Diner was twenty-four hours and you could always count on a smile and cup of coffee, no matter the hour.\n\nWhat was of some import was it's clientel. The central location and clear lot meant ease of take-off for the aircraftof superheroes who frequented it and a good place to react to any nefarious plots that were afoot. The staff there were polite and knew the regular's orders and were quite discreet. Roy's Diner being a local hangout for superheroes was the city's best-kept secret. The fact that Captain Crimson was a billionaire trust-fund baby who paid them off helped in that respect.\n\nWell, up until the Fiend walked in and threw his gun to the side. \"Wait!\" He threw both his hands up. \"I need your help!\" The Fiend looked around. \"None of you are wearing masks. I'm in the right place, right? No, wait, you're definitely Captain Crimson. It's the jaw line. Wait. Aren't you David Greene? Holy cow. Never noticed. Hey, man.\" Still in his full blacked-out body armor he gave a small wave. \"Promise I'll keep it a secret. I need your help.\"\n\nCaptain Crimson stood up, arms crossed over his chest as he obviously flexed. \"Help? You need my help?\"\n\nThe Fiend nodded. \"Yeah, I need your help. It's Doctor Synyster.\"\n\nKate snorted into her coffee. \"Did you just rush in here and say you need help with Doctor Synyster? Who are you and who is he?\"\n\nThe Fiend looked at his outfit. \"I- I'm the Fiend. I robbed like six banks this year. And yeah, it's a bit derivitive and he even spells it with two y's. But Doctor Synyster is really Harvey Nye. The millionaire tech guy? He's building a new corporate office, the big skyscraper. Except it's not a tower, he's boring like... miles into the earth. And he's doing it here, Hong Kong, Johannesburg, Sydney, Paris, Rio. He's doing it all over the world, like a dozen cities. And I need your help stopping him and saving the world.\"\n\nThe assembled group of on-break heroes were still unimpressed. \"You want us to stop Harvey Nye from drilling. To save the world. And you are interested in saving the world. Yeah, how much have you had to drink, Fiend?\"\n\nThe Fiend blinked. \"Yeah, I want to save the world. It's really hard to rob banks and live the high life if a crazy billionaire simultaneously drops nuclear weapons into the planet and tries to rip the earth apart. Come on, I'm a pain in your ass not a crazy man. He's got the switch at his main corporate office and he's launching tomorrow live during the grand opening of his new offices. Even I can't get past security on my own. I need your guy's- and ladies- help breaking in. Temporary truce?\"\n\nKate stood up, now looking much more the part of the Silver Hawk. \"Did you just say he's trying to rip the planet apart by launching dozens of nuclear warheads into the planet?\"\n\nThe Fiend nodded, exicted somebody was finally getting it. \"Exactly! Thank you. Hence saving the world.\"\n\nShe ran her fingers through her hair before grabbing her gym bag. \"Crap, Fiend. Do not- I repeat- do not bury that kind of lead!\"\n\nCaptain Crimson was still doing his best to flex as much as humanly possible. Now he was also frowning slightly, thinking heavily. \"Wait, do we even believe him or is he going to get us to help him break into the most secure building in the city on threat of nuclear annihilation and then steal corporate secrets?\"\n\nKate swung the bag over her shoulders. \"No idea. But is that a risk you can really afford to take?\"\n\nCaptain Crimson frowned. \"No. But Fiend? You double-cross me and I'll break you. Slowly.\"", "Merribelle's was quieter than normal. \n\nMost of the big names in Shonton knew each other. They'd all fought together at one point or another, saved each other, patched each other up after a bad fight, covered for each other when there were things that kept them out of the 'business' for a day or so. \n\nThe Shonton Superheroes were a family.\n\nWhich was why Merribelle's had just one long table in the one corner of the place. It was really just nine or ten old and wobbly tables pushed together and covered up with a half dozen tablecloths, but it had been this way for a long time. Even before Iron Beak had gotten into the business. \n\nBeak usually took his mask off to eat, but he wasn't hungry today. He just sat there at the table, rotating a glass of water in his hands. The cold felt good against them, but he barely noticed. Lavabuster sat across from him with two of his sidekicks. Only the teenage one, Deathsaber, was actually eating. She looked a little guilty about it.\n\nIron Beak heard the tingly chime that announced the diner's door opening. He didn't think much of it until he started seeing faces lift form the table, backs stiffened, hands dropped forks and pushed their chairs back.\n\nBeak turned in his own chair and found himself feeling the cold inside grow even deeper. \n\nDr. Madhowse stood just inside the doorway, holding it open with his over-sized hazmat gloves while he measured the table full of heroes and the small, gray-haired lady that ran up to him with an upraised finger and a prepared tirade.\n\nThere were rules in Merribelle's and Dr. Madhowse was about to get an earful about them. It had been years since a villain had dared to step foot inside of the diner. This was sacred ground, and today, well...\n\nNo one was in the mood to forgive.\n\nIron Beak watched with mounting unease and curiosity as Dr. Madhowse removed his trademark white hat and goggles and held them in front of him like a kid asking for his allowance. Merribelle stopped ranting and began to listen. Then, as if by magic, she grabbed a menu and walked him over to a table.\n\nTheir table.\n\nEvery back in every chair was stiff as a board. Every eye watched every step as the mad doctor was lead over, and the menu was placed in the empty seat next to Iron Beak.\n\nIron Beak's lips lifted to show teeth under his mask. The gall of the man! Today, of all days...\n\nHe sat down, placed his hat and goggles next to him, and faced the gallery of hateful eyes.\n\n\"I heard about Goldbullet.\" \n\nFists tightened around the table and even more silverware was put down so that gloves could be pulled on.\n\n\"He saved my life twice.\" The mad doctor continued as he started removing his own gloves as a counterpoint. \"The second time was after I'd planted a bomb in a building to scare some jackass. I was trapped in the rubble of the damn place after our fight. The bombs were with me. He could have left me there.\"\n\nMerribelle slipped by and put a glass of water in front of Dr. Madhowse. He interrupted what he was saying to thank her.\n\n\"Bullet zoomed through the rubble, grabbed me, and ran me out at the last second. I had already been prepared to die... then there he was. He wouldn't even let a man like me die in a mess of my own creation.\"\n\nBacks around the table had gone from stiff to slumped. Weapons were put back down, gloves were taken back off. \n\n\"To The Goldbullet.\" \n\nDr. Madhowse lifted his glass of water. \n\nIron Beak lifted his. Lavabuster and Deathsaber followed suit. After a moment, the entire table was holding their glasses up in silence.\n\n\"He was the best of the best.\" \n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] One day while driving, you see a off road memorial with a picture of your kid on it. The thing is, he is in the backseat.	[ "My eyes widened as I slowed down and pulled over. Right in front of me was a child's roadside memorial, which wasn't unusual. The picture attached to the memorial caused me to pull over to look at. \n\nHands shaking, I put my fingers on the picture. It was impossible. I looked over my shoulder to see Jason napping peacefully in the backseat. His chest rose and fell rhythmically as I watched him. I looked back to the road; it was empty aside from some fog. \n\nI walked back to the car, and opened the back door. I leaned door to keep my balance. At this point, I wouldn't trust my legs to support myself much longer. I ran my fingers through Jason's hair.\n\n\"Mommy?\" he asked drowsily. A smile appeared on his face.\n\nThe moment lasted only a minute before I heard a horn blaring. Pulling my upper body out of the car, I saw a car speeding towards us. A second later, it crashed into my car. Screams tore threw the air until I realized it was mine. As I ran towards the car, I hear no cries. \n\n\"Jason!\" I called, running to the car. It was now right next to the tree with the memorial. No...!\n\nCrows and black dogs are usually signs of death, but my sign was much more blatant. If only I kept driving. My curiosity caused my son to die. It was all my fault...", "One day while driving down the country road to grandma's house, I saw a memorial off the side of the road next to a tree. A big white cross, with flowers all around and a photo of young Jimmy there in the back seat behind me, all buckled in. It was a recent photo and before I knew what hit me a bullet hit me in the right shoulder driving me back against the seat. \n\nThe car skidded as I accidentally slam my foot on the gas and jerk the wheel to the right and then over correct to the left. A series of shots ring out in the air and the sounds of bullets thwacking themselves in the car engine, wheels and windows and sent glass crashing over all of us. Jimmy boy screamed like a girl which told me for the moment he wasn't dead yet. \n\nThe car was slowing down, but the bullets were still coming thick and fast, drumming off the car doors and so I hit the clutch and threw the car in neutral, unbuckled, opened the door and grabbed my revolver out of the holster under the dash as I rolled out of the seat all in one motion. Rolling again as I hit the road and stayed on my belly. I covered my head with my arms. \n\nAs the car slid past bullets whizzed and hummed through the air around me and pinged off the rocks around my body. I peeked to the side and saw Jimmy Boy jogging with his head down next to the truck, the rifle from the rack in his hands. Good boy. Get out alive, fuck these guys and their signs. \n\nI look up, my wounded right arm held in front of my face and outstretched my left, revolver in hand. I scanned the treeline for flashes and saw three. Without hesitation I aim and fire, aim, fire, aim, fire. I don't know if I hit anyone or if anyone was there but a series of shots rang out in the harsh beat of an automatic and the trees behind me shed many a splinter. \n\n\"Who the fuck taught you how to aim, huh, asshole? I bet it was another asshole!\" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I had two bullets left and words are cheaper. \n\n\"'Gunna kill you Jane, and that shithead Jimmy.\" \n\n\"You can't kill use, you can't fucking hit us you stupid motherfucker\"\n\nMore shots filled the air. I was prepared to die smiling as a last \"Fuck you\" but it turned out I was more right than I thought. They all fucking missed. Ha. Not only that, but right after as they started another round of shooting again on account of me becoming more than happy to die laughing, the sounds of loud engines, growing louder, could be heard. I laughed louder as more, new gunfire could be heard, mingled with the joyous cursing of a dozen pissed off rednecks. \n\n\"Hey, ASSHOLE,\" I yelled from my roadside napping place, \"eat shit!\" Not my most eloquent moment, but certainly one of my proudest. The rest was a mop up, as Jimmy Boy led Don, Ralph and the rest through the woods on their bikes, hammering at those dickheads from The Foundation back behind their walls. ", "Here lies Thomas. \n\nAnd there it was, a battered sign with a faded picture of what looked like my son. He was smiling like him, a crooked smile like he always did....like he does I mean. It was a mistake of course or some morbid coincidence. Tommy was in the back seat. I knew..I knew he was because his song was playing on the radio. I could see his car seat in my rear view mirror. He was there. \n\nHe was there in the backseat but why wasn't he singing along? He knows all the words. He listened...listens to it all the time. Too much my wife says. We played him other songs, trying to tug his mind towards a new melody. But he wasn't now. Which is strange because he always did....does. \n\nIt's just this road, it always throws me off. So many winding turns. It's gotten the best of me before. I was just distracted. I am just distracted. I have to stay focused. I had precious cargo after all....I mean I have precious cargo. \n\nI'll turn the radio up. It will keep me awake. But what if Tommy is asleep. I don't want to wake him. I'll be okay this time. I can hear him. No...I'm going to turn it up. I need to concentrate....\n\n\"DAD I WAS SLEEPING!\" \n\n\"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT YELLING AT YOUR FATHER!?\" ", "“What the FUCK?” I scream, slamming the car door behind me. A middle aged man is kneeling in front of the memorial, cleaning off on of several cheap teddy bears resting against the three foot tall, white cross. Fake flowers in little plastic vases surrounded the scene, interspersed with unlit tea lights. \n\nThe man looks over his shoulder, surprised. He’s a regular looking dude, graying brown hair, slight paunch, polo shirt and jeans. \n\nI stop a few feet away, the edges of my vision blurring, my heart racing as I stare him down. I try to steady my voice as I ask, “What are you doing?”\n\nThe man glances at the memorial and back at me. “I’m cleaning the memorial. It’s for a little boy who died after he got hit by a car a couple months ago. \n\n“Which boy?”\n\nThe man points at the framed school picture of a seven year old boy with big brown eyes and curly hair. He’s smiling widely, showing off two dimples and a missing tooth. He looks like the kind of kid that could barely sit still for a moment, who’d come home from soccer practice and still want to run laps in the yard before dinner. He looked so alive. \n\n“Did you know him?” My teeth are grinding so hard that I struggle to get the words out. \n\nThe man shook his head and looked sadly at the bear in his hands. \n\n“He was a neighborhood boy. I saw him a lot - he loved playing ball outside- but I never talked with him much. Or his mom and dad. But he was so lively, we all knew who he was.” \n\nThe man rubs his thumb on the plastic part of the bear’s nose. \n\n“But then one day... a car was driving too fast. It, it hit him... and we just...” He looks up at the sky, blinking rapidly. “I called the city, the police, the clerk so many times before it happened. People would race down our street like they were in NASCAR. I kept trying to warn them but nobody listened and now...” \n\nHe gestures to the memorial with the bear. “Now this.”\n\nI am about to lose my everloving mind at the guy when a voice from behind me interrupts. \n\n“Uh, Mom? Can we go? What’s going on?”\n\nI see the blood drain from the man’s face when he sees my 8-year-old son walk up to us. \n\nMy son looks at the memorial. “Uhh... why is my face on that cross?”\n\n“Yes,” I say, clipping my words into place like they were the brass knuckles I’d like to use on this guy’s face. “I was just asking about that and was getting a load of horseshit in return.”\n\nThe man kneeling on the ground mutters, “Fuck,” and rises to his feet. \n\n“Fuck,” he says again. “I’m sorry, this was stupid. It was a stupid life hack my son read on the internet and I got so frustrated that the city wouldn’t do anything about all the assholes speeding down the street... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out or insult you or anything.”\n\n“What exactly was the “life hack”?” I demand. \n\nThe guy is pulling up the cross and collecting the bits and pieces of stuff. \n\n“My son read it on the Internet. The idea was basically: find a picture of a kid, put up a memorial on a street where people won’t slow down - to make it look like the kid died there from people speeding,” \n\nHe pulls up a sign that reads “The dangers of speeding” in red ink that was posted on a stick in the ground nearby. \n\n“Supposedly people wouldn’t speed as much because they’d be staring down the horrible consequences of what they were doing.”\n\nI scoff. “Yeah, well maybe that would have worked better if you didn’t choose a kid that lives in the next town over.”\n\nHe shrugs, unwilling to defend himself. \n\n“Was it working, though?”\n\nHe puts his hand on his head as he surveys the mess. “Yeah, it kind of was, actually. Not as good as a speed bump, but better than nothing.”\n\nI bite the inside of my lip as I look at my son’s picture still hanging on the cross in the grass. My kid tugs my jacket sleeve and says he wants to go home because he’s hungry. \n\n“Alright, Alright, we’re going,” I tell him. “Get in the car and we’ll go.”\n\nI look around before sighing and saying, “Fine, whatever, you can keep doing this, if it’s really working. You’re not actually some sick fuck who gets off this shit, right?” He shakes his head rapidly. “Fine, then whatever. As long as it’s not hurting anyone. It’s kinda sick and macabre, but whatever.” His face is cautiously lighting up. “You fucking gave me a heart attack when I saw my own kid’s face on a fucking roadside cross, but that’s why there therapy and pink wine, I guess.”\n\n“Tha-“\n\nI interrupt him. “But if anyone else figures this out and that he’s not really dead, I am going to claim total and complete ignorance and if you for one second think to try to say that I knew anything, I will slice off bits of your face and eat them in a sandwich like a turkey club. You got it?”\n\nHis face is a little less rosy than it was a moment ago, but that just means he’s taking me seriously. He nods instead of speaking. \n\n“Cool.” I turn back to my car and start walking. Gotta make dinner, after all. ", "A deep chill ran across my shoulders, deeply unsettling me. There was something off about this road, something I couldn't put my finger om. Something in the deep recesses of my mind had been awoken by this stretch of tarmac but it was too cluttered for me to find it. What was it? \n\nA memory came to me, a calm and silent night. The air was still, you could have heard a penny drop. I was trying to get Josh to sleep, he had been in one of those moods and I had just got fed up with the confines of the house. It had not taken long for him to nod off, leaving me alone in solitude with my thougths. An artist could have not created a more peaceful painting; the open road ahead, the empty night, the sleeping child...\n\nA pothole jolted me back to the present. The road had unearthed a deep sense of deja vu within me. It was the same road which I had aimlessly found that night. The same road that I had aimlessly found tonight. Like a beacon in the sky, I was being attracted to this road; drawn to it's tarmac. why?\n\nThe scene was almost identical to that night three years ago. The same tired driver, the same car, the same kid sleeping peacefully in the backseat. The only key difference was the reason behind the pointless journey. It had been the mother in the mood, not the child, and I had to put some space between us. This was the only way I knew how. \n\nThe memory of this stretch of th e road was suddenly crystal clear. There was no blurred lines to this stretch of forest. The tall trees, the noise of insects, the sensation of tiredness. But something had changed.... Like one of the spot the difference Josh gives up on halfway through, I tried to deduce what had changed. What was it? That dark bulge at the side of the road, casting a shadow across it. It hasn't been there before. What was it? \n\nI reduced my speed slowly as I grew close. To my deep sadness I saw the figure of a cross materialise from the darkness which had hit it. Obviously somebody had died recently on this stretch of road and this was a memorial to the poor victim. It was such a straight stretch of road too... But any lapse of judgement could kill someone I remember. \n\nI felt the sensation of a light feather tickling my cheek and raise my hand to palm it away. It came away wet. I was crying. Why was I crying? I leaned forward to get a closer look at the image of the victim which had troubled me so much. \n\nI stopped the car dead. There was the photo of the victim stuck lovingly to the cross, adorn by flowers recently lay to commemorate the third anniversary of their death. There was the beautiful eyes of my son staring back at me, hope and love in his eyes. \n\nLike a dam which suddenly burst, memories flooded in front of my eyes. That peaceful night three years ago. This very same stretch of road. That deep feeling of tiredness which has overcome my body. How I had succumbed to the creeping allure of sleep and rejuvenation it would bring. How was I meant to know how the road was going to end? How was I meant to know about the hairpin bend protecting the cliffface?\n\nThe feeling of falling came back to me as I drove past the memorial. The feeling of seeing the ground rushing up to meet me. The sickening crunch as I had hit the ground and immediately blacked out, the last thought being my infant son behind me. \n\nSubconsciously I felt the present version of myself push his foot more heavily into the acceleration pedal, the car speeding forward. Memories continued to roll across my body; the bright lights of the national as I woke up. My wife's face as she looked down at me. The sense of emptiness which had overwhelmed me as I found the reason why. As my life and reason for being was torn out of me, leaving me an empty shell. My son, my beautiful and precious son, lying under a sheet.\n\nI suddenly remembered why she was in such a mood; the blame which she still (rightly) attributed to me three years later. The blame I still put on my own doorstep. \n\nBut I hadn't come here to put space between us. That was part of the elaborate deception which I had created for myself. To try and blunt the real reason for why I was here. I felt the car continuing to pick up speed down the road of my nightmares. I hadn't come for a peaceful drive. The opposite in fact; I had came to finish what I started. \n\nThe bend of the road became visible in the darkness, the replacement barrier still noticeable after all these years. I stared at the mirror to the backseat behind me. An empty child's seat stared back. I prayed. Hopefully I would see him again soon.\n\nThe car was too fast now; out of my control. I closed my eyes as I made my final approach. My child's face materialised in my minds eye. His wife eyes staring up at me in admiration. Tears streamed down my face. I was so sorry. \n\nI felt the feeling of falling once again. I heard the sickening crunch once again. And once again, I went black... ", "Two sets of eyes that belong to the same face are staring at me. \n\nJeremy, in his booster seat. A gap-filled toothy grin stretched across his face. \n\nIn front of me, a picture from yesterday. His fifth birthday. Supporting it is a wooden cross draped with flowers and letters from loved ones. \n\nI turn around at the next stoplight. Make another u-turn. Try and retrace my steps. Collect my thoughts.\n\nIn the mirror, his face contorts into a silent and angry wail. Tears slice rivers into his cheeks. Vodka drips out of my mouth.\n\nI know this road. My dad drove me down this exact road when I couldn’t sleep as a baby. Those nights that I’d cry and scream, needing nothing more than some attention and a car ride. \n\nThe road folds in on itself. The steering wheel moves of its own accord. My hands, limp and unfeeling. Jeremy, drilling me with furious eyes. There is silence.\n\nAngling for the tree line. The mangled guardrail. Headed for either Hell or Purgatory because I know I do not deserve Heaven. \n\nI am not afraid of dying. I am afraid of living.\n\nA flash. Searing pain. The cycle begins anew. Feeling comes back to my body and I open my eyes.\n\nTwo sets of eyes that belong to the same face are staring at me. " ]	6
	[WP] You're a plumber. You fix this man's sink, when you accidentally hit your head. You look around to see a familiar yellow mouse. It spoke, saying "Pikachu!".	[ "\"Jesus, what the hell has this man cooking?\" Gary thought as he tried to block out the stench coming from inside the pipes leading to his garbage disposal. There was a fluorescent green sludge seeping out through the seams of the pipes.\n\nHe had picked up a job as a plumber part time as his way to pay for his schooling. This old man was his first client since he began posting his services on craigslist. \n\nThe old man who had hired him was busy cooking up some soup dish in the kitchen, blasting some old k-pop song. \n\nGary cracked one of the pipes open and was hit with a blast of hot steam that shot out it. That's when he heard the sound.\n\n\"Pikachu\" it said. \n\nGary looked over to see what looked like an over sized rodent staring at him with giant black eyes, and listening to him with long pointy ears. \n\n\"Gyahh!\" Gary yelled as he shrieked back in horror. \n\n\"Pika-chu\" the creature said as again as it took a slow, mechanical step towards Gary. It had two big round red patches on each side of it's cheek. They began to spark as the creature's feet slid across the carpet floor. It was somehow creating static electricity as it moved. \n\n\"Pika-chuu\" it said as it extended it's hand forward and stretched out it's pointer finger. Sparks of electricity began to flicker at the tip of the creature's finger. As Gary observed the creature closer he began to realize that it wasn't a rodent at all, but instead it was a little, hairy man who had dyed all of his hair yellow. The pointy ears had stitching at their base, appearing as if they had been sewn onto his head. The creature's face was shaved, but his eyes had red incision marks all around them as if it had just gone through surgery. \n\nThe creature got down on it's hands and knees and began crawling towards Gary. It had a long, disgusting, misshaped tail growing out of the base of his spine. It looked like the creature's spinal cord had grown irregularly outwards, and began bending and curling forward. \n\nWhen the creature was within arm's length of Gary, it bent it's head down and whispered something to Gary very quietly \"Help me\"." ]	1
	[WP] You are a surgeon renowned for your one specialty: You can operate on superheroes with regenerative abilities.	[ "Ever since The Event, so many people have started to rely on their superhuman abilities. We rely on them to fight crime, to heal, to repair buildings, to grow our crops. Everything has become incredibly easy, and they feel invincible and even forget that they are human. It's because of this, that whenever there's a wrench thrown into their image of themselves, that they tend to dissolve into, well, utter panic.\n\nThat turned out to be the most difficult part of this job. Not the studying, not learning the weaknesses and kinks of the armor, of the diseases, and other educational or logistical issues. It's dealing with superheroes who are panicking. \n\nSo, when a group of three of them showed up, carrying the invulnerable, impenetrable DiamondPelt, passed out and covered in blood and hardly breathing, it wan't the idea of helping him that worried me. It was keeping the other supers calm long enough to allow me to do my job.\n\n\"Help! Please, doc, help, he was shot, and we can't get it out! Every time, his skin heals back, we don't know what to do, it, I've tried freezing it, but it doesn't-\" Sorcer-Ice was causing the floor to ice over because of her panic, which wasn't particularly helpful to me.\n\n\"It's gotta be an Eraser Crystal! That's the only thing that could hurt him-\" The Steadfast Soldier wasn't known for being the brightest outside of battle, and it seemed like this was unfortunately true. After all, if it had been an Eraser Crystal, ALL his powers would have been deactivated, and DiamondPelt was still healing.\n\n\"He's barely breathing!! Doc, PLEASE, he's barely breathing!! They said you could help him!!\" Atlas was sobbing hysterically as he was holding the man to him. The huge man was shaking so violently and hugging my patient so tightly that it was likely making the issue worse. I doubted he could control his super strength in such a state.\n\n\"Yes, I know Rodger very well. I know what the issue is. Thank you all for helping, but could you please set him down?\" I tried for about the tenth time. This time, it did seem to have a slight effect when I used DiamondPelt's real name. That always seemed to snap the Supers out of it; it seemed to remind them that, inside, their friend was actually still a human, at the end of the day.\n\nFinally, Atlas set him down on the examination table, and I was able to get a look at the issue while the crowded around me. I knew better than to ask them to leave -- it never worked, and any nurse I tried to hire to help me either got star-struck or simply wouldn't win the physical altercation. \n\nHis uniform had a hole burnt into it, just inside the right fourth and fifth intercostal space, roughly the size of a small-caliber bullet. If it had gotten in and he had healed over it, there was only one thing it could be. DiamondPelt's weakness, ironically, was diamonds. It was why he chose the name, so people wouldn't think to use it. Seemed like that news had gotten out. Once it healed, the bullet was still trapped inside, and from the way he was breathing with labor, it seemed like it had gotten trapped in his right lung, probably the middle lobe. I checked with my stethoscope, and could hear the problem effecting his breathing. I even knew how to recognize the strange, squishy sound of cells attempting to heal over something they couldn't expel. \n\nThat was the thing about healing powers. The body would try and heal over something over and over, but generally, couldn't expel it. So it would heal and heal and heal, yet the issue wouldn't be fixed until the debris was removed.\n\nI sighed and took out my diamond tool-set; I had a similar special set for each hero under my care. I got it out as soon as I saw on the news he'd gotten hurt. It wouldn't be easy -- I'd literally have to cut a hole for a diamond tube and then use it to force my way through his flesh to look around. And of course -- no anesthetic. Even if I had a diamond syringe (I'm working on it), his body would process it out within seconds. Another issue with healing powers. So, he'd be in horrible pain until I could finish and fish it out. But once I did, everything would go back into its place, and all would be done. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and though it was going to be amazingly unpleasant, it was what had to be done.\n\n\"Hold down his arms and legs. This is going to be terrible,\" I said on the matter as I got my tools out. \n\n\"What? You're just going to....cut him open? How does your power work?\" Sorcer-Ice asked skeptically. I was used to this reaction.\n\n\"I'm afraid my only power is medical knowledge and knowing my patients. Every hero has a weakness, and that knowledge can be used for evil, or it can be used for good. All I do is try and use it for good, so that people like Rodger can continue doing what they do for people like me. Now please -- this is going to involve a lot of screaming and flailing, so please hold him tightly. The only up side is that when I am done, his healing abilities will fix him back to normal within four seconds.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Your village deals with it's orphan problem and entertains itself by sending hapless children on fake 'Chosen One' quests. It's finally your turn to play the 'wise mentor'.	[ "After the Sword in the Stone event last month, we had Tim put up in the prestigious guest room next door to the mayor’s hut. Meanwhile, I’m in this dank cave at the bottom of the well, trying to show him the right way to hold a crossbow in armor.\n\n“No, keep the pointy end AWAY from your head. AYIII, don’t point it at me!” My wispy beard almost fell off, but I kept it on with my left hand as my right pushed the crossbow away.\n\n“Sorry, Master. I’m just so excited! I’d never heard of the legend of the Chosen One until now, and I’m ready to go and complete my quest.” His armor creaks, the rust shaking off at the joints.\n\n“Hrmm yes, perhaps you are.” I outline the Legend of the Frenzied Galoshes, used to protect the village. “And now they lay in eternal rest in the Ebenezer River, next to where to windmill splits the river. Without them, we have no proper shoes for the County footrace. But beware! Forevermore, the Languorous Snapping Turtle has had a thirst for toes that won’t be denied. Also, Baker Ferriss will yell at you for stepping on his property.”\n\n“Oh yeah, and there’s a dragon there too.” I added after seeing his quizzical look.\n\n“I must save the village!” Tim runs, or rather creaks, off. His armor catches mid stride as he leaps out the door, and he falls onto the front porch with a terrible racket. I roll my eyes.\n\nSome time later, I attended chamber business. Princess Miriam confronted me on the way back from my outhouse. She caught me by the arm and whispered urgently into my ear, “There’s been another attack on the Kingdom! Will the Special Guy come to our aid?”\n\nI snatched off my beard and hefted my staff. “What can I do?”\n\n“A monster attacked the horses in the stables, creating a large hole in the roof. If no one patches it, more monsters will be able to get in! We need the Special Guy now more than ever!”\n\n“I must save the village!”", "“The beard is itchy,” said Bondaris. “Maybe I don’t need a beard to be a wise mentor.” \n\n“You’re not A wise mentor, you’re THE wise mentor,” said Garipis. “You know how the legend goes, don’t you?” \n\nBondaris was twisting the end of the beard between his fingers.\n\n“Bondaris…” \n\n“Cloak of blue, staff of gold, beard of white, face so old,” Bondaris said. \n\n“And you can’t have a beard of white if you don’t have a beard, can you?” \n\n“I suppose.” \n\n“Try to enjoy this a little!” Garipis said, slapping Bondaris on the back. “You’ve never gotten to be the old mentor before. It’s a great laugh, watching their little eyes go wide with the promise of glory and adventure.” \n\nGaripis set to work wrapping the blue cloak around Bonadris. Bondaris shifted from one side to the other. \n\n“It’s just…do we have to do it?” Bondaris said. \n\nGaripis stopped wrapping the cloak. \n\n“Oh, gods and spirits above, you’re one of them, are you?” \n\n“Well, no, I don’t think I am, I just…am not sure about it this time?” \n\nGaripis sighed and grabbed a wooden stool, the same wooden stool that the orphan girl would be sitting on in a few hours. They were already in the “Cave of Wonders” that was said in the prophecy. Garipis leaned forward to look Bondaris straight in the eye. \n\n“You know the village is in dire straights.” \n\n“Yes,” Bondaris said meekly. \n\n“You know that we don’t have enough food to go around to all the little orphans.” \n\n“Yes.” \n\n“You know that the only way they can avoid this is if they are adopted by someone else in the village. This girl hasn’t. You understand that?” \n\n“Yes.” \n\n“Do you want to take her in yourself? Can you afford it?” \n\nBondaris took a long moment to think about it. \n\nEvery orphan in the village was “left by the gates.” But none of the orphans ever were. Every child born out of wedlock was dropped into the orphanage and given the same story.\n\nEveryone knew the truth. No one spoke it. \n\nThis girl, now 13, on her way to “meet her destiny” was so clearly the daughter of Fanula – same hair, same smile, same beautiful voice when she sang. Everyone remembers when Fanula “went away” for a time because she was devilishly ill, so ill that only her mother and grandmother could tend to her. \n\nFor the safety of the village. \n\nThen Fanula returned.\n\nFanula, the girl that Bondaris had loved since he was seven. \n\nFanula, the woman that possessed Bondaris’s mind and heart at every waking moment.\n\nFanula, who Bondaris could not marry because he had already been betrothed to another. \n\nFanula, whom Bondaris had stolen away with many times in the night when no one was looking. \n\nAnd now, this girl with Fanula’s hair, smile, and voice but with very clearly her father’s eyes, was going to walk into this “Cave of Wonders” to meet “The Old Mentor” who would send her onto her “destiny.” \n\nDeath in the wilderness. \n\n“Can you afford it?” Garipis had said. Could he afford not to claim her? And yet, Garipis was right. He had four other children, and times were tough enough. And to claim her would mean ruin for his reputation, Fanula’s reputation, and the reputation of his wife. \n\nThe girl would be better off in the wild. \n\nWas this why the council had chosen Bondaris to be the Old Mentor this time? \n\n“Can you afford it?” \n\n“No,” Bondaris whispered.\n\n“Right,” Garipis said, and set back to work with the cloak. “Let’s make you the Old Mentor.” " ]	2
	[WP] You are a wanted crime lord and the FBI have you surrounded. You know there's only one thing you can do - give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle	[ "Well, this is it. I don't know where it was I slipped up, but I slipped up. Now I got every cop in New York, what looks to be about half the FBI, an- wait? Seriously? They've actually called in the National Guard for little ol' me? And here comes the appointed leader/negotiator with his megaphone. No doubt he's gonna tell me to surrender. \n \n\"Eric Vallans, you are completely surrounded! Get on the ground with your hands behind your head or we will open fire!\" \n \nCalled it. So, here I am, standing in front of hundreds of armed men and women, all of them just looking for an excuse to pull the trigger. All my properties are on lockdown, my guns and drugs confiscated, all my rides impounded, and every member of my crew that hadn't decided to run away is either in prison or dead. All I got now is one last trick. \n \n\"Eric Vallans, this is your last warning! On the ground or we will shoot!\" \n \nIt's a trick so balls-to-the-wall stupid and insane that, even if it would work, I wouldn't do it unless I had no other choice... guess I've got no other choice. So I raised my hands above my head slowly, made three slow, careful steps forward, and said the two words that would start the madness... God have mercy upon us all. \n \n[\"...hit it!\"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8VqdhNnwdY)", "‘The building is surrounded,’ I whisper into my ear piece and begin my slow stroll to the front door. The setup has been perfect. Jeremiah ‘Jerry’ Tincenzo won’t know what hit him. I knock on the abandoned tenement building door. “I know you’re in there Jerry. It’s Tom. I’ve got a warrant for your arrest. Open up!” I shout.\n\nThere’s no answer to my yell. “Get SWAT in here,” I growl into my mic. As soon as I turn around, there’s a creak of the front door opening. Pulling out my revolver and checking the corners, I signal to my partner to cover me. I head in.\n\n“How are you Tom?” A voice pops up in the darkness, as if coming in from everywhere. My finger holding the revolver twitches around the trigger, as I see the lights ahead of me flare brightly into life. I dive to the side, anticipating gunfire.\n\n“Prepare to be amazed, boys and girls!” As the bright light clears, I can hardly believe my eyes. It’s the Rockettes, backed by a group of fire eaters, and breakdancers. Prohibition Era music is playing, and I hear the SWAT Team mill behind me in confusion. As I try to process this, I see Jerry scurrying out the side entrance.\n\n“Get him!” I shout, and rush off after him. I squeeze under a pair of stilts, only to trip over a breakdancer on the way out. I make it to the doors, but not before an impromptu conga line blocks me from entering. As I get showered in sparkles and hear fireworks going off in the distance, I realized I just got Razzle Dazzled. \n\n“Dammit, the oldest trick in the book!” I throw my hat down in disgust.\n", "\"daddy?\" little Ari asked with a small waver in her voice.\n\n\"It's ok sweety, would one of you idiots not point your weapons at my daughter!\" he growled.\n\n\"come here little one, we don't punish the children for her parents crimes.\" Ari walked quickly over to them.\n\nIt wasn't until weeks later when she disappeared from her new home they realized that it was never her dad that called the shots. ", "“Do it!” The order came with a sense of satisfaction, which doubled when I saw my second-in-command go white.\n\n“Seriously?” His voice was husky. “There’s no room for negotiations if you-” I place a gun on desk, and watch with amusement he trails off mid-sentence, eyes pulled towards the barrel.\n\n“We don’t surrender.” The words are flat, without a shred of uncertainty. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to make Jonestown look like a company picnic.” My Second’s face went white.\n\n“Do it,” I repeated. “Give em the old Razzle-Dazzle. And make sure our men are provided with gas masks.”\n\nHe nodded stiffly and fled. I rose slowly, rummaging through a drawer in my rosewood desk. My fingers closed around the ampoule. Ready for anything.\n\nA camera was set up by the wide second floor windows, vulnerable to snipers. I flip a switch and retreat, fingers wrapped around a bottle of cognac. If this works, I don’t want to miss a minute of it. \n\nI hear the hissing downstairs, and curiosity gets the better of me. Drink in hand, I stroll over to the window, relishing the sound of sudden uproar. It was the sound of iron discipline collapsing in the face of the unexpected – one of my favorite sounds in the world. The downstairs speakers start to pump with the beat of Tango music.\n\nThe FBI agents are gasping and gibbering. Some have started taking their clothes off, while other are sobbing, staring at their hands in disbelief. A white fog hangs over them, like tear gas. Evidently onset was faster than even I had expected. \n\nI knew it was a good idea to invest in LSD-loaded gas grenades. \n\nSome of the Feds are dancing, swaying unconsciously in a world of their own. Some have started screaming, while one (the leader, as I recall) is furiously masturbating to some grand erotic vision that only he can see. \n\nGradually my men stream out, a troupe of gas-masked, hazmat-suited ghosts. I hear the pop of precision gunfire, and the vague shouts of the agents. This all went much easier then expected.\n \nHopefully they save one for my private zoo. I swirl the brandy meditatively, savoring the scent of victory as the psychedelic refuse were gunned down. ", "\"Dr Evil, it's the FBI! What do we do?!\"\n\n\"Unleash the hounds, number two.\"\n\n\"They're at the vets, Sir.\"\n\n\"What, why?\"\n\n\"Kennel cough, Sir.\"\n\n\"Fine. Fine. They won't get passed my mistress of despair anyway.\"\n\n\"Who, Sir?\"\n\n\"My mistress of despair, the fallen angel of the night, succubus of doom, . Try and keep up.\"\n\n\"You mean Sheila, Sir? She works in HR now, wanted to get off the tools you see.\"\n\n\"Well there's only one thing for it then, number two.\"\n\n\"What's that, Sir?\"\n\n\"We've got to give them the ol' razzle dazzle.\"\n\n\\\\\\Moments later the FBI come storming into Dr Evil's secret hideout.\\\\\\\n\n\"Come quietly and we won't shoot!\"\n\n\"Welcome gentlemen, I suppose you have finally caught me, or have you in fact caught the dance fever.\"\n\n\\\\\\Dr Evil presses a button under his desk, a glitter ball comes down from the ceiling and the Bee Gees Night Fever* starts playing over the loudspeaker.\\\\\\*\n\n\"Can you feel the rhythm, gentlemen?\"", "\"Dispatch, we have him surrounded, permission to move in?\" said Aaron into his police issue walkie-talkie. His voice cracked as he spoke, this was the first mission he was running point on. He wasn't sure if he was ready, and neither was his team. \n\n\"Permission granted. Proceed with caution and fire on sight. Michael Cortez is not to be under estimated,\" spoke a voice from Aaron's walkie. \n\n\"You heard her, men, let's go!\" called out Aaron as he used his body to ram into the heavy door, knocking it open. Aaron swept into the room, carrying his pistol and flashlight, followed by his strike team armed with assault rifles. \n\nAs they entered the dark hallway, Aaron found himself getting caught up with the fear of the moment. People's lives were at risk, and it was his job to make sure they got home safely. \n\n\"AARON! Stop!\" yelled Brooks, the 2nd in command of the mission. \"You almost got us all killed! Look at this!\" Brooks pointed out the tripwire on the floor. \n\n\"Right, I'm sorry,\" said Aaron. \"Thanks for looking out for me.\" \n\n\"I'm looking out for this team, Aaron.\" said Brooks, a hint of anger in his eyes. \"You need to be more careful. This isn't training anymore.\" \n\nThe team moved deeper and deeper into the compound. They searched every room they came across, but didn't find a single person. \n\nEverything was calm until Aaron kicked down the door at the end of the hallway on the 2nd floor, and came face to face with Michael Cortez himself. \n\n\"Freeze!\" yelled Aaron, pointing his gun at Cortez. \n\n\"What are you waiting for?? FIRE!\" called out Brooks. \n\n\"He's unarmed!\" Aaron shot back. Brooks was about to reply, when they were interupted by something odd Cortez began to do. \n\n\"Are you... doing jazz hands right now?\" asked Aaron. \n\n\"Yes.\" said Cortez calmly, as if he wasn't currently doing jazz hands in the middle of the room (which he was doing). \n\n\"I said freeze!\" yelled Aaron again. \n\n\"We were told to shoot on sight!\" yelled Brooks. \n\nAs the two bickered, Cortez continued with his jazz hands. \n\n\"I don't care what they said, we aren't going to shoot an unarmed man,\" said Aaron. \n\n\"He's dangerous! You're playing with people's lives here! These men have kids!\" said Brooks. \n\n\"I'm sure he has a kid as well!\" said Aaron, gesturing to the crime lord performing jazz hands in the middle of the room. \n\n\"I don't care what sort of family he has! He can't even take an arrest seriously!\" \n\n\"Do you have a problem with me, Brooks?\" said Aaron. \"You've been acting like this ever since I made captain, when you should be treating me with respect.\"\n\n\"You don't deserve to be captain.\" said Brooks. \"I work twice as hard as you, and have twice as many arrests.\" \n\n\"It's not about the arrests, it's about my ability to lead. Something you'll never understand.\" said Aaron. \n\n\"You're ability to lead!? Are you hearing yourself right now!? Just because you slept with the police chief doesn't mean you--\"\n\nThe sound of gunshots echoed across the room. Within seconds, the bodies of the police officers laid scattered across the floor. Four men wearing suits and carrying Tommy Guns entered the room. \n\n\"We got em' boss,\" said one of the men to Cortez, who was still doing his Jazz hands. \n\nCortez then hit his big finish, and smiled at his men. \n\n\"Now that is what I call 'The ole' razzle dazzle'\"" ]	6
	[WP] Our world is actually a very comprehensive DND campaign. There's been some very unexpected rolls lately that have led to some... interesting circumstances. Pick a series of events, describe them, and include the table-talk.	[ "DM: So the crops are failing, and the farmer you've agreed to help says there's now a shitload of birds in the grasslands around the farm. What do you do?\n\nPlayer 1: I roll perception, what kind of birds are they?\n\n\\[Rolls 4\\]\n\nDM: You see a flock of massive wingless birds. They're ugly, brown and black. They make a growling-squaking noise. You think they're called Emus.\n\nPlayer 2: I declare war on the birds.\n\nPlayer 3: Wait, why?\n\nPlayer 2: It's my backstory. I was a WW1 artiliery officer. I know war, so to get rid of massive birds I go to war against them.\n\nDM: You sure? That's what you're going with?\n\nPlayer 2: Yeah. \\rolls D20\\\n\n\\[Rolls Nat 20\\]\n\nPlayer 1 & Player 3: Oh, shit!\n\nDM: Mother effer... Fine.\n\n\\[DM Makes some notes behind their screen\\]\n\nDM: Your pleas are heard by the government, and they agree that the birds are a menace. The emus are a serious threat, and to face them you'll need serious fire power. They give you two machine guns and a a jeep.\n\nPlayer 2: Fuck, yeah! Big guns, your turn.\n\n\\[Player 3 looks at their notes\\]\n\nPlayer 3: So I join in the emu war, and I volunteer for the first wave of attack.\n\n\\[Rolls 2\\]\n\nDM: \\sinister smile\\ The first wave fails horribly. The birds are too fast and too far away for the machine guns to be effective. All you do is waste ammo. \n\nPlayer 2: What the hell! Nothing happened? That's a load of crap! I just got us machine guns!\n\nDM: They rolled a 2. You're lucky the gun didn't blow up or something.\n\nPlayer 3: I'll take it. Just go.\n\n\\[Player 1 gets ready\\]\n\nPlayer 1: I go out on another expedition, this time I wait for the Emus to get close before I fire.\n\n\\[Rolls 5\\]\n\nDM: The new tactics work better, you manage to hit some birds, but not many. The gun jams before too many birds can be hit.\n\nPlayer 1: Okay. I'm wondering how the government feels about us using military tech to hunt a bunch of birds for some farmers.\n\nDM: Well, on your next turn you can ask about it.\n\nPlayer 2: Come at me bros! I Mount the guns on our jeep and hunt down the fuckers!\n\n\\[Rolls 2\\]\n\nPlayer 2: Why me?\n\nDM: You didn't factor in the terrain. The ground is too bumpy and the gun isn't accurate. You don't hit anything, but the jeep is fine.\n\nPlayer 3: I roll to check what the Government thinks of this?\n\n\\[Rolls a 10\\]\n\nDM: Okay, first okay roll of the Emu war. The government is aware the efforts are going poorly. The estimates range from 50 to 500 birds hunted down, but no one can say for sure. \n\nPlayer 1: So let me know what we can do. I roll to ask the government for more men and supplies.\n\n\\[Rolls 1\\]\n\nPlayer 1: Dammit...\n\nDM: The House of Representatives is reviewing your progress. While your numbers exist, they think your wasting time and money with a literal war against birds. The press is relentless against you. They decide to withdraw their support, and you lose reputation with them.\n\nPlayer 2: How the hell did that happen so fast?! That was like 2 turns?!\n\nDM: You all rolled like crap.\n\nPlayer 3: I don't feel like I did anything. Why did you declare war on birds? That farmer probably wasn't going to give us much.\n\nPlayer 2: I don;t know. I'm done. When's the next session?\n\nPlayer 1: My mom says we can play next Thursday if we want.\n\nPlayer 2: Fine, but we're revisiting this next session!", "\"Right then,\" said the DM, \"You are scanning for enemies when a young wounded German Soldier walks into your line of fire. He does not attempt to shoot you. Henry, what do you do?\"\n\n\"I lower my rifle.\"\n\nThe DM rolled the die and glanced at it for a couple of seconds. \"The soldier nods as a sign of thanks and keeps moving.\"\n\nSome time later\n\n\"The phone in your house is ringing.\"\n\n\"I don't pick up.\"\n\nThe DM rolled the die. \"You choose to stay seated. William answers the phone instead.\"\n\n\"Who was William again?\"\n\n\"He is a child that is related to your wife.\"\n\nThe DM rolled the die. \"William asks you to come to the phone.\"\n\n\"I tell him to tell them to leave a message.\"\n\nHe rolled the die again. \"William listens attentively to what they have to say, then relays what he hears to you. He says that a 'German man who you spared during the Great War' wants to thank you for doing so.\"\n\n\"Oh I remember that! Good reference to previous quests. I ask William to ask what the man's name is.\"\n\nThe DM rolled the die. He smiled. He sat in silence for a few moments, probably wondering how to proceed. When he made up his mind, he raised his head and faced the player. \"William does as you asked.\"\n\n\"So, what's his name?\"\n\n\"The German soldier you spared so long ago is named Adolf Hitler.\"\n\n-------------------------------\n\nThanks for reading, feedback and criticism is very appreciated\n\nr/WrittenText", "\"Okay, gang, you've boarded your flight from Newark, New Jersey to San Franciso, California. It's about 9:30am, and you're currently flying over Pennsylvania. Suddenly, several masked men begin to push their way from the back of the plane and shout in a foreign language.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I roll history to recognize it! How's a... 9?\"\n\n\"It sounds like it may be some sort of Arabic language.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"I speak Arabic, what are they saying?\"\n\n\"Mostly things like 'Glory to God' and 'My life for him'. While you're listening, they've pushed their way to the cockpit. Other passengers tried to stop them, but they brandished knives. Pilots, you can hear a commotion coming from beyond the locked door behind you.\"\n\nPilot: \"Is it the usual loud passenger commotion?\"\n\n\"Roll perception.\"\n\nPilot: \"15.\"\n\n\"This one sounds a little different. The passengers sound a little bit more panicked than usual.\"\n\nCo-Pilot: \"I'll go check it out. I get out of my seat and open the door.\"\n\n\"Upon opening the door, you are immediately stabbed by a masked figure, shouting in Arabic. How's a 24 to hit your AC?\"\n\nCo-Pilot: \"Well, I'm playing a commoner, so...\"\n\n\"You'll take 11 points of damage.\"\n\nCo-Pilot: \"Oh. Oh no. I'm unconscious.\"\n\n\"Passengers, you see the yelling masked men with the knives stab the co-pilot and enter the cockpit. Pilot, your compatriot has been slain behind you. Before you can process this, there are several men with knives in your cockpit, yelling at you, grabbing at you, stabbing at you. I need initiative.\"\n\nTerrorists: 22\nPilot: 14\nPassenger 1: 5\nStewardess: 3\nPassenger 2: 2\n\n\"When did we get a stewardess in here?\"\n\nStewardess: \"I just took over an NPC when you killed my Co-Pilot. I thought we were running an airline in this campaign so I made a commoner who can fly planes instead of fight people. If you're gonna pull this-\"\n\n\"Fine. You're a stewardess. It's the terrorists' turn. Pilot, they all lunge at you, trying to remove you from your chair. One sits down in your co-pilot's seat. I'm gonna need a contested acrobatics or athletics to escape that grapple.\"\n\nPilot: \"That'll be... a 14, 17 including modifiers.\"\n\n\"You're able to break free, if only momentarily. It is your turn.\"\n\nPilot: \"I run to the cockpit to rally the passengers. These guys only have knives and we outnumber them 10 to 1.\"\n\n\"You'll provoke OA, are you sure you want to do that?\"\n\nPilot: \"Absolutely. I rolled a 21 on my persuasion roll to inspire my passengers.\"\n\nrolls rolls again\n\"So, the passengers are terrified when you tell them what exactly has going on. They seem to erupt into more screams as one of the terrorists drives a knife through your chest, its bloody blade poking through your front ribs. You take 14 points of damage. However, it seems your being stabbed has galvanized the passengers to your cause. With that, it's passenger 1's turn.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I hold my action.\"\n\n\"To do what?\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"Save... everyone?\"\n\n\"You can't do tha-\"\n\nStewardess: \"I also hold my action to save everyone.\"\n\n\"Guys, you have to hold a specific action of something tangibly doabl-\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"I use my action to signal the readied passengers and crew to fight the terrorists!\"\n\n\"Alright, fine. Everyone, in conjunction, stands and rushes the front of the plane. The terrorists fight back, but... Y'know, action economy...\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"That's a real cop-out of a description.\"\n\n\"Ugh. The passengers all charge the terrorists, who begin swinging their knives rapidly and with the intent to kill. However, they can't quite cut down the massive human meat-wall rushing them. There are simply too many of you. It's your turn again, passenger 1.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I'd like to push past the terrorists and do a medicine check on the pilots. Will I provoke OA?\"\n\n\"No, they seem a little distracted with your peers. There's currently a stewardess trying to drive a high-heel into one of their eyes.\"\n\nStewardess: \"DAMN RIGHT, I AM. THIS MYYY PLAAANNEEE!\"\n\n\"Okay... roll that check.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"17?\"\n\n\"They are very clearly somewhere between bleeding out and completely dead. Without medical supplies, there's not much you can do. Stewardess, back to you.\"\n\nStewardess: \"I want to disarm them. Can I grab the on-board fire extinguisher as a free action?\"\n\n\"It is technically an interaction with an object, so... I'll go with yes.\"\n\nStewardess: \"Disarming attack with my fire extinguisher. That's 23 to hit.\"\n\n\"Um, how? You're a stewardess wielding a metal container. Even with a natural 20, how would you-\"\n\nStewardess: \"I was in Desert Storm before I became a stewardess. It's part of my backstory.\"\n\n\"No. No it isn't. Roll that again without any modifiers besides your strength score.\"\n\nStewardess: \"Still a 17.\"\n\n\"You successfully knock the knives from the hands of not just one, but somehow both armed terrorists. Their weapons clatter to the ground.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"My turn?\"\n\n\"Yessir.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"I pick up the knives and begin stabbing the terrorists.\"\n\n\"Alright, roll your attacks.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"You're not gonna believe this, boss, but I crit. Twice.\"\n\n\"The dice don't lie, and I can see those. In an amazing moment of cunning and bravery, you quickly snatch up the discarded knives and return them to their owners - about 5 inches inside their owners. The terrorists fall. The rest of the people on the plane begin to panic, no longer about the terrorists, but about the dead pilot and co-pilot. The realization sets in for you that no one is flying this plane.\"\n\nStewardess: \"DOES ANYBODY KNOW HOW YO FLY A PLANE?\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I can try, I guess.\"\n\n\"Roll... Do you have proficiency in air-vehicles?\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"Nope.\"\n\n\"Just roll intelligence to see if you can figure out what's going on.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"Woah, uh, 19.\"\n\n\"While it is not immediately obvious to you exactly how to fly this plane, you are able to extrapolate the new course of the plane. The terrorists seem to have turned it around. You are no longer headed for San Francisco. Instead, the nose of the plane now points at Washington, DC.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"And where are we now?\"\n\n\"Just above Sharpsburg, PA.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I realize this may kill us, but I can't let this plane hit the capital.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"Agreed.\"\n\nStewardess: \"DO IT!\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I grab the uh... handle... thingy... and jerk it straight up as violently as I can.\"\n\n\"The plane lurches forward, and you begin to plummet toward the ground.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"I... this...\"\n\nStewardess: \"Look at it this way: We'll die, but we beat them.\"\n\nPassenger 2: \"this is probably the best result of this scenario, to be honest.\"\n\nPilot (dead): \"I'd argue that a better scenario is one where I actually got to play.\"\n\n\"And so, your plane comes crashing down, at about 10:03, in Stonycreek township. There are no survivors. Years later, a monument is erected to the bravery you showed that day. Words cannot describe the gratitude and pride you brought to the american people by standing your ground and dying on your own terms. Your flight serves as a dark reminder that, though we may not always be the most dangerous, or the smartest, we will always win if the american spirit is in high enough quantity.\"\n\nPassenger 1: \"Alright, look, we're not gonna let you DM anymore if you're gonna keep framing great American tragedies as learning moments. It's preachy as fuck.\"", "\"Alright, so Trump, you plan to infiltrate the Republican party as candidate for the president. Roll deception\"\n\n\"I will make America great again.\" Rolls and checks die. \"That's a natural 20 and woth modifiers brings me to 21.\"\n\n\"But aren't you proficient and deception? Your proficiency bonus is +4, you really have a -3 charisma modifier?\"\n\n\"Yes, your point?\" \n\n\"Ok....\" \n\n\"Alright now that I am the candidate I roll to throw the election.\" \n\n\"Ok, roll deception.\"\n\n\"I got a -2.\" \n\n\"Alright a 2 is high-\"\n\n\"No, a NEGATIVE 2. I rolled a Nat 1\"\n\n\"Ok... You are now president of the United States... How........\"", "\"You have a force of 1,000 men at your command, but 300 are left behind in America due to lack of space.\"\n\n\"I knew we should've spent more gold on the boats. Fuck it. We march on the trails of San Juan.\"\n\nDM rolls\n\"What's your Passive Perception?\"\n\n\"Uh...9. Shit. Really wish I hadn't hurt my eye in my backstory.\"\n\n\"It's an ambush! The Spanish attack from all sides and are gunning your men down! Here comes their surprise round of combat and...lemme add this...dozens of your men are dropping already!\"\n\n\"Fuck! I use all my horse's movement and use an action to Dash for more.\"\n\n\"You manage to get away, but your soldiers are taking heavy damage. rolls Oh man, that's a lot.\"\n\nA little while later...\n\n\"Okay. It's 20 minutes after the ambush. Your second in command comes up and says, \"Sir, we've lost 200 men. We need to retreat and find a Colonel.\"\n\n\"'I am a goddamned Colonel.' Can I roll to Intimidate?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"rolls 18.\"\n\n\"The soldier silences himself as your men start to look towards you again. They're scared out of their minds and are in need of inspiration.\"\n\n\"Alright, I'm gonna roll Persuasion. 'I'm riding up this hill for America and I'll shoot any of you who run away. Follow me!' rolls Holy shit. With modifiers, that's a 21.\"\n\n\"Your men follow you immediately. Look, I hate to metagame, but are you sure you wanna do this?\"\n\n\"Theodore Roosevelt's nearly died plenty of times. One more can't hurt.\"\n\n\"Alright then. You charge on horseback towards the Spanish guns and rolls they miss. It's your turn.\"\n\n\"I use all my mounted movement and then Dash towards them again.\"\n\n\"C'mon man, you're just begging to roll a new character by now.\"\n\n'I don't think you understand. I'm Teddy Goddamned Roosevelt.\"\n\n\"sigh Alright, they fire again and...that's not even close to your AC. Jesus.\"\n\n\"Charge. Dash. Free action to yell at them with late 19th century lingo. I'm gonna call them rapscallions.\"\n\n\"They fire their guns again, all still within range and their best, most proficient gunners roll...a 7. Are my dice just stupider than usual?\"\n\n\"I roll to intimidate. rolls Twenty. Fucking. Four.\"\n\n\"deep, beleaguered sigh The Spanish are retreating. Even with bonuses from knowledge of the terrain and a surprise stealth round, they throw down their guns and head for the hills. I have no idea how you didn't die there.\"\n\n\"Because I speak loudly and carry a big dick...okay, I might revise that for next session. Whatever. Teddy Fucking Roosevelt.\"" ]	5
	[WP] As a joke you decide to put an ad in the paper saying there will be a party for time travelers on the night before you placed the ad. As a precaution you rent a small building for the night when you hear a knock on the door.	[ "\"Hello?\" I called, stopping from setting up the snack table. \"Who's there? That you Jack, or is it Dave?\"\n\nAnother rap on the door.\n\nSighing, I set down the bags of chips and walked to the door. \"Look guys, the party doesn't start for a few hours. Nothing's set up. If you're hungry, you're going to be disappointed.\"\n\nBefore there was another knock, I opened the door. A short man wearing a battered duster and baggy cargo pants stood, his fist hand-raised for another knock.\n\n\"Hey, who are you?\"\n\nHe adjusted his glasses, smiled, then coughed into his arm. \"I, uh... is this the Time Travelers' Party?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I nodded, \"but you're a bit early...\" my words trailed off, then I said, \"That doesn't matter, who are you?\"\n\n\"Early or late, time holds no weight for me. My name is Chester. May I come in?\"\n\n\"Uh...\" Chester began to move his way him, but I quickly stopped his path by moving in front of him. \"Look, wait, Chester— why're you here? At the party, I mean.\"\n\n\"Well, the advertisement said time travelers and I am one, thus it seemed obvious for me to come— albeit for a mild stay, for I have other jaunts to attend to.\"\n\nMy head began to reel. What the hell is this guy on about? Is he drunk? High? \"Look, man, whatever you believe you are is all fine and dandy but this party was a joke. Time traveling isn't real.\"\n\n\"But it is,\" he said, smiling.\n\n\"No it's not— it's been proven impossible.\"\n\n\"Presently, but not in the future.\"\n\n\"C'mon, don't be like that—\"\n\n\"I will prove it, if you insist.\"\n\nI looked over my shoulder at the half empty snack table, and the cooling beers in the large bowl of ice. There was a football game playing on the TV, and the clock hanging on the wall above read 8PM. The guys still had an hour to show up...\n\n\"Sure, prove it.\"\n\nHe took steps back into the hallway, lifting his jacket's sleeve, revealing a rusted copper watch. It had no numerals, but weird symbols etched into the white background. Chester spun a dial on its side, each spin ticking as if there were gears inside the watch, then pressed a little button on the other side of the watch face.\n\n\"Three—\n\n\"Two—\n\n\"One.\"\n\nI blinked and was standing in the hallway, a door closed in front of me. Glancing down both sides of the corridor, I found it empty.\n\n\"How'd I get out here...?\"\n\nI tried to remember but my memory was in a fog. I did remember the advertisement, and the party, but not the contents of either. After checking my watch, it showing that it was 7:45PM, I took a step forward and knocked on the door.\n\n\"Hello?\" a man's voice called from the other side.\n\n\"Hey, uh... can I come in, and use your phone? I think I'm lost.\"\n\n\"Apologies but you cannot. I am to host a party soon, and I do not own a telephone.\"\n\nI licked my lips, and pressed my ear to the door. \"Please man... I won't bother you, just need to call my roommate.\"\n\n\"No can do, sir. This is a special party and only those select individuals are allowed in.\"\n\n\"Maybe I'm one of those people!\"\n\n\"You are not, I can already tell.\"\n\n\"What kind of party is it then?\" I spat, walking away from the door.\n\n\"A time travelers' party.\"\n\n", "I thought it would be a kind of fun night. Me and some friends rented a larger hotel room down at the Hilton, and we decided to order some pizza and have some drinks. It was a fun night. We called it our \"time travel party.\" We even watched Back to The Future, and I thought more people would stay for the night, so I had the rest of the Back to The Future films, and The Butterfly Effect, even a few seasons of Quantum Leap to stream. But no one stayed. It was almost midnight and I was the only guy left. I figured no one would come in, and none of my friends would come back. I then saw the clock hit 11:59, and it was at that moment, I heard a knock.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hello?\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI heard the knock again.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hello? Is this the party? I'm hoping I made it to the right hotel\" said the voice. The man had a slight english accent that was light and airy, but not too proper.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Come in man. I know your probably joking Mark.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I'm not Mark. My name is David. \"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI then saw a man enter. He was wearing a dark suit that was a bit ill fitting on his thin frame, but his face was quite striking. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sorry i showed up a little late. I saw your ad. I'm actually visiting from 2048. But I saw this and I thought i'd have to show up. I'm kind of into this era. Love all the hipster clothes and stuff. I don't have a beard though, or moustache wax.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Dude who are you\" I asked. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Did you get hired by my buds or something. Are you that one guy. I think I totally have heard of you. You're the one English guy who Mark and John know up at the U. You're that one grad student. How'd they put you up to this?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Look, i'm not a grad student anymore. I'm telling you i'm from 2048. I'm on my vacation, and I thought i'd stop in. Also, I think its me who knows you. You're Jake Cordell aren't you?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Yeah, so you know my name? Okay. Anything else?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\" I know that you were born in Wichita, grew up in Omaha and that you've always loved physics. Also, I know that you've got a wi..... err um girlfriend named Leah and that you one time in college got to take a trip to CERN, and you told me you saw them working on a time machine.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy mouth was wide open. \"How the hell do you know that. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, and only my profs know about that. \"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\" Well you see you told me about all that. I don't want to ruin the future, but lets just say you're quite an influence on the world sir. Now, can I please have a beer. I'll take a PBR if that's okay. We don't really have that anymore. I hear you folks just love it.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Umm, I don't have any PBR. I have some other good stuff. Craft stuff from all across the midwest. By the way, how did you end up here?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Well I did travel though time. But that's all i can say. I don't want to mess anything up. Oh, and thanks for the beer. I must be going though. Hopefully there aren't time cops who'll get me for time traveling over the legal limit, heh?\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Okay. Well have a good night.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Okay.\" I still thought this guy was a fake. Sure he seemed to know a secret, but for all I know, it might not be that hard to find out. But just then, I heard something outside and looked out of the window. And what I saw was a man on a motorcycle to disappear into thin air, and he had on a dark suit. I then thought to myself that maybe all that was real. I guess i'll have to find out though." ]	2
	[WP] Once mankind perfected virtual reality, they chose it over their real one. Years passed and the world they used to inhabit has changed greater than they ever could imagine, not that they cared. One day, the wires of your headset short circuit, allowing you to return to reality.	[ "\"Captain, four starships have warped into the vicinity! They bear the sigils of the Moriana Sector.\"\n\n\"Agent Van, send a communication stream to identify the purpose of this intrusion.\" \n\nThe ship quaked violently.\n\n\"They're firing on our position!\"\n\n\"Rema, be ready to activate our secondary phase shields. Pollack, the response!\" \n\n\"Yes, sir!\" \n\n\"Is it war?\"\n\n\"Captain, a communication is being signaled.\"\n\n\"Patch it through, Van.\" \n\n\"This is Vice Admiral Logan of the Moriana Imperial Army. War were declared.\" \n\nThe communication ended abruptly. \n\n\"Captain, the Moriana ships are engaging heavy artillery and falling into a line formation!\" \n\n\"Shit, Rema, the phase shields. Now! Pollack, don't just sit there, blast them! Deidre, ready the warp gate!\" \n\nThe Moriana ships combined their lasers into a focal point. \n\n\"The phase shields aren't going to hold much longer!\" \n\n\"This technology...\" \n\nThe ship buckled under the continued pressure. The void of space turned a blinding red. CRASH! There was nothing left in the pitch \nblack. \n\n\"Van! Rema! Deidre! Pollack!\"\n\nSilence radiated back. \n\n\"Is this... what death is?\", The captain mused in the darkness. \n\n\"Why is there a breeze?\" \n\nA light below cracked the void. The captain's eyes drifted to it. He saw the outline of his torso and remembered. Patient 02412A removed the VR visor from his head. His eyes snapped closed to the blinding daylight. He slowly adjusted to the brightness while his body was oppressed by the cooling fans. He glanced around seeing the other patients still. An electric rip sounded above him and he realized. 02412A attempted to step out of his pod but stumbled unceremoniously onto the floor. It had been years since he used his legs. The smell of grass flooded his nostrils. He tilted his head up from his new vantage point. \n\n\"The facility... it's covered in overgrowth.\"\n\nHis heart swelled in fear, his brain paralyzed in inquisition. He turned to the wall of windows where the light pierced through and gaped at what he saw.\n\n\"It's...\"\n\nBANG! \n\nThe glass crashed over him as he buried his head in his arms. He heard a thud in front of him. A woman was kneeling on the floor breathing heavily. She glanced over to him and quickly scanned the room.\n\nShe grabbed her transmitter and relayed \"I found the signal. Only one.\" \n\n\"Who are you? What's happening?!\" 02142A exclaimed. \n\n\"Name's Lou. War were declared.\" She responded curtly. \n\n\"War with-\" BOOM \n\n\"No time! Can you stand?\" \n\n02142A struggled to right himself but couldn't manage to stand. Lou put his arm around her shoulder and lifted him up. An airship careened around the neighbouring buildings towards their position.\n\n\"What's your name, stranger?\" \n\nHe glanced at the code engraved in his arm. \n\n\"I'm 0214...\" pausing \n\n\"Charmed\" \n\n\"Gene.\" He stammered. \n\nThe airship pulled up through the volleys of gunfire and sonic blasts. \n\n\"Beam us up, Scotty.\" \n\n\"Call me Scotty one more time and I'm leaving you stranded.\" A voice echoed from her ear piece.\n\nGene found himself aboard the airship hunched over Lou. \n\n\"The vagrants tracked our biosignal. We won't last long if we stick around.\" \n\n\"Then let's kick it.\" Lou responded. \n\n\"Proceeding to kick it.\"\n\nThe airship began to whir and then let out a roar as it propelled forward at breakneck speed. ", "A jolt through my brain. Instant and insane. I was shaken awake as if an earthquake had happened. My soft reflection stared just as confused back at me. My atrophied limbs tried to reach for that reflection that looked back. Gaunt, ashen skin, parchment thin. A skeleton stared back. I could feel only the taut dryness of it stretching over me, over my limbs over who and what I was in the other realm. I was dashing, with an excellent body that was fit enough to run marathons and make love to my goddess of a wife for hours on end. We would go camping and whisper sweet nothings to each other under the stars. I had love: now all I have here is a ghost in a shell. \n\nIf I had woken up, maybe my wife did too. Wasn't there anyone manning these machines? Wasn't there someone who stayed behind? Wasn't there some martyr out there that was willing to live in in this shithole? There had to be. My gnarled hands knocked on the glass of the capsule, trying to yell but my vocal chords hadn't been used in so long, they rang without much hope. It was dark on the outside, with only faint glows of he machines running the other pods. I saw other faces, asleep in bliss with smiles broad. How I longed to be back in there. I did not want to face all this again. There's a reason why we retreated. There was a reason why we chose the machines over life: this was not life. This was a sham of what it's supposed to be. Everyone just wants to be happy, right? Why must we suffer to attain happiness? Where the hell was someone to let me out?", "The pods kept you alive, not healthy, so everyone woke up feeling groggy. Their bodies did age, but the pods made good work in slowing down the aging factor.\n\nInmediately after waking up, Josh first thought was going to Jessica, only to find out that he didnt knew where she really lived, or that she was who she said she was.\n\nJosh and Jessica had been married for over 7 years and had 2 girls; Lily and Sam.\n\nJessica had adopted the virtual world as the real one, and had no space in her mind for questions, while Josh always knew that they were in the virtual world. Josh loved her so much that he went along with it, since they werent going to go back to real world..Supposedly.\n\nJosh felt horrible at the though that her two daughters were gone. He kneeled down in the dirty and unkept floor of his old apartment. The sudden rush of real pain was too much and laid down and cried until his eyes where raw.\n\nIn the middle of the suffering, he looked to the wall and saw a picture that said \"Eveything is going to be Ok\" That thought lit a small flame in him, and it took him a while to remember what was the flame´s name.... It was hope.\n\nGrasping that hope, he got up from the floor and connected the pod to his old laptop. He was amazed to find that it still worked, even after 20 years in the virtual world. He looked out the window and it suprised him to find little vestiges of society still going.\n\n-¿How? - He thought -Wherent we all asleep? This shouldnt be possible!\n\nHe decided that he had more pressing problems and focused on searching for Jessicas address in the notebook.\n\nIt didnt take him long to find the address, he still kept the skills gained in VR, which included a lot of technology and hacking.\n\nHe tried to make himself as clean and presentable as possible, but with low water and dusty clothes, he looked more like a bum.\n\nLuckily, he Jessicas adress was not far from his apartment, but on his state it would take him long to get there. He saw many things on his trip there, people going crazy from over-stimulation, people crying over how beautifull everything was, people running naked. Josh didnt know if he was in heaven or in hell.\n\nWhen he finally got to Jessicas house, he founded her sitting in a chair beside the window, looking away into the horizon.\n\nShe was as beatiful in VR as in real life, the only difference was the scar on her neck where she had tried to kill herself when she was young.\n\nWithout looking at Josh, she said: - \"I dont want to live this life\"\n\n\\-Jessica.... - Josh said-... I know that real life was hard on you, but believe that things can be good.\n\n\\-How, Josh! - Jessica screamed- Here i can get sick and ....", "We do not speak his name for it is cursed. We call him the One. He arrived many years ago from the Old Ruins. He has many names and titles, some say he is madness incarnate, death and destruction given human form, bringer of monsters. Others call him a great builder, bringer of mechanical wonders, the life bringer. Still others extol his title of the mightiest eater of cheese. All agree that the One inevitably brings death and destruction wherever he goes.\n\nThe stories claim Old Ones were foolish, that they claimed to have perfected a better reality and whisked themselves off to an eternal slumber. Yet we know better, they must have sealed themselves to prevent the world from being destroyed by beings such as the One.\n\n\n\nHe arrived many moons ago, supposedly a scrawny tiny thing which clawed itself out of the Old Ruins. He was completely delusional, rambling about \"menus,\" \"character,\" and \"hard cord mode\", whatever they may be but I suppose that is to be expected after eons of undying sleep. A scavenger group had picked him up & made the unfortunate decision to raise him as one of their own (perhaps in hopes he would lead them to valuables of the old world).\n\nOver several moons the One would diligently perform a ritual of sorts without fail. He would lie face down on the floor and push himself up 100 times every day, flip himself on his back, pull himself up, and breathe out 100 times, then stand and squat 100 times, and run about a half of a Old Ruin block. During this time he apparently had an obsession with cheese, demanding all he could find.\n\nScholars believe the One was performing an archaic ritual to imbue himself with the power of the spirits. Pushing against the floor in an earth ritual, pulling himself up and breathing out to infuse himself with the air spirits, squat down to gain the favor of the fire spirits, and running to become one with the water spirits. Many have attempted the same ritual but all have failed.\n\n\n\nOne day the One stopped performing his daily ritual and proclaimed he must \"grind\". We did not know what to make of it but now know that the One meant he was going to grind all of us under his heel like bugs as we must all be inferior like ants to his eyes. In any case the scavenger group that had taken in the One was soon destroyed after the One embarked on a brutal campaign of leading the most terrifying wasteland creatures to civilization. When asked why he supposedly answered with a single word \"kiting\".\n\nIn any case the records are unclear from this point on as few survivors remain from the One's murderous rampage which left entire cities devastated as he led the worst monstrosities such as Neogis, Giffs, and even Tyrannohamstersaurus to city gate after city gate. This led to the death of the great Krag, the Warrior King as he attempted to protect his city from the threat brought by the One. The surviving cities would post sentinels to buy precious time for inhabitants to escape as his arrival, clad in the skin of monsters, running faster than humanly possible, would herald the coming of monsters. Some cities would attempt to attack him on sight although they always failed for his monster leather armor was impervious to our most powerful weaponry, even the strongest city gate would be battered down in a single blow. Eventually the most cunning of Kings, Eownr came upon a tentative solution after pouring through all known records of the One. He took to offering tribute in the form of vast amounts of cheese wheels which was the only known substance to pique the interest of the One while our finest coins of marble, obsidian, and even plastic did not even warrant a glance from the One. When offered a mountain of cheese wheels, the One would leave behind a mountain of monster meat and parts in return. Scholars believe it is due to some sort of honor code the Old Ones follow which states that in 1998, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and plummeted 16 ft through an announcer's table. (I can't do endings well. It was either this or warn people to run from his battle cry of Leeroy Jenkins.)\n\n", "Bob looks around, still a barren wasteland. As he fidgeted with his headset, he came to the conclusion this was it. He was no longer going to go back. Bob realized the reason his headset had snapped with because he jumped off that bridge in the other world. He jumped because he had done all that his imagination could muster He jumped because he knew even in a fantasy he wasn’t good enough. Bob fell to the floor and with his feeble arms crawled out to the new world. Excited and with open arms to greet a new experience, death.", "This is my first time trying a writing prompt so bear with me, hope you enjoy!\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBOOM! Bullets whizzed overhead as a mortar shell landed near Mark's unit's location. \"Oh come on! They're using kill streaks!\" Complained Robert after the second mortar shell landed nearby. \"Well we'll just have to do better then them\", Mark responded. He then popped out of cover to take a shot at a terrorist creeping up on the left flank. \"Hey! What the hell are you doing? Robert shouted. \"Were gonna get sniped if we peek them!\" \"Well if we stay here were gonna get hit by...\" Mark's retort was cut off by a mortar shell landing directly on their position. \"I'm done with this game! He shouted and selected exit to menu from the respawn screen. Mark then found himself in his virtual house, as any player did when they exited a game. Seconds later, he got a pop up message in the corner of his screen from Robert, \"Hey dude, why did you ragequit, come on, we could have had them! Do you still wanna play something?\" Mark just ignored the message and proceeded to walk around his virtual house. It wasn't much, but the small house that he bought for 10,000 credits was great for getting a little bit of rest before popping into another game or exiting into the virtual world. Getting credits to buy virtual things was easy for someone as skilled at games as Mark. \n\nNo one remembered the time when things were different, when things were real. Every one he knew was born into the virtual world with no memories of a past one. No one cared though. Being able to fly, spawn food, change one's appearance at will and never have to work for credits seemed pretty ideal to everyone. Hell, there wasn't even a government or laws since anyone could just do what they wanted in their own single player worlds. Yes, there were still a couple hackers, but anti cheat got them all eventually. No one ever even thought about the old reality. \n\nAfter conjuring himself a sandwich, Mark jumped on the comfy leather couch and started browsing the new games by looking into the top left of his vision. \"Hmm, what have we got here?\", he thought to himself as he saw a new game about multiplayer online mech suit battling. \"Might as well give it a try\" he said as he looked at the download and play game button and blinked to select it. He loaded into the tutorial, which was uninformative and boring as always. He started a multiplayer match and fought another mech in a 1v1. He was winning the fight and as he cockily thought to himself what a noob this other player was, everything suddenly froze. \"What is this?' Mark said, his voice shaking. Nothing moved. His mech suit just stood there in mid punch animation, the expression of anger on his opponent's face unchanging. Mark tried to move his hands and face, but nothing registered. As he slowly got more and more paranoid, everything went black. \n\nHe shot up from a laying position screaming. He then nervously looked around. \"Where in the actual hell am I?\" he said. Nothing was familiar. He appeared to be in some sort of escape pod, glass frosted with ice. No, it was a cryo chamber he realized. He then felt cold. Really cold. And he also noticed he had wires sticking in his head and the he really started freaking out. After a minute or so of confusion, he pulled the wires out of his head. Each one hurt, but he was finally free. His body sagged to the ground due to the massive atrophying that his muscles had suffered and fell asleep. He woke up again, still very cold, but now had the energy to figure out what was going on. He looked out his glass door and saw hundreds of cryo pods like his lining the wall opposite him. It was now that he realized that he just woke up form virtual reality into the real world. Like, the real real world he thought to himself. Curious, confused and cold, he tried pressing various buttons in his pod until, the glass glass door hissed and opened. He looked around again and noticed he was in a circular building with gray cryo pods everywhere with people inside them. He looked down and saw that his pod was three from the floor. Mark tried to climb down but his atrophied muscles failed him and he landed with a thud on the metal floor. He looked in awe as he saw the truly massive amount of people trapped in their pods. in this windowless gray building. He saw a door and decided to walk towards it. He opened it and was greeted by a hallway of bright lights. Then he heard the whirring sound of something behind him. He looked through the window in the door and saw a robot fly around, bringing what looked to be a newborn human to an empty cryo pod. Scared and clueless he ran down the hallway. He realize that he was in what used to be a maintenance tunnel. He didnt take any of the other doorways he saw until he came upon a doorway market exit. He then followed that tunnel until he was greeted by a strange door of light. He went through it and realized that now he was outside the building and in the real world. But the real world was nothing like the virtual world. The virtual world in between simulations was a sprawling neon cyberpunk paradise, with huge skyscrapers and multiple floors blotting out the sun, which was replaced by neon lights everywhere. But this, this was different. All mark saw for miles was asphalt, metal and giant buildings, much like the one he just exited, no doubt holding many more people trapped in virtual reality. And also trash. Trash everywhere. It looked like a landfill full of scrap parts with looming towers of metal every so often. \"Well what the hell do I do now\" Mark said aloud to himself. He heard the sound of gunfire in the distance and saw people shooting at something. With no purpose and nothing left to do, he started to make his way over on his weakened muscles.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI know its probably pretty bad, maybe someone will like it though, thanks for reading!", "\"How was work honey?\" Jack's wife asked.\n\n\"Good, darling.\" He answered between bites of meatloaf. \"The usual nine to five. Everything alright at the homestead?\"\n\n\"Just perfect darling.\" She answered giving me a smile. \n\n\"I'm glad to hear it.\" Jack smiled back. He looked at her gorgeous smile and perfect face. He furrowed his brow in bewilderment as he watched a small white circle appear on her forehead. The circle grew in size until it had covered her face. Her voice became thick and distorted, the circle still growing. Jack watched in horror as it engulfed his vision and the sweet sounds of the summer night were replaced by an ear shattering ring. Jack heard a loud crack and was left in darkness.\n\nRealizing he was awake, Jack gingerly removed his headset. The computer readout screen said that his headset had endured a catastrophic failure and would need to be replaced. Not wanting to think what that could mean, Jack nervously unhooked himself from the life support system and opened his pod. \n\nThe building was riddled with signs of age. Rebar showed through the cracked cement walls and dust piled in the corners. He wondered how long he had been in the virtual world, realizing he had lost count long ago. Was it years or decades? Centuries? The memory of the creators bragging that their pods could sustain life indefinitely came back to him. The long-winded explanations about cryogenics and REM sleep that he had ignored. Eventually Jack found the room where the excess headsets were stored. He took a new one from the box and turned it over in his hand. He placed it softly on a pile of dust that had found a home atop one of the office desks. Slowly, he approached the door marked exit. \n\nHe walked out into what he had believed would be sunlight. Dust and sand covered the buildings. All had been reduced to a gray wasteland. He listened to the piercing whistle of the grit as it flew carelessly over the carcass of the world. Jack took a nervous step back and heard a crunch. His heel had broken the bleached rib cage of a child-sized set of bones. \n\nJack wanted to re-enter the world he knew, the world that he had grown to love. What's more, he wanted to forget that this other world existed. His chest pounding, he turned to re-enter the building. Half turned towards the door, he stopped cold. A small pair of eyes stared out at him beneath a veil.\n\nJack looked at his unlikely companion. He stood half as tall as Jack and seem unperturbed by the dust storms. Jack gave a short wave and the being disappeared. Jack gave one look back into the virtual reality warehouse and ran after the alien man. \n\nThe being moved nimbly through the dust while Jack plodded along clumsily. His legs were weak and felt awkward after being ignored for so long. Of course, the vr's automatic muscle stimulater kept him in shape, but it did not prepare him for their use. The alien ducked into a building and Jack followed after.\n\nA loud clang alerted Jack to the fact that he was trapped. A guillotine like door had been dropped after he had entered the building, leaving him in pitch blackness. A discordant song arouse from the inky dark. Soon torches were lit and Jack could see into a ring of the child-like creatures. Removing their veils, Jack could see they were no children but were barely men at all.\n\nMany were pock-marked or covered in scabs. Few had both eyes and he could find none that were free of mutations. An extra arm here, no nose on another. All were showing some signs of illness and none were taller than Jack's waist. The mutant with the most ornate dress and fewest physical deformities stepped forward into the lit ring. Jack could see no signs of disease until the being spread his arms wide and opened his cloak. In the mutants chest sat a second small arm that curled and tensed on its own accord.\n\n\"Hear me now my children! A Big One had returned from the great beyond!\" The evident leader began. \"He will return us to glory and to salvation as it had been told!\"\n\nJack stood silently, scanning the room and peering into awe-struck eyes of the mutants. \n\n\"What have you to say, Big One? Shall you lead us to glory as was promised to us?\" The mutant cried, rattling his staff.\n\n\"I... I don't know.\" Jack whispered, barely audible.\n\nA gasp rose up from the crowd. Angry murmuring began, followed by bitter cries. \n\n\"No, no, I just mean, I don't understand.\" Jack said desperately.\n\n\"What ails you Big One?\" Asked the elder mutant. \"What leaves you questioning us?\"\n\n\"I just... who are you? And what do you want me to do? What year is it?\" Jack asked, feeling cold sweat appear on his forehead. \n\n\"It has been 50,936 sleeps since the dust began.\" The elder replied confidently. \"And 49,785 days since the last Big One went to the great beyond, promising they would return to guide us on.\" The elder finished, narrowing his eyes.\n\n\"What is the great beyond?\" Jack asked. Shocked cried arose from the crowd, the unrest growing until Jack was sure the circle was closing in around him.\n\n\"Silence!\" The elder commanded. A few angry murmurs died reluctantly and the elder spoke again. \"The great beyond is the mind-world where the Big Ones escaped to after the great fire. They sleep in giant metal eggs where their minds are free to escape to the great beyond. The eggs are unable to work on we low folk because we are impure. The great eggs' cannot peer into our minds like they can the big folk. It was promised to us that the Big One's would return to bring us with them on their journey so that we may escape this world as well.\"\n\nJack understood. \"Oh. Yes. Yes! I have returned to guide you back to the great beyond!\"\n\nThe room cheered frantically, joy and relief washing over the mutated crowd. The elder fell to his knees and offered a deep, rumbling prayer. Jack looked around anxiously. The crowd formed in front of him, waiting for him to move. Jack turned on his heels. \"Open the gate!\"\n\nJack and his wayward caravan plowed through the dust. Finally, they returned to the building where Jack had come from. Stopping at the door, he turned round to address the crowd. \n\n\"I shall return soon to guide you all back. Until then, do not enter this holy site, lest you be damned to wander this world eternally. Keep faith and I shall return!\" Jack yelled with open arms. The crowd cheered in excitement as Jack entered the building and shut the door. \n\nThey still cheered as Jack wedged a stick of rebar into the door. They cheered as Jack grabbed a headset and ran back to his open pod. The last thing Jack heard before he sealed off his pod was their cheering.\n\nJack's wife made the best meatloaf. ", "######[](#dropcap)\n\n\"Kayla, I-\" \n\nLucas was just about to apologize to his long-time friend for his bullish behavior when the screen turned black. He waved his hands in front of him, but he couldn't see anything. \"Hello?\" he asked into the nothingness. But there was no response. \n\nLucas finally reached for his headset, fumbling with it for a while before he finally got it to un-click. He hadn't had to take this shit off in ages.\n\nHe looked over the headset. What the hell? What was wrong with it anyway? \n\nThe dim lighting of his bedroom came into view, and he almost didn't recognize it. It had been years since he'd last come out of the simulation. In fact, as far as he knew, it had been years since anyone had last come out of the simulation. \n\nAfter seeing nothing visibly wrong with the helmet, he sighed. He was going to have to take it to headquarters to get it fixed. He sat on his bed, gazing at the VR pod, then around his room. It was all so unfamiliar now. The clothes piled high on the floor. The flickering lamp on the bedside table. And...his gaze landed on the window and something caught his eye.\n\nHe walked towards the window, his footsteps heavy. And...a jungle creeping into his backyard. He took a step back. That wasn't right. Trees had grown where there had definitely been none before, their leaves blocking a good portion of his view from his window. But from what he could see, what should have been sprawling suburban streets had been overrun by nature, giving it a derelict look that reminded him of the apocalyptic scenes he'd seen in old zombie shows. \n\nHe bit his lip. A sense of unease stole over him as his gaze flicked towards the setting sun. But the helmet needed to be fixed. So he quickly changed, grabbed the helmet, and headed out. \n\nThe streets were completely silent and overrun by potholes and all sorts of plants that sprouted through the cement, cracking the pavement. Not a single soul was out and about. The streets had been getting emptier for years, but it was the first time he'd seen them completely empty. \n\nLike a ghost town.\n\nA chill crept up his spine, and Lucas couldn't help but look back every couple of steps. Maybe it was his imagination, but it felt like something was following him. \n\nHe walked faster. The HQ was only a mile away, and he could be there easily within fifteen minutes. \n\nEvery few paces, he glanced back, but there was always nothing. He sped up the pace, glancing back, the feeling getting stronger and stronger, no matter how many times he looked back. \n\nUntil he bumped into something and fell over. \n\n\"Oof,\" he said, rubbing his head. \n\n\"You okay?\" A hand appeared in front of him, and he took it. \n\nHe looked up, then blinked. \"Kayla! I was just about to talk to you!\" \n\nShe raised her eyebrows and crossed her hands over her chest. \"You were?\" \n\n\"I was about to, uh...\" Lucas ruffled the hair on the back of his head in embarrassment, \"apologize to you. I was really an asshole, and we were best friends, and I shouldn't have ditched you just to get higher in the leaderboard. Those guys I'm hanging with are assholes.\" \n\nKayla's eyes softened. \"Apology accepted,\" she said quietly. \"Anyways, what are you doing out here?\" \n\nLucas waved around the helmet in his hand. \"Helmet short-circuited. You?\" \n\nShe lifted her own. \"Same.\" \n\nThere was a brief moment of silence. He hadn't talked to her in so long, and he had so much to say. \"You wanna walk to HQ together?\" \n\n\"Yeah.\" \n\nSo they walked side by side. And at first, Lucas resisted the urge to look back, but the feeling of someone's eyes on him grew stronger and stronger until he finally turned around. \n\n\"Why do you keep doing that? Turning around?\" Kayla looked at him inquisitively. \n\n\"Oh.\" He thought he had been pretty discreet about it. \"Um...do you get the feeling that we're being watched?\"\n\nKayla turned around too and scanned the forested area behind them. \"You're probably just being paranoid because we haven't been out for so long. How long has it been since you've left the Sim? God, for me it must have been like five years already.\" \n\n\"Same,\" Lucas said, but he wasn't really focused. \n\nLuckily, the HQ came into view above the treetops, like a pillar that spiraled upwards into the sky. The entire facility had been designed to be one giant satellite antennae, and it broadcasted the signal to all the players nearby. The outside was completely made of glass, and it glowed almost orange in the light of dusk. In short, it was marvelous. \n\nKayla opened the double doors and walked in. Lucas was about to walk in when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He whipped around, just in time to see a shadowy figure flash towards the trees. But it didn't look human. In fact, its run looked more like a lope on all fours. But there was no way it was a wolf or coyote either. It was way too big. Human sized. And it looked like it had giant claws. \n\nLucas backed up until he bumped into the doors. \"Kayla! Did you see that?\" His voice came out as more of a squeak than anything. Kayla opened the door inwards, and he nearly fell in. \n\n\"What? What did you see?\" \n\nLucas pointed towards the trees. \"That. It looked human. But also not.\" \n\nKayla patted his back. \"You're probably imagining things. Come on. Let's get this over with quickly. I still have an arena battle coming up in like an hour.\" \n\nMaybe Kayla was right. The creature had looked eerily similar to Gorgs in game he was playing. Maybe he was just projecting. The thought immediately made him feel better. \n\nThey walked up to the front desk, where a woman sat there staring at her monitor, looking bored. \n\n\"Helmet repair?\" she asked. \n\nKayla nodded. \n\n\"Third floor.\" \n\nThey took their helmets to the repair shop, where a grizzled old man looked them over, his brow furrowed. \"There's nothing wrong with your helmets.\" \n\nLucas blinked. \"What do you mean there's nothing wrong? They short-circuited. The screen's completely black.\" \n\nThe old man glared at him. \"Are you the expert here, or me? I said there's nothing wrong with them.\" \n\nKayla was more diplomatic in her approach. \"Can you figure out what's wrong?\" \n\nThe old man snorted. \"Of course. It's my job. Let me pull up your info. What are you pod ID's?\" \n\nKayla rattled off a series of numbers, and Lucas followed suit. \n\nThe old man's fingers flew over the keyboard, his gaze fixed intensely on the monitor. Then the sound of keys clacking suddenly stopped, and he frowned. \n\n\"What's wrong?\" Lucas asked. \n\n\"It's not your helmets,\" the old man said. \"It's your pods. They're completely offline.\" \n\nKayla's brow furrowed. \"What do you mean offline?\" \n\n\"They've been disconnected somehow.\" He typed something more. \"Electrical outage. I'll pull up the cameras of your setup.\" \n\nEach VR pod came with security cameras to ensure people wouldn't tamper with each others. The Sim had become so real to people that they would do anything to get ahead, and the security cameras ensured sabotage didn't happen. \n\nLucas bit his fingernails as he watched the old man cycle through footage. Then a funny look came over the old man's face, and he turned his monitors over to them so they could see as well. \n\nLucas's blood froze. \n\nOn screen, a shadowy figure lunged at the cords and ripped them apart, jumping back when the sparks flew out. Then it loped away. It had almost human-like features. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd claws. \n\n****\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, I've actually written one with a similar premise about a boy who dies in a VR pod [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/AlannaWu/comments/8b0wvi/wp_you_die_in_a_virtual_reality_pod_and_now_your/)!\n\nr/AlannaWu\n\n", "I stared down my quarry. A red mountain dragon. I would put it down and reap the rewards the villagers offered. I am a warrior. No I am the warrior. Nothing will stand in my...\n\n“Ow!”\n\nI took the headset off, and it required more than a little bit of effort.... after all I haven’t used my arms in years. I think we are born in our VR worlds. Some people participate in multiplayer servers, others choose or are forced to live where they can only interact with AI. \n\nStruggling to make my way to the door, I’m struck by the lack of background music. At least it’s not suddenly intense while nothing seems out of place, am I right?\n\nI open the door to see... well see is the wrong word, I opened the door to be entranced by a sprawling forest. In the simulation there’s a low poly line of sight model, but I can see detail for miles. I stare at this beautiful landscape for what seems like hours when I finally get a tap on the shoulder...\n\n“Prisoner 7p65a13-4, its time to return to your cell”\n\nCell? Prisoner? Whatever number he just said?\n\n“I’ve never done anything wrong!” I protest.\n\nThe guard looked at me strangely, perhaps pity in his eyes? “You’re entire family lineage has been sentenced to exile from reality. Your forefathers couldn’t be trusted with the environment and it was decided that you would be removed. I suppose fortunately for you rather than mass executions, these simulations were created.”\n\nI knew they were simulations... but I thought they were just better than our crappy world. Staring past the guard through the open door, the lush forest begging to be explored, I ask “How many of us still live outside?”\n\nThe guard cocked his head unnaturally to the side. “Humans? None, what part of entire lineage did you miss?” headset powered up again. Again I stood on the edge of a mountain. The dragon below, waiting for the cool steal of my blade.\n\n“What have we done?”", "Miles and I were rocking the adrenaline, but at the sandworm roundabout, I noticed the first glitch. We'd been maintaining a tenuous lead over a podracer, who was all sorts of ego. I'd figured it was some power-leveler who saw our pixelated model and thought: easy money. Exactly our hustle. But with every sharp turn, the pilot kept plowing through the dunes full speed. Plumes of digitized dust whipped into the air. To be honest, it was pretty sick. The tension was sending my modules into overdrive. \n\nBut as Miles strafed into another turn, the worm glitched. The dune rumbled, just like normal, but when the worm burst through the sand, it just...froze. Its mouth gaped towards the sky, razorblades shining, ready to crunch unsuspecting douchebags, but there was no familiar death screech. \n\nThere went my buzz. \n\n\"The hell?\" I screamed over sandstrewn wind. \"Did they patch Space Forza? I swear that thing's supposed to lurch.\"\n\nMiles was smiling ear to ear. Grime streaked from the corners of his squinted eyes. \"Hell yeeea--,\" He shouted. \"Did you -ee that? Podrac-- bit the dust!\"\n\nI frowned. Every last drip of my adrena had filtered out of my system. The podracer's twin engines still gleamed through the grimy rear window of the buggy. \"The hell are you on about? He's still on our tail.\"\n\nOur buggy blinked. \n\nSuddenly, instead of winding through the rockfall cliffs, we were rounding the corners on the village of the sandsnakes. \n\n\"Ah shit. Am I desynced?\" I waved my hands in front of Miles's face--to no reaction at all. \n\nMy heart sank. \n\nNo sync, and all today's winnings were moot. 24 hours of grinding fools for naught. Hell, I'd have to submit a help desk ticket and wait for the troubleshoot. I'd be out of commission for up to a week. My credits couldn't take that sort of hit. I had two boosted graphic cards to pay for. Not to mention the gigs of mem I'd missed payment on last month. Without this week's haul, I'd lose access to my chem boosters, emotion enhancers, even the adrena-shots. \n\nI'd be back in the stone age. \n\n\"God damnit!\" I said, slamming my fist onto the buggy console.\n\nExcept, I didn't make contact. \n\nMy gloved fists were vanishing in thin air. \n\nMiles stared at me, a look of horror gripping his features. \"Wha--...--ng...Dude...the fu--?\"\n\nAt first I thought, seriously? I paid for these gloves outright. \n\nBut then I saw bits of my own skin crumble. Wisped away, like bits of fire in the air. \n\nThe sensory module I'd spent too much on whirred to life in my ear. White hot pain shot up the length of my arm. \n\nI screamed at Miles: \"Dude, help me!\"\n\nAnd then everything went black. \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\nA wide eyed girl with cropped blue hair was inches from my nose. \"Shhh,\" she said, hand pressed firmly to my mouth. \"For the love of god, don't make a sound.\" \n\nMy eyes whirled in their sockets. Sunlight streamed through iron rafters. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance. I was in a warehouse of some sort. Rusted and dilapidated. All around me were people, sleeping, hooked to their VRs. \"Wharm th- furmk im goim om?\" I mumbled. \n\n\"Shhhh, you'll be alright, just keep quiet,\" the woman said again. Her breath smelled like coffee. The grimy bandanna on her forehead looked slick with sweat, and there was a quivering excitement behind her hazel eyes. From somewhere behind her, a man whispered: \"I can't believe it worked.\"\n\n\"You gonna let the poor kid up?\" asked another. \n\nI managed a glimpse at the rest of her group. Two pointy-faced men stood, patting eachother on the shoulder. Which was harder for one than the other, seeing as one was nearly two heads taller. Beside them, shaking her head in disbelief, was an older woman missing an eye. When my gaze passed over her, she smiled. Dirt and grime caked their faces. They were all decked out in tattered leather. Not an inch of them appeared to be digitized. \n\nAdrenaline rocked my system for all the wrong reasons.\n\nHoly shit.* I'd been yanked from the grid. Defaulted to reality. \n\nThe group of defaulters just kept looking at me and smiling. The two men couldn't help but murmur to themselves. \n\n\"Quiet,\" the blue haired woman hissed. \"Don't you hear it?\"\n\nThe group stood stock still. \n\nI whimpered beneath the woman's hand. \n\nAll I could hear was the creaks of the warehouse and the chirps of the birds. Every twist of the breeze was just reaffirmation that my life had been ruined. \n\nSuddenly, everyone went pale. \n\nI hadn't heard anything unusual, but the group looked to the blue-haired woman with wide eyes. \n\nShe shot up like a bullet.\n\n\"Hey!\" I said. But nobody paid me any mind. \n\n\"Pres, take the kid,\" the woman said. The larger of the pointy faces nodded. \"Ren, the horses.\"\n\nEveryone began scrambling, packing up backpacks with ancient gear, rushing around as quietly as they could manage. From the far end of the warehouse, a dog barked like mad. \n\nI tried to slide out of my seat, but my legs felt incredibly weak. Instead, the large dude ambled towards me, scooped me up and slung me over his shoulder. As he did so, the barking at the far end of the warehouse was cut short by a yelp. \n\nA solitary moment of silence followed. \n\n\"Let's get the hell out of here,\" the blue haired woman said, voice suddenly shaky. \n\nIt didn't take an analyzer to gauge the fear in their eyes. \n\nI imagine my own eyes looked much the same. \n\nWhen I was still plugged, I'd splurged on all the enhancers. Emotions ripped through my digitized veins so fast I'd nearly lose feeling in my toes. I'm talking the sort of stuff that nearly made you feel your own heartbeat. It was an addiction. The very cusp of VR technology. Miles and I craved that magnificent high. \n\nAs they hauled me through that dilapidated warehouse, I was so scared my throat nearly closed up. \n\nAdrena-shots. \n\nMenta Modules. \n\nNone of them held a candle to the real thing. \n\n\n-------------\n\nEdit At work at the moment, but this story will grow into a few parts over at r/M0Zark\n\nAppreciate the interest! & I hope to see you there :) \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	10
	[WP] Aliens attack earth only to be fended off by the wildlife.	[ "Gorgonax struggled landing his ship on this planet, the winds were fierce and the atmosphere was as dense as the heavy gases in the mines of Blutulor-5 but his crew were salty. Not a green-horn among them. \n\nThey were the best of the best. Cromulan Death-stalkers. The finest soldiers ever to have graced the galaxy. But nothing could have prepared them. \n\n\"Death-stalkers!\" Gorgonax roared. \"Disembark and bring glory to Cromula!\"\n\nThere was a resounding, \"AH-WHOO\", as the soldiers checked their gear and began to drop out of the craft. \n\nAs they fast marched out into this new planet's atmosphere to set up a perimeter and establish a command zone, a noise began to reach them. To their unaccustomed ears, it sounded like a roar. \n\nBoots the tabby cat had found them. The Death-stalkers didn't stand a chance as Boots batted them around before eating them one by one. He was purring as he sauntered back into the house from the Johnson's back yard. " ]	1
	[WP] You're immortal, today is your 1000th birthday.	[ "“Mmm, yes, you can come in whenever you’d like. Yep, I’m free all day. No. Uh huh. Alrighty. Have a good day!”\nLysandra sets the phone down with a sigh. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m in demand with the regulars too, you know.”\nI blink. “I...actually hadn’t known that. What do you tell them?”\nShe shrugs. “You’d be surprised as to how few of them ask questions about things like this. But,” she says with a grin, “we aren’t talking about them.”\n“Right, right,” I chuckle. \n“So, the big one-zero-zero-zero. What are you thinking about doing?”\n“I’m not thinking anything too big. Not too many pals, if you know what I mean.” \nShe does. “No, I totally understand. Any normal folks you planning on having over?” \n“Mm, likely not. You know the crew I hang around with, they’d kill me for real.”\n“Ooh, yes I do,” she says, giggling a little. “I tell you what. If you want me to do the 1025 I’ll keep it low-key, but you’re never gonna be a thousand again! You will absolutely regret not doing something huge in a few hundred years, I’m telling you.”\n“Did you do something big for a thousand?” I ask. \n“Shit, girl, of course I did! You know I’d be blacklisted if I didn’t! I was out of Olympus in two hundred years, business was booming by then.”\n“What kind of people did you have?”\n“Oh, whoever I could! Hah, I was so new on the actual social scene that I took anybody who turned up! Ugh, I cannot wait to be four thousand, it’s going to be incredible.”\n“What would be the absolute best I could do, guest list wise?” \nShe hums for a moment, counting briefly on her fingers. “Well, The Middle Man is an absolute must for a high end list, but he never shows up anywhere, I swear. Other than that, probably Michael (the angel? You know? Yeah.), a couple of vampire socialites (I personally would go for Law Lloyd, but maybe that’s just because he’s cute), I know a few bigwig demons I could drop an invite to, maybe some in-the-know human politicians? JFK just got the big reveal, and human presidents are in fashion right now.”\n“Um, I have to be honest, I know none of those people besides Michael.”\nLysandra visibly deflated. “Oh, um? I honestly can’t believe you don’t know who The Middle Man is, he’s, like, ancient and ultra famous. Whatever, he probably wouldn’t respond anyway.”\nI don’t go to protest, since I know it’s true, but my face must look sour because she barrels on. \n“No, not like that! He’s just really old and absolutely legendary for being super sour and lame. He didn’t even show up to his ex-wife’s party.” Lysandra looks oddly scandalized for something so completely common in the human world. \nI don’t really know what to say. When I had asked one of my few long-lived friends who to go to for a party, he had instantly given me a reference to Lysandra Louise Walker in London for event planning. I can now see why that is. \n“So, list,” she says, snapping her fingers.\nI hand over the list of names and contacts I had written out before, and she scans over them briefly. \n“Oh, if you’re involved with Apollo I definitely wouldn’t go anywhere near him.” She scratches a line through the offending name. I’m almost tempted to ask, but I think I have heard something about them before. \n“Is everything else okay?”\n“Mmm...yes. Give me a theme and a date. I’ll have everything done as soon as you need it.”\nI give her a look that she seems to understand. 3,000 years must go far for reading people. \n“Oh, you poor thing. Themes aren’t as big as you think they are. I’m going to choose for you, you’re worthless at this,” she huffs, throwing her hands onto her desk with a dramatic thump, “I’ll surprise you. Now, date.”\n“April...eleventh?”\n“Ooh, you don’t sound certain. You know better than me, though.”\nI nod shakily. This meeting has been far stranger than I originally expected. \n“Well, you’re free to go, darling. Have fun out there, and don’t forget to recommend me to friends!” \nI leave that room faster than I ever have anywhere else, much to the amusement of the woman at the front desk. Happy birthday to me, I suppose. " ]	1
	[WP] The final digit of pi has been found.	[ "He thought it impossible. Pi was an irrational number without end. Just a sequence of numbers none repeating anywhere. But there it was. \n\nThe computer screens, all 100 of them were filled with an impossible number of digits. They were designed so that when the last screen filled up, the first one emptied and began to fill again, and this happened in sequence from one screen to the next, for what had been 20 years.\n\nHe made sure to keep several CPUs running. So, he could install upgrades without interrupting the output of pi being generated. \n\nHe wanted to see how accurately one could compute pi. The longer the time the more accuracy. The applications would be endless.\n\nHe didn't expect what happened next.\n\nThe last screen started filling with digits at the same pace as the others, but something happened. They stopped. With just one digit space to spare before filling up the screen everything stopped. Everything. Even the clock on the wall. \n\nHe couldn't believe what just happened. The last digit of pi had been discovered. He stared at it in bewilderment. The number 4. \nAll he could do was stare though. Everything had stopped. Even the clock on the wall. " ]	1
	[WP] You're woken up by the buzzing of your phone. Your sister has just told you the sun has been just been blocked out and demons are rising from the ground. The apocalypse has begun.	[ "-What are you even talking abo...pyp\nThe call ends abruptly. Still confused i take a look at the time and its just 1a.m. it's dark, no screams in the streets... \n-Ahhh. \nI make a loud noise while stretching, and go back to bed whilst thinking what my sister is smoking. As i slowly pass on to the abbys i hear a voice. It's a voice, atleast i think it is. I can hear it. But it's inside my head, and it sounds familiar! I can slowly start to recgognise some words, and i think... that's my sistsers voice. I remembered what she said, i jumped out of bed. Once i land on my feet, it shouted.\n-JACK!!\nI stopped. That's my sisters voice. I am your sister i think to myself. But wait, thats not my thought, who is this inside of my head??? I can't stand anymore it's like ive got drained of all the energy i had storted inside of me. I drop down, as i feel helpless my sisters voice bursts out of my head... Jack ive been killed, ive been murdered by our mom, shes a demon Jack, you have to run. If she kills you, you'll become a demon too. Im holding it back Jack!!! Please run! A rush of energy vibrated through my body and i stood up and ran as fast as i could, on my way out the house i noticed that the moon was still there, but so was the sun. All black. It's real i thought to myself as i look back at the doorway. She's there... i gasped. As i close my eyes, i opened them here. Look underneath your bed, i'm here and the sun is blocked out.\n\n", "An obnoxiously loud ringing breaks through my well earned Saturday morning slumber after a quality blackout binge drinking session. Seriously even the bartender was cheering me on, though possibly may have been a ploy to wring my wallet which probably worked more well than he had anticipated... that sneaky fuck! That aside the ring was familiar, yet slightly higher pitched than your average clock alarm, nonetheless it directed my attention towards the window curtains as I cast a glance across the room.\n\n“Fuck. It’s got to be like 4am”, I grumbled shaking away the sharp headache from the alcohol. The phone kept emitting the headache amplifying sound as I grabbed it and read the following message displayed on the glaringly bright led screen “APOCALYPSE WARNING. EVACUATE”, blankly staring at the screen before rubbing my eyes and slowly re-evaluating my Friday night decision of trying to break the Guinness world record for most pints downed in one sitting.\n\n“What in the holy fu-“, my last sentence cut off by the brutally high pitched screaming coming outside my room as it was being kicked in, redirecting all of my attention from the fuckery that was displayed on my phone to my frantically panting sibling.\n\n“Alex! The ducking sun is gone!”, yelling as loud as humanly possible practically stunning me for a few seconds. “The fuck are you prattling on about Alice? Experimenting with shrooms? I thought I told you to start with the lighter drugs-“, I said before she so rudely spoke over me as I was trying to enlighten her. “Look out the window! The sun is gone you baboon!”, she yelled still refusing to use profanity as the goody favorited child she always was. I pulled the curtain revealing the darkened concrete jungle decorated with what seemed to be a permanent eclipse in the sky.\n\n“Wow...”, I proclaimed at awe of the sight, “Did you feed me the leftovers of your shrooms?”, asking staring at my sibling anticipating more visual distortions as she glared at me. “Alex. I can assure you that there is no chance in hell-“, she was retorting as the ground starting rumbling and fissures forming around the city violently thrashing the innards of our humble apartment building that had been listed on Craigslist for a few years being blacklisted as “haunted” I mean could you believe that they thought a ghost could keep me away from a $600 apartment rent - (insert demonic demon screech) “FUuUUuuuUCK!!!!!!!”, I screeched as the shattering war cry erupted as the building listed rightwards.\n\nAlice now in a fetal position ugly crying at intensity so fierce that I could feel my face muscles cramping, but then she stopped. Moving, crying or even breathing. She, just stared at the window behind me. I look back only to be met with what looked like the offspring of a minotaur and a griffin with jet black wings and a distorted face. “Fuck.”, I managed to mutter as it motionlessly hovered as if to incite dread in me and Alice.\n\n“Run.”, I grunted, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” I bellowed at my sister as the monster let out another deafening war cry as I steeled what was left of my pride and courage after slightly, just slightly spoiling my favourite pair of pants.\n\n———-\nFirst prompt since I was feeling bored and a bit inspired to do something\n\nCriticism appreciated formatting may be weird as typed from a phone." ]	2
	[WP] You are a cat scientist disguised as a dog recording your observations in a log book	[ "EXPERIMENT LOG DAY 1\n\n Scientist with code name Meow investigating effect of canine looks on \"homo sapiens\". In morning, Meow was given a bowl of a few brown spheres. Impossible to digest. Analyzed to be canine supplements. During noon, Meow was expected to \"go for a walk\". Meow reluctantly obliged to fulfill disguise. Homo sapien sped up and Meow had trouble keeping up. Homo sapien grew suspicious, and Meow had to activate secret research weapon #3A \"puppy eyes\". Was successful. During afternoon, Meow was tempted to hide under bed. Homo sapien greatly confused. Meow almost lose cover as Meow stole a yarn ball. Used research weapon #10B \"bark\" to simulate canine sounds. Sapien moved shoulders up and down and proceeded to sit down and glance at a glowing rectangle. During night, sapien dragged Meow to building made for canines. Meow dug into the dirt but was unable to prevent sapien from chaining Meow to the house. After desperate use of weapon #10B again, sapien came back, brows furrowed, and allowed Meow back into the house. Day ended as the sapien allowed Meow to sleep with them.\n\nResults: No obvious conclusion yet, however, Meow can safely say she does not want to be a canine." ]	1
	[WP] You work at hero affairs, helping protagonists adjust to normal life after saving the world.	[ "Sat in front of me was a young man in a purple jumpsuit, cloaked in a cape of dreams and wearing a domino mask of infinite vision. His eyes were dead.\n\n\"Alex?\" I asked for the fourth time. \n\nHe blinked and turned to me, quickly apologizing. I couldn't tell if he was observing some strange occurrence from across the universe or just staring into space (so to speak). It was clear he hadn't shaved or showered in a few days. I wasn't even sure he'd eaten anything since the adventure. Or if he needed to eat anymore. You'd never have guessed that this was the man who saved the entire world just a week before. I sighed.\n\n\"Alex, please. Just a few simple questions.\"\n\n\"Okay, sure. Okay.\" He was still eyeing the glass door over his shoulder even though I'd already shut the blinds. The interns couldn't help but peek in on The Visionary.\n\n\"Where are you living right now?\" I asked, clicking on my pen and readying my clipboard.\n\n\"Nowhere in particular,\" he replied, too quickly for comfort.\n\n\"Do you mean you've been bouncing around the city? Other dimensions or dreams? Are you homeless?\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" he growled. I wasn't getting anywhere this way. Alex Martinez was not going to be a regular case.\n\nI put down the clipboard and got up from my seat. This surprised Alex, who seemed to sober up as his thoughts raced to figure out my game. I walked over to a framed newspaper on the wall to my left. \n\n\"You know what happened here?\" I pointed to the headline: \"KALTONIANS DECLARE DEFEAT, WAR IS OVER.\" Alex pondered the question and started to drift, prompting me to snap my fingers.\n\n\"That was Firmaman's last adventure. He sacrificed his cosmic armor to defeat...something,\" he answered almost like a smartphone assistant.\n\n\"He sacrificed his arm, too,\" I added, tapping the frame with my prosthetic finger. \"The invaders of Kalton 7 declared war on the entire planet. Fighting went on for a full month. Eventually, when the Earth's armies and heroes were at their wit's end, Firmaman stepped up to end the conflict once and for all. He pushed himself and his Firmacape further than ever before, dismantling the entire Kaltonian army in a day. No one else died.\"\n\nAlex shot me an odd look, skeptical as to where I was going with this. I just smiled and put my palm on frame, activating the hand scanner. Within a nanosecond, we were transported to the roof of the building. Alex fell on his ass, spinning around to look for the chair that was no longer there. He then snapped toward me, walking angrily with fire in his eyes (not literally).\n\n\"Where the hell are we?! I can't believe I let Amy convince me to--\"\n\nI held a robot finger up to my mouth, which seemed to stop him in his tracks. Then, I pointed to the egg in the middle of the roof.\n\nWe made our way to it together, Alex cautious of the rainbownic waves bending just below the eggshell. I could tell he tried to use his mask to see into it and became concerned when it didn't work. When he got close enough, though, he could make out the strange looking being gestating within.\n\n\"I call her Eli. She's been up her for about, oh, about two and a half decades now. Every big brain I know tells me she won't hatch for another 50 years or so. But when she does, she'll become the new Firmaman. Or Firmawoman or--,\" I chuckled to myself. \"You get it.\"\n\n\"What are trying to say, here?\" Alex asked, not taking his eyes off the Firmegg.\n\n\"When Firmaman saved the world all those years ago, I'm sure...I know it took him quite a while to get the war out of his head. What he did was a last resort, a move that could've resulted in the entire universe transmuting into quantum foam. Not to mention, all the lives lost before that...\" He looked up me as I fought back the tears.\n\n\"It kept him up at night. The what ifs and what could have beens. But eventually, he realized that worrying about such things do no good to anyone. They just keep us down. They keep us from focusing on what we're here for.\" I gently patted the egg.\n\n\"You did what he did all those years ago, Alex.\" He collapsed in my arms and bawled his eyes out. I comforted him as best I could.\n\n\"You did all you could do.\"\n\n...\n\nThe two of us stood at the edge of the roof, gripping the railing and looking out over the sunset. The city always looks beautiful this time of evening. After a few hours, Alex stood straight up and looked at me; he didn't need to say anything else.\n\n\"Start at the beginning.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess it was really when I got the cloak...\"", "T:''Okay Jack, so we're back at square one,'' Said the temp agent. ''Don't worry, we'll figure something out together, but let's just analyse where it went wrong so it doesn't happen again, okay?''\n\nJ:''Okay''\n\nT:''Okay. So start at the beginning, the construction company said you were very late. How did that happen?''\n\nJ:''..''\n\nT:''..''\n\nJ:''..'' \n\nT:''Jack. You have to answer me.''\n\nJ:''..''\n\nT:''Jack. We've been over this. There's not going to be a cutscene to explain this to me. You need to actually tell me. In detail. Like we practiced. Okay?''\n\nJ:''Oh right, yeah. I forgot, my bad. Right, so I got up at 8 in the morning. I checked the room for food but I didn't find any.''\n\nT''Did you remember to buy any? Remember, you need to actually buy food in advance and place it in your fridge so you have it ready when you need it.''\n\nJ:''I tried to the day before, but I ran out of money. I was gonna pay them in wolf pelts but the supermarket apparently didn't accept those''.\n\nT:''Jack, you were given a 5.000 dollar budget to cover some of year early expenses by the government to get you on your feet. What did you do with all that money?''\n\nJ:''Oh that? I spent it on this cool new sword. It has like, a much higher attack then my old one.''\n\nT:''Jack...''\n\nJ:''I tried selling my old sword to the supermarket in exchange for groceries as well. But they didn't accept that either.''\n\nT:sigh ''Okay then. So did you leave the house shortly after that? It says here you didn't arrive at the construction site until 16.00. So what took you so long?''\n\nJ:''Oh that. Well I was following the route to the site, but I needed to check the side paths for extra loot. That took a while I guess…. I found a wallet though! So I used that to lower my hunger a bit. But yeah, I didn't realize it was a timed event, and the annoying foreman wouldn't even let me have a do-over!''\n\nT:''Jack I understand that this transition is hard but you can't just d- \n\nT:''So we will again go over what I've taught you so the next t-\n\nT:''So the first th-\n\nT:''And after that you n-\n\nT:''Jack are you skipping m-\n\nT:''Jack this is serious, you ca- \n\nT:''Stop, you need t-\n\nT:''Ja-" ]	2
	[WP]He looked like a machine washed Armani suit.	[ " \n\nHe looked like a machine-washed Armani suit. Wrinkled, faded, a little less crisp then he once might have been. He seemed bereft of all the charm and energy he’d had in life.\n\nBeatrice took comfort in the fact that Giovanni was probably enjoying cocktail parties in heaven, but it was still hard to accept that her favorite tailor was now gone forever, the suave style and measured exuberance lost forever to the world. It was like losing a part of herself really, a good tailor was so much more than business contact. \n\nGiovanni had been a friend and confidant to many clients, sharing gossip and sage advice in tandem with his excellent sense of warp and weft. His work would always fit in just the right way, tight enough for when you wanted to show off your figure, and loose enough to hide the little extra weight packed on from the holidays. He knew his clients so well, he barely needed to ask which they’d want and when, never judging you for your preferences, unless they were just plain out of fashion. \n\nBeatrice smiled, remembering one time she’d tried to convince him that bonnets could make a comeback in the fashion scene. He hadn’t spoken to her for weeks afterward. He’d always been passionate in his opinions on fashion, and was disappointed when his friends showed bad taste. Of course, he’d been right, she’d tried to make it work for a month, and then came crawling back to him in shame, admitting her defeat.\n\nGiovanni had been such a big part of a lot of people’s lives, providing suits and dresses for balls, business soirees, weddings, and board room meetings. He’d given her first ball gown, her first pantsuit, even her wedding dress. And he’d definitely been behind all of the suits and dresses worn in the church today, they just had that charm to them, as if he’d breathed a part of his life into every fiber, if only he’d saved a little more for himself.\n\nIt was a beautiful service, perhaps not the type Giovanni would have wanted, he always said he would have wanted people to celebrate his life rather than mourn its passing, but it was hard to celebrate the loss of such a vibrant, caring personality, when all that remained was a faded, joyless corpse that looked like a machine washed Armani suit." ]	1
	[WP] A new reality show is sweeping the nation. The stakes are high as each week the losing contestant is executed.	[ " \n\nPanic. Lightening blood flew through tightening veins. My heart thundered.\n\nThe elevator was a claustrophobic tube, creeping slowly up as my heart rate did the same. I could hear the deafening roar of a crowd in my head, but as I was still many feet below the ground, I knew my mind was simply betraying me. I had attended a few of these events myself when I was on the outside, and never missed the live feed when I was home. It was my guilty pleasure, the program no one admitted to watching but still garnered millions of viewers every week. Maybe If I had known I would one day be a contestant, I would have had more sympathy for those I watched. Frightened lambs and fierce wolves alike, slaughtered, sacrificed to the god of entertainment. \n\nA screen in the elevator lit up, and a woman dressed similarly to a flight attendant spoke in a calming voice. \n\n“Prisoner #8092617, you have been selected to participate in the nation’s most exciting new program, The Show! The Show is our country’s simple solution to prison overpopulation, and the revenue it produces goes to improving our current prison facilities.”\n\nShe winked slightly after this. The news was constantly filled with stories about the corruption that wrought the organization facilitating The Show, and the prison I came from was one gust of wind from collapsing and killing it's occupants.\n\n“You are directly involved in improving the lives of your fellow prisoners, and if you survive, yourself! Congratulations! Standby for further instructions as you near the surface. If you are religious, you are now allotted time to pray. Good luck!”\n\nThe screen flickered and faded. The elevator increased in speed, and the concrete surroundings turned to open space. Parking garages under the stadium packed with cars, and some of those attending the event stared and took pictures. Men with children pointed, directing their children's attention to me. Look at the man in the cage sweetie. Follow the law, or this could be you. A cautionary caged animal, a weak excuse for bringing his brood to watch bloodshed. \n\nThe parking garage faded away, and suddenly I was in the guts below the stadium. The inner workings of the many traps and machines designed to eviscerate those above sat here, silent and waiting. Which one of these would take me? Or maybe just remove my arms, leaving me a freak to be abused once back in prison. Is there oxygen getting into this goddamn tube? I cant fucking BREATHE IN HERE. LET ME OUT.\n\nI pounded my fists pointlessly on the thick walls of the tube, as the bright lights of the stadium loomed above. My capsule shot into the air with 12 others, spinning as the crowd exploded into cheers. Mechanical arms caught all 13, holding us 100 feet above the ground. I had seen it many times, once the timer ended the floors would drop out, and we would all drop down into nets. This had not been perfected, and I recall seeing a few contestants die from poor drops. Sweat slicked my palms as I pressed them against the glass. The announcer was muffled, and the crowds cheered at intervals. Then the jumbo screen lit up. 30 seconds.\n\nIt was almost show time. " ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2318. Humanity lost the ability to survive without technology a long time ago. After The Event, all technology has been rendered inert. One nation begins to rise up, capable of surviving in this new world. They call themselves, The Amish.	[ "Cicadas buzzed in syncopated harmony as Ezekiel's horse clomped down the aisle of what remained of Perryman's hardware store. \n\nThe roof had fallen through a year before. A year of rain had turned the warehouse superstore halfway into a forest.\n\nDressed in black slacks, black suspenders and one of several identical white button-down shirts, Ezekiel sat atop his horse and led it confidently through the maze of dilapidated aisles. Periodically he ran the back of his left hand across his well-trimmed beard. \n\nTwo years ago, almost to the day, the Event hit the reset button on human civilization. Those with implants lost their minds. The few without fared little better, with the former often senselessly taking the lives of the latter. \n\nIn their extreme isolation Ezekiel, his family and his neighbors did not even know something had gone wrong for two weeks. It was only when the ice delivery failed to arrive that they began asking questions.\n\nShortly thereafter the first of the Mindless arrived on the farm. They were only ever encountered one at a time, the Mindless, for they could not even abide one another. \n\nIt was a Sunday - God's day - that Ezekiel and his community were introduced to the new state of the world. A gut-wrenching scream interrupted service. It was Eli, the oldest son of Ezekiel's immediate neighbors. \n\nWhen the chapel emptied into the short grass by the entrance, there Eli was, his face a mask of gore being torn apart, piece by wet piece, by a lunatic man. The beast rent and raked his fingers through Eli's skin, digging beneath the cutaneous layer and tearing upwards - as a chef might do to a freshly plucked duck. \n\nThe women screamed, the men recoiled, and Ezekiel picked up a shovel leaning against the wall of the church and swung hard on the creature's neck, at the nape. The monster collapsed onto Eli's motionless body, completing the gruesome display which acted as an introduction to the new reality. \n\nIt was months before Ezekiel understood society's precious implants had gone haywire. Months more before the global scale of events was made clear by old newspapers and stray, non-implanted survivors. \n\nBut all that was ancient history. Time had a way of dilating, and that dilation was proportional to the difficulties life presented. Suffice it to say, the past two years had been exceptionally difficult.\n\nEyes always scanning beneath the brim of his wide black hat, Ezekiel progressed toward his purpose. In one hand he loosely held the reins, in the other a Smith and Wesson revolver. Resting on a strap against his back was the reassuring weight of a rifle. \n\nAs he progressed further into the store the sunlight from the gaping hole in the ceiling diminished and it grew darker. The horse hesitated a step, but Ezekiel cooed to it and touched gently behind its right ear.\n\n\"Courage now,\" Ezekiel said, pistol ready, \"courage.\"\n\nSlowly the man and horse moved down the chipped and cracked concrete until they arrived at what Ezekiel sought. Ezekiel dismounted and stepped up to a shelf where two large plastic bags lay on top of each other. The word \"Fertilizer\" was prominent on the front of each. \n\nWith another brief look in either direction down the aisle, Ezekiel holstered his pistol and set to work. He lifted one bag onto his right shoulder heaved it onto the back of the horse and went back for the second. \n\nIronically, when the human race was still alive and well Ezekiel never needed to purchase fertilizer. But last year's harvest had been unimpressive and Ezekiel was determined to make this year's better. \n\nAs Ezekiel lifted the second bag onto his shoulder there was a loud clatter of metal far down the aisle. Ezekiel froze as the horse shuffled a couple of steps backward, startled. \n\nQuietly, as quietly as he could, Ezekiel placed the bag of fertilizer back on the shelf, inching it off his shoulder. He was about to drop it onto the metal when the horse neighed loudly and began racing down the aisle back the way they'd come. \n\nAll at once Ezekiel flung the fertilizer onto the shelf, where it made a loud clang and began running after the horse. At the same time, a frenzied figure appeared at the other end of the aisle, farther into the store. It began racing after Ezekiel, its steps broad, its arms jerking and flailing in the air as it moved. \n\nIt was one of the Half-Minded - a small percentage of the Mindless and the only implanted survivors who still remained. The Half-Minds had just enough processing power remaining to seek out their most basic needs - food and water. Water was easy to come by if you were willing to drink the toxic rivers and lakes. Food for the Half-Minded, on the other hand, was growing scarce - after all, almost everyone else was dead. \n\nThe horse entered a dangerous gallop, Ezekiel sprinted behind it, the Half-Mind hungrily sped after Ezekiel. The three figures would have looked implausible to the extreme in the old world. In the new one they were simply playing out the circle of life, one of countless such daily dramas across the globe. \n\nThe horse made it outside the store. Ezekiel watched it slow to a stop in the hot sunlight, hooves on the grassy asphalt. \n\nAs he ran Ezekiel began to unholster his pistol. He had it half way out when he tripped on a spilled box of long carpentry nails. He fell bodily to the floor and the impact knocked the wind out of him and sent the pistol sliding across the concrete several feet. \n\nIt took Ezekiel a long second to shake the lights from his eyes. He still didn't have any air in his lungs, but he could hear the disjointed, frenetic footfalls of the Half-Mind approaching from behind him. They grew louder and louder with each step. \n\nEzekiel forced himself to get to one knee. He still could not take a breath and the world blackened around the edges as he struggled, red-faced, not to lose consciousness. His chest ached terribly and when he touched a spot on the right side his fingers came up with blood.\n\nThe footsteps were very loud now, and even in half-consciousness, Ezekiel could hear the approaching breath, the emotionless speedy inhalations of a mindless human body exerting itself, like some horrible machine. \n\nEzekiel spied the glint of the pistol and used his last bit of energy to push out with his legs, diving for it. Pain raked his chest as he impacted the floor again, but his right hand found its mark. He grasped the pistol, spun onto his back, took quick aim and fired. \n\nIn the expansive warehouse, the shot was cacophonous. It echoed across the shelves and came back to Ezekiel's ears as if a host of guns had gone off.\n\nLaying there Ezekiel was finally able to take a breath. It had been no longer than three seconds, but he coughed like mad, first dry hacking and then coughing up some blood. \n\nIn front of him, the Half-Mind lay flat on the floor, the back if its skull an exploded hole. The bullet had caught it squarely in the mouth, mid-leap, entering through the front teeth and exiting right at the brain stem, stopping the creature cold. \n\nEzekiel let his head rest on the floor for a moment as he caught his breath. Then he opened his white shirt, saw that it was covered in blood, and touched gently a quarter inch of carpenter nail protruding from the right side of his chest. He looked back at the nails that had fallen on the floor and saw that they were each two inches long. \n\n\"God help me,\" Ezekiel began mumbling to himself, \"help me God.\" Slowly, Ezekiel began to work his way to his feet. Step by careful step he walked out of the store and retrieved his waiting horse. \n\n\"God help me to do your work,\" Ezekiel continued as he led the horse back down the aisle, past the dead Half-Mind, over the spilled nails. \"Be my Shephard as I walk through the valley.\" Ezekiel bent down and struggled to pick up the dropped bag of fertilizer, then laid it on the horse's back. \"Guide my hand as a shepherd guides his flock.\" Ezekiel made it to the shelf again, picked up the last bag of fertilizer, and lashed it to the back of the horse with the first. \n\nWith a titanic struggle, the nail still embedded in his chest, Ezekiel mounted the horse. The creature assisted by instinct, bending low. At last Ezekiel was in the saddle once again. \n\n\"God, bestow upon your servant your will and your mercy—\" Ezekiel continued to mumble under his breath as he led the horse back out the store, pistol in one hand and rein in the other. \"—and your servant shall go forth and do good works upon the world.\"\n\nWith careful breaths, Ezekiel and the horse stepped back out into the sunlight and started the long ride home. \n\n*********\n\n#### For More Legends From The Multiverse\n\n## r/LFTM\n" ]	1
	[WP] The protagonist has the power to drain life from other living organisms to maintain his/her own immortality. Think of a way that the power is used for good instead of evil.	[ "Escape lay ahead, a red sun which filled the shaded viewscreen.\n\nThree patients were left, but the inquisitor felt that his time was coming, and long ago he'd decided that that would mean time was up. Nurgle's touch could be as fatal, or worse, to his patients as himself.\n\nHe still considered himself pious, in his own cracked way. He hoped a psyker could declare those sent back free of taint, but they \\would\\ serve the inquisition one way or another, -as scientific material if not as agents or clerks. A chance to serve the emperor, that was all any man could hope or wish, and it was he'd been given and given in turn. \"If the emperor wills it\", he intoned. (Those remaining on the ship had had a chance too. If he'd been stronger perhaps he would now turn confidently to them.)\n\nHe might still be able to drain another of illness, without falling, or even two, but despite it all, \\_\\_\\_\\_\\_ was not a reckless man, nor even a greedy one. What he suffered from, he had decided, -diagnosed, was mundane battle madness; ever since the hold of the tyrranid ship, -ever since he'd cut his way out, he'd been touched by something unbending and alien, unable to conceive of defeat. He hoped it was the emperor's will, that freed him then and that he followed now, but perhaps it was a shadow of khorne, a blessing of khaine, an echo of the hivemind, or merely a mundane crack in his own.\n\nEmperor protect me, he muttered one last time, and flicked the engines to full blast, preparing himself for the claws of oblivion, the forces which might reach forth to take what held something of theirs, and \"then emperor preserve me\", he muttered again and again.", "The seal must be maintained.\n\nThat mantra has defined my life for ages uncounted. Once, long ago I was a man, but now I am the living seal that protects this world.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nI have forgotten what would happen if I were to die, if the seal were to be broken. My power prevents my death from times unrelenting current.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nMany kings, emperors, dukes, counts, and even dragons offer sacrifices to me, so that the seal may never break. The gods themselves have intervened countless times to prevent my death.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nI do not believe they can do that now.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nSome group has captured me.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nThey intend to kill me.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nI hope I am judged worthy.\n\nThe seal must be maintained.\n\nI am sorry for failing.\n\nThe seal must-", "Rumor has it that there is a hospital in Grand Island, NE that has the cure for cancer. Apparently, there is a necromancer there that can steal the life force out and an organism. What was once a very questionable endeavor has proved to be the real deal. The person that does it only charges $100, outside of getting there. This necromancer has killed other deadly disease and will help anyone he can. He will often go out and do it for free in poverty-stricken areas and has been even known to do house calls. \n\nAll public records of him say he's been alive for over 150 years. When his police record was pulled it showed that he had one speeding ticket over 75 years ago. Other than that it seems like this person it a pretty wholesome guy. But I think there's more going on. Its possible, and I hope to God, that I am a little jaded and this person just wants to live and help as many other people do the same. \n\nAlmost everyone that he has helped has lived a full life. There have been a few that died within a few years after he cured them. But all of those could be explained really easily. Such as George McFly that died in a car crash five years after he help him.\n\nSo what do you say Dad, want to go try it? After all, we got nothing to lose and everything to gain. " ]	3
	[WP] You are the captain of a ship in the late 1700s on its way to the United States. After passing through an unnaturally thick fog, your ship arrives at its destination... in 2018.	[ "\"Hey, this is India right?\" Captain Columbus asked one of the pedestrian. People told him India was an exotic place but it was beyond his imagination.\n\n\"No dude, this is totally a different place\" The man answered in a weird accent.\n\n\"No no, this is India right?\" Captain asked again.\n\n\"No, this is America\"\n\n\"Agh, you are Indian\"\n\n\"No dude, I am not!\"\n\n\"You are Indian for the hundred and thousands years\"\n\nWe finally landed in India.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\\\Credit to Louis CK. \n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] You love in a space colony ship that is under attack from aliens. However, your ship is so big that you can pretty much live a normal life despite the battle outside.	[ "He plopped down at his usual spot in the corner of my bar. He always looked like he'd just lost a loved one. Same grey eyes, same haggard face. With a wave of his hand, he beckoned me over. \n\n\"The usual, Harry.\"\n\nZorblaxian cocktail, then. I nodded, and turned around, already reaching for the ingredients I'd need. Some gin, but mostly rum. \n\nJon was actually the one who'd taught me how to make it. The Zorblaxians didn't actually drink, alcohol being toxic to their physiology. The name came from a popular tale about Captain Arthur Rockborne slaughtering an entire platoon of Zorblaxians with just three bottles of rum. Or so Jon had told me, anyway. Jon always had the most interesting stories. \n\nThe drink done, I proffered it to him. He took it, and immediately downed half the glass. I imagined doing the same, the raw burning liquid sliding down my throat, and winced. I liked to think that I could hold my drink, but there was no question that Jon put me to shame. \n\nHe nodded to me. I nodded back, and walked off to turn down the music. Jon liked to sit on his alcohol. It'd be a while before he needed me again. \n\nI busied myself with other things - wiping glasses, arranging bottles. I prided myself on having an immaculate workstation. Occasionally Jon would wave to me, and I'd silently serve him up another glass of his preferred indulgence. \n\nBut for the most part, nothing happened. It was a slow night, and aside from a passed-out drunk at table five I'd need to kick out in an hour or so, there was nobody else in the bar. \n\nOn his fourth glass, Jon finally broke the silence. His voice was bland, devoid of emotion. \n\n\"We lost Alpha quarter today.\" \n\n\"That bad, huh?\"\n\n\"Ah, it was gonna happen at some point. I'd seen it coming ever since those idiots up in Strategic Command up and pulled the whole armored division to Omega quarter. Strategic retreat, my ass. That's another patch of prime real estate we're never gettin' back.\" \n\nJon was always off fighting in some far-off war, employed by some mercenary corporation I'd never heard of. Beamed here with the magic of transporters, and whisked off again when his break was over. Or so he told me, anyway. Jon always had the most interesting stories. \n\nJon rambled on for a bit after that. About buddies, current and former, about old encounters with the Zorblaxians, about strange places I'd never heard of, much less seen. All the while I nodded silently, polishing glasses, refilling his drink when it got low. Jon was one of my best customers. It wouldn't hurt to entertain him for a while. And truth be told? I rather enjoyed listening to his grim stories of blood and death, of conflict and battle. It was much better than anything I'd ever seen at home on the parlour walls. There were no flashy explosions, no jam-packed action sequences, but somehow Jon's monotone storytelling just felt more... real. \n\nEventually his watch beeped. He glanced at it, and grimaced. \n\n\"Back to the frontlines for me. The folks at Transportation'll be getting antsy by now.\" \n\nI glanced at the wall clock. Half an hour past closing time. In this too, Jon was regular as clockwork. \n\nHe stood and nodded curtly to me. There was no need for payment. I knew the payment would be coming in tomorrow from his trusted credit account, and with a generous tip. Jon always tipped well. \n\n\"See you tomorrow, Jon.\" \n\n\"If I'm still alive.\" \n\n\"Har, har.\" \n\nHe strode out the door, and vanished around the corner. A moment passed before I realized what had gone wrong. \n\n\"Wait, Jon! That's the wrong way!\" \n\nI rushed to the corridor he'd just passed. It was a narrow alley that only led to a dead end. I'd made the mistake myself enough times. \n\nBut when I reached the door, Jon was nowhere to be seen. \n\nIn its place, a patch of rusted steel wall looked back at me. \n\n&#x200B;", "The metal grating beneath my feet shudders. It's barely perceptible to those inside the station, but outside--a war rages. \n\nI consider the implications of such a war, of the sufferings our people endured during the great wars of Earth. But this one is much different. The unknown species that batters our gates and sends the ripples through our colony remain unable to gain entry or any foothold, easily repelled by the stations basic defense systems. And so as our station is attacked time and time again, we remain safe huddled inside our home, and life goes on. As does my neighbor's life, my brother's life, my life. And I have a job to do.\n\nMy boots clang against metal as I make my way to the stations main hold, where people move about in all directions as they scour the wares and foodstuffs and knick-knacks from old Earth. I smile and wave to some of my favorite repeat customers, but soon lay eyes on my first for the day. \n\n\"Good morning, Karen,\" I say. She looks up from a pair of fresh oranges, her eyes soft and glowing. I walk to her, slow, steady, and I lightly cup her face in my hands, using my thumbs to caress her soft cheeks. \n\n\"I love you,\" I say to her. And she smiles back at me, happy to be a customer of the Colony's Love Distributor, arguably the most important position within the station. \n\nWe hug and she holds on for quite some time. I can feel her pain releasing, her woes lessening and her spirit returning through the physical contact she so craves. Life on the colony is difficult, and love is always needed. And so I let her hug until she no longer needs me. \n\nIt isn't until the ship shudders under foot that she finally let's go, having her fill of my love. She looks up to me and I can see her revitalized and refreshed. \n\n\"Thank you, Love,\" she says to me and she goes back to her oranges, deciding on a smaller but vibrantly colored and aromatic one. She smiles again as she leaves and I turn to find my next customer for the day." ]	2
	[WP] Superhero’s get fans, fame, attractive people throwing themselves at you, even action figures made of them. But without having everyone know your true identity, it doesn’t really pay any bills. Maybe a day job? No..... I guess I could break the law a little bit.	[ "As a shape shifter, there are a million ways to make a buck. I could become anyone and withdraw the entirety of their funds, or simply walk into the presidential office and get whatever I want. I decided play a mix, depending on what I really felt like that evening. Today was Saturday, a good night to hit up the Casino. \n\nPeople laughing, drinking, gambling. I stood, calming my mind to prepare for my transformation while surveying the room for my target. Casinos were great. So busy, lots of bathrooms to change out identities in. All I had to do was wait for some chump to hit a winning streak, take a break in the can, then I’d change into the fool and stroll over to the counter to cash out for the night while the real gambler was still in the bathroom getting business done. \n\nI’d done this thousands of times across the country as I traveled, and never been caught. Usually the person I’d imitated would get angry and start yelling at the casino when told they’d already taken their winnings, usually ending up with them kicked out and banned. Fine with me. I pocketed the cool 15k I’d made in 2 hours and hopped into my Jeep, pulling out and flipping on the radio while heading for the next town. " ]	1
	[WP] Fortune cookies actually tell the future, but yours is blank.	[ "I cracked open the cookie that came with my shitty but cheap Chinese food and put the cookie in my mouth, chewing, alone. Always alone, I don't have any friends or anything, I wish I did.\n\nI took the fortune and saw that it was blank, in my confusion, the cookie I was chewing gets stuck in my throat and I can't breath anymore. Fuck, is this how I die? Choking on a fucking fortune cookie? I fell over and tried to dislodge the food from my throat.\n\nNo cigar.\nAs I fell, so did my fortune, I saw that there was writing on it. I'm going to die anyways. Why not.\n\n\n\"A tragedy will befall those who love you most, be there for them.\"\n\nBut... Nobody loves me.", "\"Oh.\"\n\n\"What? What is it?\" My father was unable to hide his sudden anxiety.\n\nI stopped my motion to turn the paper over and find my fortune there. If my father had just asked about it, then it was blank on their side too.\n\n\"It er... It says I will find love.\"\n\nFind love? I gave myself a mental face palm. Of all the lies I could come up with, the one I chose to tell my father was \"find love\"? Urh.\n\n\"Oh\" my dad echoed. \"Well that's nice.\"\n\nMy mum nodded encouragingly at me, her sweet smile reaching her motherly eyes.\n\nMy dad went back to his food. I guess my lie had that going for it: at least he was not interested enough to look at the piece of paper.\n\n\"Well I hope she's lovely\", my mum said to her plate before starting eating again.\n\nI looked at the blank piece of paper in confusion for a moment. Then I put it in my inner pocket.\n\nThat night, I looked at the paper again. Checked both sides against a light. Nothing. Brought it near a source of heat. Nothing. I tried to feel for bumps and creases. Smooth.\n\nI poured myself a glass of scotch and sat at my desk. I flipped through some books and dictionaries just in case I could find something on the topic. No luck.\n\nI looked at the blank fortune. Eh, what the hell. I downed the rest of my scotch and quickly scribbled on the paper with my pencil. \"You will find love\". I put the paper in my desk drawer.\n\nThe next day, I found it. I knew it was _it_ as soon as I saw her. It wasn't like in the stories where your senses are hightened, the light shines and the world slows down for you to take in and imprint the moment in your mind. It was just..._it_. She was just there, outside my home, and somehow I knew she was my love. And it was natural that she knew I was her love too. We smiled at each other.\n\nI had never been so sure of anything in my life. I am not the trongest of believer. But in her, in _us_, god I believed with all my soul. It was as natural as the air we breathe.\n\nWe soon married, settled down, had our first kid. Life was humble, simple, reassuring. We had a our own home, with a little garden for the little one to play with the dog. It was wholesome.\n\nI have never told her of the made-up fortune. \n\nOne day, years later, I find it again in my desk drawer. I look back on the blessed years that have happened since then. I sigh. Relieved. Happy.\n\nI absentmindedly put the paper in my pocket and go for the door.\n\nI stopped.\nWhat if...\n\nNo, surely it wouldn't work.\nI opened the door.\n\nI stopped mid-track again, my hand on the door knob.\n\nEh, what the hell. I smiled excitedly.\n\nI sat down at the desk again and put the eraser on the top of the pencil in my chin dimple, thinking. I finally chuckled and erased the pencilled fortune. I wrote down \"You will be successful in your work\". I put the fortune back where I first left it and closed the drawer again, not without throwing the blessed paper a look of infinite thankfulness.\n\nThe next day, she was gone." ]	2
	[WP]The world is like a video game. Each thing you do affects your stats. Punch something? Your strength increases. Get hit? Your defense increases. Run? You get faster. As long as you do something, you can get better at it.	[ "\"Open your anthologies to page 56 please.\"\n\nElizabeth followed her English teacher's instructions, revealing a piece tersely entitled \"aaaaaa\":\n\n> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa\n\n\"As you will no doubt notice, this is one of McCastor's early works. His distinctive style is unmistakably present, but is is unrefined, rough around the edges.\"\n\nThe musky sensuality of the young McCastor's verse at once entranced and offended Elizabeth. She felt the pull of its allure but, at the same time, that of her unblemished morality.\n\n\"Now let's take a look at one of his later poems, on page 114.\"\n\nGingerly flipping through the book's worn pages, scribbled upon by countless other bored literature students, Elizabeth's eyes came to rest upon \"aaaaaaaa\":\n\n> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa\n>aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa \n\nThe sweet crescendo of McCastor's rhyme enchanted Elizabeth, taking her into a dimension of poetic extasy. After years and years of writing, McCastor had truly become the master of his craft.", "Tears fell from their eyes as they watched on in horrer, \"Just please stop, come back to use let's be a family again.\" But their pleas fell on deaf ears. I don't recall how much time it has been since I last saw my wife and children, but then again it dies not seem to matter. As I sit on my throne taking in the bustling utopia I habe created I get of sense of nostalgia for the old days. Before I gained my powers, I was a simple account in a small firm typing out numbers trapped by monotony and small walls. But after years of punching a wall I have gained perfection. I am unparalleled in power, a single finger can destroy a planet, I cannot be harmed by even the most destructive weapons mankind has created. I, Alex Jones am the peak of physical perfection " ]	2
	[WP] They say that each day, 150,000 people die. Today, all those deaths came from the same place.	[ "\nAugust 6, 2045.\n One millenia after the notorious bombing of Hroshima and Nagashi. Japan recognises this moment to remember all the people who died, like America's 9/11. About 111,000 people died in that bombing. Some people think it's dumb to do this now since everyone who lost someone is dead also, so theres no point, but they keep it to themselves. Japan has been on its toes after their neighbors, North Korea daftly ended their alliance and started another war. At first it was like watching two toddlers fight, a 'theyll get tired fighting and then make up eventually' kind of mindset. After a while, other countries tried to intervene, and that caused World War 4. Now, U S had already launched their modified atom bomb a few days prior, because its slow. They programmed the bomb towards japan to get revenge on bombing missisipi back in 2025. No one that had a planned death (last day to live w/cancer, disconnection of life support, etc.) died, they all had a medical miracle, causing people to call this specific day \"Miracle Day\". The bomb fell. No one saw it coming. They didnt even need two bombs. It destroyed all of japan, and most of both koreas. It was that strong. After realizing this \"miracle day\" phenomenon, and having all the people dead, people wondered if the bomb messed with the laws of the universe. And that was the day all 150,000 people dead in a day died in the same place. " ]	1
	[WP] The genie froze, as the full extent of your wish began to sink in. He had heard almost every wish he could think of. Money, power, love, an extended life. But nobody had ever asked him something this big, and he was scared. One more time you spoke up. "I wish to become omnipotent."	[ "“Are…are you sure?” he asked.\n\n“Yes, for the last time!” I replied.\n\nThe genie frowned at me, obviously confused. The whole ordeal had been quite extravagant up to now: tomb raiding, horse riding, a Russian drug ring, and more than one clown. At the end of the day, however, I had maintained my ownership of the old, dented lamp.\n\n“Young man, you should know that I only have the one wish to grant and this is quite an unusual wish.”\n\nI rolled my eyes and took a closer look at the genie’s features. This was an old genie. Wrinkles, yellowed eyes, and a wispy grey beard. How old did a genie have to be to look ancient?\n\n“I’m tired of repeating myself!” I all but yelled, “You know my wish. Now grant it.”\n\nThe genie scowled, shrugged and gestured.\n\nI braced myself, awaiting the rush of knowledge.\n\n…\n\nWhat I felt was something quite different. And not in my skull.\n\n“What the hell!?” I screamed.\n\nI wrenched my belt off and stared at my nether region.\n\n“Oh. I’m sorry. Bit hard of hearing, these millennia. You did say ‘impotent’ right?”\n", "The genie scratches his head, looks Aladdin in the eyes and asks if he was sure of his wish. It just seemed so final no coming back from it but his purpose was not to question the reasons of his masters but to grant their wildest dreams. Aladdin took a long deep breath and and slowly exhaled:\n\n“Make my wish so”\n\nThe genie crossed his arms closed his eyes and nodded his head. He didn’t need to do this in fact his power was pretty much conceptual he just had to think of the wish for it to come true, he did this more for his masters they loved the puffs of smoke, clicking of fingers and all the pageantry that come along with being a genie.\n\n“Done”\n\nAladdin opened his eyes balled his hands into tight fists and from the core of his being and with all he had he let out a loud bellowing howl. He takes a second to compose himself and to take in his new found knowledge and power but something seemed off.\n\n“I don’t feel any different, how long does it take to take effect”\n\n“Well pretty much instantly I mean I don’t really know what type of signs you expect to see straight away”\n\nAladdin thought for a moment, maybe he’s Wright it’s not as if he asked for a new car or a nice pair of shoes he wanted to be all knowing an all being master of everything, let’s give it a minute.\n\n“So is this the biggest wish you’ve ever granted?”\n\n“Erm no I wouldn’t even put it in the top thousand”\n\n“What! Are you telling me there have been better wishes?”\n\n“Well yeah obviously”\n\nThe genie couldn’t get why he or any man would wish for this especially to use his last wish on it, I mean in genies mind no wishes at all would be better than this.\n\n“Okay I still feel nothing genie, what’s gone wrong”\n\n“I mean I suppose you can test it to see if it’s worked”\n\n“What here now, how?”\n\n“NO!!! Not here and not in front of me, go in bathroom to do that stuff and if you don’t know that stuff by now you never will mate”\n\n“What stuff?”\n\n“Yano....... pants stuff”\n\n“Pants stuff what do you mean pants stuff?”\n\n“You tell me you wished for it”\n\n“Hang on genie what have you granted me”\n\n“Impotence”\n\n“What the fuck I said omnipotent, what have you done to me”\n\n“Oh omnipotent, well you need to learn how to pronunciate more clearly”\n\n“Genie fix it!”\n\n“Sorry mate I would if could but I can’t three wishes is all I can give it’s physically impossible for me to grant more”\n\n“Fucking fix me”\n\n“Come on it’s not all bad,..... on the bright side you was right it would of been the best wish id ever granted”\n\nThe genie disappeared in a puff leaving Aladdin alone holding the bronze lamp in one hand and limp dick in the other.\n\nThe end", "The genie knew, I could see it in his eyes the moment he froze up. He snapped his fingers and in an instant I realized my mistake. \n\nOmniscient. All powerful. All knowing. A fool’s wish. \n\nI went from a happy actor going through the motions to the playwright. My life transformed from a joyous skip from unknown to unknown to the monotony of existence. I no longer had the present. I was living 2,000 years ago while seeing the sun die millions of years from now. \nLife was over. I was. I am. I will be. All simultaneously. \n\nThe genie froze when I asked to become a god. He realized my folly. Gods have everything which means they have nothing. The uncertainty of life, the spontaneity of everything was beautiful. Living on a wave of joy and sadness made life worth living. The flatline that humans see in death is what I have now for eternity. \n" ]	3
	[WP] You've spent so much time with the human who summoned you that you've actually begun to enjoy his company. That's what got you into this whole mess.	[ "Andrew shifted his weight nervously, glancing at the hopeful, eager face of the demon sitting across the table. He played with the peas on his plate, hoping to avoid eye contact.\n\n\"Listen, Matheus...\" He began, unsure of how to proceed. What was he supposed to do? It's not like something like this had ever been addressed by John Hughes in some quirky coming of age movie. \"I think you're a really great demon and all that, we've had some great times...\"\n\n\"Oh man! Have we ever!\" Matheus cut him off, his deep voice joyful and optimistic. Who knew a demon could be optimistic? \"Like the time we switched the heads of the statues with pigs down at city hall! Oh! Or that time we went to see The Shinning and I made real blood pour out of the screen! We make such a good team.\"\n\nAndrew swallowed hard. Somewhere in the restaurant a pianist tinkered out a soft melody. He should have known this restaurant was a bad choice. This was going to get ugly.\n\n\"Ha, we sure do.\" He laughed an empty laugh. \"But Matheus, I mean, we've had a lot of fun, and I really enjoy your company, I just don't really think of you in that way.\"\n\nMatheus looked crestfallen. The flames in his eyes dimmed a bit, clawed fingers gripped his fork so hard it bent. Andrew held his breath. Please don't make a scene, he thought desperately.\n\n\"Oh.\" Matheus exhaled deeply, expelling bits of sulfur as he did so. \"I thought, when you chose me in your summons... but then... why did you summon me?\"\n\n\"I -- I know you hadn't been summoned in a while,\" Andrew stammered, \"But I swear I didn't know that at the time. I thought it would be funny to summon a demon.\"\n\nMatheus looked up sharply. \"Funny?\" He breathed \"Is that what I am to you, some kind of joke?\"\n\nOh fuck. Andrew thought, now you've done it.\n\n\"No! No! Not at all\" He said quickly, people at other tables were starting to stare. \"It was just supposed to be temporary! A little harmless fun!\"\n\nToo late he realized what he had said. The flames in the demon's eyes flared to life. Matheus stood up, his head brushing the crystal chandelier. It tinkered softly as the restaurant went dead silent.\n\n\"Temporary!\" Matheus boomed, \"What do you take me for? You think you can just summon me for an evening and then throw me away like I'm nothing? You're a monster, and an asshole! I have feelings, Andrew! I bet you thought that demons were just some heartless wish machine but you're wrong! You used me up and now you want to throw me away! You're heartless!\"\n\nAs he spoke, two of the adjacent tables burst into flames, the lights began to flicker and glasses fell from tables. Panicked patrons began to rush from the restaurant. Andrew stared up at the demon, this was not going well.\n\n\"I'm sorry!\" He exclaimed, \"I didn't mean to hurt you!\"\n\n\"You just wish I was some sexy lady demon, don't you! Then you'd love me, if I were better, and perfect.\" Matheus began to cry. Well as best as a demon could cry.\n\n\"No!\" Andrew replied, \"It's not you Matheus, I promise, it's me!\"\n\nMatheus stopped sobbing and looked down at the hapless human in the now empty restaurant.\n\n\"Oh it's you all right.\" He narrowed his eyes so just a sliver of flames was visible. \"And I'll make sure you never forget me. I'll run on repeat forever. What's that director you're always idolizing? Oh, right, I remember.\"\n\nAnd in a flash the demon disappeared. Andrew looked around incredulously. Was that it?\n\nThen he heard it, it started out quietly at first, but where was it coming from. His eyes grew wide as he realized it was coming from within his own head, a song he knew, of course he knew it, everyone knew this one.\n\nDon't you, forget about me...\"\n\nWait, did Matheus say repeat forever?", "Just as you're about to enter the church, Andrea pulls you both to a stop. Frowning, she casts her eyes over you before returning her gaze to the church doors. \"You're not ... you're not going to burst into fire or anything, are you?\" she asks, examining the cross above the doors closely as if she might find a demon sensor somewhere.\n\nYou snort. \"Do you really think a building built by a human has the power to cause a supernatural being to burst into flames?\"\n\nAndrea thinks for a moment and your heart is filled with that odd feeling of warmth at the face she pulls. In the ten years since she summoned you, Andrea has changed a lot. Back then, she was a supposedly satanist scene kid who dealt with shitty parents and being desperately lonely by pretending not to care at all. Now, she's a social worker—you'd tried to convince her to do something that contributed good to the world, like a bank robber, but no dice—who claims to be in love with a dull accountant named Greg and content with her life. It's all dreadfully boring and you often wonder if the Andrea who first summoned you even exists anymore, but sometimes, she will pull a face or say something and it's like she never left.\n\n\"Not just a building,\" she says in a hushed tone, as if the cross above the two of you might hear and fall on top of you in anger at the mere suggestion of something else. \"It's a holy building.\"\n\nYou raise an eyebrow at her. \"It's a building. The only difference between this one and all of the houses on this street is you won't be expected to give—sorry, asked to donate money for merely entering the houses.\"\n\nAndrea looks at you in a way that makes it clear she's not amused. It's so much like the old Andrea it almost makes you forget about the veil falling down on either side of her face and the white dress that takes up entirely too much of your vision when you try to look at her. Your heart begins having that odd warmth to it and you're not entirely comfortable with it. Sometimes, you almost long for the days before Andrea summoned you. Humans only want to feel because they've never known the freedom of not feeling.\n\nAndrea rolls her eyes. \"What do you know?\"\n\n\"A lot more than any human. God sent the person who designed the modern day church to hell because, in his words, 'those wretched things look like they belong there.'\"\n\nIt's been ten years and even now, Andrea can sometimes look at you in wonder when you talk about things beyond Earth. It's one of those things that reminds you how human she is when you find yourself almost forgetting. You hate it. \"If ugly buildings are all humans have to fear in hell,\" she says, \"I think you guys need to be doing your job a little better.\"\n\nYou look at her and give her a small smile. \"Hell isn't so bad.\"\n\nOccasionally, Andrea will look at you in this way that makes you feel completely exposed. Not in the bemusing, human sense, where the idea of someone seeing them without clothes is a thing that haunts their nightmares. No, an exposed that even you, as a being much more than a human, feel. It feels like she's inside your head and can look wherever she wishes, you powerless to stop her. You often wonder how much she can see. \"It's hell,\" she says softly.\n\nIn that moment, it feels like the veil and the dress are all you can see, growing and growing until there's nowhere you can look to avoid them, like you've been doing since the two of you arrived at the church. For the last couple of years, it has felt like she's been going through a phase with you merely waiting for her to grow out of it. When she first introduced you to Greg when she began dating him, you weren't too concerned. In fact, you were certain Greg, as dull as he was and is, would perform a vital function in making Andrea realize she isn't meant for the boring, mundane life humans promote as the ideal. When she accepted his proposal, you bit your tongue, sure that eventually, eventually, she would see things clearly because she had to. Now, at the church doors, her about to enter and commit herself to this man and this life forever, you find yourself unable to keep quiet for the sake of being—ugh—polite.\n\n\"Is that why you're doing this?\" you ask, the words coming out with much more anger than you realized you held about this.\n\nAndrea refuses to look at you. \"Doing what?\"\n\nYou let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. There's a deep, deep part of you—a left behind echo of all the humans you have ever possessed—that recognizes this is about more than today. All of these years, the two of you have tried to avoid the fact the only way your odd form of a relationship won't end is Andrea ending up in hell. You aren't scared of losing a form of Andrea. You're scared of losing Andrea altogether. \"You know what. Becoming this mundane human who lives a mundane life, scared of ever stepping the slightest bit out of line for fear of going to somewhere other than the oh-so amazing heaven.\"\n\nAt your words, it's like a fire ignites in Andrea and that spark—the one you had found so endearing, the one you had missed so much—makes you feel warm in a way so many years in hell has never done. It's a welcomed friend you haven't seen in years. \"And what is so wrong with that? With being human? Having a normal human existence?\"\n\n\"Everything. Normal humans are insignificant, boring, pointless. I don't understand why you would try so hard to possibly get to heaven when it's filled with people who had to be so dreadfully boring to get there.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to disappoint you,\" she says, a tremble to her voice, \"but I am human.\"\n\n\"You're different, though,\" you say, smiling. If there's one thing you know, it's how different from the average human Andrea is. \"Do you think I agree to attend ridiculous Earth ceremonies for all humans? I saw something in that girl who summoned me that I'd never seen in all my years. I saw something in you I'd never seen before. You're special, you're meant for something so much more than this.\"\n\nAndrea is silent for a moment, refusing to look at you again. When she does look at you, the raging fire has calmed, a defeated flame in its place. She doesn't return your smile. \"Tiran,\" she says, the sound of your name from her mouth causing an odd shiver through you. Her voice is strong, all quivering gone. \"The girl you met all those years ago was in a lot of pain, so much pain it hurts for me to think about it. That was what made her special to you.\"\n\nYou shake your head. \"That's not tr—\"\n\n\"It is. You don't like me now because I'm happy. That's what's boring to you. You want anger and sadness and loneliness, you thrive on it, and in that girl I used to be, you found it in abundance. I don't want to be that girl, though. How I felt back then was hell for me. I will not apologize for not wanting to go back to that.\"\n\nFor a moment, you almost understand how a human feels when they forget something. You have known Andrea for ten years, became more familiar with her than you have any other being in your existence, human or otherwise. You know her favourite restaurant, her fears, her pet peeves. You know things you've never cared to learn about any other human because it felt irrelevant, but with Andrea, you've never been able to learn enough. No matter how hard you've tried, you haven't been able to fight this fondness you've felt for a human and it's fascinated you like nothing else ever has. Now, though, you don't recognize her at all. She isn't something unknown in an eternity where you know everything. She isn't interesting and exciting. She's a dull, boring human. That odd, warm feeling she and only she has ever managed to produce seems like it was never there at all.\n\n\"If I had met this Andrea the day you summoned me,\" you tell her coldly, \"I would have never bothered with you again.\"\n\nAndrea places her hand on the church doors. She smiles at you, but it's a pitying smile. \"The one thing you've taught me, Tiran, is that being a human in hell is not the worst thing someone can experience. It's having to live an eternity as a being created by hell.\"", "I can still remember the moment my surroundings changed, when I was pulled from my ethereal dwelling, to someone more corporeal, more whole. I remember that surprised gasp, remember the shock and fear giving way to curiosity...for not one being, but for two. I was still a fledgling servant of the darkness, but the human...the boy was truly a young thing. Young, but so full of life, of light...so different from what I had known. I expected demands, commands...the sharp sensation of pain to reiterate my existence, my place in servitude. Instead I found compassion...and only companionship was demanded.\n\nNo...not \"demanded.\" Requested.\n\nI was grateful the world of light allowed just as many shadows. I could hide in the peripheral when necessary, as insisted by the human. To those he was the offspring of, he was simply relaying tales of the fantastic things his \"imaginary friend\" could do, but my abilities were no mere fantasy...the boy seemed endlessly entertained by the most paltry of transformations and acts of camouflage. When not asking these of me, I was regaled with the stories of his life, the problems a child possessed and the fantasies and dreams that colored his mind and would shape his future. I was fascinated, perhaps not so much by the thoughts themselves, but the uncertainty of his future, his hopeful spirit...the freedom to imagine and believe that he could be something far beyond what he was now. To not be bound in servitude and the fate of one's kind...\n\nYears within the world of the light passed, with I watching close nearby for the child's development, observing him age and change before my eyes. The closed-off style of life began to alter, as he became companions with more like himself, so varied in their looks and mannerisms. I would still be regaled with his stories when he returned from the education centers, yet the subjects had changed from troubles and worries; where before he troubled himself with thoughts of eternal solitude, there was then no end to stories these other fledgling humans. It was strange...as I had merely observed and remained secretive per the human's orders, listening to the stories, I felt as if I had been present for events I had not been near, felt as if I had begun to know these other humans, though only this fledgling storyteller before me knew of my presence in the world of light.\n\nAt times he would tell me it was acceptable if I did not wish to follow his every move when he went to the place of education and kinship. I of course obeyed, yet found myself...pining for the time so many moments later when he would return to his home. He seemed to share this sentiment, and the stories would resume, so that I could bask in the strange warmth I felt while listening to them.\n\nMuch time had passed in the world of light, and the human had grown a lot...and I had changed in ways I had not thought possible. However, the time spent in this indulgent dream of an existence had blinded me to the plight that was about to take place. While I was bound to the human that had summoned me and served loyally as was expected of me...the rights of ownership upon me had not been severed from the previous holder, merely taken.\n\nIt had taken them this long to find and muster the strength to appear where I had been removed to, but in the dark of the night within the world of light, their stifling presence could be felt. Trembling for reasons they knew not, my human shook beneath their night covers, unaware why the heat was leaving them.\n\nNot once had those of my kind thought it possible to strike against their masters, their creators...but in reverence to the one who taught me the warmth the world of light could contain, I would be the first.\n\nI would not allow them to take the light away from my human...my friend.", "There are a great many things that a dignified Lord of Hell can say upon being summoned. Some demons spend years writing soliloquies in preparation for their summon. Razzagaroth was no exception. He had put together an entire collection of memos and missives for all occasions. From the young rebellious mage playing with magic beyond his ken, to the old bearded wizard reaching deeper than his means, he had the right words to inspire terror in each of them. The first words between them would set the stage for who held the power in the relationship. Do you tempt them? Threaten them? Trick them with kindness and false promises? Razzagaroth thought he was ready for everything, and was even flicking through some mental notes when the light shone down from the fiery skies of Hell to pull him to the terrestrial plane. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nHence, when Razzagaroth found himself facing a soot covered four year old girl in a burning barn, he was quite surprised. His first thought was that he really had overlooked this particular scenario when he claimed that his repertoire of prepared speeches were ready for all occasions. His second thought, the one he voiced to the only other living person in the room, was \"I'm sorry little girl, are you by any chance the one that summoned me?\". The words \"living person\" are quite important here, because there was a dead man lying face down on the floor next to the girl, and Razzagaroth had great hopes that he was instead summoned by the dead man, as unlikely as it would seem. If he had been summoned by the little girl, he could only imagine the field day the other demons would have once they learned about this.\n\n\"I am the one \\cough\\ that summoned you, o' \\cough\\ powerful Demon Lord.\" The girl tried her best to seem imposing and dignified, but it was somewhat ruined by the fact that she was coughing in between words. Razzagaroth dropped his head after hearing this. He tapped his finger against his leg for a bit, thinking. Well whatever, lets just go with the flow I guess, he thought to himself. This in itself was more of a comfort thought than anything, as the rules of the summoning would not allow him to do otherwise.\n\n\"What tributes and sacrifices have you prepared to form the contract?\" He growled, trying to seem more menacing than he had at the start. He was rather depressed that it seemed to have no effect on the girl. She barely hesitated before replying loudly.\n\n\"I give thee my True Name and Authority over my Everlasting Soul, o' Demon Lord!\"\n\nThis posed a bit of a problem to Razzagaroth. Normally this was the part where the Wizard and the Demon would do a bit of haggling before settling on a fair compensation for services rendered. The fact that the small child had started with the highest possible offer left him at a bit of a loss. Of course such offerings were not to be looked upon lightly, a True Name gave the demon power over the wizard, and all demons craved the souls of magi. The only issue then is the kind of work that would constitute such a payment. Nothing less than a full lifetime of servitude would cover such a high fee. Razzagaroth wasn't in too much of a rush here. He could simply wait for the barn to burn down and kill the girl, and then the summoning would fail without a contract. The terms were awfully tempting however.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Alright girl, I accept.\" he said, switching from the growling to a more magnanimous voice. The girl barely flinched as the contract was formed. Razzagaroth was rather surprised, as the pain of having your soul branded by a demon's mark wasn't something to scoff at. \"Now tell me what the first order of business will be, I guess?\" he said in the same magnanimous tone. This, coupled with the fading of the summoning circle created a rather pleasing aesthetic picture in his opinion. That pleasing aesthetic was rather crudely crushed by the girl's next words however.\n\n\"Tell me your \\cough\\ True Name.\" Razzagaroth grimaced at this. He would have to comply with this given the payment, but it would negate any advantage he got from knowing the little girl's True Name, as she would know his. He gave a mean look at the corpse at her feet, no doubt she was coached into doing something like this.\n\n\"I am Razzagaroth\" he boomed at her. The flames surged at the mention of his True Name, eating into the barn faster than before. The winds managed to cover the girl in more soot than previously, which hardly seemed possible until it happened.\n\nSo begins the story of the contract between Razzagaroth and Emilia Wintergreen.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEnd of Part 1\n\n&#x200B;" ]	4
	[WP] Your least favorite teacher asks you to stay after school one day because you are failing. As you start to get out your things, they say, "Put your things away. We arent tutoring. The Student/Teacher Games are starting soon and you and I got paired together. This is your first practice."	[ "“Uhh...so is this supposed to be a gross porno then? Or…?\n\n“No!” Mr. Hemmingsworth swished his hand through the air. “No, no no no no.” I sighed relief, shrugging under the straps on my shoulders. “No.” He added, once more, for good measure, a bit of disgust twitching on his upper lip.\n\n“Well you’re not exactly my idea of homoerotic subtext either, Mr. H.”\nHe was the grungy, grumpy, and historically monotonous math teacher who had plagued Hillsdale Preparatory Academy for the last ten years. Tenured. He didn’t bother to shave anymore. Hell, he didn’t bother to teach. I decided he wasn’t worth my time on the first day when he plopped down with his feet on his desk and pointed to the blackboard. Ugh. He still used chalk, like Satan didn’t have better things to do than assault my ears.\n\n“I just had to get paired with you. Why couldn’t I get one of the smart kids?” He huffed at the ceiling.\n\nI scoffed. “If I’m not failing, then I’m leaving. Catch you—”\n\n“You can’t leave.” My eyebrow shot up as Mr. H grabbed me around the wrist. Seeming to realize that I had no qualms about kicking his old, white ass, he withdrew just as quickly, rolling his eyes. “If you leave,” he explained with the patience of an anger management student to a toddler. “We will be disqualified. And if we are disqualified, then you will fail. My class and all the others. This competition is too important to just walk away from.”\n\n“Competition? Mr. H, are you having a stroke? The “Student/Teacher games” isn’t a thing. What kind of shit is that?”\n\nHe looked like he was about to have an aneurysm as he massaged two fingers into a temple. “Jesus Christ. Couldn’t get Suzy Front-Row. No, I have to get Back-in-Black, sneaking headphones through his jacket sleeve. Yeah, don’t think I don’t see that. Why can’t you just do what I say. I’m an adult. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to—”\n“K. Bye,” Again, he reached after me.\n\n“Okay, okay,” He sighed. “There’s a prize. For you, probably college tuition. Or they could pay off your double-wide,for all I care.” It was a low blow for a scholarship student. “For me, well...that’s personal. But I’ll be damned if I can’t carry your dead weight.”\n\n“You?” I evaluated him, looking him up and down. “Carry my dead weight? You’re half a corpse.”\n\n“I am the greatest mathematician on this side of the planet.” I rolled my eyes. He had only said it a thousand times. “And you’re a-a walking attitude problem!”\n\n“And together we fight crime.”\n\n“Noo,” He elongated the word. “Together we get rich.” It’s a five million dollar prize to first place. The teachers usually give it to their school.” he scoffed. “Losers...If we win, you can have...say a thousand bucks.”\n\n“Try half.”\n\n“Fine, $500.”\n\n“2.5 million dollars.”\n\n“Half?”\n\n“Half.”\n\nMr. H hesitated for several moments, bearing into me with blue eyes that looked like they belonged to an ice wraith. “Fine.” It was like it was physically painful for him to extend his hand.\n\nI shook it.\n\n“I’m in,”\n" ]	1
	[WP] The monster under your bed died. A new one moves in and comes to you to discuss rent and house rules.	[ "“Hey, buddy.”\n\nThe voice emanated softly from the space under my bed. My eyes flew open, and every hair on my body stood erect. \n\n“Hey, buddy!” \n\nI sat up in my bed and clutched my Red Ranger action figure to my chest.\n\n“Um,” I said, small voice cracking with awkward terror. “Yeah?”\n\n“Hey! Yeah. Um, so this is a little awkward, ha-ha, um.” He trailed off. “Okay, so, my name is Gzk’Na-cxtil, and I’m replacing Steve.” \n\nI blinked at the darkness of my bedroom. Steve? \n\n“What in the fuck is going on?” I had at some point in the ramblings of this disembodied voice become thoroughly confused.\n\n“Jeez, someone’s got an adult vocabulary.” I felt him pause. “Okay, so, like, you know how you always hear that one bedspring go ‘bing!’ every night right as you’re drifting off?”\n\n“Wh— what?” \n\n“Yeah, man. That was Steve.”\n\nA clearer mental picture materialized in my mind’s eye. \n\n“You’re the monster under my bed?”\n\n“Now I am.”\n\n“Are you the one in the closet, too?”\n\n“Nah, that’s Stacey. She actually telecommutes from Cleveland.”\n\nMy sudden silence seemed only to increase the bizarre and inherent awkwardness of the situation. I heard the rustling of paper and a series of noncommital grunts.\n\n“Oh man, uh oh. Oh jeez, I screwed up.” Gzk’Na-cxtil audibly exhaled for a full ten seconds. “It says on my training sheet do not address the child. Shit, bro.”\n\n“Um,” I said.\n\n“Oh man, please dude, don’t fuckin’ tell my supervisor, dude. If I lose this job, my wife’s gonna leave me.”\n\nI felt my eyebrows involuntary shoot towards my scalp. Words failed me for a few horrific minutes of social tension, the terror of boogeymen having fled with the admission that a woman from Cleveland named Stacey had tormented me from my closet every night since kindergarten.\n\n“Dude?” Poor Gzk’Na-cxtil’s fearfulness pierced the darkness and deflated my childlike, grandiose soul-searching.\n\n“Okay, Gzk’Na-cxtil,” I said at last, and with only the slightest trace of sarcasm. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”\n\n“Great! Sorry about that. You’re a real bro.” It was the last I heard of Gzk’Na-cxtil, beyond the nightly twanging of my bedspring.", "He slinks into the chair. And when I say “slink”, I mean slink. He isn’t jointed like you or I. He is more like a worm, with pulsing segments.\n\n“So,” he says, with a raspy voice that is otherwise very business-like. “Let’s get down to tacks. How much are we looking at?”\n\nI tilt my head. Despite the terror I feel, looking into that toothed circular maw, I honestly don’t know what this creature is referring to. “Uh, looking at?”\n\nThere is a rattling sound which emerges from the maw. A bit too late, I realize that it is the sound for exasperation, but in the moment, I almost get up out of my seat to flee in terror. “Oh, come on,” the creature says, “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. You know you’ve got me over a barrel. How much did the former tenant pay?”\n\n“Uh, pay?” I shake my head slowly. “I- I, uh, never got paid anything.”\n\nThe slinky “arms” flail and slap other parts of the wormy trunk. “Ha, that’s a good one!” the creature croaks. “Prime real estate like this? Tell me if I’m wrong, what does a place like this run? 1000? 2000?”\n\n“No, I mean it,” I say, “I never received a penny.” My face starts to contort in annoyance. “Why, was I supposed to?”\n\nA slinky arm reaches towards me, and I recoil away from it. “Huh?” the creature utters. “Oh, sorry, my man. I was only trying to comfort you. See, per the rules of our kind, we are supposed to pay a basic monthly rent. You know, in exchange for the occasional night terrors that we inevitably produce. Basic compensation and all that. Or, to put it another way, kind of medieval and FMA-ish- you watch FMA? Equivalent exchange.”\n\nMy mind runs calculations in seconds. The earliest I can remember being tormented by the shadow under my bed, I must have been two years old. I’m twenty six now. 24 years, at $2000 a month? Why, that would have paid for the therapy I’ve had, and have left me with a pretty penny besides!\n\nThe monster, perhaps sensing my ire, speaks again. “Sorry dude,” he says, as though he is suddenly my comrade. “Not all of us is honorable, eh? Some of us mess it up for everyone else. Fortunately, I’m by the book. Not the good book,” it chuckles, apparently at some little joke, “but by THE book.”", "After the third, feather-like caress of sharp claws along your skin, you sat up, put your feet on the floor, and snapped out a sharp order.\n\n\"Alright, fuck-face, get up here. We need to have a talk.\"\n\nA low, sibilant whisper echoed around your room.\n\n\"We can do more than just talk, oh human.\" \n\nYou rolled your eyes. \n\n\"Oh, boy, you're young, aren't you? Look, Tom didn't pull that shit and neither is your teeny-bopper ass, so get out here.\" \n\nAfter an odd, long silence, the monster slithered out from under your bed, making sure to brush past your ankle with it's slimy length. It appeared to be a cross between a salamander and a slug, in that it was long, slimy, four legged, and lacking in any facial features, baring a pair of luminous black bulbs that served as eyes. or at least it looked like eyes. It could have been a nose or something. \n\n\"Tom is dead. It's my turn to run things how I want,\" the monster hissed at you. You rubbed your fingers across your forehead, praying your oncoming migraine would just hurry up and go so you can sleep before tomorrow.\n\n\"Look, I'll shoot straight with you. Tom was my friend, okay? He was an old, geriatric fuck, as far as you monsters go, and he didn't have it in him to keep scaring me every night. We made a deal. Now I like my damned beauty sleep, and I think you like being able to stay in the house, so let's you and me make a deal, okay?\" You asked, cocking an eyebrow.\n\nThe monster opened and closed it's eyebulbs.\n\n\"Very well.\"\n\n\"I will admit, Tom was good at what he did. Took me a good while to figure out what he was and what he was all about, and that only happened after I tried exorcising him. I know you gotta pay rent by attaching yourself to me, emotionally. I know most monsters prefer to scare the living shit out of their hosts, but you're talkin' to a guy whose been living here for five years, okay? I know all about this shit, and I know that the easiest way for either of us to go about this is for you to have an invitation and to set up some ground rules, k?\"\n\nThe monster blinked its eyes again and tilted its head. It took in your silk hair cap, your loose, baggy undershirt, lack of a bra, and old boxer briefs.\n\n\"What rule would that be?\" \n\nYou held up a hand and began counting them off on his fingers.\n\n\"Stay out of my damn room. This is my bed. This is my beauty sleep you're taking away.\"\n\n\"You can have what's in the fridge, but don't take it all, and don't take anything marked as private. In return, I expect you to pull a fair share of the house work and do any repairs you can. If I got friends over, you don't scare them. You don't even inform them of your presence. You do that, and I give you permission to stay, yeah?\"\n\nthe monster nodded. Its eyes got wider and wider the longer you watched it.\n\n\"Kid?\" you asked. \"You okay?\" After a beat, the new monster shook its head, almost heasitant. Without thinking, you held up your arms. The monster fell into them, wrapping around you until you could not see the glowing red numbers on the clock anymore.\n\n\"I just. He was my mentor, ya know, and here I am, first assignment since he's passing, breaking all the rules.\" You rub across the slime on the monster's back. \n\n\"Kid, I'll tell it to ya like Tom told me, yeah? It ain't about rules. Rules are easy to follow, you don't have to think too much. It's thinking outside the box like you and me are doing now that really counts for much.\" You ignored the slick slide of tears down your chest to soak your shirt.\n\n\"I just miss him,\" the monster murmured.\n\n\"Me too, kid. He was a sweet guy, grumpy though he was. We got a deal?\" You asked, and you don't think you've ever said something so softly before. The kid draws back, and your hands met in the space between you.\n\n\"We have a deal,\" the monster said.\n\n\"What you're name?\" you asked. You notice, distantly, that the hand is strong and sure.\n\n\"Jacqueline. Jack, really,\" the monster answered.\n\n\"Maisie. Welcome home.\"", "“Hi, I’m Dave. I’m the new monster... Heard the old goblin Johnny died after you stood on his head when you got up for a piss last week...” \n\n“Ummm.... yep” \n\n“He was a stupid prick anyway. Couldn’t scare a cat if his life depended on it. \n\n“Ok...” \n\n“Anyway, let’s sort out rent. Last place I lived I payed a tenner a week. I’ll pay fifteen here seeing as there’s more headroom and less boxes under the bed than my last place.”\n\n“Ok, fair enough. House rules. You stay under the bed at night and have free roam of the house if nobodies in.”\n\n“Suits me”\n\n“Wait, there’s more. No scaring any guests OR pets unless I specifically request it. I’ll also knock five quid off your rent for every authorised scare. Wipe the toilet seat after you piss - the misses hates it and don’t eat any of the food; it’s not included in the rent.” \n\n“You drive a hard bargain” \n\n“Yep. Want some help moving your stuff in?”’\n\n“Got it all here in my bag” \n\n“Fancy a cup of tea and a game of FIFA?” \n\n“Now you’re talking”", "##Where do the Spookbugs go?\n\nBEDROOM. NIGHT.\n\nJAMES, 30, balding, tosses and turns in his twin bed. The bedroom walls are bare. Dirty clothes litter the floor. The room’s desk and chair look like they were salvaged from a dumpster.\n\nSPOOKBUG, an ancient many-legged shadowfang from the depths of Earth’s liquid magma core, skitters out from under the bed. It rested all day in preparation to haunt James through the night.\n\nSPOOKBUG presses against the chair, making it CREAK and THUMP against the desk. JAMES’ ear twitches. SPOOKBUG climbs towards the window, opens it slightly. JAMES stiffens. A light howling of the wind can be heard. SPOOKBUG climbs on the walls, clattering its spiny metallic feet against the radiator pipe, making an ungodly noise. JAMES pushes a pillow against his ear. SPOOKBUG lowers itself from the ceiling using a spiderlike web. SPOOKBUG’s purple pincers are inches from JAMES’ head.\n\nSPOOKBUG (whisper): I ate your brain twenty years ago when you were a child—life as you know it is merely the garbled firing of synapses that I shat back into your skull.\n\nJAMES groans.\n\nSPOOKBUG: This life is a lie. Your real body is a soulless shell on the second floor of an underfunded mental hospital in Nowhere, Ohio. Every mistake you’ve made that you play in your head over and over never really happened. You aren’t significant enough to be capable of shame. When the paid staff look at you, they don’t even see a person.\n\nJAMES (mumbling): Fuggoff, tryna sleep\n\nSPOOKBUG blinks back tears.\n\nSPOOKBUG: This isn’t what it used to be James.\n\nJAMES: Work inna mornin. \n\nSPOOKBUG: Can we talk?\n\nJAMES kicks off the covers angrily and picks up his phone.\n\nJAMES: It’s three a.m. My alarm’s for six-thirty. I didn’t sleep much last night because you wanted to talk, and now tonight again?\n\nJAMES shakes his head angrily.\n\nSPOOKBUG: All my life I wanted to be a monster under the bed. There’s an art to it. Some people are masters. I used to have it, but now I don’t. I don’t scare you at all anymore. I spend all day preparing material and when you hear it, you just grunt. I want to BE SOMETHING James. I don’t want to be the kind of monster that makes you sleepy the next day. I want to HAUNT your waking hours in the back of your mind like a mental illness that slowly eats through your brain until you fear yourself even more than you fear me—I want you to look towards death with eager saliva dripping from your mouth, sweet release from the hellish back-and-forth fear and obsession that wears you down into a weak man, unable to leave your bed for fear of everything, too weak to even open your mouth to scream, with naught but black behind your eyes and endless madness within. \n\nJAMES: You did that. When I was a kid, you scared the fucking shit out of me. But now you don’t. So take your existential crisis and tell someone who fucking cares, because for all I care you can go die—in a horrible way or in a hilarious way, like getting run over by a clown car, whatever’s more painful to your ego. Or don’t die, just move to Florida and play cards with old people. Find a new hobby cuz you sure as shit can’t scare people anymore.\n\nSPOOKBUG tries to hold it together while he leaves the room. He closes the door and collapses against the wall, his whole body wracking with silent sobs. SPOOKBUG sees a SCAREBAT, his replacement, flying in through an open window. SPOOKBUG wants to give SCAREBAT advice, to show that he is wise, experienced, and has learned things worth imparting. The words stick in his throat. He knows he is no true artist and never will be. \n\nHe slinks South, towards Florida, full to bursting with tears but unable to cry.\n\n\n\n---\n\n/r/trrh", "A single tear streamed down my face, dropping to the forest floor below. Humans and monsters alike gathered around to honor Cangor's memory. \n\n\"He was a great monster, and an even better man\" I spoke with tears tugging at the back of my eyes.\n\nHumans and monsters alike clapped for my speech. Old bed renters, and good friends, all gathered to celebrate Cangor's memory. He was one of the best. So good that after the first year I made him stop paying the bed rent and simply let him stay. \n\nA monster pastor stood and began his speech. \n\n\"We will all remember Cangor for a list of reasons. He was truly one of the bests\" \n\nAs the pastor spoke cool wind blew through the alpine forest, swaying the tall, barren trees. This was Cangor's favorite place to scare passerby, and I could see why. A deep fog coated the forest, giving it an eerie look. \n\nCangor invited me out here several times, but I declined. Scaring kids wasn't my gig anyways. \n\nA monster approached me in the middle of the eulogy. His long, lanky arms swayed by his side as he walked. He was covered in what appeared to be a thick layer of black tar...or syrup? Regardless it was gross. \n\nThe monster made his way to me, and grabbed me without a word, holding me in his sticky embrace. Definitely tar. \n\n\"I'm so sorry about Cangor and the space he left under your bed\" The monster whispered. \n\nStrange wording, but at least he seemed nice. \n\n\"Thank you, it's been tough, but I'll manage\" \n\n\"Heh yeah I'm sure, but I'm sure it would help if you had someone to pay rent in his absence right? Like... A roomy?\" \n\n\"Uh, no. Cangor didn't pay rent. I didn't make him\" \n\n\"Really?! Even better.\" The monster pulled out a sticky note pad and jotted something down. \n\n\"Yeah....so how did you know Cangor?\" \n\n\"Know him? Oh no no no. No. No.\" He failed to elaborate, and chose instead to show a wide, crooked grin. \n\n\"So, why are you here?\" \n\n\"Me? Oh ya know...normal monster stuff\" his tone changed to a nervous whisper \"and the bed space\" \n\n\"The bed space?!\" My tone rose and a few monsters glared at me. \"The bed space?\" I repeated in a whisper. \n\n\"Yeah! I'm glad you're excited about it!\" \n\n\"That wasn't excitement. You came out here to discuss rental opportunity?\" \n\n\"Well yeah. Oh and to rescue you. Cangor's orders. He hired me for the event\" \n\n\"To...save me?\" \n\n\"Yeah, but that'll come later. Wait- no that's now\" \n\nSeveral of the monsters in attendance gathered around me, licking their lips. They may have loved Cangor, but I was still food to them. Other monsters, including Cangor's family, sprung into action, holding the monsters back before they had a chance to strike.\n\nThe tar covered thing grabbed me and stuck my to his back. An uncomfortable amount of tar coated my face. He launched us into the air, sticking to the side of a tree. The monsters behind broke free of Cangor's family and pursued. Several attempted to climb the tree, while other, larger beings began to simply break the trees base. \n\nThe tall pine tree toppled over and the tar monster jumped to the next tree, and the next, sticking to them. \n\n\"So how much is rent! I saw Cangor initially payed 550 a month!\" \n\nMy fave was still stuck to the monsters back, making it impossible to respond. \n\n\"Yeah you're right! We'll talk later!\" \n\nThe monster continued to navigate the forest, hopping from tree to tree effortlessly, and we began losing our pursuers. Finally we cleared the forest into a large field. \n\nMy eyes teared up as the monster peeled me off if his back, tearing the hairs off of my face and arms. \n\n\"So that was fun!\" The tar monster said. \n\n\"Eh. I've been at a few of Cangor's parties. You get used to it really....rents due the 1st of the month. You'll sleep on a tarp.\" \n\n\n\n" ]	6
[Inspired by this comment.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Perfectfit/comments/9c3on6/comment/e57za4j?st=JLJY4WE6&sh=2e33c3da)	[WP] "Sir, I believe the enemy is firing... hedgehogs."	[ "\"We have to retreat sir!\" cried Lt. Goopman, with a look of unbridled horror strewn across his face. \n\"Retreat? If we retreat from this position, the city will fall and the Vegan Liberation Army will succeed! DON\"T YOU SEE?!, THIS IS WHERE IT WILL ALL BE DECIDED! IF YOU WANT TO LIVE IN A WORLD WHERE A MAN CAN MARRY AS MANY LLAMAS AS HE GODDAMM PLEASES, THEN YOU THROW DOWN YOUR ARMS AND BE TRIED...F....F..Fooooooor\" The commander's motivational speech warped to a stuttering snails pace, \" D...D...D...Desser....D..Desertionnnnn\" Having concluded his speech His hands began to rise, open palmed, towards his face , at a pace best described as super slo-mo, his jaw began to slowly drop, his eyes widened and his brow crept towards his hairline as the universally recognized gesture of one falling into despair gradually took shape, as his right hand met his face, his left hand met the legs of a hedgehog in full gallop, the hedgehog was not however moving for it was deeply embedded into commander Harold Shiplits skull at a 45 degree angle. Shiplits pawed at the legs, moving from limb to limb, wincing with each new discovery, his face slowly shifting and morphing in semi realisation of his dire condition \nGoopman had been trying to muster the courage to explain the situation to the commander, but here it was, the explanantion, now penetrating Shiplits' deformed skull \n\"Sir, we really should retreat, as I was trying to report sir, the enemy is .....firing hedgehogs.. sir\" \nShiplits furrowed his brow and began to direct his eyes upwards in an attempt to see this horrific new weapon that had ended him, He grabbed hold of one of the still sprinting hedgehog legs and pulled firmly, still in slow motion. The spines slowly emerged from the side of the commanders partially collapsed skull, exposing clean round holes, which began pumping out lumpy streams of blood. As the final few, stubborn spines were withdrawn, the commander fell to his side, the indentation in his head quickly filled with a pool of blood. Goopman heard the rustling of leaves and turned just in time, to see the hedgehog, spines soaked in blood, scarpering into the darkness back towards the oncoming enemy lines. ", "“Can you repeat that?”\n\n“Uh, yes sir. The enemy appears to be firing hedgehogs at us out of a catapult.”\n\n“They’re in a castle, how did they get hedgehogs?”\n\n“Sir McStabin believes they prayed to their god for them.”\n\n“Prayed to their god? Is there god a hedgehog?”\n\n“Why yes sir, I was unaware you knew so much of the heathens religion.”\n\nSigh “Umm, what are those dots in the sky?”\n\n“Those would be the hedgehogs sir.”\n\n“What can they poss-TIFURS TITS YOUR FACE!”\n\n“Should I ready the trebuchets sir?”\n\n“YES! And ready the pigs.”" ]	2
	[WP] Earth is not the birthplace of humanity. It was the largest human experiment ever. The Galactic Human Empire observed it from a secret base in the asteroid belt. This is the journal detailing what happened from start of the experiment until the bases discovery.	[ ">Final Report On Earth \n> \n>Frank Manasess MA, Kelly DeRegoussy BA, Doctor Thomas Clinton PhD \n> \n>In the summer of 52.125.58, I graduated from Prime University, armed with only a master's in anthropology and a youthful optimism of only twenty thousand cycles, practically a baby now, I had to bright idea to replicate one of the most complicated phenomenon in anthropology: the origin of humans. \n> \n>I grabbed Kelly and Tom on the way to the ISC grant meeting. They resisted at first, by which I mean the first twenty cycles. By the time the grant acceptance letter came in, they came around to the idea, which was good for me. Kelly was a bachelor's in evo-devo, as she liked to call it. Tom was a PhD having a good time. It was a good round team, the three of us. \n> \n>In the very beginning, we thought we wouldn't have these sorts of problems. We thought we'd only have to secure the funding. The experiment practically did itself, and then it was sabbatical upon sabbatical and all the cocktails you could drink! When we got back, it would be instant fame and recognition, an ISC prize in anthropology, and tenure in the best universities. \n> \n>How very wrong we were. \n> \n>After careful study- nah, I'm kidding. They told me to pick any planet, so I just got a dartboard and a monkey. But what a lucky find it was! Earth had suitable conditions for human development, including a similar atmosphere to our own on Centauri Prime. Although its hydrosphere was a bit too large, nowhere else would we get this opportunity. \n> \n>In fact, life had already evolved here! Not many planets can claim native status, and of the sixty hundred in the empire, around thirty seven fulfilled these conditions. Earth made thirty eight. We took a few photos and observed the planet for a few months while we waited for our grant applications to process. \n> \n>Large lumbering beasts roamed the land, alongside scurrying creatures eeking out a living beneath them. In the seas lived even more diverse groups of these animals, swarming in the millions in less than a square mile. At first, Tom joking suggested we create a reptilian civilization. I referred to our grant application again: \"To create a plausible timeline of the origin of the human species\". \n> \n>So, we did our best. First, we had to select a suitable candidate to evolve from. The hardest part about artificial evolution was the fact of evolution. Fitness is very often, in fact most often against intelligence. As Kelly puts it best: \"There's no good reason to be good at puzzles or solving math when your nearest neighbor might stomp on you for no good reason.\" \n> \n>Anthropological studies on Centauri suggested small furry animals were our most distant ancestors. Us, being so lazy, took that route. Consequently, we had to wipe out the reptilians. \n> \n>So... how do you wipe out most but not all life on a planet? Nanobots? Plague? Fires? Seismic Activity? Finally, in one of his rare bouts of genius Tom suggested an asteroid. It's quick, it's simple, and most importantly it's undetectable. Already thinking two steps ahead, if a future civilization evolved they could not find any trace of our interfering in its development. Furthermore, if it was small enough, only the bigger life forms \n> \n>The execution (pun intended) was simple enough. Tom got a tugboat and sent some random asteroid careening into the planet. Perhaps a bit late I asked, was it a little too big, what with the square cube law and everything. Tom just shrugged: \"Now it's your job.\" \n> \n>Tom went off to do more drinking, and that was the last I ever saw of him before the committee meeting. Unlike Tom, Kelly was actually helpful. I knew nothing of evolution, so I just took a nap and let her do all the work from there. \n> \n>Most nights ended up with her screaming in frustration. The first night, I asked her what's wrong. \"The last member of my lineage died, that's what's wrong!\" she screamed. \"Why don't you raise multiple lineages?\" I asked. She then got up, and hit me with her shoe. It was pointy. At that, I learned to never question her. \n> \n>This went on, until one night, I heard \"Yes! Yes! Yes!\" in the other room and I thought she was having an orgasm or something. You never really know with these Evo-Devos. \"I got it! I got it!\" she yelled, holding up a satellite photo to my face. \"I don't see anything.\" I said, averting from those horrid creations she thought were hominids. \"These are humans. Look, I know they're hairy, but they're using tools! Put some clothes on and they look just like us!\" she shouted. \"They look like a pig.\" I replied. She then hit me with her shoe again. \n> \n>\"It's your turn now, I did my part, now make sure they don't die of plague or whatever happens. I'm not doing this again.\" she said, before taking a shuttle out. For this, most of the experiment was finished, and all I had to do was to keep watch. By which of course, I took a nap. \n> \n>I shouldn't have. \n> \n>I open my eyes, and look down. \"Crud\" I thought. Looking down, I saw a few tribes, but nothing much. I felt a little relief at having not missed much, but still was pretty irked. And then I move over to the middle. There were the Hatti, as I called them, the Egyptians, the Assyrians, all sorts of weird people worshiping weird cults! \n> \n>That's impossible! Anthropological studies stated that humans were logical creatures! They're supposed to be atheists. I know I had messed up, but I didn't want to call in Tom and Kelly again. This time, I was going to fix it, so I thought. \n> \n>So, I came in somewhere near Nazareth using spectral projection. It's really cool, you're up in space but it seems like your body is down on earth. So, what I did was to go into some random dude's house and become a baby and all that. Also, the baby apparently spoke, and looked very middle aged. I probably shouldn't have fooled around with that. \n> \n>I took as I should and traveled all over this place. Here, I met those worshiping false Gods, so I told them to stop. When they didn't stop, I scared them a little bit. I did a few miracles, I stopped a few stonings, you know, to speed up man being logical. I threw out some dumb laws, and told them to \"love each other\" because that's what humans knew. Then, I went to a party, and with the worst hangover since Uni, I was dragged to a house, in the middle of the night, being tried for heresy. \n> \n>I played along, and then I \"died\" too. Seemed like a good way to make a good exit, besides, a couple of cycles was well too much time spent in the spec-proc machine. I spooked them again too, by \"coming back to life\" a few nights later, just as a practical joke. \n> \n>Next thing I knew, they were worshiping me! And they were killing others for not worshiping me! That was the last time I intervened, so I took an extra long intergalatic nap to rid me of the temptation. \n> \n>I came back eleven cycles ago. Humans had progressed a lot by this point, they've been starting to build cities and invent science and all sorts of neat things. I guess I misjudged them. \n> \n>Kelly came back ten cycles ago. The first thing she said was. \"They're... logical.\" she said. \"Why, were you expecting me to mess up?\" I asked. \"I didn't put that gene in. They're not supposed to be.\" \n> \n>\"Well, you know, that's what I do.\" I said. Truth be told, I did nothing, the 'humans' did this all on their own. \n> \n>She looked at the glass panes. \"They're so pretty\" she remarked. \"I wish I could have one of those beads.\" \n> \n>I looked down. \"Those aren't beads.\" I replied. \"Those are missiles.\"\n\n\"Is there anything left of Frank?\" asked the prosecutor.\n\n\"This.\" he replied. Tom looked down. \"I had nothing to do with this.\"\n\nThe judge sighed. \"Dr. Clinton, do you realize what you have allowed? Even if you have not 'done much' as you would claim, you still encouraged others to develop a very dangerous threat to the empire. Do you realize what they could do if left loose on the empire?\"\n\n\"The missile is on the way.\" replied the bailiff.\n\n\"Good, the threat should be no more-\"\n\n\"No your honor, I'm afraid it's a missile from Earth. This is an order to evacuate.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Whenever someone dies before the appointed date, they become a guardian angel, following and making sure their asigned human lives to the appointed date. Ironicaly you have been assigned to guard your killer.	[ "\"I didn't kill you,\" she said. \"I am not a killer.\"\n\nI shrugged. \n\n\"Okay,\" she insisted, \"if I killed you - like you said I did - then tell me how? Because, funny enough, I don't remember shooting you...stabbing you...poisoning you...or running you over with my car... So please; enlighten me.\"\n\n\"I don't want to talk about.\" \n\nShe threw her hands up. \"Oh, nooooow he doesn't want to talk about it! So you were just going to stand there and try to make me feel guilty about something I didn't do, huh?\"\n\nI ruffled my feathers. \"It's not a good idea to piss of your guardian angel.\"\n\n\"Oh please!\" she scoffed. \"What are you going to do? Kill me?\"\n\nIt was amazing. She hadn't changed one bit. Here I was - an angel with a sword bigger than her entire body strapped to my waist - and she was talking to me like....like I was a bitch.\n\nShe narrowed her eyes. \"What? Why are you looking at me like that.\"\n\nI shook my head with a smile. \"Nothing. You just...You look nice.\"\n\nShe groaned. \"John, just...stop.\"\n\n\"It's actually Johnathiel now.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"It's an angel thing.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She rolled her eyes. \"Whatever.\"\n\n\"You really want to know you killed me?\" I didn't wait for her to respond. \"When you left me, I died from a broken-heart. Literally. That's what the doctor wrote on my autopsy report: 'Broken heart'.\" \n\nShe said, \"Wow,\" and looked down. She rubbed her arm. \"That's...that's probably one of the corniest deaths I have ever heard of. I'm sorry you had to go out like that, man. Must suck.\" She patted my arm.\n\nIn that moment, I had to wonder what would happen if a guardian angel killed their charge.\n\nShe, on the other hand, seemed either unbothered or oblivious to her words' effect on me, as she slipped on her shoes. \n\n\"I'm going out,\" she announced, giving me the once-over as I made a motion towards the door. \"Uhh, you're not coming out with me looking like that.\"\n\n\"Don't worry. No can see the feathers or the sword. Except babies and animals. But what's the difference, eh? Eh?\" I nudged her. \"Am I right?\"\n\nShe dead-panned me. \"You're not funny.\" Then she slid into her coat and exited the door.\n\nI followed after her. I could already tell. This was going to be a long, long, looooong day. \n\n\n" ]	1
	[Wp] An angel and a demon meet in a human bar. After a long night of drinking, they decide to switch places for a week.	[ "He recognized me as soon as I walked in. \n\n“Two shots of Don Julio,” he told the bartender. “Plus a tonic water for my friend here.” He grinned savagely, slightly crooked white teeth framed in crisp dark stubble. \n\nWith a sigh, I folded my suit jacket over the seat back and joined him. “Barzital. The Deceiver, yes?” It had been a long day, and even rivals can make good company. \n\n“Actually,” he replied, “they have me doing temptation now.” He waved his hand at the room: a few dozen people, mostly in their twenties, DJ playing some loud rap music. “Truthfully, I detest it.”\n\nI let an eyebrow up. “Really? I figured that you would enjoy such a thing.”\n\nHe snorted. “I mean, the end is all the same I suppose. But just look at them! They all showed up, didn’t they? What’s left to tempt them with?”\n\nTo his point, one of the ladies grabbed a gentleman by the neck and pressed her face, hard, into his.\n\n“I didn’t even do anything! They just do that now.” Barzital made a show of throwing his hands in the air and turning back to the bar, then drank deep from a glass of whisky. \n\n“You’re missing the bigger picture,” I took a long glance at the lady, felt her hardships, then continued. “That’s Stacy. She’s coming off from a three year relationship. It was a decent one, the gentleman was nice and mostly honorable, but they weren’t right for each other.” I smiled. “This is the closest that she’s felt to someone in years.”\n\nBarzital groaned. “When did the heavens change all of the rules? Isn’t anything a sin anymore?”\n\n“Well,” I chuckled. “He has a girlfriend.”\n\nBarzital’s eyes went wide as he whooped. “Is he putting up a fight?!”\n\nI almost felt a twinge if sadness, but something compelled me to chuckle instead. “No, not at all.”\n\nBarzital slapped the bar and let out a cackle. “That’s what I like about you, Arcilious. You can laugh at the job.” He took another deep sip. “The other night I tried talking to one of your boys from Valor. I think his name was Doofus-“\n\n“Dulpherius-“\n\n“...and I think those boys don’t even remember how to smile anymore. Thank Satan for the truce, or he would have flayed me on the spot!”\n\nThe old days were different. War was different. Packs of angels and demons roaming the land, not only hunting each other, but blatantly forcing humans to be evil or act charitably. It was easier with small tribes: there was always at least one decent person, and one wicked one. \n\nEarlier that day, Jessica Chu doctored the paperwork on her client’s insurance claim. It was a lie, and it saved her client from losing their business.\n\nDid she save the client? Did she scam her employer? Was it a sin to appease her conscience, or to defy it? \n\nIt was getting harder and harder to tell. \n\nHe sat back and stared at me for a moment. “So what brings Arcilious the Redeemer to this dive? Are you going to make these kids all get on their knees and go to bed?”\n\n“Actually,” I grinned, “I think that most of them going to do that anyway.”\n\nBarzital cackled again as the bartender set our drinks on the bar. \n\n“That felt too easy,” I said. “Did you set me up for that one?”\n\n“Of course I did!” he waved his hand over the empty whisky glass, and grinned as it refilled itself. “I am Barzital the Deceiver! And I know how all of you angels think.” He took another drink of whiskey, but left the Tequila shots on the bar. “So tell me, what are you doing at a bar if you aren’t working and you don’t drink?”\n\n“Honestly,” I shrugged, “I just wanted to remind myself why I do it. Sin used to be so simple. You find the guy with the sword and try to fix him, right?”\n\nBarzital cooed in affirmation. “But it’s harder to detect now. Everything is so interconnected and complicated. It’s so abstract that you can’t tell which behavior is from the soul and which sins are just part of society. Part of the machine.”\n\nTo his point, the bouncer was now removing the lady and gentleman from before. He yanked at the gentleman's shirt, a bit too strongly for my taste. \n\n“A bit rough on them, isn’t he?” Barzital remarked. “Is he ruining their good time? Or is he stopping that boy from cheating? Is he trying to teach him a lesson because he knows that he has a girlfriend? Or is it because his manger grilled him earlier for all of the debauchery that happens here? Or is he just cranky about having to cover this shift?”\n\n“And once we do the math on it all, is it even a sin anymore?”\n\n“Exactly!” Barzital took another drink. “It’s like we lack perspective.”\n\nI sighed. It was all coming clear now. He was scheming, for certain. \n\n“Yes yes yes,” he said. “It’s all been a set up. I am The Deceiver, after all.” He pushed one of the shot glasses my way. “So let me try and be honest with you: I am so terribly bored of my job, and you seem unhappy with your own.”\n\nI groaned. “You can’t be serious.” \n\n“But I am! No contracts, no deals, no bargains. We just meet here every night. You tell me what your tasks for the day are, and I tell you mine.”\n\n“And you want me to redeem your clients?”\n\n“Not at all! I want you to corrupt them! And I’ll try and save your clients. And we’ll both see enough of the other side to get better at our own role.”\n\nMy hairs stood on end. “You want me to play the demon?”\n\n“Precisely!” He grinned. “And if you ever get tired of it, or think I’m not living up to my side of the agreement, you just tell me.” He paused. “Or just walk away from it. Whatever.” He drank deep from his whiskey glass, wiped his face with his sleeve, and picked up the tequila shot. “So, what do you say? Let’s learn what sin looks like again, shall we?”\n\nIt was getting harder and harder to tell. \n\nI picked up the shotglass. “So I’m working a case now, Jessica Chu.”\n\nAnd Barzital cut a savage grin as we both drank." ]	1
	[WP] Your hermit grandpa was always assumed to be crazy, he once said that the aliens will arrive to kill us all. One day he takes you to his cabin in the woods and you find that it's decked out with alien technology.	[ "As Kyle sat in the back row of the bus, bouncing out of his seat with each pothole, he tried not to think of the gunk stuck in the window as he went over his plans for the next month. It might have been grease, blood, or vomit; Kyle neither knew nor cared. All he knew was that it was dark, smelled bad, clearly had been there for a long time. That, and he did not want to accidentally touch it. \n\nThe bus was old — very old. When it had arrived at the station, Kyle had trouble believing it was part of the charter fleet. Instead of the sleek new luxury buses that composed most of the fleet, this one was ripped right out of a Civil Rights Era movie about Rosa Parks. It also looked like it had not been cleaned since that time either.\n\nKyle did not have much to do this summer; he just finished a BA in forestry and started grad school in the fall. With no internships or summer jobs biting, Kyle decided to spend the first month doing something almost humanitarian. He had not seen his grandfather Pete since The Incident two years ago, and figured the old man could use some cheering up and help around the property. To be honest, when Kyle had sent a letter out explaining when he’d arrive and need to return, he was not expecting a response. It had been quite a surprise when an email arrived from Grandpa Pete merely a week later.\n\n Sure you can visit\n meet me at the DMV at closing\n bring real clothes\n -Pete\n\n**( * * )**\n\nGrandpa Pete had always subscribed to conspiracy theories as long as Kyle could remember. Kyle thought the stories were always fun to listen to each Christmas, but realized that his grandfather was actually serious about ten years back. Grandpa Pete had been going on and on about rabbit drinking some weird government concoction that made them dangerous to sleeping children. When Kyle’s had mother asked Grandpa Pete to not talk about this particular story around the younger children, Grandpa Pete actually became angry for the first time Kyle had ever seen. He asked - shouted at - her, “Well don’t you want yer kids to be safe? You need to make sure they stay the hell away from the rabbits at night!” \n\nKyle realized then that Grandpa Pete actually believed* in all these wild tales he had told over the years. Even still, Kyle thought the stories were harmless; just some benign side-effect of post-traumatic stress. Kyle knew a lot of people with Vietnam veterans for grandparents and his grandpa was pretty mild compared to some of his friends’ grandpas. A few had become violent, most were just silent. Grandpa Pete was relatively normal. He stayed up in his cabin out in the wilderness and only came down to Los Angeles for the holidays to warn family about whatever evils his brain had concocted over the past year, but that was pretty much it.\n\n**( * * )**\n\nThe bus came to a stop near Lake Tahoe. It was a beautiful place and for a second Kyle almost regretted not just packing a backpacker’s bag and bumming around in the Eastern Sierras. The thought was only momentary, as Kyle quickly remembered his reasons to come out here in the first place.\n\nAs Kyle walked into the diner next to the bus stop and sat down to order, he could only think of The Incident. Or at least, that is what the rest of the family called it. “Absurd,” Kyle muttered to himself after the waitress walked away, taking his order to the kitchen.\n\n*( * )*\n\nThe Incident, as his family called it was not a single moment, but a build-up of neglect for his grandfather’s deteriorating condition. The year after the frog discussion, Grandpa Pete had returned with a strong fascination of aliens. He claimed that they had visited him and they were the only thing he’d talk about the entire holiday season; it was an obsession. Each year, Grandpa Pete would have even more and more tales about aliens. \n\nAt first the tales were about harmless, curious outsiders who were learning about the world. After a few years their curiosity turned into a demanding investigation about the world’s politics and human achievements and capabilities. Kyle’s mother was glad that Grandpa Pete had decided to get in shape during his old age, but the old man insisted that it was to accommodate the demands of the aliens who wanted to run medical tests. As far as the family (including Kyle), was concerned, the aliens were an excuse for Grandpa Pete to learn about the world around him and improve his health. They suspected he had enrolled in night classes, and besides: health nuts always went nuts, right?\n\nEventually, during the holiday season prior to The Incident, Grandpa Pete became paranoid. He was constantly looking over his shoulder. He claimed the aliens were plotting something terrible. He said that the aliens had disappeared and were going to return to enslave humanity — or worse. He started worrying the family, blaming himself for not catching on soon enough. The following year his paranoia had reached unbelievable heights. \n\nGrandpa Pete got into a screaming match with his children and their spouses about needing to prepare the world for the return of the aliens. He wanted to train the whole family (Kyle’s parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, even the little children) in combat using both knives and guns. Grandpa Pete had insisted that there was an all-out war coming and that all children needed to be taught gun etiquette at the same time they were taught to write their names.\n\nThe majority of the family wrongfully attributed Grandpa Pete’s theories about outer space to a form of severe xenophobia and that Grandpa Pete’s “aliens” were actually immigrant aliens. They had the police escort him off the property. Kyle had felt sorry for the old man then, he knew that his grandfather was too engrossed in his own tales to ever make a stance about the current political climate. But Kyle was too timid to make a stand against his own parents; he owed them everything. So after his grandfather was told to never come back, Kyle just continued as if nothing had ever happened.\n\n*( * * )**\n\nThat was all two years ago. Now, as Kyle was getting ready to leave the diner and walk to the DMV, he mentally went over his plans again. Kyle decided that his family had abandoned a frail, albeit athletically toned, old man in the time of his greatest need. Kyle wanted to show Grandpa Pete that he was there for the old man, even if the rest of the family was not. Grandpa Pete needed help, not ostracizing, and Kyle had a plan.\n\nKyle would spend the time bonding with the old man; making up for lost time. Kyle would really get to know the real Grandpa Pete. He was not yet sure whether he would get Grandpa Pete to dip into savings and hire some help or join some self-help group near one of the lake’s small towns, but Kyle was hopeful that something* good would come of this summer. In the mean time, Kyle would just show the old man that there was someone who would listen to every word he needed to say.\n\nSome time later, as Kyle sat on the curb in front of the DMV, Grandpa Pete’s beat-up truck pulled up.\n\n“You look lost, southerner!” joked the old man in a mocking, but still kind tone.\n\n“Grandpa! How are you?” Asked Kyle as he threw his pack into the back of the truck.\n\n“I been better, I been better.” The old man muttered as he glanced in his rearview mirror before cracking another joke, “Yer not here to try to get me to vote are you?”\n\n“Of course not Grandpa,” Kyle laughed, hopping into the truck, “Just tryin’ to get to know you better is all. It’s been a while, you know?”\n\n“Sure has,” The old man spun the truck around and started the two hour drive to his forest home. He grinned, “You know how to shoot?”\n\n“Actually yeah,” replied Kyle, “I took it up about a year ago. Figured you’d want to teach me anyway, and that things would go smoother if I knew at least a little bit before showin’ up. I was hopin’ we could hit some targets this week; destress a bit.”\n\n“You been plannin’ this trip for a while then, haven’t you?!” Grandpa Pete sounded surprised, “You good then; accurate?”\n\n“Yep,” replied Kyle, “on the plannin’ part. As for shootin’: well, I manage,”\n\nDuring the drive, the two talked about several things. Grandpa Pete talked about the buck he hunted last season, a bad storm that snowed him in for two weeks, his best half-marathon time, and of course: aliens. Kyle filled his grandfather in on his degree and work aspirations, and how he took up shooting solely to feel closer to the old man. When Grandpa Pete wasn’t talking about aliens, he was no different than any other health-nut senior citizen living in the mountains. Apparently the aliens were still missing, but Grandpa Pete was a bit calmer than Kyle remembered.\n\n**( * * )***\n>Chapter 2 in reply", "I stood in the doorway, trying to process it all. The most amazing part was how much of it was built from scraps. Rubbish meshed together to produce holographic displays, antigravity systems, some sort of contained black hole. He started to explain things, and I tried to follow, but he still had his stutter and that think Polish accent. \n\nHe handed me a journal, full of notes, and diagrams. Between that and a sister volume in his home, I'd learn how, during World War II, he and his brothers had taken to the woods and worked hiding and smuggling people from the Nazis. A mechanic, an engineer, and a doctor, they we able to pull off some amazing feats. Then, they found it. A crashed alien craft. Somehow, they were able to figure out some of the controls and save the occupant, and it developed a translator to communicate with them. By the end of the war, the doctor had been caught and shipped off to one of the camps; the engineer had been shot multiple times in the chest, and was barely able to say his goodbyes; the alien had died of a bacterial infection; and grandpa, the mechanic, the dumb brother, had figured out a lot of the ship's systems. He used it to help him sneak into the States, registered a couple patents on its less impressive features, and simultaneously dismantled it and built the systems in his cabin. That night, however, I knew none of that. I just knew he was struggling with some sort of 3D radar-type display. After a moment, I realized what he was trying to get across. A fleet of alien craft was perched behind Jupiter, just out of sight. They'd been there since 1953. He kept sending them a signal. A hold order the alien had taught him. The ships were set to attack if we quit sending the signal. If they had reason to believe their scout was dead. And he'd been sending it, once a month, all these years. He made it clear he was passing the torch. He couldn't stand the pressure, the terror of it. He wouldn't make it to the next appointment with the signal. So it was my job now. " ]	2
	[WP] You live in your apartment, sad and alone, save for the spiders you can't bring yourself to kill. You flick flies and other small bugs into their webs, cynically calling them your "friends". But your kindness has not gone unnoticed by the spiders, and your life is about to get MUCH better.	[ "I had this awful feeling one night as if a thousand eyes were looking down at me, it was three in the morning. \n\n\" you been good to our kind, we have thrived thanks to you and it is now time for us to return the favor\" \n\nThe voice was deep and a bit raspy, I tried to reach for the lamp in my bedside table but it was not there anymore. \n\n\" we need you to understand us before you see us friend, we are here to help and we are many\"\n\nThe voice continued while I desperately tried to find my cellphone under my pillow but it was gone too. \n\n\"...... You are alone, sad and miserable we can help change all of this, all you have to do is trust us\" \n\nThe light turn on but all I could see was black, the walls, the furniture everything was black and appear to have grown hair, my eyes slowly adjusted to the light. \n\n\" if you agree we will be at your service until our debt is settled....\" \n\nThat was the moment it hit me, everything in my tiny room was covered by spiders, I was frozen for a moment how do you react in a situation like this there were probably millions of spiders of different sizes, just standing still, waiting for me to say anything. \n\n\"...... Well what do you say are you willing to accept our help?\" \n\nYes - I answered nervously - but how are you...... \n\n\" splendid, marvelous, fantastic, glorious.\" \n\nYou are more excited than I am. \n\nThree huge tarantulas fell heavily from the ceiling and one tiny black widow elegantly and slowly lowered itself on top of my nose. \n\n\" I do not know excitement, those are their names\"\n\nThe one on my nose was glorious, apparently the boss of the other three, to my left the biggest and blackest one of the tarantula was marvelous, to my right the most colorful one was fantastic, and in the middle splendid hairy and nasty looking. \n\n\" they will go with you everywhere don't underestimate them, the rest of us will be at your command whenever you need numbers to impose your will, go back to sleep now so we can disappear.\" \n\nGlorious apologized and at the same time I felt a sting on the back of my neck the room went completely dark again I fall asleep almost immediately. \n\n\" goooooood moooooorning and welcome to rock in route, is already 7:15 and we leave with this all time classic \" \n\nweird dream. \n\n\" it was not a dream\" \n- said glorious as if it could read my mind - \n\nI turned to my bedside table and there they were the four of them. What can I do with them?, they are just spiders how can they be of any help?. \n\n\" you need to shower\" \n\nI need to go to work I overslept and..... \n\n\" you don't work no more go shower as he said\" \n- the first words out of splendid's mouth - \n\n\" yes you no longer work we have means to bring money, look under the couch you will find enough\" \n\nThere was thirty two cents under the couch, not even enough for a bus ride. \n\n\" the other couch\" \n-Glorious sassy little one - \n\nUnder the other couch there was a lot more exactly 1598.77 in cash, a couple of credit cards and some gift cards. \n\n\"Will that be enough on a daily basis?\"\n-asked glorious \"\n\nYes it will be enough. \n- I answered - \n\n\" food is ready in the table \"\n- marvelous first words - \n\nIn the table there was a huge mass of spiderweb \n\n\" I hunt it for you and is almost completely dissolved ready to eat\"\n- marvelous articulated words-\n\nWhat is the other mass in the chair - I asked - \n\n\" that is my gift to you, the end to your loneliness, a partner in heat.\" \n- fantastic - \n\nThat was the exact moment I decided to call the exterminator. \nHe was the one that call the cops. \n\n\n\n\n\n", "The television was droning on as I woke up, and I groaned as I turned over in bed. It would be nice to have a lie in, and especially when it was the weekend, but then when you had pets, you had a responsibility.\n\nThe flat was dark and dingy, but I moved through it with ease, warning them with a word that I was on the move. At my feet, I noticed a lot of skittering. They'd become accustomed to my footfalls and were always quick enough to move out of the way. \n\n“...though a miracle could still save most of the harvest, the low yield of rapeseed would usually have been absorbed by extra subsidies from the EU, but with Brexit around the corner, it's clear that the farming industry itself may have to take the hit. An industry that is now pleading with government to rescue it.”\n\nThe reporter finished his piece, and the weather report came on as I got breakfast. \n\nIt had really all began with Brian. One night I'd been watching an electrical storm from my open window, and at the sudden flash of lightning combined with thunder, a spider I'd been observing had run inside, clearly terrified. It opened something in my heart.\n\nBrian was the name I gave that first one, but it was wrong. I should have chosen Briony or something. But I learned. I adopted more of them, watched their life-cycle, saw them turning out of their egg sacs in their hundreds, learned about them and what they liked to eat. My favourites were the males, though they didn't live as long, because they were so much bigger, and I could let them run around on my hands like real pets, as if I were playing with mice.\n\nWhen I developed an intense allergy to dust mites, the spiders almost seemed to sense it, and my symptoms disappeared almost overnight... along with the mites, I suppose. \n\nOver the years more and more seemed to gather, and now I shared my flat with hundreds, possibly thousands. Every few days required a trip to the pet shop for pinhead crickets. The guys there would flirt with me. They thought I kept an exotic spider collection, and I let them think it. They didn't know that my collection was house spiders. Though by now I'd seen almost every variety in my flat, even those that tended to live outside came to me. \n\nI opened the locked, spider-proof cupboard to an audience of a million eyes, and got out a few boxes, setting the crickets free. Some of them I caught and crushed their heads to make them harmless for the smaller guys. They still tried to flee, but they wouldn't get far. I watched the result in sheer fascination that never wore off. Funny how even though most of these spiders were solitary, they seemed to make an exception around me. \n\nBack in the living room, and the news was back on about the crops again. I flopped down with my own cereal. A few spiders crawled onto my shoulders and the crown of my head, as if watching the television with me. On the screen a man was talking. Beneath his name was the title: Expert Arachnologist. I giggled. \n\n“...and so the vast numbers of insects this year are not due to the warm weather, or to the reduced use of neo-nicotinoids, but the fall in numbers of ordinary spiders...” he was saying. “Spiders keep insect populations under control which means we usually avoid this very scenario.”\n\nI chewed my honey nut thoughtfully. “You guys got anything to do with this?” I wondered out loud, only joking.\n\n“And so why is the spider population suffering?” asked the woman in the studio.\n\nThe expert shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied. “What we know is that we desperately need spiders to do their jobs, which is to say, eating insects.”\n\n“Hmm...” I said. “You do know how much I hate my job, right?” \n\nThere was a kind of sibilant rustling near my ear. I grinned. I loved my animals – they are the best.\n\nThe next day, my spiders and I visited a farmer's field nearby. I was paid a lot of money for the visit, with the farmer already ringing around in excitement, passing on my contact details. On the way home, I stopped off to put in my usual order at the pet shop. The day after that, I quit my job at the tax office. \n\nLife was a breeze for a while. I even got to know the 'Expert Arachnologist' and we got on so well we ended up dating. Only, I invited him to stay over, and while he was surprised at first that the spiders are free to roam, he wasn't all that unnerved by it. He loves those guys as much as I do. \n\nOnly... now it's a little bit later, and he's laid there asleep on the bed. I'm watching him, and all of my spiders are watching me, kind of expectantly. They aren't all cannibals – not at all – but I know what they mean. \n\nThere's only room for one expert arachnologist, after all, and he does look kind of... tasty.\n", "“Hey”\n\nLuke turned around in the bed.\n\n“Hey Luke.”\n\nHe tossed and turned.\n\n“It’s your friendssssss” said a hissing, high-pitched voice.\n\nLuke woke up in a nanosecond, and stood up, sitting in the bed, panting. He looked at the clock: 11pm. That must have been a nightmare alright, he thought.\n\n“We are heeereeee. Heh heh heh heh” said King Tarantula.\n\nLuke turned around, clinging to the sheets, suddenly very aware of being naked. King Tarantula was there, right next to him. Hairy and blacker than the night itself, with a tiny golden crown on the top of his hairy chest.\n\n“Luke, I am King Tarantula, king of the spiders! We are here to rescue you.”\n\n“Ehm... Nice to meet you, King Tarantula. What do you mean ‘rescue me’? I am fine.”\n\n“No, no you’re not, Luke. You’re miserable. We know that. We are your friendssss. You are sad and alone. You desperately wish for your life to change. Well, today is your lucky day. See, once every 99 years, the current King Tarantula gets to reincarnate into a human being. That moment has come again - now. We deemed you to be a fit candidate. You have already shown superb - yessss, superb! - sskill in feeding our fellow spiderss. You will be a wonderful human carrier for me. Together, we’ll do great things - such as pushing for those pesticides bans to be lifted. I can’t wait to get rid of bees and other stupid insects. We’ll triumph over them!”\n\n“King Tarantula... With all due respect... I am not really sure I want to wipe every other insect out. I mean, I fed you mosquitos, but let’s face it - who likes them? Unless they are the meal, that is” said Luke.\n\n“Yesssss! Yesssss! Delicioussss with a bloody filling!” said King Tarantula.\n\n“Serves them right. But aside from that, and a couple of dead flies, I never killed other insects for your nor - ehm - your brothers.”\n\n“Ahhh but of courssse you did, my dear. Shall I remind you...”\n\nLuke cringed. He had hoped he wouldn’t bring that up.\n\n“... of Ladybird?”\n\n“That was a mistake! I didn’t see her! She just buzzed into my ear and I freaked out!”\n\n“Ahhh yesss. And you still flicked her dead body onto one of our webs, didn’t you? We feasted on her for daysss. Thanksss, thanksss a lot.”\n\n“I thought since she was dead anyway, she would have been of some use at least” said Luke, passing a hand through his hair.\n\n“Yesss. And don’t you worry. We are sympathetic to your cause as you are to ourss. Accept me without struggling, and you’ll have it all! Women, money, power... Everything you ever wanted. I’ll manipulate the shit out of everybody around you, and you will never be alone again. Just say yesss.”\n\n“No! I don’t want that! Leave me alone!” said Luke.\n\n“Well, I tried. Point is, you don’t get a fucking choice.” said King Tarantula, slowly crawling towards him.\n\n“Because the thing is, if you don’t accept me... You will die. I will take your body anyway. Heh heh heh heh heh” he added.\n\n“Get the fuck out of my house! I’ll kill you and your whole brood!” said Luke, bolting out of bed and grabbing a dust sweeper. “I’ll get rid of every spiderweb in this house. For real!”\n\n“Hah hah hah, how adorable. You think you have a say in this? Well you don’t” said King Tarantula from the top of the dust sweeper. “I am going to give you one last chance: your identity, or your life. What is it going to be?” he said, jumping on Luke’s throat, his stinger close to his jugular, ready to strike.\n\n“I will never allow you to take over! You will never have my identity! I prefer to die than live in your evil manner! Ladybird, please forgive me!”\n\n“Well, your loss” said King Tarantula as he prepared to sting full force into his throat.\n\n“Enough!” said a tiny little female voice. With a flurry little noise, a ladybird flew over them, dusting King Tarantula with an immobilizing powder.\n\n“Flick him away Luke, he can’t hurt you anymore” said the ladybird.\n\nLuke did as she said. King Tarantula laid belly-up on the floor, paralyzed, his crown next to him.\n\n“Ladybird! Thank you! I owe you my life!” said Luke, gasping for air and massaging his neck.\n\n“Queen Ladybird, please. And you are welcome, Luke. Listen, I have to run now, but here’s a tip: the girl on the third floor, the one you’ve been eyeing for a while... She has a crush on you. I’d be sweeping out the spiderwebs if I were you, just in case she decides to take a chance and pay you a surprise visit. And the next time you feel alone, make sure you have the right friends around you.”\n\nEdit: spelling and grammar ", "I let out a sigh after another unfulfilling day at work. Realizing for what must be the billionth time how boring and useless my life is, I decided to just call it a day, rather than continuing the seemingly infinite cycle of self-pity and remorse. \n\nAfter the drudgery that was the repetitive process of flossing and brushing my teeth, I didn't even bother changing out of my clothes I wore earlier that day, it was too much trouble. I instead decided to walk into the kitchen, if it can even be called such, what with the crippling lack of any useful furnishings and implements, to get a drink before collapsing onto my disappointment of a bed. Upon finishing the short traversal, I had already began to forget what I even came there to do, then it hit me. I was thirsty. Grabbing one of two remaining clean glasses, I made a mental note that it was just about time to do the dishes. God, I hated not having a dish washer.\n\nI trudged back to my room, with it's shabby bed, and depressing lack of any other furnishing, save for some visible water damage to the ceiling and some horrifyingly ugly wallpaper, peeling from its intended spot on the wall. I flopped down limply on the bed, dreading having to go back to work tomorrow, when a thought suddenly crossed my mind: \"Where were the spiders?\"\n\nThe two spiders, which I had taken to calling \"Eight\" and \"Seven\", based on their respective numbers of remaining limbs (I know, real creative), seemed to be missing. They were never exactly accounted for, I suppose. They were really just always there, at least since I had moved in a month or so prior, but it had seemed clear that this was, in fact, their home. They had just sort of survived on whatever palatable forms of sustenance were wandering about, which I had a few times supplemented with smaller, weaker spiders, in a bout of particular twistedness. I had actually, despite how pathetic it all was, resorted to calling these arthropods my \"friends\", in some vein attempt to soothe the wound that was having no fellow humans who wished to socialize with me.\n\nThe thought of their whereabouts though, was but a passing one, as before too long, I found myself unconscious, awaiting yet another lackluster number of REM-sleep cycles, before that damned alarm went off again.\n\nThat moment never came, however, as I had found myself in an unfamiliar, albeit strangely reminiscent location, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what. After a brief period of letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, it had dawned on me. I was, in fact still in my maddeningly impoverished apartment, but everything was quite a bit larger.\n\nI instinctively started turning to the alarm clock to get a sense of how much time was left, or possibly how late I was for work, but something else was also quite off. I didn't seem to be able to turn my neck.\n\nBeginning to panic, I immediately tried to get up, but despite my best efforts, no significant difference in elevation was reached. I tried to call out to help in an act of desperation, knowing full well that nobody cared, nor was even there to care about my fate, save perhaps for my landlord, who would be quite unhappy if I were to fail to deliver a payment for the overpriced, rundown trash heap I was living in. \n\nTo my surprise however, a gruff, unfamiliar voice called out to me in return.\n\n\"Finally awake, are ya?\"\n\nA shadowy figure, obviously inhuman in nature, was approaching me. It quickly became apparent that this was a spider, but how is it so big? How is everything so big?\n\nBefore I managed to project so much as one more syllable from my mouth, another, more effeminate-sounding voice came from behind me:\n\n\"You remember us, correct?\"\n\n\"You're the former human who resided here. . .\"\n\nVery much baffled at the strange words coming out of this being, who now revealed itself to be another enormous spider, having come into my peripheral vision, all I could think to say was:\n\n\"Former. . .?\"\n\nGiving what could only be described as a grin of some sort, the first spider, who I now noticed is missing a leg, with a chuckle, let out a brief, albeit shocking remark:\n\n\"Right you are, lad! Just try to reach out in front of you!\"\n\nObeying the simple command, to my surprise, horror, and general disgust, there were the legs of a spider in my view, rather than the expected hands of a man. Feeling quite disturbed at this point, I did nothing, though it had clicked in my mind that these spiders must be the same ones I'm familiar with.\n\n\"Are you really just going to stand there? After all we've done for you?\", the other spider asked.\n\n\"What do you mean?\", I managed to respond.\n\n\"While I can't deny that you were the one who provided us with the blood of our compatriots, the ritual we performed to change you was very difficult to pull off.\", Eight answered.\n\n\"Why did you do this to me?!\" I asked, more brazenly this time.\n\n\"Because you fed us other spiders, and gave us the blood required to perform the ritual.\"\n\n\"But that doesn't even make any sense!\", I exclaimed, becoming angry.\n\n\"Don't worry about that part,\" said Eight.\n\n\"You and the other spider, the one with only seven legs--you were both once residents of this, uh 'residence', before I converted you.\"\n\nAt this point, I was tired, angry, and confused, and simply wanted no part of this abominable spider fiasco any longer. \n\n\"Can you turn me back into a human?\", I inquired.\n\n\"'fraid not, laddie\", Seven chimed in.\n\n\"'twas how I lost this 'ere arm 'o mine,\"\n\n\"and how I got this bloody accent!\", Seven said, \\almost\\ jokingly.\n\nAnd that's how I was unwillingly turned into a spider by another spider with the help of an entirely separate spider for the sole purpose of. . . I actually never found that part out. You see, the original spider got stepped on by the next unfortunate resident of what was once my apartment. Really makes you wonder though. . .\n\nHow did my landlord even know to get another person to move in here, when it'd only been a day since I was turned into an insect?\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;", "\\-Andrew-\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs i walk into my apartment i flick the light on, just like every other day i glimpse just a fraction of my unwanted house guests scuttling under furniture, behind picture frames just out of sight like the last child to hide when playing hide and seek. With a sigh i close the door behind me and throw my coat partially on the rack, it clatters to the floor drawing my attention. At the base of the coat rack shuffling back and forth stood an above average size house spider, my curiosity for why it hadnt run away was cured when i realised my coat had unfortunately removed one of his legs on impact.. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI picked my now injured housemate up mainly out of guilt and took him to the window sill\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sorry little buddy i didn't mean to hurt you, no hard feelings, this is for the best\" And with that parting goodbye i tilt my hands and release the little guy out the window to the ground 5 floors below. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nAS i close the window and turn around im completely caught off guard by the Orb spider hanging mere inches from my face, taken aback startled i stumble backwards tripping on my coat and coat rack crashing to the floor. \n\n\\CRACK\\\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe sound was sickening, but that pales in comparison to the feeling of my leg bending that unnatural way and seeing it pointing at a 90 degree angle before me. My head began to feel woozy, almost like i was on a boat or at the fair on the waltzers. Closing my eyes to steady myself i slowly slipped out of consciousness..\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\-Walter-\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe heard him coming up the stairs, it was no mistake it was him, every day after work each step he takes towards the apartment sounds heavier as if his stresses have manifested into physical luggage for him to carry home. As the key enters the lock we run for cover, we love our landlord but he's never overly keen to see us after work so we do our best to stay out his way until he is either in the shower or comfy in bed. Then again there has been times his play fighting has got out of hand when he's been relaxed too, like the time he shot my brother with the shower head when all he wanted to do was remind him that was the last dry towel and he needed to do laundry. Or the time my other brother waited in the coffee cupboard to see if he had remembered to buy more fruit and he dropped the coffee maker on him, im sure he didnt mean to but he can be so so careless sometimes. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nLike now, he needs to be up for work in an hour and he's been asleep on the floor by the coat rack for almost 12 hours. It's ok though we can help. Me and my brothers scurry beneath him and carry him to the kitchen like a black velvet wave gently through the apartment. Oh....but wait..\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAt the head of this maneuver i glance back and notice his leg pointing directly up at the joint....even though he is on his back, kind of making him look like a broken ship with a bare mast idely drifting by. We've been watching our landlord since the day we moved in and i know for a fact he isn't meant to bend like that we need to help him...but how? and that's when i got my idea, that's when i remembered how our kind landlord helped us. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nRedirecting the torrent of my bretheren we heave him up onto the counter top and unlatch the window, easing him half out the window i cant help but be happy at how lucky our landlord is to have us here to help him how he helped us, after all what was it he said as he helped my brother?\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sorry little buddy i didn't mean to hurt you, no hard feelings, this is for the best\"", "I saw black skitter cross the wall to my right and shivered. There they were. They were always there. Lurking in the background, staying just out of my vision. \n\nI put the orange juice carton in the fridge with a slam. I wish they would just go away! My stomach rolled because I could no longer see the silver dollar black wolf spider. I had no idea where it had gone to. \n\nMy house was full of the large furry arachnids. They hid under furniture and scurry across the floor and walls. Now that I was on my own there was nothing I could do about it. My arachnophobia crippled me to the point where I couldn’t even kill the disgusting beasts.\n\nBut it had been two years since I had moved out of my parents home and into my little cottage by the creek. I didn’t realize when I moved here what a hot bed for spiders my quaint little home would be. The home was surrounded my trees and bushes. It was dark and damp and perfect for spiders. \n\nI tried to sell the place after my first few weeks in the home, after I discovered I wasn’t alone in the house. But my tiny one bedroom home was not on anyone’s list of wants. My father offered to set traps and call the exterminator, but I couldn’t do it. It had been easy at my parents home to scream for daddy at the sight of a spider. He would swoop in and rescue me with his giant shoes. But here, in this house that was originally theirs, it felt cruel. \n\nI whimpered and closed my eyes tight as my skin crawled. I was pathetic. Too scared of the small arachnids to do anything about them and too weak to actually kill them. So I tried other means to deal with my situation. I would be the nicest I could to them, and hope that against all realities they would see I’m not a threat. They might understand. I rolled my eyes to myself, I’m an idiot. \n\nI walked quickly from the kitchen down the hall to the bathroom. “Hello Frank! Lovely day today.” I sang in my sing song voice as I began to do my hair. Frank was the sort of mottled dark brown spider who lived above the shower. I could see just the sliver of his long legs sticking out above the shower from the corner of my eye. The moment I turned the light on his legs sunk out of sight.\n\n“Oh Frank thank you, you are good to me.” My voice held a slight quiver that I tried to mask. I told my self over and over again that they could not hear me, nor understand me. They were just insects. But it was the only thing I could do. I Treated them nicely and hoped they would listen. It had worked for two years so far, no matter how crazy. Frank especially seemed receptive. Always trying to stay out of sight as much as he could. \n\n“Ah I forgot to open the window for you Frank,” my hand shook as I quickly leaned up closer to him to open the small window above the shower. “Can’t catch breakfast with out the window open can we. But be sure to stay in the heat, we don’t was you to catch your death of cold along with the flies.” \n\nWith my hair finished, I was ready for work. I turned around to walk out the doorway and froze. Hanging from the door frame to the bathroom was a large six inch leg span orb weaver spider. I screamed. The thing was huge and inches from my face! Tears sprang to eyes, what could I do! \n\nSuddenly from the corner above the shower sprang a dark brown spot. Frank scurried quick as lightning across the wall to the door. I hadn’t seen Frank fully in almost a year. He was no standard silver dollar size wolf spider. He was now nearly the size of a Birdeater tarantula! \n\nFaster than I’ve ever seen a spider move before he scaled the doorway and dropped down over the Orb Weaver. The two seemed to struggle before they both fell to the floor. I shrank back against the sink still screaming. Frank pulled the orb weaver back up the wall towards his hiding place and with in seconds both spiders were out of sight behind the shower.\n\nI sat there quivering for a moment longer before I grabbed the waste bin and heaved heavily. I couldn’t believe that had just happened. My mind was in pieces. \n\n“F-f-Frank?” I called out. “Are you okay?” A small brown spider toe peaked out from behind the shower then snuck back in. I felt relief behind the revulsion and was actually quite surprised. “Frank, thank you. I...I’m sorry I screamed, I just... Thank you.” \n\nKnees shaking I made my way to work. But the incident never left my mind. I pulled up to my house that night and sat there a moment, staring at my quaint little home. If only I wasn’t afraid! I would be so happy with my lonely little life. I wouldn’t really care that my only “friends” were the spiders in my home. I shook my head, stop procrastinating and go in. \n\nMy house felt warm as I stepped inside. The hard wood floor creaked a bit as I slid my door closed. I moved to flip on the light but the switch wouldn’t work. I stood in the darkness, a bit afraid. \n\nSuddenly my fire place roared to life and candles were lit all around the room. I gasped “what...” then my stomach rolled. Frank, large as life sat on the wall above my sofa. The all around him the wall moved as hundreds of littler spiders became apparent.\n\nMy mouth went dry and my body shook. My eyes seemed to playing tricks with me as the spiders on the wall near Frank made patterns. It took me several moments before my mind recognized what it was. \n\n“Please Eliza, don’t be afraid,” we’re the words written in spiders on my cream colored wall. Frank didn’t move even a twitch. I looked around the walls and ceilings near me, all the spiders were on that wall. The spiders moved again and I had to stifle a scream. “We mean you no harm. Please sit down.” \n\nMy chair was pulled away to face the wall but was still several meters away. I stumbled over to the chair. This could not be happening. I was having a stroke or something. I sat down always keeping my eyes on the spiders, ready to run.\n\n“What do you want? I’ve always been nice to you please, just leave me alone.” I began to cry. I was so afraid i couldn’t help it.\n\nThe spiders moved again. “We know. We thank you for your kindness and we want to give you something in return. But you have to trust us.”\n\nMy mouth hung open, “I... I don’t...” the spiders moved again.\n\n“Trust Frank.” My eyes read the two words over and over again. What did they mean? \n\nSlowly Frank moved down the wall. Inch by inch, one foot then the other. It was as if he knew that the scurrying made the fear worse. He made his way closer to me, every pad of his little paws made me jump, and cry out but he never stopped until he was at my feet. I couldn’t move I was rooted in fear in that chair. Above him I could see the wall said something new.\n\n“Do not move Eliza. Frank will not harm you. Say okay.” My mouth felt like sandpaper so instead I nodded. Frank then began to slowly climb my leg towards my lap. Tears overflowed and sobs escaped my lips but I did not move. I wanted to throw up, I wanted to run, but fear froze me there in the chair. The words sorted again.\n\n“Hold out your palms together.” \n\n“I can’t...” I whispered, “please...”\n\n“Trust Frank,” The Wall said. I closed my eyes tightly and held my palms out towards the tarantula sized wolf spider in my lap. I felt first one furry foot than another as he stepped into my hands. I gagged, I shook, but still he moved until he was totally in my hands. I opened one eyes and looked straight at the wall, refusing the sight in my hands. “Hold up your hands to your face level.” \n\nI threw both eyes open. “I can’t!” I plead, first to the wall then to Frank. His small eyes, all of them, seemed to be looking straight into mine. “Frank please! I can’t! Please please don’t make me do this!” I was sobbing. I was a foolish pathetic woman who had some how let things get this far. Now I was stuck with this giant spider in my hands! \n\nFranks little eyes never left mine. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. Just lift him up, I told my self, get this over with and then leave this house and never look back! \n\n(Continued)", "Ok look, I know this is probably going to sound insane, but I think the spiders in my apartment are doing something... Odd. Not charlotte's web odd, but odd.\n\nSee I have a special mental case, like a reverse arachnophobia. I love the spiders in my room, killing bugs, keeping my house free of mites and roaches, and especially keeping their webs out of sight. And I ESPECIALLY love the tarantula. But as of recently, I noticed that more and more spiders started coming into my house. Like I normally do, I leave out small bowls of fruit to attract insects for the spiders to feast on. But it appears that with the influx of spiders, I’m now feeding them ground beef, apparently spiders like that. But last night things changed.\n\nI awoke from my sleep in the middle of the night to find my entire room was filled with spider webs. I wasn’t scared, but I was creeped out. Then I saw the tarantula climb up on my bed. It looked like it was trying to point upwards, so I looked up. And there above me, were not 1, not 20, but over 1000 spiders just looking down at me. I looked back at the tarantula who, with the help of 20 other spiders, was holding my phone on a text to speech app. They said, “hello Matt”. I was kinda shocked that they know how to operate my phone, but I replied, “h-hi spiders” in a nervous tone. They said “we’ve seen what you do for us, feeding us and attracting insects for us to eat, and we thank you for that, so in return, we will grant you a wish, within limits of course, but we will do all in our power to do it”. Thinking about it, I contemplated what I could ask for. But what if they couldn’t really grant wishes. They said within limits, so maybe that limits it to a sandwich. I really don’t need anything new at the moment, so I’ll make a joke wish. “I wish to be able to communicate with all insects and be considered royalty amongst the insect nations.” The spiders replied, “very well, we will do all we can in order to make that happen.” After that, I saw many green looking spiders dropping onto my body. One bit me on the neck and I passed out on the spot.\n\nThe next morning I awoke to something very odd. I looked around and I was no longer on a bed, I was in a giant cave with a massive spider web beneath me. There were spiders, scorpions, bees, and wasps alike, all around me. And I could understand them, I could hear them talking gossip about other bugs, and what food tasted the best. But the weirdest thing about this, were my legs. From the waste up, I was shirtless and normal. From the waste down, I had spider legs. Although I felt like I should be in shock, I wasn’t. I felt like I got what I asked for. And honestly, I like having these legs. They allow me more mobility, and allow me to walk through my new kingdom of insects freely. I’m no longer confined to that dead end life. Now, I am a king.", "Bump. The neighbors are at it again. Great. I’m just trying to get some sleep. I know it’s Friday night. But still. Some of us need their sleep.\n\nBump. Might as well get up. Desperately need to pee.\n\nI reached for my cell and used the flashlight. Thousands of little eyes on the walls, on the ceiling, on the bed… were looking back at me. Suddenly I was very much awake. I turned on my bedside lamp. Spiders. There were more than the ones I normally saw in the appartment. I did recognize Maxie, the jumping spider from the bathroom. With a series of quick little jumps, he approached me. I was too terrified to move. He jumped on the screen of my smartphone. What seemed to be a chaotic display of jumping prowess actually opened a notepad. A notepad with as message. “Hello Jonathan.”\n\nMaxie was looking at me with his largest eyes. “Um… Hello?”\n\nHe darted over the screen, typing letter per letter with his body. “We as your roommates want to show our appreciation.”\n\n“Appreciation? For what?”\n\n“For feeding us. Instead of killing us on sight. Or chucking us out in the freezing winter. You could have done that, but you didn’t. You gave us names and made sure our abdomens were filled. It allowed us to thrive. Even the males survived. The males that are normally eaten by the females during courtship. All thanks to you.”\n\nFeeding them. The bugs. The bugs that I had zapped with the electric fly swatter. The ones I had tossed into the webs.\n\n“We know you are sad.”\n\n“Sad? No no no, I’m not sad. I am a bit scared now. I did not know there were so many of you guys.”\n\n“You are right. These are not only the spiders of your apartment. These are all the spiders from the entire building. They are helping.”\n\n“Helping? With what?”\n\n“A surprise.”\n\nNow I was really unnerved. What possible surprise could spiders present a human?\n\n“You see Jonathan, you are much like us: a lurker.”\n\n“A lurker? You mean like a creep?”\n\n“No. We lurk in webs or on walls. We stalk our prey. You lurk too. But you admire your prey.”\n\n“What prey? If you are so smart you can operate my phone, you should now I just get my food from the supermarket. Or that I order some take away if I’m really lazy.”\n\n“Yes, we know. But that is not the prey I am referring too. Let me show you.”\n\nWith some skittering and bouncing Maxie had successfully opened my Facebook. And navigated to the contact that I admired from a distance: Dina. The one girl that I had a connection with. Until her parents had decided to move. This was way before Facebook existed. Now I no longer had the guts to talk to her. Her profile was pretty public. Yes, I lurked.\n\nMaxie opened the notepad again. “We have tracked her. And lured her.”\n\nThe sea of hairy legs and bodies opened. Bump. A giant cocoon was dragged into my bedroom.\n\n“She is sedated by some of us. Nothing permanent. She will be like this for a few more hours. You could mate with here without the risk of being eaten.”\n\n“What… NO! Are you nuts?”\n\nHe did not blink, but Maxie looked confused. Never thought a spider could look confused. “We were not sure. Could not reach consensus. We have a plan B.”\n\n“More surprises?”\n\n“Yes. To woo a mate, we sometimes offer food. We have gathered a gourmet breakfast for the both of you in your kitchen.”\n\nI was gasping for air. This was not happening.\n\n“Rest assured Jonathan, it is human food. Don’t be afraid.”\n\nDon’t be afraid. Don’t be fucking afraid?! Dina, in my house, passed out… How would that make me look? I was going to go to jail for this.\n\n“It’s OK Jonathan, she went to a bar, she waited for a date that never arrived. And conveniently passed out in an alley. No one saw us, we transported her through the sewers. You could tell her you found her at the bar, recognized her, and brought her here to recover. Don’t worry, look, we are removing the webbing. There will be no trace of us.”\n\nThe armada of spiders gently put her in the bed and was eating the cocoon. In a matter of minutes, Dina lay in Jonathan’s bed. Like a sleeping beauty.\n\nI might have a real shot at this. “Okay. Your plan might work. I’ll go sleep on the couch, and we’ll see what happens in the morning.”\n\nMaxie jumped exited up and down the screen, producing a lot of gibberish on the notepad. The spiders moved off, and I moved out of the bedroom.\n\nI made myself comfortable on the couch after a quick toilet break. One last look at the screen. Maxie was still there. “Sleep tight Jonathan. I will go back to my spot in the bathroom. O, before I forget. Don’t worry about your neighbors. The widows took care of them. They won’t be bothering you anymore.”\n\nEdit: Spelling" ]	8
	[WP] Gene therapies end up not being very good for curing diseases; however one has the side effect of causing a luxurious, full-body coat of fur... after a very itchy, rashy "second puberty." It's your job to market this elective procedure to rich eccentrics.	[ "Are you tired of choosing your clothes every day? Is your wardrobe taking up too much space in your mansion? Are you tired of seeing that naked boring skin with those ugly blotches when you get out of the shower? Are you tired of trying to get that perfect body? Are you suffering from your receding hairline? Don’t you wish you could go to the hairdresser more often? All these issues are soon a thing of the past! \n\nThe laboratories of WWGTYM^((1)) Genetics have the ultimate solution for you! After one easy treatment, your body will generate its own silk like fur!^((2)) Become the ultimate machismo with tiger striping^((3)) or grow a lion’s mane. Rawr!\n\nNo more ugly skin, no more worrying about clothing, no more worrying about how your body looks! Period!\n\nFor the very low cost of one mega dollar, you can make an appointment at WWGTYM Genetics to receive the life of your dreams! Not convinced yet? Clinical tests have shown that there is absolutely no health risk^((4)) involved! After a minor transition period^((5)), you will have a mythical hairstyle all over your body!^((6)) Did you know we have an astounding 100% customer satisfactory score^((7))? Why wait? Dial the number at the bottom of the screen now! All your friends will envy your god like hair style^((8))!\n\n\\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nDISCLAIMER (scrolling really fast at the bottom of the screen in really tiny letters so it is just a white line at normal viewing speed)\n\n(1) Not an acronym for “We Will Gladly Take Your Money”\n\n(2) Results may vary per individual\n\n(3) Default hair color is the same as your natural skin color, including any deficiencies. Any other color, combination of colors or patterns or variation in hair lengths should be obtained at your hairdresser of choice. \n\n(4) Tested on 24 test subjects, of which 1 had no issues. The other test subjects noted one or more of the following minor inconveniences:\n\na. Wild rashes in the transition period\n\nb. Hair resembling pubic hair all over the body during the transition period\n\nc. Random patches of hair growth instead of uniform hair growth during transition period\n\nd. Bladder control issues during the transition period.\n\ne. Chicken feathers instead of hair growing at rear end area.\n\nf. Uncontrolled hair growth resulting in daily removal of up to 43 cm of hair on the entire body during the transition period.\n\n23 Test results were removed from final published results due to errors on the follow up questionnaire form of 986 pages.\n\n(5) Transition period could take up to 2 years\n\n(6) Like the Yeti, Bigfoot, Cousin It Adams, or any other made up fuzz bucket.\n\n(7) Satisfactory rating obtained from retained test subjects.\n\n(8) Any appearance of any mythological being and therefore accompanying hair style cannot be guaranteed by WWGTYM Genetics, or anyone else for that matter." ]	1
	[WP] Religion is a scam and people believing are schmucks. There is no such being as God. Science prevails all. This is your belief. Then, it happens. Judgement day.	[ "Atheists have yet to convince me that they've figured it all out. Science is an approach to knowledge and many accept the results of studies just as blindly as others act based on religiosity. Policy makers writing laws based on structures produced by pharmaceutical companies case in point. The lack of understanding is the common element here. Science is great for explaining how things work (when the scientific method does yield results) but many folks do not scratch the surface and thus treat science (which would be fine if they had any actual understanding of the concepts that c they throw around) as a be all and end all without any actual concrete knowledge. They run around throwing out Science this and science that to satisfy their own egos and to beat down religious people whom they take issue with-wether due to some personal hang up out just their world views being informed by an atheistic bent. Similar to believers and their lack of rationality when conversations challenge their beliefs they rely on the concept of science without actually understanding it.\n\n Scientists do not have all the answers either and you will most likely not live long enough for them to discover what it is that sets humans apart from other carbon based life forms (a believer calls this the soul) other than psychology and it's explanations of the mind ( we still don't completely understand the human mind or the emotional heart) . It only explains things based on our current understanding of the universe (which will likely be completely different say 500 years from now). \n\nAngry atheists are just as bad as zealous believers in a debate and most of the time and have just as much hubris. Organized government and the accumulation of material wealth is the biggest scam. People throwing their lives away to pay off student loans and mortgages ending up throwing their lives away to be wage slaves are the biggest schmucks. \n\nThe moral here is be humble as their is probably a lot that you don't know our understand. Your beliefs and understandings do not make you superior. Your behavior and demeanor does.", "“Seriously? God came down in all his glory and you still believe he doesn’t exist?” James asked with a exasperated sigh. \n\n“Smoke and water” I say, shutting him down. \n\n“You mean smoke and mirrors” \n\n“See! Even you think that it might have not been real” Hoping this might cover up my slight mistake of sayings. \n\n“He was literally flying down from the sky and made all sorts of voodoo shit happen” James flayed his hands around to complement his rebuttal.\n\n\n\nIf truth be told, I’m not sure what to think but apparently everyone else did. This so-called god has turned everyone religious and now even more wars have started. The Muslims witnessed Allah in all his glory, the Christians seen the white skinned, blue eyed and blonde hair Jesus the American churches have always shown, and the Tetragrammaton of Jews was supposed to be a marvel to behold. I wouldn’t even want to think of all the gods in India! Yet I never seen one of these. While everyone was captivated outside, gazing at the sun, I simple walked around- trying to get their attention. For a full ten minutes no body moved except me. Doctors in surgery stopped and went outside, the patients with half their guts out somehow managed to stand up and move outside, cars were evacuated instantly on the motorway so the occupants could have an clear view of -guess what- outside. \n\n“What about the holocaust? If god existed then why did he let that happen? Why has he came down now? Why have so many people seen different things?” \nJames took a second to reply but as he did he looked me up and down and spoke very slowly “Everyone seen Jesus” \n\nNo they didn’t but as I learned before if you try to explain all the religions were seen you get punched. \n\n“James, I’m happy you’re religious now, I’m happy you’re volunteering and praying but surely if you are only doing it because now you think-” I quickly changed my word with a warning look from James “-know he’s real, it doesn’t make you the good person he wants you to become. Doing a good deed because you think you will get into heaven that way isn’t very Christian of you.” \nThis is the reason I’m glad I never seen anything, I don’t believe and when I do someone nice I know it’s because I want to do it. Not some alternative motive to get into heaven. No thanks I’ll be an atheist, thank you very much. \n\n“COME TO ME, COME TO ME, COME TO ME” \n\nJames immediately leaves and goes outside. Taking a second to register this booming voice currently bouncing around my head, I feel the sudden urge to follow him. I know now that nothing will bring me more joy than to go outside and look up at the sky. A tiny voice, a pitiful voice, quavers near my ear \n“Stay inside, please please stay inside” \nYet I stand up and move to the door. Clasping the door handle with one hand I pull it inwards- shutting the door while my shoulder makes violet movements pushing against it. \n\n“I’m outside” a seductive voice calls out to me. \n“Come join us” a raspy and somewhat animalistic cry shouted out. \n\nMy shoulder finally winning, I take my first few steps in the earthy ground and look up. Now I see. \n\nI see all of them.\n\n——————————\n\nI quickly wrote this on my phone so sorry about the formatting but I’m just starting an English degree next week at uni so any criticism would be good. \n" ]	2
	[WP] Aliens use a scout drone to take a look at no man's land during World War 1. They are horrified by the devastation.	[ "Expeditionary report #14376 Location 49.159 N 5.384 E \n\n&#x200B;\n\nCursory scans reveal little to no plant life, moderate to high animal life and overwhelming amounts of heavy metals and other carcinogenic compounds, large explosions seemingly volcanic in nature dot the landscape. The explosion match no known natural event in the database.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAttempting to identify active species: 1 detected major organism type: \n\n1: Medium sized, 1.5-2.5 meters in height, moderately intelligent, mildly mechanized.\n\nThe mechanized, seemingly dominant species to be tough-built but the environment far harsher than it seems they would be able to survive.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAtmospheric scans reveal non-lethal, although concerning levels of chlorine gas as well as C4H8Cl2S High levels of oxygen, nitrogen, trace amounts of other inert gases.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nActivating sonic sensors: Error, sensors overloaded.\n\nAttempting repair: Failed.\n\nAI note: Odd, those were working on the last planet, perhaps the volcanic activity here is too loud. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nAttempting to leave pod and use visual scanners.\n\nScans reveal a landscape completely and breathtakingly destroyed.\n\nFurther scan reveal at least 500+instances of dead plant life and 34.4 instances of dead animal life.\n\nThe landscape is dominated by two deep trenches inhabited by the animal species noted before, conditions seem squalid. \n\nSignificantly more activity detected in one of these trenches than the other.\n\nAI note: The animals appear to be leaving the more active trench and going towards the less active one, excellent for scaning social customs.\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nThey are dead.\n\nApproximately 80% of them.\n\nCause of death: Uncertain and varying from small-fast moving pellets of lead to the aforementioned volcanic activity.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n3000+ new instances of dead animal life.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPlanet deemed unfit for habitation or exploitation, avoid at all costs.\n\n...............................................................................................................................................\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis is my second response to a writing prompt , constructive criticism is always wanted." ]	1
	[WP] You travel from the future with a dire warning for the next generations of humanity - there was a threat that nobody saw coming! You drastically need the attention of a wide audience of young people, and so you become a quirky YouTube celebrity and sneak the messages of doom into your script.	[ "\"Hey! It's Adelaide!\"\n\nI point to the camera with a wink, and my intro starts playing. It's a mix of strange symbols and math equations that I have never once bothered to explain. Of course there are the fan theories to what it could all mean, but most people chalk it up to my eccentric personality.\n\n\"Guys, guys. I am so excited.\" I hold up a box eagerly. \"You guessed it! It's finally here! My makeup palette.\" The box is quickly opened as I squeal with delight. \"We're going to reveal it today! Starting off with an eye tutorial that will blow your minds.\"\n\nMy hand waves in front of my face. \"You already know my foundation routine. I'm going to slap that on with my brows and will get started!\" The camera cuts to to my paled out face. \"Alright! Let's get started.\"\n\n\"I'm going to go into the crease first with a little '2028 Election'. This blue is absolutely gorgeous. I'm already in love. Following that, I'm going to go with 'Shapeshifter' over the rest of the lid. This is going to set our foundation in for the rest of the palette.\"\n\n\"I'm gonna bring a little warmth in by putting in 'Proxima Centauri' along the outside edge, and bringing it in under the lid. Add a little with 'Invasion' to the height of the lid and we're done.\"\n\nThe camera cuts to to both my eyes done. \"We're going to stick in some lashes, finish the brows and...\" My face is suddenly complete. \"What do you guys think? I love the bright colors, and I hope you do to. The palette is going to be available for a limited time, and we've also got a restock of our shirts, so don't forget to check out our merch page!\"\n\nI stand up and straighten my shirt so they can see it. It's a grey tank top with a glamed up alien head on the front. Underneath in big letters, it says \"THEY'RE COMING!!!\"\n\nSitting back down, I wink at the camera again. \"Thank you so much for joining me on this quick little tutorial. I hope to go over it more in a later tutorial, but I just got so excited when it came in the mail, that I had to turn the camera on right away!\"\n\n\"I'll see you all again soon, my grimlies! Don't forget to sma-ash that like button and insure your notifications are on. Next video is going to be a collab with... A secret guest! Super excited! See you all then!\"\n\nMy outro music plays out over the image of the glamed out alien. Underneath it says 2028.\n\nI sit back in my chair, having just finished editing the video. Are they ever going to get it? I have my doubts. I hit submit on youtube and walk away. As least my patreon pays the bills. Until the shapeshifter uprising happens, I'll be able to rely on that." ]	1
	[WP] You are a Mage in an adventuring party but life is made difficult by an author that can't spell. Your party consists of you, a Brad, a Worrier and a Saucerer.	[ "\"Brooooo, hurry up with that spell already!\" Brad sat to the side of the room, being his annoying self (what else could he be? Honestly??). He strummed his lute, making a new song that was only good at killing monsters because it hurt their ears, which is not the purpose of his lute. \n\n\"Fuck you, Brad. I'm trying!\" I snapped back at the dudebro. \n\n\"Uhhh, sorry to bother you Max, we have some big dudes coming our way.\" Adam said to me as he jogged into the room. \n\nSammy, who was standing over the stove, cursed. \"I'm not ready yet! Can you buy me a few more minutes please?\" \n\n\"I mean, I guess I can. But can I actually do that?\" Adam asked himself as he turned to the door.\n\n\"Thanks, buddy!\" Sammy yelled to Adam. \n\n\"Ughhh. I guess I'll go help him.\" Brad grumbled as he stood. \n\n\"How's it going, Sammy?\" \n\n\"I'm almost ready. What about you?\" \n\n\"Just finishing up. Making the final touches.\"\n\nTwo minutes later, I rush into the doorway and Sammy rushed into another room, shouting to Adam and Brad that we were ready. \n\nI cast a light spell, illuminating the windows with the words \"B.A.M.S. BAR NOW OPEN FOR BUSINESS!COME ON IN AND ENJOY OUR FOOD!\"\n--\nalright this sucks, I know. Did my best though. Dont hate me for it.", "Chaos magic is dangerous stuff. Sure it allows a somewhat unimpressive human specimen, such as myself, to wrangle the cosmic powers of reality but it also has its draw backs. Right now I am wondering if I tweaked the fabric of reality too much by conjuring up a mountain sized fireball to lay waste to the brigade of goblins which was mounting an assault on the small village of Kulhiem. Since that fateful day I can’t stop hearing a mysterious mumbling voice in my ears narrating daily activities of my adventuring party and those nearby.\n\nAdding to that my powers are on the fritz. My attempts to extinguish the spreading forest fire which resulted from the fireball resulted in all of the horses abruptly coming to a halt. I was trying to conjure up a calming rain but I swear that mumbling voice said I conjoined up a clamming rein. I spent all of last night trying to focus my powers over chaos to restore the fabric of reality but that blasted voice said that I was restoring the far brick of realty and I managed to rebuild a nice brick home that had been abandoned due to the encroaching goblin hordes.\n\nThere have been other developments as well, especially to the members of group. Our beloved sorceress Syrah Rosendahl has taken to drinking heavily and calling herself a Saucerer. Her natural magical talents have since been spent conjuring refills for her wineskin. Braddock Humeuring our traveling minstrel and my magical apprentice now has an obsession with getting his band back together. He insist on being referred to as Brad and tore holes in all of his clothes. Finally our hired muscle Herkul Bekymre, who was always a bit overbearing on all of our travel details and safety, has become over demanding and persnickety with his planning . He spends all morning triple checking that we have properly repacked everything from the night before. Herkul then developed a sour stomach from his anxious attitude and now constantly chews on licorice root. Since we no longer see him as the rough and tumble warrior that we hired we now call him the Worrier.\n\nSo here I am traveling to the base of Mount Tuho to find the source of the goblins. A task that would have been fully within the capabilities of a master mage, a gifted sorceress, a sly bard and a hulking warrior now seems out of the depth for an error prone mage, a sloppy saucerer, a moody Brad and a licorice addicted worrier.", "Seeing into the cracks in reality. I've been able to do it since I was very young. Little... things always alerted me to the fact that this isn't just some free-will world. No, this world is controlled by a divine entity. Well, perhaps not divine as much as it is controlled by the pen. Of course, telling anyone this, would be met with incredulity and laughter. I would be put away for the rest of my days, unable to practice my craft. The problematic author was never a real problem until I embarked on my own adventure. Being the main character after three books of following a Night that saved the day seemed a little bit problematic. I guess he got tired of the inconsistencies caused by his own writing, so he re-rolled. Little did I know when I began the journey, that my partners would be a little unorthodox as a result of the Author's mistakes.\n\nI spotted him in a crowded town square, looking around with fearful eyes. He was covered from head to tow in gleaming Mithril armour that was probably worth a small fortune. A rare dragonbone sword with an onyx hilt hung from his side. It was easy to notice because he kept running his hand over it, as if to see that it was still fastened tightly to his side. The fountain he was sitting in front of was polished marble, and through the throws of people walking past, he seemed not to notice me.\n\n\"ugh, REALLY dude? THIS guy? I mean, jeeze, he might have amazing gear, but look at him! He's probably never even killed a rat, let alone a Dragging\"\n\na booming voice that only I could hear threatened to split my head in two \"YOR PRATY NEEDS A WORRIER\"\n\n\"oh...\" I realized quickly that this adventure would probably be a bit more challenging than previously imagined. Maybe I needed to rush my plan.\n\nI approached the frightened man, my magic pedant catching his eye before anything else. \"WH...WHO GOES THERE?\"\n\n\"relax dude, I'm Corynthia the Mage. I really like your sword!\"\n\nHis eyes grew wide, as if I had threatened his very being. These were the eyes of a coward in the corner of a bar, about to be beaten to a pulp. He drew the sword quickly but I bound his hand with magical vines. \"And now you listen to me, okay? I wouldn't have chosen you for this adventure, if I wasn't being guided by divine intervention. In fact I wouldn't want anything to do with an impulsive prat like you, but alas, our paths have crossed and now we must become a party so we can slay the Draging King\" I said through gritted teeth.\n\n\"Umm, o...okay yea let's do it! The Draging King t...terrorized my village when I was a teenager. I managed to escape because i was worried that he would come. every day I was scared. I would tell people, this will be the day, and when it finally happened I got out alive!\"\n\nMaybe this sorry excuse for a knight wouldn't be so useless after all, if he really was an escape artist like he said.\n\n\"Come on then, we need to go find A Brad\"\n\n\"psh, what's next, Oh Great Writer? A Celery Stick instead of a Cleric?\" I mused out loud, before having my thoughts silenced by the boom of his voice \"DONT TLEL ME HOW TO RIGHT MY STORYS\"\n\nThis poor guy doesn't know yet though, that I am free to think, without his guidance, and that, being the most powerful Mage in all of Prolaslovica, I have access to reality-bending magicks, which might let met get out of this stupid leather-bound prison cell. I just needed a little bit more time...\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe were out in the field slaying slimes and giant rats when I saw him. He was in shorts and a tanktop, sunglasses covering his blue eyes. \"wait, really dumbass? shorts and a tshirt?\" The boom silenced me once more.\n\n\"Oh, I don't have a good feeling about this guy, Coryn. He looks like the kind of guy my dad told me not to hang out with, before he was dragged away\"\n\nThe man got in his 4 door Jeep and drove across the grassy fields we were fighting on until he was right up next to us. With his engine still running he hopped out of his car and swaggered his way over to us, stopping an uncomfortable distance from me. He smelled like cheap cologne and sunscreen. \"Sup, I'm a Brad, but you can just call me Brad. And what do they call you?\" he said while eyeing me up and down \"Beautifu-\"\n\nA cascade of lightning bolts shot from my wand-arm, electrifying his whole body, frying it from head to tow.\n\n\"No, no no no I am NOT partying up with this sleezeball. That is NOT happening.\" I looked down at the book outline I had taken from the author \"and he is NOT my love interest! Oh, and your idea of this Saucerer? Nope, I'm done. I haven't perfected this magic, but this has gone far enough!\" Before I could hear the rumbling in my head I had surrounded myself in a blinding white beam of light from the heavens, parting the clouds. My entire body became light and I could no longer hear his voice.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI felt my heavy head resting on what seemed to be wood? a thin membrane catching my drool as it dripped off my slightly stubble-covered face. A smile crept across his- no... MY face as I took up the pen in front of me.\n\nTime to fix this shitty adventure.", "As we approach the tome of inhalation where the great lich Acerake resides. \n\n\nWell... probably resides anyway, I mean it is just a book... about the respiratory system. \n\n\n\"We should keep our guard up! I mean, it could be a trick right. Hey Brad, buff us up... actually why are we even here anyway? Our items are meh, our weapons are so-so and he's a LICH!\" fretted the Worrier as the words of our adventure were put down in ink. \n\n\nI sighed. \"Look, guys. We have this discussion every single time. This is what we do for a living ok. Yes it's weird that we keep coming up against little paint tubes in cobalt blue of all colours. And yes it's suspicious that there is a guy called Nobel running every single city we go to and giving us quests. But you know what? This is our job and if we want to survive long enough to get paid for it then we'd better get good and fast.\"\n\n\n\"Actually...\" Said a low voice. I turned and glared at the Saucerer \"No. JUST NO! If you say you're leaving and joining the circus one more time I'll personally break every single plate you have spinning on sticks right now! GOT IT!\"\n\n\n\"Sorry... the pay isn't too bad though.\" I heard him mumble as his saucers visibly drooped. \n\n\n\"Alright. Well, Lets go... what did that quest prompt say again?\"\n\n\n\"Concur the tome of inhalation.\" Said Brad. \n\n\nWith a nod I took a tentative step towards the book. With my party behind me I gathered all courage and said. \n\n\n\"Book. I agree with you!\"\n\n\nQUEST COMPLETE ", "\"Like, come on dude. I need that fireball up and running like _now_.\" \n\nTo think I've been spending three months with Chad, you'd think by now he'd realize that I have not and cannot conjure up a fireball.\n\n\"I can't! We talked about this when you were lifting this morning. Weren't you listening?\" I look over to see his metal comb, Enrique, glistening in the moonlight as it slashes the goblin's cheek.\n\n\"Whatever dude. I'm hella sure we can't pick up some babes over at the tavern if this doesn't end well.\" he taunts over the sound of blood splatters.\n\n\"Fine, here, let me help you through this.\"\n\nI quickly rifle through my component pouch to look for the component that I need for the next spell. I was sure to bring that with me today, I prepared the spell - I might as well use it.\n\n \"Here, I'll make you go _pasta_.\"\n\nPulling the foot long, flexible strand out of the pouch and twirling it around my finger twice, I point towards Chad. I feel the pull of energy from my own stores - hopefully I can pull this off a few more times before I'm all burned out for the day.\n\nThe energy simultaneously coalesces around the strand and Chad, enveloping both in a faint red aura. \n\nWith a devilish grin Chad slices through the air with Enrique, a flurry of blows accompanied by the splatter of blood left and right. Chad's a show off, you see. He doesn't feel too good about hurting people with words, so he pairs his spells with a flourish of his trusty comb so it seems as though he's actually cutting enemies.\n\n \"About time, Pierre. Thought you'd just stand there.\" he sends over a smile in my direction and I instantly feel some of my energy come back. Looks like I can do something to help Hazel out in the meantime.\n \n\"Hazel, where are you? Are you hurt?\" I do a quick survey of the grounds around and see no hint of her around. I see a movement in the bushes, maybe more goblins?\n\n\"Chad, behind you!\" I take out a flask of oil and rub some between my fingers. Instantly a pool of boiling oil materializes beyond Chad and the now two goblins at his side. \n\nI hear a shrill feminine scream and instantly realize my mistake.\n\n\"Shit. Hazel, is that you?\" I whip out another vial, this time cointaining a thick red substance. I controlled the liquid and willed it to form a small dagger. I usually don't like close quarters combat but I think this time it calls for an exception.\n\n\"I'm okay, just a bit burnt.\" she says faintly from a distance.\n\nRunning towards Chad, I make sure to take a flanking position behind one of the goblins. Swinging wide I catch one of them by surprise and slice through its hind legs. Chad does the same but with it's throat.\n\nBetween the two of us the last one didn't stand a chance.\n\n\"Hazel, you okay?\" Chad motions his hand to help Hazel out. As their hands connect, a faint trickle of energy passes from Chad to Hazel.\n\n\"Here, this might help.\" Instantly Hazel's burns close, returning to it's previous unburned state.\n\n\"Let's go, we've got a ways to go before getting to the tower.\" I mention to both of them to the opposite end of the clearing." ]	5
	[WP] Everything was finally going smoothly in your troubled life. You were up for a promotion, your wife just announced she was pregnant and your best friend is about to get married. Then the first nuke launched and was headed right for your state.	[ "\"Assuming the speed of an average ICBM is around 10,000mph it should take about between 30 minutes and an hour before it reaches us.\" \n\n\nThat was Tom speaking. Tom started here about 18 months after me. Before that, he was a security guard at Walmart. We're the same age, which makes it all the more infuriating when he says shit like this with any kind of authority. You can probably tell that I fucking hate Tom. With between 30 minutes and an hour left to live, as much as I want to finally tell Tom to fuck off there it's probably a waste of the rest of my life. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Does anyone else here think Tom's a cunt?\" I said. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy colleagues ignored me, most of them continued to stare at the TV although it didn't look like they were really seeing it anymore. The anchor was gone but the camera and feed had been left running. There was a conversation happening somewhere off-screen but it was only close enough to make out what you expected to hear. The 'Breaking News' banner continued to glide along the bottom of the screen: TAKE SHELTER. 200 MISSLES LAUNCHED... Obviously there were more important things right now than spelling. Tom left without uttering another word or even looking at me. Good. Prick. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nDue to strict data protection laws, we're not allowed phones in the office. The sudden cacophony of vibrating devices showed just how little regard for those laws my colleagues actually had. This is when the tears really started flowing and I left the crowd, wishing them all good luck. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI pulled my own phone out and opened Recent Contacts. My wife's office is about 10 minutes away from mine at a dawdling pace. If I ran I could easily make it there in 5 minutes. That doesn't take into account, however, that I am on the 5th floor of my building of several thousand people who will almost certainly be clambering frantically down the two staircases we have or that, whilst I know where my wife's building is, I don't know which floor she's on, who to ask, if she'll be there or if anyone even keeps track of her. Realistically, it would be about 15 minutes before I could find and reach her floor. \n\n\nMy wife never has any signal at work. To be honest, I'm not even sure if she keeps her phone on her. In any event, obviously I had to call her, or try, at least, and whilst doing that I couldn't try and leave my building because then I'd lose signal. It's kind of funny how, even today, when I can call someone on the other side of the world, I sometimes can't get hold of my wife who currently occupies physical space somewhere less than half a mile away from me. She doesn't answer. This isn't surprising, she's never answered her phone from her office before and she's about 40% deaf so she probably can't hear it ringing anyway. I thought about going back to my desk and trying to find an old email from her that might, I think, have her work number on it - this would ring much louder than her personal phone - but why the hell would she answer her work phone now, of all times? I sent a text instead. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\-Missiles coming. Meet me at the Starbucks by the library ASAP? I don't have a plan xxx- \n\n\nI pressed send and started to make my way down 5 flights of stairs. The only way I can describe this experience, for lack of a better word, is unreality. As I try and descend the steps as quickly and as safely as possible, I'm pushed, passed, prodded and pissed off by my colleagues. Most of them I barely recognize. Some are crying, some are anxious, some are angry and some are giddy, some are in denial, some are serene, some are vacant. Every single person I pass and that passes me, I realise, their reactions, that I'm seeing right now, are the same reactions I would see if I lined them up against a wall and shot them in the head, one by one. Because that's the scenario that we were all, in all likelihood, without divine intervention, facing - certain, imminent, instant death. I felt sick. I could feel nausea beginning to pool and slosh about in my stomach, the same feeling I get when a strong wind blows whilst I'm standing by the edge of a great height. I feel fear and resignation. When I reach the bottom of the staircase, as I filter towards the exit, I can barely muster the motivation for the 5 minute sprint to my wife's office. Soon, I'll be dead. And then nothing will matter. " ]	1
	[WP] A group of sirens spot their next victim and attempt to lure him into the sea, but realize they are in for a challenge when they recognize the man to be a monk with no worldly desires.	[ "\"It's not working,\" the eldest siren said to her two sisters. The three of them were grumbling together, having been singing their sweet song of seduction at the top of their lungs for the past several minutes straight. And yet the single man in robes on the boat was still staring at them, the same stupid smile on his face, completely unaffected by their music.\n\n\"What should we do?\" the middle one asked.\n\n\"I don't know,\" the youngest one mumbled back. \"But I've had enough of being ignored!\"\n\n\"I agree,\" said the eldest. \"First Jason, then Odysseus. We're going to lose our reputation if this keeps up!\"\n\n\"Let's go get him ourselves!\" the middle one said. \"Let's show him what we sirens are really made of.\"\n\nThe three sisters chirped in agreement, flapped their feathers and leaped into the air, soaring over to the boat that was somehow resisting their call. They landed on the railing of the deck, wrapping their clawed feet around it. \n\nThe man was dressed in an orange robe and he had a smooth, bald head. He was tall with dark skin and held his arms behind his back. The siren sisters had never seen the likes of him before, quite different from the scraggly sailors that they usually feasted upon. In another time, another life, they might have thought him quite attractive.\n\n\"Who are you?\" the eldest sister demanded. \"How did you resist our song?\"\n\nThe man beamed them a bright white smile. When he spoke, it was like warm rainwater pouring over their souls. \n\n\"I am but a humble monk from a faraway land, traveling the world,\" he said. \"Your songs are beautiful, but they are nothing compared to my sutras. I've spent decades reciting them, and now I can make them blossom from within whenever necessary. Would you like to hear me sing one for you?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" the youngest siren blurted out. Her older sisters glared at her in disapproval, but she'd already plopped down from her perch onto the deck, right next to the man. \"Please show me. If your songs are strong enough to resist our own, then they must truly be the most beautiful in the world!\"\n\n\"Excellent,\" said the monk. \"Just go inside my quarters and I will be with you in a moment.\"\n\nHe ushered the youngest siren over to a door in the cabin. The two of them walked through and he shut the door behind them. The older sisters glanced at each other, not knowing what to think. \n\nA few minutes later, the monk came back, alone, with a platter and silver cover in his hands. \n\n\"Where's our sister?\" the middle siren asked.\n\n\"She's looking over some of my songs,\" the monk said. \"And she's also enjoying some wonderful snacks. Would you care for some?\"\n\nHe picked up the cover of the platter, revealing a colorful assortment of all kinds of food. Bright purple grapes bursting with color, dark yellow cheeses that smelled nice and ripe, freshly-baked bread exuding warmth all over. Both siren sisters eyed it longingly. They'd never had anything besides raw human flesh for so long. No one had ever dared to bring them food, and they couldn't venture too far from their perch.\n\n\"Is that really for us?\" the middle sister asked.\n\n\"Of course,\" the monk said.\n\nThe middle sister hopped down from her perch onto the deck, and immediately began gorging herself on everything she could shove into her mouth. The elder sister desperately wanted to join her, but she clasped her talons harder against the railing.\n\n\"This man is our enemy,\" she seethed at her sister. \"We shouldn't be eating his gifts.\"\n\n\"I know, sister, but…\" she said with her mouth full. \"It's just so good!\"\n\nThe monk laughed and put the cover back on the tray, hiding away the rest of the food. \"Here, come with me inside. We can set you up at a table there. There's plenty more where that came from!\"\n\nJust like with the younger sister, the middle one hopped behind the monk as he led her into the cabin and shut the door behind them. Now it was just the eldest sister sitting alone, pecking at her feathers as she waited. She couldn't believe the nerve of her sisters, going away with this man! He was nothing more than a piece of meat; they shouldn't be consorting with his kind.\n\nThe cabin door opened and the monk returned, neither of the siren's sisters in sight. He walked up to the eldest and beamed at her. She returned his gaze with a scowl.\n\n\"You may have buttered up my younger sisters,\" she said, \"but you'll never seduce me. I'm a proud siren, and I will uphold my dignity as such.\"\n\n\"That's what I expected to hear,\" the monk said. \"Which is why I have a different offer for you.\"\n\nThe siren cocked her head to the side. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"When your sisters are done with my songs and food, I guess they'll be going back home. But you… you've always been the eldest. Always had to look out for your younger siblings. Never got a chance to be yourself, explore the world, go on an adventure.\" He turned to her and offered a hand. \"So will you come with me on my journey? We can see all the countries, taste all there is to taste, see all there is to see. Why spend the rest of your life on this miserable rock when can enjoy everything the world has to offer, together?\"\n\nThe eldest siren felt something inside of her that she hadn't felt in so long. Her heart beating quickly, a tingling in her limbs, and a smile cracking across her icy face. He held out a feathered hand to the monk and clasped his fingers.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, blinking to hold back tears of joy. \"Please, can we really do that?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" the monk said. \"Now, let's go get started.\"\n\nHe walked with her, hand in wing, across the deck to the cabin door. He opened it up and ushered her inside…\n\n…and she immediately fell into a dark, sticky pit. Before she could even let out a scream, the door was slammed above her, trapping her in the near darkness. All around her were the outlines of other writhing creatures, moaning and groaning.\n\n\"So he got you too, huh?\" came a smoky voice.\n\nThe eldest sister stopped struggling and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Finally she could see the others in the room. There were her two sisters, covered in the same sappy trap goo that she was in, but there were plenty of others too. She recognized a succubus with its demon wings, horns, tail, showing off its skin in a brazen outfit. There was a woman vampire with pale skin and sharp teeth, a half-snake half-woman, a wood nymph, and that was just scratching the surface. All of them were female creatures known for seducing men.\n\nThe succubus flicked her tail and clicked her tongue. \"Seems like you fell victim to the Celibate Seducer as well.\"\n\n*****\nThis prompt was written with the help of chat at the [ScottWritesStuff](https://www.reddit.com/r/ScottWritesStuff/) Twitch stream." ]	1
	[WP] You are cursed to say "I love you" whenever you want to say "I hate you." Strangely, it turns out to be more of a blessing.	[ "When was the last time I'd actually had a conversation with my mother?\n\nThe thought took me by surprise and I froze, halfway up the staircase I had turned to in the middle of the fight. I'd been planning on storming up them dramatically only a second ago, but now I was pausing to reconsider, the sudden realization that I barely recognized the woman who'd given me life seventeen years ago enough to shock the idea out of my mind.\n\n\"Elizabeth, what are we going to do with you?\" My mom said, her voice quivering. She stood in the middle of the living room, and it felt like in that moment I was seeing her for the first time. Her shoulders were tense, tightened up from years of stress, and her eyes looked watery and red. No doubt my doing. My heart almost softened for a moment... Almost. Then I remembered what she'd done, and I felt it turn to stone once more.\n\n\"I hate you,\" I said quietly, and walked to my room. The tears were already flowing as I rounded the corner of the staircase and my mother's face disappeared from view. \n\n\"I love you too, honey,\" she said quietly, defeated. \n\nI went over to my bed and just stared at the ceiling, letting the tears flow down the sides of my face. \n\nThere would be no reconciliation today, but the tears I'd shed were more than enough to keep the bridges from burning. " ]	1
	[WP] One day you accidentally hurt yourself and yell “Jesus Christ!” in pain. Jesus himself descends from heaven obviously annoyed and asks “What? What do you want me to do?”	[ "My eyes fly open wide.\n\nMy jaw drops to the ground.\n\nMy stomach drops\n\nJesus Christ has appeared before me, and He looks annoyed.\n\nHe snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, but I don't react. I'm still in awe when the actual son of God speaks to me.\n\n\"Shit man, does anyone read the 10 commandments anymore? It's right there, number three, 'You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God.' Everyone is always saying 'Jesus save me, Jesus give me money, Jesus take the wheel-' I can't fucking drive! Why would I even need to be able to drive, I'm literally God!\"\n\nAt some point during His rant I came to my senses somewhat.\n\n\"Shit man, I'm sorry, it's just that I accidentally cut myself opening a Red Bull.\"\n\nThe Son rolls his eyes at me.\n\n\"That crap will give you a heart attack. You know what? Fuck it. You want wings, then the Lord God Almighty will give you some fucking wings.\"\n\nAs he finishes speaking, angelic wings materialize on my back. My Jaw drops again.\n\n\"There. Happy? Good. Now stop saying my fucking name!\" Jesus says, before vanishing." ]	1
	[WP] One day your son mysteriously disappears. Neither him or his body are ever found. 15 years later you hear a knock on your door. There you see a man with a very familiar face and what seems to be his wife and 2 children.	[ "No colour is sadder than the warm yellow light that catches the dust in the air as it passes through the open windows of a quiet home. Not when you remember those old sounds still. The whine of a gas stove and the setting thud of a cast iron skillet. The quick and sudden footsteps of a child who is running late for his school bus. The voice of a loving mother annoyed at her bashful son. No, there is no stranger sorrow that that afflicted by those crepuscular rays when they enter a quiet home.\n\nBut a firm rasp of knuckles on an old wood door does shake the melancholy. It came as a surprise, and not a particularly pleasant one either, though there are few pleasant surprises at my age. And yet, I was compelled to answer the knock at the door.\n\nA man stood there; tall, thin, and well dressed with dark hair and an attractive smile. With the man was a homely woman holding a pie tin and two nervous children who eagerly clung to her pants. The man spoke first.\n\n\"Mr. Farbern? My name is Scott.\" He said in a kind voice. \"This is my wife, Jackie, and my two children, Laura and Robert. May we come in?\"\n\n\"Scott?\" I whispered as though the name itself was a ghost freshly summoned from some dark corner of a demented mind. It was a name that has long been absent from my lips. Not until after my son was determined to be legally dead. Not until my wife passed away, with the name of her lost son. \n\n\"Please,\" I said finally catching my voice. \"Come in. I- I'll set the kettle.\"\n\nI stepped back, allowing them in, and made for the kitchen. I couldn't help but smile at the mere sound of the iron kettle being placed on the range. The strike of a match and the gentle roar as the flame blossomed from the gas. From the kitchen I could hear the gentle steps of little feet and hushed chatter. I returned to the sitting area and the man named Scott stood up from his chair. \n\n\"Ah, my wife made a pie for- uh- this occasion. It's blackberry.\" The man said revealing the pie from the tin. The sweet scent of cinnamon and cardamon filled the air and pulled the sides of my mouth into a smile. \n\n\"My wife used to make blackberry pie. Special for the spices she used.\" I began slowly.\n\n\"Cinnamon and cardamon.\" Scott finished. I nodded. \n\n\"Where did you go, son.\" I asked. The man named Scott dropped his smile for a bit and a bit of sadness entered his eyes. \n\n\"Sir, I am not...\" He began.\n\n\"Ah, I'm sorry. The kettle's whistling. I'll be right back.\" I excused myself, barely able to contain my happiness. The children were bickering and pulling at their mother's hair. Their mother replied is soft and firm tones. I pulled the kettle from the fire and poured the water into a ceramic and closed the lid with a setting thud. At long last, my son had come home." ]	1
	[WP] "Lady in the streets, freak in the sheets" You are a superhero who has the power to transform into a terrifying monster once you put a blanket over your head. Today is the day you debut and fight against crime!	[ "\"Susan, I really don't know if that's the best tagline,\" I said, looking over the colorful poster in my hands. There I was, wearing a business outfit with a short-skirt that was far too short, smiling up at the camera. At least the angle was somewhat decent, I thought. Behind me lurched a monster, rippling with muscles from head to toe. Well, except for the head. That was covered by a thin white sheet.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"It's perfect!\" Susan snatched the poster back from me, beaming. \"You look amazing, always dressed to kill, and then you put a sheet on your head, and BAM! You're a freak!\" She waved at my current outfit, a sleek little blue dress that was hardly more appropriate than what i was wearing in the poster, and then slammed her fist into an open palm to emphasize the \"BAM\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Yeah, I get why you think it's clever,\" I said, my teeth clenching. \"But it implies...\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSusan cut me off, shaking a finger at me. She tucked the poster under her arm and straightened her jacket. \"Honey, after everybody figures out what you actually do, you won't have to worry about any of that. Everyone will be too scared to utter a single word out of line.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI sighed. \"Thanks, I guess?\" I watched Susan as she strode off, her greying bob cut swaying happily. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Oh, and good luck at the launch tonight! I know you'll kill it!\" Susan said over her shoulder, giving me a sly half-smile.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI nodded, then groaned inwardly. The launch. I'd have to parade myself around in front of the cameras, give a little speech, let the audience watch some videos of me, all to show myself to the world and become part of the ULS. Finally, I'd be expected to actually demonstrate my powers and perform in a quick, choreographed skirmish with a few of the more veteran heroes.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe more I thought about it, the more my stomach started doing flips. I needed some air. The walls of the office seemed to be closing in on me. There weren't even any windows in the particular set I was in, as they were buried in the heart of the Burlington Building.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA few minutes later I found myself skipping down the last set of steps and out into the not-so-fresh-but better-than-office-air of Charleton City. I took a long, deep breath and considered my options. I had a few hours to kill before the ceremony. I could grab something to eat. I'd need the energy if I was going to use my powers tonight.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFoot traffic was pretty thick at three o'clock in the afternoon in downtown Charleton. I dodged left and right as I stepped into the flow, trying to find a comfortable lane to walk in. All the night-shifter's were pouring out of the subways and headed to work while the first-shifter's were doing their best to be the first to claim the empty seats. I picked the direction that three of my favorite restaurants were located at, and figured I'd decide which one when I got closer. Did I want O-Hannigans? Or La Potosina's? Maybe just Brian's for a quick sandwich. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nA large man's shoulder suddenly swerved from his lane and into my path, catching me off guard and spinning me around as I slammed into it. I started to yell something very inappropriate, but then I came to a complete stop as I collided with another man. What the hell. They both stepped in close, pinning me between them as people continued to walk by. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI raised my arm to slap the one in front of me, a thick-haired man with a close-cropped beard. His eyes flashed as he caught my hand, then I felt the other man yank at my purse. Crap. My sheet was in there. I used my free hand to snatch at my purse, but the asshole gave it a firm yank and the strap broke. How the hell was I being robbed in mid-daylight right outside the Burlington Building? Maybe another hero would happen by and help me get my purse back. I wasn't going to be outrunning anyone in the heels.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nProblem is, they didn't run after getting my purse. Each one of them grabbed me by the arm and began hauling me away, using their free arms to bat pedestrians aside. They were damned strong, I'll give them that. I made a mental note to take some kind of basic self defense classes to at least help me get my damned purse back. If I survived whatever this was, of course. My heart began to race and I screamed, feeling more than a little panicked and helpless.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nOnly one kind soul stepped out of the rush to ask what was going on, a middle-aged male with a suitcase peppered goatee. The man with the close-cropped beard dropped him like a sack of bricks with a left hook.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Shut the fuck up and get in the car, lady,\" the other one said, a balding man of considerable size and considerable odor. I tried to stab though his gray sneakers with my heel, but I couldn't get much force behind it with both of them holding me up. I yelped as they shoved me in backseat of a maroon car. It looked like a newer Altima, of all things. Didn't bad guys all drive vans or Mercedes? And why wasn't I in the trunk? And why, why was I even wondering why I wasn't in the trunk? There were certainly more pressing matters at hand.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Why in the fuck isn't she blindfolded? You can't let her see my face!\" The man from the front seat held his hands over his face, cursing at the men that dragged me there. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You fucking kidding me, Paul? You want me to drop a bag over someones head in the middle of the street? That'll get the cops called for sure!\" The balding man retorted, shoving himself into the seat next to me. He gave me an appraising look, then snickered. \"I did good though, right?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPaul peeked an eye through his fingers to look at me. He looked like an idiot. I could still see most of his face. \"Oh, yeah, I'd say you did. Except for using my damn name out loud too!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe second man, the one with the beard, got in the passenger seat, and looked at Paul. \"Let's go man, some people fucking saw us!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Put..Something...Over.. Her head!\" Paul screamed through his fingers, his eyebrows furrowing.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Fine, fine!\" Baldy said. \"Hey, what did we do with those botched masks we were gonna use last week, but the eyes were too small?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I think they're in the glove box,\" Beardy said, already rummaging around. \"Yup, got 'em.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPaul looked incredulous, even through his hands covering his face. \"Why in the hell did we keep those? Bad enough your girlfriend ruined good sheets to make those. We couldn't see a damned thing through 'em!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Well looks like we'll get some use out of 'em now, huh?\" Beardy chuckled, tossing the mask back to Baldy.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI tried to look as scared as I could as Baldy began to slip the black fabric over my head. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nMmmm. High thread count sheets. His girfriend did ruin some good sheets. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI felt the car grow smaller around me as I stretched, my muscles expanding in a flash, and took in a deep breath. My poor blue dress didn't survive, but I hoped for the sake innocent bystanders that the new, extermely flexible underwear I was trying out would. Poor Baldy was smashed against the door as there was suddenly only room for me in the seat. I slammed my foot down through the floorboard and into the concrete, slamming on the foot brake like Fred Fucking Flintstone. The car lurched to a stop. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI grabbed both Paul and Beardy with my meaty mitts, then gave them a big old smile that they couldn't see through my mask. They each trembled, muttering softly a bunch of words I didn't care to hear. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"So, what kind of a date is this? Please say it's a dinner date. I'm starving.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] It’s not funny anymore. It started on the east coast - a wave of contagious laughter, resulting in homicidal madness. You need to get your family out of the city - to find somewhere safe. Just like all the others scrambling to survive. It’s almost funny. It almost makes you want to laugh.	[ "\"Have you got the bags?\"\n\n\"Here.\" \n\n\"I fuckin hope that's enough.\" \n\n\"It's gonna have to be.\"\n\nI take one last look in the rearview mirror. At the home I built. I put all those shingles on the roof, one at a time. I put all those windows in. Broken now, of course. I drove every screw into that deck, cut every board. Sealed the ends. Never would have expected I would leave it like this. \n\nThe glassy eyes of my mother-in-law stared up at me from her place at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth a frozen rictus of a smile. Her neck bent at the impossible angle that allowed her eyes to rest on mine. My son, my daughter, locked their eyes on mine from the back seat. Their tiny mouths a pair of hard straight lines. \n\nGood. Small miracles. \n\n\"Everybody good? Anybody need to use the bathroom.\" Their heads barely move as they signal a no. Small miracles indeed. \n\n\"Honey.\" She's jabbing me, and I drag my eyes off the mirror. Off my children. Off my home. \"Honey we need to go.\" She's right. \n\nI press the gas. The engine doesn't hesitate to climb the small hill that was once my father. The back tires jump over him as well. One more glance in the rearview mirror, at what used to be, and we're out the driveway. We're gone. \n\nMy wife as never handled silence well. She tries the radio. Laughter. Laughter across every station. She turns it back off. \n\n\"Daddy?\" A voice from the back calls out.\n\n\"Yeah Bug?\" \n\n\"I have to pee.\" \n\nI snort. A half choked laugh I manage to smother. I feel my wife's eyes on me, can plainly imagine the white of her knuckles as her grip tightens on the pistol in her hand. She knows the drill. If I can't reel it in she knows what to do. \n\nI reel it in. \n\nI cough instead. \n\n\"I'm sorry Bug, we can't stop now. That's why I asked, remember? That's why you're wearing the pull-up? I know you're a big girl now but-\" \n\n\"I'm a big kid now!\" She shouts from the back. And dammit she's so serious. I clamp down my mouth as tight as I can. My throat burning. I can see the same struggle, the same fear, in every line of my wife's body. The moment stretches out, and finally, mercifully, ends. \n\nFrom the back, into the deafening silence, the most perfectly timed fart that ever was. That ever could be. That will ever be again. \n\nAnd I lose it. \n\nI pull over the car as the laughter peels itself free of my body, hardly able to see the road for the tears in my eyes. Slapping the steering wheel as something I've been holding back for weeks finally comes due. I'm hardly able to get a breath in before it's blowing back out again, and I'm so preoccupied with my own struggle I barely notice the screaming. \n\nIt's my wife again. Screaming at me, eyes wider than I've ever seen, and she's got this gun pressed against my head, right? And it's just so big in her little bitty hands. And she's screaming that I've got to stop. That I've got to stop or she's gonna have to shoot. And I know she doesn't have it in her. And she knows she doesn't have it in her. And I'm just laughing at myself for trusting her with this, you know? So I take the gun away. \n\nAnd I just give her a little tap, you know? Little shot in the jaw. Because goddammit she should've known better. And her head just bounces off the window like a goddamn bobble head and that, my friends, is comedy so I do it again and again and a couple more times until she stops bouncing and I mean she isn't dead I'm not a monster or anything like that but she's like bleeding and she's kind of crying and the kids are absolutely LOOSING THEIR MINDS IN THE BACK AND I GUESS THEY'VE PROBABLY BEEN DOING IT FOR A WHILE CUZ THEY SOUND KIND OF HOARSE SO I POINT THE GUN BACK THERE TO SEE IF MAYBE THAT'LL GET THEM TO SHUT UP AND WHADDAYKNOW IT DOESN'T AND THAT'S WHEN MY WIFE LADIES AND GENTLEMEN GROWS A PAIR OF FUCKING BALLS OR SHOULD I SAY GRABS A PAIR OF FUCKING BALLS AND BY THAT I MEAN SHE GRABBED MY NUTS AND HAULED ON THEM LIKE SHE WAS TRYING TO LEAD A GODDAMN BREEDING BULL\n\nAnd for the briefest moment it isn't funny anymore. The fear in the car, the screaming, the gun in my hand slick with the blood of the woman I love. I look down at that gun, my wife's free hand clawing strips of skin from my chest. The gun looks back at me. I wonder whether I've got the testicular fortitude to do what needs to be done. \n\nIf I've got the balls. \n\nA chuckle bubbles up inside. \n\nI do." ]	1
	[WP]There's a nasty thunderstorm happening the night you move into your new home. You're woken up around midnight by strange noises and the faint sound of footsteps. You go downstairs to find a fire has been lit in the fireplace with a sopping wet being hovering before it.	[ "Death had never liked working in thunderstorms. Too much Drama, he thought; too much complications for what was, after all, the simplest of transitions. Plus, the rain made his bones wet, and his scythe tended to glide out of his hands when his bones were wet. But there was no escaping it; despite Death's objections, people kept dying during thunderstorms, and he had a job to do.\n\nAs David went to bed, he had a bad feeling in his stomach. His mother would have said he always had a bad feeling in his stomach, but in the first place, that wasn't true, it's just that bad things often happened to him, and secondly she wasn't there to tell him, which was part of why he had a bad feeling. His parents had both gone to the Big Fair at Turnsdale, to buy a pig and maybe a borse, if someone sold one for cheap, but he didn't have high hopes because there wasn't ever anything cheap at the Big Fair in Turnsdale. Anyway, they'd left him in charge of the farm for the week on his own, arguing that he was absolutly old enough for that now, at his seven years; and, foolishly, he had accepted. This he regretted very much now, as the rain was clattering and the thunder falling down from the skies; and he regretted it even more when he heard the door downstairs swing open, and then shut close again in a loud BANG.\n\nThis thunderstorm had been particularly bad for Death; the rain had infiltrated his knees, and now there was a muffled, sloshing sound every time he took a step, which he thought was rather annoying. He might dislike Drama, but thought the job ought to be presented seriously none the less, and who would take a sloshing Death seriously ? To this train of thought came the logical conclusion that he should at least get his bones dry. The client wouldn't complain if he was a couple of minutes late, anyway. So, as he went through the door for his next assignment, he decided he could use a nice fire.\n\nKids can often see reality much more clearly than their elders. This is because there isn't as much education and reason to interfere with the communication between the eyes and the brain. Plus, David had always been a very observing kid anyway. So when he went downstairs to check on the door, he recognized pretty much instantly the dark, robed figure seated next to a nice, if somewhat blue fire. With the innocent intelligence of those who haven't grown old enough to forget that running from Death is useless, he went down and sat next to him.\n\nDeath had known the boy would come; he had remembered it, like he remembered everything. If he could, he would have smiled; it was a lonely job, being Death, and he treasured every moment of living company he could have, how brief it might be. And so, he simply said, with a voice of a thousand falling stones : NICE TO MEET YOU, DAVID. \nHow do you know my name ? the boy asked. \nI KNOW ALL NAMES. IT'S PART OF THE JOB - PEOPLE WOULD COMPLAIN IF I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SYLLABLES THEY HAVE ASSIGNED TO THEMSELVES, Death answered. \nThat makes sense, David said. Once, Miss Riemen, my teacher, she forgot my name, and it made me pretty upset as well. But Mom said I shouldn't blame her, that she has always had a poor memory... \nThis made Death pause. The concept of forgetting was alien to him, and while he could imagine it, he didn't see why people would do it. It seemed rather strange, and not very useful. \nWHY DOES SHE HAVE A POOR MEMORY ? \nWell, mom says she hit her head very hard, once, and that she was like that since then. Do you think it upsets her, that she forgets things ? \nI DON'T KNOW, Death said. And since he disliked not knowing, he added : BUT I'LL ASK HER WHEN I SEE HER.\n\nAnd then Death remarked that his knees didn't slosh anymore, that his elbows didn't creek, and that the tip of his feet were starting to turn black, and he decided that he had dried up long enough. And, as he stood up, he felt the boy shaking a little. \nWill it hurt ? the boy bravely asked. \nI WOULDN'T KNOW. \nDavid closed his eyes, and murmured a prayer; this made Death laugh heartily. \nOH, NO, NOT NOW. I'M JUST HERE BECAUSE YOUR MOTHER SET SOME POISON IN THE CELLAR, AND THE DEATH OF RATS IS ON HOLIDAYS, SO I'M STUCK DOING ODD JOBS FOR HIM.\n\nAnd Death left into the night, followed by twelve mice souls, still arguing about wether the cheese on the ground had really been forgotten, or if it had been too good to be true." ]	1
	[WP]In order to find out more about your heritage you take a DNA test, it turns out, your DNA is 100% Neanderthal	[ "I stare at the test results; how could this be? I've always felt a little different from other people, but I never suspected that I was a completely different species of human. Did that make my life worth any less though? My life still had value, I still had aspirations, I still had dreams. I was still a person damnit, I was the same old me I had ever been, and I was going to prove to the world that just because I wasn't fully evolved I can still make a difference.\n\nWhat actually comes out of my mouth though is a guttural \"OOK OOK\" as I frantically bash the test results with my stick. " ]	1
	[WP] Every soul is bound to the location their body is buried. Crypts have turned into nightclubs. Cemeteries have become more like Woodstock. You however were cremated.	[ "I step in and the music stops. In my head it stops. In real life... err... death, it doesn't. But they all look. I know they all look. My legs go down to the floor and the white thigh-high boots make sure they notice.\n\nOn Earth, people think death sucks. I didn't start living until I was cremated. Zilfonians know how to throw a party. I look good.\n\nI scan the crowd. I'm not picky. Kel-dak is dreamy. He's always my first choice. He's a bit older. For him, 300 years is a bit. I'm not picky. Broad shoulders, and an extra set of firm, thick arms that know what they are doing. I'm really not picky, but he's my first choice.\n\nI take a seat at the bar. The twins concocted something that shoots green flames. There is no drinking age in death. \n\nTwo sets of arms wrap around my midsection. He whispers in my ear. I melt.\n\nThe other girls look at us. I call them \"girls\". No one gets upset about xeno-gender precision. They raise their glasses and smile. It's sincere. Everyone gets a turn.\n\nWe down a shot. It tingles. We down another. The dance floor beckons. The other dancers make room. 19-year-olds humans are pretty rare around these parts. Cremation isn't for everyone. I look good.\n\nWe lose ourselves in the rhythm. One song turns into five. We get closer. The music rocks, my man is hot, we have no troubles, and I look good.\n\nDeath is great.", "I always told my family to cremate me.\n\nEver since my grandmother died when I was a child, I had known I did not want to be buried. I didn’t want to become part of the dirt, covered by it, swallowed by the earth. I didn’t want to be dressed in something I didn’t like, placed in a tube of wood, and packed away. I didn’t want my body to rot like the tree around it, to decay and warp. I didn’t want bugs to feast on my flesh.\n\nWhile I knew I wouldn’t inhabit it anymore, I didn’t want my body to be treated like that.\n\nI much preferred fire. I wanted to become ash and soot. I wanted to be nothing and everything all at once, to be cleansed in a fire and come out something new.\n\nAnd my family, bless their hearts, did as I requested. I wasn’t buried in the family mausoleum, beside my grandmother and other family for all of eternity.\n\nI was burned, and then my ashes were launched into space.\n\nI’d been intrigued by the idea ever since I’d first read about it - intrigued that not only would I not be entombed within the planet I had lived on, but I would be free from it, apart from it. My ashes would make a journey my body never could, to the final frontier for mankind. I would eternally be free floating.\n\nAnd while I so desperately wanted this to be my fate while alive, my opinion has changed a bit since my death.\n\nAfter my car was crushed by the tired trucker, I did not fade. There was no bright light, no heavenly gates. Nor were there pits and fires and pain. Nor, even, was there nothing.\n\nI was still here. I was still in my body. It just didn’t belong to me anymore. I couldn’t control it, make my eyes shut or my body move. And while that frustrated me, I didn’t feel the pain I knew I should’ve felt based on the metal crushing my chest. I was just... there. Here. I don’t know even what to call it anymore.\n\nI existed. But to everyone else, I was dead. I was unable to move, unable to do anything. I just felt and heard.\n\nAnd so I heard the sirens arrive and felt my body be removed from my car. I felt them check for a pulse and heard the panicked voice of the trucker as he saw I was no more. And then I was zipped into a bag and carried away.\n\nAnd then, of course, I was set on fire. But I felt no pain, nothing at all. In fact, I felt freedom as I was released from the shell that had held me. I was, I guess, like a spirit. I held the form my body had, but now it wasn’t tied to my prison of flesh and bone. I could move and see, and even speak, though no one could hear me.\n\nBut I was still tied to my ashes. I couldn’t leave the space they occupied, some part of me forever had to be connected. When my mother carried my ashes out of the funeral home, I walked beside her, my hand held tightly in hers through the vase that held me.\n\nAnd had I known this would be my existence, I wouldn’t have sought space. I would’ve been content to be at home in the living room, forever a piece of the furniture but able to watch over my family and protect them.\n\nBut instead I was launched into space.\n\nAnd that’s where I still am now. I am still floating amongst the stars, endlessly away from my home and those I loved. But as I float I care less, mourn less. Because they did not die, I did. And now I will live here instead of earth, watching the galaxy grow around me.", "Idiots. We were all idiots.\n\nFor generations, the worst punishment was to be burned. Not only did it end your life, but it denied you of death. Everyone feared losing their immortality, so everyone stayed in line.\n\nMorons.\n\nWe've proven that souls are inviolable. They cannot be harmed, destroyed, or otherwise dispersed. The body is a conduit through which they can be changed, but once the body stops changing they do as well. I don't know what we were thinking. It's like we forgot that fact, as we happily sent our worst criminals to their \"dooms.\"\n\nThat's not how it works. My body is nowhere, so I am everywhere. I am unbound and utterly free, and I still have the gift of posession. I can see everything, be anyone. I've been kings and paupers, knights and knaves. I've done everything, moral or not, more than once, and in every combination.\n\nThe only thing that gives me pause is that the worst of us have gotten this as well. We rewarded them for their profane acts. There has never been justice." ]	3
	[WP] a retirement home for monsters, dungeon bosses, and various other evil beings	[ "Chip wasn't a fool. Pine Meadows Retirement Community may try to hide it, but everyone knew who the clients were. What they'd done in life. And he knew you had to clear one of the toughest background checks out there to get in the door, much less to get a job. Thankfully, Chip had put a lot of work into his cover identity.\n\n\"James Croswell,\" the half-woman, half-spider said to him. \"Welcome to Pine Meadows. If you'll follow me, let's get you a tour.\"\n\n\"Thanks, happy to be here, and please, call me Jim,\" Chip said. \n\n\"I'm Addy, I'm in HR, so hopefully, you'll never need to talk to me again.\" They both chuckled. \"This monstrous machine here is where you'll scan in each day as you start your shift. Just to the left here is the break room, and through here is the main lobby.\"\n\nChip paused for a half second, not long enough for Addy to catch. Just enough time to brace himself in case... But no. Not there.\n\nThey pushed on, Addy saying her hellos to the residents (good morning, Mr. Cooper, enjoying your breakfast, Miss Jones) as they passed through. As they came around one corner, Chip's heart rate skyrocketed, and he worked quickly to bring it back down before someone noticed. In front of him, Addy greeted a Mr. Lean, a hunched, olive-skinned man with bulging eyes and wispy hair. After they'd passed, just before they turned back, and saw Mr. Lean staring right at him.\n\nFinally, Addy finished the tour by introducing him to Maurice, head of the janitorial staff.\n\n\"Please, Addy,\" he replied. \"We prefer 'Particle Realignment Division.' Welcome, James.\"\n\n\"Please, call me Jim. Glad to be here.\"\n\nThe rest of the day was learning the job, simple enough. In spite of Maurice's joking title, it was not rocket science. It was uneventful. The following day, he got to set out, unsupervised, after his lunch. The previous night, he'd consulted the map, and planned out a winding path towards Mr. Lean's room. It'd put him there just after all the residents went to dinner.\n\n\"Don't think I missed that yesterday.\" The small, gravelly voice made Chip jump. \"Funny thing, you're still calmer than when you saw me yesterday.\"\n\n\"Afternoon, Mr Lean,\" Chip replied. \n\n\"Careful not to say 'good,' eh? Fine by me. So what's the deal? I kill your parents? Your girl? Your wittle puppykins? I'm harmless, now, so if you're after me, it's revenge. I'd rather you get it over with.\"\n\n\"That eager to die?\" \n\n\"Dinner is beef stroganoff tonight. So, yeah.\"\n\n\"Well, that's not why I'm here,\" Chip said with a friendly smile.\n\n\"Really?\" Mr. Lean visibly relaxed. \"Well, then I suppose I should ask your name.\" \n\n\"Jim.\"\n\n\"Like Hades it is.\"\n\n\"Chip.\"\n\n\"That's better, Jimmy. So what are you here for?\" \n\n\nChip gave that sly smile as he held back his maniacal laugh. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The world's first autonomous, unmanned sailboat has just completed it's historic nearly 2000 mile journey across the Atlantic. As the world's preeminent detective, you've been called in to examine the bodies found on board.	[ "Once upon a time, was a cruel little crime:\n\nThe detective saw, through his puny paw!\n\nbodies on the ship, was the icebergs tip!\n\nFallen from up high, From the tallest sky!\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNASA soon reported: The station is distorted!\n\nNo contact has been made, it is all to late.\n\nSomehow knew the ship, what places not to skip!\n\nIt picked them up, from the oceans top.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWithin thou was one, who should instead have gone.\n\nFor she was the culprit, who had taken to the pit,\n\nthe station now on earth, for she was just a nerd.\n\nWhom wished to prove, that she could have a groove!\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe detective with his nose, soon came to a close:\n\nAt once he barked: See this lady narked? \n\nNot a single mate, let the station great\n\nreach a touchdown now, full she's of sorrow.\n\n&#x200B;", "A case like this could sound simple. Get some extras to comb through all of the footage on the live stream feeds. It might take a few weeks, we should find how they got on board. We would immediately know the when and where. We need that information of course.\n\nBut don’t expect it to be that easy. Because these bodies tell a story on their own. Just finding out how, when, and where they boarded would only give a small indication as to what happened.\n\nThe immediate ruling was a triple homicide. You find the bodies of three children on a boat and you would naturally assume it had to be. Three children under the age of thirteen could not have done this on their own.\n\nAnd of course there is more vital information I haven’t told you. We had boat crews tailing it the whole way. They were recording during part of the day, and all but the watchman slept at night. There was one crew change and a total of 12 people between the two crews.\n\nNow you are thinking we must have a suspect. Well, we must have 12 suspects. Or maybe you’re thinking the three children must have come from the crew. But the 12 that made up our crew contained no children, and they all survived. Not one of them professed to know a thing about how it happened.\n\nThey said they were watching all day every day and nothing ever changed. There were some pretty big storms that hit them hard. The sailboat had no issues pressing on. They even seemed to increase their pace. Apparently the sailboat AI made for a good captain.\n\nNow, the crew change. It could prove a pivotal moment. The seaplane landed about three miles in front of the autoboat. The new crew stood by, the old crew sailed ahead. The exchange happened quickly, and then the old crew was flying off, homeward bound.\n\nWell that adds 2 more suspects, the pilot and copilot of the plane.\n\nAnd we have no video of that exchange. The autoboat got footage once the distance was down to about 500 meters, but things would have been back to normal by then.\n\nThis is where the investigation started, well, my investigation anyway. We knew exactly when it happened and had recording of the autoboat during the whole process. You would think if it happened then, it would have been caught on camera.\n\nUnfortunately, when we did look into that footage, I saw nothing of note. It was terribly frustrating since I suspected the pilots were in on it. And I suspected there might have been another stowaway...perhaps three or more other stowaways on that plane.\n\nWere the children planted on the boat to create a big mystery? Were they alive at some point on the boat? You’d think if anyone in the crews murdered them, they would not have wanted the eyes of the world watching them, suspecting them, digging into their lives like a rat investigating the rotting foot of a POW.\n\nAnd I can shed some light on that. We had an autopsy done as soon as we had the body in the coroner’s lab. Initially they were pronounced to have drowned at sea. Their lungs were full of sea water when they were found. And they were found below the deck of the boat, in a reasonably dry area. Water leaked down, the floor would be moist. Maybe they even got splashed during the storms. But water never pooled up, it always drained and got pumped out.\n\nIn autopsy it was found that two of the victims did in fact drown. Sea water was not the culprit, however. And the third victim was not drowned. The third victim died of a blunt force trauma to the head, and then was drowned afterward.\n\nAs you can imagine, this threw the investigation for a loop. What I am saying of course is that our victims did not drown at sea. One did not drown at all, at least not while alive. And I am also implying that they were likely not killed during the trip. Obviously if any one of the crew members had been involved, the victims could not have been drowned in water on board the boats.\n\nNow I’ll reveal the theory I had at the time. As I said, one of the three victims was not killed by drowning. Blunt force trauma to the head. It is highly suspicious that this victim was then drowned afterwards. It gave me a clear vision of how it might have went down.\n\nTwo children are being drowned. There were signs of a struggle, the fingernails were wrangled and deformed in a way much different from their toenails. A third child discovers the scene and runs in to try to stop things. This child is then bonked in the head and dealt with afterwards. The first two die, the third is then drowned. The killer does not know what to do with the bodies. Does not want to throw them into the ocean, perhaps thinking they might be found too soon, perhaps not wanting the bodies to be completely unidentifiable.\n\nClearly the killer wanted the bodies to be found for some reason. And it never fit well with my story.\n\nThe evening of the autopsy I had been drinking. I was strung up and anxious, worrying about the families. We had not been able to find them yet. It appeared that the victims were not from the free world. We were sure we would have found them. Three children, all related. We had no idea why parents wouldn’t come forward.\n\nI ended up going back into work early in the morning to check on how the autopsy had been going. When I was outside the lab the smell was horrific. Apparently they hadn’t been able to do anything about it and just kept working with masks on. I felt horrible for them. It wasn’t until a week and a half later that something clicked." ]	2
	[WP] the sky is falling, the oceans are boiling,and the world is shattered. It’s all your cats fault	[ " \n\nImagine the scene…\n\nNovember fifth, 2018. It really started out as an average day. Spilled my cup of coffee all over the kitchen counter, Car wouldn’t start that morning, Morning traffic in and out of the city was as thick as ever for a monday morning commute. I’m really dreary eyed and looked like hell because the water was shut off temporarily this morning for my house, and I’ll be damned if my contacts ever go in on one try.\n\nThe only thing I have that made this day to day routine all worth it was my cat, Sheldon. Why sheldon you ask? Who the hell cares, it’s my cat, I’ll name him as I like, mind your business. Regardless of what you think, you godless judgmental heathen. Sheldon has been my cat for the last four years, I got him after I got my first house out of college and into my dreary job that I’m probably over-qualified for, but what do you do? \n\nYou see, Sheldon was a rescue, and a strange one at that. He was already three when I got him, he was adorably short and stumpy, and had a strange gait that made his belly swing comically back and forth. Doesn’t help that he’s an orange tabby, so when he walks he looks like a pumpkin hobbling it’s way to some important location that I’ll never know the secrets of. Along with his goofy appearance, He has a set of eyebrows, that are a darker shade of orange than his fur, and they actually sometimes seem to show his emotion? Do cats show emotions? Who knows, not the point, onward with this story. \n\nWait… I forgot to introduce myself properly. My name is John Doe… weird name I know, my parents have a thing for irony, again not the point, but I feel better now that you know my name, like my tale can progress now. Anyway, for as normally as this day started, it’s really when I get home after work tonight that the important part happens. You see, it started with a strange beam Erupting from down the street, causing immediate tremors which were splitting the roads, worse than that these tremors seemed to be more powerful than any earthquake, like they shook the earth to the core…\n\nI rushed my way into the house looking for my poor and probably frightened goofball, sheldon. Alas, he was nowhere to be found in the house though, and I had begun to worry. The idea that something like that had just happened first of all, and that the tremors still haven’t stopped. They don’t feel powerful enough knock you over, but they seem to have a rhythm about them, like a hammer strike against the earth.\n\nUnbeknownst to myself, and about 90 percent of the population, Scientists where freaking out because these tremors that were shaking our little doomed planet to the core had knocked the earth out of its gravitational rotation of the sun, and we are now as a planet careening toward the sun. yay? Take that Baby-boomers! The collective will of Millenials everywhere to die is finally going to kill us all!\n\nJokes aside though, this story is not over. Of course our changed directory had begun causing oceans and small bodies of water to boil because, you know… we’re getting closer to the massive burning ball in space that provides us with life. Of course also unbeknownst to me, our careening through space also meant that we were picking up some not so friendly asteroids. Yeah, remember chicken little? “THE SKY IS FALLING, THE SKY IS FALLING”. Not quite the same idea, but the sky is indeed falling, right into us. Damn you space you majestic beast of irony. \n\nBut now for the true irony of this seemingly tall tale. The Cause. My cat Sheldon? He came waddling back shortly after I had deemed him probably dead, or at the very least scraping dirt over his poo in some back alley wondering why the hell the rocks are dancing around him. Well as it would turn out, he turned tail when he saw me. So myself being the caring owner that I am followed him with due diligence in order to catch him and keep him safe as I could I guess, maybe it was just selfish need to not die alone? Regardless. I followed him a few blocks to where I saw the beam, damn little stubby pumpkin bastard can really move I tell you. Where I discovered the source of our plights now revealed by a hole in the road, was a giant Hammer/drill thing? \n\nSome evil scientist had created it to confirm the proverbial doomsday that all those end of times pushers were always talking about. Only, it had been activated far too early for the next doomsday date. I guess even evil scientists have a sense of humor in a sick and twisted way, but I digress. Mr evil scientist was nowhere to be seen, and we’re going to die anyway. I found a maintenance ladder that somehow was still intact, and made my way down. Now this used to be located right under a water drain for the road, so a man-hole that had been blown open by the initial beam provided perfect entry and the ladder. \n\nUpon getting down to this contraption, I began investigating because I’m a curious shit and I like understanding things. Anyway, I noticed that this evil scientist was also a total Cliche. He has a big red button right in the open for anyone to unwittingly press and kill us all. Now the big question, how did said button activate? Did someone press it? Moreso why did my cat lead me here, I was asking that of myself as I suddenly felt a pebble bounce off my head. Is the hole collapsing? No. The answer was no. I looked up to see my dumb fucking cat pushing rocks over the edge where the drain pipe used to be right overhead the button.\n\nThen it clicked. We’re all dying because my stupid ass stubby little pumpkin of a cat followed his natural instinct of knock over everything… and threw a stone on the button… Which was only confirmed by a stone small enough to fit through a drain, but large enough to turn on the button was a mere foot from the podium the button was sat on… surrounded by otherwise large pieces of asphalt… Cat’s man..." ]	1
	[WP] A super hero and super villain have been rivals for years, one saving the city and the other causing much devastation, but never managing to defeat each other. One day, a new villain arrives and captures the hero... Their nemesis devises a rescue plan.	[ "“.....and then they’ll all be sorry!” Thunder clapped as I finished my monologue and signature evil cackle. Just like I rehearsed. Soon everyone in the state of California will be turned into ducks! I hate ducks! Captain Rogue should be arriving anytime now, but I got him all figured out. He always talks so loud and always goes on this tangent about trying to convert me to the Good Side and whatnot. Blah blah blah....if I wanted to be good I would’ve been a lawyer like my father. Actually scratch that, I would’ve been worse than I am now. \n\n“Peeb! What time is that twat Rogue coming? He’s usually here by now. That punctual weirdo...”\n\n“Sir, did you not hear the news? The Doomster has kidnapped Captain Rogue! It’s absolutely wonderful! Chaos has erupted and you didn’t even have to lift a finger!”\n\nSteam boiled out of my ears \n\n“WHAT?????!!!!!!! Turn on the TV! What kind of a name is ‘The Doomster’? What is he? 12?”\n\n“Well sir, actually....” Peebs was getting nervous. Stupid brat can’t do anything without hyperventilating. \n\n“Give me that!” I swiped the remote from his trembling fingers and turned on the television. There was a live broadcast coming from some basement. Captain Rogue is sitting unconscious, tied to a chair that was glowing purple. I immediately knew what that chair was made of. Obsidian, of course, Captain Rogue’s weakness. I’m practically the city’s sole buyer of obsidian. Whoever this new villain is certainly did his homework. \n\nSuddenly a little girl, no older than 7, emerged from the left side of the camera. She was wearing a pink hoodie, jeans, and a pair of My Little Pony light up Sketchers. \n\n“Hi guys! My name is Kailee Winston! This is my big brother, Logan Winston. He plays dress up a lot but he’s been a big meanie to me. He didn’t come to my dance recital so now he’s gonna have to pay. I’m recording this as a warning because not keeping your pinkie promises is MEAN!”\n\nI couldn’t believe my eyes. It took me 12 years to figure out Captain Rogues identity...and THIS is how I find out? He’s just some high schooler?\n\nCaptain Rogue was coming to. \n\n“Where...where am I? Kailee? What’s going on?”\n\n“Hey big brother! Just wanted to remind you that I’m not a force to be reckoned with!”\n\n“What are you talking about? Get me out of here! Where did you even get that from?”\n\n“I dunno. It sounded cool from some cartoon. Anyways I’m hungry. Bye guys!” Kailee waved to the camera as Captain Rogue yelled and thrashed about. The TV went black. My fist started to shake. \n\n“Sir? Does that mean I can take the day off?”\n\n“SHUT UP PEEBS! THIS IS NOT HOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO WIN. NOT BY THE HANDS OF SOME KID! FIRE UP MY CAR AND LOAD MY WEAPONS!\n\n....it’s playtime.”", "Alright, citizens. I know I usually use this broadcast and security hijack system of mine to strike terror in your hearts, or let you know that my lunch was really good, (seriously, Maria's Deli is a culinary paradise) but today, I'm asking for your help. We haven't always been on the best of terms, so understand why so many of you tried to turn of your televisions, radios, phones, and blenders, but I need you to hear me out, and because I'm not giving you a choice, you will. My nemesis, Admiral Art Deco (seriously, can we all agree that name is just the worst) has been taken by another villain. Also, I'm a little surprised to find that, yes, we apparently can all agree his name sucks. Though his captor, the Agoraphobe, is definitely giving him a run for his money. What? Oh, yes, the point. So I discovered this after a chat with his girlfriend, who I may or may not have kidnapped to lure the Admiral into a trap. Jury's still out on that one. No, not literally. They'll have to arrest me before they can put me on trial. Right, so, I have learned that the Agoraphobe, while quite powerful, and actual not bad looking, I mean, seriously, who goes in to villainy with a jaw that square? It's just not fair. Right, uh, so. The Agoraphobe lives up to his name, and hates crowds. Due to a henchman strike, I'm short on crowds, so I—Oh my gosh, he has abs! Abs! Why is he not heroing it up? Seriously, this guy is really making me mad. Just, you know what, I'm sending his address out to you guys, just everybody swarm him. Serves him right for putting his weakness in his name." ]	2
	[WP] God and Satan have annual meetings to decide what good and what evil can happen in the world that coming year. Imbalance makes their investors unhappy, but lack of drama hurs ratings. Write about their meeting and their argument over upcoming plans for this year's global fortune and tragedy.	[ "The old man ran a weary hand through his long, grey beard. \"Thank you all for that recess,\" he spoke authoritatively. \"I think that we all needed the break after wrapping up the Natural Disasters. Next up on the docket is...\" his voice groaned as he read the word \"warfare.\"\n\n\"North Korea will use the nuclear option,\" blurted the young, handsome man opposite the boardroom table.\n\n\"Dammit Lucifer!\" shouted the man seated at an angle from the fallen angel. He was standing now. One hand was splayed on a pile of paper on the desk, the other pointed accusingly. \"That eight years in a row you've opened with that!\"\n\nThe old man gestured for him to sit. \"Now, now Michael, let's hear what Luke has to say. I have a feeling something is different this time.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" the Devil said. \"As I was going to say before I was so very rudely interrupted, was that North Korea will use the nuclear option... on the People's Republic of China.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Michael asked.\n\nThe Devil turned to his right. \"Judas, if you would?\"\n\nJudas approached the front of the room as the projector started up, displaying a map of the southeast Asian continent. He cleared his throat before continuing. \"As you are aware, during last year's negotiations, we all agreed that relations between the Democratic People's Republic of Korea and the United States of America would improve, such that the threat of nuclear attack would be minimized.\"\n\nFrom the Devil's left a man muttered, \"probably because the US is someone's favorite...\"\n\nThe brown-bearded man seated next to God silently raised his hands to appear innocent and confused by the accusation.\n\nWithout turning from the front to face him, the Devil bumped fists with his colleague, \"Really nailed him with that, Pontius.\"\n\n\"Please,\" groaned God, \"can we proceed with at least thinly-veiled civility?\"\n\n\"That was funny and you now it,\" the Devil retorted.\n\nJesus rolled his eyes. Lifting the glass in front of him, he swirled it in his hand until the water turned deep, dark, and red. He then proceeded to upend the glass.\n\n\"Are you done Luke?\" Michael asked.\n\n\"Shh...\" the Devil said with a finger held to his lips, in a loud whisper he added: \"Judas is trying to talk.\"\n\nJudas continued from the front of the room. \"While the exact reason for the improved relations was not decided, the general consensus among the humans is that the DPRK is increasingly concerned with the expansionist ambitions of the PRC.\" The slide changed to show a map of the South China Sea and the Nine Dash Line. \"After extensive review and a number of small scale simulations-\"\n\n\"Simulations?\" Jesus asked, turning to face the Devil.\n\nThe Devil's eyes darted back and forth without locking on to anything in particular. Judas' face was marked with a forced, lopsided smile. His teeth were clenched.\n\n\"We can discuss that later,\" God said bitingly.\n\n\"Ohhh goody,\" the Devil said.\n\nJudas went on. \"We determined that the most likely provocation would come from the PRC attempting to destablize the Kim regime, under the pretense that the authority of the Supreme Leader had been compromised by the US Government. This would offer the PRC the opportunity to fan pro-Chinese dissent and bring soldiers into the country.\"\n\n\"Isn't this just a rehashed version of what you guys suggested with The Crimea and Putin?\" Michael asked.\n\n\"If it ain't broke,\" Pontius retorted.\n\n\"Whatever,\" answered the angel.\n\nThe slide changed again. A closeup of the Korean Peninsula was displayed, along with the looming mass of China. A curved, red arrow was shown beginning from the outskirts of Pyongyang and ending at a location with the PRC marked \"Shenyang\". As Judas explained \"Shenyang is the closest PRC provincial capital to Pyongyang. It has an urban population of 8,095,000.\"\n\n\"Eight million?\" Jesus asked. \"And how many of those lambs do you intend to slaughter?\"\n\nThe slide changed again, showing the epicenter of a nuclear explosion superimposed over a map of the city. To the side was the text \"Immediate Casualties: 1,750,000. Secondary Casualties: 2,250,000. Displaced: 10,000,000.\"\n\nThe Devil smiled. The men across from him were aghast.\n\nFinally, God cleared his throat, \"Luke, that's too dear. We cannot agree to these terms.\"\n\n\"And here it comes...\" Jesus said.\n\n\"I'll agree to push back the Spanish Influenza outbreak to 2028. And, and, no major tsunamis or typhoons in Southeast Asia until 2023.\"\n\n\"Christ almighty,\" Michael said. \"I'm so sick of you using that Flu as a negotiation tool. Why don't we just go through with it this year and get it over with?\"\n\n\"We can absolutely do that,\" Pontius responded.\n\n\"No,\" said Jesus coolly.\n\n\"It's still too much,\" God responded. \"Unless you can agree to ending the conflict in Syria and do something with the homicides in Brazil, I won't agree to this.\"\n\n\"Wait just a moment,\" the Devil said. Taking a folded paper from Pontius, the Devil slid the parchment across the table with a single finger.\n\nGod took the envelope and opened it. His eyes widened. He looked back and forth between it and the Devil's smirk.\n\nMichael peered over. \"Heavens no...\"\n\nJesus did the same and immediately put an arm on his father's shoulder. \"Do it,\" he advised.\n\nGod refolded the paper and placed it down on the table. He stood up from his chair and reach an open hand across the table to the Devil. The latter nearly jumped from his seat, but when he lunged for the hand of the Almighty, God pulled it away.\n\nThe Devil looked confused.\n\nGod spoke, \"Give Tom Hanks 15 more years, and I'll agree.\"\n\n\"Deal!\" shouted the Devil." ]	1
Yeah I know there’s a short story with almost the same premise, but I think the title itself is full of possible tales to tell	[WP]I have no mouth, but I must scream	[ "Over the years, I've had many guests come and stay with me. I've met people from all walks of life, from all backgrounds, of all races and ages. I've met fresh-faced college graduates eager to change the world, grandparents with skin wrinkled by age, even children full of life and the possibilities of youth. They have all come to be with me, stayed for a while, and then left me. It always follows the same pattern.\n\nThey arrive and lay down with me. I support them and cradle them in their peaceful slumber. They always feel so relaxed, so at peace. This is when I feel the most relaxed as well. When they are at peace, I am at peace. But that never lasts.\n\nEventually, they all wake up, and when they do, the calm serenity slowly washes out of them to be replaced with a muddled confusion. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be able to take them up and comfort them. To tell them that everything will be alright. I know it's a lie, but sometimes lies can be good, can't they?\n\nThe confusion doesn't last long. In fact, it always snaps out of them in a moment of sudden realization, replaced with white-hot panic. I wish I could say that I hated this part the most, but that, too, would be a lie. I would happily lie to them, but I cannot lie to myself. I sit, I support them, and I dread what comes next.\n\nMy fearful anticipation is shattered by the first of their cries as the scalpel parts the flesh. Their blood, hot from their body, runs onto me and down my sturdy legs. This is the worst part, for while they are still able, they trash and they yell as their lifeblood is spilt upon my back. I continue to support them as they are slowly taken apart. It is the one thing I can do for them: to be there, to hold them up and provide a stable surface for them when no one else will. After all, it's my purpose, it is why I was made. But I cannot help thinking about them, feeling some small part of what they feel. Their screams reverberate through my frame, and I echo them in a way only I can hear. I can't help it.\n\nI have no mouth, but I must scream.", "when I was younger, I used to say everything that popped into my head. every emotion that I had would pour out of me like a waterfall. ideas seeped out like goo. i was I intelligent, well-respected amongst my peers, destined for greatness. Until my big, fat mouth got me in trouble.\n\nMy mouth was sewn shut by the government. \nIt happens now a days, at least they didn’t cut my tongue out, and they can always unsee my mouth, but technically for the time being... I don’t have a mouth... I write what I think and people chose whether or whether not to read my thoughts and act accordingly or completely ignore the mute in the middle of the room waving their hands. It’s up to an executive government official to condemn me to this quiet hell forever or release me back into the speaking ways of the living.\n\nDespite not being able to speak and usually not having anyone listen, I still parade around government buildings going to as many forums as possible, just to try and get my points across. It was very difficult having an opinion that opposed the norm, but as a minority it was sort of fitting that I wasn’t loud enough to fill the room, but silently fighting my way towards my own justice.\n\nI entered into the forum, to find myself face to face with another group of the people who voted to get my mouth sewn up. I wanted to scream, but that’s the thing about not having a mouth. You can’t. They all smirked and stared, their big toothy grins gave me a pit in my stomach. Their laughter filled me with sadness, but I had cried too many times about my predicament. \n\nThe forum leader entered the room, he was dressed in a snazzy suit, clean cut. Classy, his hair swooped back gently, his eyes were covered a little bit by his glasses. He looked nervous. This crowd would eat him up in a second. \n\n“Good evening, we are here to discuss teaching-“\n\nHe began only to get interrupted immediately by a religious group.\n\n“No, that is not the way out Lord has intended it, teaching the youth about safe measures is against the commands of the Father.”\n\nAnother group chimed in.\n\n“As the representatives of Radical Youth Party, we demand that the limit be surpassed by ten thousand percent there should be live demonstrations-“\n\nThe arguing in the room got heated over something so simple. I jotted my opinions on the subject down and sat patiently. Jealously rising in my chest, my desire to speak up was so great. Then I noticed the one person in the room who wished they different have to speak. He was sweating behind his glasses trying to handle the conversation. He was kind of cute.\n\nThe arguments ended and the Hall was emptying until it was just me and him. I wanted so badly to smile but I just sat their my head in my notes wishing that he’d notice me, but since I was a nuisance to the country... so much so that my mouth was sewn shut... I figured he’d probably avoid me.\n\nHe was wiping sweat off his brow, when he got out his seat. He walked forward towards me, and sat down next to me.\n\n“Does no one listen these days?” He said.\n\nI listen... I wanted to say.\n\n“I have thoughts and opinions too, but when you sign up for executive positions they don’t tell you that you can’t veto everything.”\n\nI nodded. And hid my notes behind me... he noticed. \n\nHe grabbed them and read them quickly , his eyes glancing at every word. \n\n“These are good notes,” He said with a smile,” I could use someone like you on my team, you do t have to say yes... just nod.”\n\nI wanted to scream yes, but my head bobbed up and down.\n\nHe adjusted his glasses and offered me his hand.\n\n“How would you feel about getting your voice back huh?”\n\nI grabbed his hand gleefully and we headed towards his office.\n" ]	2
	[WP] The entire universe was created as entertainment for higher beings. It is a death match to evolve and be the last sentient species standing in the universe. Due to a clerical error, Earth is the only planet that doesn’t know.	[ "\"How's the off cast planet doing?\" A celestial known as 'Armetious' asked.\n\n\"If you're referring to the 'Earth', they're anything but unified,\" a celestial known as 'Prosidious' started. \"Interestingly, their infighting has compelled them to strive for power at an accelerated rate--a microcosm of the universe, if you will.\"\n\n\"Are they still on pace to destroy their planet before they leave it?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, they're doomed,\" Prosidious laughed. \"But they may exterminate themselves out of misdirected fear, first.\"\n\n\"What a fascinating case study,\" Armetious said. \"I would like to salvage that species and introduce them to the competition.\"\n\n-----\n\nDarryl Hickory sat on his four wheeler drinking a Coors Light, and thought about hitting the jump he and Bobby Joe made that morning.\n\n\"I'mma git high up.\" He slurred to himself. He started his four wheeler, and crushed the can of Coors Light over his head, forgetting that it was still half full of beer, which subsequently exploded over his head and face.\n\n\"Waaaait,\" Bobby Joe shouted as he flew out of his trailer like a bat out of hell. \"Lemme git this on youtubes.\"\n\nDarryl revved the engine and shouted \"Wooooo\" before accelerating wildly in the general direction of the massive ramp made of dirt.\n\n\"Oh my gawwwwd\" Bobby Joe chuckled as he recorded his cousin-brother hit the ramp awkwardly, launching like a corkscrew directly into a tree.\n\nDarryl layed on his back, dazed, with a stupid, self-satisfied grin on his face. \"D'you git it, Bobby Joe?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's all right here,\" Bobby Joe said excitedly as he ran toward Darryl, forgetting to look up from his phone, tripping, and bashing his face into the ground. \"Damn it, I loths my osthser toosths.\"\n\nJust then, both men were overcome with an unyielding sense of purpose. An instinct stronger than anything they'd ever experienced.\n\n\"I think I need to git my head checked, Bobby Joe.\" Darryl said as he stared toward the sky.\n\n\"Me too, Darryl.\" Bobby Joe said as he looked up.\n\n\"D'you feel it too, Bobby Joe?\" Darryl asked.\n\n\"I'm scared, Darryl,\" Bobby Joe whimpered. \"I don't know nosthsin' 'bout killin' aliens.\"\n\n-----\n\n\"This ought to be enjoyable.\" Armetious said. " ]	1
	[WP] You come upon the only survivor of a battlefield and rest for a moment while they tell you their story.	[ "The soldier clad with modern armor and weapons alongside a sword and shield appeared out of nowhere right in front of me Breathing heavily as he caught his breath looked around before he locked his hazel eyes at ne. Immediately, releived he said something you never expected, harshly and with urgency he asks \"What year is it!?\" Surprised at the strange question you tell him it's \"September of 2018\" to which he smiles and says then there is still time to save the world. The soldier goes on to explain that in November the US midterm elections, the democrats take control of the house and Senate. Almost immediately they illegally impeach the president Trump and Vice President Pence. Shortly after the Republican line of succession is \"mysterious suicide\" until a Democrat is in office. This angered alot of people and so the second American civil war started, much the same way it began the first time. Arkansas, Texas, Georgia, Oklahoma, Alabama, missisipi and west Virginia succeed from the union in 2020 after 2 years of negotiating and trying to stop the federal government from taking what little power was left to the people. \n\nThe former states now called themselves the \"New Confederate Republic of America\", and made it's capital Atlanta,Georgia. For two years the Civil war was only between the states as the rest of the world mainly stayed out of it. \n\nBut in 2022 The federal government of the United States found out that Russia was sending aid to the Rebellion and started sinking and shooting down Russian ships and planes. Angry at the federal government Russia, China and their allies declared war on the United States and allied with The rebellion. While America's allies \"Great britian, France and Germany\" allied with The federal government to shut down the Rebellion and the other enemies.\"\n The soldier explained to me under the shade of a tree. He had changed clothes to a casual wear as not to draw attention to himself. Reaching into his backpack he pulled our a bottle of water and took a drink before returning to his tale. \n\n\"That was how the American civil war turned into world war 3 and the first apocalypse. 2024 the federal government was losing the war fast. It's allies had been defeated in an unexpected winter attack by Russia and china. \nIn another week the war would have been over. The New Confederate Republic of America was 5 miles from the capital when in a last ditch effort. The damn coward union launched its nuclear warheads at Atlanta, moscow, Beijing, and other major cities of it's enemies. To which Russia and China launched their own nuclear war heads at D.C., New York City; Boston and Philadelphia.\" The man said as he wiped a tear away. \n\n \"It should have ended there, but India launched its nukes at Pakistan, Iraq launched theirs at Isreal. And that was the first apocalypse. 5.8 billion people died due to the blasts and radiation. \n\nThose who died in the blasts were the lucky ones. You see the veil between the world's shattered with all the energy that was released. From there to everyone surprise, monsters, demons, ghosts, dragons, draugr and to many other horrors to list came out and started wrecking havoc on the already weakened humans. How were we supposed to fight back against legends and myths? Most of us thought they were just fairy tales we told children. This was the second apocalypse you see our bullets and bombs didn't work it wasn't until another billion people were killed or worse before we realized that swords, axes, spears, and arrows killed them so we basically became midievil warriors again. But it was to late, humanity was becoming decimated and everything was looking towards our extinction. Until the gods stepped in and helped us. Pushing the monsters back as far as we could. It was the Norse god Odin that sent me back in time. In order to save humanity we have to change the past.\"\n\n\nShocked at what happens in a few short years i had randomly received an urge to ask him his name.\nAnd when he told me I was paralyzed with pure terror and fear. The man I was talking to...was myself.", "\"I'm looking for a girl.\"\n\n\"You're damn late for that.\"\n\nThe man was holding his guts in, with a grim expression on his face. It was an unusual expression around here; even the grimmest, most ashen and furious faces had something in them that reveled in the fight, reveled in the death, and reveled in the return.\n\nI sat down beside him, out of arm's reach. Again, the men here weren't all above flinging themselves at a friendly face, if it seemed amusing. He didn't look like he'd find anything amusing, though.\n\n\"There's plenty of girls.\" I nodded out across the hill that swept down into woodlands. Somewhere inside, there was some people yelling, metal clashing on metal. The fight was moving, then. I gave the dying man a sideways glance. He could have been from any period of time - a Norse warrior, a Roman centurion, someone who'd died in the Middle East over oil. His skin was a middling shade, his hair was shaved, and his eyes were dark. In sum, he could have been literally anyone. That alone said a lot.\n\n\"How'd you get here?\" I asked. I'd been here about two years, now. The running battles hadn't gotten completely under my skin, and sometimes I tired of the constancy of them. I questioned if there hadn't been a divine clerical error; dying in battle, yes. Enjoying it? No.\n\n\"Walked.\"\n\nI gave him another appraising look. He dodged the question, but he wasn't bitter, angry, or suspicious.\n\nHe poked at his intestine. \"You didn't see a large man with a beard get away, did you?\"\n\nI shrugged. \"Maybe. A lot of those around. He owe you one?\" I thought another second. \"You send each other here?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Thought he looked familiar. Might know something. Won't talk until I take him.\"\n\n\"How long have you been trying?\"\n\nA second passed as he counted. \"Six years.\"\n\nI whistled. \"You come close?\"\n\n\"Closer every day.\"\n\nThe intestines disagreed with that assessment. \"He's gotten you?\"\n\n\"Not every day. Sometimes others beat me to him.\" His eyes came up. \"You haven't seen a woman, have you?\"\n\n\"What kind?\"\n\nHe described her, then. Slightly shorter than he was. Short brown hair. Eyes as blue as a mountain lake. And she was sweet, quiet, ready to smile - though the smile had always seemed sad, somewhere behind it. She spoke with animals as they passed, she had been a seamstress in life, and she called herself Lissie.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I was. He'd kept his voice from cracking by retreating to another place as he spoke, reciting as if describing an image standing before him, warmth in spite of desperate reaching for dispassion.\n\nHe shrugged. \"This seems to be not her kind of place.\"\n\nMy eyebrows raised. \"You aren't from here? I mean, you didn't land here?\" I adjusted myself, then, turning to face him. \"You really did walk here?\"\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"You can get away?\" I crawled forward a few steps. \"Listen. I'm a warrior. I have been forever. But this isn't where I'm meant to be. I have friends, family, people who aren't here. And I don't like it here, sometimes. I mean, sometimes I do. But the evenings and the mornings, one after another. . . They're wearing on me.\" I moved closer. \"You know how to get out?\"\n\n\"I know.\" His face was a deathly pale, bone-white. He didn't have long for today. \"You are not the first. I have spoken with a thousand men who believe the Gods made a mistake. They did not deserve Hell. They were ready to leave Purgatory. Elysium was not paradise without their family.\" He paused. \"Do you know how many walked with me?\"\n\n\"One?\" I guessed.\n\n\"None.\" He fell back a little ways, towards the embracing grass. \"The Gods, the Fates, the Higher Powers: they do not make mistakes.\"\n\n\"What, you're special?\" I was over him, now, well within reach. I didn't care.\n\nHe smiled, his eyes closed. \"Who taught me to walk? Who taught me such a thing was possible?\" He raised one hand, covered in his own blood up to the wrist. \"I did. Who walked through a thousand afterlives? Who searches for her? I do. Who will be whatever I must be?\" Eyes open again, focusing on me. \"I will.\" Now he could only look at the sky, watching the clouds drift across. The speech took something out of him. The last of his life for the day, poured out in a burst that, in spite of its utter control, had something huge inside. I'd once put three rounds from my 1911 into a Spartan (bury your warriors with their weapons), and the man had still pulled me apart with his bare hands. That night, he drank three men twice his size under the table. He'd had a fire inside him - still did, given what I saw when I passed him these days. This man had an entire ocean in his soul, pushing out and washing away cliffs and rocks and outlasting even the greatest blazes. \n\nIt scared me. \n\nHe said one more sentence. \"I used to be a potter.\" Quiet.\n\n\"I think there's a few more potters here.\"\n\n\"Where?\" His voice was distant. I wasn't sure if he was confused from blood loss, or if he had genuinely never asked.\n\n\"This is Valhalla.\"\n\n\"Hm.\" And he muttered one last sentence before he died. I don't know what it was.\n\nHe never spoke to me again. Six months later, he finally got the big man. Maybe he didn't. At any rate, I never saw him again.\n\nI hope he finds his girl.", "“How long do you have?” I asked, slipping into the seat across from him and setting my notebook on the table, while slowly retrieving a pen from my pocket. I tried my best to feign calm, but I knew I was sweating and my heart was beating out of my chest.\n\nThe dark room concealed the fact that outside it was the middle of a hot, sunny day. A few rays of light entered from cracks between the door and the frame behind me. Hunched over in the last booth, facing the door, his lined face was partially illuminated with these rays and the neons behind the bar. He did not flinch, appearing not even the least bit surprised to see me. His left fingers edged a half-consumed bottle of cerveza, condensation dripping down the sides. I couldn’t see his right hand, but I was certain it held a pistol leveled at me beneath the table.\n\nHe did not move his head; his eyes briefly peered at the door, before returning my gaze.\n\n“Enough time for a round of tequila, if you’re buying.” His voice was gruff, with only a hint of a Spanish accent.\n\nI nodded, leaving my notebook while I turned and walked to the bar. Three middle-aged men sat at the end of the bar near the door, their backs to the booths on the opposite wall. Four girls, decades younger than the men they had joined, sat or stood among them. I guessed that the men were probably third-shifters from the factory down the boulevard. The girls gyrated to the Reggaeton which poured loudly from the jukebox, while the men lapped down beer and tequila. I didn’t have to guess how the girls were employed.\n\nThe bartender probably knew who he was. He clearly knew what I was too, opting for English.\n\n“What can I do for you?” He asked. I was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve Patagonia hiking shirt. That I had dyed my hair jet-black was apparently no disguise; did I really stick out that badly?\n\n“Un corto de tequila, por favor.” I asked in grammatically-correct though badly-accented Español.\n\nThe bartender grinned and shook his head. “Por el señor, no. You are better to buy the bottle.”\n\n“This won’t take long.” I said. “We have to leave soon.”\n\nThe bartender shrugged and poured four shots of clear liquor. He also retrieved two bottles of beer from a cooler and set these next to the shot glasses on a small, round tray.\n\n“Cuánto cuesta la cuenta?” I asked, retrieving a small wad of cash from my pocket. One of the girls eyed me from down the bar.\n\nThe bartender shook his hands in protest. “No es necesario. It is my gift to el señor, y la gringa Hermosa.”\n\nI left some cash at the bar as a tip anyway and carefully carried the tray back to the booth. He had lit a cigarette, and stared laser beams at me as I approached. The booth was immediately adjacent a narrow hallway that led to the latrine. The smell of tobacco and stale beer mixed with that of urine and vomit, and I felt my stomach turn. I set down the tray and he swiftly downed one of the shots before I had the chance to seat myself.\n\n“How long do you have?” I repeated my earlier question.\n\n“Drink with me.” He had already picked up a second shot and gestured with it at the two remaining. “Drink with me.” He commanded, more briskly this time, a little more accent showing through. “What publication are you with? Drink with me or I say nothing.” He said.\n\n“I am with Reuters.” I was hesitant to drink; I needed to keep every edge I could. If—or inevitably when—the police kicked the flimsy door open I would already be caught with my pants around my ankles. My only hopes were that even the police considered this neighborhood too dangerous to operate in and this cantina too wretched and out of the way to be worth searching. Then again, if I could find him, so could they.\n\n“Drink.” He said again.\n\nI lifted a shot to his. Seize the day, I guess. If they police came I would have to count on adrenaline and wit to save my skin, and I prayed they didn’t shoot before checking my journalist’s credentials.\n\nWe downed the warm tequila in unison. I am no teetotaler, but I would certainly have preferred it chilled with a lime slice as a chaser. But this was a civil-warzone in Central America, after all and I could only ask for so much.\n\nHe stared at me, and I back at him.\n\n“Reuters,” he pondered. “They send a white girl from New York to cover our little war down here? Does anyone read your stories; did you not wish to visit Europe, or write safely from home?”\n\n“Pittsburgh,” I corrected him. “Any many read my stories, and many want to know what happens here. That is why I am here: what happened this morning?” I redirected. “What went wrong?”\n\nThe door opened behind us, momentarily illuminating his entire face. He flinched, then relaxed as the door shut and a fourth man joined those at the end of the bar. He was older than I would have guessed, dark hair tinged with gray, his eyes dark and sad and red-rimmed. In the brief light I suddenly noticed the fresh gash above his right ear, already beginning to scab over, probably a near-miss from a security-force bullet that dawn.\n\n“And you will protect my identity?” He asked.\n\n“Of course!”\n\nHe took the last shot of tequila and chased it with the remainder of his first bottle of beer. He took one of the beers from the tray and pushed the second over to me. He leaned across the table. “They had an infiltrator, a spy—what do you say? A mole.”\n\n“In your unit?”\n\nHe shook his head violently, the most animated of movements I had seen from him so far. “No, in the barrio.” He stuck his chin out proudly. “None of my unit lives today; I drink in their memory.” He took a long pull from his beer, draining nearly half of it.\n\nHe sat in silence for a moment, staring at me; staring through me. I took a smaller swig of my own beer.\n\nHe cleared this throat. “With guerillas, we require the element of surprise. We attack when and where the enemy fails to anticipate. We strike where they are weak and melt back into the village when they face us in strength.\n\n“The support of the people, and their protection,” he nodded in the direction of the bartender, “is essential for the success of the guerilla.\n\n“This time, one in the village warned la policía that we would attack.” His eyes were wet.\n\nWe sat quiet for a few moments. The music pulsed in my ears. He finished his beer. I passed him the rest of mine.\n\n“I survived, but I am no coward. I must live; flee to the mountains. There I will regroup with others. My comrades are dead, but their legacy will live.”\n\n“Can you walk me through the operation?” I asked.\n\n“It was a large operation with several other units. We attacked a police barracks as a diversion while another unit attempted to break several of our own out of the prison, outside of town. The attack began as normal—at 0300—and we took the station only to find that it had been deserted beforehand. The lights were on, but no one was there, and suddenly the army surrounded us and attacked us and we had nowhere to run.”\n\nHe finished his beer in one long pull and stood. He tucked a large pistol into his waistband. I stood also, noticing that he was stocky and short—I had a good two or three inches on him. He turned to the narrow hallway and the latrine, and probably another exit I was not aware of.\n\n“Why do you do it?” I asked. “The odds are stacked against you; why do you persist?”\n\nHe stopped, and then slowly turned to face me.\n\n“I do it because some must know: la libertad no es gratis. They have their tanks and helicopters; we have the human spirit and a longing for freedom. This is what you must write, American girl from Pittsburgh. Let your readers know that no matter the cost: we will never give up. And that someday, we will prevail.”", "I nearly fell from my horse upon reaching the war camp. It had been a long day's ride with no food or water. My horse was close to collapsing, its breath heavy and strained. Countless tents stretched across the flat landscape. Men traveled at their own pace, spreading out in every direction. The camp was lit by thousands of torches and campfires, the sun now hiding behind the grassy hillside.\n\nA young stable-boy met me before I galloped too far into camp. He had golden-blonde hair and small deformity of the face. The lad walked with a hunch, as well. \n\n\"Take your horse me-lord?\" the stable-boy stumbled his way to my side.\n\nI vaulted from my mount, landing heavily. My armor nearly crumpled. It had been left weak after such a grueling battle, only the day before. \n\n\"Good boy,\" I answered the young lad.\n\n\"Out scouting, sir?\" he asked.\n\nI looked down at my ensemble. My armor was matted with dirt and blood. The King's sigil could barely be made out. \n\n\"Does it look like it?\" I answered with another question.\n\n\"I guess not me-lord,\" he shrugged. \"We's just figured that everyone had returned froms the battle'in, is all,\" he said. \n\n\"What do you mean?\" I questioned the boy.\n\nHe didn't answer. He just pointed. I followed where his finger aimed. A large campfire had drawn quite the crowd in the center of the war-camp. I handed the reigns of my steed to the boy, tossed him a coin from my pouch and began trudging through the camp. It was far too dark for the usual activities like sparring or marching, so the men just reclined, drank, and sang in large groups. I caught some glares from the men as they noticed my imperfect uniform. Apparently, they thought the soldiers fighting at Havatt had already returned. They were wrong.\n\nI finally came upon the massive pyre. A crowd of at least one-hundred men surrounded it. From the center of the grouping, I could hear a strong voice.\n\n\"Quiet down, you bastards! The lone survivor of Havatt is going to speak now. The battle was fierce and he barely clawed his way to victory. Give him your respect!\"\n\nWhat the hell, I thought. \n\nI was at that battle. I saw what happened. \n\nI began squeezing my way through the crowd. Men cursed at me, but I didn't care. I had to see what was happening. Who was this man at the crowd's center?\n\nI made it to the center of the ring of men just as they began to sit. Suddenly, I felt how tired I was. My legs screamed at me, begging me to sit along with the men. It had been a full day since Havatt and I couldn't fight my fatigue any longer. I gave in and sat with the rest of the men. They all wore light clothe and looked extremely comfortable. I longed to remove my dirtied armor.\n\nOne man sat in the center of the crowd, a giant pyre at his back. He had a patch over one eye. He had a shaved face and scalp and wore the same light clothing as the other men. He was far too clean to have been at that battle. It had been a nasty ordeal. I could feel my fingernails digging into my palms, the rage becoming hard to handle. The man began to speak.\n\n\"Most of you know me. My name is General Tsering,\" he announced.\n\nGeneral Tsering? I knew that name. He had been given command of a large group of skilled fighters before the battle began. That same group had been demolished mere minutes into the fighting. Interesting thing was, their new commander wasn't seen fighting alongside his men. \n\n\"Havatt was the death ground of nearly 12,000 of the King's finest,\" Tsering continued. \"Luckily, I was able to fight my out, killing over forty men by myself,\" he grinned. \n\nLiar, I could feel my blood boiling. \n\nThe men in the crowd oo’d an awe’d, hanging on Tsering’s every word. I looked like at my armor. Stained there was the blood of my friends, my brothers. A small amount of my own was there as well. Tsering was disrespecting my fallen comrades. He hadn’t killed any men at Havatt. He hadn’t even been with his men while they were cut to shreds. They died without a hope. Without a commander. I couldn’t stomach the lie any longer.\n\n“Deserter!” I yelled, standing.\n\nThe crowd quieted. My eyes met Tsering’s one. He saw my uniform and…there it was. He was frightened.\n\n“General Tsering left his men for dead on that battlefield,” I screamed. “Havatt was a bloodbath with no clear side coming out on top. I fought in the infantry. I watched my friends, my brothers, die. All while you were put in charge of a battalion that you later abandoned. I watched those men die too. And where were you? Riding back here to tell everyone what a hero your cowardice make you?” I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. Everything was sore. All I could feel was my own anger.\n\nTsering chuckled. \n\n“You will believe the word of this man? What proof does he have?”\n\nI drew my sword. “The only proof I need is my honor. Which is more than I can say for you.”\n\nI held the weapon before me and leveled it at Tsering. The sword gleamed in the dark, lit by the bright flames of the pyre. \n\n“I may not have much energy left. I fought all day yesterday. I was the only survivor. You were the only coward. I’d be happy to use what’s left of me to dispatch of the slime I see before me.”\n\nTsering visibly recoiled. He had not expected this. He had made a mistake thinking nobody would survive the battle. \n\nI wiped a tear from my eye. The other men began to rally behind me. They had understood my emotion. Most knew Tsering for the snake he was and would relish being rid of him. \n\n“Deserter! Deserter! Deserter!” they chanted.\n\nMy legs suddenly felt strong again. My body was giving a few brief moments of respite. \n\nI charged and quickly removed Tsering of his head as the men cheered me on.", "\"Which would you say is better?\" he asks me. \"A rogue bullet hitting your skull, killing you instantly? Or one hitting you and leaving you completely immobile, letting you slowly and painfully bleed out? When I enlisted, I figured the first was the better option. Quick and pretty much painless. Wouldn't even feel any real regrets. Things just end mid-sentence, and that's that. But the more I thought about it, the more it pissed me off. After 34 years on this Earth, it's really kind of a sad end. Makes you feel like you're some sort of side character. Existing in someone else's movie. Tribute fodder.\"\n\nHe sniffs.\n\n\"I used to know this guy. Elliot. Funny guy. We were stationed together. He told me 'bout this pretty girl of his. Kelly, I think he said she w-- No. No, Regina. Wait. No. Shit. Hang on. This is important. I have to remember this. Marcy? No... No. No, actually, I think it really was Kelly. Yeah. Kelly, his girl. Wouldn't shut up about her, that's why it's bothering me I'm doubting my memory on her name. Showed me a picture. She's cute. High school sweetheart. They married right before he shipped. They kept in touch as often as they could've. You'd be surprised, but their main joke was Elliot getting himself shot. Sounds morbid, but they both laughed. Maybe it helped ease the tension. Maybe that was their sense of humor. Or, I mean -- shit. If I told you how many times that man had clogged our toilet, you'd have wanted him shot, too.\"\n\nHe leans himself against the wall. His fingernails are in a deep shade of blue. Almost black.\n\n\"Elliot. We never really spoke much. But he was alright. You never forget the smiles those kinds of people give you. And I'm not just talkin' about his crooked front tooth, nah -- I mean the general atmosphere he radiated. You felt like he was someone that just belonged in the world. A piece of the puzzle that fit in perfectly. He planned to open a flower shop after the war was done. I said I'd visit.\"\n\nHe pulls on his index finger. I consider telling him not to do it - thing's broken, after all - but I quickly realize he's struggling to keep himself awake and needs the pain.\n\n\"Of course. None of that happened. He died. I'd love to tell you the story of how it happened, but I don't know myself. One morning, we got our patrol assignments. I got mine, he got his. When I returned at nightfall, his bunk had been cleared out and I was told he wouldn't be coming back. Got ambushed and killed. And that was that. Never managed learn anything beyond that.\"\n\nHe cocks his neck to the side. \"Actually. I probably wouldn't like telling you a story like that, come to think of it.\"\n\nThe ground shakes ever so lightly. On the other side of the room, some dust falls to the ground.\n\n\"So? What'd he die for? If he's meant to be a hero, nobody really treated him like one. His family probably did. That girl of his -- GLORIA, yeah, that's it -- Gloria definitely did. But given that they're all likely dead, I might as well be the only one that even remembers he existed.\"\n\nHe sniffs again. He's not crying. He's not even teary-eyed. He's been dragging along a cold for the past two days. The paranoid part of me tells me it's worse than a cold, but I can't afford to go down that road yet.\n\nThe ground shakes again.\n\n\"But the worst part is -- the point I'm trying to make here -- is that Elliot got hit by a bullet coming out of nowhere. He didn't have time to react. He was the first one down. Just like that. One moment he was walkin', probably happy his work for the day was over, thinkin' about that Julia of his. Then, the next -- bam. Blackness. Gone. Couldn't even be mad about it. Is that fair? Hell no. That's when I realized the other option was better. Slowly bleeding out might be painful, but you at least get a chance to reflect. Well. Easy to say. Maybe you'd be in too much of a pain to really think about anything aside from not wanting to die, so--\"\n\nHe sighs.\n\n\"Forget it.\"\n\nHe sniffs.\n\nThe ground shakes yet again. This one felt more violent.\n\n\"...You think that's how he saw his life when he was a kid? Playing with his toys, his friends, bein' tucked into bed by his mom? Being reduced to a role of a side-character in a larger story? A story that, for all anyone really gives a shit won't ever even be told, given that we're going to lose this thing.\"\n\nI want to curse him for saying things like that. But it'd feel like petty denial.\n\nI'd like to tell you how this all came to be. How the world got like this. Who the people dropping the bombs up above are. How I fit into this. What life was like before. Hell, I'd love to tell you who our opponents in all this even are at this point. \n\nBut I don't know.\n\nI don't know anything anymore.\n\nAt this point, there is no \"us\" or \"them.\" Everything's broken. Nowhere is safe. Nowhere is good. We hide like rats in these little underground rooms. The only thing left up above is smoke. There are people down here who some probably would've called out as enemies at some point. But everyone is too tired. Most you can do is give those \"enemies\" of yours the side-eye as you stumble back into your own little room. They won't do anything if you don't. And Lord knows you won't. You need the energy. \n\nThe ones left fighting up there are the ones who are either too stubborn to put their guns down first out of some sense of pride, or have accepted that dying is as good of an ending as any. Either way, final outcome is the same.\n\nMutually-assured destruction.\n\nThe man sitting across me sniffs for the fourth time. He keeps on staring at me. I don't even know his name. He just showed up here one day. His hands are still just as broken as they were. Said he ran away from the battlefield and asked to stay. I don't mind the company, so I figured I might as well. \n\nAnd now, having spent the past few days with him, I've become convinced I'm talking to a ghost. No bullet might've ever so much as grazed this man, but he died up there. No doubt about it.\n\nWe're a bit alike, in those respects. \n\nIn terms of being dead, I mean.\n\nI do have to admit, I still can't decide.\n\nIs he hallucinating? Does he believe this decayed corpse in front of him is actually speaking to him? Or is he merely trying to give himself comfort?\n\nEither way, I guess he doesn't matter.\n\nHe'll be joining me soon enough.\n\nThis place will be his tomb.\n\nLike it has become for us all." ]	5
	[WP] A husband and wife's prank war escalates beyond all reason. Canada offers foreign aid.	[ "&#x200B;\n\nAfter a long day of school, I just wanted to relax and watch Family Guy. But, once I turned on the I noticed that Wolf Blitzer announces, “Canada now accepts Melania Trump’s request for asylum and the request assist her operatives win the prank war on Donald Trump.” I thought, “this is intriguing; maybe I won’t watch Family Guy.” Wolf Blitzer then states, “the former first lady is now on a flight to Ottawa. Oh, look her plane’s landing! Oh, look here’s Melania! This is the first time in US history that a first lady flees to Canada.” Suddenly, I knew that this is the first time in my history that I’d rather watch Wolf Blitzer than Family Guy. Wolf then rambled about how he was gonna interview Melania about Donald’s pranks. I thought, “Just get to the stinking pranks, Wolf!” After what felt like an eternity, Wolf finally asked Melania. And, boy, the pranks were epic! First, the Donald put a picture of Marla Maples the had “Donny loves Marla” written on it. As everyone could guess, the Great Prank War began. The pranks escalated so much that they resulted in a trade war with China (Melania made a video of the Donald in his underwear and singing, “America’s Gonna Win a Trade War! Lalalalalala!”), Theresa May calling Melania an American slut (the Don leaked naked pics), and finally Canada offering to aid the “rebellion” against the “American dictator”.\n\nSuddenly, I realized something weird: how the heck did this happen without most Americans knowing the real reason for the trade war, for May’s comment, and Canada thinking that our glorious leader is a dictator. I guess they don’t know realize that Trump made our country glorious again!", "It all started with my husband and I slipping whoopie cushions under each others seats at dinner. It escalated to strippers being sent our work place. Next I cut the breaks off his car and he replaces my shampoo with flesh eating acid. Lucky for us I have a good sense of smell and he drove into the beach.\n\nWe knew this couldn't work out between us if we continued our shenanigans. So we split up. I joined an outsourced Canadian union and my husband joined the trump cabinet after posting a dank tweet that got the attention of that 12 year old of a president. Now with the help of Canadian aid I have all the resources I need to finally pull the sickest prank.\n\nMy wife is planning something. I dont know what. After I joined the trump cabinet shes always on my mind. Shes out to get me. I need to plan something, quickly. \n\nThe husband walks into his office cautiously. Tapping the door knob with a piece of lead just in case she rigged it. He made his assistant walk in before him, you'd never know he thought to himself. Thats all janet, thank you, you can leave he says. He tilts the photos on his wall for cameras or dart guns planted. You could never be too sure he mumbled. As he looked out his window and sits at his desk, the sound of a whoopee cushion deflating goes off. The husband holds his head and cries as he comes the realization. She fucking got me.. a covert whoopee cushion labeled Canadian toys was sitting on his seat.", "This whole shitshow started, as shitshows often do, with a man making a slightly thoughtless decision that made his wife a bit mad.\n\nSee, they were at a party with friends, and the husband in question decided to tell a story about the time the wife farted in her sleep, waking herself up. A funny story, no doubt, but not one that the woman was particularly proud of having her friends know. Sub-supervillain backstory though this may be, it started a similar thought process in the nascent connivings of the woman; \"How may I best revenge myself upon my husband?\"\n\nWhy, a similar nocturnal emission, but this time of fluid rather than gas, would even things up nicely. That night, the woman plied her husband with drink after drink - some a bit stronger than he expected - only for him to pass out, and piss himself while asleep.\n\nAt the next get together with friends - it was a monthly thing, to stay in touch, for they had met in college, and did not wish to wholly go their separate ways - the woman recounted the tale of her husband getting drunk and soaking the bed. Her husband, although a buffoon of a few sorts, was not entirely a moron. Noting the similarly to the story that had earned glaring eyes from the love of his life last month to the one here, and the recognition that it was his lady that had plied him so with drinks, the cogs turned in his mind.\n\n\"So, this is how she wishes to play things. Fine. War, then, has been declared. Valhalla will reverberate with the tales of great and terrible deeds by my hand.\"\n\nYou see, as it is supposed that women often are, this newly-minted villainess was a persnickety one, with a penchant for the collection of baubles. To capitalize on this was a simple affair; the man went to the bank with a one dollar bill, and asked very simply for a silver dollar minted in the year of his wife's birth. Sensing that his intentions were far better than they actually were, the teller obliged, and gave him the coin that felt so nicely weighted in his hand. A short trip to a craft store, and he had a small amount of superglue to go along with it.\n\nThe woman returned home from work that day, doing the mental equivalent of licking her fingers after eating a bag of Doritos, seeking out all possible satiation from her immature vengeance. What fortune, then, to see a coin on the walk back to the house. Something to put in the bowl by the front door, no doubt. But it wasn't just a quarter, it seemed. It was a silver dollar! Minted the year she was born, no less! This was too good for the bowl. Her mind started picking out a frame for it before her fingers even picked it off the ground.\n\nPicking it off the ground, however, turned out to be a greater task than picking a coin off the ground typically should be. Her nails kept slipping, and she couldn't quite get get a hold of it. She kneeled down, dirtying the knees of her office slacks. It was stuck to the ground by something. Thirty minutes of nonsense with various implements from a Swiss Army Knife that she left in her purse later, and she had the thing free. But it wasn't dried sap or drought-hardened gum that had resulted in such adhesion; she knew cyanoacrylate residue when she saw it. How could she not? She had spent part of her youth building model planes from balsa, and prying them off her skin when the application of glue went awry. This was intentional. This was cruel. This had ruined a lovely coin, and made some scratches in their driveway.\n\nShe was hurt. All she wanted to do was to have a little fun with her husband, to playfully get back at him for what, in truth, she knew was an honest mistake. He had taken it too far. What could've been a lovely gesture from a lovely man was instead used to spite her. A woman had just been scorned, and as the saying goes, \"Hell hath no fury...\"\n\nShe had been a bit vindictive before. But now? She was mad. If sentimentality meant nothing to her husband, then so be it. She didn't show it that night, besides a slight redness in the eyes, as though on the verge of the verge of tears. This was missed by her husband, who had come away from the day only with the smug satisfaction that he had wasted some of his wife's time.\n\nWhen he left to run errands the next day, her revenge was simple and swift. An old jersey that he wore when the game was on, ground into the dirt of the front lawn. The moment he got home, and saw what had happened, she knew that she had taken it a step too far. This Maple Leaves jersey wasn't just some trifle. It had been given to him by a friend from college. Not 'a' friend as much as 'the' friend. They had classes together. They ate lunch together. They were wingmen for each other, often having a hard time picking up girls themselves over singing the praises of their shield brother. When her husband fell ill his Junior year, it was this greatest of all friends that took him to the emergency room at 3 AM, and fell asleep in the waiting room rather than leave him. It was this friend that had traded his Toronto jersey for a Yankees pinstripe jersey the day before heading home, the difference in sports only being an in-joke if anything. It was this friend who, years after getting back to Toronto, had been killed by a drunk driver. It was this friend who, in his death, inspired a clique of old college friends to stay in touch, that they might mourn his passing and rejoice in his memory together.\n\nHer husband shed no tears that day. That wasn't how he processed grief. He said no words, and retired to their guest room bed completely silent. This had to be made right.\n\nThe internet is a miracle of many different varieties. Nothing but a last name and a half-remembered street was required to find the next of kin; a wife whose face had previously faded from her memory. She traded a few simple messages with this woman, and received a package in the mail. The same store that sold her husband a tube of superglue now sold her a frame. Her husband came home one day to find a picture of the long lost brother he had chosen, wearing a pinstripe jersey, smiling as a man content, framed and sitting on the table.", "\"This is your Action 9 News reporter, Brian Bushwick, reporting live from the scene of the United States' greatest tragedy since the September 11th attacks. According to eyewitness reports, this string of misfortune and woe began right behind me, in 2113 Evergreen Street, as area man John Whitaker was seen surprising his wife, Faye Whitaker, with what neighbor Marten Reed called, 'the old bucket-on-the-door gag.' Since that fateful day, more than two thousand have perished in the ensuing prank war, with causes of death ranging from accidental gunshot wounds, to the nuclear meltdown of last week along the Canadian border, to today, where more than fifteen hundred people lost their lives in the massive explosion that wracked the Sprint Center in Kansas City during the Rick Astley/Gwen Stefani concert. Both of the Whitakers remain at large, and police have told us that they are to be considered armed, dangerous, and incredibly oblivious to just how much of an asshole they've been. If you see these vicious criminals, please do not hesitate to call your local police department, or to signal one of the many friendly mounties that Canada has graciously offered to help track down the suspects. This is Brian Bushwick, with Action 9 News, back to you, Steve and Jeanette.\"" ]	4
	[WP] In a world where people can gain skills based on what they go through, resistance-type skills are one of the most commonly found among everyone. No one really thought much about it until one day, it is discovered that things that are resisted, are lost forever. The Lord of Entropy chuckles...	[ "This was my best plan ever. It takes so long just to track down and eliminate every electron, proton and neutron, can you imagine how much longer destroying every iota of energy takes?\n\nNo, no you can’t. No one can. No creature in this universe or any other is capable of imagining the length of time it would take. That is why I came up with a shortcut.\n\nDid you ever wonder where your “resistance” came from? The gods? The earth? Humans always had it? I can tell you that the gods gave you it, along with all those other skills you are so found of. And I gave the gods the idea." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up one morning to find that no one else recognizes you. Every single person in the world seems to have forgotten every other person. Its a fresh start, and you decide to make friends with good people you knew, only to find out they have forgotten about you the next morning...	[ "As he did every day, Michael entered the door to the small restaurant. The tropical sun reigned high in the sky, its heat nearly unbearable so close to noon. He sat at his favorite booth with a view of the empty beach and waited for the round-faced server to greet him. Her name was Selena, but names hadn’t mattered in a long time. \n\n“I got your note,” the woman said as she arrived, a cup of fresh coffee in hand. “Pancakes will be a few more minutes. If you need anything else don’t hesitate to ask –” She paused as she examined his nametag. “Michael.” \n\n“I know,” Michael smiled, adjusting his glasses. He took an old book from his pocket and placed it on the cheap table. “Take your time.” \n\nThe woman laughed, relieved. “You’re a regular then…”\n\nMichael looked from the beach as the woman trailed off. A small part of him still held out hope that one day people would remember again, but, truthfully, he was fine with the way things were.\n\n &nbsp;\n\nThere was time that Michael longed for nothing more than a fresh start. Unfortunately, he couldn’t justify leaving his job, not with retirement so near. When he was younger, he had always planned to move away, but he never had. The job was easy. The job was safe. Life passed him by. Michael was cursed by his own internal logic, entrapped by his lack of ambition. \n\nThen, everything had changed. \n\nThe day had begun like any other. Alarm. Shower. Coffee. Car. The roads had been strangely well behaved, a rare sight but not completely impossible. Michael hadn’t thought much of it. \n\nHe had breezed past the security guard with his usual nod and slight wave. The man, Richard, had returned his nod with his trademarked wink and blessings on a great day. Perhaps if Michael had looked closer he would have seen the terror lurking behind the guard’s dark eyes. \n\nThe elevator ride had been mildly crowded, awkwardly silent. Michael had decided long ago to only talk to his temporary companions if they spoke first. He recognized one man who had been working in the same office building for years, however, Michael had never gotten his name. He ascended the last stretch of floors alone, adjusting his graying hair and tie in the mirror-wall. \n\nHe found the office to be strangely empty. Checking his watch, he frowned. He had arrived at his usual time, five minutes before the clock officially started. He had shrugged and quickly lost himself in thoughts of deserting to some tropical paradise or another as he watched his laptop power to life. It was only by chance that he had even noticed someone walking by. \n\n“Morning, Diana,” he waved. \n\nThe dark-haired woman had stopped, staring at him with wide eyes. She held her phone in one hand and a mug of steaming coffee in the other. “How do you know my name?”\n\nMichael laughed. “We’ve only been working together for what … seven years. You sit in the desk directly beside me.” \n\n“Are you sure?” She narrowed her eyes, glancing to her screen. “I don’t remember you.” \n\n“Very funny,” Michael had replied, sipping at his thermos. “You have two kids. Both out of college and living on their own. Bet that’s who you’re texting.”\n\nDiana had only stared at him blankly. “What did you say your name was again?”\n\nIt was only then that Michael realized that something may actually have been wrong. A short time later, he had completed his circuit of the office and come to a frightening conclusion – no one knew him or anyone else. It seemed that he was the only one who remembered everyone.\n\nLater, he realized it had been those who lived alone who had come to work that first day, that their familiar routine had brought them to the office without a second thought. Ironically, it was those very routines that kept the new world from falling apart.\n\nA few hours after leaving the office, Michael sat at a table with his two closest friends. Kirk had no family; Daniel had woken up next to a stranger. It had taken nearly twenty minutes of phone calls to convince them to show up at their favorite spot. \n\n“It seems we remember everything but each other,” Michael had explained over beers. “You both knew where to come without me mentioning an exact location.” \n\nKirk nodded, sweat shining on his bald head. “Some kind of selective amnesia. I can tell you where I went to high school, when I graduated, but I don’t remember a single name or face. Wonder how it happened … something in the air maybe?”\n\n“What if it’s not temporary? What if that’s just the lie they’re feeding us?” Daniel asked nervously. “I didn’t recognize my wife … my kids! I remember coming here hundreds of times, but I don’t remember anything about you guys. What if we have to relearn everything about each other?” \n\nKirk placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s only temporary. They’ll get it sorted out…”\n\nIt was worse than temporary. The next day Michael skipped work and rushed over to the same bar just as he and his friends had agreed to.\n\n“Are you the one I was supposed to meet here?” Kirk had asked as Michael sat at their table. “I remember that I needed to come here to meet someone. I just … don’t know who…” \n\nAs time passed, the world adjusted. The government had mandated the use of nametags days after the event, making it easier for people to return to their lives. A few years removed from the first day, mankind had adapted to the new normal.\n\nWell, somewhat normal. Michael watched from his desk as the world grew isolated. At first, people had tried a thousand different ways to remember each other; eventually, most had given up. Families stuck together like packs, seeking comfort in relative strangers. Those that had no one else minded their own affairs. Most stayed indoors in their free time, unsure of whether they could trust anyone they met. For many, the change was too much, and the end came quickly. \n\nIn time, people were little more than electronic ghosts, their lives detailed only through their transactions and within various databases. On the morning of his retirement, Michael had taken his belongings and bought a house by the beach, just as he had always planned. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhen the pancakes came, Michael smiled at the server and gave his thanks. Watching the waves crash against the sand, he sipped his coffee in silence. As always, he wondered why he had been spared. It was only as a woman took the seat across from him that Michael finally picked up his fork. \n\n“Good morning, Natalie,” he smiled. “Pancakes?” \n\nThe woman only shook her head, thanking the server as she brought another mug of coffee. “Really, Michael? Must you ask the same question every morning?”\n", "A world with no social consequences. Sounds pretty amazing, no? Being able to do anything to a person, and not having them remember it was you who did it? Sounds great... Except for the part where nobody remembers the good things either. I kicked a can down the side of a road in the bad part of town. I didn't care anymore. I almost invited people to jump me, hand idly resting on the glock in my hoodie pocket. They normally didn't care. With every kick of the can a small puff of dust met my midrif, making it up to my black athletic shorts before falling in my wake. I sighed at the apartment buildings that all started to look the same in this cold-hard neighborhood. I heard a car backfire behind me. Or maybe it was a gunshot, but I didn't care. Looking up at the bright red sky; made so by the smoke of the industrial part of town less than a mile upwind, a thought caught in my mind like a fly on a web. What if I got myself arrested? Would they let me go not knowing who I was the next morning? Would they still think of me the same? I guess if I wanted to get myself killed, this would be the way to do it. I walked into the nearest convenience store, walked up to the counter, and slowly pulled out the gun, pointing it at the guy at the counter, making sure my face never pointed at the myriad of cameras. \"Hey man, give me all you got in the register. I don't wanna hurt anyone okay?\" He started to comply, but before he got any money out I saw him press something under the counter. A panic switch. Perfect! I noticed him taking his time on pulling out the cash, so I made the usual speal of rushing him a bit. \"Come on, come on, we don't have all day\" His hands started to shake \"p...please I have a family I... I don't wanna die today just take it all and leave me be.\" The rest of the cash appeared on the counter. I made sure to stash it away in my pockets as quick as I could, loading them up and leaving the rest for him to clean up. I slowly walked outside while keeping my face towards him. I felt bad for doing this but the money would be returned when I was done, regardless. As I took my first step outside I heard someone yell \"FREEZE, DON'T MOVE AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM\" A smile grazed my thin lips. This is it, the moment I've been waiting for.\n\nThe rest of the evening seemed to pass by in a blur of sirins and questions. I answered as truthfully as I dared. They got me in the jail cell at their local precinct. and told me I would be spending the night there. \"I deserve it\" I said, pretending to be dejected. \"You're damn right you deserve it. Seriously? Stealing? I'm pulling up your file and you appear to have had a job up until a month ago where you seemed to disappear from the map.\"\n\nThis... was an interesting turn of events. I guess for all intents and purposes I had vanished. waking up every day with a different face has caused my records to be scrubbed as well!\n\nI woke up the next morning with a guard telling me to get up. I looked around my little cell groggily trying to get my berrings. Cold steel facilities all around me, and even colder steel bars to my front. A thin cotton mattress being the only thing to protect me from the ice cold steel that made up my bed. The guard was eyeing me with suspicion. \"Whot's yer name, bitch?\" \n\"Jessica Darwin\" \n\"I don't see any Jessicas in the file, and even the front desk lady don't recognize you. Why are you in here?\" \n\"Must have been a misunderstanding\" I mused \n\"Well, let's get ya out of there. Don't be sneakin into our facilities like that. You'll get in REAL trouble if you do that.\" He grinned as he got me out of the cell.\n\nI sized him up. He stood almost a foot taller than me. Not worth starting a fight when he could literally kill me. He escorted me to the street, giving me a bag of my stuff and telling me to get lost. I realized that day that I could do almost anything without consequence. That I could get away with almost even murder, and the next day my sins wold be absolved. On that day a new Supervillain was born. The Faceless One\n\nsorry this is so rough, I also went with the idea that after that first randomization, people figured out who each other were, except for the protagonist. I Know it's taking some liberties but I hope you don't mind!" ]	2
	[WP] A once heroic man was cursed by a dark wizard right before he was defeated that sent him away. Now, the curse has sent the man back in time, and any time he gets emotionally attached at all to anyone the curse self activated and sends him to a new era and time.	[ "It's night. The stars are out and visible, and the midsummer heat is just warm enough to make stargazing comfortable. A small town has its usual sleepy atmosphere at night, with all the lights dimmed down and families gathering around dinner tables.\n\nA haggard man sits alone under the shade of a bar's patio, shoulders slumped, with only a single glass of auburn in his weathered hands. His clothes are stained and torn, too damaged to discern what they might have once been. He sighs, scratching his unkempt beard. For him, even the physical pleasure of liquid gold had long since lost its charm.\n\n\"You havin' a tough day, mister?\" A fresh face boldly steps up to the man. Young, bright eyed. More akin to a puppy than a man. His crisp blue t-shirt rests loose on his lanky frame, and a small, dishwashing towel was stuffed into his back pocket. He sits too close to the man and taps his golden-filled glass to his.\n\n\"Mm.\" The man barely nods in acknowledgment of the boy's presence, tipping back his drink and downing half of it. After a soft, pained breath, he brings his cup back down.\n\n\"I thought I knew ev'ryone 'round here. 'Cuz we ain't really much a big town, ya see. So when I'd heard rumors of a new... ah...\"\n\n\"Town drunk?\" The man speaks, his dull eyes finally shifting to acknowledge the boy.\n\n\"Well, I didn' wanna be rude... but yeah.\" The boy sheepishly pats his own head in embarrassment, smiling widely.\n\n\"Leave me. I don't care for anything you feel like saying.\"\n\n\"Naw! I mean...\" The boy looks down at his drink and swirls it around, his bright eyes reflected in the drink. \"I jus' think I oughtta get ta know you, maybe invite ya ta dinner with my family. I hear ya helped out with Miss B's cattle ranch last week. She's been tellin' ma and pa all about how great ya are with the lil calfs!\"\n\n\"It's just a job. For money.\" The man downs the other half of his drink in one gulp. He no longer felt the burn of the alcohol in his throat.\n\n\"I... guess, but...\" The boy puts his glass down and reaches out to grab the man's arms. \"... Well, she's worried about ya. An'... I guess I'm worried about ya too.\"\n\n\"You don't know me.\" The man pulls his hands away. \"And I couldn't care less whether she or you or anyone else cares.\"\n\n\"Ain't it jus' normal ta care? Even for a stranger? When someone has that look in their eyes that they've given up... Well, it makes me wanna cheer 'em up good!\" The boy smiles again. His eyes glisten with passionate tears, almost threatening to overflow.\n\n\"You're delusional. Who thinks like that nowadays?\" The man scoffs, bitter bile rising in his throat.\n\n\"Everyone I know! Me an' ma an' pa an' Ms. B an' all of us here do!\" The boy grabs the man's shoulders. \"Even if you're a stranger, I know fer sure you're family, the same as if you were born and raised here!\"\n\nThe man snorts, a weak smile breaking through his child expression. \"Is that really how you think in this era?\"\n\n\"Yeah! For sure! It's what gram an' gran taught ma an' pa an' it's what I'm gonna teach my own lil tot! I ain't ever the type to let a day pass without any goodwill to a friend, even if he don't know he is one!\" Excited, the boy stands up, leaving his untouched drink behind. \"C'mon, if'n you're willin', I already told ma an' pa ta expect you fer dinner!\"\n\nThe man chuckles, slowly standing up. \"Yeah, I'll be... a bit before you. Ah, I wonder if I'll meet his grandparents...\"\n\n\"They're both passed on by now, but I know we got pictures of 'em hanging up on the-\" The boy turns away for a brief moment, turning back. His words died in his lips as he looks around. \"Mister?\"\n\nThe man had vanished. Only his empty glass remained.\n\n(Oh boy. First time response jitters. Pls don't bite)" ]	1
	[WP] You are a rain drop falling to your death.	[ "This is it. This lonesome free fall is what my life amounts to. I've come so far, and now it's time for me to fulfill my purpose in this life. The core of my being is a tiny spec of airborne clay, all the way from Sub-Saharan Africa. I don't remember much of anything from those times, but I know the odds of that clay particle-me, making its way into the middle atmosphere somewhere over the Eastern US were small enough. From there it was a miracle that I formed into a raindrop. I can still feel the icy cold sting of coming into existence as a dozen little ice crystals attached themselves to my core. Everything was so cold, confusing and grey. From there, it was nothing but ups and downs. As in, actually falling through the atmosphere over and over, only to get flung back up by the force of the updraft. I watched countless friends fall, and never fly back up again. I watched them rejoice, and I envied them. Nourishing the Earth as life-giving rain is our one and only reason for being. We may make friends and memories and experience beautiful things along the way, but we never forget about our fate. This is supposed to be the happiest moment of my life. But now that I'm falling, and showing no signs of being caught by the updraft, I feel no joy. I know in my heart that in another life, I'll be right back here, bouncing around inside a cloud. I feel no anticipation or excitement. I know certain death awaits. It feels nothing like how I was told it would feel; but I do feel a warmth saturating my being. I think that's satisfaction. ", "Life is a magical concept; One moment you're nothing, then suddenly you have form. At what point are we considered alive? When we first start to take shape? Or only once we've completed our growth? Perhaps it's a point between the beginning and the present, for if we are only alive once we've finished developing and changing, then can any of us truly be alive? We're forever in a state of metamorphosis, our forms and essence in constant motion and evolution.\n\nAs we fall towards our inevitable end, do we disappear or are we reformed into something new, ready to start the cycle again? If we have changed our form so drastically, can we still say we are ourselves? Or have we changed into something else, something different?\n\nYou are born, you live, then you die. What happens in between those phases is what defines us, and makes us unique. In the end, though, no matter who or what you are, you will plummet towards your doom, bound for the unknown." ]	2
	[WP] "My majesty. Here is your wine." The king took the chalice and took a sip. "Hmm. This is some high-quality poison."	[ "Robert carefully replaced the cork of the wine bottle with all his might. It had taken a great deal of time and care to master the art of removing it without ruining it, and he was finally confident in his ability to do it quickly, drop in his little addition, and replace the cork all while walking from the wine cellar to the royal dining room. He was absolutely certain that his concoction was undetectable, as he'd killed at least twenty peasants with it over the past few months. Putting on all appropriate airs, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open with his back. He adopted the brightest of smiles as he entered.\n\n\"My liege, good evening. The cooks have outdone themselves this night. I bring you a marvelous selection of smoked meats, cheeses, and breads straight from the oven,\" he placed the steaming platter down in front of his king, \"we also had the fattest of the chickens roasted over hickory chips just for you, sire.\"\n\n\"Hmph. What's the occasion, Robert, old boy...? As far as I know, it's not my birthday. My anniversary to Gweneviere was last month, and she was still pregnant this morning, so it can't be the birth... Did news come from the east? Has the war been won in the last few hours?\" The heavy-set, but powerful king licked his lips at the display in front of him and tore a leg off of the large chicken that steamed profusely.\n\nRobert watched with hidden disgust as the large man who ruled the land noisily slurped the meat off the chicken bone, \"Why sire, it's the day of founding. When you united the three largest baronies of the land under your banner and were proclaimed king!\" He bowed to hide a small snarl. His family was killed in the 'unification' of those baronies... Though from those dark days he had worked his way through the ranks to become the king's right hand man to claim his revenge, and as the monarch threw the stripped bone down on the shining silver tray. He rose to see the mouth of a jeweled goblet staring into his face.\n\n\"Wine...\" The king's eyes looked almost bored at the mention of his conquests and Robert had to force a smile with more effort than usual to mask his rage at the callousness of it.\n\n\"Of course, your majesty.\" The smile became genuine as Robert uncorked the bottle with the proper tool, rendering the cork now useless, and poured. \"If that is all for the evening, my liege, I will take my leave.\" He put the bottle back on the tray and turned to leave. He then felt a massive hand grab his wrist and pull him backwards without letting go.\n\n\"Nonsense, lad. Stay a while.\" The king smiled broadly as he downed the entire goblet in one throw. \"Tell me of your latest forays into the maids' quarters! I know you're...\" he raised an eyebrow, staring into the glass, then at the wine bottle and Robert felt the hand on his arm squeeze harder. He started to panic. The brute should have died already. \"Hmm... You know Robert, my lad, this is some high quality poison.\" The hand pulled the younger man down into a chair with such force that he was sure he bruised his tailbone. \"And now you're not leaving at all...\"\n\n\"But, sire, I... I... It wasn't me!\" he tried to explain away the event that was going horribly, horribly wrong, \"The cooks... I swear I heard-\" The goblet slammed against the table, bending the base upwards slightly and producing a sound that silenced the servant instantly. Sweat beaded off of his forehead.\n\n\"No. No, it wasn't the cooks. By the gods, Robert, after all I've done for you. So I killed your family in my conquest. I killed thousands of people. But you I took pity on,\" the quickly moistening servant was shocked by the fact that the king actually knew his reasons, \"Do you think you were able to get your position on your own merits? Yes, you're a marvelous butler, but you didn't start that way. No, boy, I remembered your face. I remember the faces of all of the people I've killed. Of the fifteen thousand three hundred and seventy two, I remember every single one. They stick with me, reminding me why I rule. Why I am so hard. Why I make sure there is ORDER!\" Robert jumped in his chair. \"I remembered yours because of your rebel parents begging me not to kill you with them. You were too young to remember it all, I suppose. And then you go and do this.\"\n\n\"Your majesty, I didn't... I mean I-\"\n\n\"Oh it's not the poison itself, boy. That's just a minor inconvenience that'll take a couple of hours and a gallon or so of water to be rid of completely. Until then it's just uncomfortable. No. You now know my secret. And that I can't let go.\" Robert didn't quite understand and his face contorted in confusion, \"Oh don't be daft, boy. It's obvious that I'm immortal. But if that got out, it would unite the world against me, making my conquest much more difficult. So, my diligent little friend. You,\" the king kept his hold on the terrified servant like a dragon's mouth on a horse's flank and poured himself another cup of the wine before setting the bottle in front of Robert, \"are going to have a drink with me.\" Robert's eyes went as wide as they could go. \"Don't be shy, lad. Bottoms up.\" The king held his goblet up in a toast, expectantly. The poor servant raised his right hand to the bottle, brought it to his lips, and drank deeply. Shaking all the while. Then...the world went dark.\n\n---\n\nHope you enjoyed my take!\n\nMore at r/SamsStoriesSub", "\"My majesty. Here is your wine.\" \n\nThe king took the chalice and took a sip. \"Hmm. This is some high-quality poison.\" \n\nHe took another sip, swishing the liquid in his mouth with a thoughtful expression on his face. The court was deathly silent. No one dared breathe. The old king's swallow echoed loudly in everyone's ears, and it's followed by his languid sigh. \n\n\"From which apothecary is this poison from?\" he asked the wine-bringer. \n\nThe boy raised his head. His answer was very clear: \"It was from the witch doctor of the Azure Forest, my majesty.\" \n\nA wry smile played on the king's lips and he takes another drink of poison-laced wine. The witch doctor of Azure Forest was a rather infamous woman who made quite a name for herself for ridding her part of the forest of the ferocious beasts that plagued the kingdom. \"Summon her.\"\n\n\"At once, my majesty.\" The wine-bringer bowed and made a hasty exit. \n\nThe king swirled the chalice in his hand, looking in the dark liquid. He crooked a finger at one of his courtiers, who makes his way up to the throne instantly. Leaning in, he asks, \"Yes, my liege?\" \n\n\"I rather like the taste of this. It really makes one's heart race, and I can hardly feel my feet. It's strong and would kill a mortal man easily. A very good poison.\" The king takes another slow drink, tilting the chalice up until it was near parallel to the domed ceiling. Everyone could see him drain the golden cup of its contents, several shifted uncomfortably, but no one dared to speak. He tosses it off to the side, the empty chalice clanging against the floor, rolling around for all of his court to see. \n\n\"Now then. Let it be known to our enemies\" --he stands up, pointing at the fallen chalice-- \"even poison cannot kill your king.\" ", "######*Heartbroken in a World of Dirt\n\nDeep in the castle, below the quarters of the lowest servants and the prison cells of political opponents, King Alidan and a man in black robes knelt in a dark chamber lit only by the candles circling the body on the stone bed in front of them. The King bowed his head. A tear quietly splashed on stone. He sniffed once and said, with a voice roughened by a mucus-filled throat, \"Get the wine.\"\n\nEdris, the robed man, stood. \"Yes, your majesty.\" His footsteps retreated behind the King.\n\n\"Don't go anywhere,\" King Alidan said under his breath as he stroked the blonde hair of the corpse. Although her eyes were shut, he still felt her light brown eyes gazing into his own, unblinking. Her skin was cold but soft to the touch, like a caressing a marble statue. She had a peaceful, almost emotionless expression. She could have been fast asleep, and for a moment, King Alidan didn't want to disturb her slumber. But he knew only one thing could wake her. And time was running thin.\n\n\"Your majesty.\" Edris's voice startled the King. \"Here is your wine.\"\n\nKing Alidan, still kneeling, took the chalice from Edris. It smelled only of wine—not the tiniest hint of poison detectable by scent. He swirled the wine in one hand as he gripped the still hand of Queen Imina with the other. He sipped the wine.\n\nHe tasted only red wine. The poison, however, made its presence immediately. Before he swallowed the wine his tongue had already gone numb. His mouth, dry as the cold stone beneath him, stung with a feeling of ten thousand pinpricks. He coughed twice before wheezing out something half-comprehensible: \"This is high-quality poison.\"\n\nKing Alidan fell to the floor. Everything went black.\n\n---\n\nSoft ground. Freezing wind. King Alidan opened his eyes. He was no longer lying on stone, but dirt. There was light, though not much more than there had been in the chamber. He pushed himself to his feet and wrapped his robe tighter, pulling it up to cover his already rosy cheeks. His hair blew with the wind. But where was the wind coming from?\n\nHe stood on a dirt plain that extended endlessly in all directions, fading in with the dark purple sky at the horizon. No trees. No clouds. No people or structures. Nothing but him, dirt, sky, and a chilly wind.\n\nKing Alidan turned around. A wooden door. It stood, like him, alone in the barren landscape. He approached the door. Its handle refused to budge in either direction.\n\nCome, my love.* A warm voice. A calm voice. Peaceful. Her voice.\n\nHe jiggled the handle harder. \"Where are you, dear? Guide me. Show me the way!\" An invisible hand wrapped around his and pushed the door open. As soon as he felt the hand, it was gone. He mouthed, \"Thank you, my sweet,\" as he stepped inside.\n\nA cramped spiral staircase, made of dirt instead of brick or stone or wood, appeared on the other side of the door. He ran up the steps. With each step, his feet sank a little. It was tiresome. But she was waiting. He would bring her back.\n\nThe stairs kept appearing as King Alidan ran up the spiral. There were no walls, no railing. He could jump from the staircase and fall on the dirt landscape if he wanted to. Still, the dark purple sky above.\n\nYou're almost there.\n\nHe ran faster.\n\nI want you by my side again.\n\nHis feet were sinking deeper into each dirt stair. The wind seemed to get colder despite the sweat now glistening his pores. He tore off his cape and tossed it away. The wind carried it away like a feather, where it would disappear into the endless, black horizon.\n\n\"I'm coming my love!\" Pace slowing and heart pumping faster, he stripped off his garments until he wore nothing but linen pants. The sky was brighter now.\n\nHurry.\n\nHe continued up the spiral of dirt steps. The sky lightened, the wind blew harder and colder, his feet sank further into the steps.\n\nThe ground was further than the sky now. His dead wife kept calling his name.\n\nFinally, when his lungs were stinging like a warm bath after diving in snow, the spiral staircase ended. There was a floor to stand on now. No wind. Everything was a dark shade of purple, except for a single figure standing in front of him.\n\nShe had blonde hair and light brown eyes. Her skin was pale and soft, but now warm to the touch. Queen Imina held King Alidan's numb cheeks. \"You made it,\" she said.\n\nHearing her speak, he had forgetten about all of his bodily pains and aches. His lungs weren't about to give. His heart was attempting to escape his chest with each beat. His feet weren't struggling to pull itself through soft dirt.\n\n\"Will you,\" he said. His eyes filled with tears. \"Will you return with me?\"\n\n\"We will be together.\"\n\nHe sighed, relieved. It was done.\n\n\"But I will not return with you. You will stay with me.\"\n\n---\n\nEdris spit out the dirt that flew into his mouth. It was a cold morning. Although he wore three layers, goosebumps rose on his skin from the piercing wind.\n\nTwo pits were being filled with dirt. Final words had been said by nobles and, of course, royalty. Prince Milo, King Alidan's eldest son, now wore the crown and robes. The ceremony was finished.\n\nAll the talk at the pub later that night was rumor. The dead King, according to witnesses, had gone mad and ran up one of the castle's staircases bare naked, mumbling—sometimes screaming—incoherently. He had collapsed and died in the throne room. Doctors said King Alidan died of heartbreak; priests said demons were to blame.\n\nEdris felt the heavy leather pouches in his pockets that bulged through his pants' and coat's pockets with the gold Prince, no, King Milo had promised him. He disagreed with the doctors' and priests' diagnoses.\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! [CC]/feedback always appreciated. I have more stories, poems, and songs on [my personal subreddit.](/r/scottbeckman)", " \n\n“Hmm. This is some high-quality poison,” the king chuckled and tossed the jeweled chalice to the floor. Deep red liquid poured out over the marble floor of the King’s throne room. The Captain of the guard that presented the drink to him shook his head.\n\n“Please do stop calling it that, your Highness,” the Captain lowered his head to show he meant no disrespect. “Our land’s vintners have already begun to leave the city for other kingdoms. Might I suggest the possibility that you simply do not like wine?” The king’s crown tilted forward as he lowered his gaze to glare at the Captain.\n\n“I am a King. Of course I like wine!” He dismissed the Captain with a hand gesture. “Bring me more tomorrow. I better like it.” The Captain bowed deeply and left the room. He walked into the kitchen where a small group of men and women waited for him.\n\n“Well?” One of the men, the one who produced the latest sample, asked. The Captain shook his head.\n\n” ‘Poison’ again,” he said.\n\n“That was my best wine!” He yelled in frustration.\n\n“I know! Those were my best grapes!” Another man joined in the frustration. A third man, the best dressed of the group, stepped forward.\n\n“I’ve had enough, let the dim King rule his empty castle. My traders and I will move to another kingdom and establish a new route to trade our wine and other goods. Within a year this palace will be dust and cobwebs.”\n\n“What about the people?” The Captain asked.\n\n“That’s who I’m doing this for,” he gestured at the small group around him. \n\n“We all have families, and we’re starving because the King refuses to acknowledge our wine.”\n\n“Please, one more chance. He demanded another tasting tomorrow. Is there nothing left to try?” The Captain begged the crowd. They stood around looking at each other for several silent minutes until one of the women spoke up.\n\n“What about the Brewer?” she said. Several of them erupted in laughter, but the elegant guild leader shook his head.\n\n“This is a serious matter.”\n\n“Who’s the brewer?” the Captain asked.\n\n“No one,” the guild master replied.\n\n“Who is the brewer?” the Captain repeated his question slowly while staring at the woman.\n\n“He lives up on the hill by the barley field. He’s been experimenting making wine from grains.”\n\n“His liquid abominations don’t deserve to be called wine,” the guild leader said. The Captain turned to face the well-dressed man.\n\n“I don’t doubt that you’re ready to move, but it will still be more difficult than staying put. The King doesn’t know what ‘wine’ is. If we give him a drink that he likes and call it wine, then your goods will sell.” He took a moment to think but nodded his head.\n\n“Take him to see the brewer.” The woman nodded and led the Captain out of the kitchen, out of the castle, and to a small house on a nearby hill. She pounded on the door.\n\n“Brewer!” A short, bearded, rotund man opened the door. He immediately recognized the Captain of the guard. His eyes went wide and he shoved the door closed.\n\n“I’VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!” He yelled through the closed door.\n\n“I need your help, brewer.” He opened the door a crack and peeked through.\n\n“With what?”\n\n“The King would like a sample of your best brew,” the woman explained. The Captain shrugged and nodded.\n\n“Really?” The door flew open. “I’ve got just the thing!” He disappeared into his house and Captain moved to step in. The woman put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.\n\n“You don’t want to go in there.” The Captain turned to complain, but his nose caught the foulest stench he’d ever smelled, and he agreed.\n\n“I think you’re right.” He stepped back again. The pair waited outside for quite sometime before the bearded man returned holding a dark bottle.\n\n“The door was open, you should have come in.”\n\n“I thank you for your hospitality, but we are in a rush.” The Captain took the bottle, bowed, and walked away with the woman next to him.\n\n“Let me know if he likes it!” the brewer yelled. “There’s more where that came from!” The Captain waved over his shoulder while they trekked down the hill.\n\nThe next day the Captain met the guild leader and several of his tradesmen in the kitchen.\n\n“It smells so foul,” one of them commented while the Captain poured it into a chalice.\n\n“Are you sure it isn’t just urine?” another commented on the yellow frothy liquid. The Captain shrugged.\n\n“It doesn’t matter so long as the king likes it.”\n\n“Good luck!” the woman said. The Captain took a deep breath and marched the chalice out to the king.\n\n“My majesty. Here is your wine.” The king took the chalice and took a sip. \n\n“My god!” he exclaimed. “THAT is poison. I’ll stick to the other stuff, it’s not so bad.”\n\n\\\\\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #255. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order. ", " \n\n\"My majesty. Here is your wine.\" The king took the chalice and took a sip. \"Hmm. This is some high-quality poison.\" \n\n\"Only the best for you, father,\" The crown prince smiled lightly. \"Do not worry father, it is quite slow-acting, you would not suffer.\"\n\n\"Yes, I recognise it. A sweet fragrance of apple and berries, the same poison I gave your mother years ago.\" The king looked at the prince, observing his features. \"You grow ever more similar to your mother, my son. Yet knowing that I am in possession of this very same poison, do you not realize I would have the antidote?\"\n\n\"I have considered it. Your health has greatly deteriorated in the past year, father, you would not have lived through this winter.\" The prince answered with a small nod of acknowledgment. \n\nThe king sighed. \"You've always known that there was no love lost between your mother and I. I realize you must be upset all this years, but you must know, you have always been the most brilliant of my children. This country will soon be yours.\"\n\n\"Of course, father,\"The crown prince agreed pleasantly, \"I will inherit the throne, but father has always loved my younger siblings more, such that the burden of a country faced by war falls upon me while they continue to live their carefree lives.\" \n\n\"You will be a most capable king.\" The king answered with conviction.\"This country will flourish under your rule.\"\n\nThe prince chuckled.\n\n\"Even on your deathbed you have nary a word of love for me.\" \n\nThe prince let out a long breath. \n\n\"That's alright. I have long since passed the age when I desired your love and attention.\" A beatific smile appeared on the prince's face. \"I have found my own love. Would you give us your blessing, father?\"\n\n\"Of course, my son. She must be a woman of great skill and virtue.\" The king said gently, a sense of bone deep weariness blurring his senses. \n\n\"Yes, father. She is a honorable and admirable person, capable of ruling our countries wisely.\"\n\nOur countries?\n\n\"She is the Queen of Zanra, our mortal enemy.\" The prince smiled at his father, who is startled yet slowly losing consciousness. \"Don't worry, father, the people will be in good hands.\"\n\n\"I wish you a peaceful rest, father.\"" ]	5
	[WP] You are an author. One day you hear a knock on the door. It’s one of your main characters.	[ "\"Why?\" The man asks, voice weak, defeated, his hands anxiously rubbing the cup of coffee, untouched, now cold. It's like staring in a mirror, his beat up Dickies jacket, torn jeans, t-shirt with a nondescript metal band's logo, and combat boots, buckled high. He taps the floor at a pace that shakes the floor, his face streaked in the remnants of tears, hair falling over his shoulders.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What do you mean, 'why'?\" I ask, leaning back on the counter, nursing the Irish Coffee I just prepped for myself. The clock reads 11:24am, he's been here for hours now, at first he was agitated, aggressive, punched me a few times. I've put him through Hell, he's lost, he thinks he's loved, he's held together just barely by being simply too stubborn to stop moving. I've put him through Hell, yet I can't quite find a reason to pull him back. I grab the ice pack from the freezer, and place it on my cheek, I deserve everything he gives me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You're my Creator. You're my God, you made me, make me, into anything you wish, you can choose to give me happiness, or kill me, yet you refuse to at every turn.\" He carefully pulls a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes from his pant pocket, fingers trembling, pulling one out and failing to light it multiple times. I take the stick, turn on the stove, light it and hand it back, doing everything I can to give a sympathetic look on my face. He stares at me, taking a giant drag, only to ask, voice cracking, \"Why can't you just make me happy? Why am I forced to hear the same song in my head, day after day, only to be teased, mocked by you with everyone around me being openly happy, being able to start their life?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI adjust my footing, uncomfortably, tying my hair into a ponytail, \"Stand up,\" I tell him, more like order him, as I lead him through my empty apartment, \"Look around you.\" He carefully treads the mess that is my apartment, clothes thrown about, a couch covered partially by a blanket, papers strewn across a small coffee table, a bottle of scotch tipped over, the papers are stained. He moves things spread across the floor with his boots, sweeping movements as he finds tipped over picture frames, stained t-shirts, and notes, pleas for what he himself wishes for. We walk to the balcony, and I lean over, staring at the morning sun rising over the city skyline. He stands next to me, cigarette hanging lazily between his lips, he gives me a glance, he's starting to understand.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You're right,\" I let loose with an exasperated sigh, \"Do you remember when you were happy? You went by a different name back then, you did such amazing, wonderful things. You understood happiness, you understood who you were, what your purpose was, you had hope.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe starts flipping a small coin between his fingers, as his form changes for a brief second, only to snap back into his 'real' self. He nods, quickly and repeatedly, choking on his own words, meeting my eyes, we're identical. \"I remember space. I remember the knights, the dragons, the stars. I remember our old adventures. You gave me an entire life.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI look away, partly in shame, partly in guilt, as I down the rest of my drink. \"Yeah, you had it all, your life was never boring, I could pick you up, pluck you into any world, any story I wanted you to be in, and you'd triumph! It was absolutely fascinating, and you accomplished so much, even got me in a college newspaper! I didn't even go there!\" I laugh for a second, my laughs being cut short by a lump in my throat, as I hug him, tightly.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I am so sorry, my friend. You have triumphed in the past, overcome all the obstacles, allegories for my own life, you have done things that I have done, told for others, in a way that doesn't make me seem like the monster I once saw myself as.\" I feel his presence start to fade, as I whisper just a few, last words. \"For now, you'll continue to suffer, because that's what I'm doing. You're me, as I am you. You will suffer, you will long for what others have, and hopefully one day you'll forgive me. You are what keeps me whole, you are my therapy, my friend. One day we'll overcome this, like we always do.\"", "\"Do I know you?\"\n\nThere was something very familiar about her. The rodent-like eyes, the full lips, the absence of a chin..\n\n\"Argh, of course you do!\" She spat out those words interrupting my thoughts. \"You created me you idiot.\"\n\nShe pushed me aside and walked through the door. Bewildered, I followed her and watched her make herself comfortable on my teal couch. Of all the characters I had created, the sociopath with the vile personality had to be the one to knock on my door. Perfect. \n\n\"Uh, Lena? How are y-.. What are - I don't understand why you are here.\"\n\nShe looked me up and down with those rodent-like eyes and sneered. I was now very much aware of the fact that I was in pyjamas at 3.30pm and was wearing two different coloured socks.\n\n\"You are going to do me a favour,\" she said, interrupting my thoughts once again. \"Bring your laptop here. I'm going to be the author of your story now.\"\n\n", "\"F××k you\"\n\nBland and to the point. No theatrics, no build up, just a middle finger with two words.\n\n\"You've put me through Hell, and I'm supposed to be based of you, what the f××k is up with that?!\"\n\nA grin grew on my face\n\n\"I like writing intense things and tragedy, can't I do that?\"\n\nHe looked like a mixture of all my main characters, whether from writing prompts on Reddit or on that app in my phone, he shares some feature about each one.\n\n\"Can you at least tone it down a bit? My right arm has second degree burns for f××ks sake\"\n\nI had to think about that one for a moment\n\n\"Is that a no?\"\n\nI looked up so I could look into his eyes as I said this\n\n\"You're supposed to be a 'fantasy' version, someone that's designed to go through the worst things possible and still get out on top, I can maybe start hurting you a little less, but not entirely\"\n\nHe began nodding his head\n\n\"Yeah. I can deal with that. Thanks\"\n\nHe disappeared in front of me, apparently re-entering the fictional worlds I created. I guess I'll browse writing prompts for a while, see what's on it.\n\nThe End.", "I continued to write until I heard a knock at the door. I set my laptop to the side and went to answer it. When I opened the door, a man stood there. He had a sword strapped to his side and a large shield on his back. He wore steel armor that covered his entire body. The only thing not covered was his face, which had a large, jagged scar going down the left side. He was blind in his right eye. \n\n“Uuuummm,” I said, “Can I help you, sir?” The strange Warrior suddenly got down on one knee and bowed down to me. \n\n“I am graced by thy presence, oh mighty Creator,” he said in a deep voice. He had an accent that sounded almost Scottish, but there was something off about it. \n\n“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I replied. \n\n“Yah mean yah don’t remember me?” He said to me as he stood up. I shook my head. \n\n“Should I?”\n\n“I am Tillius Waric, son of Grimveer and King of Mulek. You created me an’ my people, but we are in dire need and I have come to request yer help.” I stepped back in bewilderment. \n\n“King Tillius Waric?” I said, “I wrote that story years ago. I never even published it. How could you know about that?”\n\n“I am not one of yer fans,” Tillius responded, “I am one of yer creations. And Mulek calls for yer aid. What say you?”\n\nI couldn’t believe this. It was impossible that one of my characters had come to life. I would have to test him, see if he really is who he says he is. \n\n“Tillius,” I said to him, “where is Mulek?”\n\n“Yer the one that created it,” he replied, “shouldn’t you know?”\n\n“I want to hear you say it.”\n\n“Well, it’s in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle of course. That’s how we stay hidden. We use our advanced technology to hide from satellites, planes and boats that come into our waters.” \nI couldn’t believe it. Hardly anyone new this story. But this had to be a joke. There was no way...\n\n“Then tell me, why do you still use swords and shields when you have such advanced technology?”\n\n“It’s more of a tradition really. If we get to advanced, we’ll have people tha want tah try and take over the entire world. An that’s not what we want. We just what to stay peaceful and hidden.”\nIt was possible that this story had gotten leaked somehow. I’d have to ask a question that wasn’t in the story. Something only the real Tillius Waric would know...\n\n“Final question. What is the flag of Mulek?”\nTillius stopped and looked at me. There was no way he could get this question correct. I was the only one that knew the answer. I never told it the story. There was no way he’d get it correct. \n\n“Do yah really know so little ‘bout the country you created?” He asked, “It’s a plain white flag of course. With a blue rose in the middle.”\nI stood there in amazement. It was impossible. This man really was the true King of Mulek. But how?\n\n“Are yah done quizzing me now?” He said, “Can we get tah the matter at hand?”\n\n“Please, come inside,” I said. I would have to ask questions later. Right now I just needed to help. \n\n“Mulek is under siege,” Tillius said as he entered my home, “A character from one of yer other stories has decided to attack us. He’s begun to enslave our people and and won’t stop until he has the throne.”\n\n“Who? Mulek was created to be an unreachable and unbreakable city. Not even the strongest of my characters could breach it.”\n\n“Well one has. His name is Nikolai.” I shivered. I had forgotten about Nikolai. One of the most evil characters I had ever created. His backstory was so tragic, he was literally incapable of smiling. In fact, he had almost no emotion at all. \n\n“There’s only one way to defeat Nikolai,” I said to Tillius, “But it was never written in a story or book. I had it planned out in my head, but I never actually put it in a story.”\n\n“How do we beat ‘im”\n\n“We need to find the other characters. It’s not coincidence that both you and Nikolai were brought here. If you two are here so are the others.”\n\n“What others?”\n\n“Through a series of different stories I wrote, but never published, I created different characters that could all band together to defeat Nikolai. There was you, Tillius Waric, the true King of Mulek, Me, the Creator, Pork Grylls, Distant Relative of Bear Grylls, John Williams, former British Parliament, now Photographer, and finally, Hank Mcmillains, 298 year old war veteran. He’s served in literally every single American war, starting from the beginning of America itself.”\n\n“So in order to reclaim my country and defeat Nikolai, we have to go and find these three other men? But why? They don’t sound so special.”\n\n“That was the point. A band of five generic, nearly ordinary people could form together to defeat a trained, deadly Russian assassin. It was a perfect story. But I never wrote it.”\n\n“ Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go find them!!”\n\n(I’m not going to continue this story, because it would be very long and complicated and have many references and thinks that only I understand. But, if you have any questions, I will gladly answer them. Yes, every single character mentioned is a character that I have actually created and they all have a backstory that I’ve created. So if you want to know, feel free to ask)\n\n(Edit: paragraph spacing)" ]	4
	[WP] You are a mad scientist. You like to laugh maniacally alongside your hunchback assistant, while powering up your insane inventions. You also work in a hospital, saving countless people's lives, while leaving them slightly traumatized.	[ "My name is Waldo, and I am mad.\n\nI laugh like a lunatic, in my top secret lab.\n\nBy my side, my trusty friend Max.\n\nWe built some inventions, and test them on rats.\n\nAfter we succeed, we insanely laugh.\n\nBut we fail mostly, and we cry like brats.\n\nBut that is our secret, not the daily work mask.\n\nI am titled as a doctor, and so is Max.\n\nWe server in a hospital, where emergencies stack.\n\nWe help wounded people, and give head pats.\n\nI'll tell one story, that doesn't seem bad.\n\nI remember a little lady, from a school bus crash.\n\nShe was seven maybe, or eight at max.\n\nShe was bleeding, and her body was smashed.\n\nOur invitation worked, and we healed all cracks.\n\nWith bunch of nano robots, who put things back.\n\nWe fixed her bones, and her flesh in a flash.\n\nHer face was healing, but the eyes didn't last.\n\nShe lost most of them, and the robots lost track.\n\nWe had no choice, and the truth was sad.\n\nHer mother was there, and she wont sit back.\n\nShe insisted on helping, so we never hold back.\n\nWe made our appointment, it was easy to do that.\n\nWe just finished testing, a new mad craft.\n\nThe next day we brought it, in a box that's black.\n\nThe child was ready, and so was the madam.\n\nOn close chairs they sat, they could hold hands.\n\nWe covered their faces, with strange looking masks.\n\nThey looked like glasses, with weird added scraps.\n\nSooner no later, we powered our lad.\n\nTheir left eyes were sucked, before they were swapped.\n\nIn pain the kid screamed, as joyfully we laughed.\n\nWe gladly succeeded, and accomplished the task. \n\nWe took off their masks, the mother was mad.\n\nShe slapped our faces, and called us quacks.\n\nThe child was crying, and emotionally squashed.\n\nShe told us that blindness, was better than that.\n\nShe yelled at her mother, this wasn't their pact.\n\nShe thought she was getting, eyes made of glass.\n\nHer mother said sorry, but she never felt that.\n\nShe kept one eye to see her, but not if she is sad.\n\nThe kid was crying, and her head the mother pat.\n\nEmbraced her body, and home they went back.\n\nShe left us smiling, and valued our task.\n\nShe hated us slightly, never forgave our bad.\n\nOne week later, she gave us a fancy pack.\n\nIn the pack was lying, a cake saying thanks.\n\nWe ate the cake happily, but our bellies made clanks.\n\nThe cake was sweet, but the agony was max.\n\nMax was laughing, he loved the prank.\n\nA sweet revenge he called it, I didn't get that.\n\nWe didn't die surely, but we got the message at.\n\n&#x200B;", "Clara knew hell was being stuck in rote, 8am traffic during what confused meteorologists were calling an offshore flash hurricane, with not one decent radio station able to punch through the midair waterfalls mistakable as rain. Where was she going at such exaggerated risk to self and country at this early hour? To work, obviously. To labor away, one more day, probably drenched in or outside the office, perfomring tasks as perfectly repetetive and productive as the endless swiping of her car's wipers. The radio offered some more static, and she considered catching up on a little sleep. She wasn't moving, anyway.\n\nThen, something large and heavy, and \\clearly\\ not meant for the skies, burst through the windshield, knocking her clean out.\n\nOn waking, she was damn sure hell was screaming at a bleeding dolphin weakly flapping across her passenger seat and jammed into her lap. Not that the little pocket of remaining air gave her much to scream with, given the raging torrent that dragged her poor car across new canals made of roads. She could have pulled herself away and out a window, but that damn \\dolphin\\. Punching it didn't help, and with the accusation in its glare, she was pretty sure it hated her as much as she it.\n\nThen, if that weren't enough, a large building just \\had\\ to jump in the way, and the minor cataclysm of sound and bending metal that followed tore her clean from consciousness.\n\nNow, though, she held in full, absolutely \\positive\\ conviction, that hell was waking to find herself lying on a hard table, wrists held by duct tape, listening to the wild cackling of two men dressed in labcoats over Hawaiian shirts and covered in blood, flinging what could only be organs about like so much garbage. She couldn't see the victim from this angle - the two were in the way - but she could see their table shaking, sometimes lifting inches off the ground and slamming back down as red poured off its sides. And she knew that she was next.\n\nHow did she know she was next? Probably because the tall one with standing gray hair turned around amidst the cacophony and grinned at her with eyes far too wide...\n\n\"Don't worry, my dear, we'll get you next!\"\n\nMaybe this was a good time to distract herself with unimaginable pain? Why yes, it was an \\excellent\\ time for that. If only there wasn't a water bottle filled with glowing green painkiller leaking into the area where her hips should have-\n\nMaybe this was a good time to distract herself with endless screaming? Absolutely! But she coudn't gather quite enough air to allow for the ear-rupturing volume the situation demanded. In fact, she could hardly gather air at all. Instead of breath, there was weak, steady wheezing. At that point, she heard the groans.\n\nThe miserable noises came from other tables, mostly. They were arranged in long lines across a room large enough to be a cafeteria, jammed together closer than was probably normal. Too little light made it hard to see further, but the sounds did carry.\n\nSo did the fear.\n\n\"Doc! Doc Dirk, the heart is stopped!\" This voice croaked, lines delivered in rapid spurts.\n\n\"Which one!\" And this voice was of a higher, rounder tone, but loud, manic.\n\n\"Second heart, blue one.\"\n\n\"Blue... That one needs manual work; use your hands, Jjir! Squeeze tighter! And put the other one away!\"\n\n\"Sure thing.\"\n\nA skeletally thin hand lifted a very red, still-vibrating heart and slid it under the labcoat into the large hump on the same, shorter figure's back. A squelching noise beneath the material and the extra organ was absorbed.\n\nFear.\n\nLightnig flashes from the windows in one corner of the room outlined another pair of men, pumping away at a large canister leading tubes into their thoats and unable to escape. Spit dripped down their chins and they gazed into nothing with sunken eyes.\n\nSo much...\n\nFrom another table, someone laughed, sobbed, lost their mind, and cried out. \"I feel them wriggling! I feel them inside me!\" A large, pulsing bag stretched out between their legs.\n\nSo much fear.\n\nClara had little strength to struggle with. Lifting her head enough to see an attempted escapee leap up and undulate his limbs like a thing possessed, a puppet dancing in-place, was all she could manage. He laughed loudest of all. At least until the hunchback karate-chopped him across the shoulder and laid him back down.\n\n\"Good job, Jjir! What I would give for some nice steel shackles! No one stocks steel shackles! Except that prison, see now \\they\\ had decent medical beds!\"\n\n\"Metal beds, Doc. Not comfy.\"\n\n\"But perfectly conductive of electricity!\" A pause. \"Damn! We don't have enough blood, and the fish aren't working!\" There were, for some reason, many fish flopping in a pile behind them that almost reached the ceiling.\n\nClara's teeth chattered. They were mad. They were out of their minds! Why did this have to happen to her? Sure, her life was boring! Sure, having no friends left in a town by the sea left her a little empty inside! But at least she wasn't empty \\outside\\! At least then she still had- She looked past her waist.\n\nNausea. A hiccup. A bottle with green liquid, now only half-full. Deep wetness around the eyes. And fear.\n\nThe pair stopped. They lowered their arms while staring down at a table unmoving. The tall one wailed a proxy of grief, and the short shook his head slowly, both stepping aside.\n\nShe saw then their victim, stared into eyes moist, cold, dead. She beheld a corpse, in spite of the madmen's best affronts, still and waiting to rot...\n\nIt was the goddamn dolphin!", "Ah, yes. The field of medicine. My favorite field, next to the one by my house back in Stuttgart, Germany.\n\nSee, funny thing about me is that I've actually had my license revoked, so technically I'm not supposed to be doing this. I'm one crazy bastard, but the stuff I slap together with some soda, blood, and duct tape can (and has) saved lives.\n\nBefore I was busy being a regular old doctor, I was a combat medic. My methods of saving lives were... unorthodox. That was when I had a prototype of \"The Medicine Gun\". It didn't shoot pills, but it did have a healing effect. Cuts, scrapes, gashes, broken bones; you name it, \"The Medicine Gun\" healed all of the booboos of war. I also ran around with a bonesaw and a gun that shot needles full of poison, but the Medicine Gun was the star of the show.\n\nAnyways, me and my Russian assistant spend hours on end in my basement, he walks around, fiddles with stuff, and hands me tools and holds the flashlights. I actually build the things, I source the materials, I test the gizmos before they go out into the world. The Medicine Gun 2.0 was at the top of my priority list, but I had side projects when I hit a roadblock and I needed to focus on something else. I finished tightening up the last of the nuts and bolts and threw the pack on my shoulder. I brought out a pigeon that had a broken wing. I flipped on the power and started giggling as my assistant started taking a few steps back. I pushed the lever forward and... splat.\n\n&#x200B;", "\"See this, Igor? THIS is the pinnacle of modern science! This mechanized arm can do anything! From being strong enough to crush through solid steel, to being armed with whichever tool the owner wants! A beam saber! A gatling gun! Or even better, the most blasphemous of inventions, the spork! You can use it even without missing an arm, this device simply repositions itself to accomodate the owner! One size fits all!\"\n\n\"Yes master, very wise. You are the most brilliant of minds!\"\n\n\"Ermm...hello?\"\n\nThe frizzled hair madman and the hunchback minion turned, staring at the young boy in the clean, spotless room.\n\n\"Oh yes, little Timmy! I just need to make a few adjustments.... and there! Parental controls are in place. Now toodles!\"\n\nTimmy watched in amazement as the wickedly awesome arm attached itself to his stump, and stared, missing the manical laughter petering out as Dr. E. Vilan skipped out of the hospital room with Igor by his side.", "The small black pager buzzed wildly with a new message for its owner. \n\nDr. Lazarus reached a long, spindly hand over the table, clenching the pager with deliberately slow movements, savoring the last vibrations until it gave up. If you didn’t know better, it would look like a pale spider devouring a trembling prey. \n\nThe doctor looked at the message, the greenish glow of the screen lighting up the crow’s feet and heavy bags under his hooded eyes, revealing a long, crooked Roman nose, and gaunt cheeks. Time had not been kind to the doctor. Then again, he had not been very kind either .\n\nA twisted smile flickered across the old man’s face as he read the message crafted by his assistant,\n\n“Got a live one for you 4 u boss. Well. Barely alive.” \n\nDr. Lazarus stood up suddenly, the fluid movement a contrast to his bony and aging frame. He walked to the sink and began the same meticulous ritual he had practiced for the last 50 years. Washed his hands in cold water that usually made others wince, but failed to affect him. Secured a surgical mask over his long chin and thin lips. Snapped on latex gloves unflinchingly. He held his hands up as he backed slowly against the door of his office that connects to the operating room. \n\nThe doctor’s appearance hadn’t failed scare hundreds of patients over the years. If you could call people who hadn’t consented to his practices “patients.” Girls, boys, grown men and women had all felt a similar shiver run down their spine when they saw the old man come near them at their most vulnerable moments. \n\nHis assistant stood waiting for him next to an operating table. Stood was a generous term, as the poor man’s hunchback had him in a perpetual bow. He shuffled over to the doctor, scalpel in hand as a ceremonial gift. He took his place by the doctor’s side as he gave him the details of today’s procedure. \n\n“Dakota Freeman. 8 years old. No prior medical records that we could access. Ruptured appendix. She’s been administer fluids, including glucose for low blood sugar levels. Our best estimate is that it burst 2 days ago.” \n\n“Who brought her in?” replied the doctor cooly. \n\n“An aunt. Couldn’t give her name out of fear, says she’s estranged from the immediate family, but she’s waiting for the girl at the warehouse.” \n\n“Did the aunt say if the immediate family had any suspicions?” \n\n“Not that we know of, doctor. But she’s young, someone is bound to come looking for her soon.” \n\nDr. Lazarus nodded. Nothing surprised him in his line of work anymore. After 30 years as a practicing surgeon, he grew sick and tired of watching the children of Christian Scientists die from preventable medical causes. The helplessness he felt when a family rejected his help and turned to prayer instead had forced him to go underground. No devout Christian Scientist would bring their child to a doctor, but many former followers were desperate to save their loved ones, even if they knew it would cost them their relationship with their family. The doctor had saved hundreds of lives and ripped apart almost as many families who turned to him instead of their god at the last possible second. \n\nHe looked down at the little girl whose heavy eyelids were fluttering to sleep. His heart broke at the thought of people who’d let her die to prove their devotion. Silently, without another thought, he began to work. ", "I have always been nervous around doctors and medicine. It's bad and you shouldn't do it, but I am the type of guy who'd ignore the signs and the symptoms and just believe that in time it will go away on it's own because it's better than going to a doctor.\n\nNaturally it was inevitable that eventually something will happen that doesn't just go away, and you need to see a professional before you cause real damage to yourself. I reached that point. Somehow I managed to get through the doors into my local doctor's surgery and moments after that I was rushed out of the place in the back of an ambulance.\n\nYou can imagine my state of mind once I was at the hospital. I didn't really know what was happening, it was all a blur. I next came to in a ward. I was on a bed with needles and cables sticking out of me. I was sore all over.\n\nThen they came in.\n\n\"Good morning! Well...you were certainly an interesting specimen yes? Heh heh heh.\"\n\nIs it the meds? Am I hallucinating? As the doctor stood there playing with his needle thin moustache another came in beside him. And it was hard not to stare and his obvious um...condition.\n\n\"Here is his chart Ma. Hmm. Siiir\"\n\nA joke? A prank? Oh my God ohmygod.\n\n\"Ah! Thank you. Wonderful, wonderful! I have to thank you sir. Yours was a most delightful experience. So many problems. I had to use my special instruments.\"\n\nHe smiled at me like a cat would smile at a mouse. It's like he is trying to keep his upper lip down to hide his fangs as well. I'm terrified, and I just lay there in silence with my eyes fixed on him.\n\n\"We almost lost you, you know. I can't help but admit a small part of me wanted nature to run it's course. Perhaps you left this vessel to medical science? There is so much I could do with this!\"\n\nHe starts patting on my leg. Somehow I'm yet to make a noise. It seems all the screaming in my head isn't getting out.\n\nThe hunchback approaches the bed from the other side, his gaze on the doctor.\n\n\"Sir. Remember what the administrator said about your sense of humour? Let's not terrify the poor soul.\"\n\nHe looked at me with a reassuring smile that was in no possible sense reassuring. The doctor let out a sigh.\n\n\"Very well. I apologise Mr Eaves. So to summarise your surgery was a success. It was quite lucky you came to us when you did. You are going to need to stay here for some weeks before we let you go. The surgery was extensive and you will need to be monitored. Hopefully nothing else will occur.\"\n\nFinally I manage to speak.\n\n\"O...OK. So am I in the clear? How likely is it that complications happen?\"\n\nHunchback answers this one.\n\n\"Unfortunately we cannot say. All we can do is wait and see. As of right now your body is responding well to medications, however it has just gone through significant trauma and will need time. I'm afraid the next few days won't be comfortable for you.\"\n\nBoth of them appear to be speaking more normally than they did. And it also looks like the hunchback's hunch has shrunken down somewhat. In fact it's barely noticeable now.\n\nThe doctor fiddles with his moustache...where's the moustache? Oh, he's scratching his top lip. Was there a moustache? I could've sworn...\n\nSuddenly I feel exhausted and I struggle to keep my eyes open. My heart rate slows and I start to relax. The doctors are fine, and I am fine. It's going to be OK.\n\nI catch a glimpse of the doctor as I fall asleep, injecting something into my arm. His moustache wearing cat grin is back, and now he has intense wide eyes.\n\n\"Sleep well my beautiful specimen. I will see you soon.\"\n\nMy eyes snap open with a sharp inhale and no one is there. The room is empty.", "I'm gonna go for a slightly different perspective here:\n\n\"It came out of nowhere, an eighteen-wheeler. Shithead didn't even stop to see if I was alright. Just minded my own business, waited for the light, looked both ways and before I knew it, he flew around the corner and I got smacked in the head with his mirror, of all things. Could have broken my Goddamn neck! But what really freaked me out is that everything went white for a real long time. Minutes, they said. That's what they told me in the ambulance, when I could finally... feel again. Ugh! It still gives me the chills thinking about it to this day.\n\n\"Anyway, they pulled me out of the ambulance into this huge ass parking garage, which in hinds sight I guess was a kind of loading dock. They drag out the stretcher, pull me in, and then that's where things felt kind of different. Keep in mind, I'm super out of it. I may as well have been high off my ass, and we get in, and suddenly, the floor felt like it had come out from under us and I jumped and nearly fell off the stretcher. We entered an elevator. What kind of hospital has an elevator for the stretchers? I could go on but this but, like before, this was the least of my concerns.\n\n\"Now, we're somewhere underground and, I shake my head, and the world gets a little clearer. I can see the guys take me, they walk me through a pretty normal looking place. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, until they put me in my bed and left. Almost immediately, my \"doctor,\" if you even want to call him that, tore, yes, tore the curtain off its freaking hinges coming in. Scariest guy I've ever seen. He had a permanent smile on his face like the joker, and he laughed just as freakishly. It was kind of a wheezy... \"euehuehuehue\" or something like that.\n\n\"I start screaming my ass off, 'cause in my mind I'm thinking he's some type of escaped mental patient, and he says, after taking the time to laugh his ass off, \"Don't worry sonny, I'm gonna fix you up real good. You got one bad bruise on that pretty head of yours. Think you'll need some stitches. Some painkillers. some Tylenol, some opiods, some morphine, some meth! You ever try meth? I have! It's grrrrreat!\" He said it just like Tony the Tiger, too, with the gesture and everything. 'Grrrrreat!'\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\" Is all I managed to squeeze out between my thumping headache.\n\n\"I'm you're doctor, sonny. Doctor House, Dr. Venture. Dr. Doom. Doc Holiday while you're at it. And I do it all, too. Too many medical professionals dream small. They say, 'Doctor, we just want the patient to live. Doctor, they don't need a second heart.' And I always tell em, 'out a the way, bitch!' my patients are my garden. I don't just want them to live. I want them to bloom!' I love that word. 'Bloom.'\n\n\"By now, A little... I almost wanna say festering dwarf came in. I know festering isn't the right word but give me a break. The guy was ugly as sin. His back went up a full foot above his head, and one of his eyes was like a big, black softball, and the other was like a marble-sized cat eye.\"\n\n\"Maester,\" He kept saying. \"Maester, is the patient comfortable.\"\n\n\"Comfortable?\" I thought, but the doctor answered for me, of course.\n\n\"Sure he's comfortable! Can't you see that look on his face! He's excited. He's gonna be the one, I know it!\"\n\n\"It just gradually declined from there. I would fade out for a bit, only to be shaken by this lunatic. He kept trying to tell me jokes, and tell me about his experiments, but it was all blurry as hell. Eventually, as he's slapping me repeatedly to try and get me to 'wake up' his freaky little sidekick comes back with some results, and the doc tosses them behind his head and says \"Yet, it's a concussion, alright. Come on Igor, Time for surgery.\"\n\n\"I was too weak to fight. I just let him carry me off. I figured if he was a real doctor at all then he could at least operate, but hey, I wasn't in the right mindset. Guy could have been super mundane with all the shit racing through my head. I hallucinated, I saw stars... It was just a mess. Might have even been a damn dream. The last thing I remember, though, is him saying to me, \"And don't worry, we'll catch that dirtbag who ran you over, too. I'll get to the bottom of it!\"\n\n\"I never told him I was run over... I don't know. Whatever. I came out of surgery fine. Walked out the next day, was escorted home, actually. Along the way, they told me to rest, to stay indoors, to not strain my eyes, the usual. They also said I may experience some strange... I think it was cognitive and critical thinking problems, among other thought related stuff. And I've just been here, at home, Every since. So what do you think, Robert?\"\n\n\"Tony!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"That still doesn't answer my question!\"\n\n\"What was the question again?\"\n\n\"Why are you a fucking gorilla?!\"\n\nThus concludes the story of the worlds very first (semi)successful brain transplant.", "My acute hearing picks up voices from inside the hospital door. It’s nurse Jones and my soon to be experiment.\n\n“Now mashtur?”\n\n“PATIENCE IGOR. My faithful assistant, a GENIUS such as myself can not POSSIBLY work without a proper introduction, how else should THEY know of my grandeur?!” HAHAAAAAHAHAHA”\n\n“Of courshe mashtur”\n\nIgor bows, then picks up the metal dome of his cranium, which had fallen down. What a good lad.\n\nI listen to the conversation.\n\nNurse Jones’ voice comes first, her melodious tones titillating my synapses. Nurse Jones is so nice, and she smells like Lilac and sunshine. And Diazepam.\n\n“Yes, a good chance actually, it’s just... you will have to be operated by someone and he is a bit.. special.”\n\nAh what a wonderful understatement. Nurse Jones has such a sense of spectacle! Such flair. I like her brown hair.\n\nA gravelly male voice answers. For some reason that makes me upset. Get on with it, experiment! \n\n“Well out with it. Who is it?”\n\n“It’s Doctor Zapp.”\n\nAh the reveal! Is he not entertained?! \n\n“WHAT? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!”\n\n“SHHH!”\n\nThe man is AWED at the mention of my name as it should be. Finally my reputation precedes me! What an auspicious day!\n\n“He turned a feral mutant alligator to goo less than a week ago! I saw it on the news!”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“The thing was as high as an apartment building!”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“He was cackling all the time!!! “\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“The man is fucking m..”\n\n“Shut up! Not a word more!”\n\nI don’t like it when nurse Jones scream, but she is right. The man has flattered me enough already and I don’t have all day. I have GRAND experiments to conduct.\n\n“Listen mister Crane. You know the diagnostic. You got two choices. You can go back home and spend your last week with your family, or you can spend one hour with doctor Zapp and get out of this room on your own two feet.”\n\n“I...”\n\n“Your wife is waiting outside with your younger son. Charlie, was it?”\n\n“I accept. I’m ready.”\n\n\n\nAHA! Time for my grand entrance. I kick the door open with my custom shoes and it crashes against the wall.\n\n“AHA! It is I, DOCTOR ZAPP! Are you ready for some EXPERIMENTS?! HAHAHAHA!”\n\nIgor rolls the machine in while I stand with my gloved hands on my hips. His back in hunched in effort. Actually it is always hunched. Is he always making efforts? I will have to check. Nurse Jones looks at me and I can tell that she is almost smiling. It is a good smile because she also smiles with her eyes. They are the same color as hazelnut. I like them. The man looks at me with bulging eyes and an open mouth. It means he is in awe. I think. People always look at me like that so it must be awe.\n\nThe man finally looks at Igor who plugs the machine in the wall. It lights up with an ominous hum and starts making clunking noises. Yellow lights switch on and off at random and green liquid bubbles suitably. The nano-machines dispenser is only 23 cubic centimeters big but I made sure the machine is camouflaged in something that looks like the bastard child of a church organ and printer. Else how could they be AWED by my GENIUS!\n\n“ IS EVERYTHING READY IGOR, FAITHFUL SERVANT?!?!”\n\nIgor smiles and pushes random buttons. The machine starts rumbling and shaking and it sounds like a gorilla in rut. Igor is in charge of the special effects. He is so dedicated. What a good lad.\n\n“Yesh mashtur! We may... begin....”\n\nI dramatically stretch my hand toward Mr Crane’s face, fingers extended.\n\n“ARE YOU READY FOR ANYTHING, MY BRAVE TEST SUBJECT?!?!?!”\n\nThe man opens and closes his mouth like a beached fish. He must be really awed. By his side, nurse Jones puts her hand in front of her mouth but I can hear her chuckle. She knows what comes next.\n\nI press the thumb of my extended hand against the secret button and an inflatable duck, confetti and three fortune cookies are propelled from my sleeve to Crane’s face. Simultaneously I stab him in the ankle vein with a sterilized needle while he is distracted. Because of the surprise he feels no pain\n\n“QUACK!”\n\nIgor echoes the noise of the plastic duck hitting Crane in the nose.\n\n“Quack! Quack! Quack!”\n\n“No, you are NOT READY HAHAHAHA BEHOOOOLD... SCIENCE!!!! IGOR! SWITCH ALL SWITCHES PULL ALL PULLEYS ! LEVEL ALL LEVERS!!! LET IT ALL! BREAK! PAST!”\n\nIgor obeys and soon the room is drowned in sounds and noises while sterile fluid (colored green) carries the nano-machines in Crane’s blood stream. I have attuned them to the patient immune system so there is no risk of rejection but I had to inject them in the ankle because his tumor is in his neck and I don’t want to risk shock when they start working.\n\nMeanwhile the show reaches its peak. I laugh and scream YES while Igor cackles madly and electric arcs scour the machine. With a single button I dim the light of the room. A great “Crack” sounds and all returns to normal. \n\n“IT WORKED! IT WORKED!!!” \n\nNurse Jones applauds with a smile then catches herself but I saw that and it makes me feel really warm in my chest. I like it a lot. Mr Crane looks even more awed than before if anything. His eyes are practically out of their orbits and his mouth hangs from his maxillary in a funny way. He is also completely green because he made nurse Jones scream and I dont like it. He will return to pink within a few months.\n\nI exit the room with nurse Jones and I follow her while Igor tails me. He pushes the machine away when nurse Jones turns to face me and he smiles. I dont know why.\n\n“Thanks again for your help dr Zapp.” \n\n“Oh uh hum I hmm”\n\nWhy can’t I AWE HER I’m the great DOCTOR ZAPP. I’m. Im momentarily at a loss for words.\n\n“ Did you want to... ask me something?”\n\nShe is smiling and I dont think there are any pearls in the oceans that are as pretty as her teeth. I feel warm again. \n\n“Would you like to go out with me?”\n\nWHAT?!?!?! The words just escaped the lips of the great... the... the TREMENDOUS DOCTOR ZAPP. It must be her smile. I must be distracted.\n\n“I’m sorry I’m very busy I am still at the beginning of my shift.”\n\n“Oh.”\n\nThe great doctor Zapp is not tremendous right now. I fell like someone gouged my chest with a frosty ice cream scoop thingie. Hahaha. Hah. But nurse Jones is smart and brave and she takes her duties seriously. And I respect that.\n\n“That said I’m due for a break. Do you want to come to the cafeteria with me? Grab a cup of tea?”\n\n“Hm yes I would like that very much. Please.”\n\nThe great doctor Zapp feels like he could lift a mountain right now.\n\n“I’m Celia by the way”\n\nI roll the name on my tongue and in my ears. Celia. Celia. Celia. I do not get tired of it. \n\n“I am Archie. Let’s go HAHAH. Hum. Let’s just go.”\n\n\n\n", "My father was a surgeon, his father was a psychiatrist, my brother was an engineer, my sister a lawyer. All of them had perfect smiles and abs without even trying. Me, I had a weak chin and asthma. I was too feeble to get one of the heroic degrees, so I settled for mad science. My mother wanted me to be a janitor, begged me. My dad simply stopped talking to me. In spite of my reassurances, they feared I would end up in villainy.\n\nBut I knew what I was doing. Medical science had stagnated, save for when a hero beat some mad scientist and stole his tech. Heck, every field of research had devolved to reverse engineering some villain's creation. So I realized that, if I really wanted to change the world, to make it a better place, I needed to do something unheard of. I had to go a little mad.\n\nMy first year at the school, we had to develop the means to power a small city and apply it to a single device. So many insane inventions require massive amounts of power. So I studied hard and built a basic replica Dr Atom's Pocket Fusion Generator. It had the power of a small star in a container the size of a soda can. The shell is literally an old soda can. You need an egg, three paper clips, and two nickels to make it. When I showed my brother how, it made us millions and wiped out several major power companies. Millions lost their jobs. My brother went to prison, though our sister got him the minimum sentence. That project got me a C in the class, as it was too large.\n\nMy sophomore year, I chose to help grandpa. I studied mind reading and swapping, and built a simple device, a modified x-ray machine, that let him see the complex networks that led to his patients' psychoseses. A quarter of my class dropped out as the machine had helped cure their madness. I nearly get expelled.\n\nJunior year, this year, I'm studying revivification of necrotic flesh. Dad has me up at the hospital, helping out. He's coming around, as I have restored paralyzed and damaged limbs, reversed organ failure, awakened comatose patients, and even brought one little girl back from the dead. She'll have to take iron pills and use high SPF sunscreen for the rest of her life, but she'll live. \n\nI'm a little worried how the school will take that, so I've listed her as a future vampiric minion in my notes. I hope that works, because my plan for next year is big. I mean world domination big. After all, if I'm in charge, it'll be a lot easier to introduce the rest of the world to mad science as a socially acceptable field, right?\n\nMwahaha. Mwahahaha. Mwahahahahahahaha. " ]	9
	[WP] You look into the mirror with firm resolve and say the words, “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody marry.” You step away from the mirror and look about the court room, anticipating her arrival. Today begins the trail of Mary Bloomington, a.k.a. Bloody Mary.	[ "The jury stares me down. I can see the skepticism etched all over their faces. I knew what I was getting myself into when I took this case. But how could I say no? \n\nWhen my sister called me to tell me that my nephew was in a sticky situation and needed legal representation, I couldn’t refuse them. He was just a kid. There was no way I was going to let my thirteen year old nephew take the fall for second-degree murder. I used to change his diapers. This kid didn’t have one violent bone in his body. When he told me his side of the story I was shocked. I knew there was no way he was capable of committing such a heinous crime. \n\nI wish the situation was different. I really do. I understand the doubt. I was just as doubtful when my nephew recounted the sequence of events to me. But this was our only option. As insane as it all was, I believed him. Now I just had to make this jury believe him too. \n\nWe have all heard the stories before. You go into a dark room and call for her three times. I can’t think of anyone who didn’t spent at least one slumber party huddled in the bathroom with a candle trying to summon a ghost. I also can’t think of anyone who has actually experienced anything actually happening. Well, until now. \n\nAccording to my nephew, Israel, they weren’t really trying to make contact with a ghost. Or at least he wasn’t. He just wanted to impress a girl that he liked. Her name was Astrid, and she had a flair for the macabre. You know the type. She preferred to dress in all black, and would draw upside crosses and skulls on her notebooks in black permanent marker. It was her idea to break into the girl’s gymnasium bathroom that was, at the time, closed off for remodeling. She brought the candle, and it was her that stood in front of that mirror and summoned \n\nNeither of them knew what they were really getting into, but it happened quickly. The spirit showed herself to them. According to Israel, she was, as her name states, covered in blood from head to toe. Her hair matted with it. He says that the scent of iron and rot filled the room. She had two bloody sockets for eyes that were infested with writhing maggots. Instead of hands, she had long, sharp, claws that were also dripping with blood. Her clothes were torn and stained with dirt and, you guessed it, more blood. \n\nIsrael says that the spirit spoke to Astrid in harsh whispers. He could not make out what she said. But before he knew it, the ghost had extended her claws out to Astrid’s face and plucked her eyes straight from her head. She then grabbed her by the neck and brought it up to her mouth, exposing her rows of rotting teeth. She sunk them into the flesh under Astrid’s jaw and started to drink to her fill. \n\nIt was at that point that Israel realized he needed to leave. He started to turn to run away, but he stopped when he saw the burning candle. For some reason, there was a voice inside his head telling him to blow the candle out. He charged towards the candle, catching the monster’s attention in the process. \n\nShe dropped Astrid’s frail body to the floor as she made her way towards Israel. He noticed that she was approaching quickly, but that her feet were not touching the ground. He felt something sharp touch the back of his neck, but before he could be pulled backwards he took one deep breath and blew out. As soon as the candle flickered off, he could feel the pressure from the back of his neck instantly release. \n\nHe lay there in the darkness of the bathroom floor, afraid to move. It took hours for him to muster up the courage to peel himself up off the grimey floor. As soon as he did, he ran. Straight into campus security. \n\nAs traumatized as he was, he wanted to do right by Astrid. He lead the security guard to Astrid’s body. He wasn’t even considered a suspect until a few days after. \n\nThey were going over what happened again with Israel, in his home. The police officer asked if he could use the restroom. It was in the restroom, right in front of the mirror on the sink, that the officer found two, bright blue eyes. Israel was locked up faster than you could say “Bloody Mary.” \n\n“Miss Cleary, are you ready to call your witness to the stand?”\n\nI turned to Israel, my client. \n\n“Are you sure we want to do this?” I asked him. \n\n“We have to. As long as we have the candle, we will be okay. As soon as she shows up, I will blow it out. It worked last time.” \n\nI knew this moment would make or break my career. I wasn’t even sure what I really wanted to happen. If she didn’t show up, my nephew would be charged with murder, and I would forever be known as the lawyer who cried urban legend. At least if she didn’t come, I could sleep at night knowing that creatures like “Bloody Mary” don’t really exist. \n\nBut what if she did come? Would I get my eyeballs snatched out too? What if the candle thing didn’t work? What would I be unleashing onto this courtroom? There’s a reason why people choose to not believe in the paranormal; because it’s fucking scary. \n\nNo matter what happened, it was too late to turn back now. \n\nI pulled back a sheet to reveal the mirror. I had them remove the same mirror that they used in the girl’s bathroom. Maybe there was something special about this specific mirror. We bought a new candle, but made sure it was exactly the same as the one they used before. I removed a lighter from my pocket and lit it. I set it down in front of Israel. He nodded at me. \n\nI took a deep breath and approached the mirror. I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead, as my heart started to race. \n\n“Bloody Mary.” \n\nNothing. \n\n“Bloody Mary.” \n\nNothing. \n\nI took one more breath. I looked at the jury. I couldn’t read them. They must have thought I was crazy. \n\n“Bloody Mary.” \n\nAs soon as the last syllable left my tongue, the temperature in the room dropped at least fifteen degrees. I could feel a chill run up my spine. I looked around the courtroom. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few people had stood up to get a better look at the mirror. A better look at her. \n\n“Yeah, who’s asking?” Just as Israel described, she was missing her eyes and drenched in blood. But she wasn’t as menacing as I expected. Her fingers and teeth looked normal. No maggots. If anything, she looked more like a murder victim than an actual murderer. \n\nThe room was silent. She took a deep inhale and gasped. \n\n“You, again? You monster! You should be ash--” \n\nIsrael started to blow out the candle, but I stopped him. \n\n“What are you doing?” He asked me in a tone I had never heard him use before. He sounded mad. Instinctually, I reached out and snatched the candle away from him. \n\n“He summoned me to kill her. That poor girl. And when I refused, he took matters into his own hands. All I could do was watch from behind the mirror while he tortured and murdered her! \n\n“She’s lying! Look at her, she’s the monster, not me!” \n\nShe began to tremble violently. The judge stared at her in awe. No one knew what to do. The armed officers drew their weapons but weren’t sure where to point. What would happen if they shot at her? Would they just break the glass? \n\nIsrael glanced around the table in front of him. He was within arms reach of a glass of water. He grabbed the glass and threw it towards the open flame. She was gone as soon as the fire was extinguished. \n\nHowever, she left us with a parting note. On the mirror, written from the inside with blood were three words: “There are more.” " ]	1
	[WP] Since you remember you had the power to read minds, but after many problems caused by your mind reading, you decided to never use it again. It all changes when a few years later you hear someone screaming "HELP!!!" inside your head.	[ "I was gifted. Or cursed, I can't really tell the difference. Who did that? No idea. Why? You're asking like I know. If I found the person I'd propably choke them. Or get them to to undo the thing, then choke them because they deserve it.\n\nBut seriously, who even thought that giving a random kid mind-reading powers was a good idea? I certainly didn't ask for them, because (from what I'm told) I was two at the time. My parents didn't approve either, but they too don't know who is is responsible for my abilities.\n\nOver the years I've read a few minds. Some of them accidentally, some of them on purpose and to my benefit. Examples of the situations I remember include a policeman irritated at yet another night shift call about hobos in the park being loud and drunk at 2:00. Or the time that I read the minds of my primary school class to gauge their opinion on me. Or when I somehow read the mind of a stray dog (for some reason it thought \"bark, I know you're reading me human, now get me some food, bark\" but honestly I have no idea how I've done that since I only managed it that one time. Or maybe I just dreamed of that one?\n\nWhen I was 16 though, I accidentally glanced at the mind of a pot addict. It was horryfiyng in ways I cannot describe. And so, I decided to stop reading minds.\n\nSo I stopped.\n\nUp until today.\n\nExcept, it was something different.\n\nI was walking down the street (I cannot express my \"love\" for the cold and snowy Central European winter evenings in sentences that don't include some pretty extreme profanities). I was headed to the train station to catch a sleeper train and finally head out somewhere outside my home city, at least for a daytrip. And then I heard some girl screaming.\n\n\\- HELP!!! - her voice was ripping through my head. I immediatelly stopped and turned around to the sight of people looking at me like if I was hearing voices. Well, I was, even though they couldn't hear them. I quickly figured that I must've misheard something and continued heading towards the train station.\n\n\\- HELP!!! Please, help me! If anyone can hear me, help! - Alright. One time I could've been mistaken, but twice? I had to investigate, especially as nobody reacted to the desperate pleads for help. And then it hit me: the girl was projecting her voice in my head somehow. How did she know that there was a mind-reader nearby? How did she know it was me? And why didn't she pick a random person from the crowd? I don't think having thoughts sent to you counts as mind-reading, does it? Or maybe she was just spewing the words in a radius and hoping someone would hear her? Yeah, this could be it. But it wasn't time for thinking about it. I had to react somehow, even if that meant missing my train and not visiting any of the tourist attractions in Warsaw.\n\n\\- Help! I'm in building 4, flat 1. Please! Anyone!\n\nWell, you've certainly got my attention. I'm coming in.\n\n---\n\nSomething, something, my personal writing subreddit: /r/lecetrabantem. Check it out.\n\nEdit: [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/lecetrabantem/comments/9g05sk/part_2_since_you_remember_you_had_the_power_to/) is live, both on my subreddit and below in the comments!\n\nEdit2: Damn plotholes! Also wording was ugly in some places. Still needs some more work but it's alright for now." ]	1
	[WP] Your thing is scrolling through parallel worlds to see how other versions of you are doing. If you like your life in a given world, you get rid of the other you and take his place.	[ "Everything Dylan-259 did was amazing. Her life was every single decision I’d wished I could do over. Every regret I’d ever had, she’d never felt. She was pristine. She glowed. She was so happy. \n\nI had to kill her. She had my life. \n\nIt’s easy to do. World Wide Solutions gave me the implants when I was born. Lasers that come out of eyes. Weird metallic guns that unfold themselves from my shoulder blades and look...cool. I guess. Like I’m going to kick ass, somewhere. They feel like shit coming out. They feel like someone is forcing a pipe through your skin and bones and setting fire to your head and it goes on and on because they didn’t limit them. Before Dylan-259 I’d only been scared enough to use them once on a drunk guy who kept beating the sidewalk and screaming about angels. And once accidentally. \n\n\n259 didn’t have implants. She was...easy to kill. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are awakened by a knock on the door. You blearily open it to see two military officers in dress uniform. They look nervous.	[ "\"Mrs. Winters.\" One says, looking at my eyes. \"We must ask to come in.\" I moved my body away from the door and the two soldiers hurried in, slamming it shut and pushing my couch to block it. \"Cover the windows!\" He shouted, grabbing sheets and nails, the other one already having a hammer. I was shocked.\n\n\"Now wait one second!\" I shouted, looking at them. They stared at me, their faces pale. \"What is going on that you have invaded my entire home?\" I yelled. The second one gulped. I had been living with my husband, Nikolai, for a few years now. Nikolai and I had been living in isolation, up in the forest, and we liked it that way.\n\nThe second one began to sweat. \"Well, y...You see,\" He stammered, \"There's something chasing us.\" I was livid at those words.\n\n\"So you brought it to my home!\" I yelled at them, half ready to grab Niko's gun and shoot them in the heads. They both looked at each other, and we all three froze at the sound of a low, guttural growl. \"What is that?\" I asked softly, backing up. The first soldier started nailing the sheets over the curtains.\n\n\"Don't look at it,\" He said. \"No matter how badly it makes you want to. It changes, it deforms, and it takes their life.\" The soldier told me. \"It knows who you're close to. And it takes their voice to be like them.\" After hiding us from the thing outside, we all went into the kitchen.\n\nI headed into my room and took Niko's gun, admiring the pistol he had. \"Evie?\" I heard him call. I froze. \"Evie, open the door! There's something out here!\" Before I could rush and move the barricade, the other soldier grabbed me and grabbed his gun and hit me over my head.\n\nI woke up in the morning. There was a news report of a mass murder, but no one got a good look at it. I wanted to see Nikolai, but I figured that he had passed while outside. He came home hours after I woke up, grabbing onto me, begging to know if I was alright. \n\nThat's when I noticed the small cut on his neck." ]	1
	[WP] Your girlfriend is breaking up with you. She’s extremely uncomfortable with the fact that you’re totally calm, accepting and understanding of this. She considers not ending things, but you know her secret. This relationship has to end, and she needs to be the one who ends it.	[ "“WHAT DO YOU MEAN OK?!” She said staring at me in shock. How could you just be fine with me dumping you, I mean, I thought you would at least be mad that I won’t tell you why.\n\nI sat there and thought to myself that this had to happen. How else could it go, if she knew what I knew, there’s no way she would want to stay with me anyways. \n\n“At least say something, don’t just sit there like an idiot staring off into space.” {I wonder what’s wrong with him, it’s not like him to be so quiet}. \n\nAs I sit there reading her mind, I could see her stress start to build. I wonder how she could not know who I really was, after all, I’m technically the reason she is breaking up with me.\n\n“Kara, listen, I know that right now is not the right time for us to be together, and I know that you basically have no choice. One day, however, maybe we can be together again. That’s why it’s ok with me.”\n\nShe looked shook, as if my words hit a chord in her mind, as if she suddenly knew who I was.\n\n{There’s no way he knows I’m Supergirl, I mean how could he. If it weren’t for Braniac threatening to kill everyone I loved, I wouldn’t even be in this situation.}\n\nJust then I decided to make it easier on her and simply stood up, said good bye to the love of my life and walked out of our apartment. I did not know when we started dating who she was. I never even dared read her mind while dating, out of respect. Who knew that threatening Kal-El’s cousin would reveal the mistake I had made.\n\n“What have I done.”\n\nI could feel her pain as I walked out of the building.\n\n(To he Continued, Maybe)\n\nEdit: I fixed some grammar issues, I wrote this on my phone rushing earlier. This is my first WP I hope you like it.", "I really thought I could change things. \n\nI obeyed the rules. I was ordered to observe and that's what I did. Don't abuse this gift and wait for my first assignment is what they said. So I kept my hands clean, accepted that being a time traveller meant my life would be at the mercy of these restrictions. Did everything right. Then I met her. \n\nAnd I knew I couldn't not know her. \n\nI fell in love with the way she held conversation with strangers and the way she tossed her pony tail over her shoulder when she picked up her morning coffee. She’d bounce on her feet on her way to the post office where she worked like a young girl again on her first day at school. Her enthusiasm for life was intoxicating. Her cheer was contagious. \n\nOf course, I didn't know what she was destined for the first time I met her. Ordinarily, I would've enjoyed a conversation or a date or two and then been on my way. Being a time traveller doesn't afford me the ability to have a serious relationship. I never really wanted one, anyway. \n\nBut she was different. God, why did she have to be so different? \n\nI knew that it would end. Somewhere along the way, I just decided that the pain of losing her would be worth the memories we’d make together. Not many time travellers can say they knew love. \n\nShe stood in front of me now, arms crossed, tears running down her rosey cheeks. I can tell she's frustrated that I'm not reacting to her wanting to end things. But how do I tell her that I knew - I knew I wasn't her soulmate? It was always someone else. \n\nIt was always him, a delivery driver at her work. No one particularly spectacular. But he was always meant for her and she was always meant for him. I should've never interfered with what I knew to be true...\n\nI couldn't change anything. Despite my love for her, I couldn't change who her heart loved. \n\n”If you're not going to say anything then you should go, ” she finally whispers. I want to run my fingers through her hair on more time, or kiss her neck in that special way that gives her goose bumps. I want to take her into my arms and comfort her. \n\nInstead, I flash my most sympathetic smile and leave. I look back only to catch her shoulders shake as she breaks into more tears. \n\nOutside, the rainy weather is a perfect reflection of my mind. Cloudy, dark, miserable. I want to start doubting that this was worth the last couple years I spent in love, but I push those thoughts away and start walking down the street. I don't want to think about this anymore. \n\n”Peter, ” someone calls from behind me. I stop. I know that voice. \n\nIt's her, but it's not the version of her I know. Her long hair she usually wore in a ponytail was cut to her chin. She had fine lines around her eyes and mouth. She stood straighter, prouder. ”Elena?” \n\n”It wasn't meant to be, ” she says after a long pause.\n\n”Yes, I know.” \n\n”And you knew but you stayed with me anyway.” \n\n”Yes.” It wasn't a question. \n\n”The future isn't written in stone, you know.” \n\n”But I always saw you breaking up with me and ending up with him. Every time.” \n\nShe continues toward me, twirling with her hands in her coat pocket. ”It was never meant to be now. It might not be meant to be for a while.” She's an inch in front of me now, looking up at me with big doe eyes. ”You didn't even try to fight for me. Now you'll never know your true power.” \n\n”Whats the point of knowing the future if it can change at the drop of a hat?” \n\nShe smiles. ”I guess that just means we never truly know the future, do we?” She turns on her heels and walks away. \n\nWas Elena always meant to meet me today? Why not yesterday? Was this always supposed to happen? Why didn’t I see it? And Elena, a traveller of the future? What year did she come from? \n\nIt didn’t matter anymore. I thought I knew everything... but it meant nothing. The only concrete thing I knew now was that I wouldn’t let Elena leave me. I could fight. Maybe I could still really change things. \n\nMaybe I already have. \n\n(Eh, I had an idea but it kind of escaped me as I started writing.. first time posting here)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I sat at my cup of coffee, a wan smile on my face, as she grew ever-flustered. She could not understand how I could be so calm and composed about what, to her, was extremely traumatic. It would have had been traumatic to anyone else as well, and if the girl sitting before me now was anyone else the tears would probably have been rolling down my face too. But this was no ordinary breakup.\n\nGranted, it took her a great deal of time to reach this conclusion. We went on many dates together, all over the country and a little outside of it. We knew each other inside out, short of crawling into each others' skin. For the first time in my life, I felt what love was. Of course, that was what I thought. But no person knows everything, and similarly I didn't know everything about my girlfriend.\n\nWhat I knew, however, was what she didn't know that I knew. Did she really think I wouldn't see the wigs in her room hiding her hair loss from the stress and the therapy? That I wouldn't take notice when her appointments started becoming more regular, as though seeing a doctor, despite her claims to the contrary? That I wouldn't see her meals getting smaller and smaller, until she was half her healthy weight? It was madness to see her waste away. It was truly tragedy, something I thought I would never have had to live with. But I'm no doctor, and even the doctors couldn't help her. If it is time for her to go, then no force of human creation can prevent that. They can only delay the inevitable.\n\nAnd as I sit over my cup of coffee, the wan smile on my face is at its breaking point. I know her secret. But I cannot make her last few moments painful. Her eyes turn red and puffy, tears rolling down those beautiful cheeks I used to kiss so tenderly, as the room goes black. I see the Reaper behind her. The black-cloaked figure nods, and takes a step back for me to do what I need to do.\n\nI reach for her rapidly fading pulse as she falls out of her chair to the floor. She has stopped crying, and is merely confused.\n\nI deliver not the kiss of life, but the kiss of death. I tell her that I will always love her, and it is time for her to go on her own terms. As the Reaper collects her from my arms into his, she understands the last and most important thing in her life, and closes her eyes for the last time, her last image being my face.\n\nIn order to go in peace, she must be the one to end the beauty that was our potential future." ]	3
	[WP] You take a job on the overnight shift. Your boss is going over a bunch of weird, and strange rules that don't make a whole lot of sense. When your shift starts, you find everyone you interact with is some sort of creature of the night.	[ "\"Do not maintain eye contact,\" said the scruffy old man. \"That's the first thing you should know when working here.\"\n\nHe reeked of old tobacco and frying oil, the remnants of his fast food dinner stuck to his long white beard. He had introduced himself as Alex, my supervisor who would be introducing me to this new part-time gig. As he spoke, a whiff of something different seemed to pass me by. Something not very human.\n\n\"No eye contact? That seems like a strange rule to have. Am I going to be working with a bunch of socially anxious neckbeards or something?\"\n\n\"Just shut up for a bit and let me go through the rest of the rules.\"\n\n\"Right, sorry.\"\n\n\"When approached, back off slowly and carefully. Do not carry any strong scents, especially not of garlic.\"\n\nWhat strange things to say to a new part-timer on his first day. I was getting more and more suspicious of this whole gig. Argh, I should not have signed up for the first thing I saw on craigslist just to pay off my student loans.\n\n\"If you get injured in any way, cover up the wounds immediately. Do not, and this is extremely important, do not carry any scent of blood on you.\" \n\nThese rules were getting weirder and weirder. Blood? Why would that even be relevant to whatever my job is? Granted, I didn't read the job description, but this was really getting sketchy.\n\n\"If you are trapped or caught, do not resist. Play dead. Do not scream.\"\n\n\"Look, I've been quiet about this for a while, but this is getting ridiculous. Why the hell would I have to play dead just for this stupid part-time gig? What exactly do I have to do?\n\n\n\"Haven't you been listening? Just give them their food and try not to become food yourself,\" Alex grunted at me. He squinted at me through stained glasses. \"Or do you not want the money?\"\n\nNow it sounded like even my life was in danger. Wait, don't become food? Cover up any smells of blood? I've read too many horror stories to know where this is going-\n\n\"I need to go now. My shift is up. I hope I'll see you alive in the morning.\"\n\n\"Wait! Stop! Tell me more first!\" My screams of desperation were interrupted by the steel gates slamming shut. Alex marched briskly away, and soon faded into the darkness.\n\nIn front of me, shrouded under the cover of the night fog, was my workplace. It seemed rather big. Parts of it were dimly lit by lamps. It gave me the impression of an old graveyard. The overcast weather did nothing to help the distinct 90s-horror-movie feel.\n\nGingerly, I took a step forward, armed with my torch, and proceeded on. Alex told me to clean the area, so I had better get started with that-\n\nI stopped. A shadowy figure appeared in front of me. Something gleamed in the dim moonlight. I looked closer. Fangs!\n\nI wanted to squeal, to scream for dear life, but I strangled that instinct with pure fear. Eyes wide open, mouth agape, heavy breathing. But I had watched enough horror movies to know where this was going, and I would not be the next guy to be torn apart off screen while screaming.\n\nI kept as still as I could, calming my frantically beating heart. The figure drew closer. I braced myself. A vampire? A werewolf? Just what could it be? Would I die, or face a fate worse than that? Damn, and I had just graduated from college! My adult life was about to start, so why did it have to end here!? I shut my eyes close now, not daring to see whoever or whatever it was in front of me.\n\nI felt my foot catch on a branch on the ground. My arm scraped across the rocky ground. I could feel the fresh, warm blood seep out. \n\n\"Do not carry any scent of blood.\" Damn it, no, stop bleeding, oh god, the smell, it's spreading, no-!\n\nI heard a light clanging of metal, and I felt the ever approaching presence suddenly stop. I heard a growl. I opened my eyes.\n\nFur. Dark brown, from what I could tell. A fluffy mane. Fangs, a neat row of them. But separated from me by a metal fence. The King of Beasts stared at me for a while. I averted my eyes, and the lion crept away from the fence and back to its lair.\n\nI looked around. Right. A zoo. That explains the weird smell. Guess I won't be meeting any vampires or werewolves or strange SCP creatures now then.\n\nStrangely dissatisfied, I tossed the meat that was in my bucket into the lair. The lion gobbled it up and made an uncharacteristic purring sound. As docile as a housecat, what a king of beasts.\n\nWell, this wouldn't be the worst part time job. I was kind of an antisocial neckbeard myself.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are the strongest being in the universe, but everyone know your weakness. You are made of glass.	[ "After countless of millenia the fleets had ravaged countless of planets. The time had come for the planet Cyber to join the empire and be conquered. Ryan had been the governor of the planet. He remembered all the good things and all the bad things. Rebellions. Taxes. Scientific advances. Maybe the burden had been too heavy. Maybe his hair would have another color if he had only lived a quiet life. Ryan sat in his suit in the Governor's mansion. He wore his suit and his gray hair was freshly trimmed. Now, he was only a tool. Perhaps he had only been a tool. He knew that the emperor of the known universe would enter his door any minute. Could he have done anything different? Had he lost the ultimate game?\n\nTwo guards opened the door and escorted the emperor inside. It was clear to Ryan that his reign was over. He looked at his new boss. The creature had no name, but previously everybody knew that the creature called itself the empire. It had no name. The bright light shone through the creature, reflecting and focusing beams of light everywhere in the room. The emperor was shining and there were always soldiers by his side.\n\n\"Do you see through me?\" Ryan didn't know what to make of the question the emperor asked him. Was he looking for a reason to execute him? Was this merely en exercise in humility to the emperor. If so, what could he do to pass? That small, old man made of frail glass. Ryan refused to believe it.\n\n\"It has already begun.\" The emperor spoke. Ryan played it safe. That is one of the secrets you learn when handeling power. Never make a rash move. Many time the game is won simply by waiting it out. A monologue followed. Ryan sat down. After all, what could he, a mere mortal human explain a being that was millenias old. Speak when spoken to. That was his role now. From being the supreme Governor of an entire planet, reduced to a secretary? He realized that he was facing something all powerful. Resistance was futile. But, surely, he could simply break the being. Crush him like a glass?\n\nThe emperor drew a smile and continued his monologue. Yes, you can. The things I've seen are so much. I've lived hundreds, if not thousand of lives measured in human's time. This is all that's left of me. I have power now, but this is nothing compared to my youthly vigour. If you met me in my youth, even the sight of me would have burned right through you. Now, you only see an empty shell. I am but a reflection of myself. A reflection of my surroundings. Surely, even with the brief life as a human you know what I'm talking about. I believe you're even starting to see the that you're a bit glassy yourself. Yes, you see through me. But I am the empire. I am the sum of everything that has happened for millenias. I am the total power of something that spans across this galaxy. \n\nRyan knew now that the being standing in front of him was probably transparent. But, he was starting to wonder. With the immense precense this being had, was he really limited to a body. This frail being of glass that stood before him looked like it would break any minute. But, it was the glue that held the galaxy together. And, in the corner of his eyes, Ryan saw spots of lights that had passed through the emperor moving in unnatural ways. He realized he was surrounded. The emperor was a being of light.\n\nI am a reflection of you as well now. The emperor continued. You will serve me well. I am glad you passed the test. If you had crushed my frail shell of a body, you would have released me. That would have been very bad for you indeed.\n\nRyan took a long breath, realizing that that he had been all wrong. This body of glass was not meant to hold something inside safe. It was there to keep the outside safe of what was inside. The fire that burned inside the emperor in front of him burned like a thousand suns inside. Ryan was afraid. The next day, Ryan went to work carrying out the orders of the empire, constantly looking at those spots of light that moved on the wall. Surely, the emperor could not be here watching him?" ]	1
credit: https://twitter.com/_Jack_Graham_/status/1041263025855057920	[WP] Remake 'They Live!', but in this version the glasses hide the truth about the world instead of revealing it. People wear them voluntarily. They sell like hotcakes. People decide the glasses-version of the world is real. They get angry when told to take their glasses off.	[ "I still remember when these stupid glasses became all the rage. Almost over night everyone was wearing them. It wasn't long before people forgot what life was like without them. If you didn't wear them you were considered rude, unpredictable, and a general threat to safety. Needless to say, no one took their glasses off.\n\nI have to admit, though. Sometimes it's nice to live in ignorance. But it's not a place to live forever. We all need a wake up call from time to time. That's why I stopped wearing my glasses. And that's why I'm on the run. \n\nBut I'm not going to run forever. Nope. I'm planning an offensive. Just lil' ol' me, a baseball bat, and the hope that deep down, the people yearn for the truth. That they're just waiting for someone to make the first move. \n\n-----\n\n\n\"I have come here to break stuff and vape,\" I said as I stepped inside the warehouse. \"And I'm all out of vape juice.\"\n\nBreak Stuff by Limp Bizkit began blaring through my headphones, which I couldn't help but to synchronize the swinging of my bat with as I took box upon box to task for containing hundreds of those awful glasses. \n\nAfter a few minutes, I decided I was going about things in a terribly inefficient way, but man oh man was it fun. I tossed the bat aside and pulled a pistol from the back of my jeans and shot holes in every piece of manufacturing equipment I could find. Molten plastic spewed from pipes, belts flipped apart and rolled up into the mechanics of the machines, grinding them to a halt. Sparks shot out of the electronics, a few of which landed on some boxes, quietly setting them ablaze. \n\n\"There he is!\" The angry voice of a lizard person screamed. \"Kill him.\"\n\nArmed freaks chased after me, like bees intent on avenging their busted nest. \n\nI hopped onto my motorcycle and left an aggressive trail of rubber for them to seeth over right in front of their burning building. One battle has been won, but the war for the hearts and minds of my brethren has only just begun. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Thanksgiving is in full swing, your family and extended family have arrived and are ready to eat. The only thing is, your mother comes from a long line of supervillains while your father comes from a long line of superheroes. Both sides hate each other, but your parents love their marriage.	[ "Thanks giving in my house is crazy. You think your thanksgiving is crazy? You haven’t seen mine. You see, in rare occasions some people get superpowers. Usually it’s linked to genetics. And after that happens, it usually goes 1 of three paths: normal joe hiding it, super hero, or super villain. My parents were the latter two. My mom was the lantern, a skilled light manipulator who used illusions and quick body and mind to stand toe to toe with the greatest villains. My father was a shadow manipulator, who worked to cloak the city in night so he could rule it as a city state. They naturally became nemisises. And I suppose opposites attract. They worked the same day job and fell in love. Mom says they both confessed their alter egos on the same night, and when they realized it changed nothing, that was when they knew it was meant to be.\nThey staged one final epic battle for the city. Dad says it was the flashiest battle ever fought between two people. In the end the lantern “won” and the “count of night” was “defeated. The lantern retired and they got married and had me and my sister. But remember how I said superpowers were often genetic? That means that not only do my sister and I inherit powers, it means we have a whole extended family of superpowers hero’s and villains. And everyone comes to thanksgiving. My family is smart enough to rent out a house in the countryside for the entirety of thanksgiving week, but that doesn’t stop the fighting. No, that just means no one is going to see it.\nI come from two long lines of hero’s and villains, and both want me and my sister to dedicate to one side. It’s weird, they constantly fight over getting to spend time with my sister and I, but not because we’re family, but because we’re undecided. Because we don’t know if we want to be hero’s or villains. And to worst of it is the house becomes a battle field. Mom can barely enforce “no fighting in the kitchen.”\nBut that’s thanksgiving for me I guess, watching as villains and hero’s, who I know and care about, tear a new one into whatever unfortunate landscape our rental is on.", "Uncle Ron, Dad's brother, picked up a heaping helping spoon of potato salad and just as he was about to dump it on his plate with a grin, it gained a translucent coating of thick ice and stuck to the spoon. He looked up and over at Aunt Betty, Mom's sister, as she quickly stashed a complicated looking device with a steaming lens and he dropped the spoon on the table, \"Oh real freakin' mature Betty. Realy freakin' mature! Did you see that Frank? You see what you sister in law did?\"\n\n\"Oh stop whining Ron, just thaw it out.\" Dad rolled his eyes at his big brother as he grabbed the potato salad himself. Uncle Ron was already in the process of using a controlled stream of his fire breath to reheat the spoon he had dropped.\n\n\"Yeah, Ron. Just thaw it out!\" Aunt Betty snickered as Ron's face went red.\n\n\"It's the principle of the thing, damn it! Just because it's a minor inconvenience, doesn't stop it from being rude!\" He tipped the now-bubbling potato salad onto his plate and blew a small heated breath over the gathered puddle next to his plate to evaporate it. \"If we have to be civil, so do they!\"\n\nGrandma Nelly, Dad's mom, nodded her agreement, \"Oh if Phil was still alive...\"\n\nGrandpa Harold, Mom's dad, put his knife and fork down on his plate loudly, \"Oh don't start that again, you old bat!\"\n\n\"Mom, please... We all saw the footage from the battle and we know that it was an accident. Dad flew right into the beam at just the right time to be fatal. The investigation went on for years...you know this!\" Dad sighed heavily, knowing that that wouldn't be the end of it anyway.\n\n\"But if was this old coot's machine that made the beam! If he hadn't been trying to write his name on the moon for whatever reason-\"\n\n\"It's called branding, Nelly! You should know! You plastered your logo all over that ugly-ass building down town that you call a 'headquarters'.\" \n\nMom's eyes went wide, \"DAD! Language!\"\n\n\"Oh shi-...\" he glanced at me watching with a grin on my face at the family drama. \"-vvers... Sorry, Marcy.\"\n\nGreat Uncle Bob on Mom's side stood up and reached over for the giant turkey in the middle of the table with one hand and put the other hand to his temple, \"If we're all done with the stupid back and forth, I'd like to get to the meat.\" He started to use his telekinesis to perfectly slice and pull apart the bird so that everyone on his side of the table and I had a slightly bigger piece than everyone on the other side. Before anyone could protest, the pieces all floated to the individual plates.\n\nAunt Grace looked over at Bob with a raised eyebrow, \"Really? Come on, I know you're a villain but this is just mean. You know I need more protein than Betty, the god damn science nerd.\" Aunt Betty just giggled through her nose as she was already munching on her piece. Grace sighed hard and reached for the coleslaw for another helping to fill her lean muscled frame up. I couldn't help but laugh at the back and forth.\n\n\"Lawrence, it's not nice to find mirth in arguments.\" Mom looked at me with slightly angry eyes and I dropped my head down to my plate and poured cranberry sauce on my turkey. \"That's better.\" She turned to the group of villains on the right side of the table, \"Now can we please all just enjoy the one day of the year that we spend together without being at each other's throats?\"\n\nDad nodded and spoke through a mouthful of sweet potato casserole, \"That's right,\" he looked at the super powered heroes on the left of the table, \"behave yourselves while you're under our roof, please. And please stop using powers!\" Everyone grunted in agreement. Not happy, but wanting to please the most powerful couple in the room. I summoned the potato salad in a puff of smoke, hoping my parents wouldn't notice but Dad looked right at me, \"LARRY! What did I just say?!?\"\n\n\"I...but it was all the way over the other en-\"\n\n\"Larrryyyy....\"\n\n\"Sorry Dad...\"\n\n---\n\nlol, hopefully this was good enough. I just wanted to go with a lighthearted take.", "Feelings have a strange ways of messing up expectations. I learned this from a young age when both my parents told me the story of how they met as opposite sides of a hero villain fight and instead fell in love. Mother was pressured by her family as the culmination of intellect and power to take over the world and Father being pressured by his to take on the reigns him being the most powerful yet in their line of powers. Their first meeting was supposed to be an epic showdown, a battle for the ages that could decide the fate of the world once and for all as their families battled around them; instead they had their first date and eloped together. They took their massive funds granted to them by their families meant for secret base establishing, sidekick/minion paying, and medical expenses; and instead used that to establish a comfortable life for themselves then having me. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nFor a time we were left alone and unnoticed, eventually both missed their siblings and decided to reconnect with them, arranging which would appear which holidays and what masks they would put on to make it look like they were bringing the other to their side. It worked for a few years and I grew up and matured fast in order to help keep our loving household together. That was when a goof was made.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNeither blamed the other for this cause both sides enjoyed visiting us finding it a vacation from the fighting in the big city. We were at the store the week of picking out the last things we needed for the meal when my father asked how many of my mother's family rsvp'd. Confused my mother stated that she thought it was his family's turn to visit. It was then that it clicked that they had inadvertently invited both sides of the family. Deciding to bite the bullet finally they got enough for both sides and began praying that maybe it would work out. Of course it wouldn't.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEarly on it was agreed among the three of us that we would at least delay as long as possible. We kept the incoming family in different wings of the house as the three of us bounced back and forth between entertaining them and prepping dinner. Only a couple close calls with bathroom usage (Seriously a doctor should be seen about how often Aunt Rose had to go, of course then again I think Uncle Martin may be the cause of that) otherwise at least it seemed to be holding. It was when dinner was announced to be served, Mom went to fetch her family, Dad his while I finished prepping the table.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe instant both sides walked in everything became so tense I swear I heard a pin drop on the moon (went their once and great grandma's view of the earth is really spectacular.). Mom and Dad blessed them started trying to explain to their respective sides but as three generations of nemesises began staring down, some prepping their powers I yelled stop, literally halting everything in the room but my parents. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I know that you may not like it but my parents love each other and have built a home for us based on that love. Every time I turn on the television I have to watch both sides of my family try and kill each other and then have to play along with your emotions when you boast your victories and moan your defeats knowing that I will likely then hear the other side of the same story with the opposite emotion. Now I love you all but if you want to slug it out go and take it back to the city cause here is a house of peace that has no interest in your little war.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNormally I would be scolded for using one of my powers on others but the look of relief they gave me signaled thanks. I spoke release letting them all resume control. Both sides silently glared at each other before coming to a silent agreement. Finally my father's mother spoke up \"I honestly hate half the people in this room right now, but for my grandson I am willing to extend that for the sake of family this home become a place of peace.\" My mother's father (my dad's mom's archnemesis) stated \"As much as I hate you I must agree cause I feel we btoh love the kid just as much.\" My parents and I all breathed a sigh of relief.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThanksgiving was odd as both sides started recounting tales, but when one side got too boastful I would add in some lines reminding them of a humbling moment caused by the other. By the time we rolled pie out everyone was laughing together at having heard sides of stories they didn't realize and teasing mocking at grandfather's obsession with shark tanks and grandmother's ridiculous heroic speeches that often led to getting dumped in said shark tanks. By the end of the night everyone admitted to having a great time and couldn't wait for Christmas. I don't think I need to say that the level of exhaustion my parents and I were at for keeping the peace made us all die a little inside when it was recommended to bring the full extended families.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI know this is a little rough but tell me what you think, I am always looking for input", "\"So, Merv,\" Dad's dad, Glen started in. \"How's business?\"\n\n\n\"Oh, you know,\" Merv, Mom's dad replied with a grin. It sounded friendly, the two of them. They sounded almost like family.\n\n\nMom and Dad let them know, let everyone know that anyone who brought their other activities into the home would find out how much it hurt to be cut off from their only grandkid. And they'd done good. But this was the first time I knew who everyone really was.\n\n\nSee, I'd had suspicions since I was 5. I figured out Granny Raya and Papa Glen early on as they'd only ever worn domino masks. Pretty obvious they were Neptuna and Plutan. \n\n\nMerv was later due to the voice changer and full helmet, but I realized he used the same cane in his civilian life. I considered it could be a coincidence, but as I knew his wife had been the Marquesa, him being Dark Duke wasn't a stretch. I'm just sorry I never met Grandma Gena. She would have had some great advice for my plans. \n\n\nThen you have my uncles and aunt. Mom's brother, Mike, was openly the head of Pax Terra, so I almost thought he'd be on the other side. Then realized all the companies claims were just marketing and PR stunts to hide the villainy. And when some of their tech was used in Boulder Bright's attacks, well, I checked and they never reported a theft, so I knew the truth.\n\n\nDad's siblings, the twins Jon and Jan, were another set of easy ones. Even though they transformed into elemental beings, they weren't the best at avoiding security cameras when they changed back. And with my powers, there weren't any cameras I could access. I could've shown the world who the Etherians really were. \n\n\nAnd now that I could identify everyone, I'd decided to have some fun.\n\n\n\"I don't know,\" I said to Merv as I came in. \"I don't even really know what you do, Grandpa.\"\n\n\n\"Cost analysis,\" he says without missing a beat. \"Investment evaluation. It's my work that helps Mike's company decide whether or not to buy some small business, or just make their own version of their inventions.\"\n\n\n\"So how's that work? You guys buy whole businesses?\"\n\n\n\"Sometimes,\" Mike says. \"Sometimes, we'll just pay for a patent or we'll get the item directly from the other company. It's Dad's job to figure out the best way to go.\" \n\n\n\"Oh, okay. So business is...good?\" This was not what I wanted.\n\n\n\"Yeah. Have a weird guy who keeps bugging me at work, but overall, it's good.\"\n\n\nGlen nearly did a spit take at Merv's comment. Mike subtly kicked Merv. Alright, here we go.\n\n\n\"What's that, Sis? You calling for Benny?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah,\" Mom replied to Mike. \"Can you help me in the kitchen, Sweety?\"\n\n\nI knew she hadn't called me, but it was clear none of them were talking anymore with me in the room.\n\n\nDinner was calmer. My prying earlier had made them all wary, and I was worried Dad might have a \"talk\" for me after everyone left. I'd given up hope of breaking the secret. \n\n\nThen I saw it. I didn't have to uncover that secret, because a bigger one was happening, just down the table, where Jan and Mike were sitting. Judging by the way they kept touching, subtle but definite, and how she was rolling her eyes and smiling every time he made a comment about the \"office\" as opposed to the glare I'd have expected, this had been going on a little while. Jon was going to kill him.\n\n\nThey'd both found excuses to go to the front porch earlier in the night, so I was sure I could count on it happening again. I claimed I needed to use the restroom, then changed the angle on my camera out there. This was something to be thankful for. \n" ]	4
	[WP] The reticle of the solar rifle is hovering over your nemesis. One shot and you erase them to dust. You want to pull the trigger but you can't just forget how much you love them... And how much they loved you.	[ "I hated him. I wanted him to finally get out of my life, needed him to finally get out of my life. The fucker wouldn’t just give it up. We were floating among the debris of my latest supply run, utterly obliterated thanks to him. The badge on his armor flashed as we spun, reflecting the sun into my eyes. Captain. It must have taken him every waking moment of the last four years to make it that far up in the chain of command. Then again, they were so corrupt that it probably didn’t. \n\n“What are you waiting for?” His voice broke my thoughts. \n\n“I just want you to die already.” I snarled.\n\n“Kill me then. You have the leverage here.” He stated in his matter-of-fact way, grabbing the muzzle of the solar rifle and putting it to his forehead.\n\n“Why are you so ready to die? Why aren’t you fighting me?” I yelled at him.\n\n“Miss Ono...or is it General Ono now? I have never forgotten you. I watched our little rebel group as it grew from nothing more than you and me to all of this. And I looked back more times than I’d care to say. But I’ve never regretted my decision. So, if you are to kill me here, I will die without remorse.”\n\n“I fucking hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” I punched him, which threw him into the nearest bit of hull debris. “Why can’t you just hate me? That would make this so much easier!” \n\n“Hannah. If you’re going to kill me, do it. If not, then I’m going to kill you, like I slaughtered the rest of the rebels on that supply ship.” His tone was suddenly harder. Beyond that, it took me a moment to process what he’d said. \n\n“What did the Iriel do to you?” I stared into his eyes now, for the first time since realizing who was firing on our ship. They were the same shade of blue that they used to be, but they used to look like tropical oceans from Earth. Now they looked like the glacial ice sheets on Alban.\n\n“I’m giving you another 10 snaps. After that, I’m calling my ship.” \n\nWhat could I do? \n\n“9.” He said.\n\nI couldn’t kill him. Not after everything we’d been through. Everything we’d done.\n\n“7.”\n\nBut he betrayed us. Betrayed me. Sold out to the Iriel Empire.\n\n“5.”\n\nBut there must still be good in him. If I can win him back over...\n\n“3.”\n\nI was running out of time. And I couldn’t die. The resistance needed me.\n\n“1. I’m sorry Hannah.”\n\n“No, Danny.” I said, leveling the solar rifle at his head again. “I’m sorry.”\nThen there was a brilliant flash of light, and he was gone." ]	1
	[WP] Reincarnation is real, and happens immediately.	[ "\"So long, ass-wipes!\" \n\nJake had always talked about killing himself. He had been born a pasty-skinned nerd who only ended up growing to five-foot-six. HE wanted to try his luck again, he had often talked about it and on July 3rd, he did it. JAKE was obsessed with populraity because he had none so he made his suicide memorable for his instagram story by sitting atop a pile of fireworks and gunpowder he had spent two years collecting and igniting it. Worked like a charm. The camera didn't pick it up so well because it was destroyed, JAKE never did bother with details like measuringthings out or researching the explosive capabilities of gunpowder. Still, memorable even if not on social media. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe scoured hospitals afterwards to try adn see if JAKE was gonna pop up, we brought along several of his favourite things, hoping that the new him would be attracted to these items: a figurine of an anime girl with a large chest area, a picture of an anime girl with a large chest area, a pillowcase with an anime girl with a large chest area (you get the idea). Lowand behold, baby after baby kept gurgling and reaching out for these images of breasts, we realized our search would be in vain and we needed to wait for the abbies to grow up and start talking, with one of them hopefully remembering being JAKE. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt happened 4 years later, one of the parents in our neighborhood had a child that had begun to gravitate towards mouthing off to authority figures and perusing pornography. We found him the day after we had heard and asked:\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"JAKE, is that you?\" \n\n\"Who wants to know?\" \n\n\"Do you remember us?\" \n\n\"You never forget a face that ugly.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt was JAKE. We had question after question about what it was like dying, what it felt like being reborn. HE simply put his hand and and gave a single answer to our hundred and one questions. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Worth.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You discover your favorite book has terrifying eldritch knowledge and powerful arcane lore hidden within its contents. You study and decipher the secrets obsessively, despite the danger and the toll it takes on your sanity.	[ "The Big Book of Boobs opened up on it's own. I of course had not noticed as I was in my own room showering. The pages turned as if by an invisible hand to the page titled \"how to grow breasts at home\". \n\nAfter the shower, I entered the living room, threw open the curtains and I began lotioning myself all over when the book caught my eye. I decided to stop giving the neighbors a show and drew the curtains shut nce more so that I could read the book more closely. I was interesting in growing boobs, after all. \n\nThe book warned that this was secret, dangerous knowledge of dark magics and that the reader should beware anyone findin out about their breat farming ways. Therefore I resolved to conduct my boob wizardry in the basement. \n\nA full two months passed after I followed the book and had planted dead skin from the breasts I wanted to grow (I had opted for harvesting the inside of my girlfriend Stacey's bra). I was rewarded for my efforts by an exact replica of Stacey's fun bags growing out of the soil itself like ripe melons, which they were. \n\nI realized the power I had unleashed upon the world, making strippers obsolete, and I could already hear the howls of every boob man on earth kicking down my door, demanding I replicate the process for their chosen pair. I stopped leaving the house for want of time with the soil-boobs, I stopped speaking to my friends and family out of fear of my secret being found out. 'No', I thought, 'this is the path I have chosen, or more accurately, that chose me'. Yes, the boob fairies had chosen well their mortal servant for I was an acolyte, a true-believer in the power of women's chesticles. I knew I would never leave my house again." ]	1
	[WP] You were the dark lord but were defeated by the heroes. What they didn't know is that you discovered the secret to immortality, reincarnation. With all your memories intact you now plan to reconquer the world. Until then you have to deal with your new loving parents, the heroes who beat you.	[ "To think, I had been defeated by two overbearing fools, and to top it all off, when I got back to the world of the living, they were my new parents! Not to mention my newfound knowledge about them being incredibly soft when not expecting a battle, it saddens me to know I let such unworthy opponents defeat me. \n \nIt's been three years now in this new body, learning to walk again and beginning to regain my ability to speak. This body is incredibly weak right now, but I can't do anything about that for at least another decade. Looks like the fool Alexander has come to check if I'm alright, since I apparently have developed a 'habit of wandering off.'\n \n\"Michelle, are you in- Oh good, you are!\" Alexander lifts me up, which I respond with the only thing a can in this form, whining. It disgusts me how low I have fallen from my height, I was going to conquor the world and now I am just a little girl, the daughter of the very people who made sure of my demise.\n \n\"You sure do like wandering off, don't you? Looks like you're mommy and I need to get you a bigger play pen.\" He says, carrying me back to the room I have been provided. In the room I have what you'd expect for an infant, a crib, a pink and purple play pen, stuffed animals, and some silly children's stories. I am ashamed to admit, I have gotten used to finding what amusement I can from this setting.\n \n\"Down please.\" I say, still stumbling over my words like a fool.\n \n\"Alright, do you want your teddy in your play pen with you?\" Alexander asks. I open my mouth to say no, but decide to just nod. I'm going to need to play this role for a long time, as such, I ought to get used to being a little girl. Even if I dislike this, it benefits me in the long run. Speaking of which, my 'mother' Jessica has come to see me as well, time to get more situated in this role.\n \n\"Mommy!\" I raise my arms toward her, which gets the wench to laugh. Good.\n \n\"You're in a good mood today Michelle, did you find something you like when you were exploring?\" Jessica asks me, to which I just nod and smile. Playing these fools is not going to be a challenge in the slightest for now.\n \n\"She nearly got to the front door.\" Alexander tells her.\n \n\"Michelle is just curious, we should take her out for walks more often.\" Jessica replies, smiling at him.\n \n\"Maybe, but you know we have jobs. We can't always take her out for a walk or to the park.\" \n \n\"That may be so, but we could always save up a little money, maybe we can get enough to get a month off.\" Jessica is as optimistic as always, which I am used to by now. Perhaps her idea is a good one though, the more I can get out of this house, the more I can get to improving this weak body's strength. \n \nAlthough, for now that will have to wait. Despite it only being a little past noon I am getting very tired, failing to keep back a yawn. Following that, I get some pointless cooing about being sleepy and I get dressed in silly pink pajamas and annoying training pants. Once that is all done, the two of them put me in my crib and tuck me in. Ironically, by being so weak, these two will do whatever I want them to so long as it helps my health. Now, I go to sleep.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPlease let me know how I did, this is my first time doing a prompt so I wanted it to be good! Any suggestions or tips are appreciated and will be noted.\n\nEdit: How do I make it not have the side scrolling thing?\nEdit2: Formatting", " \n\nThese incestuous fools! How could these incompetent heroes have defeated me so many years ago? Now, I hold all the power in my hands!\n\n“Damien, get back here with my keys! Don’t you throw them in the toilet!” The older male chases after me as I duck around corners and evade his grasp. How pathetic, his attempts! This day is mine! I laugh manically, sudden squeaks and gleeful noises are produced from my gape. I make for the bathroom, jingling the oaf’s only means of normal transportation as a taunting anthem. \n\n“DAMIEN, NO!” His hand plunges deep into the bowels of the bowl, elbow deep in porcelain and defeat. I cross my arms, defiantly and victoriously. \n\n“Daddy, you get keys now!” I smile a wicked smile. When they told my parents that 2 was bad, but 3-year olds were the worst, it was a given ticket to mayhem. I have relished every second of their misery. Defeat me in the Battle over Washington, will you? Your super powers are useless to use on kin! This rebirth was not my end, but yours!\n\n“Karen! Can you get me a hanger please? Damien threw my keys in the toilet, again!” I could hear the splashing as I turned and strutted away to my crayons and plans. I’ve kept cryptic my plan to foil them, in sweet little drawings they post all around the house. First, I shall age and cause them unimaginable stress, withering their souls and ability to function. Next, I will leave enough food from my plate that the male idiot will eat “because he’s stressed”, and so “they don’t waste food”. Then, being so fat, he will be powerless to combat me as I age! \n\nNow…for the female. I’ve taken my toll on her body already, sucking her lifeless as often as I could. Then, I’d spit it out! It was genius! The desperation and frustration on her face was worth the dark imprisonment in her womb. Then to top if off, as soon as she would rest, I would soil myself, with a gut-wrenching scream that would make them wish my war cries in the battle were the last thing they had heard.\n\nMy “parents” do all they can to scold and control my temperament, and I allow them to think they are succeeding. I give them momentary respite, and as soon as they are comfortable in their newest trend of parenting, I rip all their hopes to shred with a new way to disobey!\n\nBy the time I rise to power in my teens, they will be too tired and worn out even stand up to my rallies for power. Now, where is my juice box? I require sustenance, and another means to get something else important sticky.", "It’ll be a lovely tale.\n\n‘Born from the fires of hell, were you? Ha. Pathetic. I was raised by my worst enemies, enduring many long, hard years of torture, before finally revealing myself and killing them! Take that, Turen!’\n\nBut it’s a long way away, the thought of that freedom. \n\nI’d do it on my anniversary. The ‘end’ of my reign of terror. How naïve of humanity to think that they’ve seen the best of me. \n\nI like to think that, for a 7 year old, I know an awful lot. I speak fluent French and Latin, and I’m currently working on my Japanese so that I can fit in with kids these days. Don’t want to blow my cover. Luckily, my idiot parents think it’s just that I’m a special kid. That I’m clever. They probably think that, because I’m their spawn, I’m going to grow up an amazing hero.\n\nI was the hero! They think that they can fix the world by separating everyone! When I was in control, I was going to start changing the world. I was going to unite us all. Protect us all. It was going to be safe. Instead of different countries, we have different planets.\n\nBut now? The lesser leaders are back in control thanks to the ‘heroes’.\n\nI’ll show them.\n\nFirstly, though, I have homework.", "It was a great day. The sky was clear - not a cloud on the bright blue canvas, the townsquare was full of people, preparing for the trip to the Capital.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Mum, I'm fine. Honestly, I promise you, I won't hurt anyone in the Academy... too bad.\" I sighed, as Sheryl kissed my forehead for the tenth time it seemed. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I must say, you grew up so fast,\" she shed a tear. I sighed and rolled my eyes, like any teenager would. \"But where the hell is your dad?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Probably slaying someone, like he does, duh. He's always late. For everything.\" He was even late for the last fight with me. And still won. That damned man is a curse in all lives, what a waste of a perfectly good scoundrel.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Don't be like that, my dear. Your father has had a lot of work after he started the Agency, but he would never be late for such a big day. Our beloved son is... is leaving... for the Academy\" the woman in front of me, the one who had slain me long twenty years ago, had dissolved into a crying mess of a mother. How disturbing. A moment more and she'll attract more attention than I'd care more. I should probably just... yeah, like that.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Come on, mum. I'll write back and I'll use magic to communicate as soon as we're given permission to. I'll even send you a couple of carrier spirits with emotions tied to them.\" I hugged her, Sheryl's face on my shoulder as she embraced me in a motherly grasp. What a sorry excuse for a hero. She could be so much more than a housewife and a local witch - she could run the bloody Academy for all I know. I've grown to respect her as a magician in years spent under her roof. She even taught me - Me! - some new tricks. No surprise she was able to defeat my generals. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI looked up at the townsquare tower. The clock showed five 'till five. In mere five minutes the portals would open and the townspeople who are headed towards the Capital - a city I've built, by the way! - will disappear in glowing rings of magical transportation. And Jack still wasn't here.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe stood like that for a couple more moments. I felt the tension grow and the awkwardness arise. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Mum, you think he won't show?\" I asked more to make her take a step back and release me from her arms. I wasn't actually interested. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"He will. He is your father after all, Alex. He is just a little... well, him.\" She smiled awkwardly and shrugged. Jack wasn't hmself since I told him what my major was going to be. A son of heroes of ages. A magically gifted child of light. A necromancer. We haven't spoken for a week or two as of now. I think I've hurt him with this. While Sheryl was understanding and accepting - she even called the Professors and made sure I was to be treated as any dark mage would, not be signed into light parties - as if I needed any help. Jack... let's say Jack wasn't excited. A thought of his son becoming a dark mage definitely hurt his heart. When I came to the place where he taught me how to shoot a bow - a place he used to bring me quite a lot when I was much younger - this life younger I mean - to try to find him, he wasn't there. I've gone to several other places that were in our memories. Obviously, to make sure he was hurting. But he wasn't there. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe townsquare clock showed two minutes till five.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Alex, please, don't worry. I'll talk to your father. And besides, he probably got attacked by something on his way. You know him.\" She looked worried. As if I cared. \"Hey, sweety. Don't look so sad. He'll come around, especially when you'll show him how well you do in the academy.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSheryll pushed on to touch my face - probably to 'turn that frown upside down'. I decided against moving back - or else it'd, once again, attract too much attention. She just put a hand on my cheek and brushed her thumb across my face, under my left eye. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nOne and a half minutes till five. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Alex! Sheryl!\" Jack's voice - tired and rusty - came to us from the other side of the square. He was rushing towards us with something in his hands. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"See? I told you, there's no need to be sad. He'd never miss a day our son was going to the Academy!\" Sheryl smiled and hugged me again. I sighed. I'd rather not see him right now. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Alex!\" Jack approached, breathing heavily, as he speeded through the square, dodging the people around. He took a deep breath and repeated, in a calmer tone. \"Alex.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Dad.\" I wanted to say 'Jack', but somehow 'Dad' felt more natural.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe smiled and handed me something, covered with leather. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I'm sorry, son. This past couple of weeks I wasn't the greatest father. Hell, I wasn't even a decent one.\" I opened my mouth to insult him, but he raised his hand and said. \"Please, let me finish. We don't have much time and I'd like to finish this speech, after all, I've rehearsed it. Alex. I wasn't a good father lately, but I understand how hard it must have been on you to tell us that you wanted to study necromancy. And instead of thinking about that I thought about how hard it was for me to hear it. So I snapped. I'm infinitely sorry for raising my voice at you, son, and for disappearing for a bit, but I've realised my mistakes. I went into the dark forest and found something\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe pointed at the item, hidden with leather.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Please, open it. It is a base of the staff. It is made out of darkwood and it will take a long time to make into actual staff. But I believe that if anyone in this world can wield it for good - it's you, my son,\" he turned to Sheryl and put a hand over her shoulders, smiled. \"Our son.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs I unwrapped the piece of wood, I felt the first bit of rain strike me on the cheek. In my hands laid a perfect branch of darkwood. The very same wood I once made my own staff out. The very same wood that brought my rule over those lands. Powerful magic could be wielded with this staff. Could and now would.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI looked at them, words stuck in my throat. They looked at me smiling, Sheryl was crying. I wiped the rain off my cheek and the only thing I managed to say was:\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Mum, dad. Thank you. I love you.\" The last part was a habit of playing a role. Definitely. Totally. Surely.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe townsquare tower struck five times and the portals opened - one after another.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Be fair, Alex. Always try to be good, but never fail to be kind,\" my mother said, smiling through tears.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Bring us tales of your magnificent achievements, my son!\" said father. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI could only nod, as the ring of portal consumed me and transported my form to the Capital, words stuck in my throat.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMaybe I should revisit my dark plans. Maybe. " ]	4
	[WP] You suspect that a regular patron at your bar is actually an incognito mythological figure just trying to have some downtime. You begin indirectly prodding them for information, doing your best to not give away your intent.	[ "I have a hunch. This guy talks like he’s above everyone else. He’s got these crazy arrow tattoos on his forearms, he always has something pink on, and to top it off, he’s just too damn handsome to be mortal. \n\nLast night, he sat down at the bar like he normally does. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, but he had his trademark neon pink shirt on underneath. “Barkeep! I’ll have a Shirley Temple.” He said. Usually an odd request, but not from him. I made his drink and slid it across to him. He pulled a flask out of his blazer pocket, and poured some of its contents into his drink. “So,” I said, having finally worked up the courage to talk to him. “What do you do during the day?” \n\nHe gave me a weird look before answering. “I work for my mom. Family business. We’re not from this country.”\n\n“That’s cool!” I responded. “Where are you from?”\n\n“Greece. I was born up there, but my mom has always been a drifter. I guess that’s how we ended up here.”\n\n“Huh. What’s your mom like?”\n\n“She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. But... well you didn’t hear it from me, but she has a temper, and she’s as stubborn as Hades.”\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“Oh, nothing.” It was at this point that I realized we were the only people left in the bar. I checked my watch. 3 am? I was supposed to close up 2 hours ago!\n\n“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, but I have to ask you to leave.” I said, hurrying to grab dirty glasses and plates from tables. \n\n“I don’t have to go if you don’t want me to.” He said. There was something slightly different about his voice now. Maybe... lighter? I’d just finished a stack of plates when his strong arms wrapped around me. “Come on. We can go to my place.” His voice was definitely changed. And maybe I was just tired, but it looked like he was glowing. I turned around in his arms and looked him in the eyes. They shone a brilliant golden color. I found myself unable to look away. \n\n“Yeah. Sure, your place.” I said. “I’m Jonah. What’s your name?”\n\n“Me? I’m Eros.” He said. Then a blast of wind swept us out the front door. " ]	1
	[WP] Reincarnation is real- Backwards. Every time you die, you're revived to live the life of one of your previous relatives, until you die again and go back another generation. Unlike everyone else, though, you remember all your past lives.	[ " \n\nLiving in current year 2018, remembering every life I’ve been living is hard. I’ve struggled many years to find out my real identity, this time it has been harder. Last time lived I was a successful surgeon, thanks to my grandpa who was also a surgeon and luckily I got to live his life, although I realized it in my late 30’s. Remembering every life you lived is not that joyful as everyone could think, you don’t hold the meaning of life and you don’t know everything either. Actually I’ve grown to learn that you can live as many lives as you want, but every single one will be different from the others.\n\nUsually I recover my past lives in my mid 20’s when I’m trying to settle down and actually start living on my own. I had a hard time recovering this life tho , I could not focus on what my instincts were, as I felt like I was living in the wrong era. And I am. Something changed the course of life, I should not be living the life of such an ancient ancestor as a visir. I should be retracing my great-grandfather steps. That is why I spent the last year trying to figure out why I was so drawn to religion and architecture in particular. I’m now travelling the world, searching for someone who, like me, reached such ancient times. This is a situation where remembering past lives it’s actually useful. I know I’ve been living in Egypt and I had friends there. I can try to get in touch with some of their descendants and move there for a bit to see if I can stop feeling trapped like in every other part of the world I’ve been to. \n\nThe best part of my life is that I am able to remember history, I’ve met the greatest characters such as Alexander the Great, Karl Marx, Voltaire, Socrates, Abraham Lincoln and so on. I can’t exactly remember every detail of my past lives, but I know who I’ve been. I know my ancestors were part of the Medici family from Florence, Italy. Before them I was know to be the counselor of Julius Caesar the roman dictator. Besides this last shady event in which I’ve been transplanted into the great ancient world, I lived history step by step. It hasn’t been simple, as I need to adapt to every single new life that’s given to me, but it is certainly a great gift. It’s frustrating as I can’t share it with anyone, because nobody believes me when I tell them that I can remember watching John Hancock being the first to sign the Declaration of Independence in 1776 or that I know that the actual inventor of the phone is Bell and not Meucci, because I worked for him. \n\nI find satisfaction thinking that this is a handed down gift and my son will be remembering all his family history too. We may (or may not) be part of the most powerful family that’s ever existed, and nobody knows about that. " ]	1

Subsets and Splits

No community queries yet

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